> The master and the windigo
>  by stupidswampdragon
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1 - Re-name
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Would you quit that? Pretty please...?"

Silent refusal was the response to the frail words. Perhaps unsurprisingly so; damp rocks weren't really known to adhere to passing wishes. Not even to a unicorn who could have really used a break already. The rocks stayed being damp, the water droplets arriving undaunted.

Top-notch apartment, huh.

It only took a glance at the three-by-three meter room to realize: that phrase was nothing more than some gallows humour.

Too bad it actually took a little stay in there to learn how the size was only the beginning and the least bothersome aspect of the place.

The walls were made of some volcanic stone, painted black by the cataclysmic forces that brought them to the surface so very long ago. Apart from being proven to resist chipping and heat, the colour of the material must have been part of the choice. Such overdose of black elevated the already tiny room into something awfully oppressive. No matter how viciously the small lantern fought, its flickering light was swallowed by the black surfaces, leaving the guests with a feeling of perpetual darkness.

Whoever came up with that idea was a bloody genius, there was no doubt of that.

Her eyelids parting ever so slightly, the cyan unicorn surveyed her temporary shelter again. A droplet landed square in the middle of her nose, drawing her attention to the ceiling first and foremost. The lantern was suspended in the middle, the magic-operated light sitting in a bowl that was hanging from four iron chains. The small flame illuminated what little it could, the yellowish light glittering from edges of the roughly cut stones. That sight would have been captivating in any other place; but then and there, it only reminded the pony of how damp the whole place was.

The small room had no windows or any other openings to the outside, except for a cast iron door. That one was also locked for the better portion of the day. Only when the guards came would it open, and even then only for a few minutes at most. Such lack of ventilation made for rather poor air quality, which led to other annoyances in turn. The walls becoming damp wasn't the only result; the hay spread across the floor reacted to the moist air as well.

Given the horrid smell the brownish strands gave off, the pony was pretty sure her makeshift bed was actively rotting away. That was still better than sleeping on the roughly cut stones, though. Especially since those would have been wet as well, just like the ceiling or the walls. Wet enough to make her coat cling in a pretty annoying fashion.

Then another droplet landed on her face, only missing her left eye by a hair's breadth.

"Ohhhh, THAT'S IT!" she fumed, stomping on the suspicious-looking hay with a hoof. "I've had it with this place!"

"If I may enquire, what does Master plan to do about it? Prisons are built to keep prisoners inside, if memory serves me right."

The unicorn turned to her accomplice, an angry snort being her most immediate reaction. She stared for a moment, then turned away in disgust. Unlike her voice which became raspy, the accomplice sounded as fresh and soft as ever. Unlike her dirty and clingy cyan fur, the accomplice looked immaculate, the blue coat only painted sickly grey by the virtue of being slightly translucent. And, unlike her tired amber eyes, the accomplice's crimson pupils looked like two pieces of coal freshly picked from the fire.

They were like two ponies from the very opposing ends of the scale.

A weary prisoner and an impeccable servant. A worn idiot and an awe-inspiring presence. A breathing, living pony... and the always-hungering remnant of one such.

The master and her windigo.

"Ain't you the sharpest cookie in the jar," the unicorn groaned, settling back onto the hay. "Of course I didn't mean I would just walk out of here. Duh!"

"Then Master is just fed up, correct?" the windigo made a polite nod. "Understandably so, if I may remark. This prison is pretty run-down."

"A prison doubling as a hotel would defeat the purpose though," the unicorn sighed. She then made the mistake of breathing through her nose; the rancid smell of the hay beneath her head immediately twisted her face into a grimace. "Ugh! I only wish I knew what I'm in for. Snowy, you still...?"

"I'm terribly sorry, but I seem to draw blanks only," Snowy the windigo lowered her head with an awkward smile, her ears plopping down to complete the image of defeat.

"You'd think at least one of us would know how we wound up in here," the unicorn growled. She rose to her hooves and knocked the small pile of rotting hay away. The move wasn't particularly thought-out, only meant to vent her frustration; the smelly strands flew in every possible direction, giving the whole room an even more oppressive smell. "I could understand if it was only me... I mean, I could've hit my head on the way in, right? That'd also explain why I don't recall anything about myself either, right? I only know you, Snowy. So just why do I know you, huh? Heck, why is a windigo of all things following me around?"

"If it is of any comfort: I also found that rather curious," Snowy conceded. "But... but I don't think I know anything about you, either. Other than you being my Master, of course."

"As usual, eh?" the unicorn scoffed, then blew a loose strand of hay from her muzzle with a huff. "You were always completely amnesiac. I'm surprised you remember how to speak!"

"I am terribly sorry," Snowy bowed, lowering her head until her jaw sunk into the hay covering the floor. "Should I remember anything, I will immediately let Master know."

The unicorn stared at the small display in silence and with a dumbfounded face. Then she collapsed back onto the floor herself, holding a hoof to her head.

"Alrighty... stop taking it that hard. That's an order," she mumbled. "And stop calling me master."

"What else should I call you, then?" Snowy raised her eyebrows.

"Well, you could... em... err.. errrr..." the unicorn pondered. She went through all the stages of struggling for memories: the odd squinting, the straining muscles on the face, the hoof angrily rubbing the mane. None of those helped; she came up empty. An expected result, but a depressing one all the same. Stuck in a barely-lit cell with only enough room to stretch her legs, she had nothing else to do but try recovering bits of herself.

Always with such abysmal results.

"I have no idea how you should call me," she finally admitted, burrowing her face into her hooves. That made her feel truly wretched. No matter how ugly her cell was, it just couldn't compare.

"Then please bear with Master for a while," Snowy made an apologetic grin, her translucent blue figure rising back to an upright stance. "So what do we do now?"

"Wait, I suppose?" the unicorn chuckled dryly. "What else could we do here?"

"Wait for... what, exactly?" Snowy cocked her head to the side. 

The answer came on its own. Something on the other side of the thick iron door began making a racket, clanging and banging. Some louder words, even.

"For something like this," the unicorn winked at the windigo, then hopped back up with a groan. "These folks should know why they keep us locked up in here!"

The door moved with the finesse expected of a thick piece of iron: which was exactly none. A loud screech filled the air as it moved, the heavy object sliding on the bare stone, its joints rusted and protesting against the action instead of providing any help whatsoever. The unicorn grit her teeth, her ears ailing at the noise. Then she yanked her head away, going as far as putting a hoof in front of her eyes. 

Light flooded the room as the doorway became free. No matter how much she disliked the dim darkness, that kind of brightness hit her in the face like a much more solid sledgehammer.

"Prisoner 45-100!" somepony barked from the outside. "Come out, slowly! No hasty movements!"

"Right, right... I'm coming," the unicorn sighed. Eyes barely cracked open, she moved into the doorway and made a careful step outside. Three ponies waited her there, all wearing brightly coloured armour.

All of them members of the Royal Guard, no doubt.

Normally their presence induced calm and a sense of security in ponies. Sadly that feature didn't seem to work when they were the ones jailing the pony in question. Still, the unicorn felt a little happy at the new-found company. By all logical expectations, they should have known something she was desperately longing for.

"I'm not a number, by the way," she sneered at a trooper, phrasing her question in a decidedly roundabout way. "You could at least call me by my name."

The pegasus with gold armour blinked at her and took a hasty step backwards. Confused, the cyan unicorn turned to his colleagues; but the other two soldiers were also in a bad shape. They were exchanging hurried glances, each visibly waiting for the other two to say something. One yanked a piece of paper from his armour, then threw it to the floor and began to study it with great haste.

All in all, that display was precisely the worst thing the amnesiac pony could imagine. Or so she thought.

"Uhhh..." groaned the Guard with the paper, his armoured hoof scratching his gold helmet. "Sooooo. You colts have ANY idea how this pony is got here?"

Closing her eyes and drawing a deep breath before she could faint or go berserk, the unicorn had to admit: that was the rock bottom.





"Let us get clear on this," Princess Luna rubbed her forehead. She managed to come up with a fairly remarkable expression before that, appearing absolutely annoyed and perplexed at the same time. "This pony snuck into our prison, freed a prisoner... and then took her place?"

"S- something like that, your Highness," a trooper nodded, his forcibly calm tone mixed with a burst of nervous giggle. "That was the only conclusion we could reach. Records indicate that Lyra Heartstrings should have been in there... but we only found this mare in her place."

Lyra Heartstrings, the words echoed inside the unicorn's head. She stood in the ring of the three Royal Guards, facing the Princess of Night from a good eight steps' distance. A prisoner without a name - or a sentence, as it increasingly seemed.

"Lyra Heartstrings. Heart... strings," Luna repeated the name slowly, savouring it, trying to link it to some figure. Then she gave up, the exact moment marked by her head turning to the unimportant-looking grey pony behind her.

The grey mare behind the princess quickly snapped to attention. She didn't overstrain herself, though; she remained unmoved, adjusting her reading glasses with a blank expression on her face. Most interestingly, such lack of distinct features made her very recognizable: few were as boring as her. Even the nameless prisoner could recognize Paradox, though she could not recall just when and where they got to knew each other.

I swear, this friggen' amnesia...

"I can affirm I have no knowledge of this pony," Paradox spoke. Her speech was just like her whole being: slow, uninteresting and without a shred of emotion.

"You don't remember me either, right?" Snowy paced forward, eyeing the grey mare. Luna frowned at the approaching windigo; partly because she disliked the astral thing coming closer to her... and mostly because the presence of Royal Guards forced her to sit still and do nothing about it.

Paradox and Snowy were both just ghosts, after all. To anypony aside from themselves and their bound hosts, they were completely undetectable.

"Look, Snowy... or whatever you call yourself nowadays. We both know there is no helping you. I can't undo your mistakes. In fact: no-one can," Paradox chastised the other ghost. With no fire or passion in her words however, the whole tirade sounded more like a recap. "I see you got a new host, however."

"Master isn't new," Snowy muttered, sneaking a quick glance at the unicorn behind.

Did you just call me old?! the prisoner snorted and fumed silently, her teeth digging into her lips. Wait a second! You said that you don't know ANYTHING about me! You two-timing ice-cold bastard, how dare you call me an old hag then?!

"Interesting that you would say that. At the same time: I know I don't recall that pony from before," Paradox shrugged and turned to the Princess.

Luna hummed at the statement, holding a hoof to her chin as she dived back into her thoughts.

"Uh... Princess?" one of the Guards barged into the conversation he couldn't see taking place. "What do we do with this pony?"

"She sneaked into the place of Lyra Heartstrings," Luna sighed, moving the hoof from her chin to the side of her head. She seemed to be having a long day as well. Holding tribunal at day was pretty exhausting when one had to work through the whole night as well. "Such a bothersome case again. What was this Lyra accused of?"

"Causing dissent, murdering Ponyville's librarian, conspiring against Princess Celestia..." the Guard read aloud from the paper he placed onto the floor. "Oh! And being late on tax forms."

"We didn't murder anypony," Snowy mumbled at the accusations. "I never filled out any tax forms, though."

"Those are only for corporeal inhabitants within the legally defined boundaries of Equestria," Paradox sighed, a tinge of weariness lurking in her voice for a brief moment.

"Was she convicted on any of those charges?" Luna inquired, successfully ignoring the ghosts' conversation.

"No, your Highness. Her case was still ongoing," the Guard shook his head as he moved down the paper. "Actually, you were the one presiding over the caseeEEK!"

The rather un-soldierly yelp was elicited by how the Guard was yanked into the air, the paper he was standing on zipping to Luna at the same time. The magic of the Princess held the parchment in the air a few inches from her face, her teal eyes working through the barrage of text as if she was on a speed-reading contest.

"We do not recall anything such!" she finally exclaimed, slamming the paper to the floor and giving the unicorn a stern glare. "Just who ARE you, commoner?! What is this forgery?!"

"I- I have no idea!" the unicorn stammered. The furious gaze of the princess may have been technically harmless, but it was enough to make her legs quiver.

"Is this some misguided joke? Are you making fun of our justice system?!" Luna growled and turned back to her incorporeal accountant. Paradox gave her a silent nod in return, and focused her grey eyes on the prisoner.

While the stare of the Princess was bad, that of the ghost elevated uneasiness to whole new dimensions. The unicorn shuddered under the weight of the grey pupils. She could feel her head ache and stomach turn a little. She held out as long as she could, but her legs finally buckled and she fell to the floor. The Guards around her didn't really comprehend what happened to her; assuming she just felt sick, two of them rushed over to her and helped her back up.

"In my professional opinion: she's clean," Paradox announced without the slightest ounce of care. "I found nothing in there relating to any of those charges. Though given that she parades around with this wretched windigo... I reckon she may have been rightly accused. Right now, however, she no longer is."

"This paper says we presided over the case... but we have no recollection of anypony by Lyra or Heartstrings," Luna pondered aloud, frowning at the piece of paper beneath her hoof. "This is either a joke, a bad prank or a conspiracy against our public image. Only one thing is clear: proving any guilt would be beyond difficult at this point. Not to mention how counterproductive it might be."

"I told you I don't know anything!" the unicorn reiterated, pushing the soldiers away from herself. "I don't even know who I am, for Celestia's sake! I was hoping you would at least tell me that much!"

"If you wish to ask favours from us, you must pick a better approach than wasting our precious sleep-time," Luna growled and tore the paper into small shreds. "Guards! Throw her out of the Palace and make sure she does not come back for... let us say a month. Use that time to learn the proper etiquette for inquiries, commoner."

"But I-!" the unicorn protested. To little avail: the soldiers around her had no need for her approval. They grabbed her and dragged her away from the Princess - who was already leaving the court-room herself, the grey Paradox in tow.





"...and stay OUT!" the Guard yelled before slamming the door shut.

The unicorn could not reply to that, for she was busy performing a landing with her face. Throw her out, sounded the order of the Princess; but in all honesty, few Royal Guards would have taken the order as literally as those three.

To the cyan pony's greatest pain.

She didn't readily give any sign of annoyance at first, taking a deep breath and clenching her hooves on her nose taking priority. Only THEN did she blow into a rant.

"OW! OW! Oowwowowow!" she yelled without any regard for anything other than her pained and dirtied face. "You JERKS! You can't treat me like this just because you have a uniform! You-!"

"Master, if I may..." Snowy interrupted her, the blue windigo lowering its head to the pony's level; to the very ground, in effect. "Is it really wise to make a scene just after being let out of prison?"

Hooves still locked around her muzzle, the unicorn turned her amber eyes to the rather annoying helper. Snowy may have been an undead monster who feasted on warmth and positive feelings, but her most annoying tendency was always pointing out facts the rest of the world wanted to ignore.

All with a style that made it very difficult to get angry at her, generating a great supply of pent-up frustration.

"I know. I know," the pony sighed. She also shut her eyes closed, just so she wouldn't have to look at the meddlesome ghost. "You're right. But don't you feel angry at how we've been treated?!"

"Well, personally? I think they are just doing their jobs," Snowy mused, the windigo turning her head back to the closed door. "Maybe they could use a little of that 'proper etiquette' we've been chastised for. But they are soldiers, right? Being nice isn't meant to be their forte. Doing what they're told is."

Behind the cover of her hooves, the unicorn grimaced. Yeah, I should have really expected that. She had no idea why she trusted that windigo so much in the first place. Expecting great amounts of sympathy out of a creature that devoured such feelings wasn't a smart thing to do.

At the same time, Snowy wasn't some mindless-heartless devourer the ancient stories made her kind out to be. She was timid and subservient, even needy at points. Cracking her eyelids open, the unicorn sneaked a hidden glance at the windigo. The blue creature stood motionless, her crimson eyes affixed to the door as if she just realized she left her luggage inside.

That look perplexed the unicorn. Perplexed to the point where she didn't feel angry or betrayed either. That look wasn't that of a predator or somepony preparing to ditch her master. Those crimson eyes only hinted at longing and... sympathy, oddly enough. Which, considering the creature in question, was shocking enough to make the unicorn lift her head and stare at the windigo in unashamed earnestness.

You can't be serious...!

"Snowy," she muttered in a hushed voice; a needless precaution, as her earlier performance already made the normal ponies keep a healthy distance from her. "Are you feeling bad for those guards?"

"Sorry if I'm confusing you, Master. It's strange, isn't it?" Snowy gave a sour giggle. "I just have this feeling that I'm not unlike them. I don't know why, but I... but I think I could do some bad things myself. For no higher reason than being told to so..."

The unicorn kept her stare focused on the translucent windigo; then she giggled, rolled onto her side and broke into a cackle.

"Ahahaha.... haa! So THAT is what got you worked up?!" she spelled out, fighting with her laughter as she spoke. "Oh-ohkay! I think we can close this discussion short! I can pinkie-promise you that I won't order you to do anything nasty! That good, Snowy?"

A few of the ponies walking nearby gave the unicorn weirded-out stares; to them, she was just an idiot, thrown out of the Palace and now laughing for no reason, conversing with thin air. A noble even decided to look for some nearby Guards, intent on clearing the insane rabble out from their refined environment.

The unicorn and her windigo paid such background events no attention, however.

"Ah- ah! Master, that's not what I meant!" Snowy jumped at the offer, hastily bowing to the ground; her standard practice of apologizing. "I know you wouldn't order me to do anything bad! You're not a bad pony. It's just, if it was a different Master..."

"All the more reasons to stick to me, right?" the unicorn winked at the windigo, then stood up with a groan. "Rrrrite'. Let's get out of here now... I think I've made quite a scene. Don't want no trouble, right?"

"Yes, Master. Of course not," Snowy also rose to her hooves, her translucent eyes scanning plaza around them. "Which way now, though?"

"Any that leads us away," the unicorn sighed and moved towards the crowd that began gathering around her. 

Seeing how the show was over and the lunatic was now approaching them, the ponies began to scatter. Most did so with style; they walked away slowly and purposefully, as if they just remembered some important matter they had to attend to. Only a select few showed signs of earnest panic, fleeing with such gusto that they threw other ponies to the ground in their retreat. They got more angry yells than a crazy mare who conversed with thin air, oddly enough.

That's Canterlot for you, the unicorn chuckled to herself as she passed the thinning line of the crowd, an empty bubble forming around her as she walked. It doesn't matter what you do here - as long as you do it looking impeccable. Style over matter at its finest!

The rush of dry humour barely left her mind when she stopped for a moment, staring at the white marble pavement with a puzzled face.

Howcome I know all that? Did I frequent this place?

"Something the matter, Master?" Snowy inquired, noting how her Master stopped in place.

Said unicorn only shook her head and resumed walking; she didn't feel the need to make herself look any crazier than she did already. She only took about three or four steps though, for a pony forced her to stop. A small foal stood in her way: a little short in height, pretty opal on the coat and very unwilling to move out of the way.

"You're not afraid of the crazy, Snips?" the unicorn giggled at the unexpected roadblock, enjoying her self-deprecating humour a little more than she should have. "I reckon you should run like the rest. Tends to be good for the health, you know."

"I have a message for you," Snips stated with abject calmness, and brought a closed envelope out of a saddlebag that looked really too big for him.

"For... me? As in, specifically for me?" the unicorn blinked, the sudden event throwing all of her thoughts out of gear. "You- you know me?!"

"I don't. Heck, I'm surprised you know my name, because I sure never saw you!" Snips shrugged, flashing a small paper. "But the Great and Powerful told me to deliver the letter to the pony on this picture, precisely here and today. And 'lo, you came! Truly almighty she is, the chosen student of Celestia!"

The unicorn ignored most of that sentence. She already got the gist of it: that foal had no idea who she was. He was, however, serving a greater force that knew everything about her. Which made that flimsy piece of paper more important than the rest of the whole world. She grabbed the envelope and broke the yellow wax seal; then she yanked the paper from the inside, greedily and without much care. It was actually a small parchment that looked ridiculously delicate; must have been one of those fancy rice papers calligraphists spoke highly of.

Fancy materials didn't get the unicorn too worked up, though. She unfolded the paper with a powerful yank and began reading. The message was concise and to the point; the words hastily scrawled onto the precious paper, the writer obviously missing the point of using such a fine material.


To our most likely unknowing ally,

If you are reading this letter, then know: we have succeeded. Twilight Sparkle is no more and the Great and Powerful took the position that was truly destined for her.
Of course, sacrifices were needed for righting fate on such scale.
You must be confused right now. That much is expected; as far as the world is concerned, you did nothing and nothing was changed either.
Only this letter proves otherwise.
Thusly, only the Great and Powerful knows what you did and what it cost you. Lucky for you, the greatest magician also knows how this damage can be undone.

Follow Snips. He was instructed to lead you to your salvation.

PS: know that the Great and Powerful never wrote such a letter. She never met you either.


No longer held by the unicorn's magic, the white paper floated to the ground. There it caught fire on its own and burnt away in seconds, the imbued magic doing its work flawlessly. The unicorn didn't notice that; she was stuck in the same posture, paralysed by the revelation.

That letter barely told her anything; an inkling, if that. It did tell her enough to know, however: she wasn't in that jail for nothing. 

Oh, sweet pastures in the sky... just what did I get into?

"The Great and Powerful Trixie also told me that you would need an escort," Snips continued, ignorant of the heavy secret he so casually carried. "Follow me, you weirdo."

The unicorn closed her eyes and took a deep gulp, steeling herself for the bothersome revelation that would undoubtedly follow. Then she nodded and began moving, following the opal foal across the plaza.





When one thinks of it, cities are remarkably like living creatures. They breath, live, fluctuate; they grow and age, changing shape in composition in the process. Just like ordinary bodies, they also have healthier parts... and bits which are falling ill for whatever reasons.

Even a healthy city will attract illnesses. Many will flock to the shining promises, may those travel over official channels or by the way of mouth. Sadly not all of them would find their dreams coming true; such is life. Some of those will give up and go back to where they came from; some will opt to stay and struggle, making do with what they have. What they have isn't always what the society around them would welcome, though.

Gather enough of those foolhardy fools and one has a good recipe for a slum.

However, just as with real illnesses, cities prefer not to take medication until necessary. Parts that do not ail need no treatment; indeed, most folks can live with an illness that causes them no issue. A quiet slum is quite like that: there are no reasons to poke it, so no-one does.

The unicorn was fully aware of all that. She had no idea how she did, but she knew. She understood and accepted those facts. At the same time, she couldn't help but feel thoroughly unsettled by tailing Snips through the dank alleys though. None of Canterlot's usual splendour was present there. No marble and no glitter; only damp wood and dirty walls. She made a face as she passed an open window, the thick oily smell offending her nose in every possible way.

"Oi, Snips!" she barked to the foal. "You sure you know where you're going?! This part of the city isn't exactly safe!"

Strange, she mused as soon as the angry comment left her mouth. How do I know anything of this city? I must have lived here, right?

"Sure I do! Trixie made sure I do," Snips cackled, taking a turn to the right. "She explained over and over and over and over! She explained until I could make this trip with my eyes closed! She's such a cool pony."

"Yeah, yeah. I already got THAT part," the unicorn sighed. She didn't know much about what infatuation Snips had with Trixie; but she was pretty sure it stopped being healthy a long, loooong while ago.

"Here we are!" Snips exclaimed all of a sudden, stopping in the middle of an alley and pointing a hoof at a building. The unicorn took the hint and glanced there as well, then broke into an honest frown.

She was looking at an inn. Which wouldn't have been much of a problem, were it not called Four Happy Cadavers.

"I'm sure it's just a botched attempt at viral marketing," she grimaced, rubbing a hoof against her forehead. "What a day..."

"Trixie told me to make sure you go in there," Snips explained, then sat down in the middle of the alley. He didn't add any further threats to the statement, but he seemed very intent on sitting there until his target went through the door indeed.

"You're not coming?" the unicorn squinted at the foal. It made little sense for him to escort her to the door and then bid farewell. She had no idea who to look for once she was inside, for example; it was still very possible for her to miss whoever she was supposed to meet.

"Nup!" Snips shook his head and began to blush. "Foals can't go in there. It's not a nice place."

"Uh-hum," the unicorn nodded darkly. She grit her teeth, gathered what little was left of her courage and paced towards the door. Even with no guards dragging her around, she had little other choice. Whoever she used to be, she gambled big time - and won, despite the appearances. It only made sense to claim the prize.

Especially since it came at such a disheartening cost.





The wooden doors creaked and swung open at the push of the cyan unicorn. The sight that greeted her was on par with her expectations: a run-down inn with morose staff. A few drunks made the picture complete, sleeping at their tables; the rest of the customers were yelling loudly while downing whatever they paid for. Old wooden furniture was everywhere, so ancient that museums would have paid through the nose to get them. Too bad not a single one got any care in the last two hundred decades; they had no hints of lacquer any more, the last holdouts of paint also flaking off.

The same went for the floor and the walls. Maybe even the ceiling, but that part of the room was more involved in proving how gravity still worked; only a large net flexed across the room kept the guests safe.

"Master, I think this place could use a little cleaning," Snowy remarked with a little whistle.

You're a Celestia-bucked windigo! Incarnate of ice and cold and nasty! Stop sounding like a freaking MAID! the unicorn growled to herself. She was in no position to give a lecture though; not with the unsavoury crowd in hearing distance. She only cleared her throat and gave the windigo an annoyed stare; then she moved further inside the room, towards the bar.

"I agree, Master! That Trixie should have organized this meeting in a better place," Snowy followed her, demonstrating how tragically bad she was at reading facial cues.

The unicorn still reacted to her inane remark. Sure, only by shuddering greatly and flapping her ears next to her neck, but she still did. All as she dexterously walked past the intervening tables, arriving at the dirty-sticky bar without getting close to any of the other guests.

"Barkeep!" she slammed a hoof on the counter. She immediately regretted having done so. The ages-old dried beverage formed an almost honey-like layer on the surface. It stuck to her hoof right away, making the horseshoe just as sticky as the counter itself was.

"?Que?" came a mumble from below the counter.

"I need a drink," the unicorn sighed, trying to wipe her hoof against the side of the counter. "I also have somepony waiting for me... hopefully."

"Drink no es gratis. Pay up or adiós," the barkeep grumbled and rose from cover. Much to the unicorn's surprise, a gryphon appeared on the other side of the counter; one with brown feathers and a several cuts on his beak.

Wouldn't like to run into you in a dark alley for sure, the pony gulped as she forced her sweetest smile onto her face.

"Let's... ehe... let's skip the drink then," she giggled nervously, yanking her hoof back onto the floor. "Isn't there somepony...?"

"Hmm. Senorita be no regular, " the gryphon mumbled in his deep tone, his eyes measuring the strange pony that started asking strange questions of him. "?Que le ésta esperando? Er... who be waiting you?"

I don't have time for this. Stop being so suspicious already, the cyan pony fumed. She proved to be a pretty decent actor though, her smile diminishing only a very little.

"You're pretty curious," she giggled again and leaned closer to the gryphon. She paid great care not to let her coat or her mane touch the sticky surface, though. "Look here, amigo. I have no business with this dump you dare call 'inn', comprende? I was told to meet somepony here. Some pony who has connections to high places... if you get what I mean. You get me, right? Gobernio, sí?"

The gryphon narrowed his eyes and snorted loudly, the idle threat visibly causing him some discomfort. Run-down places like his often operated completely in the dark, so to say; they had no papers whatsoever. Dimwits like him rarely knew which ones they would have needed anyway. It was much easier to just hide and pray for continued good luck.

So of course they would avoid confrontations with the authorities if possible. Even coming under scrutiny would be the end of their venture.

"Stop being difficult. Just do your job and let me do mine," the unicorn reinforced her point, the smile all but gone from her face. "Soy... uh... soy no problema. Comprende, amigo?"

The gryphon gave her a stern glare, his beak moving slightly as he considered whatever he had to consider. He must have been working out the risks of complying versus just throwing this stranger out. Then he huffed loudly and put his paws into the air.

"Entiendo. No hay problema," he growled, pointing a claw at the far corner of the smelly room. "Alli, en la esquina. Corner. Trapdoor."

"See, I knew you're a nice guy!" the unicorn flashed a toothy grin. "What was it... oh right. Muchas gracias!"

It seemed wiser to hurriedly scamper away than wait for the barkeep's reaction; and that was precisely what she did, wading across the room in the given direction right away. She also intended the departure to be boastful and intimidating. However, with one of her hooves sticking to the ground at every step, she seemed more akin to a misunderstood comedian.

"I didn't know Master spoke that language," Snowy appeared next to her, taking a shortcut by bouncing on the tables instead of going around them. 

The unicorn gave the windigo a longing glare, then shook her head as she went around a chair. Having spent some time with the strange apparition, she had already learned how being a ghost had many privileges; some just less readily apparent than others. She only wished she could dance on tables and not cause a commotion, for instance.

Then she also thought on what the windigo said, and chuckled dryly. 

"I had no idea myself," she admitted in a hushed tone.





The trapdoor was heavy and had no supports whatsoever. It fell just as the unicorn let go of it, slamming shut with a thundering bang and sending dust flying everywhere. The force of the impact and the sheer surprise made for a very effective duo; yelping loudly and backing off the flimsy ladder, the unicorn took the last five steps in a single bound.

She crowned the performance with a splendid landing - on her back. Her sole luck was being soft enough to not rebound off the floor.

"Oh my sweet everything..." she gasped, winded and counting the green dots dancing in her vision.

"You should be more careful, Master!" Snowy landed next to her. Her incorporeal form weighing exactly nothing, making a soft landing came easy to the windigo. "As expected from the first looks, this place is not OSHA compliant. These stairs are remarkably dangerous, for example."

"Thanks... for warning me... in time!" the unicorn grinded her teeth, rolling back to her hooves with a pained groan. You good-for-nothing ghost!

Apart from the life-threatening ladder, the cellar struck the pony as surprisingly cosy. It was somewhat bright, for starters. The air was also warm, a nice change from the mouldy and cold cellars that were the norm. It was also filled to the brim with bottles of various contents and size. Probably the drinks that didn't mind the occasional heat.

There's no food down here though, the realization struck the pony. Then they must have at least one more cellar. So this one is for keeping "special" guests, huh...

She wasn't sure if this realization bothered her. On one hoof, it proved there was more to the inn than met the eye; on the other one, it reinforced her feeling of being in the right place. It was also comforting to know that the grumpy gryphon didn't keep a cellar cosy for no reason whatsoever.

"Well, well, well."

Despite expecting an encounter, the voice took the unicorn by surprise. She spun towards the far end of the cellar, every single of her heartbeats clearly audible in her ears. A fireplace was there, providing the warmth and the light in the underground room. The actual fire was hidden from her eyes however, a large chair blocking that part of the picture.

The chair drew her attention immediately anyway; it was swivelling around slowly, revealing a pink pony sitting on the black cushion.

"Lyra Heartstrings..." the pink pony chuckled, her mouth curled into a boastful grin. "We meet again."

"I-" the unicorn stammered, the surprise introduction confusing her quite completely. "Lyra? Wait, what?"

"Oooh, this was so COOL!" the pink pony jumped a little, yanking on the chair until she rotated back towards the fireplace. "Don't move! I have to try this again!"

"Err... okay?" the unicorn gawked. Figuring she couldn't get any more confused anyway, she sat onto the dusty floor rather unceremoniously and patiently waited for the inevitable. For a second, she was worried she misunderstood something... but even the windigo on her side was left agape.

In an ironic twist of life, that image reassured her a great deal.

"Well, well, well!" the pink pony exclaimed again, turning the swivelling chair back to her visitor. "Lyra Heartstrings... we meet again!"

"That would be me, right?" the unicorn blinked. It was only at this point she began to recognize who she ran into. She knew that pony - and the weirdness stopped bothering her as soon as she recalled the name. "Anyhow, I'm surprised you got roped into helping me, Pinkie. What's with the B-movie-villain style introduction?"

"Awww. Don't say you never wanted to try it!" Pinkie winked at her visitors. "Oh wait. You have no idea of that right now, right?"

"Aye. Got that right," the unicorn sighed sourly. "I somehow lost all my memories."

"A real bummer, isn't it? Don't sweat it too much - I've heard ponies lose all kinds of things all the time!" Pinkie giggled and leaned onto the armrest of the chair. "Did you give lost and found a shot? It's not like you lost your keys or something! I don't think anypony would want your memories... or any extra memories for that matter. We already have so much that we can't keep them in our heads anyway!"

"Don't joke about my memories, all right?!" the unicorn snapped. She definitely did not come to listen to her misery being made fun of. "This is serious! I helped Trixie - and this is how I got paid in return!"

"I know you did," Pinkie replied with an utterly bored tone, and plopped her head onto her hoof. "I also happen to know what you helped her with... or how you wound up selectively amnesiac. So it's two to one! What do I win?"

"Selectively amnesiac...?" the unicorn gawked at the word.

"Hah! It's either that or I'm a princess whose speciality is granting miracles!" Pinkie chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "You see, I just bumped into an amnesiac pony who recognized me instantly - and even spoke our language! Did you know it takes fillies years to learn words and proper grammar?"

Biting onto her lip, the unicorn also chastised herself for the stupid mistake. She already noted that oddity herself; but now she made herself look like a bumbling fool who couldn't stumble onto something so obvious.

"So how did this happen to me?" she asked the most pressing question. "Who did this to me?"

"Ohhh, straight to the jelly filling? Tsk, tsk, tsk... you have no sense of drama," Pinkie sighed. "Anyhow, the pony you seek is pretty close... maybe you could ask her straight! I don't think that would get you any closer to your answers, though."

"Oh, don't you worry about that!" the unicorn cackled evilly. "I can be pretty persuasive."

"Tee-hee! You're really making me wonder how such a scene would play out!" Pinkie giggled with open anticipation. "You see - you did this to yourself. And all of us, actually. But mostly to yourself."

"Me?" the unicorn gasped. Her shock lasted less than a second though, giving way to laughter almost right away. "Gyhahahah! You say that I made myself forget about myself? Pinkie, I know you're into nonsense... but this is just too much, sorry!"

"Why am I the only one not allowed to laugh at your misery?" Pinkie pouted, slamming the armrest of her chair. "We're not going to make a good team this way!"

"Aww, come on..." the unicorn forcibly throttled herself to merely giggling. "How would I even do that? And not just me, either! What about the others? I was let out of prison specifically because I'm NOT Lyra Heartstrings!"

"...and that's precisely because nopony knows who Lyra Heartstrings is," Pinkie pointed out with an enthusiastic grin. "You were let out since nopony can recognize a pony they have never seen. All according to plan, you could say. Okay, so maybe the revision of the altered plan's second variant that got smudged by somepony's morning coffee... but you get the idea!"

That effortless, off-the-hoof explanation shook the unicorn more than anything she was expecting to hear. It was such obvious nonsense! If only it didn't start to make sense, hearing it phrased that way...

"I... I had the power to make ponies forget me?" the unicorn muttered, her ears dropping as her feeling of defeat surged.

"What? Of course not! Why would anypony need such a power? That would be as dumb as crashing every successful movie with endless sequels," Pinkie smacked herself on the face. "You had the power to make ponies forget about whatever you wanted to, silly! Well, more like your pet windigo did. And, actually, she still kinda' does. She just forgot about it. Forgetception!"

"Snowy? You...?" the unicorn squinted to her side. Snowy offered little help, however; she was listening to story with the same dumbstruck expression she wore a little while ago. That left the unicorn with a sour expression and no clues - nothing other than what Pinkie provided her with. "So I got thrown into prison... and then wiped myself of everypony's memory so I would be let out?"

"Strikes you as needlessly convoluted and recklessly dangerous, doesn't it?" Pinkie enjoyed the reaction of her audience, made evident by her a proud smile. "HA! Then it gets the seal of Pinkamena Diane Pie (TM)! Thanks a lot, by the way. I was getting worried I might be losing my touch."

"Wait a sec! Your plan? You helped me escape?" the unicorn gasped. Every new detail threatened her sanity with losing the grip on the story; but at the same time, not even Pinkie could weave up a lie that was complicated, convincing and... a little brilliant. "You talked me into wiping my mind?!"

"Oh, you were a tough sell! Took me like, ten seconds to convince you," Pinkie giggled at the memory. "Then again, Luna helped streamlining your choices a great deal, so let's give credit where it's due. It was either my version or the you-share-bunk-with-some-monster-in-Tartarus one. You weren't really receptive of the latter, by the way. Not keeping an open mind, et cetera, et cetera."

"I don't think I'd have a mind left had I got sent there," the unicorn shuddered. "Seriously? Tartarus of all places? Just what the heck did I do?"

"Twilight Sparkle rings a bell?" Pinkie sighed, shaking her head a very little.

"Sparkle. Hmm, no... I don't think so," the unicorn scratched the side of her head. Then she jolted, a recent memory popping into her mind. "Wait! Trixie's letter mentioned her! She said that I... that we got her out of the way. Sweet Celestia! Did I wind up in some political play?"

"Hahaha, talk about expecting the worst!" Pinkie laughed and shook her hooves in the air. "You can dial the nightmares back a little. You wouldn't do politics unless you were ready to destroy whatever little decency you had. You're not THAT far down yet."

"Oh... okay," the unicorn sighed with relief. "What was it, then?" 

Pinkie returned to resting her head on her hoof. From the unusual image of her being still and her blue eyes staring at the cobwebbed ceiling, it was easy to tell that the answer to that question was a lot more complicated than expected.

"Well, you kinda' got into B-movie villain mode. You know, trying to bring chaos and confusion to the whole of Equestria. Crash the whole current world order and so on," Pinkie dished out with an honest-to-Celestia smile. "And you've made... haha, you're making a good progress! C'me on, Lyra. I already told you how you erased yourself from everypony's minds. Do I really need to spell out just how Twilight could disappear without anypony missing her?"
> 2 - Remember
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pinkie's statement was most likely intended as a verbal bombshell, and Celestia knew it worked like one. She must have had high hopes herself, evident by the grin appearing on her face and the way she rubbed her hooves together.

There would have been many adjectives for that posture, but the most fitting was expectant.

"I don't recall anypony by that name!" the cyan unicorn recoiled at the revelation. The bombshell missed her, but just barely. Tiny seeds of doubt already sprouted in her mind, and she only clung to a singular fact to prove her innocence. "Even when I became amnesiac, I still recalled everypony. I still know you, for example! So who was she? Why don't I know her?"

"You know me because you weren't really wiped clean. There are leftover morsels of the cookie your mind once was, Lyra. You only forgot everything pertaining to yourself... and the power of your windigo. Everything necessary to escape the Princesses' wrath," Pinkie explained, stroking the empty air as if she was a villain petting her imaginary cat. "Twilight, on the other hoof? That was a less surgical operation - you were cracking eggs by slamming a table on them. She got a full ticket to forgottensville."

One thing the unicorn noted was how she got called Lyra on quite a few occasions, both earlier and while talking to Pinkie. She tried - tried really hard - but she felt no particular attachment to that random name. It just didn't feel like being hers.

There were more pressing matters than how she was called anyway. Like what she did.

"What the... I really did that?" she shuddered, sneaking a quick glance to the windigo on her side. "Woah. That's a ticket to Tartarus all right."

"Deservedly so," Pinkie raised her eyebrows.

"Completely gone, huh?" the unicorn grit her teeth, then made a pained grin. "Almost as good as murdering her, then. Talking of which... what happened to her afterwards? Is she still around?"

"Haha, no. She's been left in the oven long enough, wouldn't you say? Better take her out before she catches fire," Pinkie went back to grinning mischievously. "She's far away now, on a ship headed west. Twilight Sparkle is dead, long live Ardent Dawn! Quite a catchy identity I came up with, isn't it? It's all sorts of symbolic and everything."

"Totally flabbergasted," the unicorn groaned, not even bothering to feign interest. "So what's your game, then? Why help me if you know of the horrible things I did?"

"Oh, don't you worry. I have a ton of good reasons to do so," Pinkie broadened her grin into a full-fledged smile. "Even besides my contractual role of upholding the story dramatics, I mean."

"So you're a conspirator as well," the unicorn drew the most obvious conclusion.

"More like a conspirational-addict," Pinkie threw a wink. "You know how it goes! First you plan the groceries for tomorrow - and you can't get out of bed without making three overcomplicated plans before you know better!"

I sure hope I wasn't really working with you lot, the unicorn cringed as she faked a laugh. It wound up as one of her poorer acts.

"But as I said: I joined you for many really good reasons," Pinkie lifted her head from her hoof and leaned forward in the chair. "Some more prominent than others. Like how you're my salt, Lyra."

"Salt," the unicorn echoed without any idea what that was supposed to mean.

"Yes, salt! You know - sodium chloride. Good old table salt," Pinkie face-hoofed, throwing herself against the backrest of the chair. "It's the most important stuff in the world, you know? Things taste better with salt! Well, also with water, flour, yeast or sugar... but that's beside the point! Salt is one of the most pivotal elements there is! And you, Lyra, is the salt this place needs. Well, maybe not what it needs... but you're what we got. Cheers?"

For a passing moment, the unicorn tried to imagine herself sitting on a table, banging the side of a metal cylinder that had holes drilled into the top. It was a rather bizarre and surreal idea, all in all.

"I don't like salt," she finally sighed. She didn't mention aloud but she fancied being salt even less, even if just metaphorically.

"Shows what you know about what you eat!" Pinkie admonished the amnesiac pony, pointing a hoof as she dictated. "Salt gives food taste! Even with all the sugar in a pastry, a pinch of salt can still make it go POOF! Ever tried to make a soup without salt? And let's not forget toasts! Without salt they have no taste! NONE! RECOGNIZE THE SALT NOW, UNBELIEVER!"

"Actually, salt IS a vital element," Snowy broke her long silence with the most utterly pointless addition. "Most living organisms need a daily intake of salt or-"

"Don't you have ANYTHING better to do?!" the unicorn snapped at her windigo, looking ready to reverse the traditional roles of hunter and prey.

Snowy jolted at the criticism and looked ready to melt under the gaze of her master. Then she made a nod. Very enthusiastically.

"Then go do it," the unicorn sneered, her gaze following the windigo as it scampered away from her side. Snowy picked up speed as the distance from her master increased, finally disappearing behind Pinkie's chair.

"Woah. You're sure keeping her on a short leash," Pinkie whistled at the small scene.

"Eh, sorry. She's really super at times... but she can turn into a dimwit on the drop of a hat," the unicorn explained with a weary tone. "It's back to salt, isn't it?"

"I'm ready to turn Canterlot into Carthage if you force me!" Pinkie declared. She also punctuated her sentence with a loud knock on the armrest of her chair. "It'll be nothing but salt until you recognize the rightful order of the world!"

"Anything that makes you a happy pony," the unicorn groaned, no longer seeing the light at the end of the tunnel her conversation turned out to be. "Just what are you baking that you need a whole pony's worth of salt, anyway?"

"Awww, Lyra. You know me!" Pinkie giggled so innocently that she left no doubt how guilty she tried to appear. "I wouldn't do anything that goes against the established norms."

"Your mere existence breaks like a dozen of those norms," the unicorn facehoofed. She happened to use her sticky hoof; but the mistake didn't register with her just yet. "Seriously though! You knew me, I'm sure of that. You call me Lyra - okay, I can roll with that. But you also say I killed this Sparkle whoever... sort-of. Yet here I am, talking to you. Acquitted and unrepentant. How come all that doesn't bother you?"

"Never I said I need to like how salt itself tastes," Pinkie shrugged. "My muffins being delicious is good enough for me! No need to have every single ingredient taste good as well. Have you ever tasted cinnamon, for example? The way it burns, you'd think it's some acid! And the taste wouldn't get out of my mouth even after a good wash either! I had to bleach-"

"Stop talking of sweets already! My ears are going to catch diabetes," Lyra pre-empted the would-be detour of their discussion. Then she yelped loudly; she tried to move her hoof away from her face. The sticky horseshoe, however, have already made close friendship with her facial hair - to the point where they wouldn't let go of each other.

"Master, I... I don't think diabetes works that way..." came an unsure protest from beyond Pinkie's chair.

"I don't care how it works! Augh!" Lyra hissed. She tried to yank her hoof from her face with increasing vigour, only stopping when her eyes began to water. For being so pointless in terms of survival, that patch of facial hair seemed to hurt disproportionally much. "I'm much more interested in why you're luring me into a - AGH! - a trap, Pinkie! Ugh... in the name of Equestria, what's this sticky stuff made of?!"

"A bit of this and a bit of that. Sugar and egg... and lots of chemicals most likely," Pinkie mused for a moment. Then she wrinkled her eyebrows and stared at her struggling visitor in earnest. "So it's me luring you into a trap now?"

"You're the one being suspicious," Lyra growled. She settled onto the ground, placing her free hoof on her other leg, ready to tear her sticky hoof free. Takes what it takes!

"Uh-huh," Pinkie did some sort of a negative-nod, managing to convey her complete disbelief with a move associated to agreement. "You're kind of making me curious how your reached... that... conclusion... uuuh, Lyra? You sure you want to do that? That thing should wash off with some water-"

That was a sound advice; too bad Lyra wasn't particularly big on waiting at that point. She stomped hard and stumbled forward. She remained standing; with all of her legs finally free, maintaining balance was no issue to her. She hit the ground moments later anyway though, screaming bloody murder as she clenched the freshly epilated part of her face.

Pinkie didn't even bother to comment on the sight. She just reclined into her chair and cringed mightily.

"Miss Pie?" Snowy sneaked out from her cover, trying to capitalize on the small break of the main conversation. "You mentioned ingredients earlier. Could you detail a little, if I may inquire? That gryphon did not look like the baking type. Why does he serve raw eggs?"

"Is that even a question? Oh- oh! Must be because you don't, well, drink any more. Wait- do you ghosts actually drink stuff? Ghost milk, perhaps?" Pinkie gave the windigo a quizzed stare. "That would be nice... going to GhostCo and getting a few litres of the stuff. Ooh, I would sure love to taste that! Do you have ghost-pies as well?"

"Miss Pie, you have obvious conceptual issues," Snowy pointed out. "You're asking an amnesiac ghost to remember all those many things."

"Is THAT what you're objecting to?!" Lyra screamed from the background, still rolling on the dirty floor with a hoof pressed against her face. The clean one this time. "Stop being stupid and help me, you idiot! Oh Celestia, my face! Ah... ah! I have torn off my face, I know I did! Why did I even do that?!"

Acting on the command before the rest of her impulses could react, Snowy leaped forward. She didn't continue to her Master however, slamming the breaks instead and giving Pinkie a begging stare.

"What?" the pink pony blinked, then clapped her hooves together as the realization dawned on her. "Ohhh, the dried-up yolk and sugar stuff, right? Silly pony-eating-ghost. I was referring the cocktails! Surely you've seen those already? Fancy drinks with tiny umbrellas on the top! Well, that gryphon up there? He does make a few cocktails. Not that I'd drink anything he touches, but I saw him whip up something earlier... too bad I know how his drinks smell. His wine, for example? I swear it's a mixture of sulphuric acid and sugar! Makes you wonder what he puts into the rest, eh? Maybe that's also why his counter sticks so well..."

"Sulphuric acid," Snowy repeated slowly, acknowledging the description with a shrug. "That sounds weird, Miss Pie. Like something a doctor would prescribe."

"Prescribe?! More like get you to one!" Pinkie frowned, then sighed as her gaze ventured onto the twitching Lyra. "In even more ways than I could imagine it seems."





"Hold still... we're almost done," Pinkie commanded, eyeing the other pony from a few centimetres. "Hmm, pretty good! Almost as good as new. In fact, you'll need to wait for it to be regrow to look better. So I guess it'll only be better when it'll be new! And that's 'almost as good as new' at its best."

In front of her was Lyra, sitting in a thoroughly broken pose.

"It's never going to be new," she cringed. By the hollowness of her voice, one could have assumed her windigo just made a snack out of her.

"Master still sounds rather strange," Snowy noted her tone. "Should I cool the bruise a little more?"

As a ghost, Snowy didn't have a tangible shape; which limited her interactions with the physical world to a great degree. She could only really rely on her windigo abilities to affect her environment, and those never came in huge varieties. She could drain objects of their heat - and that was about it. Sure, stories described ordinary windigos to be much more capable. Just how Snowy wound up deficient was up to anypony's imagination; her mind devoid of any information regarding herself, she couldn't offer any explanation.

Still, having a walking refrigerator next to one's self isn't a bad thing. The ghostly windigo had no problems numbing Lyra's face, turning the screaming wreck of a pony into a rather docile wreck of a pony. All Pinkie had to do was glue the torn pieces of hair back into their spot. Hardly ideal, but a badly combed spot was always better than a bald spot.

"You know, you're really like a B-movie villain," Pinkie giggled as she surveyed Lyra from a different angle. "No matter what you do, the greatest threat to you is always your own self!"

"Hardy-har-har," Lyra imitated some laughter with a mocking tone. "Because you're that much better, huh? Why don't you act out your little show yourself, then? Surely you don't need a clumsy fool who's a threat to herself!"

Whatever mark the comment hit, it wasn't intentional; Lyra was only grumbling because she was cranky. Pinkie however took it to heart, the goofiness quickly drying up from her face. She turned away with a much sourer expression, shuffling to a shelf full of bottles.

"Master, please calm down," Snowy tried to hit a soothing tone. "At this moment, we owe a great deal to Miss Pie. I understand you're feeling down, but please remain considerate."

Lyra gave the windigo a glare. Her eyes were as cold as her face though, the fire gone; only weariness was left in her gaze. It was obvious that at that precise moment, the Master ranked lower than the servant.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right," she sighed. She raised her eyebrows and bit onto her lip, nodding slowly to herself. "Sorry, I guess. Hey Pink-"

"Spike brought me these letters," Pinkie swept the shelf with a hoof. The move caught more than she intended: a few glasses fell and crashed straight away. Luckily they were empty, so didn't make a mess; only the clinking shards jumped around until they settled into the dust. The subjects of Pinkie's interest shared the same fate; a book also arrived on the floor with a thud, speeding past the many parchments that began to zig-zag their way down.

Lyra and Snowy both watched the papers dance in the air. They couldn't know for sure but felt: those papers were important, somehow. This was the sole reason why none of them spoke up, waiting for Pinkie to continue as she saw fit.

"Well... it'd be more correct to say he brought them to just about everypony he knew," Pinkie giggled weakly. She seemed to inch towards being upbeat; but that was more a force of habit than truly being in elevated spirits. "He said he found them in the library. You know... the library he always managed on his own. Some major oversight on Princess Celestia's part, the Daily wrote."

Lyra gulped. There must have been a reason her host brought that up; and if so, then it must have been her doing. Messing with ponies' memories again, no doubt.

"Anyhow, these are letters we wrote. You know, the exploits of Mane Five!" Pinkie leaned against the empty shelf with a wry smile. She fell silent, visibly waiting her guests to comment on the revelation.

"Something's wrong with them, right?" Lyra took the bait.

"I am siding with Master," Snowy scratched her head. "If those are letters you wrote yourselves... then Spike wouldn't go through the effort of showing them everypony."

"Oh, the letters themselves are fine! So fine you could almost eat them. You know: peachy-fine," Pinkie widened her grin until her teeth began showing. "That's what everypony told Spike anyway. I don't think anypony actually read these letters though. AJ is busy with her scandal, Rarity is trying save her business, Dash is being the complete braggart who won't have time for some flimsy pieces of paper, and Fluttershy... she is busy keeping tabs on Discord, yay. The perfect ingredients, wouldn't you say? Throw all those into the pot and stir - and bam, you have disaster! You did all that without anypony suspecting... you sly devil, you! Even I was left astounded when I finally realized."

"So, these letters... not only are they important, but nopony cared about them either," Lyra translated the lengthy speech to a variant her mind could more easily process. Then she narrowed her eyes and leaned towards the letter than landed the closest to her. "What's in them?"

"I just told you, silly! Our exploits!" Pinkie gestured with a hoof. "How the valiant Mane Six defended Equestria time and time again! Because that's right, there are six Elements of Harmony! I've actually borrowed that heavy encyclopaedia from the Golden Oak to double-check... right before I put it to use as a stool. You know, I wonder how is that library so full. Didn't ponies realize books are so multi-purpose?"

"Mane... Six?" Lyra blinked, her ears filtering the nonsense before they could get to her vulnerable brain. "But you just said there's only five of you."

"Every pony would tell you the same," Pinkie nodded. "Except these letters and a few books. Then again, those are just papers. They certainly don't count as ponies, so yes; every pony would tell you the same."

"Master! You got out of prison because nopony could remember you," Snowy gasped and spun towards Lyra. "Could you be that missing member?"

"No. I had to be forgotten because I did something unforgivable," Lyra shook her head. Her voice also shook, a barely suppressed giggle hiding in her tone. "Pinkie... you're referring to Twilight Sparkle, aren't you? She is the one missing from your group. I made everypony forget about her... but Snowy can only wreck minds it seems. The letters, they remained intact."

"You may have lost yourself, but your mind sure stayed edgy," Pinkie made a congratulatory smirk. "Yeah, that's how I realized. Apparently I was the only one who had a funny feeling about these notes... well me and Celestia, it seems."

"Celestia!" Lyra recoiled with shock.

"I heard this from Luna, so it's probably true. The sunny princess suspects something's up, but she's very much in the dark," Pinkie explained, looking around as if she was worried she'd get eavesdropped. "She has the bigger half of these letters, you see. I think she understands she used to have somepony she trusted... trusted enough to trust her with an Element anyway. So if you see the Sun getting up late next morning, you can be sure: she spent another night wondering just what trick befell her."

"Haa... so the charges against me... they were all valid!" Lyra broke into a grin and wobbled. She finally threw herself forward and smacked her head into the floor, generating a small cloud of grime. "I'm a freaking monster, that's what I am..."

"You think I would help a monster? Especially if she zapped one of my friends and kinda' broke the rest?" Pinkie raised her eyebrows. Her question also snapped Lyra out of her stupor, the cyan unicorn giving the pink pony a terrified look. "What? We were the Mane Six. I mean, okay! I don't really remember Twilight now... but I must have had! At some point. Err... probably. Anyway, my point is - you're a miniature destroyer of worlds, yep! That might make you a little unsavoury to the untrained eyes. But!"

"But," Lyra covered her eyes with her hooves, going fully limp as she laid on the floor.

"But I got this inkling that we need to add a Lyra-sized pinch of a salt to this pastry," Pinkie brought her hoof down, pointing straight at the cringing pony lying in the dust. "Or else this muffin is going to wind up tasting all sorts of wrong. Then I would need to give up my chef-hat, and let me tell you: I'm really proud of that. Or well, I WILL BE once I find it. I wonder where it was left... I was so sure it was in that cupboard..."

That worry left Lyra all sorts of cold. She was, however, rather concerned by the other matter. 

I have wrought so much chaos... all by myself, she says. And she still doesn't flip out at me. Does that mean... It was all to some end?

"You don't mind if I destroy the world," she spoke aloud, paying great care to not let her suspicion bleed into her tone. She also tried to give Pinkie a hard stare, but the swollen part of her face didn't really allow for such strict looks. "No, you're actually helping me to do so."

"Helping you! Hmm, hmm. I wonder," Pinkie sat down and stared back at the Lyra, her hoof pressed against her chin. "Sure, let's go along with that! You know, just for the sake of having fun. Let's say I'm helping you. Just why would I be doing that?"

"Because I'm your salt," Lyra threw the inane reasoning back to where it came from. "Because this giant muffin you're baking needs me, apparently."

"D'aaaw. Now you're making me sound so outrageous as if I was from some Shyamalan movie!" Pinkie cried out, snapping her hoof to her forehead as she struck an overly theatrical pose. "Just to let you know, that one hurt. With a capital H. Friends don't say such about each other!"

"Which brings us to the one hundred bit question," Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Are we friends, Pinkie? Or rather... were we?"

That question was straightforward; perhaps a little too much so. Pinkie snapped out of her overdone pose right away; she looked completely shocked, a first during their meeting in the cellar. Snowy was also confused, the windigo yanking her head left and right as she tried to look at both ponies at the same time. She didn't have much to observe. Lyra held still, waiting for an answer; and Pinkie only blinked in return, most likely wondering if she heard the question right.

The silence became palpable after only a little while. Only the noise of the inn filtered in from above, taking the form of faint murmurs and dull bangs - guests partying, tables being pulled aside, chairs being tossed.

"Master, I think we ought to-" Snowy gave in to the pressure.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. You're not mad, Pinkie - you're simply shrewd," Lyra interrupted her windigo without the slightest care. "Too bad you're also honest. When you said I'm your salt, you really meant all of it, didn't you? An important ingredient. You tried to focus me on the important bit... but that's only one of the two words, isn't it? So are we friends? You don't befriend something you intend to bake with, after all. Having to part with all those precious ingredients would make for a rather tearful muffin."

Snowy's eyes shot wide at the explanation. She turned to Pinkie, very slowly and as hesitantly as if the pink pony became the sun that would melt her ice-ghost body away.

Pinkie did no such thing, however. She remained sitting and even seemed to calm a little. Her hoof returned to supporting her chin, and the corners of her mouth twirled into an easy-to-miss smile.

"Silly Lyra," she giggled, shaking her head as much as she could without removing her muzzle from her hoof. "Of course we were friends! Everypony is my friend, no exceptions."

"That's nonsense," Lyra scoffed. That statement reeked of being a cop-out and there was no way she could accept it. "You can't be friends with everypony! No-one can!"

"Well, maybe I'm spe-ci-al!" Pinkie doodled, almost signing the last word. "Just like you are! Oh- oh! I see where the problem is. You don't recall that right now. Teehee, I'm silly! Forgot that you forgot. Axiom!"

Axiom, Lyra savoured the word. She knew that name, she was sure of it. What was it? It wasn't a pony, no... it was-

She glanced up and saw her answer.

From the shadows of the ceiling appeared a huge spider. It wasn't dropping or falling; it was descending just fast enough to leave no doubt about its abilities. His brief stunt quickly got everypony's attention, all the eyes tracking him by the time his legs touched the floor. He seemed like a mighty imposing ghost, a huge black creature with yellow eyes that glowed like tiny flashlights. His many eyes looked around as he landed, surveying the floor like an experienced veteran would...

...then he began to throw an impromptu dance. Whatever tune he moved to, it was fast; no more than two of his legs touched the ground at any moment.

"Agh! Agh! What are ya' doin', ya' CRAZY PONY!" he shrieked at Pinkie. "Look at all this dust 'ere! This place is FILTHY! Why'd ya' even make me come down 'ere, eh?! The ceiling's at least clean, ya' bastard!"

Her ears dropping to horizontal, Lyra sighed with all the pain of a broken illusion. Yeah, that was definitely Axiom... a spider no less special than his master.

"Puh-lease!" Pinkie turned to her ghostly spider. "I've been waiting for hours in this mess. Surely you can tolerate a few minutes."

"Ya've got hooves, ya' bastard! All ya've got touchin' the dirt are them fancy horseshoes!" Axiom's complaints flew unabated. "All I've got are these joint legs! See what my legs end with, eh? HAIR, THAT'S WHAT! I'm literally sweepin' this floor 'ere! What's you gonna' do about that, eh?! Ah, wait - nufin! 'Cause yer' a fricken' pony who doesn't care, that's what's happenin' 'ere!"

"What a fitting duo," Snowy muttered as she observed the conversation. "I wonder how he kept silent up until now."

"I bet he hoped Pinkie would forget about him," Lyra made a bittersweet smile. It felt nice knowing that she could have wound up with a worse ghost than a useless windigo, after all.

"There's a mat upstairs. You can just wipe your feet there when you leave," Pinkie pointed at the ceiling, or rather: at the inn beyond. "And you better do so mister, because I do not want you carrying all this grime to my Sugarcube. Mrs Cake would have my head on a plate if that happened!"

"Master, do you believe ghosts can get dirty?"  Snowy mumbled as she leaned closer to Lyra. "Because if so, then the state of this cellar begins to worry me as well..."

"Resist," Lyra cringed in response. "I know idiocy is strong with these two, but please resist the pull."

Snowy nodded heartily and proceeded to take countermeasures right away. She closed her eyes and plugged her hooves into her ears, becoming an image that further eroded Lyra's belief in intelligent life surrounding her.

"Yer' head on a plate! That'd be a bold menu," Axiom rubbed his head with one of his many feet. "But I kinda' doubt ya'd enough blood sugar to make that work. Then again, I've heard of some folks puttin' horse-heads into beds. Message delivery's a tough business."

"Wait, is that doubt I heard? Well, I'm letting you know right here and now: I fit any position just fine!" Pinkie stomped her hoof onto the ground, pushing some parchments and a lot of dust into the air. "Be it my neck, a plate or a bed, my head does brilliantly anywhere!"

Still cringing silently a few steps away, Lyra was reconsidering her opinion on simply plugging her ears with her hooves.

"Whatever ya' say, Boss! Anything that gets me outta' here on short order," Axiom capitulated by throwing four of his legs into the air. "So, what's ya' wanted me to do 'ere again?"

"Just do your magic," Pinkie pointed a hoof at Lyra.

"Aaaah, rite', rite'! Gotcha', Boss!" Axiom turned to Lyra as well, his eight legs shuffling around as he rotated. "So she's the one who wrote that horrid diary, eh? Sounds like one fun job. Ya' do know the risks, rite'?"

"Risks?" Lyra squinted, her ears perking back up right away. Come to think of it, I never saw Axiom in action before... I have no idea what he actually does. Or I simply made myself forget...

"Not ya'. Yer' gonna' be as safe as the christmas present ya' hid ten years ago and never found since," Axiom dismissed Lyra, his eight eyes turning to Pinkie instead. "I'm talkin' to da' Boss. Ya' do know that pullin' back an entire mind is dangerous, rite'? Ya' could go crazy."

"Ponies already call me crazy," Pinkie made a deranged face as she shrugged. "Wouldn't they be happy to be proven right?"

"I don't mean the happy kinda' crazy," Axiom sighed. Despite not having any facial muscles - or face - whatsoever, he was visibly put off by how his warnings fell onto deaf ears. "I mean the talkin'-to-yerself and sleepwalkin'-at-daytime kinda' crazy. Ya' know, the Jekyll and Hide kinda'."

"Wait! Wait," Lyra hastily interjected. "Let's not do this thing if it's so risky. There are other methods. Have to be!"

"Nah, I'll be fine. Just ignore the scarecrow! Or, eh, scarespider?" Pinkie waved a hoof aloofly. "Axiom, we've already discussed this, didn't we? You won't be getting treats if you keep skimping your work!"

"Pfffft! Boss, ya' know how I work! I can recall more conversations with ya' than how old ya' are! I just haven't the faintest which of them happened," Axiom rolled his eight eyes in perfect sync. He reached to the floor and picked the lone book up. He also held up two more of his arms, a quill and a blank parchment appearing in them. Then he held all three items in front of his eyes, looking really intent. "But, since this is what ya' really want... sure can do, Boss. Anythin' ya' want."

"Okay, just for the sake of my curiosity... what are you up to?" Lyra gulped as she watched the spider ready himself.

"Don't ya' worry 'bout me. I'm like yer' windigo," Axiom threw an answer without looking up from the book. "Well, more like an anti-windigo, kehehe. She's oblivion and I'm a poet! She erases memories; I write 'em."

With that singular answer, Lyra understood everything. Why she had to come to the inn, what Trixie was promising her, what Pinkie was planning... why she would agree to getting her own mind wiped.

A sleight of mind, huh...

"Fuhaha! You know, I had my doubts," Lyra laughed, feeling the weight of suspicion lift from her back. "But this - this is simply brilliant. I guess I'll owe you one! Or two, even!"

"Heh, well... will see if you want to thank me after we're done," Pinkie mused, turning serious all of a sudden. "Axiom is going to stuff everything back into your head, you know."

"Is... is that a bad thing? You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Lyra mumbled, each word carrying less and less confidence. She gave the pink pony a weak grin, hoping she just misunderstood something. "Not being amnesiac sure sounds promising to me... remembering yourself is good, right?"

"Nopony becomes a villain for no reason," Pinkie made a bittersweet grin. "I think you will want to be who you wanted to be when you were who wanted to be you right now. Still, I pinkie-promised I would do this... and so I will! Axiom, if you would..."

Lyra opened her mouth to protest, but the spider's quill struck his parchment first. The world around her burst into colours, sounds and noises; a vast sea of experiences, all wanting inside her head. It wasn't a pleasant feeling: the swirling chaos looked like a whirlpool of things.

Thoughts, emotions, experiences... values, morals, concepts, ideals.

All thrown into a mixer and coming out as some weird, psychedelic milkshake.

She lacked the words to describe that thing, but she was pretty sure that it frightened her.

Her opinion didn't matter much though. The pull of the whirlpool was much stronger than her, her resistance akin to a leaf trying to swim upstream. She was dragged by the colours before she knew better, and was fully submerged before she could as much as shriek. Oddly enough, she didn't hear the usual bubbling like when she was in water; all she could hear was rhythmic clanging and an odd whistle blowing in the distance. 

Almost like a steam train...






- FOUR MONTHS EARLIER -


The window was cold. Not just the kind, 'oooh let's touch this thing because it's soothing' level of cold; but harsh, almost oppressively cold. Cold enough to flash-freeze one's tongue to the glass, should one be stupid enough to give it a lick.

It still wound up as Lyra's favourite spot.

It was a stupid decision, there was no denying that. It was, however, properly explained by an equally stupid decision: some pony believing that trains passing through cold regions should have their heating dialled up to eleven. There was little joy in the frozen landscape zooming by when she was about to fuse with the seat beneath her. She sought relief from that purgatorial atmosphere - and only found one in that glass-pane. She would have actually pushed more than her nose against it if it meant cooling down further - but rubbing her side against the window might have given the others ponies the wrong impression.

"Lyra," came a voice from her right. "You're being weird again."

There was no edge to that statement; to ordinary ears, it must have sounded like so many other sentences. We're out of milk. Ah, it's going to rain today. Lyra, you're being weird again.

To the ears of trained musician like her, however, it was plenty evident what that sentence was. It was an admonishment, sprinkled with hints of thinly veiled threats. She knew those inside-out already. She could spot them coming even before Bon-Bon would need to say them out loud.

Lyra, you're sleeping on the couch. In a different house.

"I'm not being weird," she protested anyway, not willing to give up outright. It was a daring decision; once Bon got to the point of being actively threatening, she had already made her mind up about the punishment. Still, one had to have a few principles to fight for! Cold windows for everypony! "It's hot in here."

"Uh-hum," Bon-Bon mumbled absent-mindedly. She barely paid Lyra any attention, her gaze focused on the small magazine in front of her. "Sure is. Now stop leaving nose-marks on the window and act like grown-ups do."

"I'm acting like a grown-up," Lyra whined. "I am a grown-up. I can't act any differently!"

"You look like a grown-up," Bon corrected her friend as she flipped a page.

"Forever young, I want to be!" Lyra pouted. There must have been some unevenness to the tracks as the train jumped; the sudden motion also bumping the passengers inside. Lyra in particular wound up with her entire face pressed against the window. The bitter coldness made the hairs on her back stand at first, but she was in no hurry to detach from the icy pleasure afterwards.

"Lyraaaaa," Bon moaned, her voice inching close to a growl. "Sit properly or you're staying at home. I didn't come all this way just to make you behave."

"Then stop treating me as a filly!" Lyra mumbled as she hopped back into her place proper. "Lyra, don't do this! Lyra, don't do that! Lyra, sit! Roll! Fetch!"

"You're just whining now," Bon sighed, raising her eyebrows as she ran across some curious article. "Could you get me a glass of water when you're done? It's hot in here."

"That's what I said ten seconds ago," Lyra snapped her ears to her neck as she fumed. "That's exactly what I said ten seconds ago!"

"See, you can be smart when you're not being a spoiled filly!" Bon congratulated in the most distracted fashion possible, not even removing her eyes from the magazine. "Water please."

She didn't need to ask a third time. A plastic bottle landed square on her nose, first knocking her teeth together and then doing a group meeting between her jaw, the magazine and the floor.

"Aww, sorry about that!" Lyra cooed. Quite unfittingly to her tone, her mouth was sporting the largest grin she was capable of doing. "I thought you'd catch it. I guess I didn't think an article could be really so interesting."

Hooves clenched on her nose, Bon-Bon gave her friend a sharp look. Whatever she was planning she didn't follow up though; she just sighed and relaxed her expression.

"Stones and glass houses, eh?" she rubbed her muzzle. "It's good to know you're not the kind who holds grudges."

"Because I'm such a nice pony?" Lyra beamed, cracking her own bottle open with her unicorn magic.

"More like because you have the attention span of a bumblebee," Bon-Bon giggled. She also popped her bottle open - by locking the bottle between her hooves and breaking the cap off using her teeth. Then she spat the cap out and ran her tongue down her molars, chasing that odd sensation. Plastic always tasted wrong. "We'll always be best friends... given I survive those critical thirty seconds."

"Hey! I would take offence to that if bumblebees weren't so adorable, hard-working members of society!" Lyra waved her bottle threateningly, spilling mineral water over the floor.

"Huh. You know, that's quite right," Bon-Bon cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows as she considered the new point of view. "Poor bumblebees. They gather honey all year and don't even get a vacation."

"I doubt they'd like the cold," Lyra sneaked a glance to the frozen landscape outside the window. "Bugs don't really do well in cold as I heard. They're a little bit too small or something. They kinda' freeze to death."

"Ouch. Well, be glad we're not bugs I suppose?" Bon-Bon grinned after she gulped from her bottle. "That reminds me! Read this list... carefully, all right? I don't want no funny accidents once we arrive to Blizzard Buff."

"Another bunch of safety stuff?" Lyra frowned as she yanked the blue-coloured paper from her friend. She only had to give it a quick look to make her eyes shoot wide though. "Bon, this list is long! And by long I mean L-O-N-G! Am I really supposed to keep all this stuff in mind?!"

"You better do, because I'll be sure to bother you about it," Bon threw a wink at the rather distraught friend. "And you better hope I do it well, because I'm a lot more forgiving than mother nature."

"You made me sleep in the attic once," Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows.

"Sure did, and you deserved every bit of it. But you know, I can promise that I will never break your neck with an avalanche," Bon-Bon made a rebuttal that caused Lyra to frown and cringe at the same time. "So get to reading! I'll just browse this magazine in the meantime. Did you know we can actually rent skiing equipment for twenty bits a day?"
> 3 - Recreate
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Look, this is really fancy and all! But it's still just chocolate," Lyra eyed the steaming, brownish liquid. "...so they should just call it chocolate. That's all I'm saying."

"It's fondue... whether you know that word or not," Bon-Bon groaned. She was resting on a chair; a chair with so much cushioning that she was practically sinking into the stuff. Like a beanbag.

"I do know that word," Lyra crossed her legs in front of her. "That was just a joke. You know humour, right?"

"Isn't that the new neighbour who moved in last week?" Bon absent-mindedly pointed a hoof toward the ceiling. One of the cross-beams was straight above her, the aged wood almost as thick as her torso.

The rest of the ceiling was covered by similarly deep-brown pieces of wood. It was a low risk choice, the somewhat neutral colour meshing well with the dining room's warm atmosphere. It erred a little on the bland side perhaps, but that issue was offset by the flowery tapestry on the walls, roses and other lesser-known plants repeating in an intricate pattern. It seemed chaotic at first, but it really wasn't; that display of colours enhanced the uniform whiteness of the snowy landscape outside. Such comparisons were easy to make, as the room also featured a set of absolutely huge windows, the cut-crystal panels reaching from the floor right to the ceiling.

It was only a smaller castle, dwarfed even by some villas in Canterlot; but the Dancing Lights Château made up in beauty for what it lacked in size.

Having actually studied the place before she picked it for their vacation, Bon-Bon understood how that came to be. Far away from major parts of Equestria and locked in the grip of the icy snow all year, the château didn't always enjoy its current splendour. The last time it held any importance was more than a thousand years ago, when Equestria and the Crystal Kingdom weren't on unconditionally friendly terms. An age so long past that most didn't even bother learning about it.

The fact such a pointless stronghold still stood was nothing short of a miracle - and an admission to the hard work of the noble family living there.

Their trick was simple: hard work and tourism. The remote ice-paradise only started to see better days when Flash Freeze the twenty-fourth opened his domain to the public and turned the Dancing Lights Château into the Dancing Lights Lodge. North enough to "enjoy" chilly weather year around but still south enough to be connected to the railway, the spot became something of a smaller attraction. Small was also part of the emphasis, the retainers of the château having had no intentions of going hoof to hoof with the larger mainstream resorts. 

They also wanted preserve much of their old ways, of course. In the end, the Freeze family only wanted to do what they had been doing through so many generations: keeping their castle running. If that meant letting commoners into their vast estate for a nominal sum - in order to cover maintenance costs - , then they did just that. A fancy abode like the Dancing Lights did cost a lot of bits every year, after all.

A louder clang rose Bon-Bon from her thoughts. She had to lower her gaze to see the source of commotion; as only the two of them occupied the dining room, the place was completely silent apart from the cracking of the fire. Even the ring of a ceramic bowl became a deafening bang against such tranquil background.

"Mmrrrh," Lyra purred and licked her chocolate-covered lips. "This phon-doo is pretty amazing. I wonder why they don't sell it in Ponyville..."

"Melted chocolate's a lot less attractive when you're not surrounded by snow," Bon-Bon pointed out, then sat up. Or rather: tried to. The ridiculously soft cushion absorbed her movements, effectively trapping her in place. "And it's fondue, all right?"

"Are you warming up already?" Lyra squinted at the puzzling sight. Bon looked exactly like an overturned bug, her legs twitching around without any purpose whatsoever.

"Gnnnnnghrrhrhgnghr!" Bon-Bon gave the sole answer expected of a pony struggling to get up. She then adjusted her plan a little; instead of getting up, she just rolled around. She successfully wound up belly-down, and with a questionably firm grip on the soft material. "HA! Victory!"

Still licking the sugary sauce from her muzzle, Lyra began to clap. She wasn't sure if she really should have celebrated, but she had to do something. The reaction was wanting out of her, one way or another. Clapping at the awkward performance may have offended Bon a little, but still it was a lot smarter than hollering with laughter.

"Haaa... yeah. This chair really gets your heart pumping," Bon giggled at the reaction of her one-mare crowd, then reached towards her glass. That was also cut crystal, obviously; what else to drink from in such a château. The contents were more to Bon's interest, however. She put the crystal glass to her mouth and gulped greedily, the taste making her lips curl into a smile. A little. She had to get the recipe for that mulled wine. She grew more and more sure of that with each glass.

Lyra cackled at her friend’s reaction, hooves hiding an inane grin.

"Tee-hee! We need to learn how they make that stuff! This is the first time I see you drink wine!"

"Heh, now that you mention... I have a growing sympathy to Berry Punch," Bon rotated her glass a little, the move sloshing the hot wine around. "Last one though. Any more and I'll be rolling down the slopes!"

Lyra's face popped like a pufferfish for a moment, the pony heroically trying to subdue her reaction to the mental image. The expression wasn't lost on Bon though, as evident by her ears taking a dive, fitting snugly to her neck. That, in turn, snapped Lyra out of her merry mood.

Uh-oh, she gulped, the chocolate drying to her lips no longer bothering her so much. Am I in trouble? I think I'm in trouble.

She didn't need to worry too long, however; the most unlikely hero came to her rescue.

"Ah, my most esteemed guests! I hope you are having a splendid time here."

Both ponies turned their heads to the newcomer. It wasn't difficult to recognize the blue pony though; and that wasn't just because of the distinct sapphire tunic he wore or the silver pendant hanging from his neck. Everypony knew him, as he took the pain to personally greet everypony arriving to the Dancing Lights. Usually it was nothing but a brief 'wishing you a good time here', but the way he could utter those words left no doubt: he had rather sincere feelings behind the stock phrase. Bumping into him on any other occasion confirmed that readily; when not greeting a hundred newcomers en-masse, he was a little eccentric but ultimately well-meaning stallion.

Viscount Flash Freeze the twenty-sixth was quite fitting to run the Dancing Lights, all in all.

"Your phone-do rocks!" Lyra used her chance to escape Bon, turning to the noble with a lightning-quick twist of her head.

"It's fondue, got it?!" Bon growled, then gave their host a short nod. "We sure do, Viscount! This place is all sorts of amazing."

"Hahaha, why, thank you! I will make sure to pass your praise along," Flash Freeze smiled and made his way to the table of the other two ponies. Courtesy of the thick carpet, his approach was completely silent. "Though if I may... please do not refer to me by my title only. I get enough of that during formal gatherings. Just FF will do."

"FF!" Lyra clicked her tongue. That was a weird way to call a viscount. It would have been a pretty friendly term even for a mere commoner - especially with two mares he just met. "That'll take a little while to get used to."

In all fairness, it didn't take her more than a second to get used to. She really enjoyed being immediate best-buddies with a noble.

"I would greatly appreciate your efforts, though!" Flash Freeze settled to the table. "See, I like knowing that I am more than my title."

"Poor old you," Lyra snorted, ignoring Bon's alarmed expression. "I would surely love to be that title. Especially if it came with a huuuuuge castle! My very own castle, mmm..."

The unexpected turn of the conversation made Bon spring up from her place. The chair thwarted her movements again, though; she was only fiddling around, her legs sinking into the soft fabric.

"Ah, the château. Splendid construction, is it not?" Flash Freeze gave Lyra a deep smile. Then he closed his brown eyes and chuckled deeply. "But as I said, that is a praise I will have to pass up on. For all intents and purposes, I am nothing but an almighty janitor. The real work was done by my predecessors... especially the Eleventh. It was during his reign this very dining hall was built, for example."

"Woah. You're some weird noble," Lyra gawked. As usual, her tongue moved faster than her brain. There was little helping that though, as the noble's admission had such a dose of honesty that she almost began doubting her ears. She had no hope of reigning in her immediate reactions.

"Never mind that!" Bon cried out, trying her best to contain the damage. "Don't sell yourself so short, uh... FF. You're still doing a very good job at running this place!"

"Why, thank you!" Flash Freeze paid Bon-Bon a deep nod, the unusual gesture visibly surprising the commoner pony. "So would any of you two care for seconds? On the house, of course."

"Errr... thank you, but I think we're-" Bon began her most polite refusal.

"Sure!" Lyra jumped on the offer without any hesitation. "But only if you're going to do something more than just sitting around here. You're kinda' awkward this way."

Slamming her head onto the table as quietly as possible, Bon was pretty sure that the viscount was hardly the only one being really awkward.





Cold air makes for very beautiful skies, especially in the mountains. The air feels thinner and clearer. Clouds are few and far between. The backdrop also takes a deeper hue, sapphire taking place of the usual azure. That in turn makes the sun appear brighter, the eye-searingly bright disc the sole presence in the sea of emptiness.

There may have been more observations to make, but that was all Lyra could get to before she landed back into the snow.

The frozen flakes of water weren't particularly kind to her; it hadn't snowed in the last weeks and the aged snow compacted into denser layers. That made her landing a little harsher than she expected. She dug a few inches into the white stuff before she transited to rolling, finally just skidding on her belly. Then she stopped, her muzzle buried into a small white hill of her own making.

Then one of her skis dropped out of the sky, effortlessly embedding itself in the snow and scaring the living daylights out of her. It was a good thing her muzzle was buried into the snow, for she might have swallowed her sunglasses otherwise.

"How did you even DO that?!" Bon yelped, her skis drawing a single thick line into the snow as she braked to a halt. "Are you trying to show off because he's around?"

"Am not," Lyra watched the snow slowly melt from her nose. She was planning to get up - eventually - but she wanted to count all her ribs beforehoof. Just to be sure. She also devoted some time to hating snow and those thin wooden deathtraps ponies called skis... but she wouldn't complain out loud, seeing just how much Bon was enjoying herself. Everypony deserved a good vacation every now and then; her friends doubly so.

"I have never seen anypony fall like that," Bon slid to the vertically resting ski. She spent a few moments admiring the shiny red surface, then turned her brown sunglasses toward Lyra. "Just how did you throw this into the air anyway?"

"There's an easy and perfectly rational explanation," Lyra moaned as she lifted her head into the air. Getting back onto her hooves proved to be even more difficult; without the skis, she was just punching newer and newer holes into the snow. "I just have no idea what it is... ugh, how do you STAND there without any help?"

Bon chomped onto the ski instead of answering. She yanked the red piece of wood rather unceremoniously and threw it to Lyra.

"Figures," Lyra grumbled and placed a shaking hoof onto the ski. It immediately started to slide, only stopping when she stomped onto it. Hard. She may have been getting an itsy-bitsy fed up with the whole ordeal. All made worse by Bon, who was unknowingly rubbing salt into the wounds; despite both of them having started that morning, her friend was already pretty good at skiing in straight lines... and then stopping without tripping over all over the place.

She was still stuck at the tripping part.

"Not a bad performance," came a third voice, and Lyra immediately stopped trying to get her hooves locked to the ski again. She got more busy hiding her face and shrinking two sizes as Flash Freeze himself joined the small party.

"If you say so. She didn't break her neck at least," Bon sighed, her eyes scanning for the other bright-red piece of polished wood. "Seriously, Lyra. I told you to be careful..."

"But I am being careful, mom!" Lyra finally clamped the ski to her hooves with an annoyed stomp. "It's just this stupid thing won't go the way I want it to!"

"Then you stop! And not just slide down hoping you get the hang of it if you go faster," Bon admonished her friend with a bonk on her head. "Look around! Even fillies are doing it safer than you are!"

Huffing to herself in silence, Lyra sneaked a glance around. There were many dozens of ponies on the slopes, half of them acting as if they were true experts. While mid-spring wasn't a prime time for ski resorts, there were always a few guests everywhere. Some of them enjoyed the sparsely populated environment... and others enjoyed the greatly lower out-of-season prices.

Anyhow, she couldn't find the fillies Bon was talking about. No matter; she could well imagine a pony of any age doing better than how she did so far.

"Miss Bon, you would make a great safety instructor! Had I an open position, I would offer you the job on the spot," Flash Freeze gave the two a light laugh. "You are, however, not acting as teachers should. What happened to motivating pupils?"

Lyra gave a few hearty nods to that speech. Anything that got the verbal flak off her.

"Look, visc... FF. I'll gladly ease up on her when I see her acting responsibly!" Bon-Bon pointed a hoof at Lyra, the latter jolting at the mention. "Motivation is perfectly fine, and trust me: I would like to see her enjoying it. But I didn't organize a vacation to see her end in a hospital!"

"Certainly a valid point," Flash Freeze shrugged submissively. "I can not argue with that. Though maybe... hmm. Maybe I can ease your worries a little."

The offer got quizzical and even distrusting stares from both ponies, Lyra and Bon even going as far as openly glancing at each other in their bemusement. The source of their confusion was obvious: neither of them had any idea what the strange noble could have been talking about.

"Ahahaha, I see I managed to weird you out!" Flash Freeze laughed embarrassedly, the display of emotions not lost on him. "I did mention 'a little', so do not expect me to perform some miracle on the spot. I was more thinking along the lines of something like this..."

Still in the crossfire of puzzled stares, the noble quickly undid the neck of his jacket and rummaged inside. Bon was pretty sure he was looking for a flier with quick instructions - though she had no idea why an expert skier like the viscount would carry one. Lyra, on the other hoof, was expecting a smaller bottle of wine or rum to show up... and she was pretty sure why a viscount would carry something like that with him.

They were both surprised when the noble flung his silver amulet towards Lyra, the jewellery landing almost right at her hooves.

"I have no idea if you are the sentimental type," Flash Freeze remarked as he tried to pack his white mane back into the neck of his jacket. "That amulet is rumoured to have some odd properties. One of them is protection from cold; so who knows, it may be of some use to you. Snow is pretty cold, after all!"

"A magical amulet...?" Lyra blinked at the strange object. Magical or not, it was an intricate piece of work; a long, carefully crafted silver chain connected to a blue gem, cut in the stylized shape of a snowflake.

"This is insane!" Bon gasped, hastily trying to get her hooves free from her skis. "There's no way we can accept this!"

"Oh, I am certainly not parting from it forever," Flash Freeze made a smirk over the mere idea of him giving such a relic away on a whim. "But I can do without this heirloom until we meet again... just to ease your worries a little."

There was no way he could confuse the two ponies more thoroughly than that. Both Lyra and Bon was left standing in place, alternating their stares between the amulet, the viscount and finally at each other.

"You came quite a way for this experience. So I expect to only meet you in château after dark," Flash Freeze winked at them and skidded away, leaving only two thin stripes in the snow. He remained in the focus of both mares until he took a turn to the right, disappearing behind a group of snow-covered pine trees.

"You think this is real?" Lyra poked the amulet. It was still lying in the snow as none of them dared to touch it so far.

"I'm sure he carries a bunch of replicas on him. You know, just in case," Bon bit onto her lips, then poked Lyra in the side with a ski. "Of course it's real - duh!"

An amber aura enveloped the silver amulet, the fancy object flying out of the snow and levitating mid-air. It rotated slowly, first to the left and then to the right, giving the ponies a good look from all angles. There wasn't anything suspicious about it though; a fact that only served to make both of them a little more suspicious.

"He's really going for the PR," Lyra concluded with a shrug as she threw the amulet over her head.

"Or he's just one of those romantic idiots. You know, the type who wouldn't mind falling for a pony who's absolutely ignorant about the fact," Bon mused, watching the silver necklace dangling from her friend's neck.

"Ha! Missing the advances of a noble... only a complete idiot would do that!" Lyra cackled. Then she dug a hoof into the snow and pushed, sliding awkwardly on her sole ski; her aim set on the other red piece of wood, lying half-buried some ten metres away from her.

"Thanks a lot, you love-fool dunce!" Bon cringed to herself. Her dismay was fuelled by how Lyra struggled to retrieve the missing part of her equipment - only to trip and fall, swearing loudly all the way. "Now I've got to watch out for a careless pony and a priceless amulet. Some vacation..."





"Seriously?" Bon muttered, carefully adjusting her voice so the departing waitress couldn't hear her. "Hayburger?"

"Hey, I figured I'd give it a shot!" Lyra gave her a shrug. "I never try such things back at home. Gotta' try everything once, right?"

"Everything except incest and folk dance," Bon paraphrased with a serene nod. "Got that right, I suppose. Huh. Now I'm almost regretting that fruit salad..."

"Just yell. Changing your order is no big deal," Lyra darted her amber eyes to the right, trying to find their waitress. It was a hopeless endeavour; all the guests were packed into the dining hall, making it easy for a single pony to disappear into the crowd. "Yeah, you'll have to yell. Want me to yell?"

"Always itching to be the center of attention, huh?"  Bon chuckled. She rolled her head around, the move making her neck pop a few times. She may have been sitting at the table smiling, but she felt dead tired actually. She enjoyed the day, all in all; even with all the distractions and the constant worry, skiing was quite fun. Just really, really draining. More so than any sports she has tried so far. "Don't bother. I'll just try that tomorrow... IF you liked it!"

"Ha! What, I'm your food-tester now?" Lyra threw a sly grin at the other pony. "Sure, I can do that. Anything for my little assistant!"

"Assistant!" Bon narrowed her eyes to slit sand giving her friend a piercing stare. "When did I become that?"

"When you organized a whole trip here, all on your own! I even thought you went a little crazy, hoarding a whole pile of magazines. Shows what I know, huh? " Lyra reached over the table to pat the Bon on the head. "You did a really great job though! Say, feel like organizing my next show as well? I'm supposed to do a performance at the-"

"Nope!" Bon brushed the cyan hoof away from her. "Not until you can give me a monthly wage!"

"Well, I'll gladly remind you that we came here from what my performance at the Opera cashed us," Lyra smiled slyly, turning her head away from her friend. The flame of the candle on their table drew her attention; or, more precisely, the reflection of it. They had a good view of the windows as they sat at the same table like earlier that day, but the view was much different. With the outside world being dark and the many candles and fireplace illuminating the dining hall, all she saw were their own reflections; only the moon managed to penetrate the crystal window, its pale form meshing into the reflections.

"Sure thing. I'll gladly remind you that you mooch off me between two big hits though," Bon chuckled with equal confidence. She also turned a little, following the gaze of the cyan unicorn - and also winding up staring into the flickering light. She only realized that fact a few moments later, the thought squeezing another chuckle out of her. "Drawn to the candlelight... we're like two moths, haha."

"D'aaaw, and here I was thinking you'd say romantic!" Lyra giggled evilly, then yanked her head to the side. The move made her silver necklace bounce around, its blue gemstone sparkling even against the scattered light. The sight really pleased her and even led her to an important decision.

I need a huge dressing mirror at home, she clicked with her tongue.

"You're nopony to talk about romance," Bon sighed, moving a hoof to her temple. "You still have no idea why you got that pendant, do you...?"

"Of course I do!" Lyra snapped her eyes back to her friend, her face shining with triumph. "FF said it was a good charm thingy!"

"So...?" Bon cocked her head to the left, her hoof slowly massaging the side of her head. She had no idea why, but she was preparing for a mind-numbing answer already.

"He gave it to me so I don't break my neck!" Lyra exclaimed with a self-confident nod. "Tourists dying on the slopes does NOT make for good PR! Ha, am I smart or something?"

Bon's muzzle took a dive, the earth pony holding both her hooves on her face. She had absolutely no idea how to respond to that one. Probably just nod and play along. Yeah; that was probably the least painful way...

"My, my. To think I would be seen through so easily."

Bon didn't act too hastily. There was no need to either. She just cracked her eye open; as expected by the voice, she was staring at the viscount. The noble wore a thick white coat this time, the fluffy material matching his mane to the point where she couldn't see where one ended and the other began.

Must have been real expensive to tailor that.

"FF!" Lyra turned to the noble with a honest grin. "We've just been talking about you!"

"So I have heard," Flash Freeze paid the two ponies a token bow. "It is rather peculiar, but all my guests seem to have dinner at the same time. Which is, coincidentally, also the time-slot I prefer myself. I know it is rather embarrassing, but may I take a place at your table?"

Lyra quickly darted her eyes around, just to confirm her suspicion. It wasn't hard to see there were still tables unoccupied. Those were all in the back, however; the owner of the whole castle would likely not consider them as valid choices.

Yeah, this whole place is his, she reminded herself. This is like him asking for a place at his own table. Probably one of those polite mannerisms the nobles do, huh?

She was quite sure she wouldn't ask for permission was this her home. She always just did whatever she felt like, even when she had guests over.

"Sure, there's plenty of space here!" she mentioned at their table with a hoof. "I'm actually glad you've picked us... teehee! Right, Bon?"

"Ye- yes. Very glad," Bon mumbled, visibly tenser than she was moments before.

"So how did your first day skiing go?" Flash Freeze asked, the question hovering between a mere formality and actual curiosity.

"Pretty good, thank you," Bon gave an impeccably polite answer.

"I didn't even break my neck! Or, eh, any other limbs. Despite somepony always imaging THAT happening," Lyra threw a toothy grin at Bon, who only leered back angrily.

"Well, you are wearing my lucky necklace," Flash Freeze chuckled, the scene entertaining him greatly. "It would be really bad sports if it allowed harm come to you."

Lyra blinked a few times, then snapped her gaze downward. She almost forgot she had better gave that present back.

"Oh! Yeah, this thing also helped! ...probably," she giggled absent-mindedly, her amber magic lifting the silver pendant right away.

"I do not mind you hanging onto it a little longer," Flash Freeze shook his head. "Keep it until you are confident on the snow. There will be plenty of chances to return it anyway; you are staying for two whole weeks, after all."

That off-the-hoof remark drew the attention of both mares, both pairs of eyes equally curious and puzzled.

"Haha, well... I am the owner of the Dancing Lights!" Flash Freeze explained with a short but very nervous laugh, his hoof scratching the mane on his neck. "It would be strange if I did not know of the reservations."

"And you can recall all of them? Just like that? Woah," Lyra whistled admiringly, her bamboozled expression staying unchanged. "I can barely remember where I put my winter clothes!"

"Explains why you're always trying to wear mine," Bon-Bon grumbled under her nose. She wasn't exactly surprised at the revelation anyhow; Lyra has already raised her thresholds quite high. She turned to the noble instead, the issue with the amulet still bugging her. "FF, the necklace... you said it was an heirloom. Surely it would be better back with you?"

"Heirloom," Lyra yanked the silver jewellery into her view. "I've been meaning to ask... was it from your grandpa' or something?"

"You could say that," Flash Freeze raised an eyebrow and gave the ceiling a thoughtful glance. "The pendant is from the very original Freeze... Flash Freeze the First. So my very very-great-great-great-grandfather, in a way. Then again, that is such ancient history that even I do not feel any connection any more, hahaha!"

"The first!" Bon gulped. Images from earlier flashed through her mind; how they spent a half hour digging up a slope after Lyra stumbled and lost the 'stupid amulet that stupid noble threw at her'. They almost gave up and left the thing there - and the mere possibility of such a thought made her really uneasy all of a sudden.

"Woah. This thing is OLD!" Lyra stared at the pendant, her amber eyes reflected in the glistening blue gemstone. "Is it really magical, though?"

"That is rather hard to say. It is as old as the château itself, so it is only natural it gathered the same amounts of silly superstitions," Flash Freeze shrugged. "But I have seen stranger things than an enchanted amulet, so I always tried not to judge it too harshly. For all I know know, it may wind up saving a life one day! Yes, that most certainly would be a poignant confirmation."

"Well, it helped me today! Not quite saving my life yet... but kinda' handy," Lyra giggled. She let go of the necklace; the silver pendant bounced around a few times before settling down. She was pretty sure it provided her no help whatsoever; but it was also quite fancy and she took her chance to parade around with it. Even if for only a little longer.

"Ugh, there she goes with the hands again..." Bon went back to burying her face in a hoof.

Fate decided to spare her though, the salvation arriving in the form of the waitress bringing their food. The unicorn wore a strange, black-and-white garb; she also carried a slightly oversized metal plate a little above her head, crossing the many tables of the dining hall with eerie precision. She arrived at their table in complete silence and placed the three plates in a heartbeat; a blink and she was also gone, disappearing among the other guests as quietly as she arrived.

Flash Freeze paid his employee a barely noticeable nod; he seemed satisfied with the performance. Quick. Efficient. Graceful, even.

"Woah!" Lyra went with her own way of admiration. "That's... that's like a ninja. A ninja waiter."

"The only kind of ninjas I could settle with," Bon aloofly commented, most of her attention focused on the bowl in front of her. Inside the porcelain dish was a batch of fresh fruit salad, the various delicacies forming a pretty colourful mix. It looked rather appetizing, the image only stained by the strong smell of hayburgers right next to her.

That fact took the earth pony a moment to click. HayburgerS. Plural.

Afraid that her curiosity may cause trouble, Bon moved her eyes ever so slowly. Her gaze wandered away from her salad, onto the white tablecloth and finally onto a hayburger... then onto another. It took all her self-control to suppress the surprised gasp; props to her fortitude, only a small cough left her mouth. That was a reaction so underwhelming that nopony could have suspected why she even made it.

But still! The viscount eating a hayburger, of all things!

The wrinkles deepening above her eyebrows as she wrecked her mind, Bon quickly pieced together the most likely story. As the owner of the whole place, it wouldn't be difficult for Flash Freeze to keep tabs on them. What they do, where they eat, what they eat... especially Lyra, whom he became infatuated with. A clumsy attempt to break the ice: ordering the same thing she ordered.

What a strange vacation, Bon groaned to herself as she forced a poker face. She was quite intent on sitting that one out. She may have been sharing a table with the two, but she was just a background pony at that moment. It would have been rude to get involved, for one; and she was also somewhat curious to see how the viscount's effort would fail on her thick-headed friend, for two. Ordinary ponies rarely understood just how mysteriously Lyra's mind worked at times.

Most times.

"Oh, lookie!" Lyra blinked, the extra burger also catching her interest. "Two hayburgers! I thought I only ordered one."

"That is quite all right. We just happened to order the same tonight," Flash Freeze looked away. He tried to look very innocent and even surprised; but he proved to be a quite mediocre actor. "A fancy coincidence, I suppose."

Holding back a laughter this time, Bon wondered if there was a pony who would fail to see through that excuse. Other than Lyra, apparently.

"I see," Lyra nodded thoughtfully. "Gotta' be some pretty good hayburger then... if even the viscounts like it, I mean!"

"I sure hope it would be," Flash Freeze giggled somewhat nervously, the carelessly chose words betraying how he has never ever tried the thing before.

Lyra, however, did not dive in right away. She stared at the burger and focused intently, looking as if she forgot how she could move the piece of food with her magic. Then she turned to the viscount and began giggling pretty nervously.

"Ahah... ahaha... say, FF, would you mind if I asked a favour of you?"

"Most absolutely not," Flash Freeze shook his head. "What do you have in mind?"

Lyra took her time answering; only the twitching of her face showed how she was going over the idea multiple times.

"You live here, right?" she finally asked, her voice still distant. "I mean, you can try these burgers every day. Bon and I, however... we're just visiting here. Sooo, I was thinking..."

Don't you dare say something stupid, Bon cringed, already anticipating something utterly awkward to follow.

"Could you switch plates with Bon?" Lyra smiled and leaned close to the viscount. "I mean, if you don't mind..."

Both Bon and Flash Freeze were dumbstruck at the request. Bon found it difficult remembering to breath; she could only gasp in short, ragged bursts. That idiot was humoured by a viscount - the noble actually ordering the same dish she had - and she nonchalantly asked him to swap it away! Forget missing all the cues during the day, that was like missing a freaking tower on the top of a mountain! Lyra, even you can't be this-

"Most gladly!" Flash Freeze switched to a smile without missing a beat, then turned to Bon. "May I?"

"Uuuuh... uh-huh?" Bon nodded. She looked as unsure as she felt; she was expecting the noble to take offence, but saw none of that happening. He seemed... quite pleased at the development, in fact.

Then it struck her.

You don't even like hayburgers, she thought as the viscount moved the fruit salad and the hayburger around. The realization made her grin, a sign the viscount took as her being helpful for the change in meals. No matter; she was way more interested in the doomed-from-the-beginning love affair than any food at this point. 

Poor FF couldn't have picked a harder ordeal. His struggle would make this the most memorable vacation possible, though.





Some ponies loved mornings. They could instinctively tell when the sun would come up, waking up just a little before that. They would roll out of bed, all fresh and ready to go; and they would be on the street as the sun rose, heading toward the adventures of the new day, full of power and energy.

Lyra always wished she was one of those freaks.

Her mornings always started with drowsy eye-rubbing... then a bitter struggle against just snoozing for a half hour more. Then she would scamper out of bed - eventually - and crawl all the way to the kitchen, kick-starting her system with a huge mug of coffee. Too bad hotel rooms didn't have kitchens, making the reception the nearest source of that lifeline.

That's four levels down, Lyra groaned and dug her head beneath her pillow. She already knew that was way too far. In all honesty, she couldn't tell how she managed getting up the day before. Then something filtered through the fabric on her head, finding its way to her nostrils...

She knew that smell. She could tell what it was, even if she had to wake up from the deepest depths of her slumber.

Propelled by unicorn magic, the pillow flew away from her head; and she got a fresh view on the world. It was a rather small world, only consisting of a small paper cup. There was also a beige earth pony holding the tray the cup was on... but to Lyra, the cup was everything in that moment. She concentrated so her amber magic did its job, and the cupful of coffee was already hovering in front of her face.

"Hot," Bon cautioned her as she placed the tray onto the bed.

Fresh was all that Lyra heard, and she hastily began to drink. The rushing pain cleared away any and every bit of sleepiness she had; she could feel every part of her tongue flare up as they came into contact with the steaming liquid.

"I said it was hot!" Bon recoiled at the sight, cringing as mightily as if she were the one suffering.

"Duncare," Lyra mumbled and took a few quick breaths to calm her mouth. "Caffeine."

"You're nuts," Bon shook her head and turned around, moving to her own bed. "How's your head anyway?"

"Hurts," Lyra admitted. She blew some air onto her cup, the white steam disappearing for a moment - only to be back as soon as she took a breath. "T'is a bad morning."

"Serves you right! Get up already though, we're having breakfast soon," Bon chuckled loudly and pulled a drawer from the bottom part of her bed. "You know how the saying goes! You should be lively in the day if you could be lively in the night."

Lyra recalled that phrase, though it was a difficult rummage with how heavy her head felt.

"What?" she squinted at Bon as the accusation dawned on her. "There was a party last night...?"

"One of a kind!" Bon giggled. Her voice was a little muffled as she was halfway into the drawer, looking for something. "You started tasting wine... then you borrowed the viscount's violin, stood onto a table and played the Blue River waltz."

Taking another deep sip of the slowly-cooling coffee, Lyra closed her eyes and rubbed her head. She couldn't recall any of that. Her memories ended at the point where she finished her hayburger... after which FF asked if she cared for some dessert. That one turned out to be some old ice-wine; an oily-thick wine that was almost as sweet as sugar syrup. Then... then she woke up. Crankily and with a mighty headache.

"Ugh," she dropped her head and rubbed the back of her neck. "Did I do..."

"...anything stupid? Nah. Nothing out of ordinary," Bon cheerfully placated her, the earth pony yanking a small purse free. She placed it onto the mattress of her bed and began to check its innards.

"I don't play the Blue River standing on tables. Usually not," Lyra chuckled sombrely, breathing in the smell of coffee emanating from her cup. "Must've been a sight... a thoroughly drunk unicorn destroying a priceless violin. Ugh."

"Ease up, Miss cranky-morning. The viscount was there all along. He would've stopped you if you did something THAT stupid," Bon turned her head and winked at the cringing unicorn. "But it wasn't so bad... it was pretty good, actually! Goes to show that music is ingrained into your reflexes already, haha!"

"Ha. Ha. Haaa," Lyra laughed, as sarcastically as she could manage. "Wait, what? FF was there all along?"

"As if he would miss that sight," Bon rolled her eyes and closed her purse.

"I hope he isn't mad," Lyra bumped her nose against the paper cup. "He was kinda' nice yesterday."

"Kinda' nice, huh...?" Bon turned around and eyed her friend with some disbelief. Then she shook her head and hit a more placating tone. "Don't worry about him, anyhow. He'd have taken his necklace back if he was really angry at you!"

Jolting as if somepony pinched her, Lyra yanked her head backward. The move was followed by a series of faint clinks; the silver jewellery moving around her neck.

"Woah," she mumbled as she rubbed her forehead with a hoof. "I almost forgot about this thing."

"Good thing I didn't. Now take it off... then go get a shower," Bon commanded, her hoof pointed at the bathroom of their room. "And hurry up! They will stop serving breakfast in half an hour."

The snappy tone only serving to worsen her headache, Lyra made a weary nod. She rose her cup and downed the last of her coffee, then scampered out of bed with all the willingness of a paralysed chicken.

Ugh, I can so see it. This gonna' be a fun day...
> 4 - Respite
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

You can't just turn as if you were walking; rotating a two-metre piece of wood is quite hard. To make a turn, you need to yaw those skis. Bend your legs and move your centre of mass. It's not difficult...

...but as she sped down the slope, Lyra was pretty sure that instructor was full of it. Just bend your legs! Sure! Every instruction sounds simple in theory. She had her hooves full just keeping herself upright, her sense of balance not being on friendly terms with the odd posture the skis demanded. That part went fairly well anyhow; going forward without tripping over.

Taking turns was a different matter.

She tried to do as the instructions said. She didn't try to force the skis; she just bent her legs and leant a little to the right, hoping the shift of mass would do the work for her. It seemed to work fairly well: she entered a turn to the right. A ridiculously wide turn that was almost as if she just wanted to strafe, but a good enough beginning. It stayed a good enough beginning too, as something went wrong mid-motion. She didn't realize what happened - she only felt a yank on her left legs.

Uh-oh.

Then saw as the red piece of wood sail draw an air in the air. Which looked majestic and everything - those small flecks of snow were nothing short of wonderful - but alleviated little of how the ski was doing the performance without her.

This ain't looking goo-

Heavier than a polished piece of wood, Lyra didn't catapult into the air herself. She got yanked hard to her left instead. Courtesy of her twenty-some hours of experience, she didn't crash straight away; the other ski remained firmly attached to two of her hooves, so there was hope. Indeed, she managed to balance herself just right and avoided falling off. It wasn't a truly conscious action on her part; she just wanted to avoid crashing at all costs. The only thing she could note was how there was a good reason why skis came in pairs: balancing on one was borderline torture. No matter how she tried, Lyra couldn't find a stable position over the remaining piece of equipment. She was swaying to the side all the time, each correction proving to be just a little too large. She succeeded anyhow, drawing a wavy line into the snow as she worked her way down the slope. The balancing game required her full focus, though. Appropriately, the larger world stopped registering with her; a problem which a larger tree was happy to remind her of.

It was a short lesson. Just a dull thud and then darkness. And cold. Lots of cold. Lyra saw how the pine-trees were covered with snow, but she had no idea of the real quantity until the whole white stuff fell on her.

"Oh for the-! Vacation, she says! FUN, she says!" Lyra grumbled as she started digging herself out. Such was her rage that not even a mouth full of snow could stop her from cursing. "I swear, next year I'm taking her to Saddle Arabia just so she can get toasted! Just who the heck puts trees next to a practice lane- whah?"

She forgot about the last few words, a reaction attributed to something pushing the snow off from her in a rough fashion. Somewhat dazed, Lyra's first act was to blink up - but her horn didn't start using her magic without her conscious will yet. Then she glanced to the side and saw the source of the quick help.

"The practice lane is over there," Flash Freeze exclaimed, acting impeccably calm for somepony who was administering first-aid at a crash scene. "You skidded right across two barriers, an empty lane and a black lane. I was actually wondering if you would also cross this forest, but it appears the powers be decided you had enough fun already."

"Fun..." Lyra snickered. She relaxed her neck, her head dropping all the way to the snow - which wasn't much, considering the small hill she was still buried in. "Could you get me out of this pile?"

"Certainly!" Flash Freeze nodded. He gave no other indication of compliance though; Lyra remained stuck in the snow-hill while the noble turned his head from one side to the other.

"MOVE ALREADY!" Lyra yelled, her frustration with the day reaching its peak. "GET! ME! OUT! YOU-"

She was yanked forward the next moment... and was back to being neck-deep in the snow another moment later, the white slope being the same slushy-soft as the earlier snow-hill. She sunk straight back in, only stopping once her torso was almost halfway buried.

Lyra gave that fact a pretty sombre assessment.

"Figures. You know what? I actually hate snow."

"Well, I did want to find your other ski... or at least find a suitable resting place to pull you onto," Flash Freeze sighed, shaking his head with mild disagreement while he pushed a red ski next to Lyra. "Let me see your head, anyhow. You gave this tree a real hard hug there."

Lyra tried the logical thing. She placed her front hooves onto the skies and tried lifting herself out of the snow; but the cracking sound quickly convinced her to stop. I must be a little too heavy. So she stopped mid-motion, hooves still on the ski but only halfway out of the snow. It was about as embarrassing as it could get, made worse by the viscount openly checking her out; but it also meant only half of her clothes getting wetter by the second.

She could settle for that.

"Well would you look at that!" Flash Freeze whistled, then walked away and yanked the other red ski from beneath the snow. "You look fine, Miss Lyra. Also, the missing part of your attire resurfaces... lucky breaks all around!"

"Real lucky," Lyra gave the red ski a hateful glance, then tried to climb back onto it. It worked surprisingly well; she didn't start to slide as she fiddled around. Only after a minute did she realize the reason. The viscount was holding her skis in place with a carefully placed stomp.

"Thanks," Lyra sighed once she got the skies locked back to her hooves. The adrenaline thinning out of her blood and the cold doing its work on her, she felt a lot less annoyed than earlier. A lot more embarrassed, too. "I think..."

"It is quite all right," Flash Freeze made a toothy grin. "I am not just the proprietor of this domain. I must take my share of looking after the guests... and skiing outdoors always suited me better than being locked up in the château all day. Administration and housekeeping gets boring rather quick."

"Even so! I guess you just love idiots who make your job harder," Lyra bit onto her lips.

"I would be unable to keep the Dancing Lights in shape without idiots who come here," Flash Freeze winked at her, then procured a rope from his saddlebag. "Stand still, now. With those wet clothes, I think it would be wise we took you to a shelter, Miss Lyra."

You love us idiots... but you still would rather drag me there than ask me to follow you, Lyra nodded, careful the dejection did not show up on her face. The logical part of her understood that Flash Freeze was only doing his job. The viscount would surely prefer hurting a customer's feelings than letting those customer kill themselves. The latter was kind of bad for PR.

But as the rope got tied around her torso, she couldn't help but wish she sank back under the snow.

Forever, if possible.





"Aaahhhh. I always liked the smell of burning wood," Flash Freeze took a deep whiff from the air. "It reminds me of my younger days... when I would have the time to prepare meals in the wild. Good days. Simpler days."

Wrapped snugly in a thick blanket, Lyra gave the bout of nostalgia an absent-minded nod. She was more interested in the fire. The yellow-red flames were crackling in the fireplace of the safe house. It was the only warm spot in the building, and after a half day of practising in the cold outside, she felt more than grateful for the respite.

She did wonder why they picked the small shack instead of just going back to the château, though. Maybe because it was a lot closer? It also had a supply of warm blankets. It was completely empty and lacked any charm the old castle-turned-hotel had, though. No dining hall or kitchen service either...

"It is almost impossible for me to make my own meal nowadays," Flash Freeze carried on, his gaze lost into the fire. "The Dancing Lights does not permit such tomfoolery. Always something to do, always something to attend to..."

"That's why you brought me here," Lyra uttered as the realization hit - and bit onto her tongue right away. Still a little too late, as usual. The best she could do was break into a cold shiver and mentally smack herself over the head.

Brain, why are you a slow-poke all the time?

"I brought you here because it is a rather long way back to the château," Flash Freeze gave her a surprised look. "I would also assume that you would have preferred not to be seen by everypony in that state."

"In that state...?" Lyra raised an eyebrow. She was perfectly fine. Her nose was a little swollen and she had a splitting headache - but to any spectator, she would appear just dandy.

"Being dragged back by a rope," Flash Freeze chuckled lightly and turned back to the fire.

"Oh! Oh, err... oh," Lyra pulled the blanket over head. If that was the viscount's true reason, then he was being awfully considerate with her.

"Haha, that sounded nice, did it not? In truth, I am being quite selfish right now," Flash Freeze giggled to himself. "You could be seriously hurt, so I did not want to leave you out in the field. You look fine, though... so I neither wanted to get my doctors or the authorities involved too early. I am dragging you back on the first sign of you being unwell, though."

"Am fine," Lyra hastily muttered. She was pretty sure of what she could expect if that came to pass. Word would spread, and she would never live the shame down. Especially since Bon started taking the blue slopes that morning.

"A relief to hear that," Flash Freeze sighed. His entire figure relaxed a little, the viscount leaning further back as he rolled his head around. "I saw you run over the signpost at the edge of the practice area... but I honestly expected you to just stumble after you lost a ski. By when I decided to chase you, I was already too late. I think my heart skipped a few beats when I saw you head into the forest... and then once more when you hit a tree."

I struck a signpost? Lyra blinked, the explanation of her accident turning out to be oddly down-to-earth. Looking around before taking turns... did I really miss that part?

"You were the first to help me anyhow," she waved a hoof at the noble. She couldn't tell if FF was being moody, upset or simply relieved; so she tried her best to nudge him towards the last. Eccentric as he might have been, the noble was pretty friendly to them so far. He really deserved better than taking flak for a mistake a stupid pony made.

"Thank Celestia I was near when it happened," Flash Freeze rubbed a hoof against his forehead. 

That absent-minded comment also drew Lyra's attention to the strange fact: whatever she happened to do over the last two days, the viscount was always nearby. Musing on that for an idle moment, Lyra came to the most logical conclusion.

The viscount clearly had some sort of omnipresence inside his domain. Which was all sorts of cool, even at first consideration.

"Yep! Sure you were," Lyra giggled, trying to lighten the mood; then she leant forward just enough so the silver pendant flipped out from the blanket's cover. "I'm just peachy, too! So quit being so broody. No way I could be hurt with this amulet on me anyway, eh?"

Despite all odds, the goofy remark worked. Flash Freeze quenched a laughter into a snort and turned around, his brown eyes wandering onto the amulet.

"Yes, well... who knows? Maybe it does work," he stared with an incredulous expression.

"Surely it does!" Lyra stuck to the topic that seemed to work. "I'm pretty sure it does!"

"See, I am not a pony who gives much for baseless superstitions," Flash Freeze mused, his hoof moving from his forehead to his chin. "But I am glad that you found some faith in it. Going down the slopes is often times like life, where success hangs on the confidence in one's self. I would be really glad to hear that my trinket helped you anyhow! Much more enjoyable than its story with the Ninth."

"The ninth..." Lyra echoed with a vacant expression, the title evoking nothing from her mind. Then the number clicked and she switched to an inane grin. "Ah! You mean one of your great-great-great-whatever ancestors, right? Flash Freeze the Ninth."

"Great-whatever!" Flash Freeze winced with a brief but pained smile on his face. "But yes... I was referring to him. Two-lives Ninth, as his servants were reported to call him."

"Two-lives?" Lyra cocked her head to the side. That was a pretty strange moniker, even for some noble willingly sticking in the middle of cold and unfriendly mountains. "What'd he do?"

"Not much. He was a typical noble of his age. He spent his days maintaining his fortress and his army. He played the political games with the other nobles... both with words and swords," Flash Freeze shrugged. He turned his attention to a stack of wood before continuing, throwing a badly cleaved log into the fireplace. "He was always described as being a little eccentric, even by his peers. You see, Canterlot was not a big thing in his time; but even back then, important decisions were always settled on big gatherings. Nothing makes or breaks grudges like barrels of wine, haha! But good old Ninth, he rarely attended those parties. He was kind of a recluse. Respect demands I believe it was of his volition; but I guess the truth was a little less fancy than him being a self-appointed hermit."

"He wasn't popular?" Lyra took a shot in the dark. "You just said he started wars! I can't imagine a warmonger being popular."

"Not nowadays, no. Back then, though? Rattling your sword was merely considered upping your tone a notch!" Flash Freeze laughed and settled next to the fireplace, facing Lyra. "No, Ninth had different issues. How can I put it eloquently... formalities regarding nobility were a lot stricter back then. And when customs dictate the farthest relative you can marry is your cousin... well, strange things are bound to happen."

"Oh! Well... ouch?" Lyra made a face. That concept was definitely something she didn't need a reminder of. "Enough about that, okay? How'd we even get to this? Weren't you talking about the amulet?"

"Oh, it does tie in... I just got a little side-tracked there. Ahem! So the good old Ninth was never the brightest mind around. If I were to take all his exploits into consideration... I might even say he was not quite right in the head," Flash Freeze admitted with a frown. "But one day he toppled everything else he has ever done. Nopony was really sure how it came to happen, but he and his escort got lost in a raging blizzard. All accounts say it was the storm of the century and nopony expected any of them to ever show up alive... but our dim-witted Ninth defied the nay-sayers for a final time. He banged on the château gates and asked if he could stay for a night. It was so incomprehensible that his subjects thought some higher power was involved. Truly, it was nothing short of a miracle. A miracle of his own making, most likely."

"Woah," Lyra whistled admiringly. She absolutely did not foresee that twist, that was for sure. Then she thought back to their original topic and quickly understood just how the story was relevant. "Ah! The amulet! He was wearing this amulet, right?"

"You are quite sharp, Miss!" Flash Freeze combined a theatrical bow with a borderline-goofy grin. "Yes, all accounts attribute his survival to that jewellery. From that day onward, it was no longer just a heirloom from the First; it was a blessed item our family safe-guarded. All but one of our family."

"Pfffft. There's always an idiot ruining the party!" Lyra rolled her eyes. "Who was the doof?"

Much to her surprise, FF didn't respond right away; he took his sweet time to inspect the fire, then turned back to her with a mischievous smile.

"The Ninth," the viscount giggled. "He reportedly wanted to get the amulet destroyed. And when the Tenth refused, he threw a fit and holed up the north tower. He actually spent the rest of his days in that tower, becoming a real hermit overnight. Did I mention he may have been a little crazy?"

Lyra realized why fireplaces are absolutely neat. Properly constructed, they don't release smoke into the room. They also provide warmth and light; and, in case of awkward conversations, they dull the edge of silence with the hissing and crackling of burning wood.

"Wha- what?!" she gawked, slowly accepting what she just heard. "He's the sole survivor of a disaster and his sole desire is to break the very stuff that saved his butt?!"

"You are not the only one flabbergasted. In fact, this very oddity drove the Tenth to break tradition and marry outside the family... to a musician from the château orchestra if my memory serves me right," Flash Freeze reminisced, rubbing his chin absent-mindedly. "It was speculated the Ninth simply broke down and went mad from the near-death experience. He refused to recognize anypony from that day onward, not even his own son; part of the reason he holed up in the tower was to never meet anypony claiming to know him. Make no mistake though, he was also quite very livid about the amulet to his very last day."

"Woahhhh. Talk about overreacting!" Lyra blurted out, smacking herself in the head a moment too late. Still; as she'd already spoken, she might as well have finished the thought. "I mean... he didn't really forget about everypony, right? He was just upset they didn't break his lucky-charm amulet."

"He had a really peculiar relationship with that trinket," Flash Freeze nodded, the move throwing his white mane into his eyes. "He may have resented it for saving him, somehow. He started claiming there was a demon sealed inside the crystal - a demon that followed him around after the blizzard."

"A demon!" Lyra recoiled and quickly brought the silver pendant and its blue gemstone into her view. "That's... not really what I expected..."

"How can you accept one part of supernatural but reject the other? Enchanted amulets are fine, but demons are not? Allow me to be the first to tell you: that is quite discriminatory!" Flash Freeze pushed on, greatly enjoying Lyra's shock. "Do not worry, Miss Lyra. There were never any demons, of course. Mad or not, the Ninth remained the viscount as long as he lived; so threats to his life were taken seriously. The northern tower was guarded day and night... and nopony ever saw a thing. The Ninth himself died peacefully, in his sleep; and for somepony of his eccentricity, he received a pretty usual funeral. Were it real, I can only surmise that his demon must have been the absurdly patient type."

"Quite weird stories you have," Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine as she tucked the amulet back under her blanket. "I don't quite get it, though. Why would a the old coot start ranting about demons? The way you mentioned it, it sounded like he didn't do that before he got stranded in a blizzard. I get he was crazy, but why did he get... er... crazier?"

Biting onto her lip, Lyra pondered if that wasn't really the right term to address one of the former viscounts. That kind of worry was a little too late at that point anyway, though.

"Oh, I was really just reciting one of the more captivating tales of that amulet! My apologies if I upset you," Flash Freeze apologized with a token bow. "As for your question... well, Miss, it is quite difficult to tell now! Though I imagine that barely clinging to one's life may do funny things to the mind. Even if we discount the effects of hypothermia. Talking of which... how are you feeling?"

"I can still feel my nose, if that's what you're getting at," Lyra groaned, the abrupt change in topic not really to her liking. "I'm not seeing any demons yet tho', so I guess I'm safe for the time being."

"That is quite a relief to hear," Flash Freeze made a smile. He looked more awkward than truly happy, though.

"Let's say I did hallucinate one of them though!" Lyra perked her ears up as a sudden thought crossed her mind. "Would I get a life-long pension in the château as well? A full tower just for me? Servants and everything?"

The viscount froze at the proposal; then he realized the joke for what it was and broke into a loud laughter. That took Lyra by surprise, in turn. It was a strangely soft reaction - and the first time she saw the noble act like that, actually. He was almost like an ordinary pony.

Ah-ha! So there IS a living pony behind that impeccable cover of an aloof gentlecolt... just so deep it's very hard to dig out.

"Hahah! Well, I am afraid things do not quite work like that any more!" Flash Freeze finally answered, wiping a tear away from his eye. "I mean, I am the owner of the Dancing Lights, so I could offer you permanent residence here... but locking yourself into a tower would make the Royal Guard think I have taken you prisoner. And while I understand there is no such thing as bad publicity, I am not sure if my portrayal as a foal-napper would bring my establishment into the right context..."

"Scaredy-cat," Lyra feigned a pout. She may have liked to give nobility a shot. Sure, Flash Freeze would take all chances to complain how his life wasn't just a huge strawberry cake with cherry on top... but he was always a noble who lived in his very own castle in the middle of his very own mountain range. That hardly compared to what most regular ponies dealt with.

Lyra could hardly see him worrying over the next utility bill, for example.

"We certainly did not hang onto this place by being rash," Flash Freeze ran a hoof down his white mane. "Though I suppose I could humour you, if that is your wish. Just sign a paper first."

"Soooo... you CAN lock me up in this fancy toy-box and smother me with luxuries?" Lyra contemplated aloud. She felt a little confused about the downsides of the deal - mostly because she couldn't see any.

"If you state you are fine with it."

"Papers. Always papers! You make it sound like the contracts I do with the Opera," Lyra groaned and pulled the blanket around her head. It didn't really protect her from the bad memories, but it did make her feel a little warmer.

"All right, that... that was not quite the institute I was hoping to cue you to," Flash Freeze smacked himself in the face.

A set of white teeth flashed from the cover of the blanket; Lyra was really enjoying the befuddled expression of the noble. She may have felt a little sorry for him as well... but she was mostly enjoying the scene, all in all.

You're no good at this talking stuff, she snickered to herself as she decided to help the poor bloke a little. Ugh... seriously dude! This roundabout-touching-matters-and-hoping-somepony-gets-it may have been cool ten generations ago, but we're waaay more direct nowadays.

"Hey, FF. Anypony ever tell you you're a little awkward in conversations?" she asked as she held back a giggle. That question was sharp enough already, no need to further augment it.

"No, I do not think so. Not this directly anyhow," Flash Freeze mumbled and glanced away, towards the door; he must have started looking for an exit strategy. Quite literally.

"Well I do," Lyra declared and raised her head from the blanket. "And Celestia as my witness, I'm going tomake you learn conversing properly!"

The offer got an unexpectedly positive reaction. The viscount - a pony whose life revolved around big social events - didn't take offence at the implications. In fact: he seemed to seriously consider, humming at length as he put his muzzle onto his hoof.

"Intriguing... I suppose the proverb was right and knowledge is a double-edged sword. I guess I might be applying the wrong etiquette," he finally declared, the corners of his lips twirling into a grin. "Very well! I may take you up on that offer, Miss Lyra."

"Superb!" Lyra clapped her hooves, then pointed one limb at the viscount. She also gave him a stern glare. "First lesson: it's just Lyra. I hate how you want me to call you FF but still insist on being formal yourself. Seriously... just ugh."

"Hate, huh..." Flash Freeze dropped his head low. "Strange nopony ever pointed that out to me. I never realized how rude that really could be. Sorry about-"

"Which brings us to lesson two!" Lyra slammed her hoof onto the wooden floor. "Stop being so damn polite about everything already! It sounds fancy, I get it! But it's really, REALLY ticking me off now."

The viscount kept his head even lower but also buried it into his hooves. Weird noises left his mouth, somewhere halfway between a groan and a laugh. A very nervous one.

"Oy-vey! I have let loose one of the more honest critics," he finally found his voice. "Well, I suppose the least I can do is try..."

"No! No! No-no-no-no-NO! Just tell me what you think! That it's a stupid idea! For Celestia's sake, stop tip-toeing around everything!" Lyra yelled and threw her hooves into the air, the move catapulting the blanket away from her. She quickly regretted that one: despite the hot fireplace, the air in the small shack remained pretty cold. "Don't be so afraid of being a little rough! There's a time and place for being smooth - but that's not always!"

"If that is what you believe..." Flash Freeze rubbed the side of his head.





"Please work," Lyra sighed and stomped onto her ski. The clamps worked properly this time, the polished bit of wood sticking to her hooves as if they were glued on. That problem done and over with, she glanced up and bit onto her lips. She didn't realize just how much time they spent in the shack; the sun seemed ready to set. It has shifted its colours from yellow to orange and was about to disappear behind the outline of some distant mountains.

It was still bright enough to have some more practice, though. As the shack was situated about mid-way up the hill, Lyra could get a pretty good view of the nearby slopes; and while the amount of ponies skiing - or just bumbling - down clearly decreased, there was still quite a few of them. Hardly enough to consider the place packed, but still enough to encourage her for some more practice. She did want to have something to show by when she returned to her room. Anything less would have been way too embarrassing. Bon was already on the "proper" slopes, after all.

A faint clinging got her attention. She only had to turn her head a little to see the viscount locking the shack's door, the bulky key-chain the source of the racket. Flash Freeze himself has been strangely silent for a while, and Lyra couldn't help but wonder if she was honest enough to somehow tick him off. Or wound his pride. Or both. She always found nobility hard to decipher; they would never say what they wanted or thought. They just assumed they could vaguely hint at things and everypony would understand them. Then enter she, the musician with all the diplomatic sense of a free-falling piano... and the results were uniformly not pretty.

There was a good reason why her recent performances were organized by professional managers.

Still, it would be really disheartening if she managed to get on the wrong side of FF. He was a really cool colt, despite being a noble himself. She didn't mean to be mean with him. She really wanted to help.

I should ask about that. These things are better not left to linger, she mused to herself as she watched Flash Freeze pack the keys back into his saddlebag. Yeah, I should do that. C'me on, you doof! You just lectured a viscount on speaking one's mind. Just take a deep breath and do what you always do. Yeah, I will just...

"How early do you close the slopes?" she blurted out. She may have outed the question with a smile, but she only had the urge to bash her head into something solid.

"Hm? Close? Oh, quite late. Only when visibility gets poor! Which is- HOLY CELESTIA, IS IT SUNSET ALREADY?!" Flash Freeze gawked with a panic-stricken expression. "That- that is- HOW?! It was barely past noon-!"

"Time flies when you're having fun," Lyra began to subtly falsify their shared memories. Just in case.

"I wonder if my guests will think the same as they wait for their dinners!" Flash Freeze shook his head and quickly stomped onto his grey skis. "Ah, I sure hope Heat Wave works fine without supervision... so late! Everything must be prepared already!"

The sight of the normally immaculate noble succumbing to panic made Lyra feel all sorts of guilty. It put her short-sighted lecture into an even worse light; not only did she bash the poor pony for stupid reasons, she also tore his delicate schedule apart.

"I'm... sorry," she muttered and turned away, her amber eyes fixed on her skis. She already checked them earlier, but they were a pretty good excuse to look away. "If I can help somehow..."

"Sure you can! Sit at the same table you did yesterday!" Flash Freeze yanked the glasses onto his eyes. "Oh - and try to be careful while I am away!"

He was barely done with the sentence when he was already speeding away, darting towards his château as if his own demons were chasing him. Lyra kept her eyes on his figure until she couldn't distinguish his grey winter-coat from the snow; then she chuckled to herself and relaxed. It couldn't be helped, but she failed to have much sympathy for the viscount's plight. She was simply too relieved over the miracle of how her tactless behaviour went unnoticed.

"Barely dodged that one!" she shook her head, her breath forming a tiny white cloud in front of her mouth. "I so wish I had an idea what I'm doing at times."

Relief and the leftovers of panic mixing in her mind, she dragged her skis into a right angle and pushed herself forward. She went to the practice slope to finally get all the basics of skiing sorted out, after all.





The turn became a little sharper than she intended. So sharp she almost turned all the way around; the only way she could salvage the move was to scrap it all together. She changed her posture and pulled her centre of mass back, moving against her would-be heading. She swayed around a bit - then disappeared in a thin cloud of snow, her skis scraping along the frozen surface. The air cleared moments later, revealing a panting but otherwise completely fine Lyra Heartstrings.

"Th... that move was... awe... AWESOME!" she cackled, feeling absolutely satisfied with her performance despite how she planned for something completely different. "I'm... I'm like a pro! Gahahah!"

The more responsible part of her brain immediately told her no you are not, but she had learnt to ignore that voice long ago. She just grabbed her glasses and yanked them upward until they bumped into her horn. The cold air began assaulting her eyes right away, but she enjoyed seeing the world crystal-clear. No matter how comfortable those glasses tried to be, they alwaysfound a way to fog up. It's not like she needed the extra protection any longer. The sun was setting in earnest, the white slope trading the blinding white for faint orange colours.

A stupidly beautiful sight - and also one that reminded her how she should have started heading home already. Staying out for the night wasn't a grand idea for somepony as unskilled as she was, fancy-shmancy amulet or not. That and FF was kind of expecting to meet her at dinner again.

"I wonder if he's gonna' eavesdrop on my order again," Lyra chuckled dryly to herself. "There's an easy way to test that tho'. What would he really not like, hmm... how about jalapenos? Think I saw them on the menu. Surely Mister Freeze wouldn't like breathing fire, hahaha!"

The image of the always-so-reserved viscount breathing flames and then dumping his head into a water bucket almost made her kneel over with laughter. She wouldn't admit even to herself, but the issue was settled there and then. There was no way she would pass up on the chance of such a splendid entertainment. Bon would probably object, but she already learnt how to handle that hurdle properly. She got pretty good at nodding and smiling while thoroughly ignoring naysayers.

Maybe she could make the joke even more practical and somehow make Bon and the viscount share again. The idea deepened the smug grin on her face, being as evilicous as she could possibly imagine. Not even shaking her head could get rid of the toothy grin. It contributed only in a roundabout way. He sight wandering around, she managed to catch a glimpse of a pony in the distance. Whoever he was, he crossed the lanes in the same fashion she did earlier.

Pfff. Another amateur! Lyra dialled her grin back to a smirk. And here I was, wondering if I'm the worst student to have come here yet.

She was only concerned by how there was nopony to stop that skier. Flash Freeze himself left a while ago, and none of his employees were around either. It was only Lyra on the nearby slopes and that strange guest. He was also heading towards the very forest FF wanted to keep her out of... undaunted as there was nopony around who could stop him.

This could be bad, Lyra concluded with a gulp. There must have been a reason FF wanted her out of that forest, even beyond his fear of what tree trunks do to ponies skiing way faster than they should.

It was such an annoying thought. She wanted to do something. She was absolutely sure on that. But what could she do?

Turning her head, she paid the sun a glance. The deep-red disc was already pierced by a taller ridge; maybe a good fifteen minutes until it would disappear from the sky for good. Then she took a look at the Dancing Lights Lodge. The château was lively all right; the lights shining from its numerous windows left no doubt that most guests and workers had already made it back. Lyra toyed with the idea of going back there and asking for somepony to help out; there were many dozens qualified to do so. That trip took her almost half an hour in the morning, however... and she was also a lot fresher before the long practice session.

It would be by night when any help could arrive. Finding a pony in a snowy forest without much light... that didn't sound promising.

Biting onto her lip as she pushed herself into a slide, Lyra took the only realistic option she could think of.

Well, I always wanted to play the hero at least once anyway...





The forest was huge. It looked large even from the slope, but Lyra could only truly appreciate its size when she was made to make her way around it. She went on for a good while, moving parallel to the outermost row of trees. She must have covered a nice distance; glancing back, she could no longer see the château behind her. That was a worrisome discovery, but she felt pretty sure she could find her way back. She found that she could navigate by the trail of the other pony's skis; and nothing prevented her from finding her way back using the very same tracks. Nothing short of a major blizzard or anything else that would conceal them, of course.

She was very much hoping she would be spared of such bad luck.

I do have this fancy amulet with me, she gulped as the thought crossed her mind for the umpteenth time. I sure hope it helps commoners the same well as blue-bloods... 

She wasn't planning on doing anything overly fancy anyway. She would just catch up to that careless pony and drag him out of there. Well, maybe not so much as 'drag' as 'ask nicely to follow', considering her skills with the ski... but looking at the end result of two ponies spending the night in heated rooms instead of one in the cold forest, it was about the same thing.

Such idle musings came to an end when she saw the other figure standing in front of her, her brain switching to the immediate task at hoof.

"Hey! You!" she yelled, still barrelling down at the other pony. She started to break as well, aware of how coming to a full stop would take her some time.

The colt - dressed in bright red robes - didn't immediately pay her much attention. He seemed more busy pushing long flagpoles into the snow, murmuring to himself after each new flag placed. Skidding sideways as she bled her speed out, Lyra could swear he was building a golf-course on the snow. Which would have been a pretty insane thing to do - but having lived in Equestria for all her life, she had seen stranger things already. Sometimes on a daily basis.

"Oiiii! Equestria to weird pony! Hey weirdo, are you even listening?!" she gave loud communication another shot. She was still moving sideways; wobbling a little but a lot slower overall. That was half-way to stopping: a great success! Her repeated attempt at yelling achieved its goal as well, so she felt pretty proud all in all.

The red-robed pony perked his head up. He turned around as fast as if something bit into his rear, the red hood almost falling off his head.

"Halt!" he barked. If - and that was a pretty big if - he was shocked, then he could hide such emotions pretty well. "Stop right there! What are you doing here?" 

It was at this point Lyra finally came to a full stop. Panting and sweating under the green robes she wore, she gave the weird pony an incredulous glare.

"Am... I am the one askin' that!" she dished out and gulped down some cold air. Contrary to her expectations, that didn't cool her down any bit; she only felt her throat becoming sore. "FF... I mean, the viscount... he doesn't like visitors here...!"

"Yeah, no kidding! You absolutely shouldn't be here! Do you even know how dangerous this place is?!"

Still taking larger than usual breaths, Lyra just shook her head. Just as good as saying 'no', except not requiring any talking whatsoever.

"Figures. That air-headed noble probably forgot that I ordered him to cordon this place off!" the red-robed pony huffed. "Missy, this whole place is unstable! I'm not sure how it went unnoticed so far, but I think there's some ravine beneath the snow here. So just turn around and get out of here, all right?"

"Not without you," Lyra stuck to her self-appointed mission.

"Says who?! Unlike you, I'm a pro! I happen to know what I'm doing!" the red-robed stallion snorted, becoming audibly annoyed at his unexpected visitor. "You read the agreement you signed when you came here, right? Then know that if you don't leave now, I can report this incident to the Guard and have you escorted away as soon as tomorrow! I don't care if the lot of you ignore whatever I say or fool around on the safe slopes. But this spot - this isn't some playground for foals! Scram!"

For all Lyra know, everything that pony said was true. She had one major roadblock in processing all that information: she just couldn't care for the way he said it. 

"Look here, you oh-so-important doof!" she snarled and paced forward. Taking steps with the skis were difficult; she had to balance carefully, as each move required her to lift both legs on the same side and move them in unison. That feat sort of came to her naturally when she was so livid, though. "I don't care who you are either! But if I need to leave because this place is so dangerous, then you shouldn't stay here either, right?! I followed you all the way here just to drag you back, and I'm sure not leaving alone-"

"Hush!" the red-robed stallion barked and held his head lower, his ears perked up and rotating around. "This noise... I wonder..."

"Okay, enough games now!" Lyra's patience ran dry. "Why was FF freaked out by me coming towards the forest? Why is this place dangerous?!"

She got her answer from a different source than she expected. She felt something running across the snow, just a little beneath her hooves; a vibration, strong enough to clatter her teeth against each other. Her instinct immediately commanded her to back out and disappear that instant, but she had no chance to follow up on that thought. Even in the dim light of early night, she could see as the snow in front of her started to disappear into a black void. It was a mesmerizing sight, the white material giving away to darkness.

Only the phenomenon grew in size a lot faster than she could react.

She could see the threat and could even understand how it was bad news; but her legs wouldn't move. Not in such a short time-frame. She was left there, watching as the very ground from beneath her hooves disappeared... and then she was falling. She couldn't see much, but from the sickening sensation of her stomach turning, she was sure: she was in a free-fall.

Uh-oh!

She tried to yank her head around, see where she could escape; but her movements still felt utterly sluggish. She wanted to move quickly - only she couldn't seem to do so.

"Master! Watch out, Master! This is dangerous...!"

Lyra had no idea where that cry came from. The voice was unlike anything she heard before. Despite the mortal danger, she found the time to find that rather strange. She couldn't recall anypony other than her and that red-robed prick being there... so who was talking to her, all of a sudden? In the middle of a terrifying free-fall, no less.

She landed before she could figure out any more. The impact knocked her unconscious right away; a yank, a crack... followed by silence and darkness.
> 5 - Release
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

For some odd reason, Lyra didn't feel too cold any more.

She really thought that a snow-filled ravine would almost be like a freezer. Apparently not so; she wasn't shivering or anything alike. A little chilly for sure; but mostly numb, in the end. Uncomfortably so.

She never felt anything even remotely close that before, in fact.

It was a numbness that crept beyond the physical fatigue and disrupted her mind as well. She hadn't had a coherent thought ever since she woke up; she was only staring into the dimly lit cavern, her eyes glassy and vacant.

She was alive, but barely so. Even pondering on her situation was beyond her capabilities.

"Master!"

She may have been unable to think consciously, but Lyra's instincts were still very much intact. She zeroed in on the voice, her ears jumping up and moving on their own volition. It was odd though; she heard the brief cry - and then nothing more. No hoofsteps, no claps, nothing. Only the whistling of a distant wind.

"MASTER!"

It was that yell again. It came from the same source - Lyra was sure of that. Only louder. Clearer.

Closer.

But there were no hoofsteps. No... there was nothing. I didn't hear anything. This thing is... it's walking so silently...

No matter how she tried to think about it, Lyra kept getting stuck on that oddity. Whatever approached her did so without making any noise, and her subconscious was certain that only a predator would move like that. Which was, frankly, quite the disconcerting idea to have. 

If only she could actually see something! If only that stubborn darkness was lifted from her. She tried to blink, hoping she just forgot to open her eyes somehow; but nothing changed. It was just like when she came home too late and had to find the way to her bed without any lights whatsoever. Of course, blindly bumping into furniture was a lot less stressing than waiting for something nasty to take a bite out of her.

"Shhh... shhhtay... away...!"

Huh. Was that really me talking?

The voice sounded hoarse and weak, like a bag-pipe that was running real short on air. The dichotomy between the expected voice - the one she was used to - and what actually hit ears was so huge that Lyra almost doubted if she was the one uttering those words.

It was really her, though.

How quaint.

She couldn't imagine which part of her would need to be hit to strip her of her voice. The neck? Or perhaps the face? She wasn't sure. It didn't matter in the end; no predator stalking her would care for her protests anyway, no matter how sweet or unrefined her voice was.

She needed more practical ways to protest. Such as fighting back! Or running away. Besting some monster would have been real cool; but she was more in the favour of living to see another day. She would only need to stumble out of danger and then find her way back to the forest. It wouldn't be hard to trace her way back from there. She could be back in the château in no time at all.

Assuming there was anything left of the forest, that is. That hole which swallowed her grew awfully fast.

I also need my skis, Lyra cringed as she prepared herself. Can't walk on that snow barehooved.

Clenching her teeth as a means to shield herself from the disappointment, she had to admit: finding those red pieces of wood would be difficult without seeing anything. That she would need to find her way blindly out of the cave didn’t readily occur to her, and that she would need to avoid a beast while she was searching - all without sight and without hearing where her foe was lurking. Her impaired mind only allowed for so much consideration.

Perhaps it was for the best. With only the skis on her mind, the problem didn't seem insurmountable. She would just need to stand up and get moving; she would bump into them sooner or later. Simple enough. She took a deep breath and pushed with her legs...

...and nothing happened. Her right hoof was stuck, refusing to budge whatsoever; but the left one only wiggled in the empty air. She kept struggling until she had a rough idea of her position. Contrary to her expectations, she wasn't lying on the ground; she was hanging somehow, her torso almost completely upright.

Heh! How odd. I thought only pegasi could float. No matter... maybe the hind ones can reach the ground.

It was a little difficult, finding something solid with her legs. With the numbness all over her body, she could barely feel anything; she wound up doing random small kicks, waiting for an impact to register with her. She managed to do so on the fifth try. There wasn't much feedback even on that one, but her hooves made a loud clap on contact. That noise actually clued her in more than her own body; she only felt some really dull push. The whole experience reminded her of the time she was at the dentist and got a wrong dose of tranquillizer.

Tranquillizer... ugh. I hope this monster isn't trying to remove another of my teeth.

She had no idea where that thought came from, but she was not enjoying it too much.

"Ugh. Ah kin'a... need mah... teeef!"

Courtesy of her tongue not moving the way it used to, her words became a little mangled. No matter; she wasn't staying for a chat anyway. She was only getting herself free and finding her ski; that was all that was on her agenda. All she had to do was to align her rear legs against the supposed ground and buck.

"Aa- ah! Master, wait! Don't move! Still! Stay still!"

Curled up on the ground, Lyra wished the monster said that a little sooner.

Her kick connected and lifted her upward. Whatever was keeping her in the air let go of her; but gravity took her leash right back up afterwards. She dropped onto the ground with a thud. That wasn't too bad; but the impact did something real nasty to her. Her entire right side went ice-cold and she found breathing really difficult all of a sudden. Anything larger than a shallow rasp sent jolts down her spine, making her curl up even tighter. She got the mental image of a Lyra-sized ball at some point; it made her smile, no small feat with her torn side and pained breathing.

"Oohhh... Master looks a little, uh... bad. There's a nasty puncture there."

You're quite chatty for a monster who moves in complete silence, Lyra mused. Strictly to herself though; she didn't want to divulge her innermost thoughts to the creature. Not like she had any air to speak with either. It would have been nice if she could breath normally. She could have asked this monster if it had seen her skis.

Who knows, maybe it would answer. It was so chatty, after all.

"Puncture wounds... it's, uh, that was, uh... let's see, I think the head priest used to wrap ponies up," the monster monologued to itself. "Knew I should have paid him more attention instead of just Master! I... I'll need to improvise I guess. What could I do... find something, maybe? Where's some cloth when you need some! I, uh - oh for everything's sake! What am I even doing?! It's not like I can use bandage!"

Lyra had to sourly admit: the creature standing next to her didn't seem to be too fazed by her struggling whatsoever. She was ignored to the point where it began to bother her.

I was scared witless of you! Just moments ago! The least you could do is threaten me or something! she fumed to herself. I'm a perfectly healthy pony, you insensitive cod! I'm worthy of your attention! Heck, I'd be worthy enough to be your dinner!

The last thought of that queue returned her attention to a more pressing matter she somehow forgot about.

Please don't make a dinner out of me.

"Stop fretting. A calm and cool head. Yes, a calm and cool head. That's needed right now," the creature told someone. Either itself, Lyra or both of them at the same time. Truth be told, they both could have used more serene thoughts. "So! This is a puncture wound. It goes deep... Master isn't going to last long with this. And, uh... neither with this cold. Warm-bloods are suspect to hypothermia, right? That's why the are called warm-bloods. They don't work if their blood is cold. But this wound is the worse problem. I think. So how do I stop this... oh! I know. All I need to do is just-"

Wound? Lyra perked an ear at the word. I got a wound? Where?

She remembered what wounds are like. They sting, they burn; they hurt. Disproportionately so. That's why the monster's musing took her by surprise. She felt more cold, numb and tired than anything else. There was no way she could have been wounded. The issue really bothered her; she even tried to voice her disagreement, but only a pitiful whine left her mouth.

Unopposed, the creature began its work in earnest. It didn't really say just what it was doing though, so Lyra had no idea what was happening. There was a jab in her side and another wave of cold rushed over her. She could hear her own breath hastening at the experience... then the solid ground disappeared from beneath her. Again.

I so hate today.





"Yo."

Lyra's most immediate reaction to that greeting was how casual it sounded. Especially considering how she was kind of plummeting to her death, for the second time in ten minutes.

Then again, she didn't feel overly alarmed by the fact either. She felt pretty 'meh' about the ordeal, actually. 

Practice makes perfect, doesn't it.

She snickered when she realized how she took this better than the awkward concert in the Palace Garden. That mishap made her so anxious and upset that she was constantly yelling and crying for two days straight. It made a whole deal of sense too, once she thought about it. If that weird creature was correct and she was really dying, then she really had no reason to be upset. Might as well spend her final moments in comfort.

Then she remembered the greeting she failed to reply to so far.

"Yo!" she tried to sound the same nonchalant. It didn't fully work out that way. She was still in a free-fall, the air current tearing into her coat, mane and tail; but the rushing air also made her speech difficult, the wind flapping her lips and turning her voice pretty funny. That in turn led her to another realisation, and she started to grin like an idiot.

This is one heck of a drop!

She has been falling for quite a while already. No matter how her landing turned out, she would be little more than pony-salsa. That rendered her other worries - monsters, hypothermia, odd wounds she didn't quite feel, concert contracts and whatever else - quite irrelevant. It was a liberating thought. She would have hated to freeze to death. A splat was a lot faster and completely painless. 

Wouldn't like to be the poor chap cleaning up afterwards though.

"So what's ya' up to?"

"Oh, nothing much!" Lyra cackled, scanning the empty air beneath her. She still couldn't see the ground; only swirling, crystal-blue clouds. "Just, you know, falling to my death."

What a strange cave I found. So deep! I wonder if FF will name it after me.

"Funny hobby, that. Ever considered a parachute? Should do wonders to your insurance premiums."

"Parachute! Parachute..." Lyra repeated absent-mindedly, trying to find whatever object that word related to. She came up empty. "Nope! I have no idea what you're talking about... er..."

Alarmed by a superficial detail she has glossed over so far, she yanked her head up and took a quick glance around. That voice - that voice was interesting. She knew that voice from somewhere. She couldn't quite put a hoof on it though... but that didn't matter. Whether she knew the voice or not, she was actually conversing with somepony in the middle of a lethal fall. So just when did she get a drop-mate? 

"Ahaha, so you're finally coming to your senses... and you're still not panicking. Not outwardly anyway... heh! Behind you, by the way."

Lyra's ears managed to zero in on the voice just as the hint came. She strained her neck and glanced backward as instructed; and she indeed spotted a green figure among the swirling clouds. It was another pony, one without wings just as Lyra herself. There was little else to see though. The strange visitor wore a bright green robe that hid its entire body, even its head being covered by a large hood. Only the very end of its muzzle peeked out into the open, the nose hinting at a purplish coat.

"I never saw you before," Lyra mumbled the first thing that came to her mind.

"The feeling's mutual," the hooded pony made a nod. "We're here to change that, though."

Lyra tried to turn around proper and face the strange acquaintance. She was in the middle of a drop through thin air though, and she found even basic movements to be difficult. Her hooves not touching anything solid meant no traction, and no traction meant little control over her bearing. She tried real hard anyway. If only she could look as cool as that other pony! That weirdo sure made it look easy. It was just hanging out there, perfectly calm and... motionless...?

Not even the clothes are flapping, Lyra realized as she took a better look. Her own mane and tail were almost torn off by the wind; going by that, the robe should have parted from that pony almost immediately. So how come it didn't?

"How do you remain so still? Even your robe!" Lyra shot the question at the stranger. She didn't expect much of a reply, but satisfying her curiosity was worth a try. "Is it lined with lead or something?"

The muzzle peeking out from the hood revealed a sly grin.

"Of course not! I only wear lead-laden clothes when I'm near the Zone. This is regular clothing. Whatever passes for 'regular' in this dream-scape, that is."

"Dreamscape... haha, dreamscape what?" Lyra balked semi-jokingly. As far as she was concerned, that was a completely baffling and meaningless bit of information. "You mean this is all a dream or something?"

"Quite the cliche, isn't it? Well, it is the truth anyhow. This is just a dream of your own making. Or nightmare, rather."

"My own...? Ha... hahaha. AHAHAH!" Lyra hollered. She finally managed to turn around - by making a back flip. She was now facing the hooded stranger, even if upside-down. "Seriously! Why would I dream of plummeting to my death?"

"Beats me. I'm not your psychiatrist! Though it may have to do with the cave-in you wandered into. That's one fresh trauma."

That was almost a sound argument. Lyra remained unconvinced all the same; she could distinguish dreams from reality. The air pushing against her coat, the way her mane was trying to rip away from her neck, that nauseating feeling of weightlessness... all of that felt pretty real to her.

"You're just making that up," she concluded as she folded her hooves in front of her.

"I can prove otherwise," the stranger remained unmoved by the rejection. "If you allow me to, of course."

"Ha! Sure - go ahead and try!" Lyra cackled, absolutely certain the stranger was only blowing hot air. That conviction only served to make her confusion supreme once the clouds disappeared, revealing a wooden floor underneath. Still being upside-down, she couldn't even cushion the landing with her legs; all she could do was clench her teeth and snap her eyes closed. Her sole consolation was that she would hit the ground with her back first.

No need to worry about anything after that.

She took a trembling breath and hit the ground before she could blew it out.

Then she rolled around and scampered back to her hooves, completely unhurt.

"Oookay," she muttered. She took her time to take a good look at herself. She even inspected the floor where she landed; but she was fine and the floor was impeccably clean. Not even the lacquer was scratched. "This is... kinda freaky..."

"You thought you were doomed... but hoped you'd pull through anyway, didn't you? As I said: this is nothing but a dream. And dreams twist the way we want," the hooded stranger landed surprisingly gently, hooves touching the wood without any sound. "This is also what betrayed your turmoil, by the way. You may have that cool and calm act going... but your dream is nothing but a non-stop calamity. Shaken up, aren't you? Pulse still racing with your blood pressure and all that?"

Lyra gave the stranger a slow nod. Now that she had firm ground under her hooves and still was all right, she definitely felt a lot different. The absolute calmness was a thing of the past; she felt more natural. Revitalized. A little confused, too. The little explanation she got did explain a few things, but there was no way she could fully submit to such a ridiculous theory. 

"Yeah, I... I was a little scared I guess," she mumbled under her nose. It felt like an embarrassing admission and she didn't want to look at the one who forced it out of her, so she glanced downwards, at the lacquered planks of wood. "I'm not really into flying..."

Of course I'm not. How would I?! she huffed inside her head, her face stiffening as she struggled to keep her tirade from leaving her mouth. I don't even have wings! Air is hardly my natural element.

"Understandable," the hooded stranger nodded. "Even so, I do not want to discuss business with an agitated pony. See, I never deal with parties under duress. I tried; but it never got me anywhere good. So let's sit back and... enjoy whatever you enjoy."

Other than shaking her head in disbelief, Lyra didn't answer to that one. Her thoughts were only occupied by how her dream proceeded to get even more outlandish. Enjoy herself? How could she? If this was really nothing but a dream, then she was still out in a ditch, freezing to death.

On the other hoof, comforting herself with surviving an impossibly long drop and then having a stranger placate her... that sounded suspiciously like some troubled pony's delirium.

"Am I... dying?" Lyra glanced up. It was a hard question, and she was uncertain if she could accept the answer, no matter how it sounded. "Right now, I mean."

"Hah... no. I am no Charon if that's what you're thinking," the hooded pony snickered, full of sarcasm. The hood may have covered its face, but did nothing about its tone. "You can save the ferrypony's coin for later - you're on this side of the Styx for now. You're cold and got a girder ran through the side, but you're alive. It will be a difficult way back home, but you'll get your chance to limp back in one piece. That I promise."

"Uh-hum," Lyra scratched her head. While being reassured of her survival was nice, she had no idea if those words were for real or just what she wanted to hear. Fricken' dreamspace. "So then... who are you? Since this is my dream and all that-"

"-I should be somepony you know, right? A reflection. A memory," the hooded figure cut her off. "Not the case, I'm afraid. I'm just a, how shall I put it, tenant in your head."

"Tenant!" Lyra snorted. Weirder and weirder that dream got. "What does that even mean? How did you get inside my head?"

"That's a funny story. Also one that you don't have the privilege to know," the hooded figure shook its head, the move rocking the green hood left and right. "I can only tell you the purpose of my visit: a mere formality, really. I am here to finalize the contract between us."

Wrinkles appeared above Lyra's eyebrows and her head tilted to the side. It was a truly natural movement, caused by all the gears in her head seizing up.

"Eehhh?!"

In all her years, none of her dreams were centred on legalities. None that she could remember, anyway.

"It's a rough start, I know. But that's how it tends to go, for one reason or the other," the hooded pony mused as it pulled a thick-looking parchment from beneath its robe. "I rarely meet anypony who is just sitting quietly at home and happen to wander over my creations. Power begets conflict, I suppose... or conflicts birth a desire for power. Doesn't matter to me, really. Just sign your name here."

Surrounded by a magenta aura, the paper scroll unfurled and floated mid-air. It made its way to Lyra, whose first reaction was a deep frown. That contract was easily longer than the morning newspapers, written in letters smaller than she could make out. Only the blank line waiting for her signature was adequately sized. It smelled fishy, even for a bad dream.

"Who are you?" she nudged the paper aside with a hoof. "Don't you dare say 'tenant' again."

"Does it matter who I am?" the hooded pony balked at the question. "I could be anypony. All you need me for is my power. Or, rather, my creations' power. And you will receive as much... as soon as you sign the contract."

"I have no idea who you are, but I've seen plenty of plays where contracts were a bad, BAAAD idea! Not to mention that I've signed a lot of real contracts as well," Lyra motioned at the floating paper with a dry chuckle. "I may not speak legalese just yet, but I know they are never binding if the two parties are not clearly identified. So let's start with that! I'm Lyra Heartstrings. You are...?"

"As if my name meant you anything," the hooded pony snorted. "Whatever! Call me the Source... just because you really insist."

"The Source?" Lyra raised one of her eyebrows, a sly grin creeping onto her face. "Totally not flaunting there, are you?"

"This whole experiment here is my creation. Including the 'demon' stuffed into the amulet you wear," the hooded pony raised a hoof and pointed it at Lyra. "You can call me out on my boast when you can match my genius. Until then, the mask I wear is the Source; and you will accept that as my answer."

"Why would I?" Lyra grinned inanely - right until the hooded pony wiped it off her face with the most simple reasoning possible.

"Because you have no other choice."

That was a pretty solid answer, all in all. Quite despotic, too. It made Lyra wonder if she could tear the parchment in half, just out of spite; but the things she heard made her a little hesitant.

"You call yourself all-powerful... yet you only ask. I could refuse you," she put her thoughts into words instead, pulling the floating parchment back in front of her. "What would happen I refused you? Would you force me? Punish me?"

"I believe in carrots, not sticks," the hooded pony shook her head. "Refuse and I will give you nothing, that is all. Of course, such a course would leave you stranded at the bottom of a snowy pit, all alone and without any help. Hardly ideal, is it? I didn't expect that you would contest my offer so much, to be honest. Others jumped at the first word, even without knowing what the package entailed. Still - it is your choice. So, what will it be, Lyra Heartstrings?"

No matter how she peeled her eyes, the letters in front of Lyra kept turning into a messy pool of black ink. The writing was too small and the lines were grouped way too tightly. It didn't matter much, in the end. She was more interested in the possibility of saving her own skin than some contract that only existed in her dream.

"Suppose I signed it. What help would I get? What is this creature you were talking about?" she moved her head around, her neck popping a few times. She felt incredibly uncomfortable - then a wayward thought only amplified that uneasiness. "Waaaait a second. The creature in the amulet - did you say it was a demon? Are you talking of the thing that haunted FF's grandpa? The old guy with some number?"

"He called himself the ninth descendant of his family," the hooded pony corrected Lyra, who looked away in shame. She heard the story from the viscount a few hours ago, and this dream-pony already bested her in remembering. "You'd get the same servant he did, yes. Though I hope you would turn out to be a better subject than he did. I saved him from a blizzard only to watch him grow old in seclusion. Talk about wasted potential!"

Servant, Lyra savoured the word. That didn't sound all too bad. Certainly not bad enough to lock herself into a room 'till the end of her days. Maybe that ninth misunderstood something? Or he was just a superstitious idiot, like ponies of that age were. At least that's what she picked up from the history lessons... and the odd magazine.

Heck, she would make a statue to that servant if it was real and indeed saved her. Maybe even FF would chime in! It would certainly be his big day as well, his amulet turning out to be not only magical but outright life-saving.

All those just a signature away from her.

Then again, this could be just something I'm dreaming up while freezing to death, she reminded herself. Though then I'm signing a contract with a pony from my dream. She could hardly sue me. Fat chance even if she tried, against my dream-court!

A toothy grin on her face, Lyra turned to the hooded stranger.

"Fine," she declared. "Got ink and quill?"

Even with the hood covering its face, the request took the other pony by visible surprise.

"What?" Lyra blinked at the reaction. "What did you think I would write my name with? Blood?"

"You play music for theatres day and night. You practically live for that purpose. You even dreamt a concert-hall for this meeting!" the hooded pony balked and clopped its hoof on the lacquered wooden floor. "Yes, I thought you would do just that! I would have bet my head that you would find blood-signed contracts dramatically appropriate."

"Dramatically appropriate, painful and unsanitary," Lyra frowned, the whole idea making her nauseous. "Seriously, how would I know if you throw away the quills after each and every contract? I sure don't want an infection!"

"I doubt you can transmit diseases through dreams," the hooded pony groaned as it paced towards Lyra, finally pushing a sleek black object into her face. "Here, use my pen. Killjoy."

"I'm sorry my craziness doesn't live up to your standards," Lyra yanked the pen with a sneer, then scrawled her name onto the paper. "There you go. Do I get my pet now?"

"Of course," the hooded pony rolled the parchment up and tucked it back under its robe. "One more bit of advice before I send you back, though. For the sake of authenticity, this experiment is done with only one rule: only those in contract with me can see my creations. Nothing else. Everything goes."

"That... kinda sounds like a threat," Lyra gulped nervously. "Wait, those in contract with you?"

"I do not partake in the experiment, so I needn't threaten you. I just gave you a warning - the same I gave to everypony else," the hooded pony stated with a completely factual voice. "Also, your assumption is correct. You are not the only one with such a servant, though the others will have different shapes and abilities than yours. Not more nor less powerful; just different. I didn't shortchange any of you."

"Ah-kaaay..." Lyra felt a knot swelling in her throat. "That's... interesting. What's the point of your experiment anyway? What are these servants for?"

"That's none of your business," the hooded figure barked. It rose a hoof - the move shifting its robe and revealing a leg with definite purple colour - and pushed it against a dumbstruck Lyra's nose. "Our deal here is over. Good luck out there, Lyra Heartstrings. You're an interesting candidate - so I hope to see some results from you."

A loud crack sounded from above. Her instincts stronger than her curiosity, Lyra broke her eyes off the hooded stranger and looked up.

She gasped when she saw the wooden ceiling give away above her.

Cracks appeared in the mighty crossbeams, the thinner boards outright giving away to the external pressure. Snow poured in, the speed and power of the burst making it look as if the chilly material exploded into the air. Her amber eyes wide, Lyra's most immediate thought was how majestic the sight looked; then the white tidal wave rushed over her, covering her and dragging her along.





The natural reaction to being under water is to hold one's breath. That idea works right until the head starts to ache, dots begin to dance in the vision, and the lung begins to burn. Then comes the point where one needs to take a breath, everything else be damned.

Her eyes shut closed and her whole self shivering with cold, Lyra decided she had just reached that very spot. She opened her mouth, fearful that she would only gulp in some dirty snow... but was relieved once air entered her throat. Cold, chilly, freezing air that made her innards twist; but breathable air nonetheless. She followed the brave gasp with a few rapid ones, restocking her blood with fresh oxygen. 

One problem dealt with, only a few thousand left.

Like why she was hurting so much. Her eyes still shut, she could only feel her entire right side ache; it was as if she was sitting too close to a fire, every nerve near her front right leg flaring with pain no matter what she did. She could have sworn she was lying completely still, and the pain still went and came unabated. Her other side was better off - she only felt some dull sensation there. She knew that one already. It was the sign for having been out in the cold for too long, to the point where even her insulated coat would fail to keep her warm.

Right. I'm out in the cold, but not buried in snow, she quickly summarized her situation. She run her tongue down her lips; but the normally smooth skin felt really rough and raspy. Ugh. I wouldn't dream of something like this... guess I woke up.

It was one of her worse wake-ups, to be honest. Still, enduring a few broken bones and some hallucinations after a long drop wasn't such a bad deal. She would need some medical help though; the sooner the better. Closing her mouth and clenching her teeth in preparation, Lyra knew that meant getting up and going back to the Dancing Lights.

Right... time to get up. Upsie-daisy.

She was lying on her left side, a position she couldn't get up from; so he gathered all her strength and tried to straighten herself. The attempt didn't go overly well though. She could roll back onto her belly just fine; but the moment she tried to push with her right leg, a searing pain cracked through her whole being. She didn't break into a howl or anything; she could only clench her teeth, hiss and then take a few louder gasps.

Think I broke something, she concluded. She finally cracked her eyes open and turned to her right, ready to inspect the damage. Much to her surprise, someone else was already at the task - a translucent blue pony with crimson eyes that seemed to glow in the dim cave.

What the-!

The creature didn't seem to notice being gawked at. She was humming to herself as she took a close look at Lyra's side; only when she broke focus and looked at Lyra's head did she realize the pony was staring at her.

"Master is sensate!" the blue creature yelled with completely unwarranted cheerfulness. "The operation was a success!"

"O...peration...?" Lyra struggled with talk, giving up after one word. Her head felt really heavy as well, so she tried to keep her investigation short. Ignoring the strange thing on her right, she moved her focus to her leg. What she saw didn't look pretty. Her expensive jacket had a long tear in it, the green fabric dyed almost black by something. Most likely blood and most likely hers.

No wonder I can't stand up, she recoiled, her shivers redoubling at the sight. Not with that.

"I had to seal Master's wound," the blue creature explained as it saw Lyra's reaction. "So I... froze the blood there. It's not the best solution, but Master's not bleeding any more, so it's all good! Master should get some proper bandages, though. As soon as possible. And a medic as well. Preferably a good one."

All sound and good ideas, as far as Lyra could consider. There was only one huge issue with them: that she couldn't move to go and get them. Even worse, she came after that stupid pony all on her own, so it was real likely that her disappearance wouldn't be noted for a good while. Bon would surely realize something's amiss when once she failed to show up for dinner; but that may have been a good few hours away. The sun was barely setting when she fell in there, and Celestia knows how long she was out cold.

Cold...

"You... froze the... wound?" Lyra paid the blue creature a disbelieving stare.

"I had no idea if it would clot quick enough," the creature fiddled with her transparent hooves. "Did I do something wrong?"

Lyra really had no idea of that. Not bleeding to death was always a plus; but she never ever heard anypony just freezing a wound to achieve that. In fact, she couldn't even imagine how somepony would go about to freeze wounds. Not even the snow or regular ice were cold enough for that. She shook her head with a pained, sarcastic grin; an odd thought crossed her mind. It's like that blue thing was a ghost and had supernatural powers!

Then she remembered her dream-contract and stopped smiling.

"Are... are you... a servant?" she forced herself to speak, no matter how much it hurt. Her tongue would barely move and she had difficulties in breathing enough air to talk with; but she had to know the answer to that one. "Of the... that hooded... bastard. The Source..."

"I am!" the blue creature nodded with much enthusiasm, her crimson eyes flashing with vigour. "I was sleeping in that amulet for quite a while! And when I sensed Master was in danger again, I came back to Master's aid! Just like always."

Munching on the air as if she was chewing on the words, Lyra rested her gaze on the creature; then she sighed and dropped her head back onto the cold, snowy ground.

"How'd he... mistake you... for a demon..." she sighed. There was hardly anything threatening about the translucent blue figure. She was helpful - and even a little ditzy.

"I don't know. I must have done something wrong," the creature put a hoof to her muzzle, crimson eyes pointing at the sky above them. "All I recall is Master calling me some, quote-unquote, Celestia-forsaken windigo demon... and then he never spoke to me again. He didn't stop me from keeping him warm, though."

A windigo! Lyra gasped, her eyes shooting wide. That's right! A translucent ghost! How'd I not realize it sooner?!

She was sitting right next to one of the most feared monsters of Equestria. At the same time, that very monster happened to save her and looked as threatening as a bag of peanuts. So she could afford some benefit of doubt.

"Kept him... warm..." she reiterated what she heard, the odd little detail catching her attention even in the midst of her pains. "Could you... do that... again?"

As far as she knew, windigos could only take heat and not generate. It's not like she knew everything though, so there was always hoping.

"Ah... that would be most convenient, I agree. However, I can not just make Master warm. Not without help," the blue windigo stammered and giggled awkwardly. "Unless Master has an entourage or some other heat source around..."

Lyra squeezed her eyelids closed and tried not to remember how the Ninth was the only one to return from the blizzard. 

Well, now she had a plausible explanation for that so-called 'miracle'.





"That's hard to tell. I'm a simple servant, Master, not a historian," the blue windigo ran her gaze around the hole they were trapped in. "I think this place used to be a chapel. An underground one. For the miners, you see! They had a few here and there, out of superstition."

"A chapel," Lyra looked around as well. All she could see was dirty grey snow and bits of ruins. The fact she didn't land in a cave became obvious a while ago; what little remained of the walls were too orderly for something created by nature. Not to mention all the stuff lying around, such as blocks of cut stone and bits of rusted metal. Including the remains of a girder that she had the luck land on.

Even if there was a chapel around once, it has certainly wasted away over the centuries. Even if she was sitting among those remains, there was literally nothing that Lyra could identify.

"A chapel I think," the windigo felt the need to stress that extra word. "I'm not quite sure myself. Could have been a simple mining tunnel either..."

"Mines...! Right next to the skiing slopes, ugh. No wonder they put signs all over the place," Lyra huffed and put the left - working - hoof to her face. "Well thanks a bunch, FF... you kinda' forgot something real important from your brochures."

"These mountains were rich in minerals," the windigo mused on, her crimson eyes narrowing as she worked her mind for the details. "It was only natural to mine them. I followed the old Master in his tower for so very long... and even though he went senile, he was still the acting Viscount. He got a lot of reports. Mostly about financials. There were always the costs. Incredible, mind-boggling costs! Without the mines, there was no way they could have kept themselves afloat. Master would so often throw tantrums about that, once he believed he was safe from prying eyes. Apart from mine, of course. But as far as he cared, I didn't even exist - so it was all good."

"These mines sure don't look like being used any more... ow!" Lyra tried to move her right leg and broke into a hiss. She had instructed the windigo to talk - it was not feasting on her for sure as long as its mouth was busy with something else - and she used that time to slowly whip herself into working order.

She tore a part of her jacket off and used that to bandage her wound. She could almost see any professional breaking into tears at the end result, but it was good enough for her first try. She spent the rest of the time waiting for her strength to return, but she wasn't sure what to expect of herself. She could only limp at a truly pathetic pace, and her injury prevented her from any movement that twisted the skin on her right side. Which was most of the possible ones.

Even so, being able to move meant being able to get out of that hole.

"Careful, Master," the windigo winced at the sight of Lyra moving about. "That wound could be real deep. It would be better for you to remain still."

"Yeah. Much better to freeze to death here," Lyra scowled as she measured the walls made by the cave-in. Most were pure snow, unsuitable for climbing; but the part closest to the forest had a few trees which got uprooted, falling prey to the hole. The thought of forcing her way through the sticky pine-branches didn't really entice Lyra; but she was willing to make that sacrifice if it meant getting out of that trap.

"Look at the moon!" she pointed out, convincing both the windigo and herself. "We've spent a lot of time here already. If there was help coming, they would already be  here..."

The windigo glanced up and nodded in approval.

"Master could be correct... best not to wait for them if we can move. It is also possible they would not know where to look."

"That too... I came real far from the practice slope," Lyra bit onto her dry lip. "Well, nothing but to climb."

"Good luck with that, Master!" the windigo snapped to a salute. "Wish I could do more, but I'm... kind of incorporeal."

"I could have sworn I heard you would save my life somehow," Lyra growled under her nose, then turned her volume up a notch. "Anyway, stop calling me master already. I've got a name, you know! Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings! The least you could do is use it."

She couldn't help but notice how her small outburst mimicked that of the viscount. I like to know I'm more than my title... indeed. That thought brought a little grin to her face. Yeah, she took a liking to that doofus.

"Understood, Master Heartstrings," the windigo kept the salute, only flinching when Lyra shot a piercing stare at her. "I- I mean Lyra. Sorry about that, Mast- Lyra. Ugh... that is going to take a little getting used to."

"Life ain't a piece of cake," Lyra rolled her eyes and scampered to her hooves. Balancing on three legs was a tricky game, but she was getting close to nailing it down. Then she took the first, unsteady step... and almost tripped over, needing a few moments to correct herself. That prompted her to stop and wait until she caught her breath; a little pause that allowed her to remember something she initially hated about the viscount.

"And what's your name, by the way?"

"My... name?" the windigo stuttered. She leaned backwards and in general looked quite unsure. "I... I don't know. I really don't."

"Come on," Lyra growled as she squinted at the floor, planning her next step. Literally. "You must have some name. Everypony does."

"I never had," the windigo stated with absolute confidence. "Or maybe I did and I just can't recall it any more. Quite little difference there, yes?"

Lyra broke her concentrated focus and sneaked a glance at the translucent creature. The more they talked the less afraid she became of it. It didn't seem vicious at all - only eccentric, timid and completely lost. Hobbling another step forward and dragging her right hoof over the snowy ground, Lyra reminded herself how the very same windigo saved the Ninth though: by effectively murdering a whole bunch of ponies. All in order to save its Master, the only one it cared about.

Then again, serving its Master seemed to be the sole reason for its existence. And the Ninth never told the windigo to stand down, if its word could be believed.

A rather dubious case for locking someone into an amulet for so very long, all in all.

"You deserve a name," Lyra hissed through her bared teeth, hobbling one step further towards the fallen trees.

"If Master decrees so," the windigo nodded, then quickly corrected herself before the pony could give her another stern stare. "I mean Lyra, of course!"

"Better," Lyra huffed and shuffled forward. "Anything... ugh! Anything that you'd like?"

There was some silence, or rather, the lack of articulate sounds. The wind above seemed to pick up and made the forest rustle; and Lyra herself was making a racket, panting and puffing lightly as she dragged herself on. Only the windigo remained truly silent, the question apparently taking her some time to resolve.

"Nothing! As in, anything would do," she stated after a while, just as Lyra was about to reach the nearest overturned tree.

"You're... not picky," Lyra cackled weakly. Even that little movement made her feel sick. Her head felt light and she was all sweaty under her coat; the pain from the gash in her right side grew so intense that it made her stomach turn. She made it to the first tree though; deciding it was a good enough performance for the time being, she collapsed onto the branch and took a little breather.

Long way back to the château at this rate, she mused to herself as she panted. I'm not even sure if I can move in the snow... and there's a lot of snow between here and there!

Yeah, that could be a problem. There was snow everywhere. Lots and lots and lots and even more lots of snow. It was always tiring to move in that white stuff without skis; she may not even make it halfway to the Dancing Lights before she would run out of stamina and just collapse. Who knows if she'd be found then?

If only this lucky charm worked, Lyra made a sombre smile, digging the amulet out from the cover of her jacket. 

Then she got another shock.

The blue gemstone from the middle of the jewellery was gone, its place taken by a featureless black rock. She stared at the pendant for a while, all sorts of thoughts swirling in her head; mostly about how Flash Freeze would react to his precious heirloom having gotten damaged. Then Lyra burst into a raspy cackle, the realization hitting her.

The pendant wasn't damaged.

It was simply empty.

I suppose this makes that monster my lucky charm, Lyra rolled her head to the side, her glance falling right onto the windigo. From where she was resting, the creature was really hard to spot; the translucent blue body blended pretty well with the dirty-gray snow. It only made sense; windigos were always rumoured to live in the frozen hills. Of course they would be most suited to places dominated by ice and snow.

Snow, snow, snow. Always snow.

"Snowy," Lyra mumbled, the word coming to her almost instinctively. "I think I'm gonna' call you Snowy."
> 6 - Rescue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The log flung downward and smashed against the metal with a dull thud. The impact carried enough force to visibly dent the padlock; it also proved to be too much for Lyra, the log breaking free of her unicorn magic and buckling into the snow, almost hitting her good leg on the way down.

"AGH! Offf ffor-!" she cussed instinctively as she took a hurried step back - after the whole scene was over. Her exhaustion had reached the point where she had to really focus just to keep up with the outside world. It didn't make walking in the deep snow still any easier either; the retreat unbalanced her, and she couldn't drag her rear legs out of the snow quick enough. Gravity did the rest for her as she stumbled, finally falling backwards and landing on her butt, torso sinking into the snow almost mid-way.

She would have taken offence were her jacket not already soggy wet or frozen stiff, depending on the area.

"Why in Eques'ria woul' anypony lock a freahhhing shed?" she gave the door a desperate look, complaining as best as she could with her uncooperative tongue. She couldn't speak the way she wanted to ever since she left the forest, but she was so exhausted that she no longer cared.

She almost regretted setting her sights on that flimsy building. It had seemed like a sensible decision at the time. When she had dragged herself back to the proper slopes, she was quite sure she would never make it back to the château. That despite how she saw the lights in the distance - that was the worst, actually. So close and so far away. A long path went back there, trekking across another hill; not too shabby with skis, but an absolute pain on hooves.

Utterly impossible for a drained out musician who was down a leg and suffered from frostbites already.

She was sitting on the bottom of the slope, hanging onto a marker pole and longing for her warm room when the idea struck her. She recalled the shed FF took her to earlier. It may have been small, it may have been unrefined and it may have had little in the way of supplies; but it had dry wood and a fireplace. It was also a lot closer, just a shortish climb up a slope.

The promise of a warm and dry room completely made her forget how FF meticulously locked the door after they left. Chilling in the snow with a dejected look on her face, Lyra eyed that dent and bent padlock and felt like breaking into tears.

This so can't be happening.

"Logically, the padlock is there to keep loiterers and animals out," Snowy rubbed her chin. Owing to being a windigo with a completely intangible body, she had no issues with walking on the snow, a feature Lyra envied to no end. "A grumpy bear would be a rude surprise to anypony seeking shelter in one of these huts."

"Yesssh... much bedder to let 'em freeze to deafff insss'ead," Lyra shook her head. She clenched her teeth and willed herself go back to breaking the lock again. It was so difficult to get back up, though.

At least her teeth stopped clattering a while ago. In all honesty, that development should have made her much more worried than she felt; she was really relieved instead. She had no idea how cold she was and about hypothermia in general; but her body not following her orders was easy to spot and grated her badly. She hopped back to the door and grabbed the log with her magic, bringing the frozen piece of wood high and letting it come down on the lock with another thud.

Crack.

The poor padlock jumped around wildly, but gave no signs of giving up just yet.

"I would think they have attendants at the ready when they are expecting visitors to need the hut," Snowy mused as her Master was busy struggling for her dear life. "Clearly, night-time is not included in their schedule."

"Clea'ly," Lyra grumbled absent-mindedly and brought the log down again. The crack of the lock was accompanied by a new, different sound. Something was giving way, that was sure; but the door remained closed, the warm salvation still ever so far away.

The windigo didn't bother to add anything further, and Lyra was all too focused on her task to bother with talking. The wind started to pick up, showering them with thin vapours of snow; the beats of the log acting like a metronome in the otherwise silent environment.

Crack.

Crack.

Creee-crack.

Creeeeee-crack.

Work! Lyra grunted as she watched the log smash against the padlock, the annoying piece of metal resisting even her most valiant efforts. The hut itself was a lot less sturdy though, and the lock visibly began to tear away from the door, the left side already dangling loose. Not quite what she was gunning for, but Lyra would be happy with any resolution that got the door open. Especially once the wind began blowing in earnest, turning her whole left side white in a single moment.

Strangely enough, that shower of snow didn't make her feel any colder. The small white flakes showed no sign of melting either, and that was worrisome enough to get her attention.

"I mussh' be rr-real ccchold," she mumbled and finished the sentence with biting onto her tongue.

Serves you right, she fumed inside her head. Keep out of my way next time. Stupid thing, never doing what I want...

"Master IS pretty cold," Snowy walked next to the pony, her red eyes also fixed on the padlock. "Ma- I mean Lyra should break this lock soon. I am not sure what is the lowest temperature ponys still survive at, but it would be better to not test it any further."

You don't say, Lyra shot an annoyed glare at the windigo and lifted the log back into the air. Telekinetic magic or not, it took a real effort to keep the beating up; and she wasn't sure if she or the shed could maintain their composure longer. She was drifting towards the idea of taking a small nap; she was so tired and hurt, a little sleep could have done wonders. Could, were Snowy not waking her up all the freaking times, nudging her forward undaunted.

Easy for a ghost made of cold. You don't need any sleep whatsoever.

Watching the log bounce off the padlock and land back into the snow, Lyra turned that annoyance into more fuel for her desperation. She could sleep in the house, she definitely could; just light a fire so she can thaw out and then she would be snoring right away.

A little warm and some sleep.

Just a door away from her.

Screw you! Let me in already!

The frozen log flung back into the air and slammed straight into the padlock, this time propelled both by gravity and a sickly tired unicorn's magic. The crack sounded absolutely different, and the padlock landed in the snow alongside the log. It was still intact - but the screws holding it to the door were lying next to it, having been torn from the wood by the repeated impacts. Lyra stared at the bits of metal with a stupefied expression. She has been beating away at the door for what seemed like ages, and she was wholly expecting to just continue doing so until she slumped over with exhaustion. The chance of success grew so slim in her mind that she almost forgot about the possibility.

Then she got over her surprise and stumbled forward, yanking the door outward and literally falling into the shack, crashing onto the floor without a word.

A cold, dirty, run-down shack with a sooty fireplace, some dry wood and a broken door.

Yet the only place that could make her as ecstatic as she was.





"Wha..." Lyra mumbled and threw another match onto the oil soaked paper. A small blue flame lit up and grew with orange fury - then gave out and fizzled into nothingness.

Rubbing a numb hoof against her injured leg, Lyra considered that she was already going mad. She was always more of a city girl, yes; but it was impossible that she would fail at survival so badly that she failed to light a fire with a match. She turned her head to the right and checked on the door; but it was closed, just as she left it. The wind kept picking up force and rattled the shack time to time; that only affected the outside world though, the air in the shack remaining still.

It wasn't the currents blowing her fire out.

Squinting at the fireplace - her newest enemy - with angry eyes, Lyra lit another match and threw it onto the paper. A small fire greeted her, burning for the whole total of two seconds before disappearing.

"OH BUGGA' ME SIDEWAYS!" Lyra screeched and threw the entire box of matches onto the cold wood. Her sense of balance virtually non-existent, she also followed the small object, landing on the dusty floor with a thud, making a small white cloud as the impact knocked the accumulated snow off from her. Not like she cared about stuff like that any more. She was so numb everywhere, she could have started hammering nails through her leg without flinching. Being numb didn't prevent her from being angry and incredibly upset, though.

"Se'eously... wha's wron' wiff me today...?"

Having bad luck once was always just that - bad luck. Twice in a row was usually a bad omen. Having a whole day be nothing but things go wrong... that was her idiocy. Almost always.

"I don't get the frustration," Snowy tried to placate her. "Master is doing everything correctly."

Lying still on the floor, Lyra only moved her amber eyes to the windigo.

"Ya' even 'now what 'am... tryin' to do?" she mumbled. Being horizontal on the floor, she felt the need for a nap overtaking her again. She wanted to light the fire first, but as it seemed impossible... she may as well just skip that part and go straight to sleeping.

It couldn't hurt to sleep a little. Just a little.

"Sure I do," Snowy rubbed her ghostly hooves together expectantly. "Dinner!"

"Din... ner...?" Lyra raised her eyebrow at the strange answer. Her frozen and stiff lips curled to a smile at the windigo's humour... then her eyes widened as she realized the creature was not joking. "Snow... Snowy. Were ya'... eatin'... that?"

"A little unripely and way too small," Snowy gave a honest assessment on her dish. "But still the best meal I had in a... well I have no idea how many years! Probably a few centuries. What year is it again, Master?"

Fricken' heat-devouring monster, Lyra ground her teeth against each other, fully knowing where her attempts at fire-making have gone astray.

"Stahp eatin' mah' fire ya' iiii... idiot," she muttered and turned her gaze at the fireplace. The small box of matches acquired an amber aura and floated back to her, the pony taking another match. "Lemme' start a... a fire propah'... get wa.. warm! Then I dun' c... care whaccha do..."

"Oh... oh. All right," Snowy made an uncertain nod. As usual, her ghostly face was hard to decipher; but it seemed as if she understood the mistake she made. "Sorry about that, Master. I got a little overly excited."

Lyra didn't care about the apology one bit. She flung a lit match into the fireplace and watched the flames erupt with a faint whoosh, the orange colour surrounding the wood and the air filling with a sour, acidic smoke. Mesmerized, Lyra stared into the light with glassy eyes.

Her long awaited rest, at last.





Lyra never thought it could happen, but she started missing the cold.

Her body didn't react so nicely to being thawing out. Her physical being was a petty bastard, filling her head with all sorts of woes instead of being thankful. Her stomach turned wildly, making her all sorts of sick; the feeling only made more annoying by knowing how she didn't have anything since breakfast. She couldn't get up from the floor; the room began turning around her each time she tried to do so, making her sickness even more pronounced. Not like it would have done her much good anyway, for all her legs were burning up with a fury of a thousand suns. She placed them closer to the fire, let them defrost quicker; but that only made the tingling sensation worse. She could only bear the punishment for a few seconds before she had to yank them away, scuttling away from the very fire she struggled to lit.

She should have taken a nap while she still could, even if it was cold. Eyeing the orange flames with bloodshot eyes, she knew that was no longer a possibility either. No matter how insanely tired she felt, she couldn't fall asleep when she felt mere moments away from throwing up.

I so absolutely hate today.

Then something struck her right leg, making her flinch and hiss with pain. A quick look proved her worries: her wound sprang back into action, the makeshift bandage turning vivid red.

"Oh- oh right," Snowy put a hoof to her head. "Master's wound must have thawed out. I'm not sure if I can freeze it back again, not with all this heat around. I'm not sure if it would be wise, either..."

Her horn flaring up with magic as she unzipped the jacket, Lyra was pretty sure that repeatedly deep-freezing wounds was not a medically recommended practice. She never saw any movie where anypony survived by doing that. Heroes always sported tightly wrapped bandages. Properly bandaging herself needed her to remove her clothing first, though; so she began another tiresome battle, trying to rid herself from her torn and pine-resin sticky jacket. It was a somewhat expensive piece of cloth, made to be warm and comfortable at the same time. She remembered how easy it was to put it on... yet, in her tired and clumsy state, it was oh-so difficult to remove it. She wound up using her teeth alongside her magic to take it off, tearing a few more holes into the fabric in the process.

She so didn't care.

The gash in her leg took priority. She was no certified doctor, but it looked quite deep to her; it also started to bleed pretty badly once she removed the torn jacket from above it. Gulping both to calm herself and keep her empty stomach from turning up, she yanked the orange box from the wall. Quite literally - the box came off its hinges and landed on the floor, cracking open with a loud bang and spilling everything onto the floor. Scissors, rolled up sheets of white bandage, pills, even more pills, smaller scissors, wavy scissors, something that looked like a really small knife, and a few more things that she wholly ignored. She grabbed the closest sheet of bandage and hastily wrapped it around her leg. She wasn't sure how an actual bandage looked like, so she improvised - wrapping a new layer whenever the mess of white textile felt loose.

She wound up exhausting the whole roll, even wrapping a good part of her torso and the base of her neck somehow. The bandage held firm at last; so firm that she felt constricted whenever she drew a deeper breath. That also pulled on her wound in turn, turning breathing into a painful exercise. Still, as far as Lyra was considered, the pain was welcome: it told her that the bandage was still holding in place.

"I... think that's not how one wraps with bandage," Snowy scratched her head, confusion clouding her crimson eyes.

"I think I dun' care," Lyra dropped back onto the floor, the silver necklace rocking around her as she hit the floor. It was a rough landing, she was only careful about her right side staying in the air. A brief flinch ran across her face as she took a deeper breath, the white bandage stretching against her movements. She felt like a washed tablecloth hung out to dry; even that brief exercise tired her greatly. She didn't regret anything though. That wound needed some care one way or the other. Even her head cleared a little. She almost felt ready to fall asleep, an improvement she spent so much time waiting for. She only needed to shuffle around a little, kneading her wet jacket until she was comfortable...

Right until something pricked her rear leg. It didn't really hurt, the sensation close to getting bitten by a bug. It was more than enough to the irate Lyra though, and she rolled there with a groan that perfectly blended her frustration and anger.

She found no bug on the floor. Only a pair of wavy scissors were there, the small tool lying open and sharp-side up, just as it landed. Lyra didn't complain or anything; she just swept everything back into the orange box with a growl and threw the whole thing back onto its resting place. She had no desire to roll onto something sharper during her sleep. The ground being clear of sharp widgets, she hopped back onto her jacket... and realized she may have put it a little too close to the fireplace.

It was actually kind of obvious since the hood had already caught fire.

I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF TODAY!

Overreaction is the irate pony's best friend, a saying that doubly goes for one that was so deprived of sleep and full of ailments. Followed by her windigo's confused stare, Lyra quenched the small rogue fire with a stomp, then grabbed the jacket with her teeth and pulled it to the farthest point from the fire. She went all the way to the back of the shack, settling down among the dry logs. There she settled onto the bare logs, using the dripping jacket as a make-shift blanket which she pulled onto herself. She sank into that imaginary fortress with a proud grin, deeply satisfied by how she felt herself cut off from the outside world.

Equestria could go and do wherever it wanted for all she cared. She was taking a day off.

"Is it wise, going to sleep with the fire still burning?" Snowy scratched her ghostly head, her crimson stare alternating between her master and the orange flames. "I remember the previous Master going through all sorts of reports where peasants burnt their homes down this way... also, in the corner over there, there are-"

"Duncare," Lyra waved a hoof in the air, her mind already on the way to dreamland. "Eat it or sum'hing. Sleep. Lemme' sleep."

She was in a slumber almost as soon as she finished that sentence, her long day finally coming to an end. She didn't even hear Snowy's legitimately curious question.

"Why does Master prefer the wet coat instead of the dry blankets over there...?"





"Master."

Lyra didn't show much reaction to the call. She mumbled something, twitched her eyebrows a little, and that was about it. 

"Master..."

A hoof sailed through the air, aimed at the irritating and very much imaginary fruit fly that pestered the slumbering pony. While a wholly misguided reaction, it did convey the proper intent to the ghostly windigo.

Shoo. Let me sleep.

"MASTER!"

Lyra bared her teeth and growled, pulling the jacket tighter on her head. She must have been in the belief she was in her room, as she even tried pulling a log closer to her head - a move that made more sense with pillows.

"MASTER!"

Snowy finally reached a level that crossed Lyra's threshold. She outed a pained growl and cracked an eye open, the amber pupil barely visible between her eyelids.

Even from what little she could see, the shack was quiet and peaceful. The fire must have been out because everything was dark; even the air was a little cold, the thin wooden walls not retaining the warmth all too well. Talking about the wooden walls, they were making a small racket as they struggled against the battering wind outside. The weather had definitely taken a turn for the worse. There was no movement inside though - absolutely no reason for her to wake up.

"What now...?" she stuttered, uttering the words so quietly as if she was talking to herself. She had no idea what had struck the crazy windigo, but she knew she already regretted signing that stupid contract binding it to her. That thing was consistently denying her sleep.

I wonder if she has an off button, Lyra rubbed her eye drowsily.

"Master, we've got company," Snowy motioned towards the door with her nose. "Is that your rescue perhaps?" 

Lyra had two good reasons why she couldn't answer that. She had just woken up, first of all; she had absolutely no idea what the windigo was talking about. She also had to take a deep yawn for two, rendering herself unable to speak.

Then a loud bang came from the door, bringing her wide awake in the fraction of a second. She also shrunk two sizes as she hid behind the logs, eyeing the dark innards of the shack in complete silence. She would have liked to be as positive as Snowy was, expecting a cheerful pony to just barge in and carry her all the way back to the château; but after her absolutely miserable day, she was more expecting fate to send a wild and hungry bear her way.

Out of the frying pan, straight into the larger dish below.

All the time.

Another bang; the door rocked and creaked, the old wood barely resisting the force pitched against it. Lyra hastily pulled a few logs closer to her, bettering her makeshift hiding spot.

Then another bang; splinters of wood fell from the door, showering onto the floor. 

"Ohmysweetcelestia," Lyra muttered and pulled herself deeper among the logs, even going as far as dragging some onto her back with her magic. "Please stay the heck away from me. Pretty please."

"Not friendlies, then? Maybe they don't even know you're here," Snowy gave her a perplexed stare. "I wonder why would they would want in so badly."

Cowering in the confines of logs, Lyra couldn't move any of her hooves to her face; so she had to suffice with just banging her head against a random piece of wood. Then she got an idea.

"You're a windigo, right?" she moved her gaze to the ghostly figure standing next to her. "Can't you, you know, save me somehow?! You're supposed to be a terrible, deathly monster!"

Snowy jumped a little, backing away from Lyra, her expression that of bewilderment and pain.

"M- monster?! Me?" she stuttered, visibly taking a few deep gasps. It was more than likely a reflex she picked up from the ponies she trailed; being a ghost, she had no need for air.

Lyra gave that reaction a sombre nod, sighing deeply as she worked herself through the disappointment.

Yeah, right. Sorry for thinking you'd give me a break. What was I even expecting?

Back to hiding it was. If she remained concealed and wasn't too loud, she could conceivably pull through unscathed. That's what she kept telling herself, anyway. Then came the next loud bang from the door, a few nails popping loose and dropping to the floor with faint clings...

Lyra gulped and held her breath back. She was as ready as she could get. There was nothing that could give her away-

-apart from a translucent blue pony that stood next to her, the pair of crimson eyes glowing like two torches.

IDIOT! Lyra bit her lips real hard, berating both herself and her stupid windigo with the singular word. Still, if the creature couldn't help her, the least it could do was not getting in her way.

"Snowy! Here, RIGHT NOW!" she barked, muffling her voice as much as she could. Her nerves already on the edge, it was hard to prevent herself from screaming. "Don't let them see you!"

The windigo acknowledged the command with a perplexed stare and cocked her head to the side; then she shrugged and hopped next to Lyra with an effortless move, her blue figure disappearing behind the logs. Just in time, too. Another bang echoed across the room and a crossbeam fell from the door, landing with a hollow thud. One more push and the shack was open - permanently.

That push never came though.

"Whah- WHAT IN THE BLOODY NAME OF CELESTIA ARE YOU DOING?!"

The shout came from the outside, and got Lyra's ears perked up right away. No wild animals would scream like a thoroughly angry pony.

"Openin' the shack, Sir. Lock's broken, but the door ain't budgin'. Got barred from inside, I guess."

"Or maybe you need to pull instead of push, you dimwit! Didn't you notice ALL the warming shacks open to the outside? So that, you know, the wind can't just push the doors in?"

The door got yanked as the last word sounded. The inside of the shack immediately got a lot more lively. Moonlight filtered in and painted the walls blue. The raging wind pushed into the small room, cooling everything and dragging snow around. Lyra began to shiver in her small hiding spot and really wished she had taken her jacket back on before she laid low. A small nuisance compared to how relieved she felt; those were ponies out there. A wide grin spreading across her face, she sighed and readied herself to stand up and greet them. She only needed a little time to get her unruly legs to work; they went all numb during her sleep in the uncomfortable spot. Finally-

A pegasus in a bulky black jacket stormed into the room before she could move, scanning the dark interior with a hasty movement of his head.

"Well I'll be. Nopony in here. I am bamboozled, positively bamboozled!" he growled, spinning around and glaring at his colleague through the door. "I told you we won't catch her in such a convenient spot! But noooo, you HAD to be stupid and break the bloody door anyway. That's coming down from your salary mate, I hope you know that!"

CATCH her? Lyra jolted at the choice of expression, and immediately went back to hiding proper. Whoever those two were, they sure didn't sound like a rescue party. 

Better wait a little and see.

"Wha'!" the other pony barked back, his voice much deeper than that of his boss. "I ain't broken' nothin'! I checked this hut 'ere 'cause I saw the padlock missin'!"

"Yeah, and you breaking this door apart was just my vivid imagination!" the black-clothed pegasus circled a hoof next to his head. "Look at this door, mate! It's in tatters! Are you going to tell me you didn't do anything?!"

"Not to the padlock," the pony outside mumbled embarrassedly.

"Suuure," the pegasus shook his head and moved to the fireplace. "So somepony broke into a warming hut and then forgot to start a fire, eh?"

"She could've put it out. She could've heard us comin'."

"Then she's got some super-sharp ears, noting us early enough to let the whole fireplace cool down," the pegasus leaned over the ashes and charred pieces of wood. "Yep, all cold. This fire was put out long ago."

"She could've cooled it with some snow," the other pony stuck to his argument as he barged into the room himself. He was a stocky earth pony, towering above his boss; he had a deep-blue jacket himself, a transparent visor on his head protecting his eyes from the hash wind outside.

"Last I checked, snow melts into water when it gets hot. You see any dampness here, mate? Mud?" the pegasus rose back up to slap the earth pony. "No! Of course you don't! Because she wasn't here, and you're just grasping at the straws to avoid paying for all the dumb things you do!"

"She could've cooled it down some other way," the earth pony recoiled from the strike. Despite his deep voice, he sounded very anxious at that point.

"Haha, yeah, sure! She's a blasted windigo now, freezing fireplaces without a trace!" the pegasus broke into a hollering laughter, then pushed his head against his colleague's. "Stop. Being. Obtuse. Or else I'm going to get you kicked out so hard you'll be flying all the way back to Appleloosa. Am I being clear enough, mate?!"

"SIR! LOUD AND CLEAR, SIR!" the earth pony snapped to attention, yelling so loudly that Lyra's ears rang. She also sneaked a glance at Snowy, wondering how unlikely it was of the useless monster to save her.

Her first lucky break for a good while - and not a moment too soon.

"Good! Good," the pegasus made a small nod and turned around again, coming to a stop directly in Lyra's direction. That scared the living daylights out of her; she became absolutely still right away. She didn't even breathe. "Eh, what's done is done. Might as well make the most of this... investigation now. Did you see any trails leading here?"

"In that wind, Sir?" the earth pony took a more relaxed pose and scratched his head. "Even our own trail's gone, and we've arrived 'ere 'bout two minutes ago."

The pegasus snorted loudly and glanced behind his back, prompting the earth pony to straighten out and go back to yelling.

"I mean - NO SIR! NO TRAILS LEADING HERE, SIR!"

"More like it," the pegasus sighed and ran his eyes across the small room. "So let's see what’ve got in here... no personal items for sure. Blankets are all in their spot, nice and orderly, just as the cleaners would leave them. You see that, mate? That’s somepony doing their job. Properly. Anyhow… first aid box is on the wall as well... she would've definitely needed that."

This is no rescue party, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and pulled her ears to her neck, trying to present the lowest profile possible. They are like, hunting for me. What the heck...

She wondered if this was just another bad dream. But that possibility was not convincing enough to give herself away just yet. She could pinch herself later, once she was in the clear.

"Master's rescue doesn't look too friendly," Snowy hummed and climbed out of her cover to take a better look at the intruders. Lyra couldn't as much as gasp, the development catching her completely by surprise. She watched the stupid ghost stand up and move forward in complete silence.

"Sir... she could've packed the box back together, Sir," the earth pony struggled to make another objection, standing as firm as if he swallowed a stick.

"Yeah. She'd walk all the way here with a girder in her side and she would still have the mind to do some house-cleaning," the pegasus shook his head, tiredness overpowering any other emotion in his voice. "We're talking about a musician, mate. Who do you think she was, really? Supermare?"

"I don't think I like you two," Snowy exclaimed as she strolled between the conversing ponies.

Lyra herself was sitting silently in her cover, her mouth left hanging as she watched her ghostly pet waltz to the two ponies and inspect them up close. Close enough to start sniffing their clothes. All without them batting an eye.

I'm totally dreaming this, Lyra came to the only sensible conclusion and shut her mouth closed before she started drooling. Hey brain, this was really cool and trippy and everything... but I wouldn't mind waking up about now.

"Ah, right. Kinda' forgot she's wounded," the earth pony mumbled, then jolted as an idea crossed his mind. "The floor! We could check the floor, Sir!"

"For what," the pegasus turned back to his colleague, his voice broken and tired. He was obviously tired of the whole business already.

"For blood!" the earth pony chattered excitedly.

Moving her eyes to the bright-red bandage on her right leg, Lyra flinched and knew her short-lived luck just ran out. She hid pretty well, even if unknowingly; but she was sure she didn't clean the floor before she went to sleep. She wasn't expecting to find herself on the run.

The pegasus hummed at the suggestion and turned his gaze downwards, staring at the floor. As the door of the shack was still wide open, the wind had no issues finding its way in, bringing ever more snow with it. The floor was already sporting a white cover, just as the fireplace and the orange first-aid box accumulated more and more of the fluffy white stuff.

"There's no broom in this hut," the pegasus stated as he dragged his hoof across the floor, building an small ant-hill of snow. "Fancy cleaning the place with your tail, mate?"

"Er- no, Sir. Not really," the earth pony frowned at the prospect. "T'was just a suggestion, Sir."

"You're not paid for suggestions, mate," the pegasus growled and pulled the transparent visor back over his eyes. "Just as you're not paid to break things either. Now quit screwing around and do your job already! I told you to search the forest, didn't I? She's out there, she has to be. Or are you afraid of going into the dark and scary woods, mate? Need your doll?"

"More like hopin' she ain't out there. Sir," the earth pony bit his lip. "She's frozen solid if she spent the whole night in this crazy wind. Tho' she could've dug a hole and weathered there, I s'pose."

"As if a city pony would know of such tricks. Besides, why would you even hope for that?!" the pegasus gave his colleague a piercing stare. "If she dug a hole for the night then she bled out in that hole, as simple as that. And that would be real bad news for us, mate. I don't know about you, but I sure don't feel like digging through the entire bloody forest! So stop talking nonsense, will you?"

The earth pony shrank away from his superior's glare; which was good enough for the pegasus.

"Priorities, mate! Priorities," the pegasus went on as he walked out from the shack. "A guest disappeared at night. So what? We will get an inquiry. But you know what everypony's going to say? That she was another stupid daredevil who didn't know her limits, end of story. Who bloody cares. The amulet disappearing though! The viscount would personally rip us a new one for that. And we wouldn't like this story to end in a tragedy, right, mate?"

"Absolutely not, Sir," the earth pony mumbled. He hesitated for a moment, indecisive whether he should listen to his instincts or his superior; then he caved in and walked out himself, passing straight through the windigo and then the open doorway as well. Then the door slammed shut and the shack fell into silence.

"I'm pretty sure I don't like you two," Snowy bared her fangs at the closed door.

Lyra was still keeping silent and hiding among the logs. Snow covered the jacket she was huddled under and her heart pounded away in her ears; but she daren't move or as much as swallow. This was the very first time she was in actual danger, and the paralysis didn't let up easily; it took her a while to get over the initial shock. Not like she had much to be afraid of. With the howling wind outside, it was unlikely those two would hear her even if she started making a racket.

"Master?" Snowy turned to her, the windigo clearly missing the reaction from her side. "Master? Are you all right?"

Lyra cocked her head to the side and rose to her hooves. She moved slowly and was shaking in every joint, though not of the cold this time. She absent-mindedly took a step on a log and tripped straight away, landing on the floor after some skidding.

"MASTER!" Snowy rushed to her aid. As if the ghost could help her in getting back up.

"What the..." Lyra muttered. She was lying belly-down on the floor, her hind legs still resting on the pile of logs; but her mind was still stuck in the past, rewinding the previous few minutes again and again. "I don't get it... what's going on here?"

"Master has some enemies," Snowy proposed the obvious, the windigo dropping to the floor so she faced her master eye to eye. "Master needs to be careful."

Her eyes turning to the ghostly figure, Lyra made a frown; then she pulled her left leg to her face and bit onto it. Hard. The only result she got were a few tears streaming from her eyes, closely followed by Snowy making a bewildered face.

Nothing else changed though. She was still in the shack.

"Nope. Not a dream," she put her left hoof to her head, the despair creeping from her stomach towards her head in the form of a knot. "Oh my sweet Celestia, it's not a dream."





"This wise, Master?" Snowy fretted and fiddled with her hooves. "Master will be all sorts of visible-"

"I already told you to quit calling me that!" Lyra creaked the shack's door open, and took a peek outside. It was somewhat difficult, as pushing the door open also meant pushing the snow away; but she prevailed after some grunting. A rather unfriendly and chilly wind blew in her face straight away, forcing her to shield her eyes with a hoof; bothersome but a far cry from the storm that raged over the night. The same night that was letting up beyond the thinning wall of snow, the early rays of the sun basking the white hills in a pinkish hue.

More importantly, however, she couldn't see anypony nearby. Only one figure moved in the distance, at the far end of the slope, making its way towards the forest.

"I do believe I mentioned it was clear," Snowy slipped through the crack in the door, the ghostly being unhindered by such physical constraints. 

That remark was right; Lyra had instructed the windigo to scout around earlier, greatly abusing the fact that only she was able to see the ghostly creature. Well, she and anypony else who signed their contracts with that Source-whoever. She assumed there weren't many of them.

"Then what are you getting all uppity about?" Lyra hissed to the windigo, gradually pushing the door open until she also fit through.

"This place is clear - but the Dancing Lights is still a fair walk away," Snowy pointed a blue hoof at the far-away château. "And even if Master can sneak there unseen, it's impossible to not be spotted once we get close to that! I saw the designs, during my time with the previous Master. It was built with safety in mind - both from sieges and lonesome threats."

"That's the Dancing Lights castle you're talking about. This is the Dancing Lights lodge. Substantial difference, that!" Lyra explained as she stepped outside. "I happen to be a guest there. Like, you know, a few dozen other ponies right now. They can't easily get rid of me once I'm in the crowd."

"Assuming they care," Snowy mused and began to pace in front of Lyra, despite her objections. "In my experience, peasants aren't worth much in the eyes of their Lord... and Master doesn't happen to be a noble, as I understand."

"Didn't you hear me telling you to quit that Master thing already?!" Lyra fumed with clattering teeth. She was back to shivering, a feeling she was growing quite familiar with. She didn't dare to light the fireplace again, lest the smoke gave her away; but the air inside the shack cooled out rather quickly that way, and the few blankets she swiped barely kept some semblance of warmth in her.

She was pretty sure the day would be worse than her night, though.

Her jacket was torn in so many places that it looked like an impressionist painting of some cheese, offering almost no protection against the cold any more. She had to make do with what she had, wrapping one of the blankets around herself and only then forcing the jacket on; the only way she could imagine herself walking for hours in the snow. She was somewhat aware how the blanket would get soaking wet after a while, but she couldn't imagine herself daring the trip with only the tatters of her former attire.

Just in case she wasn't down and under enough, she also grew hungry and very, very thirsty; so thirsty she tried to eat some snow. That one didn't go so well. It was so cold she couldn't chew the thing properly, much less swallow any of it. There was one consolation though: that there were plenty of provisions in the Dancing Lights. As long as she used her wits, she could get her hooves on something once she got there.

"Anyway, times have changed a lot since," Lyra continued her answer as she followed the windigo. "We're way more civilized now. I mean, there's still commoners and nobles - but the law considers everypony eeeeeeqqquuuAAAARGH THIS SNOW IS DEEP!"

It had snowed all night; and the fresh batch was a lot thinner than the aged, compacted snow that she got to know yesterday. Despite sinking all the way to her neck, Lyra had to make sure she stayed on her windigo's path. Snowy was abusing another of her qualities, that being her age; she walked the same path back in the day, when she was coming to the castle with the Ninth. While the windigo seemed to have a spotty memory, she swore she could remember the path they took. 

Lyra deliberated at length on that, but finally had no reason to distrust the ghostly creature. She didn't have many other choices either, to be fair. Her only viable plan hinged on the windigo.

The two of them waded away from the route marked by the flags; the idea was to cross to the other side of the ridge and then move parallel to the path the guests used. Lyra understood she took certain risks; she abandoned a prepared route for an unprepared one for starters, making the walk a lot more exhausting. It also meant traversing through unknown terrain; a wrong step and she could careen down the hill. A barely used trail covered with fresh snow; she had no real chance of making it through there on her own. Not unless she had a guide, a pony who knew the way - like Snowy did.

It was by the same token she expected the viscount's goons not to bother looking for her there. They were focused on where she was likely to be - the warming shacks, the forest and the prepared routes the guests regularly took. She didn't stray too far from the ridge though; that was her contingency. On off-the-hoof chance she did run into a sentry, she would just dash over the ridge and scream at the top of her lungs, bumbling into the guests who used the regular route on the other side. Attracting attention was being safe.

That was only a last-resort, though. She would have preferred to make it to the château in silence. She had seen enough movies to know how being the heroine's best friend was far from a safe job. Bon would have made a fine leverage against her indeed; and the only thing guaranteeing Bon's safety was the viscount's belief that Lyra was dead.

She had no choice but to maintain that illusion as long as possible.

Watching her shadow become pronounced as the sun started to creep into the sky behind her, Lyra was pretty sure she had another long day ahead of her.
> 7 - Revisit
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Huh."

The earth pony's mumbled remark was accompanied by very little applause. Not like he had been gunning for anything like that; he wasn't too moved himself either. Not even the wheat stem sticking out from his mouth moved.

"Found something?"

Another earth pony joined him, bringing the total amount of bored ponies staring at the empty mountainside to a new high of two.

"There's somethin' rollin' down there."

Both earth ponies rested their gazes on the white mountainside. Something was happening indeed; a larger snowball was zipping down, picking up snow and growing in size as it gathered speed.

To put the boredom of the spectators into perspective, this was the most interesting sight of their day by far.

"Can't believe we're watchin' some snow roll down a hill," the first one commented and resumed chewing on his wheat.

"Little too big just for snow. My bet is a small boulder," the second one threw his own guess into the pool, then slumped onto the guard rail of their locomotive. "Pity. I was hoping for something interesting. Like an avalanche."

Rolling the wheat stem around with his tongue, the first pony squinted at the odd object. It was a waste of time, gawking at that thing; but their train had already been refilled and they had literally nothing else left to do.

"Yea', true 'dat. Them avalanches are real interestin'," he cocked his head to the side, the wheat in his mouth becoming almost perfectly vertical. "I kinda' doubt them tourists would enjoy it the same, tho'."

"Nopony asked if we enjoy sitting around here like this either," the second one rubbed at a sooty patch on his face. Too bad his hooves were all sooty as well; his scratching only resulted in his features darkening further. "I don't get why we should buy a day pass to leave the train. It's not like this train wouldn't need to depart in a few hours anyway."

"In two hours and fifty-nine minutes you mean," the pony with the wheat glanced to the instrument panel. "But who's countin' anyway..."

"Celestia be my witness, this route is more than enough to drive anypony crazy," the second earth pony groaned, then turned to the other machinist with a mischievous grin. "Hey. You think we could inspect the dining car?"

The wheat-chewing pony glanced at the ceiling of the locomotive, then broke into a happy snort.

"We're kinda' responsible for the whole train, ain't we? We'd be neglectin' our duty if we did'n do so."

There were no further arguments from either side. The two of them clapped hooves at the job well done and left the locomotive, only the heaps of cold food and the fine barrels of champagne on their minds. They deserved a little vacation too, after all; or, lacking that, a little break from their usual worries. Such as their locomotive or the white ball barrelling down in the background.





Ugh, Lyra stumbled away from her point of impact - the very edge of a paved road at the outskirts of the Dancing Lights' train station. Thank Celestia I hadn't had anything to eat yesterday...

That was such a weird thing to be thankful for. It took a set of very special circumstances, such as coming down a hill by rolling all the way. 

She had only felt her hoof slipping at first. Had she had two working legs in the front, she would've stabilized herself; alas, she was missing that luxury option ever since she fell into that cave-in. The first few turns were the worst, the sky and the white ground alternating in rapid succession; then she was covered in snow and only saw white afterwards.

Then came the flat terrain.

The landing had squeezed all the air out of her, crackling all her ribs like how a pro plays the xylophone. Thanks to the extra padding she wore - the blanket under her jacket - Lyra had only felt her wound flare up with pain again. The rest of her had endured the impact without much fuss and she had actually felt more sick than pained, her head dizzy after the minute or so of continuous roll.

All in all, she was sure about one thing. She had managed to get close to the Dancing Lights in the fastest way possible! Even she had not planned on coming down the hill that expeditiously.

"I don't think this was necessary," came a criticizing voice from above her. "There were no air patrols nearby."

"Snowy..." Lyra groaned, physically forcing her lungs to expand so she would have some air to talk with. "Just... shut up. Pretty please."

Her approach towards the château was pretty good for an ad-hoc plan. There was absolutely no-one on their side of the ridge, making the snow and her own limping her worst enemies... and her clothing, once the blanket she wore under her torn jacket started to act like a sponge.

Then came bad luck, in the shape of a pegasus flying overhead. Lyra had no idea how she didn't think of something like that happening, but she still had to come up with something in a split second.

The solution was really simple. She threw herself into the snow, disappearing completely into the frozen sea of white; Snowy acted as her lookout, the windigo telling her when the air was clear. There was no telling if those pegasi were actually the viscount's goons or not, but it was best to play it safe.

"I don't remember this building," Snowy turned to a different subject and glanced around, scanning her environment quite carefully. "Actually, I can't recall any of these things. Master wasn't kidding when she said this place changed a lot."

Lyra didn't care one bit about that remark. Of course the landscape would have changed over a few centuries, duh! She had even told the windigo how this Equestria was not the one it had known.

Ignoring those silly questions, she moved to more important matters instead. She needed to cool down. After having nearly frozen to death, she tried to dress as warm as possible, augmenting her torn jacket with a blanket underneath; but as it turned out, limping through the snow in the middle of the day was more than enough to keep her warm on its own. She was drenched, her whole coat dripping water; partly her own sweat and partly the molten snow the blanket had absorbed.

She tore her jacket open - the zipper had broken when she had put the thing on that morning - and yanked the blanket off from her as well. The cold air brushed against her wet fur right away, and she responded to the sensation with a raspy but satisfied inhale.

"What's that big black thing there?" Snowy motioned with her head.

Dragging her wet mane over the thin layer of slushy snow, Lyra turned in the indicated direction.

"A train," she squinted at the black locomotive.

"Looks pretty big," Snowy cocked her head to the side, her crimson eyes measuring up the object. "Master should avoid that thing. It looks dangerous."

"Silly windigo," Lyra giggled at her servant's expense. "That's... pretty safe. I came here in that, in fact..."

Snowy's eyes widened a bit, and her jaw dropped.

"Master can travel with that? Amazing! What a strange new world..."

"Not only me... anypony can..." Lyra wiped the sweat off her head before it dripped into her eyes. Then an idea struck her, courtesy of her own words echoing in her head.

Taking a better look, she saw no movement around the vehicle. It was a lucky break of untold proportions; she would have assumed that the train would be guarded by at least a few goons - not to mention the mechanics who took care of the repairs and refuelling. Somehow none of them were present, however. That meant that she was free to move... as long as she did so before unwanted eyes showed up.

They must need SOME supplies for the passengers. There has to be something in there!

"Snowy," Lyra muttered as she rolled onto her belly and rose to a shaky stand. "Go there and... and take a look. I, uh... I need to get into the building there. The... the one behind the... the train. The one with... huge windows."

"Understood," Snowy broke off right away, disappearing into the terminal building on short order.

While waiting for her scouting party to return, Lyra freed her hooves from her tattered clothing. She also took care to inspect her bandages in the process. Frowning at the sight, she was pretty sure she would need to replace them soon; the white colour already acquired a strong hue of red, looking ready to be bled through.

No wonder that wound still hurt.

Lyra acknowledged her situation with a sombre shake of her head. There was nothing she could do in the middle of open ground though. She grabbed onto her torn rags and dragged herself towards the locomotive, praying to the Sun Princess that her luck would hold out.





"This isn't something Master should do," Snowy cringed with audible displeasure.

Lyra wasn't receptive to such objections; she was too busy enjoying the bottle of mineral water for that. It was the third one she had downed in one go, and she only stopped because she was afraid she might burst if she drank any more. Just to make her feelings clear though, she flung the empty bottle at her ghostly servant. The clear-glass bottle sailed through the unamused windigo and hit the wall, bouncing onto the floor with a clang.

Lyra had no idea who forgot to lock the supply room, but that pony became her newest friend in absentia. True to its name, the seven-by-seven metre room was where the train's supplies were kept. Signs, mechanical gizmos, pipes, chains, sheets of metal; but even the uniforms for the crew or the food they would refill the dining car with. To a starving pony who only had rags left, that lowly supply closet was the closest thing to a dream having come true.

It didn't matter if the water or if the pre-packaged meals were both just as lukewarm as the station's air. Lyra tore into them like a vicious animal, eating and drinking whatever got in her way. It was borderline strange; she had no idea when she enjoyed things like ordinary grass salad so much. She didn't even care that it had no dressing.

"This is stealing," Snowy mumbled under her nose, fully expecting her comment to go ignored just as the previous dozen did.

"Ya. Stealin' fom' a muhdahah," Lyra mumbled as she stuffed her face full with some peanuts. She had opened that package way too greedily; it tore in half and salty peanuts bounced around her hooves. She shrugged at the sight and shoved the rest into her mouth without missing a beat.

Good enough.

"That makes it excusable?" Snowy cocked her head to the side and appeared quite confused. "Last I knew, stealing from a noble carried pretty hefty punishments... and this is the viscount's property. I would hate to see Master get hanged."

"Yeah, because he's totally not out for my blood already anyway," Lyra gulped the last of the peanuts down and hobbled to a larger locker. She tore the door open and made a smirk; two dozens of black overalls greeted her. "Snowy, I'm going to get changed. Go out and be on the lookout, m'kay?"

"Affirmative, Master," the windigo made a token bow and backed out from the room.

"Told you to stop calling me that," Lyra grumbled under her nose and yanked an overall from the shelf. It was made from thick cotton, designed for machinists who shovelled coal and dealt with hot furnaces in general. As good as anything else, as far as Lyra cared. As long as it allowed her to move around freely, she could accept any disguise. She swiped a white hard hat from the top shelf and jammed it onto her head, pulling the brim until it knocked against her horn. It wasn't as good as a proper mask, but it went with her chosen costume; her face should have also remained hidden as long as she kept her head down. She finished the preparations by taking a duffel bag and throwing her old and battered attire inside, followed by two unopened bottles of water and some bags of peanuts.

She zipped the bag closed and threw it over her back with her magic. The wound in her right shoulder felt worse by the minute as she hobbled to the door; she attributed that to her other pains subsiding, bringing her most serious injury into undivided spotlight.

I can't wait to be home again, Lyra clenched her teeth as she leaned against the door. It was open just barely, the light from the outside filtering through a thin slit. Just grab Bon and high-tail it out of here. Yeah, we're gonna' be home by tomorrow.

"Snowy?" she whispered and glued her ear to the door's cold metal.

"All clear," came the answer. "This... what did Master call it? Train station? It's completely deserted. Almost eerie."

How does a ghost monster living in the frozen hills find an empty building eerie? Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows, but then let go of that thought. She pushed the door open with a grunt and left the supply room. Once outside she closed the door with outmost care - she could do without making loud noises - and then shuffled down the corridor, heading towards the larger wooden door at the very end.

That door took her back to the waiting area. If she made it out of that place, then she could make her way into the inner château no problem.

All in all, things were going a lot more smooth than she feared they would. 

Lyra Heartstrings, master class infiltrator, she made a smirk. She was so good, she always kept surprising even herself.

The corridor was really deserted, but unlike her windigo, Lyra was not worried whatsoever. The whole corridor was supposed to be off-grounds to civilians, so of course there wouldn't be many milling around in there. Even she wouldn't have gone in there if she didn't have a substantial reason to do so... it wasn't exactly a welcoming spot, even beyond the 'KEEP OUT' signs. There was a serious lack of windows, so the air was mouldy and thick with a sour smoke; it was also pretty gloomy with the dim lighting, the sole source of lights being the flickering torches on the wall. It was really different from the airy and sparkling waiting hall where the tourists arrived and gathered.

She was quite familiar with the contrast between the immaculate front and run-down back. She had already seen such countless times.

It's like the backstage in any theatre.

"I must offer my humblest apology," Snowy turned a crimson eye to Lyra. "I underestimated Master. I did not expect Master to be versed in the teachings of Sabbah."

"Whah? What... are you even talking about?" Lyra groaned and dragged her right hoof on the polished concrete floor. She didn't have much patience for the ramblings of the stupid ghost.

"Oh, I know Master's not supposed to talk about him. I am no part of the order though, so I can!" Snowy chattered absent-mindedly. "I am talking of the Hashshashin, of course. The offspring of the previous Master kept a close eye on them. I think he may have crossed them a few times... he was pretty paranoid about them."

"Hashashin? You mean... assassin? Wait, ME?!" Lyra froze in place and gave the ghost a piercing stare. "Oh heck no! I'm a perfectly fine and normal pony! Why would you even think that?"

She really was. The most dangerous thing she had ever done was dropping her lunch box onto somepony during a rehearsal.

"Well, Master seems to be pretty adept at sneaking into places and raiding supplies," Snowy stopped and turned back towards her dumbstruck master. "It's evident that Master is a lot more experienced in this field than I expected. I am confident I'll be able to pick up the pace rather quickly, though. I would hate to remain a liability."

Lyra wasn't sure how to answer to that one. Her face went through multiple expressions under the cover of her white hard hat, finally settling to one that was a little shocked and mostly surprised.

She would have been outraged had the accusation not had some merit. She did break into a train station, after all; and she had gone through a supply closet as if she was raiding other ponies' belongings day and night. She has also evaded her pursuers for more than a day, and was poised to get into the château without anypony knowing she was around.

All nice and sneaky-like.

That hardly made her an assassin though. 

Her successes were born out of luck; she kept reminding herself of that fact. Only luck kept her from being discovered in the shack yesterday; and her lucky split-second decision saved her from the patrolling pegasi that morning. It would have only taken a singular pony to spot her limping around the train station, too. And she never, DEFINITELY never would have thought about breaking into somepony else's room with the intent to steal.

"I'm not some shady character," she brushed the suggestion aside and hobbled along the corridor. She couldn't place any weight on her right hoof, so she had to do small bunny-hops. A thoroughly embarrassing way of moving, but also one very effective at not stressing her injury further. "I'm just a musician. That's all."

"Strange. Where did Master pick up these skills, then?" Snowy dashed to the door, traversing the entire length of the corridor in one fluid motion.

Lyra eyed the ghost with barely contained envy: covering the same distance would take her almost a minute.

"I've just got some quick wits," she shrugged, not willing to attribute her success to luck. Not to that show-off ghost who insisted on calling her 'Master' despite her repeated protests.

"New Master is quite unlike the old one," Snowy eyed Lyra, patiently waiting for the pony to struggle herself to the door. "Old Master wouldn't have crossed two sticks if he wasn't sure of the outcome. That's why he was always alone, I think. He always grumbled on ponies being unpredictable... like how every servant claimed to know him despite him never having seen them. Though truth be told, even I found that a little odd..."

"He was simply crazy," Lyra hissed and pushed her wounded side against the wall really gently. She needed a quick breather. She wasn't running out of stamina just yet, but the lack of sleep and constant struggles were wearing her out. She had never been pushed so far before, and she was unprepared to meet such demands.

"The usual method?" Snowy turned to the door and eyed it intently. She didn't go through it though; she couldn't. Despite looking like a ghost, she was unable to actually move through physical objects. Only once Lyra had cracked the doors open a little bit could the windigo pass through and take a look.

Still breathing heavily, Lyra paid her ghostly servant a nod. She lunged forward and placed her forehead against the door. Her muscles flexed and the door creaked, cracking open just barely; already enough for Snowy. The ghostly form of the windigo moved to the opening - no thicker than a hair's breadth - and flowed through like a sentient piece of blue mist. 

All right... so she can be really handy at times, Lyra mused while forcibly trying to calm her breathing. If she wanted to pass for an actual machinist, she couldn't be seen panting as if she had just ran a marathon. She'd also need to walk like everypony else did.

As she remembered, the train station wasn't that terribly far from the château's entrance; a little over a kilometre. She should be able to force herself into walking regularly for that long. She had been quite mindful of the wound so far... it should permit her that much. Besides, being careful about her health would matter very little if she got caught.

Bon, the things I do for you... she cringed at the pain she expected to endure. Then her lips curled into a wry smile and she made a quick correction to that self-pitying thought. For us, I mean.

"All clear," came Snowy's voice from the other side of the door, and Lyra pushed the obstacle out of her way.

Show time!





It was in the middle of the afternoon, according to the huge clock in the train station's waiting hall. That rather surprised Lyra; her journey from the warming shack to the Dancing Lights had taken her more than a half day. She wasn't measuring time when she was skiing out there, but she was sure it didn't take her more than half an hour... if that much.

Clenching her teeth at the disappointing development, she headed toward the large oak doors, the exit of the building. She wanted to hurry. The bandage she had put onto her wound held, but did ever so little once she put any kind of stress onto the damaged tissues. Every step she took was a cold knife stabbing her in her shoulder, and she wasn't sure how far she could move before she would just give up and keel over. Determination was a powerful force, but one that was also prone to leaving her without much forewarning. She could have hobbled along, move in a way that didn't hurt; but the more rational part of her mind objected to any such ideas.

The train station's waiting hall was a huge and beautifully designed area, the white rocks carved into all sorts of arches and curved shapes. It looked real fancy and offered a thousand hiding spots for random passer-bys or guards. Each and every one of those being potential threats to her cover, should they see her out of character. So far the area proved empty, but she wouldn't just put her fate square into the hooves of luck. Fortuna may have spared her life so far, but that was no guarantee - not even for the close future.

She left another arch behind. She also passed a white-marble reproduction of some classic statue and a few red-gold banners, but those barely registered with her. The pain from her wound and the anxiety left ever so little room for more complex thoughts. Soon enough only the exits were left in her gaze, and she was only counting the steps until she reached them. Everything else was grey and blurry, unfocused and out of mind.

Soon she would be out in the street, passing the service buildings and moving towards the Dancing Lights itself.

"Hey, you!"

Snowy perked her ghostly ears up and turned to a pony in light-orange jacket, the source of the noise. Lyra completely ignored the yell, however.

"I said something, hey! You there, machinist! Stop!"

The noise passed through Lyra's ears without hitting any part of her conscious. She lowered her right hoof onto the marble floor and cringed in anticipation; then pain flooded her as she placed her weight onto the leg, the raw wound in her shoulder objecting to the stress.

Just a little more, she reassured herself. Just a little more and I'm out of here. It's cold outside, it should hurt less out there. It's easier after that. Just a little more.

That little more got pushed a little further away when a pair of crimson eyes popped up in front of her, obscuring the aged oak doors from her.

"Snowy...!" Lyra gasped and hissed, coming to a wobbling stop. She could have passed through her appointed servant without breaking a sweat - had she not forgotten that the windigo was just a ghost.

"Master, wouldn't it be wise to heed that call?" Snowy motioned with her head towards the pony in the orange jacket. Lyra picked up on the hint and finally spotted the colt herself, just as he caught up to her.

It wasn't a fair race, four good legs chasing three.

"I said STOP!" the colt in orange jacket grumbled and stepped in front of Lyra, moving through Snowy's figure as one walks through a cloud of light mist. "Are you deaf or something?!"

Lyra shuddered; not at the voice but at the icy numbness griping her entire right side. She also lowered her head and stared at the floor. The other pony may have understood that as some display of guilt or shame; but that was just some bonus, as Lyra's aim was to hide her face under the hard hat.

"I... am sorry..." she mumbled, trying her best at suppressing her shallow gasps and coming up with excuses on the fly. "Deaf... yea', kinda. You know, trains are... ugh, you know, loud? Very loud."

"Oh, errr- I didn't know! I certainly didn't mean to offend you," the colt took a hasty stap backwards and glanced away. "I only wanted to tell you to get your firepony, ASAP."

"Fire... pony..." Lyra's became glassy as she failed to realize how that wasn't a name. 

"Careful! That may be Master's co-worker!" Snowy rushed to her master's aid, having sensed the danger. "Old Master employed a lot of those. They were the ones who shoveled coal into the furnaces."

"Oh! Firepony... yes siree, I can do..." Lyra carried on. She may have been sickly, but she was still well enough to keep her act straight. "Why though? I'm not... not gonna' be on the train. Wasn't planning to... see, I'm on leave..."

"Oh, I do know you're not the scheduled crew. We've found those bastards in the dining car, next to four open bottles of wine," the colt rolled his eyes and clapped his hoof against the nearby wall. Angrily. "Can't allow drunken maschinists to drive a train away from here! So you're taking their place. That's what you backup crews are for, aren't you?"

Lyra had no idea when and how she got nominated into being a backup crew, but she didn't work herself up over such turn of events. She was still more concerned for Bon and her own well-being, for example.

"Can do. Can do..." she grit her teeth and held a strange sensation back with a gulp. She wasn't sure but she felt like throwing up; an action that wouldn't mesh well with her current disguise. "I just... need to go back... and grab my stuff. Y'know, the lodge... my room... I need to..."

"Of course you do," the colt paid her a nod and rubbed his eyes. "Go grab your whatever and get back here on the double. We would prefer the train checked and prepared by a sober crew, and you've got less than two hours for that. Departing late isn't an option."

"Right," Lyra groaned and resumed her walk, moving past the colt and his orange jacket. Despite the physical pain, she was in elevated spirits; she got a very good excuse she could throw at anypony asking what she was doing, moving around the Dancing Lights in a machinists' grab.

Thanks. You still owe me a lot after that miserable yesterday though, she reminded Fortuna, just in case.





The Dancing Lights had always been a defensive position first and foremost; even its change from a fortress to a ski resort couldn't alter that trait. Thick walls protected the inner castle and the nearby structures - barracks, armouries, a smaller hospital, storehouses and other buildings necessary for supporting a small population, such as a large bakery. Self-sufficiency was highly beneficial when that remote spot of Equestria had to stand tall and threaten any enemy. Indeed, the Dancing Lights never came under siege; and nopony would have been crazy enough to attempt such a feat either. The purpose of the fortification was just to be a thorn, a disruptive presence that couldn't be attacked head on and needed to be planned around.

One could say all the defensive fortifications were solely to that purpose, but it was hardly more evident with any other than the Dancing Lights.

The similarities didn't end there either; those sturdy walls had become a hindrance as time passed. Most cities of Equestria had outgrown their armoured shells and spilled their populace onto the nearby lands, shedding the unnecessary walls and fortifications the same way bugs leave their discarded shells behind. The Dancing Lights didn't have that option; an unfortunate reality that hurt the small settlement as much as the harsh environment did. Construction outside the protective walls was forbidden for a very long time, making the inside of the castle more and more cramped until the whole fortress looked like one huge building. A building straight out of an architect's nightmare. All the different structures had been enlarged and improved without any overarching plan, resulting in a mess of multi-story towers divided by thin, zig-zaggy and often nonsensical alleys.

Trotting down such an alleyway as she fought the increasingly dizzying waves of nausea, that strange tale jumped into Lyra's head. She must have heard it from Bon; she surely wouldn't have taken the effort to actually grab a history book of such a pointless landmark. Squinting with an eye as she forced her right leg to proper walk, she forced herself to recall every detail possible. She had to occupy herself with something. The pain was overwhelming the moment her mind became unoccupied, and she was really not into falling unconscious on the cobblestoned street.

"This place sure has changed a lot," Snowy ran her gaze down the tall houses on the sides of the narrow alley. "Master, I don't think I can actually guide you in here. Nothing is familiar to me."

"S'ok," Lyra hissed. A particular step went worse than the rest and she stumbled. Only a bright-green tiled house front stopped her fall, her black overall rubbing against the smooth ceramic tiles. The duffel bag landed at her hooves with a faint thud; her unicorn magic had failed the moment she lost her focus.

It was still one of the better ways to stop. Two ponies popped out of nowhere and walked toward her, both carrying some colourful skis on their backs. They grinned at Lyra and paid her the customary nods; she only mumbled something unintelligible in turn and tipped her hard hat with her right leg. She needed the left to keep herself upright. The two tourists didn't pay her much attention; they went back to chatting between themselves, walking past what they assumed to be a train mechanic without batting an eye.

"I am very proud to be serving under Master," Snowy eyed the pair of ponies as they disappeared around a corner. "The ease with which Master penetrates this castle would make Sabbah proud! Master picked a very ingenious disguise... nopony has even suspected us so far."

"S' jus' a lil' walk more," Lyra dismissed some worries, replying to lines she imagined hearing. She didn't speak as much as gurgled, breathing in and talking at the same time. It was so difficult to move, to breathe; more so to appear decent and to blend in, even with luck finally on her side.

It still wasn't difficult enough though. She wasn't thinking about giving up. It took way more to beat her into submission.

I'm going to burn all my music sheets if I let that two-faced blue-blood prick mess with us any longer! 

Saliva dripped onto the slushy tiles beneath her hooves, the thick ropes of the duffel bag between her teeth. A blast of hot air left her nostrils and she staggered onwards.

Her amber eyes were set on the third opening to her right. She would walk down that street and take a turn to the left... where she would enter the inner castle. The actual château.

Dragging the olive bag in the slush as her legs took their unsteady steps, Lyra found herself longing for her greatest performance to begin.

Sweet Celestia, all this walking around makes me feel dizzy...





"Sir!"

Her head pointed towards the red carpet on the floor, Lyra finally left the second set of glass doors behind. She wasn't sure if she had felt so humiliated in her life before. The odd feeling of cold numbness, her growing dizziness and air-headedness had formed an unholy alliance, their sole aim to make her look like a complete fool. She had bumbled into the outer door three times. That was followed up by her managing to get herself locked into the small space between the two doors, struggling for half a minute before she remembered to open the second one.

That mishap went beyond Lyra's critical threshold of embarrassment. It was such a burn on her ego that it penetrated the numbness gripping her mind. She wanted nothing else but to get away - drag herself to the stairs. There couldn't have been anypony watching her there. Not like the hall wasn't empty either, all the guests being out in the mountains.

"SIR!"

"Sir...? How quaint, I thought Master was a Miss. At the same time, that receptionist would like to have a word with us no doubt," Snowy motioned at the pony yelling and waving from behind the counter. "Master is being awfully absent-minded as of late. A little attention if I may?"

Lyra was aware of being yelled at. She had been trying to ignore it with moderate success. It was tucked away in the back of her head, beckoning her beneath the many layers of shame. That bothersome windigo just had to join into nagging her, too...

Venting her frustration with a sigh, she stopped and turned to the receptionist. She let go of the duffel bag and licked her dry lips; her magic had become quite unreliable as fatigue set in, so she had to fall back to using her teeth. The bag fell onto the red carpet with a faint cling, the bottles of mineral water managing to find each other. It was such a subtle sound - but in the quiet tranquil of the empty château-lodge, even such little things seemed out of place. 

It easily drew Lyra's attention there, setting off a chain reaction. The stream of mismatching details never seemed to stop. The dirty olive bag lying on the nice red carpet, her own slushy-muddy hooves, the black overall she had stained by rubbing against the numerous houses and lampposts...

Ugh. I'm making a mess.

She made a grin and berated herself once more. She couldn't help but feel even more foolish for having such notions. They just wouldn't leave her alone, no matter how focused she tried to remain. It just wasn't like her, acting so careless.

"Sir?" the receptionist tried for a third time. She sounded uncertain but optimistic, the weird pony in black overalls finally having had turned toward her.

"What," Lyra broke her gaze from the duffel bag with a grunt. She kept her head low so the white hard hat could cover most of her features. She wouldn't have thought it to be such an effective tactic, but the mare behind the counter couldn't even tell her gender - so she might as well stick with what has worked.

"Sir, only registered guests are allowed into and beyond this hall," the receptionist stated with an indifferent tone.

"Am vis... visiting a friend," Lyra mumbled with a gulp. Courtesy of her sleepless night and having dragged a bag across town, her speech barely resembled her usual tone or style.

"We only accept visitors if they are accompanied by registered guests," the receptionist shook her head, her curly blue mane rocking around her neck. "I am afraid I can't just allow you in like this."

"I... uh... am payin' a surp... surprise visit," Lyra dished out, only flinching once or twice. Her jaws flexed involuntarily; her wound had grown beyond bothersome, affecting almost every part of her being. She was only some eighty stairs or so from Bon, though. 

I won't be stopped so close.

She sneaked a glance at Snowy. The windigo was standing right next to her, listening to the conversation intently. For a brief moment, Lyra entertained herself with the idea of sicking that ghostly servant on the receptionist, make her feel just cold enough to stop being so difficult. That would have been the fastest way to deal with the obstacle for sure...

Then the brief moment passed and Lyra regained some semblance of herself, discarding such ridiculous plans with haste. Nopony in their right minds would drop windigos onto the living. She felt unclean for even having toyed with the mere concept.

"Am... just visitin'... Bon. Room... four-oh-six," Lyra went with the alternate and more sensible approach of talking her way in. "Brought some pre... presents..."

A loud clang rose as she gave the duffel bag a generous kick, the water bottles almost breaking. She hoped that noise would distract the receptionist from the fact that the name 'Lyra Heartstrings' was also registered to that room... and how that very pony was standing here, just covered in black garments and throat hoarse from the ordeals she had been through.

A poor diversion covering for a paper-thin disguise, all in all.

"Ah, that checks out. Well, in that case I... I suppose I can have not seen you," the receptionist scratched her head, her eyes glued to the duffel bag. "Please moderate yourselves though. While customer satisfaction IS our goal, you aren't supposed to bring hard liquors into the rooms."

"Sure," Lyra made a nod and grabbed onto the duffel bag, dragging it towards the stairs.

"Master, I think you just made Bon look like she enjoyed the company of random strangers in her room," Snowy chattered as she caught up to Lyra. "Won't this be an issue?"

"No," Lyra hissed her brief answer. Bon had never fussed about whatever she said, and she was plenty sure her friend wouldn't change that habit just now either. In all actuality, she couldn't have been happier if what she said got both of them immediately thrown out of the hotel.

Placing a hoof on the lowest stair, she really doubted she would get that lucky. Then she willed herself into the first step up the stairs. It was a struggling effort on her part, complete with a wave of shivers that ran down her spine.

Ugh! Lyra yanked the duffel bag ahead of her, her clenched teeth almost tearing the ropes. First steps are always the hardest, right? Am I glad there are only sevenity-nine to go...






She had given up on walking normally around the twentieth stair. Using her damaged leg was a difficult endeavour even on flat ground, a hardship she had only endured because of the disguise she tried to maintain. Moving up the stairs was a whole different situation, however. There was nopony to see her in the thin corridor spiralling upwards and straining her shoulder was making her feel all kinds of funny. It was only natural to use a more comfortable way of movement instead; so she lifted both her front legs into the air and pushed her side to the wall, balancing on her hind hooves as she made her way up.

She must have been a ridiculous sight - and she would have even cared were she not feeling so vindicated.

Haaa... so where are you idiots now, saying I'd never need to walk on two?!

If only she could move like that in the streets as well. The lack of pressure on her wounded leg did her wonders; the icy pain subsided to a dull throbbing. She was fairly sure she would become an attraction had she tried anything like that in the public, however...

"Quite the trick Master pulled!" Snowy applauded the idea and followed suit. She succeeded on the very first try, much to Lyra's chagrin; she had put real effort into learning to balance on only two hooves.

Stupid weightless ghost.

She didn't waste her breath on berating the windigo. Her goal was the door at the top of the stairs. Making Snowy apologize for besting her at her own game didn't get her any closer to that. She was free to grumble about it inside her head, though.

She stumbled onwards until the stairs turned. She couldn't defeat her pitiful momentum quick enough and her hard hat banged on the rocky wall. Resting against the wall like a piece of log, she took a breather, panting loudly for a few seconds.

Another turn to the left, another ten stairs... followed by another door, this one to the third floor. Then another turn, another ten stairs...

She had never realized how far her room was from the ground floor.

These old castles should really come with lifts, Lyra shut her eyes and gulped. She kept feeling odd and could barely swallow; but she wasn't comfortable with drooling around, even in the confines of the stairway.

"Master looks like she could use a small break..."

Lyra popped her eyes open and promptly fell over; she was wholly unprepared for a windigo to be right in her face. She landed two stairs down with a heavy thud. That was shortly followed by a lighter bang as the duffel bag obediently copied her movement, almost smacking her in the head.

"...on the other hoof, maybe not breaking our momentum is also a good thing," Snowy cringed at the sight.

As the olive bag came to rest on the stair just below her head, Lyra found herself readily agreeing with that proposal.





She lost the duffel bag.

Lyra had no idea where that thing went. She was dragging it just a moment ago... then she had to lick her dried and swollen lips. Then it was gone.

Oh well.

At least she wasn't drooling over the place any more, now that she had no rope to hold onto. She switched to leaving hoofmarks and a trail instead. Something was dripping from her right leg, leaving faint marks on the floor carpet. That was annoying... but still less disconcerting than the increasing dizziness she had been battling since her last stop. Numerous those stains might have been, the cleaning crew would have nopony to complain to. She would be checking out soon, after all.

Very soon and very expeditiously.

She lost her balance and wobbled, her left hoof touching the ground with a thud soon after. She didn't waste time; she pushed herself back upright again, shuffling forward on her rears. She was looking for a door on the right in the second hallway, marked by the number 406.

"This doesn't look encouraging," Snowy resumed her incessant gloominess.

Just like the previous two dozen ones, that comment was also completely ignored by Lyra. She paid more attention to turning left in the hallway. Her efforts were of little use; she lost her balance in the process and fell over anyway. She reached for a close-looking door handle...

Despite her fears, she did manage to reach it. Her hoof pushed the handle down all the way; but her weight was more than the handle was supposed to handle. The small piece of metal began to dent and then came off clean with a sharp pang, leaving Lyra with no stops until her nose bounced back from the carpet.

That actually wasn't such a bad development.

It was nice to lie on the warm carpet. The material was a little rough and she couldn't call it soft; but it was better than anything she had felt in the last... last...

...how long has it been?

Her mind wasn't being really cooperative. She couldn't recall anything of her last few days. There was some snow, two pieces of red-painted wood, a green robed figure that lectured her on dreams... all kinds of weirdness.

She wasn't used to that. She had been performing quality music for refined audiences. A quaint and soft world hers used to be; she couldn't deal with the strange new reality beyond swimming with the tide.

Resting on the carpet, that tide was pushing her towards falling asleep. She was tired... and not just 'simply' tired either. She was exhausted like how she hardly ever had been before. She was no stranger to skipping sleep - some rehearsals would go into the night and even into the next day - but she had never pushed herself this hard before. Every fibre of her body and mind resisted that treatment, demanding her to remain horizontal and give in to the drowsiness.

Yeah, that's right... 

Even Bon let her sleep when she was so tired.

Bon...!

Lyra gathered the tattered remains of her strength and willed herself to move. She had forgotten amidst her efforts that she had come to rescue her friend. There was no way she could fall asleep in the corridor. She limped forward; even heard that stupid windigo mumble something, but she didn't care. Leaving a thicker streak of red stain on the carpet, she reached the door of their room. Lyra shifted her weight to her left - intact - leg and rose the right to push the handle; but her muscles were in disagreement over her own limits.

She tipped forward until her head came into contact with the door - in a rather loud manner.

Bang.

It wasn't a complete disaster though. She didn't drop back onto the floor; she had just enough will left to keep herself wedged semi-upright, her head pushing against the wood. It was a posture heavy on her neck; thank goodness she was only expecting to stay that way for a few moments at most.

"Open up already..." she muttered with her teeth clenched.

"Master, sorry for asking the same question over and over," Snowy wandered back into her vision. "But how do you know this Bon figure is here?"

Lyra popped an eye open and gave the windigo an angry glare. Such a supposition, Bon not being in their room! Utterly heretical. Of course she would be in there! As far as Bon knew, her best friend had been in an accident on the skiing lane and had gone missing for a full night and day. Where else would Bon be if not there, sick and worried and waiting for her return? What else could she be possibly doing, other than-

-other than searching for me, Lyra felt the realization hammer an ice-cold nail into her heart.

That was a pretty good possibility, actually.

I should have asked the receptionist if Bon's out or not, she closed her eyes and twisted her swollen lips, her mouth revealing a toothy grin. The thought of having had come so far for entirely nothing was a little too much to bear with a sane mind.

She might as well have tried to give it go, though. She felt herself drifting further and further away from being completely sane.

"Coming! Hold on for a moment!"

That voice had definitely come from the room; there was no doubt about that. The only issue Lyra had was deciding whether the voice was real, or just something coming from her mind. She hadn't been hallucinating so far, but she was reaching the point where she almost expected herself to start doing so. It would have only made sense.

Then the door flung inwards and disappeared from in front of her. Left without her support, Lyra stumbled into the room, blundering straight into a blue stallion.

"You're... you're...!" she muttered. She never finished that particular sentence as a hollow cackle overpowered her words, her mind finally snapping loose of concepts such as 'rationality'.

The only reason she didn't wind up back on the floor was that Flash Freeze caught her somehow, the noble demonstrating uncannily quick reflexes.
> 8 - Recover
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Master?"

The call reached out to Lyra through the thick veil of unconsciousness and stirred her awake. She cracked an eye open and promptly flinched. The light filtering into her pupil wasn't all that strong... but after a good few days of uninterrupted rest, she was much more used to the darkness.

Not that she could comprehend anything of that. She just shuddered at the piercing brightness.

"Master..."

It was that nagging voice again. Struggling to get her mind into gear, Lyra moved her eyes to the side, trying to find the source. Bothersome voices should have really bothered with introducing themselves before crashing her well-earned sleep.

"Oh well, still asleep I guess. Might as well grab another snack..."

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and sighed ever so faintly. Somepony had been awfully fast in giving up on her. It made her want to wake up even more, if nothing else than to ruin the snack break of that defeatist. She didn't get much help for the sabotage, though. Her pupils were still adjusting to the light, all she could see was whiteness everywhere; only some oddly shaped and blurry spots occupied parts. Then the blueish fleck moved and the brightness receded a notch, easing the pain on her eyes.

"Argh!"

Turning her amber eyes upwards, Lyra tried to focus on that new source of noise. It was definitely a different one and she didn't recognize it whatsoever. She was sure of that.

"What is it? Something happened?"

A third voice, again completely unknown to her.

So many ponies I don't know, Lyra closed her eyes and gulped dryly. It's like I'm in a party or something.

That certainly would have been a nice surprise, waking up to a party.

"The fireplace just went out again! Am I going to have to light it every hour now? I'm a nurse, not a janitor!"

"Right... that's strange. The previous shift also complained about that."

Nurse... Lyra raised one of her eyebrows. Either her party was held in some unconventional spot - or she hadn't been in any party whatsoever. The latter idea seemed more likely, and that didn't make her feel any better.

Sad face.

"Well, there you go! I keep telling that we should spend some money on THIS place as well, not just that lodge! But noooo, the infirmary isn't generating money, so why should they?! How are we supposed to take care of patients when we can't even get a FIRE IN THE FIREPLACE GOING?!"

"Easy there - easy! I'm sure it's nothing major. Probably just the chimney being blocked or some such. I will see that it gets swept clean."

"Actually, there's really no need to sweep, mister! This fire grows quite tasty so fast... I'm having a feast here!"

THAT voice Lyra recalled. It was that annoying, no-good windigo that had tagged along with her. She also recalled something about that creature and a fire she had tried to make herself. It was cold back then, real cold, and the flames kept going out...

She didn't want to be left in the cold again.

"Stop... stop that..." she commanded her windigo. She tried to issue the command properly, with a stern and even voice; but her throat was like the rest of her body, weak and only midway to waking up. She found herself sounding raspy and weak, her supposedly powerful lines almost as pitiful as if she was pleading.

Thank Celestia her audience didn't care for such breach of dramatic appropriateness.

"She's awake!" the nurse scrambled first. There was a tug on the bed and a larger, grey-ish spot blocked most of Lyra's vision. "She's definitely awake! She's looking at me right now... Miss? Can you tell me your name, please?"

Such a strange thing to ask for, Lyra raised her eyebrows even further.

"Lyra... Heartstrings," she complied anyway, simply on the base of not knowing any better alternative. Why would anypony ask for her name so hastily, though? Did this pony want an autograph or something? She sure wasn't giving any. Not while on vacation.

"Oh! Master's awake!" Snowy yelled in the background, her blue figure hopping onto the bed. Lyra pulled her hooves towards herself, avoiding the incoming object out of instinct. It took her conscious a little longer to realize how the windigo couldn't crash into her, on account of being a ghost and all that. "Master is finally awake! So many things happened while Master was out cold!"

"It's all right! It's all right, don't move! Don't move - you're all right, you're just fine," the nurse jumped into action herself, pinning Lyra against the bed with a firmly pressed hoof. "You're fine - just keep still, okay? You're in the infirmary... and I'm nurse Vanilla. You're in good hooves. How are you feeling, Miss Lyra?"

She had no idea why, but Lyra found the soothing tone doing wonders to her nerves. She eased up and relaxed, letting herself sink back into the bed sheet.

An infirmary, huh... she sighed with no small relief. She couldn't fully remember why, but it felt good knowing she got medical care.

"I'm fine," she made a barely noticeable smile, still trying to train her eyes on the nurse. The image did seem to focus, but only at a painfully slow pace. "Feeling... I'm a little... funny I guess."

"Funny!" the nurse scoffed. "Not really what I expected - but sure, let's roll with it. Miss Lyra, can you remember how you got in here? What can you recall?"

You're asking a lot of questions, Lyra groaned internally. She started thinking anyway; not because some random pony had demanded her life story, but because she was also interested.

She recalled a ski training, one which culminated into a meeting with FF. Then she headed home, but wound up following some reckless pony, straight into a forbidden area. Then the cave-in happened, then she met that weirdo calling herself the Source... then she had an almost fatal climb back to the shack where she narrowly avoided-

Lyra's eyes shot wide at that memory, her earlier comfort evaporating like the morning mist at noon. She may have lacked some of her mental faculties still, but she already understood how she was NOT meant to be treated by anypony in the Dancing Lights.

"Miss?" the nurse leaned closer to her, most likely alarmed by the startled reaction. "Miss Lyra, is there a problem?"

"I can recount anything Master wishes!" Snowy also joined in the conversation. "Master collapsed when we made it into her room! There were actually two ponies inside, and they got real panicky when they realized it was Master! All that shouting and screaming, they didn't even notice when I snacked on the torches. Mmmm, delicious oil torches."

So you helped me by... stuffing your face?! Lyra sighed again, much more dejectedly this time. She may have not read a single letter of that stupid contract, but she was increasingly sure that Source was a politician by trade. Nopony else could con innocents that well.

"Miss Lyra, can you tell me-" the nurse kept trying undaunted; but her voice had definitely grown more worried after having had received nothing for her previous two questions.

"I was practising on a slope... and I saw somepony leave the track," Lyra explained in her hoarse and weak voice. She took a break and used that to gulp; she needed the time to decide what details she should explain and which to 'forget' about. Even her numb mind understood how she couldn't say she didn't recall anything. She would be declared amnesiac on short order and wind up in that castle for who-knows-long... all for her recovery, of course. 

"Then the snow disappeared and I... and I fell into a hole," Lyra continued, slowly and careful that her mouth didn't run ahead of her mind too much. "That kind of hurt. Then I crawled out and back and... and that's all. I woke up here."

"There's more to it. Master was-" Snowy leaned closer to the bed-ridden pony, but fell silent when her master shook her head. 

Lyra wouldn't have minded hearing the extra details, actually. She was especially curious about what happened in the château's room after she fainted. Story-time had to be delayed as long as the nurse was still inspecting her, however.

"Hmm, hmm. I see," the nurse hit a pondering tone. "Crawled back, you say. How much you remember of that?"

That question raised all sorts of red flags in Lyra's head. It was difficult to think with her barely awake mind, but she could already tell how describing her journey would betray many details she really should have kept to herself.

"No," she bit onto her lip. "Nothing but a blur."

"I see. That's a pity," the nurse pony made a sad smile. It was the first gesture Lyra could make out on her face, courtesy of her eyes finally bumbling onto the right focal length. "See, you took a very odd path back. A very treacherous one, I mean! The search team found your trace yesterday, and they almost lost two colts on that slope. Good thing they were both pegasus, or else they might've broken their necks! Or worse. That side of the mountain is poorly mapped and quite steep."

A happy grin appeared on the corners of Lyra's mouth. Even when tied to some hospital bed, it was always nice to hear her enemies bowing to her achievements.

"It's quite the miracle you managed to come out of there in one piece," the nurse carried on and removed her hoof from Lyra, content in the belief that her patient wouldn't start moving around. "Anyhow, you seem pretty fluid and you can recall recent events, so that's reassuring. I'll just need to-"

"LYRA!"

The loud yell made the nurse flinch quite visibly. Snowy bore the advantage of being a ghost; she simply cocked her ears up and turned to the newcomer, mostly excited about the development. Lyra closed her eyes and nodded with a wry smirk, half expecting a tirade to be thrown at her head.

That was how Bon usually reacted to the results of her odd ideas, after all.

"Miss Bon, you can't just barge in here!" the nurse turned to the infirmary's newest occupant. "This pony just woke up! We need to make sure she's fine before she can receive visitors!"

"Just woke up?" Lyra squinted at the grey nurse. Her mind had been picking up pace and her body seemed to follow suit. Some parts faster than others; she could talk quite unimpeded. "You make it sound I slept pretty long... what happened? How long was I out?"

The nurse frowned and took a deep breath, visibly debating how much to reveal.

I thought patients had the right to know their own condition, Lyra mused at the strange reaction. 

"Two days," the nurse mumbled and gave Bon an angry glare, the beige earth pony walking past her without much care.

"Two days!" Lyra gawked, trying to raise one of her hooves off the bed. "No wonder I feel all sorts of crappy."

"I think that is more to do with Master's blood loss," Snowy offered another completely unneeded explanation, all with the cheerful glare puppy dogs make as they chew their owners' slippers to shreds. "I saw some ponies lug vials of red ooze around, muttering how Master was real lucky to have not bled dry already. Right before they stitched Master closed with a load of funny looking clamps, too."

Vials of red...? That's blood transfusion, isn't it? Lyra shuddered at the off-the-hoof remark. Goodness gracious, was I that messed up?

She had felt rather bad, but never had she once thought that she might have been that close to actually biting the dust. Not since she had escaped the cold by breaking into the shack. That her wound had been serious enough to do her in - that had never occurred to her. It had hurt and impeded her; she had only figured that much.

"See? She's cracking jokes," Bon came to a full stop at Lyra's bedside, next to the nurse. "You've checked more thoroughly than anypony in the last five years. She's fine."

"Every single pony we scoop from the slopes keep saying that," the nurse pointed out, accenting her message by blowing some hot air right into Bon's face. "And you know what? A good portion of them would be outright dead if we believed them. So let's stick to the protocol, shall we? You can stay if you want, Miss Bon; but I'm not going until I'm sure your daredevil friend's fine."

Bon made a few faint nods with her head, ceding the argument without any fight whatsoever; she even backed off a little, moving to the back of Lyra's bed without a word.

Of all the things she had been through, Lyra found that part to be the strangest. Or, well, one of the top five. Still, now that she had Bon close and watching over her, she felt a lot more relieved about her treatment. If only she could shoo that stupid windigo away without making herself look as if she was talking to thin air...





"Left pupil reacts nicely," the nurse smiled and packed the light away. Not a moment too soon, either - Lyra was about to cry blood if she had to stare into that thing for a second longer.

"So she's off the hook?" Bon sighed and raised an eyebrow. She hadn't talked much during the examination. She just chilled, her head resting on the end of the bed. She also looked really, really bored.

"If 'off the hook' means 'get the same visit by the on-duty doctor tomorrow' then yes, she's off the hook," the nurse groaned and yanked a clipboard from the side of the bed. "She may also need some painkillers for those stitches. And- oh for Celestia's sake, did the fire just go out again?"

Rolling her head to the side, Lyra saw Snowy looking all cheerful, standing right next to a sooty fireplace and a smouldering pack of logs. Not a single lick of flame anywhere, though. It took all of Lyra's self-control to just lie idly in her bed and not say a thing. Thinking angry thoughts was okay, though!

I'm so going to get a refund if I ever find that Source whoever again.

"You seriously need a better room," Bon chuckled with her eyes glued to the ceiling, avoiding any stray glance at the medical pony who had scorned her wishes a little while ago.

"Tell me something I don't know," the nurse ground her teeth and glanced around. She must have been looking for the janitor - too bad that pony had already given up at fixing the 'faulty' fireplace and had left some minutes ago.

"Something you don't know, hmm? Well, all the specialized treatment Lyra's getting at this point is bed rest... in a room which only differs from ours by the fireplace not working," Bon spoke with a corny, almost helpful-looking grin. Almost. "But that's so obvious that somepony as highly trained as you wouldn't miss it, Miss Vanilla. So I think there's really nothing I could tell you that you wouldn't know already, huh? Would you look at that."

The nurse reacted predictably and slammed the clipboard to the floor hard enough to make some papers tear away and float. At the same time, Lyra felt happy about the small tirade. It was real nice to see Bon's mind-tearing grumbling at work on somepony other than her. It made her feel less of a unique snowflake that got all the flak. As if the world was repaying her a little for all the chew-outs she got.

With all that having been said, she did kind of feel sorry for the poor nurse. She really understood what it was like, being on the receiving end.

Still better you than me, though.

"Very well," the nurse hissed through her clenched teeth. She also smiled - but that grin was enough to make Snowy take cover by crawling into the smouldering fireplace.

You know you're making an impression when you're scaring the windigos away, Lyra tried to sink into her bed sheet. There was no way she could; but she liked to think she was doing everything to get out of the verbal crossfire.

"I'm not paid enough for this. Whatever, it's your life! Just sign the papers here," the nurse scooped the clipboard from the floor, throwing it onto the bed roughly. "Voluntary discharge. You take all responsibility and whatever."

Lyra was surprised by the sheets of paper coming her way. The wooden back of the clipboard passed real low; so low that it tumbled on her nose and dropped right next to her head, a fact she only registered after she dared opening her eyes again.

"See, I knew we could come to an agreement!" Bon cooed in the most sarcastic voice possible.

Rolling her head to the left and staring at the clipboard in silence, Lyra couldn't help but reminiscence how similar that was to all her previous 'agreements' with Bon.





"Home, sweet home!" Bon yelled as she threw the door open. The thick brown wood moved with considerable speed and knocked against the room's white wall, banging loudly and swinging backward with only slightly lesser fury.

That didn't concern Bon much; she was already inside the room, storming through the doorway like a pouncing feline. It was more interesting to Lyra, who happened to get in the way. Only for a second though - she was back in the corridor the next moment, sitting on her back and wondering just what had punched her in the face.

She wasn't left alone too long. A windigo sat down next to her, the pair of crimson eyes alternating between Lyra and the closed door, apparently wondering what the pony was wondering about.

"Ouch," Lyra finally reacted, placing her right hoof on her nose. It hurt a little, but she was more perplexed than pained.

The pondering was cut short by the door opening again, a really confused earth pony staring at her.

"What are you doing out there?" Bon balked and shook her head, sending her curly mane flying all over the place. "Come on in already! There's nopony in here. Seriously, you're the worst."

She's such a nice friend, Lyra grinned so dryly that she almost felt her head dehydrate.

"Is that really one of Master's friends?" Snowy scratched her translucent head. "If so, I would hate to meet Master's enemies."

"She's not so bad. Usually," Lyra rolled her eyes and hobbled onwards renewed, right into their room. She couldn't adore the place as much as she had when she had seen it for the first time; despite all the decoration and cleanliness, the Dancing Lights didn't sit right with her any more. She had a vaguely defined but ever present sense of danger, fantasies of ambushes waiting in every alley and assailants sitting in the dark shadows. Nothing had helped; not even having Snowy making mad dashes around her path, inspecting every nook and cranny. It had become so out of hoof that she had refused to walk through a poorly lit alley; which, in turn, had proved to be the final straw to Bon, who had lost her temper at the game of paranoia.

They hadn't traded too many words after that, occasional bickering nonwithstanding.

The room was as Lyra remembered it, maybe a little messier. The floor, the carpet, the table in the middle of the room - those were all fine. So was her own bed; immaculate, just as the cleaning crew left it. It was Bon's side that looked... well, a little messy. Truly befitting somepony who hadn't slept well.

I wonder if that's related to your short temper, Lyra glanced at her friend, the beige earth pony yanking the drawer of her bed open with a grunt.

One way or the other, she was about to find that out. Among many other things.

"Stay out," Lyra whispered and moved through the doorway. She peeked back a little, making sure Snowy adhered to the order; then she closed the door behind her with a gentle kick. She wasn't sure what to make of the windigo. Its presence didn't really unnerve her; it wasn't some ice monster as far as she cared, but rather a bumbling pet, one that a weird dream shoved onto her back.

She wouldn't want any ice-ghost-pet overhear her most private conversations with Bon however, no matter how friendly it was. Some lines had to be drawn.

Not like any wild conversation threatened to erupt. Bon kept her mouth shut and so did she, moving to her bed in silence. 

It still hurt, moving around. Even after having received proper treatment, her right leg wasn't in a great condition. The skin pulled uncomfortably with every move and her shoulder pained whenever she tried to place any weight on it. She didn't wince or make faces, though; those were nothing compared to what she had endured in the past few days. It was more of a permanent annoyance, one she hoped to leave behind in short order.

Standing at the side of her bed, Lyra stopped investigating herself and used her magic to get the drawer at the bottom of the bed slide open... then stared blankly. Just as blankly as the wooden container was.

That wasn't really what she expected. She had thrashed a jacket, sure; but she was supposed to have a few spares... not to mention her other belongings, like the magazines she was planning to read.

"Hey!" she scratched her head and stumbled backwards, sitting down. Anything that took the load off her front legs was her favourite new hobby. "Where's all my stuff?"

"Al'eady packed," Bon barked back, her voice a bit distorted as her mouth was full of a bag's handle. "We're goin' home, 's soon's I finish mine."

It took a while for Lyra to find some answer to that. She wasn't really against the idea, to be honest. She was joyed at the idea of leaving those wretched mountains and their crazy noble behind. Only...

Being in a warm room, no longer actively threatened by anything... she felt kind of bad for her friend. Bon may have grumbled at her odd habits, but she was the pony who understood Lyra the best. And friends don't ruin each others' vacations, especially those they had planned for so long.

"Okay," Lyra sighed anxiously. She also turned and sneaked a glance at her friend. She wasn't fully prepared for an apology; but then again, she rarely ever had been any time before either. Apologies were the most difficult topics to her. "I'm... sorry. I know you were looking forward to this and..."

Bon stopped packing. She stared in front of her silently and let go of the bag, the blue textile falling back into the open drawer.

"What happened? What really happened?" she asked, mimicking Lyra in only turning her head to the smallest angle required. She didn't seem to be in the apologizing mood, though. "I've heard what you told the nurse and you know what? I'm not stupid. You didn't just wander into a hole and go crazy of hypothermia or whatever. You evaded everything out there - you, who has never been to a snowy place before! You broke into a train station for some snacks - you, who would have enough bits to afford a top dinner anywhere! And you came all the way to this room in a silly disguise! That's not what wounded, half-frozen, on-death's-doorstep ponies do. Not even crazies like you."

Lyra smirked to herself at that recount. She was sure not even the officials had believed her, but they had no choice but to accept her 'oh, I don't remember more' excuse. Bon, on the other hoof... she could always tell when Lyra was lying. It was an eerily accurate but rarely used skill, as they never kept secrets from each other in the first place.

"It was a trap," Lyra turned around fully. Bon followed the motion, the two of them staring each other in the eyes from the opposite sides of their room. "They set a trap and I fell for it, hook and sinker. Remember the amulet FF- ugh, not calling him FF any more. No way. So, eh, remember the amulet that silver-tongued, two-faced, no-good blue-blood gave me?"

"Sure I do. Caused me a lot of headache," Bon grimaced, but both of them knew that was just her surprise at the barrage of colourful adjectives. "What's that to do with anything though? He took it back when you were taken to the infirmary. Didn't bring you much luck, in the end."

"Quite the opposite," Lyra rolled her eyes, her gaze coming to a rest on the closed door. She couldn't see Snowy on the other side, but she was sure the windigo was sitting there like an obedient puppy, waiting to be let in. That or snuffing out all the torches on the corridor, the glutton. Lyra frowned at the possibility and shook her head, moving her amber gaze back to Bon. "That amulet... it's not normal. It saved me, sure; but that's barely scratching the surface! It can do all sorts of crazy things - summon ghosts, keep windigos in bind - ah, so many things you wouldn't believe!"

Judging by the raised eyebrows, Bon indeed did not believe. She kept eyeing Lyra for a second or two, making sure that wasn't some joke and that she heard everything right.

"So... why did the viscount give it to you?" she finally asked the question that bothered both of them. "If he has that kind of sealed magic in an amulet... why give it to a complete stranger? You haven't met him before, right?"

"Nope," Lyra shook her head with a definite motion. The move made the stitches her shoulder sting, but she started to grin anyway. What she wanted to say couldn't be delivered in any other fashion. "I think I became part of some experiment. I was supposed to wear that amulet and have an accident. Bon, I had to keep avoiding his goons all the way back here! And I heard them looking for the amulet... and... and... and, well, me. More like my corpse, really."

"No wonder he showed up here so fast," Bon's eyes narrowed. She put a hoof to her head and went into an absent-minded explanation. "I told the viscount there could be trouble when you didn't show up for dinner. I thought he took it really well. He simply told me not to worry and that you stayed out to practice some more; and that he would sortie ponies to search all the same. He only showed up again around midnight, telling me about a cave-in that almost got one of his geologists. He explained how they found blood at the scene but no trails of blood leaving, so they started combing through some old mine tunnels... and he started preparing me as well. You know, saying things like accidents happen and how your chances would go down if you weren't found in a few hours. Canned speeches like that."

No blood trails leaving, Lyra echoed that strange bit inside her mind. It may have been some inconsequential lie on the viscount's part; but she could also see how that may have been a crucial part of her successful escape. She must have been bleeding badly after having taken a girder to the side. Snowy had frozen the wound however; she could remember the windigo fretting about her master bleeding out.

Huh. Maybe she did save me, Lyra mulled over the small details she hadn't had much time to think about earlier. No, she put out that fire in the hut as well... and she guided me all the way back. She definitely saved me.

Lyra licked her lips and glanced back to the door with a heavy heart.

And I never even thanked her. Actually, I just locked her out of my room.

At that very moment, she felt like a pretty useless Master, all things considered.

"He kept coming back later, again and again. Always telling me how they hadn't found anything and how I should start getting used to the thought of you never coming back," Bon went on, her eyes closed and her hoof slowly massaging her temple. "I did think he gave up awfully quick on you. No, that wasn't it. It was that odd calmness he had. I mean, I understand nobles are used to diplomacy and acting in public. But for Celestia's sake - he was all over you just earlier that day! I could've believed him better if he took a few drinks or raged or... or something. But nope. Only a little anxiety. That was so odd. I remember thinking to myself, oh sweet Celestia, this colt was expecting this. That he knew something. There were problems with the place and he knew about them. That I... well, that I... that I brought you..."

"And here I was thinking, you just broke your vacation, you idiot!" Lyra cackled, doing her best to blunt the edge of the situation. An angry Bon was threatening and filled her with worries, yes; but she could never handle a sobbing Bon, and she was definitely not figuring that puzzle out in a lodge owned by a homicidal noble.  "Anyway, do you, eh... do you need help with that bag?"

"Nup," Bon turned back to the drawer. "Injured ponies should rest. I have no idea what came over me, heh! Where do I keep my brain these days..."

A bittersweet smile plastered across her face, Lyra focused her eyes on the blue bag. It was surrounded by an amber glow the next moment and lifted into the air without the slightest difficulty.

"I don't carry my horn on my shoulder," Lyra declared with much pride and a little scorning.

Bon looked back at her, made a smile and nodded faintly.





"Next train leaves in a hour and forty minutes," Bon hissed to herself as she watched a small heap of jackets float into the blue bag. "Sheesssh... that's gonna' be tight."

"I didn't get any of my legs amputated, you know!" Lyra glared at her friend. She had been enjoying the overflowing sympathy for a while, but being treated as if she was half-dead was grating her already. "I crossed a whole freaking hill, remember? So stop acting as if that little hop to the train station was a big deal."

"You walked all the way here, yes, and you almost died!" Bon threw her hooves into the air. "You've got a fresh wound and almost three dozen stitches in your side, so don't you dare even think about running to catch that train!"

"Yeah, much better to spend the night here, right?" Lyra rolled her eyes. A pair of toothbrushes followed her gaze, drawing a circle in the air. "There's no way that could put us into danger, nuh-uh!"

"I don't like it much myself either, okay? But there was a reason why you had to be lured to that desolate spot... uh," Bon watched her toothbrushes end their flight by plopping into her bag, disappearing in a pile of clothes. "Could you put my hygiene stuff into their own bag? I mean, I'm thankful and everything, but... anyway, where was I? Ah yeah, being murdered in our sleep. That'd make some major news, don't you think? I have no idea what shady business our dear viscount runs, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want the Dancing Lights to get shut down."

"Yeah, because murdering witnesses isn't the 101 of like, every thriller story," Lyra grumbled and yanked the toothbrushes free, stuffing them into a smaller bag inside the large one. "Bon, he knows that I know. I'm sure of it. I'm a liability. Do you think he would just take my honest word and let me go?"

"And just what would you tell anypony? That you fell into a hole and saw ghosts? Quick, call the press - a pony on the verge of death hallucinated things!" Bon made a face and threw her back against the wall with a deep sigh. "Lyra, seriously. You'd be going up against a noble with no evidence whatsoever. What would you say? That he's some crazy bastard who runs deadly experiments? Where are all the other victims, then? This place isn't famous for ponies just disappearing... the Royal Guard would be out in force if it was."

Lyra was not prepared to handle such doses of reality. She bit onto her lips and threw the last of Bon's winter clothes into the bag, so angrily that she almost expected them to catch fire spontaneously.

"No-one's going to believe you. No. One," Bon mumbled, then broke out a sombre smile as she turned to Lyra. "And that's a good thing, because I bet the viscount took that into account as well. You've already babbled about things, but that's okay... 'cause you're only a witness if anypony believed what you said. As things are, you disappearing would only lend that missing credence to your word."

Chewing on empty air, Lyra had no choice but to cede to that logic. Her gut instinct kept telling her how she was in danger, but Bon's explanation seemed to account for everything. She had never regretted listening to her friend before either.

"So we pack everything together, have a breakfast with all the other guests around, check out, get some of our bits back... then catch the train back home," Bon rubbed her eyes and ran her hooves down her mane. "No point in running like crazy now that you're safely back here."

"Well, what can I say? You always know what you're doing. I'm sold," Lyra shrugged. It was a reflexive move and a really bad idea, as her aching shoulder could readily attest. She flinched, but wasn't pained enough to not crack a quick joke. "Let me tell you right now though: if we get woken up by a bunch of assassins tonight, remember that I have so called it."

Bon burst into a laughter. It was short and a little hollow, but it was a something that Lyra really needed to hear already.

Quickly followed by something she really didn't.

"Master!" Snowy yelled from the outside. The windigo was still out in the corridor - despite Lyra's best intentions and regrets, her conversation with Bon had quickly made her forget about her ghostly pet. "There's somepony coming your way."

Lyra was faced with an odd conundrum. She could have asked aloud what Snowy saw; but that would have led to all sorts of funny questions from Bon, as she hadn't explained the windigo to her friend yet. Or she could have waited and hoped Snowy would have the brains to tell such details on her own.

I did kind of think I should trust that monster more... Lyra bit onto her lip and went with idea number two, acting as if she hadn't heard anything.

"It's that weird stallion that was with your friend when you came into the room before. She called him Flash Freeze, I think?" Snowy carried on, delivering the news with utter calmness.

Too bad that calmness didn't stick onto Lyra. She could feel the blood freezing in her veins, her remaining strength only proving sufficient for a gulp.

He better be alone, her mind raced on the edge of panic. Of course he's alone, haha! Snowy would surely mention if he brought a band with him.

"Uh... you all right?" Bon turned to Lyra, the old friend quickly sensing her distress. "Is it your shoulder? I told you not to overdo it.Take a rest and-"

A loud bang on the door quenched the rest of her sentence.

"Greetings miladies! I hope I am not barging in on you at an inappropriate time, but I do believe we have an urgent matter to discuss. So if you could spare a second..."

Lyra and Bon both looked at the door, then exchanged a quick glance at each other.

"What's him doing here all of a sudden?" Bon murmured under her nose and shook her head. "Whatever... let him in, Lyra. Keep an eye on him, though."

Lyra wasn't entirely enticed by the idea, but she understood how a door wouldn't be a lasting barrier against the owner of the whole place. She zipped the bag closed and turned to the door, the handle glowing with her amber magic.

"Come in!" she yelled and moved the handle down. The command was decidedly ambiguous; perhaps overly so. Mid-way into opening the door she got worried that her words would go over the head of the intended recipient. "There's no need to stay out there, so just come in."

The brief clarification got a puzzled glance from Bon, but she didn't seem to pay it any further attention. Both ponies' eyes were focused on the open door and the blue stallion behind it.

"Nice to see you again, viscount," Bon exclaimed so coldly that Lyra half expected her breath to become visible.

She didn't even greet Flash Freeze. It may have been rude, but she really saw no reason to do so. Besides, she was busy rooting for Snowy to have heard her - and her anxiety didn't let up until she saw the windigo sneak into the room.

Nopony else came through, leaving the room with two commoners, one noble and one ice-ghost.

Three against one, Lyra licked her lips overtly. Bring whatever you've got, you back-stabbing bastard. I'm keeping my eye on you.

That felt doubly true after Snowy had the bright idea to stop right next to Flash Freeze, eyeing the noble from a mere few inches.





"Miss Bon, Miss Lyra," Flash Freeze paid token bows to the occupants of the room. "I can hardly express how good it is to see both of you in good health again."

Sitting at the open drawer of the bed, Lyra shifted back and forth. She was worried about so many things. About the viscount suddenly showing up, about what his plans regarding her were, about his reaction to her continued survival despite said plans, about him noting her visible nervousness...

There was no way she could contain all that anxiety and not show signs. She tried to appear calm, to defeat the urge to fiddle; but she couldn't completely stop all the involuntary movements. Leaning forward and swinging back was still better than fiddling with her hooves.

"Yeah, yeah. We're overjoyed to see your impeccably timed arrival. So what brings you here?" Bon sighed. She looked quite the opposite of Lyra, her figure still and only radiating tiredness in general.

You were much more energetic just a little while ago, Lyra thought to herself. That was an act, she was sure of that; and she really, really envied the impudent laxness with which Bon played her roles. At certain points Bon had acted so well that she had become almost frightening - and had also made Lyra wonder why her friend had never gotten into the world of theatre.

"Oh, nothing much, really. Just checking on somepony who injured herself on my estate," Flash Freeze gave Bon a warm smile. He arrived to the small table in the middle of the room and inspected the clean surface, the motion followed by a faint clinging. It must had been intentional, drawing the bystanders' attention to the amulet he wore.

Lyra gulped and felt her lips trembling at the sight.

A delicate silver amulet with a dead-black rock in the middle was hanging from the viscount's neck.

The very thing his goons were looking for on the eve of the 'accident'.

"Don't you worry about us," Bon frowned and narrowed her eyes, her weary expression mixing up with hints of anger. "We're fine and dandy. Not going to sue you or anything."

"Oh, that! I had very little concerns regarding that," Flash Freeze chuckled and brushed his white mane back into place. "You may have forgotten Miss, but you signed waivers shortly after you arrived here. Unless some criminal negligence is proven, the Dancing Lights is not to be held responsible for any accidents out there."

"Lyra fell into a collapsing mineshaft," Bon raised one of her eyebrows, throwing the sentence out there as if she was just wondering aloud.

"...which was way outside the marked safe areas, and which my colleague was also in the process of marking as dangerous," Flash Freeze made a sombre smile. "She also disregarded my colleague's orders to leave, if you may recall. Now, I believe this was just a most unfortunate accident; but even if I were to think otherwise, I believe we are the least to be blamed here."

Lyra stopped fiddling around and stared at the viscount with glassy eyes. That story was completely true; so true that she almost began doubting herself. She did decide on following that pony on a whim; even if the viscount had plans with her, he hardly could have counted on her ad-hoc decision.

Did I make this whole mess myself?

That was a really disturbing doubt to have. She had only wanted to help, after all; she had only seen a pony going where he wasn't supposed to go. Even if it had turned out to be nothing but a huge misunderstanding on her end, she had gone there with good intentions.

Clenching her teeth as subtlety as possible, Lyra chased the idea from her mind.

Come on you filly, you know better than this. Don't be swayed by him now.

"Hrmpfh. True, all too true. Well, that just reinforces my decision anyway," Bon shrugged, the list of facts not swaying her whatsoever. "Still, it's real surprising to see you here, viscount. I mean, you must have a real busy schedule, attending to all the issues of this huge estate!"

Flash Freeze blinked confusedly and cleared his throat. The sudden compliment came from the blue, and he wasn't sure how to react to it.

"Well... there is always work around the Dancing Lights. I never get any vacation, you see!" he stammered, smiling awkwardly. His brief laughter was absolutely forced, the tone so weak that it failed to suppress the clanging of the amulet hanging around his neck. "Not that I would need any! I would rather see this place busy than empty."

"I can relate to that. I'm a caretaker myself, always and without stop," Bon nodded heartily.

That off-the-hoof remark had a profound effect on Lyra. Despite the cyan fur covering her face, she could tell that she turned red.

"Oooh, that was pretty good. Master needs some cool for that burn?" Snowy joined the choir, picking the absolute worst moment to show some genuine awareness of the world around her. Lyra would have thrown something the windigo's way - harsh words if nothing else - but she couldn't really act like that. Not with Bon and the viscount being in her vicinity.

"That's why I can also understand why you could only come and meet us now, FF," Bon carried on, her voice utterly nonchalant and her gaze focused on the noble. "With so many things to do, it's only natural you couldn't check on Lyra when she was, you know, actually fighting for her life. You know, those last two days. When she was in the infirmary."

Lyra's mouth dropped a little. That was a pretty small bait and switch there, but it was done so masterfully that she could almost squee at the execution. She had to keep a serious face though, so she fought the urge to celebrate... and finally settled for a sly grin.

Even Snowy was left agape, the windigo staring at the noble with her mouth wide open.

"I... er... yes, I was... real busy," Flash Freeze spoke with the disjointness of a broken machine. "I... saw no reason to bother Miss Lyra or the doctors there. I trusted Miss Lyra would pull through. I mean... she came all the way back to this room! I thought..."

"Aww. That's real charming of you," Bon giggled and cocked her head to the side. "You can hide your vulnerable side so well, FF! See Lyra, he's acting like real macho just to impress you! But I can remember all the panic he was in, almost falling down the stairs to carry you to the infirmary. You were real worried there, weren't you?"

Flash Freeze gulped, a few drops of sweat rolling down his blue coat.

Bon was far from being done, however.

"You were so worried that you apparently forgot that I followed you all the way! Haha, I even heard your conversation with the doctor!" she pressed on relentlessly, twisting the verbal dagger in the noble's side without mercy. "Oh my! I just notice that you appear a little sickly, FF. Perhaps you need a little rest yourself? Working around the clock... all that stress must be getting to you. Don't worry, I understand your situation. Down to the smallest details."

Still smiling, Lyra gave a quick prayer to Celestia how she was firmly on the friendly side of Bon.

"Master has really scary friends!" Snowy gawked and took a hasty step away from Flash Freeze. "Threatening a noble like that...! Only the most courageous would dare that!"

Contrary to the windigo's anticipation, that reminder only served to make Lyra's sense of victory even sweeter. She understood that Bon was an equal-opportunity predator when she was angered, but she never thought she would get to witness Bon hammering a blue-blood into the floor - and now that she had, she enjoyed every single moment of it.

Flash Freeze didn't even try to retaliate. His face stiffened as all emotions left his expression. He straightened his neck and cleared his throat, loudly and formally.

"Well, yes. There was that indeed. ANYWAY!" he declared, brushing the topic aside as if nothing of importance had been spoken. Nobles like him didn't retreat or admit defeat - they just changed the subject. "I came here to see your well-being and to raise your attention to a formal issue."

"Formal issue?" Bon squinted at the viscount. She must have been surprised, but she kept her poker face on all the same; she gave no indication of her thoughts. 

Rising her left hoof and rubbing the bandages covering her right shoulder, Lyra watched her friend in utter disbelief. She had witnessed Bon negotiate many times, even on her own behalf; but she had never seen the earth pony so focused before.

"As I understand you took your friend out of care prematurely," Flash Freeze gave them a gentle reminder of how he ran everything around those parts. "Now, I understand why you would do that. I also have no objections to you leaving early. Of course I am saddened to see two such fine guests leaving, but I am not holding anything against you. However..."

Her eyes back onto the viscount, Lyra bit her lip. This did not sound good.

"...however?" Bon shrugged with utter indifference, her head slinking a little further away from vertical. Even if she felt some misgivings herself, she gave no indication whatsoever.

"He's going to behead all of you," Snowy muttered in an amusingly panicked voice that completely went against what one expected from an ice-ghost. "He's a noble and Master are just commoners. I warned this would happen, I so did!"

Baring her teeth a little, Lyra was on the brink of ordering the windigo to keep silent. Then she changed her mind and kept silent herself. Screaming SHUT UP could only be misinterpreted in her current situation, for one; and she wasn't sure if Snowy was completely wrong, for two. And she would need Snowy more than ever in case Flash Freeze were to threaten them with anything.

The stories always said that windigos could freeze ponies solid if they willed so. Surely her slightly-deficient pet would be able to chill the viscount a little... just to the point where he would need a quick trip to the infirmary himself. That would put him out of commission long enough for them to grab a train and get the heck away. 

In the heat of those tense moments, that seemed like a solid plan. Apart from the small bit where she was fetching a windigo on a pony, that is.

I can't seriously be thinking about doing that, Lyra gulped with great difficulty, a knot swelling larger and larger in her throat.

"There is still some paperwork left," Flash Freeze wiped the sweat off his forehead. "A patient cannot dismiss herself from medical care, not after having been treated so recently. Miss Lyra is still injured, and thus needs a caretaker to leave my estate. This means that you would have also needed to sign the dismissal paper, Miss Bon; along with two witnesses who testify that the declaration was made without duress. I would not expect the latter part to pose any difficulty, though. Any of my medical personnel would gladly vouch for you."

Paperwork? Seriously, just missing signatures? Lyra felt the relief wash over her anxiety. She almost burst into laughter, in fact.

"I guess we can't leave if I don't go back and sign, right?" Bon narrowed her eyes and leaned forward.

"I could be complicit in negligence if I allowed you to," Flash Freeze stated dryly. "It may sound useless legalese to you, but it is quite important to me."

"Always having your angles covered, aren't you?" Bon groaned and scampered back onto her hooves. Her teeth clattered as she shook herself around, getting rid of the tingling sensation in her legs. "Well, whatever makes you happy, FF. Wish the nurse had the mind to point that out, though. They could have spared us the journey back to the infirmary."

"I know. Real embarrassing, is it not? Though with that being said... I may be able to offer a little help," Flash Freeze mused aloofly, his gaze focusing inwards. "I could spare Miss Lyra from the pains of a needless trip. It must be a painful experience to walk down there and back, considering her wound and all the stitches she got."

"Pfft. And how would you do that?" Bon giggled, her flat tone finally painted by something different - sarcasm. "Are you going to carry her around yourself?"

The idea made Lyra chuckle faintly; and also made Snowy stare at the two with even more distress, the windigo increasingly sure that the two commoners were making the mistake of their lives.

"Even better than that," Flash Freeze started smiling himself, looking the most confident since he had entered the room. "From the three of us, only your signature is needed, Miss Bon. So our dear patient could remain up here while you quickly take care of those necessities."

"And you would remain here to watch over her, heh?" Bon turned her giggling into an outright laughter, making her preposition to the plan rather obvious.

"That is the idea," Flash Freeze nodded with utter calmness, ignoring the way his idea had already been ridiculed. "I promise to take no worse care of her than you would. I am also rather confident that she would enjoy us trading stories in your absence. About this very amulet we both wore, for example."

Lyra was about to open her mouth and decline similarly to Bon, but that last sentence struck her dumb. That was unexpected and literally the only thing that could have possibly swayed her.

If there was ever a reason why she had gotten into that weird adventure, it was that amulet. As much as she felt the cold running up and down her spine at the mere thought of being left alone with the viscount, the promise of knowing what had happened to her was very tempting. Who that green-robed Source was, what their odd contract was about, what her pet windigo really was, how all of those related to that odd game... or experiment, or whatever the Source called it.

Just what she had gotten herself into, basically.

Running her gaze back and forth between Bon and Flash Freeze, Lyra weighed her chances. On one hoof, she had so many questions to ask; and the viscount may have been her best bet at getting answers. As far as she knew, maybe nopony else knew about the amulet. Should they leave never to return, she might not get another chance at knowing what her dream-contract entailed. On the other hoof, being alone with that freak... that really wasn't a prospect she looked forward to.

Though then again, what could he do to her? Bon had already explained how her disappearance would be the worst that Flash Freeze could wish for. In a way, her being alive proved how the viscount wouldn't sink as low as to murder a visitor for the sake of a deranged experiment.

And if worst came to worst, she still had Snowy at her side. The viscount displayed no awareness of the windigo, and she had no reason to assume he had any idea of the ghost lingering next to him.

Gulping dryly, Lyra came to a heavy decision.

"Go ahead," she whispered, unable to find her voice proper. "I'll wait for you here."

"Sure, I- WHAT?" Bon snapped to her with a yell.

"Trust me," Lyra giggled nervously, shaking as if she had a fever. "I'll explain everything, okay? But for now, I... I need to talk with him. Alone."

Bon eyed her friend with open suspicion, then turned over to the viscount and finally shook her head.

"I don't get it," she stomped onto the carpet, angrily and with desperation. "I DON'T GET IT!"

Flash Freeze was taken aback by the sudden transformation. Not only was the formerly calm pony now openly raging - but even the direction of her attack changed, moving from him to the supposed friend. Such turn of events was clearly not among his expectations. He had no reason to protest though, so he kept silent.

"You will. I promise you will... but for now please go," Lyra tried her best at sounding reassuring. A rather difficult task, considering how she struggled to keep her teeth from clattering. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. Trust me."

"And just how do I know you'll be fine?" Bon scoffed at the idea, her fiery gaze almost burning two holes into Lyra's forehead.

"The same way I made it back here," Lyra winked at her friend. It was a strange reasoning that she pulled out of nowhere; but even more strangely, she felt her own confidence returning as she centred more onto it.

She drew a deep breath and blew it out, the pounding in her ears quieting away as the shivers around her back ebbed.

"I have a guardian spirit watching over me."

A few steps away from her, Snowy had been listening to the statement in complete confusion and ran her eyes around the room looking for what, or whom, her Master could have been talking about.
> 9 - Reaffirm
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The door closed with a faint thud. Lyra had really been expecting more of a violent departure; her decision had come as a shock to Bon and she wouldn't have faulted her friend for losing her temper. Bon, however, proved her wrong and handled the whole situation quite carefully instead. She simply accepted Lyra's decision with a strange glare and a slow, hesitating nod, then left the room right away.

Lyra guessed that her friend would take a while to return. The infirmary wasn't that far from the lodge, true; but Bon had absolutely no idea what was going on. Why would she hurry anyway? To watch Lyra and her would-be murderer discuss a matter she had no idea about? Or - even more likely - to wait in the corridor until that discussion was over?

I owe her a big apology, Lyra bit her lip and breathed in deeply. Even she hated her own self when she was making such split-second decisions.

She was left alone in a room with the very viscount that wanted her dead. She had a windigo at her aid and the knowledge that her continued existence benefited the noble more than her demise; but those were some real flimsy safety ropes to trust her life on.

I think I owe my sensible self an apology as well.

She didn't say anything, though. She just eyed the noble, the anxiety plain visible through her small, fiddling motions. She had no idea what to say; she didn't even know where to begin asking, to be frank. She knew too little about the amulet to form adequate questions, and had no idea what the viscount would know either. Or whether if she could trust a word he would say.

Flash Freeze dropped his head low after Bon's departure, eyeing the carpet with a vacant expression. He seemed to be contemplating, but the contents of his considerations were anypony's guess. Maybe he was pondering how much he could tell Lyra and how he could phrase his lines. Or maybe he was mulling over the ways he could rectify his mistake and get rid of a troublesome witness.

One or the other.

Snowy proved to be most practical among the three of them. She eyed the two ponies for a little while and then began inching towards the fireplace, the lure of the crackling flames far greater than that of the two awkwardly silent adults.

No matter how careful the windigo was, her master still caught onto the glacially slow movement. Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and motioned in the opposite direction with her head. Keeping the room warm temperature was the least of her concerns; she just wanted the windigo to stay close to the viscount. She would have preferred Snowy to be at the ready if things got hairy. Not that she was expecting the discussion to turn out that way - but having the windigo pointed at the viscount's head would have eased her nerves a great deal.

And she had a feeling that she would really, really need calm nerves.

"Alone at last," Flash Freeze broke the silence and glanced up, the pair of brown eyes peeking at Lyra from the cover of his white mane.

"Don't you try anything funny," Lyra growled and motioned with her head again. Then once more, for a third time. Snowy seemed to have issues understanding what she meant; the windigo stopped and stared at Lyra with a puzzled expression.

"I can assure you I have nothing ill on my mind," Flash Freeze muttered and looked to his left, his gaze following Lyra's repeated hints. A fireplace was all he could see, though.

"Got killing me out of your system or what?" Lyra rolled her eyes and leaned forward. "I didn't hit my head, you know. I remember everything."

Flash Freeze snapped his head back as if he got stung, his face twisting with horror. His stun didn't last too long however.

"What? Is the Miss out of her mind, accusing me of such things? Me, the twenty sixth descendant of a prestigious family?" he snorted and sprang up, the silver amulet in his neck swaying so wildly that it almost landed in his mouth. "This is scandalous! This is an outrage! How dare you even say such things!"

"Is making nobleponies angry a regular hobby in this new Equestria, or is it just one of Master's pastimes?" Snowy cringed and held her head between her ghostly hooves. "If it's a problem of lacking choices, I can help introduce Master to safer hobbies. I got rather good at counting splinters in wooden beams, for example!"

The promise of new and exciting hobbies didn't faze Lyra too much. She was paying more attention to how the windigo still didn't budge from her spot, a fact that began frustrating her to no end.

Argh, why can't she do what I want her to do? Do I need to put a leash on that idiot?

Leashes for ghosts better have been a thing.

"Prestigious family, eh? So what?" Lyra turned her attention back to the noble. "I had to spend some time listening to your goons a little while ago. All the things I heard them talk about... did you ever wonder why I picked such a strange route back here?"

"As if I cared for what a lowly plebeian does!" Flash Freeze yelled and spat onto the carpet. "You dare accuse me of crimes, you peasant? The nerve! It was my doctors that saved your life! And by proxy, it is only because of me that you are still breathing! Who am I kidding though - a simpleton from the streets could not be possibly understanding more than the shallowest concepts of life."

The derisive tone and tacit denial really interfered with Lyra's thought process. It was the last straw; she didn't need to hear more from a bastard whose goons were openly blabbering about ripping the amulet from her own cold corpse. A red mist descended on her, clouding her vision and letting her mouth get ahead of her brain again.

"Misunderstanding? ME? Bwhaha, that's rich!" she broke into a cackle. She had to tone it down rather quickly; laughing made her sides move, which in turn pulled on her stitches. "Your guys were only looking for my corpse. At least have the guts to admit how you tried to kill me, you two-timing bastard! All for the sake of some... experiment of your-"

She bit onto her tongue, but her jaws were already too late. That 'game' was solely organized by a pony she had only seen in her delirius dream - the Source, as it called itself. There was really no need to blame that on the viscount as well. Actually, there was no need to even let the viscount know about it! The last thing she needed to do was blabber about something that could get the viscount to take interest in her.

"This would be an ideal time for Master to just STOP!" Snowy slapped herself on the face. "I have no idea what Master is doing, but Master should definitely stop doing it right away!"

A leash and a muzzle, Lyra added another item to her mental shopping list.

"ENOUGH! Cease your inane babbling or I will show you how a noble-" Flash Freeze boomed - then fell silent abruptly. His words were still echoing in the room when his expression changed; the fire left his being. His posture let up and he stumbled, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. "Did... did you say experiment, just now? What experiment?"

"Pfff, what experiment, he asks! Gee, I wonder which it could've been? I've been involved in so much shady stuff lately!" Lyra rolled her eyes. She  imitated a thinking pose, her chin resting on her right hoof and her eyes staring at the ceiling. It may had been a mistake to drag the Source's game into the discussion - but that mistake seemed to pay off handsomely, so she ignored her misgivings and played along. "I don't know, maybe the one involving your precious amulet. The one you said would save my life. When did you want to tell me you'd test that theory by causing the accidents yourself? All for the sake of drawing out that... demon the tale spoke of. Because that was your goal, wasn't it?"

The reaction she got wasn't exactly what she had been expecting.

"Demon? That's... that's me, isn't it?" Snowy rubbed the side of her head, the windigo visibly struggling with that puzzle. "In that case, that's the tale left behind by the old Master. Indeed, old Master always called me that."

Still saying things I really should not, Lyra realized and fought off the urge to slap herself in the head.

"You... you know! You indeed know," Flash Freeze gawked, his earlier rage all but completely gone. He stared at Lyra as if she'd beoame a ghost herself, the lips of the normally immaculate noble trembling with fear. "H- how? How can you know? Who told you?"

Still saying things I really should not, Celestia be thanked! Lyra straightened herself and made a smug grin.

"Does it even matter?" she shrugged, her mind high with the scent of her small victory. "Tell me something, viscount. What's your stake in this wicked game? What makes it worth killing ponies you don't even know?"

Flash Freeze flinched at the questions. Something in him broke, and did so quite visibly. The way he sat down could have qualified for crashing to the floor, his head dropping down and then bouncing back as if it was suspended by a rubber string.

"How could she have betrayed me like this?" he mumbled. A smile began forming at the corners of his mouth, the expression completely at odds with his tone and posture. "I did everything she asked of me... why throw me away like so?"

Utterly perplexed, Lyra could only react by raising her eyebrows and leaning forward.

"Well, the cat is out of the box... might as well tell you my side of the story, then. Celestia be my witness, this secret has been eating away at me long enough already!" Flash Freeze snorted with an oddly happy tone. "Why, you ask. My motivation... that would be tradition, of course. The single goal we ever had since our family started safeguarding this remote bastion of Equestria."

"Tradition!" Lyra cocked her head to the side. That sounded all sorts of wrong. She had really hoped there was more to the story than the Flash Freeze dynasty making themselves busy with killing innocents for twenty-six generations. Very little prevented her from going into a tirade that involved all the previous generations that had lived in the Dancing Lights; and had the viscount waited only a little longer, he might have gotten to hear it.

"Yes, tradition. You see, the founder of our family, the very first Flash Freeze... he was a distinguished knight of her Highness," Flash Freeze explained as his head swayed from one side to the other. "It was she who gave us this estate and our title. A mixed blessing if there ever was one! It was such an honour that we did - and still do - everything to stay worthy of it. But that was a task more daunting than facing the monsters of the icy mountains. The Dancing Lights is an ever-hungry beast, devouring whatever riches we can acquire. Save for the pine trees, these lands are barren. There is ever so little income to be had here, everything has to be shipped from lands far away..."

"That's why you opened up to the public," Lyra shrugged. She really wasn't into listening to a story she already knew.

"Hahaha! I always wonder why commoners like you believe their pitiful wealth could compare to the sums we deal with," Flash Freeze burst into a laughter and raised his head higher, locking his gaze with Lyra's. "You were looking for a deeper reason than that, were you not? Look no further, then. We are practical ponies, up here. We know what we want and how can we keep it. We would need to tax hundred thousands of your kind to maintain the glory that is our château! That is hardly feasible, though... no, the kind of riches we require only exist in a select few places."

That was a twist Lyra had not expected, and she scrambled to find who the viscount could have been talking about. She didn't have very good chances of actually coming up with anything, though; this field was hardly near her area of expertise. Even her very own financials were managed by Bon.

"Old Master also had issues with the expenses," Snowy added her own flavour to the commentary. "He grumbled how he had so few underlings to tax, and how he had to take loans to keep the castle going. His son even wound up begging around, I believe. Whatever deal he made probably wasn't so good, however. Old Master got real angry when the news reached him. He frothed about his land being mortgaged to that... 'crowned white hag', to quote him. He even called his son a demon worse than me... I still can't decide if it would be in bad tastes to feel flattered at that!"

Would it kill you to just keep silent for TWO SECONDS? Lyra ground her teeth. It was hard enough listening to the viscount and piecing his story together from the cryptic remarks. She certainly did not need a distraction yammering about long past events-

-wait, what? A white noble? With a crown?

The true usefulness of Snowy's off-the-hoof comment only dawned on her with some delay. That changed the nature of her struggles; instead of looking for answers, she was now wondering whether she could believe them.

There's no way Celestia would be funding THIS madness!

Lyra shifted again and licked her dry lips. The air around her felt thinner and cold, yet she started sweating as if she was in the middle of a desert. And beyond the shock those possibilities provided, there was another one; only lingering in a dark and cobwebbed corner of her mind, but clawing its way to the front of her consciousness.

This isn't the game the Source plays. The viscount is mistaking your topic for his... you are hearing things you really should have not.

She wasn't aware of danger yet though. She only had an inkling, a fleeting impression that was so easy to gloss over.

For the time being.

"You're sure you didn't get your orders wrong?" she asked with a heavy gulp. She had been prepared for some real strange thriller to unfold, but the depth of the topic was rapidly proving too deep for her liking. "Did you ever clarify?"

"As if such orders sat fine with me," Flash Freeze groaned and glanced away from the other pony, letting his gaze rest on the fireplace. "I asked, yes. Many messengers were dispatched, all returning with the same message. >>You can retain your funding if you remain loyal to our orders.<<"

The tension rose to the point where no amount of fiddling could prove sufficient for Lyra. She remained sitting by the sheer force of her will; but she felt ready to explode with all the pressure she kept bottling up.

"And those orders were to give the amulet to random tourists... and then kill them," she stated, her voice quivering.

"No! Heavens forbid, no!" Flash Freeze yelled and sprang back to his hooves. "I would never agree to anything like that! My orders were to research the properties of the amulet. I am not a skilled magician however, so I had no idea how to achieve that. I had no choice but to rely on the advice I received."

The viscount's outburst was so powerful and abrupt that it made Lyra forgot about her own anxiety, pushing her confusion into the spotlight. She wouldn't have imagined a cold-blooded murderer taking her accusation so harshly. So either she had been wrong in her ideas about psychopaths, or the viscount wasn't such a bad pony after all.

She would have liked the latter to prove true; so much that her other concerns completely disappeared from her thoughts.

"Why the tourists, though?" Lyra turned her head, keeping the viscount in focus even as he started to move in small circles. "Why not just ask for volunteers? There would be many who would jump at the opportunity!"

"How many times do I need to tell you that I am NOT MAKING THE RULES?" Flash Freeze yelled and kicked the table. The small piece of furniture flew away, bouncing on the carpet before smashing into Bon's bed, its formerly glossy surface shattering and raining glass shards onto the floor. "I would be the happiest pony in Equestria if I could devote my time to astronomy instead of humouring the plebs! All I know is that once in a while a name is marked on the arrivals' list. Those are the few this whole charade is kept for."

Lyra didn't respond. She was backing away slowly, staring at the noble with frightened eyes. She was coming to admit how she had absolutely no clue just what kind of a pony he was. She backed away until she reached the back of the room; pressing firmly against the painted rocks, she gulped and took a ragged breath.

It was only at this point the realization of her grave mistake struck her. She should have excused herself and left when she had taken notice of the strange direction the discussion had taken. She should have fled while she had the chance. Instead she had decided to satisfy her curiosity, dug too deep... and had awokened something that had so far slept beneath the surface of a regular noble.

"And there is no respite, never! One after another they keep coming, these marked ones! These- these candidates! You and the likes of you, those who turn my abode into a frozen cage and my life into a constant play where I may never err!" Flash Freeze raged on as he made his circles, the shards of glass crackling under his hooves. The dam in his mind had burst and his woes finally poured forth, trampling all his saner thoughts and attention. "Do you know how long we have been playing this game? She failed to mention that, didn't she! That for almost twenty generations we have toiled away at her whimsical project... ever since the Ninth went crazy and hallucinated, the old coot. But who knows? Maybe he was not even the first. Maybe he was also a candidate. That would be quite iconic, would it not? After all, that was what she had been trying to recreate ever since. Luring newer and newer candidates here, putting them in harm's way and hoping to recreate that one fateful night... do you have any idea what is it like to live like this? DO YOU? OF COURSE YOU DO NOT!"

The viscount stopped and looked around. The fires of his rage had consumed everything they could and had died down, leaving but a frothing pony behind; one who was dazed and confused about the destruction that greeted him. He surveyed the room with a sour expression and a hint of disgust. It didn't take him long to focus back onto Lyra; the unicorn was quivering at the far end of her bed, her back against the wall.

"Hahaha... what? Are you surprised? What for?" Flash Freeze cackled and wiped the white foam off his mouth. "Is it so different, hearing it from me than from her Highness? Is-"

The grin disappeared from his face.

"Heavens. You... you did not... did not know."

The shivers left Lyra alone, and she stood perfectly still. Her own realization happened in parallel to that of the viscount, rivalling his in shock and severity. They had both just understood how deeply they had hosed themselves.

Stuck in the corner marked by a wall and a bed, Lyra immediately knew how trapped rats felt. Her sole way out was blocked by the viscount, the blue pony staring at her with a horrified expression. A quick look at him and she had no doubt that she had misjudged his motives.

She had only been a little worried before, but she was certain now. There was no way he would let her simply walk away. Not after what she had heard.

"Of- of course I knew," she stuttered and ran her eyes across the room, desperately searching for something - anything! - that could save her. "Some parts anyway!"

"Who told you?" Flash Freeze took a step toward Lyra. He appeared a lot more threatening now than any moment before, his head low and all his teeth showing as he sneered. "Who told you?!"

Lyra backed what little she could, plastering her back against the wall. It didn't take a genius to know she was running out of options; she had no idea how she could get out of this pickle. Nothing apart from the appalling possibility of using her windigo as a weapon.

"The Source did," she stated flatly, her mind working through the details of her newest escapade. Suppose she did prevail over the viscount; then what? He had a small army at his bidding. Could she find Bon and get on the train in time? And even if she did, wouldn't the pegasi catch up to them anyway?

"The Source?" Flash Freeze broke his approach and cocked his head to the side. "Who in the devil is that?"

"I don't know! I just saw her when I fell into that mine!" Lyra explained. Her voice lacked any tone whatsoever, short and shallow breaths punctuating almost every one of her words. She spoke without much thought; she only wanted to buy time. Delay the inevitable. "She wore a green cloak and offered me some... some contract!"

Flash Freeze resumed his walk towards her, albeit at a greatly reduced pace. He also appeared to listen intently to every word, his ears pricking up as his eyes focussed on the panicking unicorn.

"Contract? What contract? What was it about?" he took another step forward. His whole being became more and more unsettling by the moment; the way he uttered his question made the icy world outside look tame in comparison.

"That I would partake in this game! This experiment... it's the one you talked about, isn't it!" Lyra cried out and gave a pleading look to the windigo. Snowy reacted without delay; unburdened by physical constraints, she moved with supernatural speed and arrived right next to her Master with a single, ridiculously long leap. The closeness of her ghostly servant quelled Lyra's distress somewhat; but that respite was too small and too late to seriously calm her. She resumed her delaying tactic, throwing words at the viscount to buy a little more time for... for some miracle to happen. "She only explained the rules and didn't say more, I swear!"

"Rules...?" Flash Freeze narrowed his eyes. He reached Lyra and leaned close to her face, his hot breath ruffling the unicorn's mane. "What rules?"

"Ah... ah, there aren't many! It's... it's kind of a free for all!" Lyra complied and shut her eyes. The viscount's absolute proximity unsettled her, taking away what little composure she had gathered. She wasn't breathing any more but gasping instead; she could feel her nerves snapping one by one, each torn tether bringing her closer to unleashing the windigo on the unsuspecting noble. She fought against that desire as much as she tried to oppose the viscount, however; so she kept talking, hoping something she said would get the noble away from her and allow for a peaceful resolution. "That was all! And, ah, another! That only the players can see each other's servants! Nothing more, really!"

"Servants? What servant-" Flash Freeze wrinkled his eyebrows; but that confusion proved very short-lived. He burst into a hollering laughter, right in Lyra's face; his loud voice ringing in her ears and a few pieces of saliva landing on her face. Then he smacked the cringing unicorn in the head, sending Lyra tumbling and onto the floor.

She didn't quite understand what had happened to her. It wasn't that the situation wasn't clear enough; but the gears in her panicking mind had seized up, preventing her from forming even the most basic thoughts. She became a prisoner of her own terror.

"You did it! Oh my- I simply can not believe it was you who did it!" Flash Freeze slammed a hoof onto Lyra's side, the rough push squeezing a pained groan out of her. "I never once thought there was a real point to this experiment... but what do I know, eh? Ahahaha... bwahahaha! Her Highness will be so pleased! And my days... my days of being stuck in this never-ending loop... this nightmare... it is over! Finally over! No more! You hear me? NO MORE! Gyahahahah!"

The viscount punctuated his relief by lifting his hoof and bringing it down again. Lyra wasn't sure if the stitches in her side or if her ribs pained more. She had plenty of hurt either way, evidenced by how she couldn't breath deeply enough to even cough. It was an absolutely pathetic feeling, lying sideways on the floor and struggling not to choke to death.

And that was precisely the moment when she gave in. Morals and conscience ranked high with her; but so did her very own life.

Do something, she turned her gaze to the windigo, begging without audible words. Anything!

"Let Master go! Let go, or else!" Snowy snarled at the noble. There wasn't much fire in her words though; either because she was a being of ice... or because she was aware how she wouldn't be heard anyway. "Keh! I'm sorry for the descendant of the old Master, but you really leave me no choice...!"

The crimson eyes flashed and Lyra felt a wave of chilly air rush over her. She closed her eyes and kept herself from breathing, a foolhardy attempt at protecting herself from the worst. The deadly freeze never came, though; only a wave of mild chill battered her coat. Uncomfortable but absolutely survivable.

Ineffective as the attack was, it still bore some fruits. Flash Freeze snorted loudly and took a step back, surveying the room with wild swings of his head. 

"Ha! This cold... it is you, is it not? Ghost! Demon! You are nearby, are you not?" he yelled, his grin deepening until all his teeth showed. It was clear he retreated on his own volition, the sudden drop in temperature piquing his interest. His search didn't last long though; he turned back to Lyra once it was clear he wouldn't be able to spot anything. "It was you, correct? This is the demon which used to trail the Ninth... and now it trails you! It even tried to protect you just now, did it not? How curious... how amusing! How intoxicating! All the possibilities, all the rewards..."

Pushing herself back up with her left leg, Lyra snarled at the raving noble. She stood no chance against him, that much was clear; her unicorn magic was far outweighed by her wound and her exhaustion. She had to rely on her ghostly servant - but the windigo's last attack had been an outright fizzle.

"What happened!" she growled as she finally returned to standing. Her legs wobbled under her weight as she took an unsteady step away from the crazy-grinning noble.

"I'm... not quite sure what Master expects of me," Snowy gave her master a confused stare. "I can't really freeze a whole pony... not quickly anyway. Even a smaller fireplace took a good few minutes!"

That was not what Lyra was prepared to hear. She had been expecting something on the level of traditional Faustian bargains - power that had no rivals. A force of nature. Something that she could barely keep in check. Definitely not something she could achieve with two dozen blocks of ice.

I never watched her actually use these powers, she realized and made a mental note to spend more time practising with Snowy. She had to be clear on the windigo's abilities and limits. IF I make it out of this mess alive, that is.

"That was a plenty good warning," Flash Freeze cackled to himself and rolled his head around, his neck making faint popping noises. "Now you got me curious! Show me what this demon can do... show me what news I can make her Highness pleased with!"

You're frigging insane, Lyra gulped and glanced around her. She would have welcomed anything that could have aided in her escape; but only small shards of glass littered the carpet. She remembered some movie heroines using those as makeshift weapons, but in truth, the shards looked way too flimsy for anything such. She could only see them enraging the viscount, nothing more.

"Snowy!" she cried out, uncaring for the longer-term consequences. "DO SOMETHING, you hear me? I don't care what you do or how you do it! Just get this psycho off me!"

"Snowy?" Flash Freeze frowned at the name, clearly missing a beat or two. "That... is that your demon? Not very threatening- wait, what? Did you just call me a psychopath?"

"Do what, exactly?" Snowy sat down and held a hoof to her chin, her concentration only matched by her frustration. "I just tried my best at draining him of heat. I can continue but it may take several minutes-"

"Surely you can do more! Something else!" Lyra shrieked as she hobbled away from the noble, moving until her back pushed against the bed at the other end of the room. "I've signed a whole contract to get you as a servant! That couldn't have been for mildly discomforting a few-"

"The demon only presented itself when the Ninth was truly in danger... same with you. It only left the amulet when you were gravely wounded," Flash Freeze cut into her words. He began pacing towards Lyra ever so slowly as well, licking his lips as he approached. "That gives me a few ideas how to draw out some real potential here. Do not worry, I will allow you to escape your demise! Even if narrowly. I do need to present something to her Highness, after all. I just want to see what I struggled so long for, that is all. Mmm, I wonder what would be the best... strangling, perhaps? Yes, that is easily controlled and there is little chance of overdoing the injury..."

"You wouldn't!" Snowy jumped up and lunged to in front of Lyra, shielding her from the noble. "Stop! STOP!"

I'm so doomed, Lyra mused to herself as she backed onto the bed and collapsed onto the soft sheet. There was no way Snowy could block the noble, not with her intangible form. She had no real power either; such little bursts of cold air probably only served to refresh Flash Freeze.

Her ears dropping to horizontal as her head dipped low, Lyra tried to prepare herself for the inevitable. Of all the ways to go, being murdered by a crazy noble was pretty low on her list of probabilities. She did not for a second believe he would spare her. He would realize how weak Snowy was when he would meet no resistance; and then both master and servant would become useless. No matter who that 'Highness' of Flash Freeze was, they surely had no use for cheap gimmicks. Even if they came in extraordinary packaging like Snowy.

At least Bon isn't here to see this, she made a bittersweet smile. She really hoped at least her friend would get to get away.

"I said STOP!" Snowy boomed. She had become increasingly agitated as her efforts at stalling Flash Freeze proved to be in vain. The transition went beyond her voice; small blue lights danced around her form, her crimson eyes burning with quickly dissipating plumes of red. "Stop or I will do something... put EVERYTHING I have into a punch! Something all of us will regret! I'm telling you! Leave Master alone!"

Flash Freeze didn't heed those warnings and proceeded towards Lyra unabated. He couldn't even see the ghost; but even if he did, he wouldn't have cared much. He was drunk with the excitement of finally getting to see the demon in action - he wouldn't have stopped until he got to witness something truly impressive.

Lyra watched him step through Snowy. Wavering between a giggle and a sob, she closed her eyes and resigned herself to her fate. At least be quick about it, she thought as a sigh rushed out of her mouth. She was trembling to the point where she couldn't keep her lips closed.

"You made me do this!" she heard Snowy cry out. "I- I have no idea what I'm about to do, but remember that you made me do this!"

Lyra was about to laugh as sarcastically as only somepony scheduled for execution could. The laughter got pre-empted, however; something hit her square in the head and she lost her balance. She stumbled and fell; the bed sheet caught her, and she bounced softly before coming to a uncomfortable sitting position, her legs randomly sprawled out.

Ow. Owowow, she winced at her joints flexing to their limit. What am I doing, jumping on a bed like this?

She had the oddest sensation. She could remember having been concerned about something real important, but the exact thoughts evaded her. The last time she felt like so was when she had walked into the kitchen and spent a half hour wondering what she went looking for in the first place.

She held a hoof to her idiot head and sighed.

Eh, no matter. Might as well get back to packing our stuff... Bon could be back any moment.

She opened her eyes and quickly sprang up, screaming bloody murder.

There was a blue pony in front of her, looking at her with eyes betraying nothing but utter confusion.

"SOMEPONY! GUARDS!" Lyra screamed and grabbed a pillow with her unicorn magic, using it to slam the burglar in the face. "Guards! There's-"

"Ugh! Oof! La- lady! Miss!" the stranger reeled at the 'powerful' attack and took a hasty step back. He rose his front hooves into the air and waved them a little, trying to disarm the situation by being obvious of how he meant no harm. "Miss! Stop that, Miss! I am-"

"-a freak! I don't know you! What are you even doing in my room!" Lyra kept on screaming anyway, throwing whatever happened to be in her reach. Pillows first, small pieces of debris afterwards. "Get out! GET OUT! GUARDS! Argh, where are these idiots when you need them?!"





"I already told you everything I know! Three times, in fact!" Lyra massaged her forehead with a hoof. She had reached the point where it provided no comfort, however; only a drink could help her. That and an XXXL sized pill of aspirin.

"Sorry Miss, but this story kind of bears some repeating," the Guard turned to the paper floating to his left. "So your version is as follows... you came straight here after you were discharged from medical care. Your friend realized a few papers were left unsigned and she left; you used this time to pack your things and catch some sleep. Then you woke up to the Viscount staring at you."

"I don't care if he's a Prince or whatever. He had no business checking me out like that," Lyra glared at the Guard. She was fed up with the whole routine of random strangers asking her the same questions over and over, no matter what kind of fancy armour they wore. "Seriously, I dictated the very paper you're reading less than ten minutes ago! Couldn't you just, you know, read it instead of pestering me?"

"It's really disrespectful, treating Master as if she was delusional," Snowy grumbled with a hearty nod. The windigo was sitting on the top of a tall drawer, looking over the whole room as if she was a sovereign of a small land. Reality was a little more nuanced though; it had been Lyra who commanded her up there, in an attempt to keep her out of everypony's way.

Half a dozen Guards repeatedly walking through the translucent creature had made for a very distracting experience.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I really am! It's just... I don't get it," the Guard admitted with a heavy sigh. "I don't claim to know the Viscount, but... I've been serving him for a while now, and I know he's not this kind of a pony. He doesn't just wander into other pony's rooms to throw a tantrum."

"Yeah, sure. And this table just broke itself," Lyra motioned at the battered remains of the small table, the wreckage neatly piled up against the side of the bed. "How many such wild and unruly tables do you know, sarge'?"

"It's Second Lieutenant," the Guard rolled his eyes. All the talk with the frustrated civilian was starting to make him frustrated as well. "And no, I would not expect tables to have suicidal tendencies either."

Lyra tilted her head upwards and moved her hoof out of the way, giving the Guard a clean view of her face. That was important as she just made her most honest then why are you even asking me this expression.

"I think they are blaming Master," Snowy fiddled at the top of the drawer. She had been growing more and more restless by the minute; being confined to the drawer-top was making her frustrated as she clearly wanted to inspect the investigators.

Lyra sneaked a quick glance at the windigo and wrinkled her eyebrows in disapproval. Why would anypony suspect her of breaking a table? That didn't make any sense.

Then again, it also took these idiots three repeats to get my testimony right, she went back to facehooving. Her explanation wasn't even that long - just a few lines! Surely any officer not challenged in the head could have memorized that. She needed fewer rehearsals for intricate plays.

"Then why are you even asking? Are you saying I did it?" Lyra bumped her hoof against her head lightly. She used her right hoof this once, as rising the leg brought her bandages into a more prominent position. "Sarge, I have so many stitches that I could pass for a pinata. Do you think I would have the strength to just fling a table away like that?"

"Well, the Viscount hearing the noise and coming in to inspect the room would be a very sound theory," the Guard rolled up the paper and tucked it into the side of his armour. "Then again, your wounds are a rather solid proof, Miss Lyra. I must say I honestly have no idea what to make of this! ...and it's Second Lieutenant, got it?"

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say!" Lyra brushed the trivial matter of military ranks aside. "So which question should I answer for the fourth time? I mean, I would write my answers down and spare your time, but you know... I kind of had already done that! Seriously, somepony broke into my room. I thought this was a clear-cut situation!"

"Just because it's clear-cut doesn't mean it's so easy to believe," the Guard shook his head and put his helmet back on. "Though I don't think it'll get any easier to stomach even if I spend the whole night here. Might as well call it a night... we've got everything wrapped up anyway. I hope you don't misunderstand, Miss Lyra - we take your case very seriously and I can promise that it will be followed through properly. We won't be turning a blind eye just because the Viscount is involved."

Lyra listened to that promise but didn't feel anything in her resonating to it. She really didn't care. She was scared of the stranger in her room and felt incredibly thankful for the six Guards to have arrived to her screaming; but that was really all she had wanted of them. She absolutely had no desire for the hour-long Q&A session. So what if they would investigate? She was set to leave the next morning already. Why would she even care about what happened in that icy, remote patch of Equestria?

"Thanks," she mumbled without meaning - or even really thinking about - anything. She was only really glad the soldiers were finally leaving her alone.

"I can have one of my colts make rounds outside your door, if you would prefer," the Guard proposed as he adjusted the leather strap of his helmet. "I understand the aftermath of such situations can be a bit rough. I wouldn't want you to spend this night in terror."

As if another stranger circling around me would really help with my worries, Lyra chuckled dryly to herself. Especially since she had no idea who would happen to guard her. The memory of hiding in a shack and listening to two colts chat about her demise was still fresh in her mind; fresh enough for her to not want any help from anypony in the military. Except as a last resort.

"No... it's all right," she rejected the offer much more politely. It was so much easier to act polite and respectful when she knew that the soldiers were leaving her alone in a matter of minutes. "Bon will be back soon enough."

She also had an ice ghost watching over her, though she couldn't exactly explain that to the soldier.

"It's your choice," the Guard shrugged and turned to the five other ponies that were still mucking around the room. They had already inspected everything worth inspecting; to the point where they had already started cleaning up instead, collecting debris into neat little piles that were easy to avoid. "All right! Everypony, we're done here. Let's let the cleaning crew do their own job. Form up and follow me! We're returning to the barracks. Miss Lyra, I wish you a good... eh, better night."

Lyra moved her hoof to the side of her head and did a ridiculously scrappy salute; but she only started smiling when the last of the soldiers had left her room.

"Finally. I was thinking they would become my new room-mates or something," she sighed and threw herself backwards, straight onto the soft bed. "Sweet Celestia, I'm so tired I could fall asleep on my hooves."

"I thought ponies sleep upright all the time," Snowy raised her eyebrows. She took a more natural pose as the room fell quiet, crouching down on the top of the drawer and peeking out from her cover like an oversized blue kitten.

"Pfff, shows what you know!" Lyra rolled her eyes and gave the bed sheet a few pats. "Do you know how uncomfortable it is to stand on this stuff? It's way too soft... always feels like I'd trip over any moment. No way I'd try sleeping while standing on this thing!"

"Makes sense," Snowy ceded and perked her ears up.

"Seriously, what are you good for?" Lyra groaned as she fiddled around, trying to find a comfortable spot on the bed. "You can't touch things and the little you know is a few hundred years out of date. Heck, you can't even freeze things! I thought that was something all windigos could do!"

"I'm truly ashamed to have no reply to that," Snowy crouched even lower and dipped her ears. That was somewhat of a neat trick; she hid so well that she completely disappeared from sight. Too bad she was invisible for almost everypony anyway. "I will look into improving myself, Master. As I said, I would hate to be a liability! I am sure I will make myself useful somehow."

"Tsch. Don't take it that seriously," Lyra closed her eyes, and waved a hoof in the air. "Don't take me that seriously either. What happened to not calling me Master? Remember that bit?"

"Feels like a quite inappropriate thing to do," Snowy moaned from her cover. "To be honest, I am fine with just being allowed to look Master in the eyes! Old Master used to reprimand ponies for doing that."

"Ugh. You know, there is one thing you excel at. You sure make me glad I'm not living a few hundred years in the past!" Lyra grimaced as she imagined herself being thrown into prison for the heinous crime of having looked a noble in the eye. "I wonder why they never talk of that stuff in history class."

...or maybe they did, she mused. I should have really paid more attention.

As far as most classes went, she had done the same thing over and over. She had drawn small figures onto the side of her books and daydreamed of saving the world one day.

Fun times.

"I'm sorry," Snowy whined. "I will try to-"

The door bursting open cut her sentence off. Lyra was already back on her hooves by when she woke up, staring at the door with wide eyes and ready to pelt any intruder with the small hill of debris she happened to be close to.

Then she relaxed when a familiar face came through the doorway.

"Bon!" she yelled as cheerfully as if she had received the presents of her next thirty birthdays in one go. "Am I glad to finally-"

"What the heck did you do this room? It looks as if there was a brawl in here!" Bon gasped at the sight, utterly oblivious to Lyra's joy. "Wait - don't tell me... Lyra, were those Guards I met coming from here?"

"They... might have been," Lyra immediately dialled her jubilant mood back all the way to zero. "Look, I can explain-"

"You got into a fight with the viscount, didn't you," Bon slapped herself on the face. "Oh for the love of... can't you be left alone, even for a second? I expected better of you."

"Hey! I wasn't the one who started it!" Lyra broke into a yell. She had had enough of explaining the issue over and over to the Guards; she didn't need her best friend starting the same game. "Besides, how would I know he was the viscount? I don't even know that pony!"

"You what?" Bon balked at the denial, her head tilting to the side as if the different angle helped her hear better. "What do you mean you don't know him? Lyra, he was that Flash Freeze. You can't just claim you don't know him because-"

"I. Do. Not. Know. HIM!" Lyra snapped and stomped on the ground with her right hoof. It was a pitifully weak stomp, the carpet and her wounded shoulder only making some suspiciously odd noises. She needed the healthy left leg to stand on though, so it couldn't have been helped. She only really needed that move to vent some stress anyway - she might have blown up otherwise. "I was grilled for an hour by those bone-heads and you know what? No matter what anypony says, I don't know anything about that idiot noble and that's it! Seriously, what's wrong with all of you all of a sudden? With you, especially! Coming back so late and accusing me right away..."

Bon recoiled, the barrage of sour accusations hitting her square in the jaw. She bit her lip and looked away; she waited for Lyra to finish her rant while staring at the brown door frame. She only lifted her head back up when Lyra was done. Her expression had completely changed by then; the beige earth pony bore a warm smile as she looked at her friend.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Sorry, I was just- it's just this whole thing is confusing!" she tried to excuse herself. There wasn't much conviction in her voice; she was either feeling really guilty or didn't believe in those words herself. "But you know what? The FF we saw wouldn't have tried to do all those things to you. He still did anyway, though. So I guess you're right - we really didn't know the true him, after all!"

Blinking in confusion, Lyra gave an absent-minded nod. Sure, she could have settled for that explanation - especially if it meant avoiding a useless fight with her best friend. Might as well go with Bon's version instead of going through the troubles of explaining how she really didn't have any idea who that viscount was.

I swear, everypony is crazy today.
> 10 - Return
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mind yer' step, youn' lady."

Lyra grumbled something along the lines of I think I can handle a stair on my own, only piping up when she arrived to the "...thanks anyway" part. That pony was just trying to help her. There was no reason for her to be rude in return.

No reason other than her grumpy mood, that is.

She hadn't had the best of mornings. She hadn't slept well. She had never realized how actively she slept; she kept moving and rolling around. Well, she'd sure noticed it last night. With her stitched wound, all those involuntary movements had kept waking her up at least once every hour.

No sleep made Lyra a grumpy pony.

Just as much as repeatedly being bugged about that other issue did.

Only after a rather loud outburst around two in the morning had Bon promised to stop yapping about the viscount. She'd mostly kept to her word, too; though she had managed to sneak in a few questions every now and then. Sometimes obviously in a tongue-in-check manner, just teasing Lyra for her 'briefest and most screwed up love story ever'; other times actually testing her, genuinely trying to pry something interesting from her.

Too bad Lyra hadn't been joking when she'd said she didn't know the viscount whatsoever. And she grew more and more irate every time somepony asked about the affair, always implying that she should have known something.

She was incredibly glad how that annoyance would soon come to a stop. About one and a half days after she had boarded the train, to be precise. Once the frozen north and all their craziness was a safe distance away from her.

She hopped up the stairs in one go. It was better than struggling her way up, minding her wound at each step. It wasn't any more difficult either; she had already learnt how to land properly with only using her left leg. Only her bag objected to the jump - it slid forward as she landed, the sling rotating around her neck. Conservation of momentum reared its ugly head and the heavy luggage pulled the unsuspecting pony along. Lyra may had been able to land smoothly with one leg, but she wasn't good enough to also stop herself at the same time. She staggered forward, right towards the other side of the train car; then proceeded to give the wooden surface a hug. A hearty bear hug.

Ow!

The sole witness to the embarrassing scene was the other passenger present. The red pegasus was quick to react. He jumped to Lyra and bit onto the sling of her bag; it wasn't much help, but it was enough to keep the dazed musician from collapsing.

"I tolf ya' to be ca'eful!" he grumbled, the leather sling firmly perched between his teeth.

"Right, right..." Lyra absent-mindedly threw whatever came to mind. She didn't actually listen to that pony; she was already moving forward instead, escaping the scene of her embarrassment. She dragged her nameless helper along for a few steps and then stumbled forward when she was released.





"You're nuts," Bon sighed. She held a hoof to the side of her head and made a face, looking as if she had been the one who had tackled a train.

"You try hobbling on three and then we'll talk about it," Lyra snorted loudly. Her head and her wound may have hurt, but her pride took a much harsher blow than either of those. Mind over matter it was, and from the worst kind. She made sure she avoided looking at Bon; she didn't need further criticism. Her attention went to the sling of her bag instead. She unlocked the metal hook at the bottom and the bag fell freely, landing at her hooves with a dull thud.

In hindsight, that didn't seem like the smartest thing to do. She had no idea if Bon had packed anything fragile in there, after all.

Well, I'm pretty sure nothing fragile is in there, Lyra bit onto her lip. Not any more!

Another small thing she could fuss over. Yay.

"You want help with that? It could be heavy," Bon pointed her hoof at the bag. That she didn't break into a panicking tantrum was a rather positive sign regarding the bag's contents.

"I'll manage," Lyra hissed and yanked the bag upwards with her magic. Her grip was strenuous, though; beyond the mundane everyday usage, her magic was always more tuned to small and precise movements, such as pulling the strings of a lyre. She wasn't accustomed to lifting heavy objects that way; and the bag was pretty loaded. She could already tell so from the little time she had spent carrying it... all the way from the luggage room to the train platform.

It was really thoughtful of the lodge crew to get their stuff delivered to the train station when they checked out.

Lyra watched the bag float upwards all the same, the amber aura persisting against the pull of gravity. It wasn't a pleasant exercise, that was for sure; the strain was making her shake and sweat, almost as much as if she was doing the lifting with her own hooves. All the greater was her surprise when the load disappeared from her back; the bag jumped upwards and fell into into the overhead bin.

"Stop showing off," Bon withdrew back to her place with a wry smile. "You don't need to impress me, you doofus."

"I wasn't showing off," Lyra pouted and took her own seat, taking her chance to take a good look around.

The train was almost like the one they had arrived in a few days ago. Brightly painted wood everywhere, the red and gold colours dominating the rest. The spacious inside of the car was divided by panels; each of those almost pony-high. They were short enough to maintain the feeling of a large open air space, yet tall enough to give the illusion of smaller, almost-private rooms as well. All of those 'rooms' were alike; each next to a window and having six cushions.

Unlike on their way to the mountains, the train was almost empty this time, though. There weren't so many guests in the Dancing Lights this time of the year, and the few who came were in no hurry to leave. There were exactly two other ponies travelling in the same car - and they had taken the furthest corner for themselves, chattering and giggling with little restraint.

"Sure you weren't," Bon sighed and leaned back, her back knocking against the red-painted wood. "I know that because you're not the kind of pony who ever does that. Period."

"Ha! Sure am not!" Lyra beamed with pride. The gears in her mind kept spinning nevertheless, and she came to a rather alarming conclusion shortly afterwards. "Wait. Were you... being sarcastic?"

"Nope! I would never!" Bon shook her head wildly. "I am no good with sarcasm. At all."

"Oh- okay," Lyra raised one of her eyebrows. That was a suspiciously specific denial, but she couldn't quite put a hoof on why it had struck her as so strange. In the end she just let the whole issue slide with a shrug and hopped onto the cushion closest to the window. "Can't believe we're really going home."

"Yeah. We spent more travelling than vacationing," Bon cast a longing look at the white mountaintops in the distance.

Lyra yanked her eyes back and spent a few moments studying that expression. Bon also looked tired - she had also woken up at least half the times Lyra had last night - but even so, it remained easy to spot how much she had regretted being forced to go away.

She was really looking forward to this, Lyra thought to herself with a frown and turned to the window, bumping her head against the cold glass.

"I'm sorry," she muttered in a faint voice, her warm breath drawing white clouds onto the transparent surface.

She had been so busy with her own woes that she hadn't thought about the situation from any other angle. Not like taking Bon's needs into consideration would have changed anything; they couldn't have stayed in that château no matter what. But not giving a single thought about her friend's feelings... Lyra felt quite wretched when she realized that omission.

"Did you make all of that story up?" Bon cocked her head to the side, her voice as distant as the mountains she held her gaze on. "The one about the ponies who wanted you dead because of the amulet."

Lyra almost broke into a yell; only the timely bite on her tongue prevented that. She sprang from her place all the same and leered at Bon with a fiery glare, her emotions plain as day on her face.

"Then stop apologizing about it," Bon smirked at her agitated friend. "I'll get around to skiing again some time, don't you worry."

"Oh," Lyra mumbled and sat back down. Her anger faded as fast as it came, the hotness also disappearing from her face. She was solely tired once again.

"I'm pretty sure I couldn't find another friend like you though," Bon carried on with a chuckle. "So stop spouting nonsense. I'd only accept your apology if you never came back."

The odd warmth returned to Lyra's cheeks; so she rubbed a hoof on her face and turned back to the window. She wasn't sure if that hid or telegraphed her embarrassment, though.

"If I could have remained calm enough to listen to you, that is," Bon giggled and stretched her hooves, finishing her sentence with a yawn.

Lyra's lips curled into a barely noticeable smile. She hadn't known all that many ponies, to be honest; and certainly no-one had stood by her as Bon did. She remembered thinking about that last night, between her short sessions of deep sleep - about how she had survived in the cold wilderness. It went against the odds for sure. Even she wouldn't have bet on herself to make it, to be honest. She would have expected those miracles to only happen in the fancy tales she provided the background music for. Fancy escapades that ponies wrote, fantasies with fair doses of wishful thinking. She had always believed it was so naive, thinking everypony was capable of pushing past their limits just because they believed in something. She clearly remembered sitting in the orchestra pit and rolling her eyes at those pretentious thoughts.

Yeah, sure. If only it was so easy.

Then came herself. A pampered musician who defied the cold, the snow and a deep wound at the same time. How she had kept dragging herself forward, even when it would have been easier to just lie down and sleep. But she hadn't done any of that. She hadn't succumbed. Not even when she was so tired, so cold and so sick of the whole thing. 

She couldn't help but think she had Bon to thank for that. Something to return for... no, something to return to.

Something to look forward to.

That was the source of her stubborn perseverance.

"Who needs a magic amulet anyway," Lyra giggled to herself as she smeared a wavy line onto the window with her nose. 

The line ended abruptly. An odd feeling took hold of her, making her pause. She remembered a silver necklace with a sparkling blue gemstone... one she had found in the snow. A true one-in-a-million stroke of luck that was, bumbling over such a precious item during a practice run! Too bad she had lost it when she had been admitted into the infirmary. She felt really stupid for not having asked where it went. That wasn't the strangest thing though...

There was something odd about that necklace itself.

There was something crucial about it. Something extremely important. She just couldn't recall what. She was sure she was forgetting something - like a puzzle which had a few parts pulled out and thrown away.

But what? What could she have forgotten if she could recall everything else with such clarity?

She kept grinding away at that weirdness - for a few moments, after which she ignored the whole matter with a shrug. It was only natural for her to have odd sensations lingering in her head. She was at death's door, after all.

"Easy for you to say that now," Bon turned to her with a wry grimace. "Even I felt worried you wouldn't make it through that awful weather. So there may have been something to that necklace, don't you think?"

"Oh there was... there definitely was," Lyra mumbled absent-mindedly and pushed her nose against the window. "But see... the amulet was really useful, yeah. However! That wasn't what made me come back. There was a much greater force helping me out there. That's all I'm saying."

"Really?" Bon perked her ears up and leaned closer to her friend. "What's that? C'me on Lyra, spit it out! Don't you dare go all cryptic on me now!"

"Friendship," Lyra turned her gaze to the side and gave the beige earth pony a playful pat on the nose.

Bon didn't seem to get that reference. She pulled back and stared in front of her, eyebrows wrinkled; she looked more confused then she had been before hearing that 'explanation'.

Lyra giggled at that scene. She would explain to Bon, one day; but she didn't feel like doing so right now. She wasn't sure how to explain herself properly, for starters. Bon already knew the bare details of those days anyway - and given the adventure she had endured, Lyra was pretty sure they would talk about those days for a long time to come. So she sighed and turned her gaze back to the outside world, content with her decision. She would have that talk - just later. She had more pressing matters to attend to.

Like the windigo that was still sitting beneath her window, looking at her with pleading puppy-like eyes.

"What the-" Lyra recoiled at the sight, then pushed her face back against the window so hard that it clanged. "Don't tell me you're still out there!"

Snowy made sure to remind her master how she was a product of long-gone ages. She had approached the train with great reluctance, ranting about the whistling, smoke-puffing, obviously evil piece of metal all along the way. Then she flat out refused to board.

In her struggle with the bag, Lyra had kind of forgotten about that detail.

"Who's out there?" Bon blinked confusedly, staring out the window herself. "I don't see anypony."

"I'll, uh... I'll explain," Lyra stammered and turned around. She burst out of the 'room' and headed towards the exit of the car. She only stopped to listen to a loud whistle cutting through the air; the train was to depart in a few minutes. "I'll explain everything but there's something I gotta' do!"

"Where you even going?!" Bon yelped. She was clearly puzzled by the string of incomprehensible actions and followed Lyra as soon as her shock receded. "Lyra Heartstrings, if you don't explain everything to me right this instant, I swear to Celestia I'm going to make you wish you stayed out there...!"





"Took you long enough. I was really beginning to wonder if you'd never get around to using the powers I gave you."

The green robed pony balanced on the top of a flagpole atop of the train station. Neither the winds nor the swaying metal posed any difficulty to her. Not that they could in the first place; her ethereal form shrugged off such trivialities of the tangible world.

She wouldn't have objected much if somepony had accused her of showing off. She could afford that little risk though; no-one but her comrades could see her until she wished so. That left nopony to scold her - and, indeed, nopony to even witness her crazy act. In a way that absolved her of both the punishment and the crime.

Not that she would have cared much for either naysayers or supporters. All those colourful folks around her; they were nothing in her eyes. They may have moved, walked or talked, but they came and went without leaving a trace. Even those that tried. Nothing they cobbled together lasted long enough to make a difference. They were shadows, the whole lot of them; and she had already learnt to ignore such superfluous details. An efficient mind is a lean one.

The flagpole was merely the best vantage point. She had been able track the cyan unicorn and her windigo as they had arrived at the train station from there; she had even seen them as they had taken their seats inside the train, chattering with one of those unremarkable mongrels along the way. A beige earth pony, by the looks of it.

The Source's sole reaction was a shake of her head. Once.

She's wasting time, doing that.

Then again, living a life had its own inertia; an unseen force so difficult to overcome. And this subject - Lyra, as she called herself - was still fresh. It was natural she would keep acting how she used to while she was a passing shadow herself.

She's just like the rest of them, the Source admitted. There was a brief tinge passing through her head; a feeling she wasn't accustomed to.

Regret. No, it wasn't that definite... what was it, then? Doubt?

It had to be doubt.

How odd, the Source tilted her head. The surge of the odd feeling had ebbed and disappeared, leaving only curiosity in its wake. Try as she might, the Source couldn't recall the last time she experienced that sensation. She always had been methodical; nothing she did lacked reason. That was the only way she could hope for a success.

Did she depart from that path?

She had been toiling away at the task for so very long, after all. She saw countless opportunities, some promising and some barely glittering; all of them ending in abysmal failures. None of them could overcome the inertia of who they were; their souls gravitated back to their origin, weighed down and crushed by the shadow they used to be.

True enough; those failures had their own qualities. Many of them were outright admirable. Even the Source could admit that much.

They just weren't what she was looking after.

A loud whistle and a puff of white smoke arose her from her introspection. The locomotive beneath her started to move, the wheels struggling but finally grinding away at the rails.

I was doubting, the Source mused as another whistle tore through the air. I was definitely having doubts just now.

It was a perplexing sensation. Success may have eluded her, but she wouldn't have done anything differently if presented with the choice. She never regretted anything. So why would she doubt?

Quite a peculiar moment that feeling picked to surface, too.

There are no coincidences, the Source reminded herself.

If this subject, this Lyra, could evoke that feeling in her; a feeling no other subjects did; then that was a splendid justification in itself.

She felt relieved and disappointed at that realization. It was good to know she was as single-minded as ever; but on the other hoof, it was depressing to lose the most unique aspect of a test iteration.

"No matter. There's no stopping once you've used this power," the Source tracked the departing train with her gaze, brushing her earlier pondering aside, casting it into the wind. "I can't wait for you to start playing in earnest."

The wind picked up. It blew over and into the ancient fortress, showering the rooftops with snow and tearing into the flags that were hung around the place. The thick fabrics dangled around with mindless fury, their poles protesting with metallic groans.

Only the green robed pony stood strong. It took minimal effort on her part; she only had to ignore the weather, a feat that came particularly easy to her. Her only thoughts were centred around the participants in her game - and she kept returning to the most fresh one of them.

"Well, I'm positive your case will prove to be most interesting. Don't prove me wrong."





Bon tilted her head back, the water bottle in her mouth almost becoming vertical. The clear liquid sloshed around in the glass and finally disappeared; then the pony opened her mouth. The glass fell by her side not long after, landing between two cushions by the stroke of blind luck.

"I don't get it," she rubbed her weary eyes and wiped the sweat off her forehead. "I absolutely don't get it."

"Oh come on! I'm not trying to explain difficult stuff like compound interest," Lyra pleaded and gestured towards what looked like an empty spot of air. "It's simple, really! She's standing right there, even as we speak!"

"Master, I don't think she would be able to see me, no matter how hard you try," Snowy scratched the back of her neck. "Besides, I don't think I like where this lecture is going... you're trying so hard that I feel like I'm developing existential angst."

"I'm sure you'd be fine even if you did that! You were deathly afraid of trains a few hours ago and now you're riding one already! So quit fretting and get an idea already!" Lyra shut the windigo up with a well placed jab. "Seriously, you're the most useless ghost I've ever had trailing me!"

"Really? There were others?" Snowy blinked at the remark.

Lyra only answered by throwing a piercing stare the windigo's way. Snowy gulped, lay down on the floor and hid her head under her legs.

"You're scaring me," Bon grimaced and held a hoof to her right eye. "Oh, I knew I shouldn't have trusted those shams in the Dancing Lights. Don't worry, Lyra. We'll be home tomorrow... and then I'm going to have a doc take a look at your head. A real one."

"I haven't gone insane!" Lyra burst into a louder yell, successfully attracting the attention of the other two passengers in their car. "And no, I haven't hit my head either. I was just talking to Snowy here. Snowy, say something!"

"She still can't hear me," the windigo muttered from the floor.

"You're not helping!" Lyra sneered at the poor creature.

Truth be told, she wasn't helping her own cause too much either.

"Oh-kaay... say, Lyra, what about taking a little nap?" Bon patted the cushion next to her. "I know you didn't sleep much last night... and, well, neither did I. So I'm sure you're as sleepy as I am, haha! This hot air isn't helping either..."

Just as on their way to the mountains, the train was moving with the heaters working at their highest setting. Both Lyra and Bon were drenched in sweat, drinking one bottle of water after another; at the generous prince of two bits apiece, the train company was making a small fortune on them. It was a little worse for Lyra; the salty sweat made her bandage itch like crazy, and she couldn't really do anything about it. She had tried to rub it when it got too bad, but the white textile absorbed her movements all too well. She had to push real hard to get some effect; but that made her wound hurt renewed in turn, so she had quit struggling rather abruptly.

She simply ground her teeth instead. She also imagined herself slapping the living daylights out of the pony who had set the heaters to 'toast'. That helped... a little. Her shoulder still itched, after all.

All in all, she felt uncomfortable in many interesting ways. Being sleepy wasn't among them, however.

"You still don't believe me," she sighed and dipped her head low. A few drops of sweat landed on the floor right away, her nose acting as a miniature roof channel. She cast a longing glance at the window and shook her head. Rubbing herself against the cold glass may have felt good, but was also beneath her dignity.

For now.

"Look, I already said I'm sorry! What more can I do?" Bon smacked her head into the separator panel behind her, also throwing her hoof into a cushion at the same time. "I'm used to you claiming outlandish stuff. I laughed when you thought you saw a flying spaghetti monster, remember? But you never acted this convincingly before. Frankly, Lyra? This isn't fun any more! You're simply being crazy... and I would really appreciate if you had quit this prank already."

Lyra groaned loudly and shook herself. Her mane flung all the way around her, slapping her on both sides; and also showered her immediate environment with drops of sweat. That would have been a rather unwelcome move in a crowded train; thank Celestia that wasn't the case.

"I'm so not in the mood for this!" Bon yelled and slammed her on the head anyway. "Didn't I tell you to stop being weird!"

It wasn't the force of the blow, but Lyra collapsed immediately. She narrowed her eyes and glared at Bon; but she dare not say a word. She forgot in her excitement - and later frustration - how close she was to the threshold of Bon's patience. A good general always knew when to abandon a lost battle, and the sulking Lyra withdrew to the floor.

Bon registered the victory by huffing loudly. She sprang up and turned to the window, making sure the move was as flashy as possible. She was done and the conversation was over.

Without anything else to divert her attention, Lyra felt the minutes take forever to pass. The monotone clacking of the train was making her head ache, each clack louder and louder until they became colossal bangs of a storm drum, the thunderous noise reverberating inside her head. The heat didn't stop tormenting her either; she was sweating profusely, the thick streams of salty water gathering on her forehead, dripping into her eyes, seeping under her bandages and generally making her as miserable as possible.

Having had almost died out there, she hated the cold as much as anypony possibly could. But she couldn't recall being so fed up during her entire struggle back to the château than she was now, lying in a slowly growing pool of her own sweat. She could at least imagine herself looking all sorts of cool when she was daring the snow, after all. Right now, she only felt uncomfortable and utterly humiliated. No silver lining to that.

Clack.

Clack.

Ca-clack.

Clack.

Having spent most of her life pulling chords to all sorts of paces, Lyra could easily get the hang of that rhythm. Clack. Clack. Ca-clack. She kept her eyes on Bon, making sure the earth pony wasn't looking her way; then she lifted her head from the floor... and let it crash back down when the train jumped again.

It wasn't a big hit nor did it sound like one. It was so minor, in fact, that Bon didn't even take notice; she remained in the same posture, staring out the window while fuming in complete silence.

Dang, Lyra grumbled and rose her head back up again. A little higher this time, actually.

"Is Master feeling all right?"

Lyra glanced to the side and found herself locking eyes with a perplexed windigo. She moved her gaze back to Bon, but her friend was still busy acting as if she had been paralysed. Lyra would have been terrified of such a Bon - that foreboding calm was like a volcano preparing to erupt - but this once she felt glad she wasn't being chewed out just yet.

"No," she whispered, her lips only moving on the right side of her mouth. "Not really."

"Figured that much," Snowy remarked and went back to hiding beneath the dubious safety of her legs.

That's all you were curious about?! Lyra thought and threw her head against the floor. This impact was forceful enough to knock her teeth against each other; but it got no other reaction either.

"So hot in here..." she turned to whining instead. That seemed like a safe topic. Bon was also sweating, so surely she wouldn't take affront to complaining about something that plagued both of them.

"Yes," Bon hissed, her blue eyes narrowing to a slit. "Quite hot."   

Oooh frig, Lyra gulped at that concise reply. Somepony was in trouble.

"That reminds me... I spent my whole night on the top of a drawer," Snowy lifted one of her legs, allowing her to sneak a peek at her Master with one eye. "Would it be a problem if I..."

"Sure, sure! Whatever!" Lyra whispered absent-mindedly. She was much more focused on the threat of an angry Bon unfolding right in front of her eyes; she could care less what a stupid windigo was about to do. She tried to organize her thoughts, imagine what Bon could attack her with and build counter-arguments to them; or she could have simply pre-empted the whole argument by apologizing and confessing her mistakes, a tactic that had always proved successful in the past. She really didn't want to admit to Snowy not being real, but there was no way she could prove the existence of a creature only she could see or hear. If only-

A wave of chill ran down her side. Lyra had no idea where it came from, but she felt really happy about it nevertheless. It was such a welcome relief from the oppressive heat that she lost the track of her own thoughts. She leaned towards the cold, stretched her neck and broke into a purr, a most satisfied grin on her face.

Her own little heaven.

"This is sooo nice," she gave in to the urge and broke into a shiver. She felt completely rejuvenated and got better by the moment.

"Is... is it? Yay! Hurra- I mean- splendid!" she heard Snowy exclaim, the windigo's voice uncharacteristically happy. "I'm helping!"

Lyra popped her eyes open and blinked at the celebrating windigo. Snowy was still lying on the wooden floor, but she was no longer hiding her face from the sight of her Master. Her head was held high, her ears perked all the way up; she was looking like a flag hoisted high, confident and proud.

It didn't take more than a passing glance at that sight to make Lyra feel incredibly dumb. She had been roasting for hours long, going as far as talking about her personal cooling system without ever getting the bright idea of actually turning the thing on.

There was only one way she could react to that. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and smacked herself in the face.

"Okay, I guess I do need to get my head checked."

"Stop it," Bon seethed and moved her eyes to the left, her piercing stare going right through Lyra. "Hitting yourself won't help you one bit."

Lyra recoiled at the icy voice and snapped her attention to Bon with a terrified gulp; but she recovered her smug confidence right in the next a moment. 

Snowy unknowingly handed the winning card to her. All she had to do was to play it properly.

"It's hot in here, isn't it?" she grinned and ran a hoof down her wet mane. "It would be sure nice if we weren't turned into roasted ponies, eh?"

"We already asked the crew about that. You also heard they can't adjust the heating," Bon snorted and turned her entire head towards her astoundingly annoying friend. Her face was like a bad sculpture - an abstract shape bereft of emotions. "You won't score any brownie points with acting so inane. Do you even know how angry I am at you?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm in for a sound lesson," Lyra made a nervous giggle and ran her hoof down her mane. "That's why I'm trying to get back on your good side... before it's too late, hehe. Snowy, could you come over here? To the window, I mean."

"I just told you to stop this nonsense-" Bon growled. If her tone was of any indication, she would have breathed fire if ponies were physically capable of such feat.

Her anger-induced explosion was cut in the bud however. Her mouth - already moving as she was forming a word - dropped and remained hanging; her eyes darted around, her intimidating stare nowhere to be found.

She couldn't see Snowy prancing in front of her, but she could feel the cold the windigo left in her wake. That was enough to finally shatter her previously invincible confidence.

"Oooh," Snowy purred like a cat as she arrived to the window. She stamped in one spot, turning around and around as if she was looking for a place to settle. "It feels very nice in this spot! There are... hmm, what's this... two straight lines of heat, just beneath the floor. How curious! Curious and most filling, yes. Not too hot but very well regulated, mm."

Lyra watched the windigo break into a shiver, the faint outlines of the creature growing more pronounced.

"Two lines of heat," she repeated the words absent-mindedly. She could only think about the words with some seconds of delay, the unusual image tying down most of her mind.

"Lines of heat?" Bon also joined into the echo-game. She had the advantage of not seeing the ghostly windigo, so her head remained a little clearer. "The steam pipes to the heating could be running there I guess, but... but how would you know about that?"

"Steam pipes... ha! Hadn't thought of that," Lyra laughed. She shifted back to her left, to her original spot; she was only following the cold, and Snowy moved to her other side.

"You hadn't thought... yeah, I guess you wouldn't think of such things," Bon mumbled. She looked all sorts of confused as she turned to the window. The joints in her neck appeared to malfunction; her head only moved in short, clearly separate jumps, like gears that were not oiled and now ground against each together.

That was the sweetest sign for Lyra in the last... well, in the last few days. Even if she was happy about having escaped Bon's wrath, she was still marginally happier back when she had crossed the ridge and saw the black rocks of the Dancing Lights appear in front of her.

"Care to add anything?" she yanked her muzzle upwards, staring at Bon like how the warlords of old days would look at their defeated enemies. 

Sweet, sweet victory.

"It's... nice and cold..." Bon muttered and collapsed onto her cushion, her eyes still darting around the window. It was obvious how she was trying - trying real hard - to spot something, anything there; but kept coming up empty nevertheless. "Could you... could you repeat that story again?"

"Only since you asked real nice," Lyra smirked and licked her dried lips. That reminded her of something and she yanked two bottles of water from the overhead bin. She opened both of them and was about to send one Bon's way when a new idea struck her. She turned to Snowy with a sly grin and floated both bottles to her.

The windigo glanced at the see-through bottles and promptly drew a blank. She gazed at her Master, at a loss and awaiting for some instruction. Or just a vague description. Or really anything about what she was supposed to do with two ordinary bottles.

"Some cooling, if I may?" Lyra asked with a warm smile and a slightly overly sweet tone. She wasn't trying to be sarcastic; she just assumed that her intent was clear enough on its own. "Don't freeze them to ice, though. I want to drink this."

"Ah-ha!" Snowy nodded. Her confidence returned to her right away; she was back to doing what she did best. The windigo's eyes flashed and Lyra felt her unicorn magic getting disturbed by an unseen force; but nothing else happened, only the train rocked a little as it crossed a pair of intersecting tracks.

"Done and done," Snowy gave her master a salute.

Lyra promptly retrieved the bottles. It was easy to tell that they were indeed cold; their sides were moist. She yanked one bottle to her mouth and took a gulp. It was the best drink she had in a long while, the cold water soothing her mouth and her insides like the legendary medicines of silly theatre plays.

"Aww... this is good!" she exclaimed and lifted the bottle in the air, giving Snowy a curt nod. She then grabbed the other bottle and passed it to Bon. "Here, drink up! It's all cold and everything."

Bon eyed the moist bottle as if it had taken its own cap off and was waving it at her. She sniffed the glass bottle and rotated it around, inspecting every inch of its surface with utmost care. 

In the meanwhile, Lyra took another sip from her bottle and chuckled to herself. It was really funny to see Bon get so paranoid and suspicious all of a sudden. Almost adorable.

Bon finally gave in and shrugged. She clasped her hooves on the sides of the bottle and poured some into her mouth.

"It's... cold!" she gasped and broke into a cough. Her surprise was so high that she forgot about swallowing properly and choked on the water. "It's cold water!"

"Well duh," Lyra knocked her bottle against the side of her head. "Snowy's a refrigerator - she makes stuff cold. Can't quite turn water into wine yet though."

"I'm a... refrigerator?" Snowy tilted her head to the side and scratched her temple. "I'm not quite sure what that thing is, but... I suppose I can be anything Master wishes me to be..."

"It was a joke," Lyra sighed and pushed the cold bottle against her forehead.

"I know it was a joke," Bon groaned and mimicked the idea, holding the cold glass against her head with a hoof. "I'm surprised, not stupid."

"Wait, what? I wasn't talking to you!" Lyra waved both her front hooves at her friend. "I know you're not stupid!"

"So refrigerators are some kind of jokes?" Snowy sank even deeper into confusion. "It's really astounding how much Equestria changed over the years."

"Oh - you were talking to your imaginary pet?" Bon raised one of her eyebrows.

"No! I mean yes, I was talking to- NO! She's not an 'imaginary' pet! For Celestia's sake, she just cooled your water!" Lyra yanked her hooves back and used them to keep her head from exploding. "And you! No, no, no! Refrigerators are things! Things you use to cool things down! I mean other things! I mean- DARGH! You're making me sooo confused!"

"It's all right, Master!" Snowy hit a sympathetic tone. "I became rather good at being confused. I could give a few pointers if Master so desires."

The wrinkles above her eyebrows becoming one straight line, Lyra wondered if she should try and throw her bottle at the creature.





"So she's... standing here? Right here, I mean?" Bon waved a hoof across Snowy's blue shape.

The windigo endured the experiment quite stoically. It helped how she wasn't looking that way; she had grown pretty bored with being made to sit in one place and had started to fiddle around, distracting Lyra from retelling her tale. The outside world zipping by excited her for some bizarre reason though, so the window became a perfect way to distract Snowy in turn.

"Yeah," Lyra nodded. "You just waved, well... through her."

"Oh!" Bon bit onto her lip and yanked her hoof back, looking at the appendage as if she was expecting something to show on it. "Awkward."

"Yeah," Lyra made another, shallower nod and reached for her bottle of water. She had seen ponies outright walk through Snowy already, so she wasn't entirely moved by such sights any more.

"And she can her me speak," Bon continued her recount of the tale. Or, well, whatever details she considered important of the whole thing.

"Sure can," Lyra's third nod became so small that even she wouldn't have classified it as one. "You do hear us, right, Snowy?"

"Why are the rocks moving so fast when the stars are sitting still?" Snowy responded, her eye still locked on the world outside.

"Sure she does!" Lyra declared without much fanfare. "And as for your question... I guess they are a little further away, don't you think?"

I don't think she has ever travelled this fast before, she thought to herself as she took a better look at the windigo. Heh. She's almost like a foal, in a way. So easily amused.

"Spooky," Bon broke into a shiver and settled back onto her cushion. "Never thought that amulet would have really been magical. Neither did the viscount, I guess..."

"Wait, it was the viscount's amulet?" Lyra blinked with a quizzed face, then shook her head. "Never mind that! I think they did, actually. I mean, I was sent there so I could get into trouble and awaken Snowy. Then they thought I had failed and tried to get the amulet back from my corpse, remember?"

"No, I don't. I'm actually actively trying to forget about that," Bon groaned and bumped her head into the cushion next to hers.

"Forget? Why!" Lyra sprang to her hooves. She towered above her friend and was one step short of stomping into her side. "Which part of tried to murder me did you miss?"

"The part where you had any solid evidence and didn't just jump conclusions," Bon sighed and rolled until her face was completely buried into the cushion. "As things are, it's just your word against a noble's. Good luck with that!"

"I have always told Master that poking the upper caste is a bad idea," Snowy took the chance to proclaim her hard-earned lessons about a society that mostly stopped existing a few hundred years ago. "Well, at least Master got to keep her head! I was always worried that-"

"So what if I don't have any? They still lured me into a trap!" Lyra cut into her ghost's words without the slightest care.

"I thought it was you following somepony into a place you clearly knew you had no business in," Bon mumbled. It was a little hard to understand her - the cushion filtered her voice just a little too well.

"So what! They still counted on me falling into that pit! Or... well, a pit. Sooner or later," Lyra pouted and turned away angrily, pacing back and forth in the small area their 'room' was. "So what if it was an accident! Let's look at it a little differently. It didn't have to be me - it could have been anypony else! It could have been you, don't you understand that? You said you were worried about me... well how do you think I would feel if you never came back? How will the friends of the next poor bloke feel?"

Bon didn't answer to that one. She just shuddered.

"And you know what's the worst thing? They will try again," Lyra declared with absolute confidence. The mere thought upset her too, turning her light steps into loud bangs. "They don't know that I walked away with Snowy... so they will keep trying to get her out of that amulet. We both know what that means, right? Ponies are going to suffer... until somepony braves up and does something!"

"And what do you suppose we do?" Bon pulled her legs to her torso and rolled to the side, looking up at Lyra from the ground. "Let's say we went to the Guard. What would you tell them? That a respected viscount is running dangerous experiments, under the guise of a ski park? All to crack a magic amulet that had a windigo inside? I'm sure they would all start running at your behest and reprehend that evildoer right away... instead of just, you know, giving you a few pills and sending you to a psychiatrist."

"You're such a pessimist," Lyra rolled her eyes and made another circle in their confined space. "They would at least look into the case! That would be something. They could uncover something."

"Yeah. They could uncover that you got half-frozen after an accident and came back so out of your mind that you broke into a train station!" Bon joined in the eye-rolling and relaxed, her head plopping back onto the red cushion. "Face it, Lyra. This is a losing battle. You can't win this game."

"So what! I'm not letting this just slide! You know - all it takes for evil to win is that good ponies do nothing!" Lyra flung a hoof at the separator panel, the thin piece of wood booming loudly under her attack. The move hurt herself just as much; but the pain only served to feed her fury, reminding her just how she got wounded in the first place. "Looking the other way... that just don't feel right and you know that!"

"I only know that you spend too much time in theatres for your own good. You're too used to shining knights riding into town and saving the day, followed by an aria and a shower of flower petals," Bon explained with a dry chuckle. "I get your point though... sorry if I upset you. I'll try to... well, I'll try to think of something. Does that sound good enough?"

Lyra chewed on thin air as she mused. That was a little more than a hollow promise and she knew that much. She had no reason to be happy about it. It was actually a realistic promise on the other hoof, much closer to practicality than her unreasonably high expectations.

"Fine," she made a frown and sneaked a glance at her aching, bandaged shoulder. "I'll hold you to this one, though! So you better-"

"WOAHH!" Snowy broke into an excited yell, pretty much out of the blue. She also sprang up and glued her face and front hooves onto the window, her excitement palpable. "There's a HUGE fire out there! I like! I like! I like! I like! Master! Master, can we go there?"

Seems like my ghostly foal found her candy-shop, Lyra facehooved. She remained in that posture until she has calmed down a little; then she hobbled to the window herself, curious about the disaster her windigo had spotted.

She was relieved to see there was nothing such going on, however.

"Oh! Oh, you mean that thing," Lyra quenched a laugh and tried to pat the windigo on the head. Her hoof went through the ghostly figure, so strictly speaking it was a fail; but she was sure it was the sentiment that counted. "That's no fire, you silly ghost. That's Canterlot."

She could see why somepony not versed in the modern Equestria would make that mistake, however.

The capitol was a remarkable construct. It sat on a steep mountainside, its pearly white walls and golden domes glistening in the daylight; and its many tall towers dancing in the light of a thousand torches and other light sources at night. The tracks of their train didn't get too close to it, so the city was just a huge, incredibly bright spot on an otherwise dark mountain. It was kind of natural that a windigo would confuse that kind of light with a fire - especially if it happened to be a glutton, imagining snacks wherever the possibility arose.

"Canterlot," Snowy echoed the word, her crimson eyes losing focus for a split second. "I... think I remember that name. Old Master used to mention it in passing. Something about an old hag moving in there after she 'took the whole throne for herself'... or some such. Old Master used to grumble a lot, so I can't remember all of those with clarity..."

"Whelp... that's rich, calling Celestia like that. Didn't your old master's family, like, receive their very land from her?" Lyra shook her head in disbelief. "Sounds like he was a nice fellow. I bet he had a LOT of friends."

"Celestia? Hmm, no... I don't recall that name either," Snowy pulled her face back from the glass, leaving a small patch where the surface fogged up immediately. "He didn't receive the land from anypony such for certain. It was somepony else... some other royalty. That sponsor must have fallen out of grace however. I remember old Master receiving the news of that! He was livid - more livid than I ever saw anypony be. He broke all the furniture in his rage, even splintered the rocks in the wall. It was really quaint, him acting like that."

"As I said, he must have been a real nice-" Lyra groaned - right until she noted Bon settling to her side. Her friend wound up sitting right inside Snowy, looking as if the earth pony had a blue aura shimmering around her.

Lyra's reaction to that awkward situation was a little less responsible than she hoped it would be.

Woah... that looks wicked cool.

"Canterlot, huh?" Bon eyed the distant city with a yawn. She didn't look all too interested whatsoever - and Lyra couldn't blame her for that.

The novelty of that sight had worn a little thin when one could see it every time she peeked out the window.

"WOAH!"

Bon and Lyra recoiled and spun around in perfect unison, both of them ready to scream at the startling voice. There was no need for anything such though. A red pegasus was standing behind them, his eyes measuring both of them with a quizzed stare. Lyra recalled him; that was the pony who helped her into the train earlier.

Snowy had acted agitated until she saw Lyra calming down; then she went straight back to staring at Canterlot.

"Is there a problem?" Bon came to first.

"Nah, it's cool," the pegasus blinked and shuddered. He opened his wings and made a few beats with them, filling the air with red feathers and mixing the hotter air of the wagon with the cooler one that Snowy generated. "I mean, I came to ask what ya'll were yellin' 'bout... but t'is really cool in 'ere. How'd ya' do this?"

As Lyra had to admit, that was a really tricky question. Mostly because the only answer she could think of wouldn't have been appropriate to say to a complete stranger.

"I haven't the slightest!" Bon shrugged and broke into a deceitful giggle. "I guess the heating broke down here? It was like this all the way here."

"Really? Aww, ya' couldda' told us! We're burnin' up over thar'!" the pegasus folded his wings and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Yeah... somepony thinks these trains are running through the frigid north I guess," Bon giggled again and poked her friend in the side.

Lyra may not have been a certified mind-reader, but she had no difficulties in deducing the motive behind that move.

Help me out a little, will you? Say something already!

"I... uh... yeah. It's really hot in here," she mumbled, then got to watch as Bon struggled to keep herself from slamming her face into the nearest solid object.

"No kiddin'. Hey..." the red pegasus glanced away with embarrassment, and everypony knew what he was going to ask even before he got to actually asking. "...would ya' mind if me and me buddy came ova' 'ere? I know it's a lil' awkward, but we're 'bout ready to go mad in that sauna."

Lyra was pretty sure she didn't want any other passengers that close. She had made some good progress in introducing Bon to Snowy and didn't want to be stopped just now; not to mention the other topics she also wanted to discuss.

On the other hoof, just flat out refusing that request could have made her look like a jerk.

Then again, she didn't know that pegasus. In which case she couldn't have cared less.

Though, if she viewed the situation as a test of principles...

"Sure. Hop over here," Bon shrugged, demonstrating her immunity to the never-ending mental loops Lyra had been prone to.

"Thanks, miss'. Much appreciated!" the pegasus gave them a token bow and then turned away from them, waving wildly with a hoof. "AYE! BUD'! AYE! COME OVER 'ERE! YA' WON'T BELIEVE HOW COOL THIS 'ERE END IS!"

Well, I guess we covered enough ground for one night, Lyra thought as she moved onto the cushion closest to the window. She felt a lot more comfortable since she had cooled down; so she might as well make the most of the uncomfortable situation.

Time to take a brief nap!
> 11 - Going home
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

All the places around the world develop their own scent, just as their living inhabitants do as well. Sometimes it's an intentional process, as marked by the thin trails of smoke, rising from burning incenses; sometimes only as a by-product, the stench of work seeping into the walls as it lingers in the air; and other times by random chance of fate.

Nostrils widening as she took a deep sniff, Lyra wasn't sure which category their home would fall into. They had never really paid great care about the smell, after all. They did clean regularly, but even despite the detergents - or maybe because of them? - the rooms slowly got their own olfactory hoofprints. Not some strong, overpowering sensation but more of a hint; a hint most ponies would miss, only readily apparent to the two who knew what to smell for.

It was smell they were well acquainted with.

A smell truly soothing her spirit.

Blehh. I'm as melancholic as if I were an old hag! Lyra ran her gaze across the dimly lit interior. Not feeling like her regular self had evoked a number of emotions from her; this once she was just annoyed at her own self. Seriously. We've been away for... uh, how long exactly?

The answer eluded her; she had to go as far as to actually rewind the events in her mind to get a rough idea. Rewind real fast that was; the sheer memories of dragging herself across the snowy hillside made her shiver.

Ugh. Sure glad that's over with. I really have no idea why I even bother to remember those things!

"Home, sweet home!" Bon sighed loudly. She had been moving ahead of Lyra; not by much, just enough to allow her to open the door in front of her wounded friend. "Well, one thing's for sure! I certainly never missed this place so much after one single week of vacation before, haha!"

The light-hearted comment drew a sombre grin from Lyra. Indeed, they had left for the mountains roughly a week ago.

Only one single week, Lyra shook her head with disbelief. Certainly felt more.

That week had proved long enough to threaten her life with change more drastically than anything else in the last ten years. Ever since she had started her music career and had moved in with Bon, that is.

"Master's home is a little dim."

Lyra didn't even bother looking that way any more. There was really no need to either; she could easily recognise the windigo by voice alone. She had grown pretty familiar to her familiar.

"The shutters are still closed," she pointed out and hobbled a few steps forward, careful that she didn't put any strain on her stitches. She had been getting used to that thing as well. The wound got less and less in her way, a development she could readily approve of. A bit too rapid development, perhaps; but she was nopony to complain about that. She simply surmised that she had become accustomed to the injury, her less conscious movements finally adjusting as well. She would still hiss and clench her teeth after the more unlucky motions, but those have become rarer occasions.

"I know! I know, right? Real gloomy in here," Bon yelled back from the living room. "I'm opening them in a sec! Just be a little patient, okay? Need to put these bags down first..."

I so need a code to let her know when I'm talking to a ghost, Lyra rubbed her head. She ran her gaze back to the door behind her and worked her magic a little. The brown wood moved with a faint creek and slammed shut, plunging the small hall into utter darkness.

"Master's home is absolutely dark now," Snowy pointed out and sat next to her master.

Lyra paid the windigo an annoyed glance... then promptly forgot about her irritation, her passing discovery amusing her greatly. Shutters still lowered and the door behind her closed, there were no sources of light left around her. As such, her eyes became useless; she couldn't even see her own nose, a sensation she had always found amusing and distressing at the same time.

The only image she could make out were the blue outlines of a ghostly body... and two crimson-red eyes, belonging to the same creature.

With no background to speak of, the windigo was glowing like a neon sign. That wouldn't have surprised Lyra much - she understood the concept of contrast. Snowy was barely visible under normal circumstances; but leave her as the sole source of light and she would appear to be shining like a beacon.

The windigo definitely was no real beacon, however. While she was shining, that light didn't illuminate anything around, not even the floor Snowy was sitting on.

Lyra blinked at the surreal image. Then she rubbed her eyes, shrugged and decided to ignore the weird phenomenon. Snowy had always been breaking all the rules of reality she knew of. Nothing new there.

So not useful as a flashlight either, Lyra sighed and moved her hoof from her eye to the side of her head.

Another thing her 'useful' servant was no good at. Sadly nothing new there either.

Can't believe I signed a contract for this... loud-mouthed fridge!

She couldn't dwell deeper into lethargy. A loud bang sounded from the living room, startling the musician. The rest of her senses also started working shortly afterwards. Colours and shapes, everything came back as light found its way into the house once again.

"Master's home is-" Snowy began to chirp, but got shot down mid-sentence.

"Say that one more time and I'm... uh..." Lyra growled, her righteous anger ebbing a little when she realized how she had no credible threats to a ghost. Not like being short on sound arguments had ever stopped her for too long. "I'll send you to the corner!"

Snowy flinched and made rapid blinks.

"Is there a problem with the corner?" she finally asked, tilting her head to the side and turning to her master with the same move. "I understand Master intended to punish me, but... a corner?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll find out," Lyra grumbled ominously and hobbled toward the living room. She felt real embarrassed about the lame threat - and for the same reason she hadn't expected it to go over the ghost's head by such a wide margin.

"Master, what is in the corner?" Snowy hopped right in front of her pony master. She sounded excited and tense, her crimson eyes focusing on Lyra as if the pony had uttered some ancient secret that should have been lost in the mists of time.

"At this rate, a completely idiotic ghost is going to be!" Lyra rolled her eyes and moved through the ghost. Despite only using three legs, she marched towards the largest room of their house with determined - though not really graceful - steps. She only stumbled when she heard the badly muffled mumbling coming from behind her.

"Ah, I see! I better be careful around this Master as well, then... I don't think I like ghosts all too much."





The thing didn't change texture or taste, no matter how Lyra jabbed it with her teeth or poked it with her tongue. The latter was a rather peculiar sensation, one she could only liken to eating dried mud. 

"You're making faces again."

Using the best of her table-manners and most of her self-control, Lyra turned to Bon and faked an honest-to-Celestia smile. It took a gargantuan effort on her part and she succeeded splendidly. If only she could muster the same strength to get herself to swallow that stale piece of bread she had been chewing for the last few minutes...

"Still making faces," Bon rolled her eyes with a weary sigh.

Lyra gave up on the grin and refocused her efforts. She steeled her nerves, closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Then she tilted her head upwards and gulped. It was a ridiculously theatrical way to eat, but she could suffer that much when she had just achieved victory over the first bite of her overdue breakfast.

This had easily been the most problematic buttered bread she had ever had the misfortune to meet. It didn't prove to be a very long acquaintance, though.

"Oh for the- just don't eat it if you don't like it!" Bon screeched and yanked the plate from the struggling musician. "What were you expecting?! Everything here is at least a week old! I specifically asked you if you wanted to eat something before I went shopping!"

That much was true. Lyra did recall a brief conversation to that effect.

"But I was hungry," she mumbled and glanced away from the table.

She really was. The food on the train hadn't been any good on the way back.

"Well, you're obviously not hungry enough!" Bon huffed and bit into the same slice of bread Lyra had struggled with before.

Lyra couldn't help but flinch at that sight. That bread was everything bread should have not been. It had been left in a bag, becoming doughy and tasteless while they were away; it surely would have sprouted mould had they came back just a few days later.

For a pony to eat that stuff without any distaste whatsoever - Lyra had thought that to be quite inconceivable.

The oft-forgotten joys of coming home, she thought as she placed her face into her hoof. Anything but looking at Bon eat that... thing.

"Master is high maintenance," Snowy remarked. Her ghostly form was leaning to the oven, a mere step away from the table the ponies were at. "Then again, most living things are. I guess I'm lucky I'm in that regard."

"Pffft, yeah. You're just an undemanding dunce!" Lyra cackled to herself. A being who only dined on heat had no place to criticise her.

Somepony else had also offered some of that criticism, however; in the form of a thrown dish, no less. Lyra received the commentary very gracefully. She did a perfect quarter spin as the wooden plate hit her head, followed by an immaculate landing on her right side. That finishing move was less eloquent than it could have been; the injury under her bandages made sure she regretted dropping the wrong way.

"I'm NOT undemanding!" Bon slammed her hooves onto the table. "If anything, you're the one who's pampered!"

It took a little while for Lyra to realize just what had gone wrong. Then she sighed and rolled onto her belly, cringing as the move pulled the skin under her bandages again.

"Master's friends still look pretty scary," Snowy whistled. She had been crouching on the stove, surveying the small kitchen from that elevation, like cats do when alerted by loud noise.

You scaredy useless goof, this is all your fault! Lyra shot an angry glare at the ghost as she reached to give her injured shoulder a rub. That wasn't a really fair assessment and she knew that much; but she couldn't help blaming the ghost for the mishap anyway. It was really easy to forget how nopony else could hear or see Snowy, which made her odd interjections really difficult to handle.

I need to pay attention to the things I say, eh?

"Sooooorry!" Lyra made a protracted apology until she had used up all the air from her lungs.

"You better be!" Bon pointed a hoof at the musician. "And don't you dare calling me a dunce again!"

"Heh. You know I wouldn't!" Lyra peeked at her friend. While the sight of Bon's barely contained rage would normally fill her with despair, she enjoyed it this once. She already had a solid plan to turn the situation around - and she was savouring the sweet revenge she could so rarely indulge in. It was certainly worth the throbbing headache. "See, I was just being annoyed by my good-for-nothing ghost over there."

"Oh! Have I annoyed Master again?" Snowy blinked and sprang up. "I must have. Now thinking about it..."

The image of the translucent, blueish pony standing on their stove made Lyra ponder whether it was still safe to cook anything there. She had no idea about proper kitchen hygiene when ghosts came into the picture.

She finally decided that she'd get Bon clean the place, just to be on the safe side.

"I shall tirelessly work myself to get back into Master's good graces!" Snowy made a quick oath, her eyes closed and a hoof pointed at her temple. "I swear I shall never stop until Master refers to me as some ordinary ghost no more! ...it was kind of dignified to be called a windigo. Old Master did that lots. When he didn't refer to me as a demon, that is. Still, demons are also of a rank higher than ordinary ghosts..."

THAT'S ALL WHAT YOU'RE HAVING A PROBLEM WITH?! Lyra felt her high spirit crack, her head dropping to the side.

A mentally deficient fridge without any actual uses. That ghost couldn't have been anything else.

"Wha- what?" Bon blinked, her firm pose melting as confusion and doubt started setting in. "Oh... the ghost. I forgot about that ghost. So you mean... you didn't say that to me?"

"Nope," Lyra dropped her head into a hoof.  She didn't get to savour that sweet victory, in the end. Her servant-stupidity-induced headache was way too great to permit anything such. Such a pointless way to lose her good mood, too.

"Well... still serves you well!" Bon shrugged and settled back to eating the week-old bread. "How many times did I tell you to think before you talk? Use your head for something already."

Lyra tried to think of a proper response to that admonishing comeback. The only proper answer she could come to was simply letting her head slip from her hoof and hit the floor, nose-first.

"Master seems to be in need of a proper vacation," Snowy offered a suggestion, still fiddling atop the stove.

"You're the last I want to hear that from," Lyra grumbled. Then broke into a pitiful whimper, realizing how she just made a perfectly legit reply to Bon as well.

A perfectly legit reply that would no doubt incur repercussions.

"A-N-Y-WAY!" Bon clapped her hooves. "I think we need to get a few things done today, wouldn't you agree?"

Still face-down on the floor, Lyra didn't dare move or even look at her friend. She was absolutely certain that she had pushed all the wrong buttons and Bon was just waiting for the chance to extract horrible, horrible vengeance on her now.

"Since you don't like my breakfast and we have nothing fresh to cook with either, I think it'll the best for both of us if I just up myself and get the shopping done!" Bon declared. She sounded oddly indifferent; a sure sign that she was forcing herself to remain calm... the last step before she exploded into something dangerous. Or outright vile. Or both.

Usually both.

Whimpering on the floor and trying to curl into the smallest ball possible, Lyra just couldn't wait for that to happen.

"I wanted to keep you at home... but you have obviously gotten better now," Bon continued in the same foreboding, subdued done. "So I have no qualms about trusting a little errand to you."

That's... not so bad, Lyra realized and lifted her head up. Bon had already been staring at her, a sly grin occupying the beige pony's face.

"I don't trust those crooks in that blue-blood's employ too much," Bon leaned forward, onto the table. "So I want you to get a second opinion."

"A second opinion?" Lyra mused aloud. There was some sense in the idea; there was no way she could trust the medical crew of the Dancing Lights. There was no telling how implicit they had been to the shady dealings. However, all she had suffered was a bad wound - and that had been stitched together pretty well already. Why would she need to get another doctor see it? Had there been any problem with the treatment, she would have surely felt the effects already... be that pain or bleeding.

"Yeah! A second opinion," Bon narrowed her eyes. Her smile also deepened in parallel, her lips parting until the very last of her molars showed. "I want you to go to the doctor and get a thorough check. You can do that much on your own, right? No need to drag you there, right?"





"Not sure I understand everything correctly," Snowy scratched her head. "Master being treated by a proper doctor is a good thing, is it not?"

"But I have already been treated by a proper doctor! You told me that much, in fact!" Lyra rolled her eyes. It wasn't the best decision on her part; she was in the middle of unpacking her bag. Her unicorn magic had obediently followed her gaze, scattering her stuff around the room.

Now she had a bag to pack out and a room to clean up.

Wheeee.

"Indeed! I did say that. That being said!" Snowy broke into an awkward cackle, holding a hoof to the back of her head. "I have absolutely no idea who is trustworthy in this strange new world. Hahaha! It used to be so much simpler before. Old Master would just denounce everypony as unworthy underlings or crazy impostors and keep himself to his own. Nice and clean-cut! I kind of liked that simplicity."

It didn't take much for Lyra to realize why her servant had liked that 'simplicity' so much.

You just enjoyed not being exposed to thinking, didn't you!

"Bon's just making me go through a bunch of demeaning, unnecessary and, well... scary checks again," her true thoughts blurted out from her mouth, way before she had the common sense to look around and make sure no extra pony had been listening in to her rant. "All because she's pissed at me - because you keep babbling nonsense!"

Her heart immediately lighter, Lyra stretched a leg and breathed freely. That was followed by a mighty cringe and hurried glances around... and also lots of praying to Celestia and all the other, long-forgotten gods to save her in case Bon had actually overheard any of that.

Her prayers had been heard. She was alone in the room. Alone, apart from a windigo who was glaring at her with a deeply disapproving expression.

"I only voiced proper concerns. That is part of my duty to Master."

"More like your only duty," Lyra went back to rolling her eyes. She also lifted her wounded leg and kicked a small can of sweets back to the bag. "Seriously, you're no good at anything that comes to mind."

The round tin can bounced into the air and hopped over the bag, clanging on the bed-frame behind. Its broken arc ended on the floor, the circular piece of metal rolling around and disappearing underneath the bed proper.

Le sigh. Still more mayday than my day.

"And for that I do humbly offer my apology once again," Snowy bowed all the way to the floor. "I am sure Master will find some use for me in the future, though."

Lyra wasn't overly touched by hearing the same sentence get repeated yet again. Still, she couldn't blame the windigo too much either. One rarely picked the fate one had to bear.

She didn't really chose to be a musician either. Not entirely. It had just been something she had most affinity with. Under a different alignment of stars, she could have been a mailpony or garbage-collector just as well.

"Whatever," she shrugged her servant's words away all the same. The fact she bore no ill will didn't automatically mean she had to sympathize. She focused on retrieving the escaping piece of junk instead. She hobbled to her bed, swiping the dusty floor with a hoof while cursing herself for not cleaning the place more often.

Much to her surprise, the first thing she caught was a black sock. It was real weird to find one. Those things came in fours... and she had never worn any to her best knowledge. Maybe once, for a specific performance? Though then she should have had three more of them somewhere. She didn't recall having three black socks in any of her drawers.

This isn't even mine, she concluded with a sigh, tossing the dusty piece of clothing behind her.

She resumed her search undaunted. She had been looking forward to those sweets, a wish that could only be granted if their can was not resting under her bed. Teeth gritted and eyes narrowed to a slit, she extended her leg as far as she could and waved it around. Victory favoured the bold and she felt something solid push against her fur. A happy squeal rang in the room; her horn flared up with amber magic, her next catch sliding out from under the bed...

...and Lyra blinked in disbelief when a deep-blue coloured book came to light.

Eh? Eeeeh? EEEH?!

"Master has a strange way to store less-used belongings," Snowy remarked at the sight of a pony rummaging weird things from under her bed. "Old Master used a chest for this purpose. Then again, a full chest would barely fit into this room."

"Heh! Would you look at this - my diary!" Lyra giggled absent-mindedly, the book having taken the entirety of her attention. "I had been looking everywhere for this thing, haha! Simply under my bed... well, ain't this embarrassing. Must have put it there to hide it from Bon. And I was about to give up on it and start a new one, too."

"Better late than never," Snowy nodded heartily, closing one crimson eye and bearing the other on her master. "But - why hide a diary? Wouldn't Master prefer to have it proof-read while Master has the chance to correct it?"

"Proof-read...!" Lyra jolted and shuddered. The mere thought of somepony else peeking into her materialized thoughts scared the living daylights out of her. That her own stupid ghost suggested that much - that barely surprised her, at that point. "Why would I even want that?!"

"Because it would wind up on a library shelf one day?" Snowy began her explanation. She moved her eyes to the ceiling and rubbed her hoof on her chin, unintentionally resembling a famous sculpture about a thinking pony. "Surely when Master's late descendants would read it - centuries later - Master would prefer to not look like some uneducated country bumpkin. That's what old Master was always worried about anyway. That and not appearing in the best light."

"Your previous master wrote his diary just to make himself look cool for his readers?" Lyra cackled with a dry tone. She had long since understood that blue-bloods were a vain bunch, but that was a new kind of low.

A moderately new kind, anyway.

"What else would anypony write a diary for?" Snowy fiddled around and scratched her head. "Books are pretty lasting, far more than their creators. They shape one's legacy! It's only natural Master would prefer her thoughts to get presented in the best light possible."

"Keh. As if I cared what anypony thinks of me," Lyra sighed and cracked the deep-blue book open.

Especially after I'm dead. I mean, seriously. Legacy? More like schmegacy. Who cares.

Nopony who read a book about her would know what her favourite foods were like. Or how she spent her mornings. Or what crossed her head whenever she saw a pretty sunset. The small things that made herself her.

Actually, she had been worried about the opposite, that she might forget about those things herself. Turning into a dull pony - or maturing, as Bon would refer to it - wasn't a prospect that had filled her with joy. So she had written those thoughts into the fancy book she had bought at a discount sale a few years ago. Thoughts may flee her, but she could always rediscover them that way.

"This is just for myself," she continued as she ran her eyes across the hastily scribbled lines of text. "My thoughts are my own."

"Haaa. That's something completely different! Old Master was all about legacy and whatnot. Didn't stop him from forgetting about his own son somehow," Snowy mused as she popped up right behind Lyra, making the pony slam the book closed with a speed nearing that of the light. "Recording thoughts for Master's own convenience... that sounds pretty interesting. I wonder what it would be like, remembering everything with perfect clarity. Would be pretty weird, I suppose."

"What makes you even say that?" Lyra raised her eyebrows as she rubbed the dust off the book's cover. She had nothing but her own coat for the purpose, but she didn't exactly mind getting herself more dusty than she already was. Fiddling under her bed had never been a clean activity. "Everypony wants to remember things. Heck, we're always angry when we forget about details.... like missing a rehearsal because I- uh- somepony forgot about it! Not like I have ever done anything like that... ahaha! Hahah, of course not!"

"It's only natural to forget," Snowy shook her head. "Living things always want to remember, yes... but only the things they wish to remember. No-one wants to be mired in the shadows of their misfortunes for eternity. Moving past means forgetting. The fine details, if nothing else. Dull edges don't hurt so much."

True, I suppose. I wouldn't want to recall all the times I made a fool out of-

Lyra stopped cleaning the book and wrinkled her eyebrows. A strange sensation had taken hold of her; one she could only put into its proper place after some heavy deliberation. Not that the conclusion was any more comforting. She sneaked a glance to her side, to the ghost of hers.

Snowy has been sitting next to her still, the prim expression of the windigo replaced by a content, if slightly sombre smile.

There was something strange about that smile, as Lyra found. Something contradictory.

And the expression wasn't the only thing that puzzled her, either.

"Seems you can mumble something other than nonsense. That was actually quite poignant of you, huh. There's always a first, I guess! But you...you said you can't recall everything about yourself," she mumbled, raising her voice as her loud thinking turned into a proper question. "Wait. Is it possible that you wanted to forget who you were, Snowy?"

The windigo snapped herself to attention right away, her face returning to her usual immaculate, expressionless state.

"I have no idea, Master. I would be surprised if that was the case, to be honest - that's kind of a weird thing to desire. But if I had done so, then I must have succeeded splendidly!"

Lyra pushed the diary under the bed-sheet and then threw herself forward, landing on the soft material herself. Squeezing another perfectly correct answer from the windigo wasn't what she had sought to achieve with the question of hers. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Well, it's all right. I will just try again some other time. When my luck's trending upwards.

"LYRA! ARE YOU STILL MUCKING AROUND IN YOUR ROOM?"

The yell came from behind the closed door of her room. The thin layer of wood didn't do much to its harshness though; Bon's voice boomed in the room as if she was shouting directly into Lyra's ears.

"GET GOING ALREADY! YOU'LL BE LATE FOR THE DOC!"

Frowning and mumbling with her mouth covered by the bed-sheet, Lyra wondered just when she had moved back to living with her mother.





"Fancy city," Snowy chirped excitedly. "Master must be living under a really benevolent liege!"

The first thing Lyra had done was commend herself on her great ability to adapt. She really had no idea she could get used to a constant annoyance that quickly; but she could successfully ignore almost every silly remark that had left Snowy's mouth. The rest she could handle covertly, only having stopped for a facehoof at the worse moments.

She only made scenes when Snowy demonstrated the really deep ends of the windigo 'logic'. 

Those rare moments had almost made Lyra thankful for her bandages. She had a few overly helpful ponies volunteer for help whenever she broke into a random yell, but she could always brush the unwanted help off by pointing at her wounded shoulder and claiming how she had simply ran a little short on breath. The doctor wasn't so far from her home - though to be frank, in a village such as Ponyville, no two places could have been too far away. She didn't need any help to hobble herself to the doc, anyway. She preferred being left alone, so she could at least retort to her persistently stupid ghost without having to worry about somepony misinterpreting her.

It was for the same reason she would have preferred to have stayed at home. She had wanted a good chat with that windigo ever since she had been better; the last time they talked in private was during her ill-fated escapade from the Dancing Lights. She wanted to know more about Snowy, lay down some rules, explore the ghost's capabilities a bit deeper... or rather just see if it had any whatsoever.

She couldn't do any of those in a public street. Nor in a waiting room, for that matter. Talking about waiting rooms...

She really, really hoped it was Nurse Redheart on duty that day. That would have made her visit a little less horrible.

"Oooh! That's... that's PRETTY! I wonder what it tastes like!"

That line had easily passed all the mental filters. Fearing the worst, Lyra glanced to her right, at the translucent creature; but Snowy was still, albeit staring in a strangely excited manner. Lyra stopped and tried to trace the windigo's gaze; a passer-by behind her had failed to anticipate the sudden change in her motion and bumped into her, the red stallion practically bulldozing her into the ground.

Argh! I swear this ghost's only getting me into trou-

Lyra's internal rant was interrupted by more pressing concerns. Two concerns, to be exact; thick wooden wheels that belonged to a cart. Thick wooden wheels that belonged to a cart and had been rolling almost right by her side.

That sight must have been one of the unexplored venues of medicine, for Lyra completely forgot about her anger or the sore spots where the stallion had walked over her back.

The cart had moved over her without any further injury before she could do so much as scream. The red stallion only managed coming to a stop after the cart had fully cleared her; which in turn had given her the fuzzy warm feeling of being safe.

Yay! 

It had also given her a good view of the crate that had tripped and fallen from the back of the cart, straight toward her. Lying in the dust and glancing upwards, Lyra had realized something really perplexing about her own self.

As it turned out, she would smile when she was absolutely pissed off. She only paid the crate a dry chuckle, for example.

You've got to be kidding me!

Even if it were in a funny mood, the crate only cared for practical pranks though. It landed square on Lyra's head, turning onto its side and spilling its contents onto the pony - burrowing her in a small pile of apples. A little apple juice too, as a few of them had split in the process. She noted the latter only when the smell of freshly smashed apples had hit her nose. Lying under a hill of apples and wearing an empty wooden box for a hat, the sweet smell was Lyra's sole consolation as she considered what could have been left of her self-esteem.

She sighed wearily and opened her mouth, taking a bite of the apple nearest to her face.

Well, no need to worry. I'm sure it'll be fine. The folks in the orchestra are absolutely level-headed, mature ponies!

The apple in her mouth was kind of unripe, but Lyra found the acidic taint go well with the generic sweetness. She may get Bon to buy some of those later.

She couldn't afford not to show up to the next rehearsal without any apples, after all. It would be the first day of the next decade where all the other musicians would refer to her as the Applestruck Lyrist, after all. All the mature and level-headed lot of them.

Her self-pity wasn't allowed more time. She began feeling lighter as the apples were shoved away from her back; she was yanked upwards shortly after, the full scene of spilled apples and just as many on-lookers greeting her.

She could have done without the latter.

"You okay?" came a voice from the small crowd.

"Yea... yeah," Lyra sighed bittersweetly and rubbed her mane in a vain attempt work the awkwardness out of her system. There were at least two dozen ponies staring at her, and that definitely wasn't the type of attention her career had prepared her for.

"Watch yer' step next time," another voice came, this one berating her. Perhaps deservedly so. "You coulda' broken a few bones, even."

Trading the awkwardness for frustration, Lyra groaned, her hooves still dangling in air as some unicorns' magic held her aloft. To be honest, that kind of concern had left her cold. She had recently survived way more dangerous situations than anything a single cart was capable of producing.

"Oh, wait! I know her. She's that... musician, right?" a third voice rose from the crowd. This one prompted Lyra to pop her eyes open and nod eagerly, her whole being rejuvenated with energy.

It felt good to be recognized.

"She's the one who was signing last night! Ha, was that good!"

Smacking herself on the face with all her might, Lyra wondered if her day could possibly get any worse. She needn't wait long for the answer; she saw an overeager blue ghost crawling up the side of a nearby bakery, obviously gunning for the three huge candles at the top. She knew the Sugarcube's top was only decoration, the flames nothing but craftily coloured lumps of gypsum; no way Snowy could do anything to those. Too bad that knowledge had easily been offset by the apparent haste with which her ghostly servant had been scaling the building's walls.

"Could you give me a signature?" somepony pushed a paper into her face, out of the blue. "You're the best singer I have ever heard!"

Staring at empty paper with a vacant expression, Lyra opened her mouth and tried to think of something to say. She came up empty though, and turned to the stallion who had ran her over instead.

"Look bud, you kinda' owe me a favour," she giggled dryly. Her left eyebrow twitched; not because she was angry, but because of the overeager fan caressing her face with that stupid piece of paper.

"Eyup," the red stallion cringed visibly. He wasn't really looking at the musician however, his attention drawn to the spilled apples.

"Cool," Lyra nodded, blowing the paper away from her face with a well aimed huff. "Could I call that favour in? I mean, right now?"

"Eee... yup?" the stallion uttered, much more slowly than previously. He rose his green eyes upwards, finally meeting his victim's gaze. He didn't seem too shaken or concerned, to be honest.

You're like, way too damn calm! Lyra grimaced at the disrespectfully calm stallion. Are you running over ponies on a daily basis or what? 

It would have been nice if that were the case.

"Couldn't you just, you know, back up and run over me again? Accidentally? Like a dozen times?" Lyra giggled and knocked the insistently floating paper away from her face. "SERIOUSLY! JUST PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY ALREADY!"

The red stallion was just as unmoved by her plies as he had been by her pains, however.

"Eeee-nup."

Stuck in the embrace of her 'fans', Lyra glared daggers at the stallion and made a silent vow.

Mark my words! I will find who you are and my revenge will know no bound-

"Just one autograph!" the fan tried again. Her aim improved greatly, her white paper landing square on Lyra's face, covering the musician's nose, muzzle and eyes.

Oi! You expect me to write with my eyelashes or something? I can't sign anything like this! Even if I wanted to!

"When will your next performance be? Will you be the lead singer in the Swan Lake next week?"

The paper still covering most of her face, Lyra had no idea who asked that one. Arguably for the better.

What kind of a connoisseur are you anyway?! Why would you drag singers into ballet?

Then a distant shout reached out to her, cutting through the cacophony her 'fans' has made around her.

"MAAASTER! I ALMOST REACHED THEM! THESE FLAMES SURE SEEM COLD THOUGH!"

Somepony just finish me already...!






PATIENTS ARE NOT TREATED IN ORDER OF ARRIVAL. 
TAKE YOUR PLACE AND WAIT PATIENTLY.
DO NOT KNOCK. 
EVER.


The last word had clearly been a later addition to the sign, but carried some official weight all the same. Lyra wasn't sure what to do. She ran her gaze across the empty waiting room and turned back to the door to the doctor's office, weighing the empty room against the sternly worded sign.

She mulled over the issue for a few minutes, hesitantly rising her hoof and then putting it back onto the ground. She closed the issue with a shrug and moved away from the door. She may have been wasting time, waiting for a nurse to actually check if any patients had arrived; but she didn't want to seem rude in case there was somepony already getting treated in there.

She set her sights on the table in the other end of the small waiting area, next to a window and a large potted plant. She hobbled over there quite fluidly; the ease with which she moved almost made her wonder why she needed the fourth leg in the first place. She settled next to the dark-brown piece of furniture, eyeing the magazines littering its surface. Most of them were pretty old, brought in by other patients no doubt; but she was fine with that. She only really needed something to kill time with... and to distract herself from the absolute humiliation she had been subjected to.

If only she had an idea which singer she had been confused with.

No matter. I will just pick a different way back home.

She grabbed a magazine at random; she was fine with reading any junk, really. She picked one solely by the fashionable black bar at the top. The thin magazine was enveloped in an amber aura and sprang upwards, hopping to Lyra... who was presented with the choices of throwing it away in disgust or staring at it with a hateful glare.

Octavia was smiling at her from the cover.

Lyra could never stand that pony. She couldn't stand that smooth, laid-back smile. She couldn't stand that well-combed mane. She couldn't stand that fancy, pink bow-tie that meshed so well with the grey coat of its wearer.

Worst of all, she absolutely couldn't stand that attention-hogging idiot who had basked in fame while her fellow musicians went barely recognized. Even Lyra - one of the more renown bunch - had often been mistaken for somepony completely different, a sensation much worse than not having been known whatsoever.

"I can't believe this is the first paper that has to land in my hooves," she sighed and hung her head low. She was still angry, but she had started giving up on her day - that helped to smother the negativity somewhat. Some days just weren't meant to go well, after all.

"Isn't that right? This new world is so confusing, even Master gets waylaid! How can me, a poor ghost from centuries past, avoid such heinous traps! Fake flames, of all things!"

Lyra looked up from the magazine and glared at the windigo. She had wisely decided not to say anything, however. Her capacity for sympathy had been approaching zero... from the negative side. She was still no Bon for certain, but she was also fully aware how she acted when she was in her grumpy mood. Better not say words she would regret. Especially to a creature that was - supposed to be - somehow supernatural.

Even so, Lyra retained full rights to her opinions.

Didn't you just, like, go off snacking while I was ran over by a cart and got surrounded by crazies?

After that reminder, Lyra felt a strong temptation to see if she could beat that windigo up somehow.

Much to their common luck, the door of the doctor's office swung open. An earth pony came out, her blonde mane accenting her pearly white coat. She held her head high and moved with small, self-conscious steps. That sight could have been best described as a pony with class, had Lyra not known that nurse already from her previous visits.

Her eyebrows twitching, the musician turned to the nurse with a smile so fake that even a blind pony could tell.

"Miss Treatment," Lyra mumbled and made a very, very small token bow. "I'm... kind of here for a check up..."

Miss Treatment turned to her newest patient real slow, her green eyes widening a little when she glazed over the bandages Lyra wore.

"Ooh! I know I told you to only come back when you were half-dead... but I didn't imagine you would actually do me the favour!" she giggled with thinly concealed excitement. "Come on in! I can't wait to check just what you broke, tee-hee!"

"That's... that's the doctor Master is supposed to visit?" Snowy gawked, her ears dropping to the side of her head. She looked pitifully scared, even for a ghost. Or especially for a ghost, rather.

"Hardly the one I'm supposed to visit," Lyra whispered a correction as she hobbled towards the inevitable. "She's just the one I happened to get."

She couldn't shake the notion how her running into Miss Treatment was fate, though. Kind of.

Of course she would be on shift today. What else did I expect from today, really?
> 12 - Going to the doctor
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"These are the times I realize how different Master is from old Master. The only comment old Master had on acupuncture was along the line of 'crazy nonsense from over the large pond'. He wasn't really open to the whole idea of willingly getting stabbed."

Teeth tightly clenched and her hoof holding a small of patch of cotton against her side, Lyra subdued the urge to respond. She flipped a page on the magazine and feigned complete disinterest. She had initially been going for appearing to have gone deaf, but the furrow on her forehead made her mood way too obvious for such trickery. She had to be content with actively - and obviously - ignoring the ghost.

"I kind of agreed with him too... it's really hard to see the appeal of jamming metal rods into one's body," Snowy chattered on. She sat next to Lyra, further annoying her master by eyeing the same magazine the pony had been reading. "So it's really weird to see trained doctors subscribing to the idea. I guess medical sciences have really improved during the time I spent in the amulet! Then again, the whole world has changed a lot, too. Old Master would surely have gone crazy if he had to spend as much as a single-"

"Would you please look at something else?" Lyra broke into a groan and rolled her eyes. There must have been a good and well-researched explanation why somepony else reading the same page as she did irked her... but for that moment, all she knew was that she really didn't want the icy ghost staring at that very magazine.

"Aww, Master... is that a must? It's not like my gaze would make the letters disappear!" Snowy pouted at the order. Her rebellion only amounted to vocal protests however, her head having turned in the opposite direction by the end of her sentence. "I'm only enjoying those pretty pictures - such amount of detail for so thin a codex! There is simply no way I could spoil Master's fun anyhow. I don't even know what those letters around the pictures mean."

"Of course you don't, you-" Lyra groaned renewed, but her tirade was cut short by the unexpected bit of detail. "-wait, what? You mean you can't read?"

"Nope!" Snowy declared as cheerfully as if that was a fact deserving celebration.

Lyra was completely bamboozled; she only managed to dish out a muffled eh, accompanied by a few rapid blinks. It was really hard for her to think of a reaction; never in her life had she seen the proverb 'ignorance is bliss' get demonstrated more vividly than that.

"You were locked up in a tower for years... only with that old master of yours," she finally found her voice. Her gaze was still pointed at the magazine, but she didn't actually see the colourful pictures; her thoughts had already fled the shallow piece of literature. "He never accepted guests either, right? So all he did was... read stuff, I guess?"

"Not quite. Old Master wasn't such a shallow pony; he would have accepted guests. It's more like the guests stopped coming - but that was on their own volition, so joke's on them!" Snowy interjected, her upbeat tone not showing any signs of wavering. She meant every word, that was for sure. "Old Master simply liked to grumble. First with whomever dared to approach him and claim familiarity; then, once he went through the history books, with whomever brought fresh news from the outside world; and finally with himself, once no-one came around that would speak to him. Always grumbling, all the time - I truly think that was his preferred way of communication. A misunderstood spirit, really."

"Riiiight, he was a real kind soul. Whatever you say," Lyra planted her face into her hoof. "Anyway, in all those years, you never once picked up how the alphabet works? And your old master never once figured 'eh, I have this ghost who's pretty much the only soul I can talk to now, let's teach her something'?"

"Old Master was pretty adamant in his relation to accursed ice-demons such as myself," Snowy pointed out, finally switching to a more neutral tone. A marked yet small improvement, one that still didn't help lessen the sense of odd detachment from her own story. "Truth be told, it would have been weird if he had offered to do something like that. Not to mention how me being able to read his books would have been a real headache for him! Imagine all the secrets a no-good ice demon could have discovered that way."

Lyra broke her gaze from the magazine she wasn't reading anyway and turned to the ghost instead. The way those lines were delivered, she could have easily believed Snowy found such flow of events natural. That fact didn't sit well with her. She could have stomached the whole explanation better if the windigo showed even a modicum of emotion. A little rage, or just be slightly upset. 

Anything!

No matter how she looked at the delivery, she had been witness to a disturbing level of conformity. Now, Lyra was fine with looking at the bright side of things; but the way Snowy esteemed the crook her 'Old Master' had been...

No way she could find that to her liking. No way she could accept something like that.

More importantly however, there was absolutely no way she would settle that matter in the waiting room.

"Anyway! I didn't come here to get some esoteric treatment like acupuncture," Lyra threw the magazine away. "I don't even like needles! Miss Treatment just had to draw a little blood, that's all there is to it. And as far as that procedure goes, I'm sure you understand I'd prefer a needle to anything larger..."

The magazine finished its clumsy flight and crashed back onto the table, crumpling some of the colourful pages in its landing. Snowy eyed the object a little longingly, the vivid images still captivating her; but her sense of loyalty had proven stronger than her curiosity. She turned back and gave her master a long, questioning stare. 

Lyra wished the windigo had fallen for the clumsy distraction; though if she were honest with herself, she couldn't have faulted the ghost for the surprised reaction either. She had made quite the abrupt change in topic. It wasn't even a change; it was more of a full retreat. She had really wanted to talk about something other than how some long-gone cranky noble had treated a harmless ghost, though. 

Locking eyes with Snowy for a moment, Lyra blew some hot air out of her nose and flinched away. Silence was good; it meant the previous topic got dropped. So she got her wish. She couldn't help wondering if she may have been a little rude in the process, however.

Ordinary ponies would have called her out on that stunt for sure, but she wasn't talking to any ordinary pony, Celestia be thanked. She trusted the ghost to not get uppity about minor breaches of etiquette.

"That... hardly makes for a better situation," Snowy scratched her head, ending the increasingly awkward silence. "Just why would the good doctor need Master's blood? Is she a vampire?"

Once again, Lyra was left speechless. She had no idea how vampirism struck the ghost as the most sensible explanation. There was something mildly comforting in that sensation of being utterly clueless, however. She may have been getting used to not understanding her windigo.

I actually wonder if that's a good thing.

After a lengthy deliberation - all while two ghostly eyes stared at her - Lyra decided that no, that wasn't really a good thing.

"No, no vampires here. She's not drinking my blood. Well... at least I certainly hope not!" she dropped backwards, plopping onto a puffy chair with a sigh. "She just needs a sample to analyse, that's all."

"Analyse? So that doctor draws conclusions based on blood?" Snowy turned to the closed door of the doctor's office. She showed all the signs of serious concentration, such as holding a translucent hoof to her chin. Then her lips turned into a wry smile and her head bobbed forward, the ghostly pony nodding to herself as she concluded her brainstorming session. "I knew it."

Those three words were among the few combinations that Lyra had hoped she wouldn't have to hear.

"You knew what?" she asked despite knowing better.

"Oh Master, I'm not daft. I know what drawing conclusions from blood means," Snowy narrowed her crimson eyes, the see-through blue fur on her back rising. "Our dear doctor is a witch."

Lyra was stunned by how easily Snowy came to conclusions that left her stunned. She may have expected something mind-numbing, but that theory had effortlessly blind-sided her still. It was a conclusion so obviously very wrong - yet one that seemed to make sense once she dared to think deeper of it. Well, made sense... in a weird, twisted, round-about way.

"I bet she's drawing all sorts of obscene diagrams in there," Snowy growled on, pouring more oil onto the proverbial fire. "I know their kind very well - old Master used to rage about this vermin whenever he had nothing else to rage about. Oh, do I know them well! Burn at the stake, they all sho-"

"Aaand this is where we stop, right before you get to be creepier than any ice ghost should allowed to be!" Lyra cackled nervously, her breath racing with her pulse. "I have ABSOLUTELY no idea what your stupid old master told you, but blood testing is a completely legit and scientific process! It's used all the time! It's completely normal!"

"Oh."

For whatever reason, the windigo's utterly disturbed reaction made Lyra almost as much worried as the previous ranting of the very same ghost.

"That's... unexpected. I mean, I was expecting the world to change a lot while I slept in the amulet... but to think witches progressed to being scientists!" Snowy made a soft laugh after she was done scratching her head. She turned back to her master and the laughter died down; even the daft ghost could understand the shocked expression the flesh-and-blood pony wore. "Sorry if my act is contrary to the customs Master is used to. Adapting to this brave new world is quite challenging! Fake fires atop of buildings, nobles who are really almost like commoners, witches who are actually scholars... sorry, I mean, scientists... it's truly like I have gone mad."

"Ditto on that," Lyra sighed wearily, relaxing her neck and letting her head drop onto the chair's cushion. She wound up staring at the ceiling of the waiting hall, and she immediately made an insightful realization: that place could have used a lick of fresh paint. She was fairly certain she shouldn't have seen cracks right above her head, after all. Still, at that very moment, those cracks were the lesser of her worries. "You know, I feel like I've gone mad myself as well."

"Awww," Snowy purred and covered her face, her ghostly eyelids quivering embarrassedly. "Master's saying things to comfort me! That's hardly appropriate... but it does feel nice. I have no idea what I should say, though..."

Try something less awkward, Lyra frowned as she shut her eyes. Dear Celestia, I sure hope this day won't get any weirder.

After a train-ride full of Bon making weird questions about a ghost she had been forced to believe in, the general weird antics of said ghost, wading through a crowd that insisted on hailing her as all sorts of celebrities she didn't happen to be, getting riddled with a nurse that took multiple blood samples to see if the stitches in her right shoulder were all right... after all those things, Lyra was fairly certain her wish was simple enough to grant.

Too bad the ponies' living god-princess rejected her humble request in the form of a window spontaneously exploding, spewing broken glass all around the small waiting hall.





"WHA- WHA- WHAT-!" Lyra squealed. Her first reaction - besides screaming useless questions - was kicking wildly; an admirable idea had she been standing on all fours, but a less astute one when she was resting on a chair. The force of her own movement made her fall over backwards. The sole help she got from her chair was a pained wooden creak, one which accompanied her as she landed head-first and then came to a rest belly-up.

That landing kind of hurt. It also dictated her reactions afterwards: she clenched her hooves on her aching head, the dancing green dots in her vision prompting her to squint mightily. Most of her higher thoughts took their chances to disappear, the few remaining strands focused on making sense of the chaos surrounding her.

"Huh," she heard the voice of her windigo. The tone seemed to be distant and confused, as if the ghostly creature was faced with something quite unexpected yet not too distressing. "Before I speak my mind on this matter, I must ask... Master, is entering through windows a new and accepted form of etiquette nowadays?"

"Nope. Breaking windows is bad," Lyra hissed without devoting too much thought to the matter. Her head had been hurting after the bounce against the floor, thinning her already not-too-abundant supply of patience. Still, since she was a nice pony, she answered the honest question factually and without any sarcasm. This once.

"Pffft. Shows what you know! Do you have any idea how hard it is to nail such a small frame at the speeds I'm going with?"

Slowly swivelling her head to the left until a blue pegasus entered her vision, Lyra was confident in her first impression.

Oh for the love of- not another weirdo!

Closing her eyes and holding a curse down with a gulp, she was fairly certain that she and the White Sun Princess were not on friendly terms that day.

I bet this is a joke, somehow. I bet she's looking at me right now. She's looking at me and she's laughing her fat sun-marked plot off.

Even during her blasphemous internal rage, she couldn't help but wonder if she had seen that stranger before. That pegasus had an oddly distinctive feature she seemed to recall from somewhere. Colourful as they were, not many ponies could boast true technicolour manes.

"I'm so going to have to let you know that I just scored an ace there," the pegasus pointed a hoof towards the broken window. "Ten out of ten. At the very least."

For all that Lyra knew, that may have been a boast; but with the pegasus also lying limp on the floor, it was really hard to take any her 'boasts' seriously.

"Er... good job?" Lyra bit her lip and rubbed her eyes. Tiny shards of glass rolled off from her as she did so, bits that had been forming a window just a few seconds before. "You... did you come for medical assistance?"

That was Lyra's favourite kind of question - the one which she knew the answer to even before she had bothered to ask.

Even if you hadn't come to see a doc, you sure need to now!

"Kinda," the pegasus moaned, her hoof dropping back next to her rather unceremoniously. "I've been here a few days ago, but I was told to come back later, so I kinda' thought I'd just like, drop by..."

"You've come to the right place!" Snowy exploded into a burst of cheerfulness and excitement. "There is a witch here who will cure you with scientifically accurate blood rituals!"

Bonking herself on the head a few times, Lyra pondered how much longer her day could get.





"Rainbow... Dash," Lyra mulled over the name as she yanked the toppled chair back upright. The move was accompanied by a short-lived shower of window fragments, the shiny bits of glass jumping and dancing on the floor before they became inert once again. "Yeah, I think I've heard of you."

"D'awww. No need to be shy!" Dash smirked triumphantly and kicked a few pieces of debris towards a larger pile. "It's only the two of us, so you're free to admit how inspired you are by the awesome I am!"

"I for one am absolutely inspired by how you can crash through windows without suffering as much as a scratch!" Snowy waved excitedly. Not being the target audience rarely disheartened her - or even registered with her, much to her master's chagrin.

"I would much rather enjoy an 'awesome' that comes without massive property damage-" Lyra frowned, following up her blabbering with a face-hoof and the realization of her recurring issue having just struck again.

Dammit! STILL talking before I could think!

"Pfff. You're still hung up on a measly piece of broken glass?" Dash shrugged with an expression that left no doubts about her pity. "Well, not all of us can dream big I guess."

"Correct! I don't even dream, for example!" Snowy waved again. Her enthusiasm briefly ebbed in the moments following however, evident by one of her eyebrows creeping upwards. "Though I don't even really sleep, so that's kind of a given, isn't it..."

"This is kind of hard to ignore right now," Lyra stomped onto the floor. Her hoof made a sharp crack, the horseshoe smashing a thin shard of glass into powder. It served as a great way to make her point evident - both to Dash and to her own gleefully blabbering windigo, whom she was trying not to pay any attention to.

"Meh. That's what this one's for!" Dash yanked something from among her feathers, throwing it at the other pony with a snap of her head.

Lyra caught the small object with ease. It was a harder piece of paper, much like carton; only it was shinier and even more rigid. Its surface was adorned by a long black bar and some vivid-coloured logos, a singular name standing out:


FREQUENT CRASHER CARD


"There are some obstructions you can get around. For everything else, there's CrashCard," Dash recited the slogan with an overly smug face.

The card still in the grasp of her unicorn magic, Lyra keenly remembered how pants-on-the-head stupid that ad had been. Only now she felt her own self being way more stupid for some reason.

"Covers property damage and medical," Dash yanked the shiny grey paper back, tugging it back into her wing. "I'd get dental too, but that's apparently reserved for top clients only. If I only knew how a mailmare got diamond class! I'm like, putting real effort into this and-"

"Master should apply to one," Snowy spoke up, her interjection successfully making Lyra lose track of the other conversation. "It would be a fantastic deal! Master had almost bled to death, got frozen to death, bled to death again and then almost got strangled to death in the span of a few days, after all. That streak would surely be hard to top."

"Yes, yes, yes, that's all very nice and important and stuff," Lyra shook her head in an attempt to rid herself both from the ad-come-true card's spell and the near-death-recount of her ghost. "Anyway, I'm Lyra Heartstrings, frequent performer in the Royal Opera! ...among other places. Ahem! Nice to meet you, Dash."

"Ha! The Opera!" Dash grinned and seized the other pony up. "I knew I've seen you somewhere before."

Lyra felt her little heart grow two sizes as her pride ballooned. She still had no idea where she knew that Dash figure from, but she was plenty sure the pegasus was somehow important. For an important pony to know her-!

"You're the one who mixes music for the parties at night, aren't you?" Dash winked and poked Lyra in the side. "You're one of the best DJs out there, kiddo'. I mean, it's like, not really a big deal compared to us real big deals... but it's a pretty great going otherwise!"

"Ahahaha... well yeah. It's not really a big deal," Lyra nodded, bearing a smile even as she felt her internal world collapse and plunge into a bottomless pit. "It's really not. I mean, it's not like I put my whole heart into my music. Nothing like that at all, ahaha!"

"Well, don't you worry! There's like, always some who appreciate you background folks!" Dash giggled loudly and rubbed a hoof on Lyra's head. 

In a strange way, that did make Lyra feel better. She really hadn't been expecting it to be the case, but even mistaken and misguided sympathy resonated with her. This was also the highest praise she had gotten that day, too.

What a lousy day.

"So what got you here?" Dash turned back away, returning to her self-appointed task of gathering the glass into a single pile. "I thought you musical types were like, quite unlikely to get injured. I mean, it's not the most dangerous job out there, right?"

Fully expecting another unexpected remark that would surely throw her thoughts off the rails, Lyra sneaked a glance at her windigo - but Snowy was staring at the magazines in silence, paying little to no attention to the two ponies around her. That tranquil failed to make Lyra relieved, however.

She felt cheated instead.

Is my profession being boring the ONLY thing you have no retarded rebuttal to?!

"Aha... well, it's a funny story," Lyra giggled nervously, her thoughts shifting to a problem she hadn't thought of before.

She had no idea just how much she could reveal from her ordeal.

On one hoof, the whole story wanted out of her. She had to warn everypony for one; and she wanted to gloat about her awesome adventure, for two. Especially to the pegasus who has been acting all smug with her. 

On the other hoof, spreading bad rumours about a noble who had made attempts on her life seemed like a bad thing for her life expectancy. Especially with a pegasus who was likely to latch onto the awesome-factor and spread the story like crazy.

In the question of being awesome and being alive, Lyra was firmly in the favour of the latter.

"I... I had come for a yearly health inspection," she explained with all the fake honesty she could muster. "You know, job requirement."

Lyra, you're an idiot, she regretted her choice of words right away. She had made a real bad lie - she really should have picked something that went better with her bandages.

"Ah, really? Woah, wicked. I thought only we had those, ha!" Dash cackled and kicked another piece of glass towards the pile. She had put a little too much effort into the shot however, making the shiny piece of debris ricochet off the pile and sending at least a dozen others scrambling in all directions. Dash didn't seem to take offence though, the bad luck only eliciting a tired sigh from her. "Seriously, you'd think that like, passing exams would be enough. But nooo, to advance in the academy, you have to get all these lame examinations done too. Because of reasons."

...so as I was saying, you're a genius! Lyra patted herself on the head - mentally, of course.

"So a check-up for you too," she took the idea and ran with it. "Hah! Funny coincidence, isn't it? I mean, I'd have thought you hot-shot important pegasi would get these checks done at home... you know, at Cloudsdale."

Just as if she had stepped onto a shard with the soft part of her hoof, Dash recoiled and shuddered for a moment. She was back to business as usual the next second, but Lyra was certain she saw something really odd just there.

"Na- nah. There's a perfectly good and rational explanation," Dash giggled and walked forward, the shards of glass crackling under her steps. "This place has... uh... it has like, less ponies here. Shorter queues, see? Waiting in queues is like, lame."

Lyra accepted that explanation with a faint nod. She wasn't all that convinced, but she couldn't really argue with the logic either. She hated queues herself. She didn't know of anypony who didn't hate queues, in fact. 

Barring Snowy, of course. The ghost would most likely have a field day in a long queue. She would be waltzing around, pestering her master with all sorts of ridiculous questions that only had answers that were easy to misinterpret.

Grumbling under her nose, Lyra crouched down and eyed a glittering object that had become embedded in the carpet. She felt divided about her odd suspicion regarding the pegasus; fishy answers were fishy, no doubts there. However, she had no real reason or right to poke a random pony's actions too much either.

Well, whatever. She can visit whichever doctor she wishes, in the end. None of my business.

She grabbed the tiny shard with a burst of her magic and placed it onto the table, next to the magazines. Snowy paid the shiny a brief glance then yanked her head around, snapping to the door that swung wide open just that moment. The white nurse came trotting through, stopping in the doorway to eye her two patients with a jubilant expression.

"Oh! If it isn't Rainbow Dash!" Miss Treatment chirped, the overflowing happiness obvious in her voice. "Sorry if I had kept you waiting long! You should really knock next time. I didn't hear you arriving!"

Wait, what? She knocked! She obviously knocked! She knocked RIGHT THROUGH THE WINDOW! Lyra snapped her hoof to the side of her head. The poor limb had no magical properties to keep lingering headaches at bay, but it was always worth a try.

"Ah... yeah. Um, sorry? I thought I'd clean up a little," Dash stammered an apology, her guilt-ridden gaze pointed at the pile of broken glass. "Leaving a mess after yourself is like, you know, not cool."

"As if a little untidiness mattered when my favourite patient visits me!" Miss Treatment pranced over to the blue pegasus, beaming an uncomfortably warm smile. "So tell me - what have you broken this time?"

Lyra boldly decided that she wanted none of that discussion and let those two be. She slithered under the cover of the table real sneaky-like, wondering all the way why she had sudden flashbacks of a certain noble in a faraway castle in the northern hills.

"Only your window," Dash motioned at the empty hole in the wall. A few shards of glass were all that clung to the frame at that point. "I just came to grab something."

"How disappointing," Miss Treatment sighed and took a step away from the favoured patient. "You didn't happen to break anything during your dynamic entry, right? No concussion after a rapid deceleration from an excessively high speed? No bruises after body-checking those sturdy window panes, which are obviously capable of snapping your bones? No cuts after going past those razor-sharp edges of broken glass? Didn't happen to hit your head into the furniture lying about?"

You're not even a nurse at this point! You're not even asking if she's all right! You're just trying to live out your fantasies! Lyra shuddered in the cover of the small table, her ears neatly tucked against her neck in her vain attempt to minimize her target profile.

"She seems like a really thorough doctor," Snowy moved forward, emphasizing her words with small nods along the way. "I never saw anypony who went as far as specifically asking for potential injuries during treatment!"

Something's wrong with you! Both of you! No, wait, all three of you! Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows, never budging an inch from her designated hiding spot. She didn't say anything aloud either. She entered a kind of zen; she blended into the room, became part of the furniture.

She wanted none of the crazies to notice her.

Why am I the only sane pony here?

"Nope," Dash shrugged nonchalantly. She didn't even miss a beat; she wasn't bothered by the nurse's questions whatsoever. "Had windows bothered me, I would have stopped crashing through them all the time. I mean, it's not like I do that on purpose... not always, anyway!"

Miss Treatment took the answer as a personal insult. A fairly uninteresting one, at that.

"How boring," she sighed and dropped her head low. "Ah, there's nothing to do with you! So boring! This is why I hate healthy p-"

The nurse interrupted herself mid-sentence, whistling a popular song with ear-splitting falseness. Her eyes wandered upwards, onto the ceiling; she couldn't have been any more stereotypically guilty.

You were about to say you hate healthy ponies! You were totally about to say you hate healthy ponies! Lyra gawked silently. Why are you even a nurse? Why do you even work here?!

Still, her faith in ponydom was restored a little, as those words had proven enough to put Dash into motion as well.

"Hey! That was like, absolutely not nice!" the pegasus objected loudly, rearing her head up and prodding the nurse with a hoof. "I'm an awesome pony! Don't you dare call me boring!"

A small thud punctuated the sentence, courtesy of Lyra's forehead kissing the side of the table.

"Ah- sorry, sorry! Me and my hasty mouth, haha! You are usually quite interesting, after all! All those fancy bruises and broken bones and snapped wings, mm... you give my work here meaning," Miss Treatment doodled with a sweet, sugary tone. She looked ecstatic, her head bobbing from one side to the other; she was ready to break into a dance any moment. "You see, I love watching injured patients up clo- I mean, treating them, of course. Treating. I love treating injured ponies. Pity you're not one of those right now..."

"Aww. It's touching to see somepony so dedicated to the betterment of the ailing," Snowy cooed as she clenched her hooves on her chest. "Such dedication to a cause can only truly be love!"

Stop it! You're getting attached to the worst kind of cause! That's the kind of love which kills! Blindly! Lyra stuck her tongue out of her mouth. She wasn't sure what irked her more; that she had voluntarily put herself into the hooves of that madpony or that her ghostly servant had voluntary subscribed to the whole mad play so easily.

She would leave the nurse alone as soon as she headed home, after all. Snowy, on the other hoof, would follow her all the way home... not to mention watching over her as she slept.

No matter how she looked at it, it would have been really nice if the nurse had stopped putting weird thoughts into the ghost's head.

"Apology accepted," Dash snorted and yanked her head back to a more natural pose, swiftly ignoring the bulk of what just had been said. "I just came for the results of my test."

"Test... test..." Miss Treatment echoed to herself. She sat down amidst her thinking; with her vacant gaze and her head plopping to the side, it was ridiculously visible how little of an idea she had. "Test... this is just a test..."

"Ah geez. Use a notebook if you can't remember all the things you do!" Dash smacked herself on the face. "It was part of my flight certification. You know, of the airworthiness exam."

"Ah... the one some potential Wonderbolts have to take?" Miss Treatment gave a hesitant nod. While her statement had been correct, she was still looking for the proper answer; as such, she was talking more to herself than to her patient. "The one you had to take because you... flunked on the exam because you were too nervous? The one your superiors forced on you because you were so jittery they believed you had seizures? The one you're trying to postpone because you're now afraid how the same thing would repeat? Especially with the bad memory haunting you, yes?"

Stunned silence followed. Only the noises from the street filtered in through the broken window.

"I don't see the need for a notebook," Snowy broke the silence first, compounding Lyra's woes as usual. "That really sounded like a fairly vivid recollection to me."

I'd rather take the notebook! That was way too vivid! Absolutely way too vivid! Lyra gasped for air as she watched Dash shrink a size or two. What's with all the unnecessary, deeply personal details? Isn't she really just making wounds herself now?

"Yeah... that," Dash mumbled. Her eyes were fixed at a spot which allowed her to avoid the gaze of both Lyra and the nurse; she would obviously rather have been anywhere else than that waiting room.

"Haaa... well, I have no idea!" Miss Treatment scratched her head with a goofy grimace. "Could you be more specific...?"

"LAST TUESDAY!" Dash gave proof of her lung capacity, yelling loud enough to make the nurse's mane sway wildly. "I WAS HERE LAST TUESDAY FOR A FRICKIN' BLOOD TEST! DO YOU NEED LIKE THE HOUR AND MINUTE TOO?"

"Oh, that one!" Miss Treatment slapped herself lightly and then reached to pat Dash - who recoiled from the motion, hissing like an angered cat. "You know, you really should have begun with that. Let me fetch it for you! A see-cond!"

The nurse popped back to her hooves and turned around, disappearing into her office while doodling a tingly-tangy tune.

The threat gone, Lyra rose from the cover of the table. She wasn't sure if that was the right choice to make; even the lack of psychopathic medical crews failed to help the awkward atmosphere. Dash stayed in one place as if her hooves had sprouted roots. It was hard to tell what kind of thoughts had been going through her head; her face was stiff, only the heavy breathing hinting directly at her unease.

Lyra wondered if she would want to comfort that pegasus. They barely knew each other, after all. At the same time, she had a great deal of empathy toward the would-be-Wonderbolt; nopony deserved to get treated by Miss Treatment. Especially like that.

The fact she was next in line may have contributed to the rush of sympathy as well.

A knot formed in her throat as the decision formed in her head. She was never that good at mingling with strangers.

Keep it together, girl! You can do this. 

A deep breath, keeping the air down, exhaling, another deep breath...

Moving with hooves made of granite, Lyra circled around the table and approached the blue pegasus.

Do unto others like how you'd want others to do unto you, right?

"Hey, I'm... uh..." she muttered meekly, careful that she looked the opposite way of the pegasus. That happened to be where Snowy was though; and the bamboozled stare of the ghost really didn't help Lyra's cause. So she just shut her eyes finally, speaking without giving the outside world a chance to confuse or interrupt her. "I know this is weird but I... uh, I'm sorry for-"

The outside world took Lyra up on the challenge and interrupted anyway.

"BAAFK!"

Miss Treatment exploded back onto the scene, kicking the door open with a motion that put the Royal Guard's break-and-enter routines to shame. She proceeded to waltz to the table, moving across a doubly dumbstruck ghost; there she spat out the papers she held in her mouth, the thin pieces of white material flapping around before she nailed them down with a firm hoof.

It was certainly an impressive way to enter, though the effect was largely lost on the audience. Dash wasn't touched; she stood firm, only moving her eyes to keep track of the nurse that had so wronged her. 

Lyra was at the other end of the spectrum; she was back to hiding in an instant, using the nearest cover available to her. That was Dash at first; then, after having realized the error in her judgement, she rushed behind the open door instead.

"I have terrible news," Miss Treatment giggled as she ran her eyes down the papers. "Your blood sample was terribly boring. So boring I could barely make myself look through all of it. In fact, I may have dozed off a little somewhere."

Coming from you, that sounds like a good thing! Lyra popped her head out from behind the door, her amber eyes narrowed to a slit. Wait a sec. How did you turn malpractice in something commendable?

"Great," Dash rolled her eyes and took a loud step towards the table. "Then I'll just take those and-"

"But then I got some inspiration and looked at this fancy detail here!" Miss Treatment pointed at the paper and carried on, undaunted in the face of the angered pegasus and demonstrating a remarkable lack of concern for her personal safety. Among the lack of other concerns she really should have had, that is. "See this number here?"

"Nup!" Dash stopped and raised her eyebrows high. "I might if you had just, you know, moved your hoof out of the way though!"

"It's your blood sugar level," Miss Treatment poked the paper, pinning it to the table and also crumpling it in the process. "Your blood sugar is out of whack!"

"That's it? Blood sugar? Meh... that's like, total lame," Rainbow Dash sighed with absolute dejection. "If that's all what you found, then I'm like, super fine."

"Ha! That's what you would think!" Miss Treatment licked the side of her lips and raised her hoof, the limb ending up pointing at Dash. "Sugar is basically hydrogen, oxygen and coal! You know what else is using a lot of those?"

"No need to try and scare me," Dash shook her head. "It won't work anyway. I've talked to a lot of doctors, you know! I've heard them threaten me in like, all kinds of ways. A little sugar in my blood got nothing on the full-body cast from last year!"

In the cover of the door, Lyra made a hasty nod. She had to give this round to Dash. Full-body casts sounded really scary indeed; way worse than having some of her sugar hop from her tea to intravenous form.

"Well, okay. If you insist on being hard to get," Miss Treatment sat down and folded her legs in front of her. "If you continue the way you are, your blood sugar level may rise. Then, when it has reached critical threshold, it will react with the adrenaline when you move too fast... and then explode!"

EXPLODE? Lyra's jaw dropped. While she held no medical degree and that was the first time she had heard such a diagnosis, she definitely had a few misgivings about its veracity.

Judging by the odd stare and the rapid blinking, Dash was sharing the sentiment.

Miss Treatment was the only one wholly satisfied. She raised her nose and waited in that triumphant pose of hers, enjoying herself immensely.

"Ex...plode?" Dash stuttered after some delay, scratching the back of her head with a hoof, her rainbow mane to shaking around. "That's, like, unusual... but you totally got my attention. So what would happen after that?"

"Ah, well, there's not much medical research into that I'm afraid," Miss Treatment frowned and closed one eye, using the other to stare at the ceiling. "I suppose your body would undergo a rapid, unscheduled disassembly... shortly followed by your soul travelling to the nether and getting judged for your mortal deeds. Though only if that's the kind of thing you believe in, I guess. You could also become an evil poltergeist that replaces valid shopping coupons with outdated ones, though... since that's the kind of thing I believe in."

Oi! You're breaking both our mortal world and our afterlife as well now! Lyra grimaced. You're totally just ruining poltergeists for everypony!

"Let's stick to the pony-powered fireworks, m'kay? It really sounds like a one-off thing," Dash snickered at the prospect.

"Would be a pretty awesome sight though," Miss Treatment breathed deeply, then unlocked her legs to make a rapidly expanding gesture. "Poof! The biggest show a pony can make in their lifetime!"

Technically true! Lyra cringed at such choice of words. That's the worst kind of true!

"The biggest show, huh..." Dash cocked her head to the side, the gears in her head turning. "Sounds cool. Actually, that sounds like something right up my alley."

"I told you I found something fancy," Miss Treatment winked at the pegasus and slid the test results to her. "Just keep eating a lot of sugar and fly recklessly. It should work out just fine!"

Oiii! Forget about being a nurse, you're not even proper pony anymore! Lyra widened her eyes, the cold dread washing over her.  You're not even trying at this point! Your evil side has totally taken over you! It's obvious! It's so obvious I can almost hear the latin chanting in the background!

"You know, making huge fireworks as a grand closure to my show would be like, all kinds of cool," Dash hummed. She was trying to convince herself most likely; but the nurse standing next to her also paid close attention to her words, nodding enthusiastically all along the way. "I bet nopony has ever done that before! Demonstrating with something like that... hmm, that'd surely put a lot of oomph into my performance!"

It sounds a little too much of oomph, actually! Lyra pressed her right hoof against the side of her head. She didn't really like the way that conversation was going, but she had no idea if she should interrupt it. Poorly thought-out plans were not illegal in Equestria. They were more of a norm, actually.

"That's the spirit! I'm sure your audience will be blown away by your finale!" Miss Treatment threw a sly wink at Dash, simultaneously patting the pegasus on the back. "Show them what you're made of, tiger!"

"Yeah!" Dash snorted loudly. She flared her wings so vigorously that she made a smaller gust in the room; the freak air current flipping the magazines all over the table, even throwing some off onto the floor. "I'll be getting the best review of my life ever!"

Still cowering behind the open door, Lyra couldn't help but feel weirdly amused by how true that was - one way or the other.

Snowy was the only one to look openly disapproving. The windigo narrowed her crimson eyes and wrinkled her eyebrows, scratching the back of her head intently... then she turned to Miss Treatment and finally spoke up.

"I thought tigers were exotic animals that lived in far-away lands. Their pictures in old Master's books looked nothing like that pegasus either! So while I was approving of your earlier enthusiasm, I really need to question your knowledge about the world now, miss nurse."

For lack of better choices, Lyra drew her head back and snapped it forward. Her nose touched the wooden door and green dots began dancing in her eyes; the physical pain providing a much-welcome relief from the mental torture her brain was going through.

She hadn't made a thud too loud, but it was still easy to pick up. The room had become quite quiet with the departure of Dash; the only noises being those that filtered in through the broken window. The impact had also made the door swivel back towards its closed position, revealing the moderately pained musician.

"Oh my," Miss Treatment blinked vacantly as she turned around. "Seems I've got another visitor!"

"Uhh..." Lyra mumbled, her hooves clenched on her throbbing nose. "I've been here for a while already."

"So, got any broken bones?" Miss Treatment took a step forward. She bore an excited expression; she was also licking her lips, her head cocked to the side. "Any organs falling out maybe?"

It only took Lyra a split second to conclude: no matter her misgivings, she had very much preferred the nurse attending to Dash than her own self.

"Nope... I mean, I very much hope not," she shook her head hastily. She didn't feel bad, for one; and she really wouldn't have liked the attention of that medical pony, for two. "I came to get that checked out, though. You even took a blood sample from me... for whatever reason. Even though I only needed these stitches double-checked..."

"It was not whatever reason. It was because I enjoy stabbing you lot," Miss Treatment sighed, casually managing to give Lyra the goose bumps. The nurse took a few additional steps toward the shivering musician, her bored gaze resting on the white bandages.  "Anyway, why should I take a look at your stitches? Did they loosen or something? Are you in pain? Are you bleeding? Could your leg be falling off?"

"N-NO! Nono! Of- of course not, hahaha!" Lyra waved her right hoof in front of her, her heart beating faster than during her first performance in the Opera. And she had been really, really anxious back then. "I just wanted a professional to look at the... you know, details that only professionals would know of. Like if it was sewn correctly, or... or, well, I don't know what. I'm not a doctor."

"Meh. You look sickeningly healthy to me," Miss Treatment shrugged and turned away, to the door leading to her office. That didn't prevent her from further driving Lyra into despair, though. "Shoo. Get away from my sight."

"What about my blood test?" Lyra mumbled, putting her hoof in front of her mouth only a few seconds too late. She wasn't convinced if she wanted to hear that nurse make an analysis about her health. The more responsible part of her brain was sure she did NOT want anything like that, in fact.

Too bad the more responsible part of her brain wasn't responsible for keeping her mouth shut.

The comment drew Miss Treatment's barely noticeable ire. The nurse paused for a moment, turning her green eyes to Lyra. She scanned the musician with thinly veiled contempt; then she moved to the table with heavy steps, her head hanging from one side to the other.

The nurse dragged herself to the small table and began shuffling through the white papers. She moved slowly, each movement of her hoof underlining how little desire she had to carry out that duty. A few of her wider movements also ploughed through Snowy, the windigo eyeing Miss Treatment suspiciously - and real closely.

Pressing her right hoof against her forehead, Lyra tried not to think about the whole image. She figured she had already sacrificed a smaller legion of brain cells; no need to further erode the functional parts of her head.

"Here we go," Miss Treatment exclaimed, dragging a singular sheet of paper out from the pile. "Let's see... boring... boring. Oh sweet Celestia, that number's so under the limit it's making me sick. Are you trying to kill me? Seriously, coming here like this..."

Grimacing in the cover of her hoof, Lyra did start feeling bad for having had come to that office. Especially when she could have also just rested in her bed, all nice and comfortable. She only would have had to convince Bon to that end. Couldn't have been worse than what she had already endured.

"Oh. Well, this is more interesting."

Her teeth clattering against each other, Lyra perked her ears and glanced up. Even the slightly excited tone of the nurse kicked her survival instincts into high gear.

"What...?" was all she managed to ask. Even that sole word came out rather meekly.

"Nothing really interesting," the nurse leaned closer to the paper, her words and actions clearly contradicting each other. "I was just looking at your blood sugar. Did you know sugar is composed of hydrogen, coal and oxygen?"

"Yes, I think I... I already heard. Somewhere," Lyra moved her hoof down from her face, covering her anxiety with a weak little giggle. "What of it?"

"Oh, nothing, really! I was just looking at the numbers here. Looks a little interesting, you know!" Miss Treatment joined in the giggling. "Your blood is full of sugar. A little more, and it could reach a critical concentration... then add in any little stimuli and then... and then something may explode!"

Lyra simply blinked and stared incredulously, her head hanging to the side. She had no words. Only thoughts.

Of thoughts she had plenty, though.

Oi! How careless can you actually be? You aren't even threatening me properly anymore!

"Hmm," Snowy hummed, the ghost's voice taking on a pandering overtone. "I don't think this is right."

Lyra recovered right away, a small grin lurking in the corners of her mouth. Finally! Snowy showing some real-

"Isn't Master's diagnosis a little... overly broad?"

Her ears dropping back to the side of her neck, Lyra turned around and limped towards the exit. She was going home - and no ghost, pegasus or medical pony could possibly stop her.
> 13 - Going shopping
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, wasn't that a waste of time... I'm back, anyhow. Bleh."

The sound of a door shutting accompanied Lyra's disillusioned comment. She was home at last; and while nothing interesting had happened on her way back, she was still feeling quite rather... peculiar. She really had no idea how she could describe the emotion, not even to her own self. It was a curious mixture of annoyance, bewilderment and utter disbelief. She had already had the misfortune to get treated by Miss Treatment before, but the nurse had never left such a lasting impression on her yet.

I should check if I've got another cutie mark. One that volunteers me to strange and bizarre experiences, Lyra chuckled darkly as she double-checked whether she had closed the door behind her. Befitting the bad-luck-conga of her day, the door hadn't locked properly; she had to take a step backwards and then buck it with full force.

The brute force wasn't strictly necessary. It just felt really good. 

The little mishap allowed a sentient blue mist to sneak inside at the very last moment, flowing through the rapidly disappearing crack between the door and the frame. While Snowy wasn't an intruder, the late arrival drew Lyra's ire all the same. She only had to forget about that darn windigo for a second and it would disappear to wreak havoc right away.

Thank Celestia she can't really interact with anypony else.

That went double when Lyra realized just how proper an owner she would need to be otherwise.

"Try to keep up with the pace, you lazy ghost!" she barked to the useless servant. She did not wait for a response; she limped onward and moved across the hall, deeper into the house. After her recent experiences, she had a strong desire for somepony supportive to talk to. "BON! I'M HOOOME! YOU HEAR ME?"

The call went unanswered.

"Where are you, you doof..." Lyra sighed at the disappointing, yet somehow predictable result. "You only went to buy some groceries... that really shouldn't take this long."

"Maybe miss Bon got held up," Snowy proposed, popping up next to her master without much warning. "Or maybe she fell into a bear-trap! Old Master always booked the expenses for laying the mountainside full of them. Kept the bears and funny invading forces away, he said."

"He was a real charming fellow, wasn't he?" Lyra sighed without batting an eye, her whole being completely nonchalant about that bit of trivia. She wasn't even surprised any more. Even being the first to arrive back home proved to be more interesting to her. Though after her windigo's mention of bear-traps, she managed to - inadvertently - picture Bon stepping into one of those awful metal contraptions... 

The fur on her back sprang sky-wards and she broke into a shiver.

Thank Celestia I'm not the visual type. Uh, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...

"Oi, Snowy! No need to think of the worst right away!" she berated the ghost once she got her composure back properly. 

"I am already adhering to that line of thought, Master!" Snowy made a quick salute. "I'm deliberately trying to mention the lesser dangers instead of something more lethal - such as spontaneous explosions. Something which ponies from this region seem to be awfully susceptible to..."

Still anchored in one place, Lyra twisted her head and gave the blue ghost a tired glare.

Where did your superstitions go all of a sudden? Why do you pick up on something like THAT in an instant? I had to drag you onto the train earlier, how are exploding ponies so much less ridiculous?!

Shutting her eyes and exhaling loudly, Lyra chalked up another line to her list of grievances.

"Please do me a favour and forget about the stupid things. You're a bother already," she groaned and hobbled towards the very end of the hall.

"Understood. Anything to make Master happy!" Snowy leapt next to her. Having been  berated didn't seem to weigh heavily on the ghost; she appeared to exhibit a low-key cheerfulness as she took her place at her master's side. "That raises a question, though. Exactly which constitute as stupid from today's experiences?"

"All of them," Lyra snorted after a brief moment of thinking.





"Boooonnnnnnn!"

Head tilted slightly, Snowy observed the strange afternoon rituals of her master. The unicorn had settled into some sort of routine; she checked the fridge every few minutes, found it to be empty, went away, emitted guttural growling sounds without her mouth moving... then repeated the same procedure from the very beginning. A few complaints were sprinkled in randomly, usually centring on her absent friend and the foodstock she was supposed to return with.

"Musician needs food! Badly!" Lyra whined. She moved erratically, leaning to her side and rubbing along the kitchen wall as she pushed forward. The paint on the wall dragged her coat quite uncomfortably, but that still proved as one of the better ways to distract herself. And distractions she needed. The sensation of hunger just didn't want to leave her alone, and there was no suppressing it either; she couldn't bear to drink any more water. "Seriously! I'm starving here! BON, JUST WHERE THE HECK ARE YOU? Even I could have ran around the whole town by now... twice!"

"Maybe miss Bon got cornered by a pack of wolves," Snowy mused from the top of the oven. "They seemed like a vicious bunch. Old Master had a bunch of pelts that-"

The ghost shut up as soon as she noticed her master's glare focusing on her. 

On account of her forced diet, Lyra's already irate mood took a pretty steep dive. The last thing she needed was the windigo becoming a strain on her nerves as well.

"But I am being positive!" Snowy cried out, replying to a chiding both she and her master knew would follow. "Compared to bear traps, a bunch of wild animals are certainly a favourable possibility!"

"You and I have wildly different understandings of 'positive'," Lyra groaned and dropped her head, her nose dangling a mere hoof from the floor. "Seriously, I- argh."

A rumbling sound filled the kitchen and cut the pony off, going as unexpectedly as it had come. Both she and her ghostly servant knew where it came from, the two pairs of eyes glued onto the musician's stomach.

"It may be timely for Master to revisit her stance on stale bread," Snowy raised her eyebrows.

"It may be timely for Master to revisit her stance on waiting for somepony who seems to take forever to come back!" Lyra grunted angrily, snapping her eyes from one bothersome thing to the other - from the windigo to the wall clock. Both were utterly unreasonable and annoyed her with great rates of success. "In fact, let's just do that! The market's open until nightfall, which gives us at least half an hour. Let's just quickly grab something to bite!"

Perched atop the stove, Snowy stirred. She became fiddly all of a sudden, limbs, ears and head all twitching as if giant needles were prodding her in the backside.

The change didn't go unnoticed by Lyra, who promptly gulped deeply. She did not like that sight. An excited Snowy meant that she would be trailed by a ghost who was even more difficult to keep in check... and exponentially raised the chances of getting her into trouble.

As far as ghostly servants went, Lyra really wished she was given a more passive one.

"I've never been to a market before!" Snowy hopped onto her hooves. She began to spin in circles, which was most likely a futile attempt at reigning in her excitement. "I've always heard the reports old Master got on how the latest fair went - but they never held any of those inside his tower, so I kind of missed out on them. Oh, this is going to be sooo exciting!"

Squinting at the ghost in disbelief, Lyra felt even more aggravated than before. Contagious as ever, the enthusiasm was sticking onto her as well; and she wanted none of it. Not at first anyway. It was an odd wish, but she wanted to feel cranky - so she could remain angry at Bon for making her wait even as she was starving, at Snowy for being her usual annoying self, at the world for ruining yet another day of her vacation. So she could get some semblance of revenge on somepony. Eventually.

She couldn't manage any of that, however. She simply wasn't that kind of a pony. Upbeat thoughts had always swayed her way too easily.

It was also really hard to be genuinely angry at a windigo who had never seen a proper market before. That was such a simple part of life; to be missing it... it was quite inconceivable to Lyra.

Me and my big heart, she exhaled slowly, the hot air ruffling the bit of her mane which dangled in front of her face. Being nice is really one of the worse curses to have, isn't it?





"I must confess: it's not quite what I expected it to be," Snowy scratched her head, scanning her environment left-to-right once again. She and her master were making their way through rows of empty stalls, the unpaved ground throwing up dust at each physical hoofstep. There were very few ponies around them, and none of them were selling anything either. The few merchants still around were already packing up shop at that point; the rest of the bystanders were either helping them or milling around aimlessly.

The place didn't have much to classify as a market. Maybe the skeleton of one - though barely, if even that.

"It's pretty late now," Lyra mumbled as quietly as she could manage; she really didn't want to be seen as a pony who held conversations with herself. "Let's hurry and find the few who are still selling something edible."

"But of course. I wouldn't want Master to suffer because of having me around," Snowy nodded in agreement and ran her eyes across the empty stalls hurriedly.

That was such a rare moment of self-awareness that Lyra almost doubted her ears.

This is why I really hate ponies like you, she smirked, her smile both fuelled and aimed at the pity she felt towards her own self. You always find ways of annoying me... but still manage to make me feel awful whenever I'd really start to be angry at you.

Moving her eyes in the cover of her mane, she sneaked a glance at the clueless windigo. The blue ghost took the whole 'find food' business quite seriously, scouting the emptying marketplace with the same determination she had demonstrated a few days ago, during their infiltration of the Dancing Lights.

The Dancing Lights...

That memory pushed a related fact back into the forefront of Lyra's conscious. No matter how she had tried to avoid thinking about it, she still owed her life to that annoying ghost. She knew she couldn't have made it out of that snowy hell just on her own.

Aaaah, she thought bittersweetly as she hobbled along with the ghost. Why couldn't somepony nicer save me? Like some prince charming or something.

Life wasn't fair.

"Don't sweat it too much," she sighed aloud, acting on her rush of empathy. "There are also bakeries around... if worst comes to the worst, I can get my munchies from there as well."

"Oh! That does make sense," Snowy raised her eyebrows, the idea clearly eluding her until it had been pointed out. "So... why not go there right away, if Master is sure they are open?"

"Stitches," Lyra giggled wryly, the saddlebags rocking against her side as she made a rougher step. She may have gotten better at moving on three, but that form of locomotion was still nowhere as comfortable as the regular four-hoof drive. "You saw how little walk this was - the market's practically right next door. I'd rather not walk too much more today."

"Oh... oh," Snowy looked away, the hint of embarrassment running through her ghostly visage. "Then I shall make sure our endeavour is met with success!"

The windigo's words hadn't died down by when she was already away; she sailed through the air with a graceful leap and landed on the empty frame of a stall. Snowy perched herself up there and rotated around, looking like an oversized blue bird that surveyed its environment for prey.

Lyra was expecting the thin wooden board to crack under the creature, but it withstood the impact without as much as a creak. She kept waiting for the disaster that never happened; it took her a few dozen seconds to reconcile the image with her expectations.

Of course, she smiled and shook her head once she had accepted what she saw. Snowy's a ghost; she has no weight. She could even sit on a waving flag, I guess.

Her gaze fixed on her ghostly servant, Lyra's smile rapidly turned sour. She felt really, utterly conflicted about the whole scene.

Is it normal to be envious of an ice monster?

She felt sure that it couldn't have been right, but there was no helping the feeling. Snowy had a plethora of skills and abilities she couldn't ever approach, no matter how hard she would try. She was just an ordinary unicorn, after all; one who bore all the limitations of a flesh-and-blood pony, not even mentioning those born out of her comfortable lifestyle.

Which led her to an unsettling question.

Why does a creature like that even need me around? What's the point of this whole game?

There were no sane reasons for that Source to bind such a powerful demon to her. Being out of the loop for a few centuries made Snowy seem a little loopy, yes; but that was hardly a fatal flaw. She had lost her touch a little, sure; but Lyra was sure the windigo would get around to boasting some awesome power yet. At the same time, what could she say about herself? She was and always would be a musician. She could maybe achieve her dream and finally succeed at playing Paganini on a lyre. Then all the ponies who really cared about lyres would applaud her.

All ten of them.

That hardly made justice for the 'contract' she and Snowy had. Such an imbalanced deal could only be some sort of a prank. A joke.

Or Snowy's getting punished for something, Lyra giggled to herself. She couldn't find the joke uplifting; even the tones leaving her lips felt bittersweet. Oi! Better stop thinking about this, girl... before you demolish what little self-confidence you have. Positive thoughts, remember? Positive thoughts!

"There's something interesting north-wards," Snowy yelled from her vantage point. "There's somepony with a stall who isn't packing up just yet. She's actually serving a customer, right now. Or... something like that. I guess?"

"As good as any of my guesses," Lyra shrugged and watched the windigo land back onto the ground. "Lead the way!"

"But of course, Master," Snowy nodded curtly, ears perked and head turned in the right direction. "I would hate to disappoint! I live to serve, after all. Would be really disheartening if I couldn't do that much."

As clearly shown by her grimace, that wasn't entirely the answer Lyra had been expecting.

I still don't get her! I mean, it's nothing new but... what's with that corny, evil-minion-style line? It's not like I'm some malevolent overlord, right? I hadn't ordered her to do anything crazy so far, right? Just why wouldn't a simple 'all right' do, then?

She couldn't even imagine what the answer might be. So she shook the useless weirdness out of her head and put herself into speed, zigzagging between the empty stalls as she hobbled after the windigo.





"...and Ah' keep tellin' ya' that's ain't NOTHING! Yer' clients are still way more flexible than me' boss."

Like a stereotypical vulture from a bad movie, Lyra sat down and eyed her prey from a distance. Snowy was proven correct: the stall was indeed open, and also had many apples to offer. It would have been perfect... were the owner not serving another customer that moment.

Lyra rubbed her sore shoulder and glared at the apple-stall with a weary glance. She simply wished to just buy some food and head back home already; but her terrible luck endured and complications delayed her progress. The owner of the stall - an orange farmmare - was engaged in a conversation with a customer. That was nothing special all right; but squinting at the customer, Lyra thought she recognized the white unicorn. She hadn't known the pony personally, but had seen her at the parties she had provided the music to. As far as Lyra knew, that unicorn was some sort of a diva-slash-couturier, and of the higher calibre to boot. She had been seen together with Princess Celestia herself, after all.

And I thought that only our weirdo librarian was privy to royalty. Didn't know Ponyville had so many celebrities wandering about, Lyra mused to herself as she settled in for a longer wait. She placed her hooves onto an empty stall, followed by putting her head to a rest on those hooves.

It's not like she was interested in overhearing what a farm-mare and a celebrity-designer had to discuss; she simply didn't want to be rude and interrupt them. No smart pony wanted to be in bad graces with those so close to the Princess.

"Ha! You try putting 'my clients' and 'flexible' on the same page - the paper would catch fire!" the white unicorn waved a hoof in the air. "Do you know what would happen if I missed a deadline? It would be the-"

"-worst thing ever, yea'. No need to bring yer' magical couch out just yet, sugarpie. Think Ah' managed to get yer' pattern down by now," the farm-mare adjusted her hat with a bored expression, pushing the rim upwards. "But anyway, Ah' don't think yer' clients would be more reasonable than nature itself. Ah' mean, have ya' ever tried to talk with them folks in the Major's office? They're so stingy 'bout the rain as if it weren't for free... don't seem to care how they be eatin' mah apples as well either."

"I can cede that officials such as Major Mare are a rather difficult assortment to negotiate with. However, there is a reason to their madness, dear; it is, in fact, a necessity. There are many contradictory needs even in a small place such as our Ponyville. Had you always had your way, a lot of other ponies would be disgruntled instead. As much as this place needs fabulous apples, we require other amenities as well. I couldn't imagine living without getting my regular beauty treatment for example," the white unicorn explained with her head turned to the side, her hoof running down her curly mane. "And trust me, rain is real bad for my mane - even for the short walk between the spa and my boutique. Thusly, the Major simply can't give everypony what they want. It's always a compromise."

Still far away on the sidelines, Lyra furrowed her eyebrows. She was wrecking her mind over at that choice of style. A curly indigo mane; that was a really rare sight. The more she had been looking at that pony, the surer she felt she had seen her before. She must have heard the name a few times, even.

C'me on brain, work! I can't just forget the names of important ponies if I want to work my way up. What was it...

"My clients, on the other hoof, are inflexible by choice. They are invariably of the higher class. They would have the means to pursue other venues of fulfilment; they simply rather not go through the trouble of doing so. They have a rigid adherence to their own dream-worlds," the white unicorn continued even as she brought a strand of her indigo mane to her face, examining it closely. "Now, don't get me wrong AJ; I do sympathize with you. However, as far as I am concerned, my clients are much more aggravating. Simply because they are aggravating for no fathomable reason. That is truly the worst, stressing me by their own choice!"

Were she not resting her head on her hooves, Lyra would have found herself nodding to that. She had enough first hoof experiences with some nobles' unreasonable requests, to put it lightly.

"Aww. My heart's breakin' into two right 'ere on this very spot, Rares!" AJ giggled. She also struggled visibly, hiding a full-blown laughter at bay. "So do tell me one thing... did them fancy evil clients of yers' ever make ya' do somethin' real risky?"

Rares? Lyra perked her ears for a moment, then let them drop back as embarrassment overtook her short-lived ecstasy. Ah, right. So that's Rarity. Gee, no wonder I'm still stuck with lousy second-rate jobs. I should really pay more attention to these details...

"Master knows those two?" Snowy caught the sudden shifts in Lyra's expression.

"One of them," Lyra whispered into her hooves. "It's kind of a one-way relationship, though. Like looking up at a mountain-top... you see it's up there, but it won't ever care about you, ha."

"Old Master would surely label Master as defeatist for that!" Snowy sighed with a tone dripping of nostalgia. "Though now that I think about it, old Master also had lieges to serve... so he had his own mountain tops to look at, in a way."

"There's always a larger fish," Lyra remarked sourly. She had always wanted to be in the cosy position where she didn't have to work on working her way up any longer; but years of attending to fancy parties made her wonder if such a spot truly existed.

"Risky? Dear AJ, I risk my life every single day!" Rarity stopped caring about her mane long enough to make a belittling wave. "Or have you forgotten the time I got captured by diamond dogs? Those are the lengths I have to go in order to satisfy my customers!"

"Oh, Ah' haven't forgotten. Ah' still remember findin' ya' bossin' those no-gooders around!" AJ grimaced. Her eyebrows formed a perfectly flat line, parallel with the rim of her hat. "But anyway, that was a risk ya' took yerself. With the bits yer' making, ya' could really afford buyin' yer' ingredients instead of goin' out there yerself. Since ya' were givin me' a lecture 'bout it just now, Ah' think Ah' can say it openly. That's yer' choice, Rares. Yer' nobles' ain't askin' ya' to go out there and put yer' neck at risk."

"I don't really see what you're getting at," Rarity giggled softly, her eyelashes fluttering as they signalled her confusion.

"Ya' could have gone about that in other ways. Ya've got that kinda' freedom!" AJ smacked herself in the face. She started looking quite frustrated at the steadfast rebuttal she was facing. "Ah' don't! All me options are 'bout these two: makin' more apples or not makin' more apples. Only the latter ain't even an option any more!"

"Yes, because the mortgage on the Sweet Apple Acres is absolutely THE thing motivating you," Rarity hid her giggle with her hoof. It was a nice gesture - one rendered absolutely moot by her decidedly sarcastic grin. "You're certainly not sticking to your business because you're an apple-nut."

"Guilty as charged," AJ pulled her nose high, apparently finding great pride in the accusation. "Few ponies would be as mad as to take 'em loans onto their homes... just so they could buy more of 'em apple trees, hehe."

Lyra didn't really get much of the conversation; most of those words went way above her head. She only understood that her shopping would need to wait until the discussion was over.

Would you two just wrap it up already?

It was only a waste of her time. She didn't even get to feel entertained! Quite the opposite, in fact; she yawned deeply and rolled her head to the side. Even the move wasn't as comfortable as she had hoped it would be. She started to itch, the fur covering her face and legs rubbing against each other.

Oh for the! Six hours until midnight, six hours until midnight...

"Ha! So some things do remain constant through ages," Snowy giggled and mimicked her master, placing her head onto the empty stall as well.

That comment wasn't interesting enough to elicit any spoken words from Lyra; it was just barely hitting the level where she raised an eyebrow and gave a questioning stare.

"Financials! Financials were the root of all evil in the world - and they seem to poison society even today," Snowy went into her - rarely demonstrated - academic mode. "Well, that was what old Master kept saying all the time. According to the thick tomes and the accountants of his, none of his property really belonged to him... or his heirs. That frustrated him to no end. Actually, he hated banks even more than my kind. That's what he always claimed anyway. I did think that was nice of him, trying to cheer me up like that."

I'm pretty sure he was just ranking you as the second worst thing in his life, Lyra snickered, but opted not to speak her mind. She certainly wasn't feeling like correcting one of the better misconceptions of her ghostly servant. Happy delusions were happy things first and foremost - even if also delusions at the same time.

"I wonder if there was anything your old master liked," she sighed, going with whatever else came first to her mind. "How did you arrive to that topic, though? From apples, no less..."

"Oh, apples I have no stake in. But I couldn't help but notice how those two over there were talking about mortgage and the likes," Snowy motioned at the two squabbling ponies. "An oddly familiar topic to my ears. It might be the very first thing I recognize as proper in Master's strange new world, actually!"

"Eh, same question. What does mortgage have to do with financials?" Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She had no idea what a 'mortgage' was; but by the sounds of it, her bet was on it being cheese. Cheeses always had those funny names. Like gorgonzola. Or raclette. Mortgage would certainly  have fit that line well.

"I'm glad Master asked! They are pretty closely related, actually. I managed to pick up a lot on that from old Master's tirades-" Snowy purred contently, her gaze vacant as she stared into her past memories instead of the outside world; but she never got to really telling the tale of hers.

Loud yells drew both the windigo's and her master's attention; the argument between the fashion designer and the apple farmer started picking up steam... and decibels.

"Apple trees don't even talk! And even if they could, they would be real easy to take care of! They only need sunlight and water!" Rarity yanked her head to the side. It wasn't simply a case of looking away, that was for certain; she managed to put a lot of indignation into such a simple move.

"Truly spoken by somepony who's ain't got the faintest about farming!" AJ snorted loudly and turned the other way as well. "Lemme' be the first one to let ya' know, sugarpie: them apple trees are way more delicate than those hoity-toity ponies. Ya' ain't got no idea how much effort and bits I need every year just to prepare for season, have ya' now?"

"Less than what a single set of my dresses cost - unless you bury diamonds among those roots every year, dear!" Rarity cracked an eye open to give the other pony a piercing glare. "Last year I had to borrow from one of my kinder clients just so I could adequately prepare for an order of capes!"

"Bwahaha! Is that s'posed to be something? Ah' could swear only one of us got mortgage on their everything!" AJ burst into a hollering laughter. "C'me on, out with it! Admit it! This be my win - yer' in a checkmate!"

"Not so fast, dear! I can cede I'm a little better off in terms of liquid assets, but you simply can't compare the stress that comes with your work and mine!" Rarity grinned evilly. She had a cunning plan for her comeback; it was obvious to anypony within a mile's distance. A simple look at her face could tell that much. "There's a reason why books always cite the farmlands as getaway spots - and never the boutiques of fashion designers."

"Only because them writers are fancy city-ponies to the bone and ain't got no idea what an actual farm's like," AJ retorted. She only shrugged, but her voice made it clear just how hurt she was. "Bein' on a farm is hard job, Rares... and ain't a fancy job like yours, either. Pullin' a loaded cart just ain't got the same feeling like pulling a needle."

"Yes, because the apples on your cart always keep screaming into your ears about your deadlines!" Rarity spun around and grabbed the farm-mare with the same fluid motion. "I swear it's driving me crazy, you hear me? They change their orders and the deadlines on complete whims and act as if I had agreed to go along with them! I mean, I would agree anyway because I don't have a choice other than agreeing or going out of business and living as a homeless nopony until the end of my days... but that doesn't mean I don't WANT to agree before I get told that I had agreed! But no, I only just get told how I need to restart from scratch two days before schedule just because the newest magazine favoured a different trend!"

"Well, missing one batch'd hardly drive ya' to poverty, rite'?" AJ scratched her head, pushing her hat backwards in the process.

"Au contraire! In my clientele, opinions spread like raging wildfires - one single bad word of me could get me completely undone!" Rarity stammered and struck a pained pose. "Every day is all or nothing to me, every deadline either a step upwards or a plummet to nothingness!"

Sitting silently at the empty stall, Lyra couldn't shake the awkward feeling of how she was watching two ponies argue over who had it worse. Yet neither of the two had thirty-something stitches in their side or had a ghost trailing them. During certain moments she even had an urge to get up and claim victory for herself.

Then she remembered how only she could possibly see Snowy, and she gave the whole thing a rest. She was in no mood for a protracted argument anyway. She only wanted some of those apples and then she was good as gone home, sleeping in her bed with her tummy full.

To think that cosy, well-fed sleep was just a stupid conversation away from her.

Maybe I should just interrupt them, she rubbed her legs with her chin. Her stomach began rumbling, too.

"Uh... Master?"

"What," Lyra groaned, her voice made hollow and low-toned by her generic exhaustion. "Snowy, I'm not in the mood for-"

Her sole luck was that she turned to the ghost as she spoke. That way she spotted the stocky red stallion that had arrived next to them.

"It would appear we have company," Snowy raised her head and pointed at the newcomer. "Master, I think it would be prudent to remind the good sir that the queue begins behind us. We have certainly waited long enough to earn our spot as the immediate next customer."

"Yea... yeah. Queue," Lyra chirped with a nervous giggle - once she was done gulping, that is.

She easily recognized that stallion from before. The cart behind him as well. 

Argh! Why is the cheerfully-run-you-over bloke also as silent as a ninja?

"You... you don't feel like running me over again, right?" 

The red stallion kept silent, but signalled his displeasure at the suggestion with a generous frown.

For some reason, Lyra felt quite unnerved by such a stoic presence. Even if he didn't seem too intent on grinding her into the ground again.

"R- right," she giggled on and sprang to her hooves. "Shopping time...!"

Oh Celestia, this day is absolutely nuts.





"So ya' wanted to buy somethin'? And ya' waited on us to finish? Aww sugarpie, that's some silly thing to do!" Applejack patted Lyra on the head. "Ah' did see ya' over there, but then ya' took a seat and started watchin'. So Ah' reckoned ya' might just be waiting fer' somepony else. Ya' looked real comfortable and all that... didn't seem to have any itch to drag yerself' over here for a few of me fine apples."

Lyra puffed in silence. She felt as if she were a filly getting lectured by her mom; and just like when it happened with her real mom, the whole scene felt belittling and condescending to her.

That her own stupid idea put her into the situation didn't help with the awkwardness whatsoever.

"Half a dozen apples, coming up! You might want to brace a little, dear," Rarity warned from behind, the unicorn dragging a bunch of apples in the air with crafty use of her magic.

Lyra blushed and immediately forgot about her sour thoughts. That she would be served by a pony of such high standing; she almost expected having to pay extra for the privilege. If only she could make some lasting impression somehow! Surely scoring a few points with a pony privy to Celestia's inner circle would go long ways in boosting her social standing.

It was hard to impress somepony when she was found 'eavesdropping' on a semi-private discussion, though. Standing like a dumb rock and smiling like an imbecile seemed like the most she could get out of the deal at that point.

"Brace? What for?" Applejack tugged on her hat. "Ah' know yer' city folks ain't used to physical work much... but what the hay, Rare- sorry, Rarity? We're only talkin' 'bout two dozen of them apples. Even a breezie could drag that much."

"Only if that breezie hailed from the Apple family!" Rarity winked slyly. The subtle praise was not lost on AJ, who pulled on the brim of her hat until it completely hid her eyes. 

The heck is a breezie, Lyra blinked in confusion. She refused to let up on her stupid smile, though - just as she had not yet given up on achieving her good impression either.

"I'm not talking about her fortitude anyhow. I was trying to subtly draw your attention to this," Rarity carried on and moved to Lyra's right side, the cluster of floating apples gently bumping against the musician's white bandages.

Real subtle indeed, Lyra smiled unabated. Despite the odds, she managed to reign herself in; only her eyebrows twitched a little. She really needed to appear calm. That was her chance to make a good impression!

"Nah! I'm fine, ahaha!" she cackled. Her voice was loud, further enhanced by a calculated little amount of boastfulness. "It's just a flesh wound!"

"Hmm. Now that ya' mention it, she was limpin' earlier," Applejack hummed to herself. "Well shoot. Now Ah' feel all kindsa' stupid! How did Ah' ever miss those bandages?"

"At least now I know you're not ignoring my dressed on purpose," a sigh escaped Rarity's lips. "Oh dear, it's so hard to be a fashion designer around these parts..."

Having been ignored on the matter as completely as possible, Lyra kept her outwardly smile but went into a complete blackout inside. She stuck to her only line and repeated it like a broken gramophone.

"Tis' but a scratch..."

"Always told ya' to put more apples in 'em. Gets them folks' heads workin' way better than diamonds," Applejack mused to somepony. More than likely herself, as Rarity would have never listened to such a suggestion. "What to do with this 'ere pony, I wonder..." 

"We could just escort her home," Rarity shrugged, her indigo curls bouncing up and down at the motion. "You were readying to leave before I held you up, right? Might as well pack up and drop her off at her place."

"But I'm fine, really!" Lyra cried out. Her brain was lagging a little behind her mouth though, so she changed her stance a split-second later. "...is what I would say, but I do feel a little funny. I mean... ow?"

She had no shame about that. Walking on three was a tiresome effort; so hitching a free ride home did sound like a really nice deal. Not to mention it meant going along with the idea of the famous couturier, the pony who could have conversations with Celestia herself.

Surely that amounted to something. Even a passing mention would have been good enough, as far as Lyra was concerned.

"Oh dear! See, she's limping even now!" Rarity threw the apples away and grabbed the suddenly collapsing Lyra with her magic. "I'm beyond such mundane emotions, but I must say that I was right."

"Well 'scuse me for being used to being a sturdy pony," Applejack huffed. Her irritation didn't last long; she went into a thoughtful hum after a few breaths. "Can't say Ah' fancy the idea of walkin' her home, though. Unless Cellie' decides to do good old me a favour and stops the sun mid-set, it's gonna' be dark by the time Ah' can pack everythin' up. Can't say Ah'd fancy that much."

Cellie? Lyra sneaked a glance at the farm-mare. That sounded like an awfully informal way to treat the almighty princess of Equestria. Then again, that was coming from a pony who causally referred to Rarity as 'sugarpie'.

I swear everypony I meet today is crazy, Lyra concluded and felt a tinge of self-pity swell in her. Or maybe it's just me having gone nuts. Nah... I'm sure I'm the only sane pony today. That's gotta' be it.

"Can't say I fault that logic of yours. Packing in the dark is absolutely below class," Rarity made a curb nod and held a hoof to her muzzle. She moved her gaze around the deserted market - and found her solution, evidenced by the smug grin widening on her face. "Say, would you by chance need the cart right away to start packing?"

"The cart?" Applejack raised an eyebrow. She turned to the cart, but she seemed to not get the reference at first. The idea did click with her - but only after several seconds had passed. "OOOH! Ah' geddit.  Sure, Ah' can do without that cart for a while. Need to finish boxin' them leftover apples first anyway."

Alternating her gaze between the two ponies, Lyra had a bad feeling about that plan.

"Ey! Big Mac! Could you drop this 'ere lady back to her home?"

Lyra jumped as if she had been pinched. She was still dangling mid-air however, courtesy of Rarity's magic; so she remained firmly in her place, her legs only kicking the empty air.

No-no! No-no-no! she gulped once she realized she was not getting out of her predicament easily. I know that bloke and his cart all too well! I've had a real close look at them already!

"Tha- thanks for the offer! But I think I'm- ah, I'm walking home!" she stuttered hastily. She figured her words would be to little avail, but she couldn't just idly stand by and get loaded onto that thing. "I'm fine, haha! He-heey, aren't you two listening to me? I just said I'm fine..."

"Ponies in bandages should lay in bed and stay quiet," Applejack gave Lyra all the answers she needed to know. AJ didn't waste any more time on her injured customer either; she turned to the red stallion that showed up out of nowhere again. "Big Mac, Ah'm gonna' need ya' to take her home. Make it real quick, will ya'? Ah'd rather be home by nightfall, so clock's a-tickin'. Ah' kinda' promised 'Bloom that Ah'd help her with some homework and all that."

"Eyup," the red stallion nodded.

Lyra eyed him fearfully all the same. The sole word did little to break that colt's creepily stoic character. Not that a chatty pony would've been much better. Not with the whole 'having tried to iron Lyra out with the help of an apple-loaded cart' factored in as well.

She knew a lost battle when she saw one. She gave up and went limp, dropping onto the cart like a cheap doll. She didn't move even when Snowy hopped right next to her; the windigo poking her with a muzzle, checking if she was still alive.

Lyra felt done for. She couldn't help but find the whole disaster to be perfectly in line with her earlier experiences, though. Which was, in a lot of ways, the most telling and depressing part of her day.

I knew I should have just stayed home and in bed.
> 14 - Going to bed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Okay, that's my house there. Second next on the right. Yep, this one. You can stop now..."

Big Mac didn't respond. He may have nodded, but there was no way somepony travelling on his cart could have seen him do so. So it was only natural for Lyra to assume he hadn't heard somehow; thusly she tried again, only louder.

"Hey, stop! Argh... can't you hear me or something? I said, STOP! STOOO-"

The cart came to an instantaneous stop, mimicking the motion as if it had hit an imaginary stone wall. Lyra, still in the middle of yelling, was mildly surprised by the development. All the apples around her bounced a little; but by the virtue of being light and carrying little momentum, the small fruits stayed safely in their spot. Lyra, on the other hoof, was somewhat heavier than the average apple. She lunged forward, the second half of a word still in the process of leaving her mouth.

"-OOops?"

It was at that point Lyra lifted her legs and tried to brace, her reactions a second too late. She gave the box in front of her a bear-hug. Her nose dug into the contents; the wooden container was full of red and green apples. Her muzzle knocked a few of the fruits out of their place, the apples bouncing around her hooves. Her mane, also carried forward by momentum, covered her face and got into her eyes.

A perfect way to reach home all right, she groaned internally. The best possible conclusion to this day, really.

It could have only gotten better if the door fell out when she tried to get into her house. Or if her bed exploded under her for some inexplicable reason. All those would have really gone with the theme of her day; still, she wished none of them would actually come to pass.

Nup, this string of bad luck ends here. Happy thoughts! Happy thoughts. Stick it to fate, girl! It's only upwards from here.

The sweet taste of apple spread in her mouth, but she still found it in her to curl her lips into a wry smile. That hopelessly optimistic attitude was the most important, after all. It was what kept her going even when she had been freezing to death on a slope - or when she was sneaking her way into a castle, freezing, hungry and bleeding.

She firmly believed she would get through anything as long as she had that mentality, no matter how bad things got.

She rose back onto her hooves. An apple had become wedged into her mouth during the earlier break; she only noticed that after she had pulled her head out of the box. Frustrated by her rotten luck, she sneered and spat the fruit out. She may have had the willpower to grind on, but that didn't mean she would need to enjoy when an ill-tempered Fortuna kicked her around.

"I wonder if he is going to charge Master for that," Snowy hummed. The ghostly servant was sitting on a crate, eyeing the apple with the bite-marks. "I am not sure about the policy for chewed-on goods."

Lyra shot an angry glare at the windigo, her expression only softening when she realized the veracity of the unneeded remark. Then she shrugged and grabbed the apple with her magic, sliding it into her saddlebag.

Why do you only make sense when I'm worse off for it, she shook her head in silence as she walked past Snowy. A few more steps and she was at the end of the cart; there she gathered her strength and hopped off, careful that she caught the ground with her healthy leg first.

"Thanks for the ride," she grumbled to the red stallion who had ferried her home. She stalled for a second, mulling over the matter of the bitten apple; but she finally ceded the point to Snowy and fished the purse out of her saddlebag. A little fiddling with her magic and her purse was open; a shiny coin flew across the air and landed in the cart. Lyra made sure the move was as flashy as it could get; the coin landed on the cart's side and bounced onto its floor with a loud clang, making further clings until it finally ran out of momentum and became still.

There was no way the stallion could miss that. He raised one of his eyebrows and gave Lyra a puzzled stare.

"Don't you eye me, mister. That was for the apple I took off when you- er, I mean... I took during the trip. Consider it an extra purchase," Lyra stammered a little embarrassedly and stuffed her purse back into her saddlebag. "Take care on the way back home. And uh... try not to run over anypony, all right?"

The stallion didn't even grumble. He rolled his green eyes in complete silence and trotted off, the cart in tow. He moved really fast; Lyra watched the cart behind him rock around, each bump in the road made apparent. It was only at that point that she realized something.

"Shoot!" she slapped herself on the head. "I forgot to ask for his name."

"I concur - that would have been a thoughtful thing to do. It was real nice of him to carry Master home, wasn't it?" Snowy moved into her master's vision, the windigo's gaze also locked onto the stallion. They couldn't see him for too long - he took a corner and disappeared from their sight. "Completely free of charge, as well."

"That's the least I'd expect from a gentlecolt," Lyra yanked her head away with a huff. "Remember this bloke also kind of ran over me. That was some real scary stuff, right there."

"But of course. As Master decrees," Snowy nodded and followed Lyra towards the door of their house.





"I never knew writing could be such a free-style activity!" Snowy blinked rapidly, her muzzle hiding in the cover of her hooves. "Old Master was always so meticulous even about the most minute reports... it took him forever to write a page."

"Would you please stop comparing me to him?" Lyra gritted her teeth and glanced up. That was followed by a wide-eyed grimace and her own hooves bashing on her head. "AAAGH! COME DOWN FROM THERE!"

The windigo was perched on top of a picture that was hanging from the wall. For a pony such as Lyra - a pony who tended to forget how Snowy was just a ghost - , that sight was beyond surreal.

"Oh? I thought this was a nice spot... the whole room can be observed from here," Snowy demonstrated her reasoning by rapidly scanning the room with but a few tiny twists of her head. "Or is this picture a taboo? Does it carry importance to Master?"

"Yeah. Makes me regret the hundred bits I threw at that hack of an artist," Lyra squinted at the oddly coloured painting. It was supposed to be a tranquil landscape, but the actual outcome could only depict some alternate universe. She would have thrown the thing out long ago - were it not so expensive. The price tag made her reluctant to admit the mistake. "Of course it doesn't, duh. But you sitting there is just... ugh, it throws my thoughts off. Look, I can't even recall what I was going to write here! Argh."

"Oh!" Snowy hopped off right away, her ghostly form landing on the carpet below. "I am deeply sorry, Master. I shall-"

"-make up for everything and prove you're an asset and blah blah," Lyra interrupted the tirade she already knew inside-out. She didn't need to hear it one more time. She turned back to her diary instead; the open book was lying on her bed, a small puddle of ink marking the spot where she had stopped writing. She had forgotten about the quill, the sharpened piece of feather still pushed against the paper.

Par for the course, Lyra sighed at the sight and removed the quill right away. She ran her eyes to the left and looked at the window; pink-reddish clouds beckoned her in turn, the sun putting on its final show before disappearing beneath the horizon. Such a beautiful sight - yet, to Lyra, it only conveyed one sorrowful fact.

Still not tomorrow yet.

She needed something to offset the aggravation with. So she had an apple levitate out of her saddlebag, move right to her face... and stay there while she took a bite out of it. The fruit's texture was a little green and the taste was acidic; a little unripe, just as she had guessed. She didn't find the imperfect taste to her dislike, however; she kind of liked the change from the overly sweet default, in fact.

Ain't this great! Me and my peculiar tastes, she dug her head into the blanket on her bed, her muzzle drawing a thin line of apple-juice over the fabric. I wonder where I'm going to get unripe apples from.

"It's no laughing matter! I am trying to be useful!"

Turning her head so the wrinkles in the blanket didn't obscure her vision so much, Lyra peeked at the windigo. There was something strange about the creature, but she couldn't really place a hoof on it. She had a feeling that she was about to find that one out, however. Shortly.

What now? Did I offend her somehow?

"Snowy... look, I understand-" Lyra murmured, her voice distorted as her mouth was still dug into the smooth fabric covering her bed.

"With all due respect, I doubt Master truly understands!" Snowy barked, and the tone got Lyra's instant attention.

Springing up from her bed, Lyra turned to the windigo proper. The bored irritation from a moment ago was gone; she was quite focused. While they hadn't been together that long, she had never heard the windigo raise her voice. Not once. It stood to reason that the sudden angered voice carried significance. It had to mean something.

"This isn't just some... game! This is a serious affair!" Snowy cried out and walked towards Lyra, the pair of crimson eyes burning with whatever emotions lay bottled up in her. "I understand I'm not the best choice as far as servants go - I understand that well! All too well! That's why old Master shunned me from the get go. I had waited thirty years to prove that I... that I'm not a purposeless idiot who only clings to her Master and makes her Master's life miserable! I waited and waited... but my chance never showed itself. Old Master succumbed to age and I had to return to my amulet... so this once... this chance... I'm not giving up...! I am going to prove that I am worthy of being proud of!"

"Servants..." Lyra narrowed her eyes and gave the ghost a suspicious glare. The heartfelt plea was lost on her; not by indifference but because of a few words. She just couldn't help it. Those words struck her and she couldn't move past them. "That's the same thing that hooded pony said! The... the Source, right? You know that one, right? What can you tell me of her?"

"Hooded pony... the Source? No, nothing. I am sorry, Master," Snowy mumbled. Her head dropped; her whole being looked as if she was a translucent marionette-puppet - one which got its cords cut. "I do not recall anything to that effect."

"Tsch. Still, you recalled something... that's not too bad for a beginning. I remember you claiming you don't remember anything, period," Lyra licked her lips excitedly. She rushed to the windigo and tried to get a hold of its head; she wanted to look Snowy in the eyes, but her hooves passed right through the ghostly creature.

The windigo did get the hint however, and looked up anyway.

Whoa, Lyra flinched a little at the close-up sight. She looks pretty bad. Try as she might, she couldn't remember why Snowy would look so... worn. Weren't they fine when they had left the cart and entered the house?

"That was said in a situation where other, more pressing matters were present," Snowy looked away. Lyra wasn't sure how she could tell; the windigo lacked anything that could have passed for pupils. She just... knew, somehow. Intuitively. "Master's life was in peril. That always comes first; that's another thing I remember. Long, meticulous elaborations in matters that also confuse my own self... bringing Master into threat for the sake of such is absolutely out of the question."

"Ah. And here I was thinking that you're getting better," Lyra sighed and sat down. "Well... we're safe now, aren't we? Can you explain now, perhaps?"

Snowy glanced back at the pony and nodded. Then and there was the ideal situation for delicate matters. They were in Lyra's house, in Lyra's room; all alone to themselves as Bon still hadn't come home. Or had come and had left again already; the same end effect as far as they were concerned.

"As I said, my life before meeting old Master is missing from my memories," Snowy explained. Her tone was dry and her eyes returned to their lifeless, gemstone-like red hue; whatever had gotten her riled up, she managed to put the lid back onto it. "But there was something before that - I am sure of it. I cannot recall anything solid, but there are a few fragments that still linger on. I have no idea why they aren't gone themselves... but I feel lucky even for such morsels."

"Strange thing to feel lucky for," Lyra scratched her head. "I would be pissed if I forgot so much about myself."

"Only by those fragments do I know that I have lived since before old Master had found me," Snowy pondered. Her tone was bittersweet and she smiled; a smile tempered with tinge of sadness, yet an honest one all the same. "That is the only simple thing about my situation, though. I have no idea how I should feel beyond being thankful for the fact of my existence. Whether to be happy or sad about memories that had been lost - that surely must depend on the memories in question, yes? I can only surmise that one ought to be happy to lose sad memories, after all."

Snowy closed her eyes and chuckled to herself.

"It's complicated, I guess. Apart from one thing. I feel glad to have some proof that I have existed, regardless of what that proof might be. That fact won't change, no matter what had happened to me back there."

Lyra stared at the windigo, strange emotions swirling in her head. She opened her mouth but no words came out; she couldn't translate her thoughts into anything physical. She had the urge to say something, anything; it felt natural for her to want to comfort the creature. Only she couldn't. She could barely understand the issue, let alone comment meaningfully on it. Those thoughts, those worries - those feelings - belonged to a league way higher than anything she had partaken in. Her gravest problems were concerning for her career as a musician; never once had she had to stop and face something that wanted to erase the very trace of her whole existence.

So closed her mouth and continued to listen.

"But I digress. I do remember bits and pieces, but what remains is vague. Also little. I can recall that I was just one among the few chosen... but I can't tell who they were. Just that they were," Snowy carried on, her head tilted to the side as the gears inside her head spun up. "It is only a theory of mine, but I believe they were more powerful than I am. They would most likely know who they are and what they are capable of, for example. Not just a mostly empty shell like me. In truth I barely qualify as a servant. I can hardly serve when all I can do is offer outdated advices and snuff out flames."

"Well, you have saved my life once already. That may count," Lyra interrupted in a low tone and threw a wink at the ghostly creature. "You have also saved your old Master... even if he didn't really deserve it, the bastard."

"I bid Master to not judge old Master too harshly. He treated me roughly - but he treated everypony else roughly as well. In a way, he was more fair with me than I deserved," Snowy chuckled and rubbed her eyes. "Only the sedulous are worthy, after all. A servant who does nothing for the estate is ought to not receive from the estate either."

"You saved him," Lyra reiterated a point she felt the ghost was overlooking. "He literally owed his life to you. That should surely amount to something, yes?"

"That is... debatable, sadly. I remember little of that night - even of my own release, which has always puzzled me to no end," Snowy stopped rubbing her eyes, her hoof parked at the side of her head. She didn't look well; her crimson eyes fogged up like freshly opened windows in winter. "I hadn't done anything special, anyhow. I had only blocked the effects of cold on old Master; for cold is my old friend and still obeys my will. But even that meagre act had taken a heavy toll on me. It took desperate measures to keep old Master alive - and even now I wonder if he could have actually made it through without my assistance."

Snowy fell silent and her master - again - couldn't add anything of value. The two just stared at each other, both expecting the other to say something; but the mood only worsened as the awkward silence held up, raising the bar for the potential comebacks higher and higher.

Lyra wasn't sure what she could even say, for one. She was chewing on her lip and could hear her own heart beat; the most annoying sensation she could think of. How could somepony with so little cares in the world placate a creature that was so deep in self-doubt? Anything she could think of felt light and meaningless.

Ugh. I've never felt so superficial, she chided herself and gave the back of her head a rough rub. C'me on girl, think! What would a real heroine say?

"You're being negative," Lyra shook her head, citing one of the overworked phrases she hated so much. Still, that one had worked on her during her early days as a fresh musician; surely it could work just this once again. "As far as I care, you saved all your masters that you know of. Even if you hadn't done more, that should  still be enough."

She deliberately omitted the part about the former Flash Freeze's entourage never making it back. She wished she could say she cared about those poor souls - but she would have been lying if she said she did. She didn't know a thing about them. She couldn't even imagine them. Snowy, on the other hoof, was sitting right in front of her, teetering on the edge of a major breakdown. It wasn't really a contest which side she would favour.

"Being negative... that maybe I am. Or maybe I just have a healthy dose of suspicion regarding myself," Snowy wrinkled her eyebrows and raised her nose, her gaze meeting Lyra's. "How would Master feel if Master was stripped of her purpose? Not just to the point of inability - but to where Master couldn't even tell what it was? What good does an existence without purpose do, Master? Especially one so transient such as mine?"

"Lose my purpose... that'd be music, I guess. So no music?" Lyra hummed out loud and put a hoof to her muzzle. "Well... that'd be a bummer, obviously. I'd feel pretty bad. But I don't think I would break down too much. Bon would back me up, see? She might yell and throw things at me, but she's really kind where it counts. I don't know what I'd do without her, really. I doubt she would part ways with me just because I can't perform at the Opera any more."

"Friends... another concept I had never learnt in detail during my time with old Master," Snowy put a wry grin forth. "Sounds something nice, though. Even so, I doubt that would be a route accessible to me. The terms are clear: I am only perceivable to Master and others such as Master."

"Huh, true that. So it's like... if I hadn't had Bon around," Lyra went back to mumbling. It was hard for her to imagine the situation, but she tried her best nevertheless - only abandoning the attempt when it became too hard on her feelings. "GAARGH! Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! That's a stupid suggestion! I couldn't bear anything like that on my own! It's way too stupid to even imagine that I would willingly-"

She fell silent and blinked at Snowy. She wasn't sure if she understood properly, but she finally had an inkling of the situation.

And she sure as heck didn't like what she had found.

"As a servant, I have but one purpose: and that is to be useful to my Master," Snowy made a deep bow, her front legs sliding forward until her forehead rested on the carpet. "I had failed in that task for over thirty years, day after day. Please... please allow me to rectify that mistake, Master."

Flinching away from the odd gesture, Lyra was all sorts of shaken. She had heard things she wasn't prepared to and now was given a request she knew she couldn't accept. She wasn't some feudal liege or anypony with power. She was an ordinary musician who led a care-free life. There was no way anypony could serve her and find meaning in the task.

Even so...

Despite all those rationalizations, she understood she was in no position to refuse. She would take the game Snowy was playing and turn it on her; formally become a Master, but in actuality find what the windigo did and make a use of that.

Who knows? Maybe this stupid ghost does carry some awesome potential, she thought to herself as she reached her decision. Maybe I could help my life with this, somehow. Or even better, I could help everypony!

An eyebrow of hers raising, Lyra gave herself a smile and a curt nod.

Yeah, that would be really nice, helping everypony. Like a real hero or something.

"Very well," she decreed, using all the acting skills she had picked up during her years in providing music to plays. "I agree to your terms! From this moment forth, you shall be my servant and I shall be thy master! My will shall be yours and you shall follow me wherever I lead you - roaming this world together as long as I can draw a breath!"

Unlike the theatrical demons, Snowy didn't break out the evil cackle or the brimstone cloud. She simply glanced up at the pony and wondered if Lyra had gone mad.

"Pfft... hahaha! Shows why I'm doing the parts which don't involve talking!" Lyra burst into a laughter. She couldn't handle the sheer awkwardness in any other way. "Anyway, it's a deal. Not sure what you're expecting of me, though... I'm not exactly the pony who'd be good at helping you unlock your potential. With that being said - I'm sure that you'll do something spectacular in time, with me or without me. I would be really surprised if the fame of the windigos were misattributed, to be honest."

Snowy didn't break her gaze or change expression; she remained as solid as a statue. As a ghost, she didn't even need to breathe - making the stillness even more eerie.

"You're making this awkwaaaard," Lyra hissed under her nose.

"Ah- ah! Sorry, Master. I was just... well, I was..." Snowy glanced away and snapped a hoof to her neck. Her ears dropped horizontal and her movements were uncharacteristically quick, proving that even ghosts could be anxious.

"Forget about it. I won't hear another word," Lyra huffed and turned away, ending the conversation that had been dragging on for too long. "You'll do fine, and that's my final word. Now let me finish my diary before Bon drops home."

Safe from the windigo's stare, Lyra allowed her true emotions onto her face. She wasn't sure what to do with the creature, to be honest. She had never thought she would be worried for such an ice-demon instead of being worried of one. She was also pretty sure she had just made a promise she wouldn't be able to keep - at least not without a serious boost of luck. She would need to sit down with Bon tomorrow and have a good talk about it. Bon had always been much more practical than her - surely she would come up with an idea.

Speaking of whom...

Just where is she anyway? Wasn't she just doing some shopping?

Huddling back down on her bed and grabbing the quill with her magic, Lyra felt oddly cheated. Had she waited and relied on Bon for her food, she would have wound up starving real badly.

Bon proved unreliable, Lyra shook her head and switched the quill for an apple, just as long as it took her to get a bite. How extraordinary! This is so going into the diary.

"Master..."

Lyra turned to the windigo as soon as she heard the call. It struck her a moment later how she certainly looked nothing like a dignified master should have; a moment of self-reflection that had been almost half an hour overdue. Snowy could only see a bandaged unicorn with a thoroughly ruffled mane, mouth open wide with a green apple sticking out of it.

Lyra really regretted not taking at least the apple out of her mouth before turning that way.

Think before you do things, think before you do things, think before you do things...

"Thank you," Snowy closed her eyes and made another deep bow. "That is all I had wished to say. I shall leave Master to her diary, then."

The apple dropped onto her bed as Lyra bit a big chunk out of it, she couldn't help but find that sort of declaration weird. She had no willingness nor time to go back and ponder on the windigo, however. She wanted to put the last weeks' events into written form - before Bon came home, preferably. So she shrugged, grabbed the quill, and set out to resuming her story.

"Dear diary! Today we're setting out for our vacation. I guess I would sound real excited were I not writing this after the whole thing..."





Lyra threw her hooves out in front of her. She wasn't sure what that would achieve, but she had to do something - anything. The white surrounded her, got into her eyes, swallowed her completely; she could only tell that she was accelerating by some innate sense she hadn't noted before. And she wanted none of that speed. She had already been quite worried about what would happen if she bumped into something-

Almost as if fate had read her mind, her hooves struck something. She never got to learn what the obstacle was, but it didn't really matter in the grander scale of things. A crack rang in her ears and she was thrown into the air. She didn't understand how she could be catapulted so high just from a mere collision, but the stomach-churning sensation didn't let her wonder too long. The icy wind bit into her face, penetrating the thin fur and produced a burning sensation on her skin. She tried to stop it, cover herself with her legs; but the limbs wouldn't follow her will whatsoever, only dangling loosely by her side, hobbling as the wind tore away at them.

Did I just break them...?

Bad news traded places with worse news right afterwards. She could tell she hit the apex of her trajectory; she began to slow down, her anxiety over her speed overshadowed by the nauseating feeling of weightlessness.

An endless white field beckoned her from below. She was falling, she was sure of that; but it was really impossible to tell when she would land. The blindingly white landscape provided no clues to her and she never had the pegasi's innate sense of speed or height either. Not that either could have served her well; she had no means to fly or lessen her impact.

But... but when did I get so high?

She was desperately trying to find a grip on the situation, even as her nose dug into the snow. Something gave away with a resounding crack and Lyra was sure she just heard her own neck snapping. She was mistaken however - but soon found that she wished she had been right.

She broke through the snow, the impact barely slowing her down. There was a hole lurking beneath the white cover; an enormous cavern. The whole setup was ridiculously fragile; it had only stayed put as long as nopony disturbed it. But the whole disguise began to fail once some fool had touched it, the snow folding and collapsing in on itself. Lyra could see the white mass dropping all around her, on top of her, falling like an avalanche, closing in on her... entombing her.

Help!

...was what she wanted to say, but she couldn't actually form words - on account of her mouth being full of snow. The sensation terrified her; but then her wicked journey came to an abrupt end. Her back hit something solid, the harsh landing squeezing every ounce of air out of her. She spat out a mixture of hot air, cold water and icy snow - then wheezed and gasped, weakly and pitifully.

"I told you not to touch the darned thing!"

Mustering every bit of power she had left in her broken body, Lyra opened her eyes and squinted upwards. A pony in a bright orange jacket was standing over her. He carried a number of long poles and was shaking his head at her, openly disapproving of the stupid tourist who had failed to heed his orders.

"It's really your own fault, you know."

Lyra opened her mouth. She tried speak, to retort how she couldn't be responsible when she didn't have any ideas about what happened; but her ability to speak was gone, only a weak patch of white mist leaving her mouth.

The landing must have done a number on her.

Don't just berate me, she glared at the other pony as terror began gripping her mind once more. Help me! I'm dying right next to your freaking hoof...!

"Well, well, well now... do not be so harsh on her. It may be her own fault, but it is really in our fortune."

The new voice got Lyra's immediate attention. She couldn't help but find it weird, having not just one but two ponies greet her in a cave that had been covered by snow just moments before. She didn't need to wonder long about the identity of the second voice's bearer, though; that pony gave her the favour of moving into her vision of his own volition.

A blue coated stallion with a white mane, she could recognize that sight anywhere.

It was that freak of a viscount who had barged into her room... after he had tried to sweet-talk himself into her confidence and subsequently had his goons try to murder her.

Get away from me!

"No need to panic, dear. I am not going to kill you," the viscount made a toothy grin and ran his tongue down his lips. "After all, there are way worse things that could happen to a clueless fool such as yourself... Ah, how lucky is it for me to have you come across my estate, ahahah!"

Lyra couldn't do anything but close her eyes and shiver. She was bracing for the inevitable pain that would follow, fully aware of how little good that would do her once the inevitable did start to happen. The best would have been to not be there at all.

This can't be happening!

If only life was as simple as that, denying the bad things that shouldn't have existed. Still waiting for the worst part of her remaining life to begin, Lyra grimaced as anxiety overpowered the rest of her mind.

Not like this! I- I still have so much to do!

She hadn't said anything to Bon when they parted, for example. Had she known that was the last time they'd meet... she would have surely said something heartfelt. Something profound. Something worthy of remembering her by. To take that away from her... that was an injustice of the greatest magnitude.

That idea was something she could finally hold onto.

Her courage returned. She would confront the viscount and tell him what she thought! He would probably shrug it off and bisect her anyway, but then at least she had tried. She opened her eyes-

-and the darkness barely changed. Nopony was standing by her side, though; that was a plus. Feeling warm was another nice change, especially after the ridiculous amounts of snow she had had to put up with. The stiff ground was also gone, replaced by soft fabrics that enveloped her. Blinking in confusion as she laid on her side, Lyra gulped and tried to move her legs. The limbs reacted properly, shuffling around until they got stuck in the thick blanket covering her. Only her front right leg hurt, the stitches still getting in her way.

The shock fresh in her mind, it took the dazed pony a little while to realize she was resting in her very own bed.

"Just a... dream?" Lyra blinked blindly, then took a deep breath. 

Just a wicked bad dream.

Her blinks were slow; the bed was luring her back to sleep. The drowsiness returned as soon as the dread washed out of her mind; but truth be told, she had no real inclination to return to dreamland for a while. Princess Luna might be put off by the news, but one of her loyal subjects was signing off from the regularly scheduled night activity... as long as she could.

Rubbing her tired eyes and then yawning loudly, Lyra pushed the blanket off from her. She shuddered; the outside air felt chilly. That was normally the worst part of waking up, but right at that moment, she welcomed the refreshing sensation. It was nice to shudder. It was nice to breath, actually.

It was nice to be safe, to be unhurt, to be home... to be alive.

It was an odd feeling that came out of nowhere, but Lyra felt absolutely content.

She was happy and relaxed enough to remain in bed for a few extra seconds. With the blanket gone, the cold air made sure she wouldn't snooze back.

"Wait, a blanket?" she wrinkled her eyebrows and gave them a scratch. She didn't remember taking the blanket out from the drawer. She had been writing her diary, and then she... suddenly found herself sliding down a snowy hillside.

"Somepony must have put me to bed," Lyra wondered aloud and bonked herself on the head a tiny bit. It wasn't really difficult to deduce who that nameless benefactress could have been.

Bon, you crazy mare. You found me snoring on the bedside and was kind enough to not wake me up, weren't you.

Taking another deeper breath, Lyra gave herself a big smile. It came with a few bouts of growling and loud yelling, but it was pretty comforting to live with somepony like Bon.

"Oh! Master is awake."

Squinting to the source of the noise, Lyra found a brightly-coloured outline of a pony staring back at her.

"Morning, Snow-yaa..." Lyra tried to greet the windigo, but her sentence got interrupted by another elongated yawn. "...aaah. What time is it?"

"Early. I am not quite sure - but hmm, actually! A moment, if Master may," Snowy leaped to the window of the room, pressing her face against the glass pane. "The moon is pretty high, so probably a little past midnight."

"A brand new day then," Lyra mumbled. It was nothing but pure sentimentalism, but a wave of energy washed over her at the sound of midnight having passed.

"Isn't it a bit early for Master to be awake?" Snowy turned back to her, the weak lighting from the street barely dimming the ghost's blue outlines. "According to Master's trusted friend, Master should be sleeping until noon tomorrow... and not pop up in the middle of the night."

"I guess you're referring to Bon there," Lyra tried to digest the complicated sentences with a head still half-asleep. "When did she say I would sleep for so long?"

"When she tucked Master into bed," Snowy stated and walked back to the pony's bedside. "I watched Master fall asleep while working on her diary; but lacking a physical form, I couldn't do much but observe. Master's friend came back some time afterwards, deep in the night. She grumbled about how she should have known better than trusting Master's better judgement pertaining to her injured state, then put the diary away and made Master's bed. Nothing else worthwhile to report."

Lyra listened to the recount with a heavy head. She only jumped when the word 'diary' came up. She tried to grab a hold of Snowy - but her hooves passed through the incorporeal creature, and she landed on the floor instead.

"Master should really be more careful about-" Snowy hastily took a step backwards and dropped to the ground as well, keeping her eye-level the same as her master's.

"Ow... the diary," Lyra mumbled, her voice strained as befitting her uncomfortable position. Her lower jaw was resting on the ground, her neck turned at a sharp angle and her torso almost vertical. She didn't think of getting up properly just yet however - not until she got that matter cleared up. "Snowy, the diary. You don't sleep, right? Did... did Bon read into it?"

"I take that not even Master's most prized associate is allowed to read it? Master really wasn't kidding when she said it was a private collection of thoughts," Snowy whistled and raised her eyebrows, then swept the floor as she shook her head in denial. "But no, she did not. She did not even attempt, in fact. She just placed it onto the drawer over there."

"She's the best," Lyra sighed happily, then turned her attention to the signals her neck had been sending. "Also, ow. Oww! I think I should get up..."





"I don't think cold milk is going to help Master sleep any better," Snowy watched Lyra pour some of the white stuff into a glass.

"I don't think sleep's ever going to be on my schedule for the next decade," Lyra sighed and raised the glass to her mouth.

"Oh? It's a simple decision, just like that?" Snowy tilted her head to the side and perked her ears, the ghost completely baffled by the nonchalant answer. "That's strange. I thought all living organisms required a well defined period of rest. Had old Master known about this, he surely would have-"

The glass slammed back onto the table. Not really loudly - Lyra definitely did not want to wake Bon - just forcefully enough to get her point across.

"No more comparing me to old decrepit blue-bloods, got it?"

"Ye- yes. Of course not. Pardon my forgetfulness," Snowy backed off, way more terrified than she ought to be by any sane reasoning.

Lyra would have even cared, had her daily Snowy-acting-weird quota not been full for a half day already. She just filed the reaction off as another strange quirk and hastily moved along, putting the open box of milk back into the fridge.

"Anyhow, this means Master will have a lot of excess time," Snowy probed towards a new topic. The light from the fridge's opened door illuminated the small room for a moment, dimming out the ghost's blue form. "May I inquire how Master wishes to spend that?"

The fridge was shut with a faint thud and the kitchen sunk back into darkness. Doubly so for Lyra. The brief light had confused her eyes - she only saw the bright yellow afterimages, even when her eyelids were shut.

I need an eye patch. Then I'd have at least one eye working after my nightly fridge-binges! she fumed silently. It'd also look pretty cool, now that I think about it.

"Not quite sure. Maybe I'll talk like a pirate," she shrugged. She began to blink rapidly, and was intent on keeping at it until her sight returned; but with her lacking eyesight, she had completely missed the utterly puzzled face of her pet windigo. "I haven't really pulled all-nighters for a long while now. And even then I usually did so with a purpose. Just for the sake of it... nah, never before."

In all honesty, she didn't care what she could do during her nights. She just didn't want to sleep. 

"Old Master used t-" Snowy pondered aloud, then stopped so abruptly as if she had been muzzled all of a sudden.

She hadn't. It was Lyra who gave the blinking a pause and switched to squinting instead, staring angrily - and still blindly - in the direction of the windigo.

"-ahaha. Ahaha... haaa?" Snowy giggled nervously. She was hardly the type for humour - and befittingly, her laughter was quite awkward, her whole being unused to the action. She put in very little effort as well - she was simply trying to get out of a tight spot by imitating a reaction she had often seen the living do. "Anyway, I was wondering if Master thought about... about... about..."

Letting her eyelids slide down all the way and her ears drop horizontal, Lyra held a hoof to her head in the cover of the darkness. She had often been frustrated by how only she could sense Snowy; but in certain moments she felt very glad the ghost couldn't embarrass her with its quirky behaviour.

"How about reading?" Snowy finally put an idea forward.

Why would you even propose that? You can't even read! Lyra pushed her hoof harder against her head, wrinkling the skin. Are you just rephrasing Old Master Did Whatever as your own random ideas now?

She cracked her eyes open and sighed.

Well, whatever. We're still making progress... small steps and blah blah.

The annoying yellow light had finally faded from Lyra's sight, and a monochrome world greeted her n turn. It was night and the lights were off, so only the moon provided some illumination. The end effect wasn't simply dark; she could almost liken it to arriving in some alternate world. Microscopic specks of dust danced in thin strands of light that sneaked in through the window. Everything in the kitchen traded colours for contrast; Lyra could have sworn she saw even the slightest bumps on the surfaces.

She had never really paid the night much care before, but she had to admit: that it was a really interesting sight.

Not interesting enough to keep her entertained longer than a half minute, though.

"Reading it is, then," she declared with a touch of finality, certain in her belief that the windigo wouldn't change her mind. She hobbled away from the window, into the darker part of the room. She almost stumbled once or twice, hooves bumping into stuff she had forgotten about; but she safely arrived to the small drawer in the hall in the end. Using her magic both to lift a pack of magazines and to provide some light on the way back, Lyra made her way back to the kitchen.

The amber aura around her horn easily overpowered the pale light of the moon. She made a sour note on that; the kitchen returned to its usual self, albeit with a lick of amber hue. Still, it couldn't be helped; she would need the light if she were to read.

The magazines landed on the kitchen table with a light crack. No unicorn magic binding them together any more, their stack fell apart. Magazines spilled in every direction, shiny pages crumpling and folding aimlessly. The sight made Lyra bite on her lips instinctively. While those magazines were old - purchased before they left for vacation -, she had never asked if Bon had wanted to read any of them anyway. 

And Bon wouldn't be happy if something of her interest got damaged.

May have wanted to think of that BEFORE I dropped them, Lyra clenched her teeth and exhaled deeply. Aaargh. Why can't I simply wait and think before I do something!

"Whoaaa," Snowy moaned with unmasked admiration. "A veritable library! One as vast as at the doctor's place, too! Master continues to amaze me."

"Library?" Lyra squinted downwards, making doubly sure she had fetched what she had gone to grab. "What are you on about? These are just magazines."

"They are full of letters and pictures all the same! I can't even fathom how long it must have taken for ponies to write them," Snowy circled around the table, her eyes measuring the ramshackle pile of paper. "Each of these could be worth a smaller fortune back in old Mast- I mean, before my recent slumber."

Her eyebrows raised high, Lyra finally understood where the windigo was coming from.

"Well, times change! These are pretty worthless nowadays," she gave the topmost magazine a rough push, flinging it across the kitchen table. "You can get them thrown at you for free if you ask. The ones from last week, anyway. Still gotta' pay for the fresh news."

"Astounding..." Snowy gawked. She was completely dumbstruck, her gaze running back and forth without much comprehension. "It's like everypony is a noble nowadays..."

"That's what I've been trying to bash into that thick skull of yours!" Lyra bumped the windigo on the head. Tried to, rather; her hoof went straight through the incorporeal body. Snowy didn't as much as notice the attempt. Hastily retracting her hoof, Lyra made a mental note to never ever do that again. "Ah- ahem! Anyway, you gave me a real good idea there. We're going to spend our nights reading!"

"Hurrah! I was useful!" Snowy burst into a cheer. "Will Master permit me to look at the pictures this time around, then?"

"Nope. No pictures," Lyra gave a firm verbal smack to those hopes. "I said that we're going to read. We. Plural."

"But I can't-" Snowy made a half-hearted attempt at reminding her master, the upbeat tone quickly fading from her faltering voice.

"Oh, sure you can. It's not like I was born with some innate magic that allows me to read," Lyra flashed a toothy grin and cracked a fashion magazine open with her magic. She then grabbed a spoon that had been forgotten on the table, and pressed it against the paper. "I will read aloud and you follow the writing, okay? Follow the spoon, Snowy."

The windigo didn't seem quite as enthusiastic about the whole idea as Lyra had hoped.

"I'm... not sure if this is wise," Snowy scratched the side of her head and fiddled anxiously, shifting around in place. "Master may come to regret this. Old Mas- I mean, I have always been told it's not a good idea if ice demons learn too much-"

A loud snort cut off the rest of that sentence.

"You're bothersome," Lyra spoke through her clenched teeth. She would have also exhaled steam were she capable of doing so; she certainly was angry enough for such feats. "Just forget about that old wart already! I am your current Master, and I will not stand to have somepony like you get treated like that! So you will be reading with me - and that's an order, if you won't listen otherwise!"

"Ye- yes, Master," Snowy quailed.

"Good!" Lyra nodded firmly and snapped her head back to the magazines. She wasn't sure exactly why, but she was so angry it took her real effort to not stab the spoon through the thin paper. "So, this line reads - The newest trends this winter in Equestria..."





"A... Rrr... T... L..."

"Nope," Lyra sighed and poked the spoon into the same spot for the third time. "That's an 'i'... art-i-st, see? It should be easy to spot - has that fancy dot on top of it."

"The one before didn't have one either," Snowy whined and pointed a hoof to the previous sentence.

"That's because that's a capital letter."

"Oh," Snowy blinked at the thin line of black ink. She then dropped her head and hung it low, publicly signalling her defeat and subsequent surrender. "Did Master ever think this whole reading thing is a tad... complicated? I am shocked at how every commoner pony can apparently learn this."

"That's because you're stuck with a pretty useless teacher," Lyra grinned widely and slammed the magazine closed. "I'm only supposed to play music, for Celestia's sake! This is quite far from my field of expertise."

Snowy perked her ears at the remark. A long delay preceded her response however - it was obvious she was having issues phrasing her thoughts. Lyra didn't interrupt in any way whatsoever; she sat still and eyed the ghost, curious as to what would follow.

"For what it's worth Master, I am infinitely thankful anyway," Snowy finally spat it out, eyes still floor-ward. "For Master to go to such lengths... haa, I have nothing on me."

The skin at the back of her lips pulling backwards as she made a grimace, Lyra pressed all the air out of her lungs. That wasn't the reaction she had been hoping for - but it didn't truly surprise her either. It would have been accurate to say she had been dreading it... and just tried not to think about it.

As if not thinking about things ever solved them, she berated herself internally. Lyra Heartstrings, you're the uncrowned queen of putting your head into the sand.

"Don't fret it," she found her voice after the mental punishment of her own self. "I'm sure you're exceptional, somehow. I've had a hooded weirdo enter my head and sign a contract with me, after all! I'm sure that was for more than just some invisible baggage. So we just need to keep looking... I'm sure something will turn up."

"Bwaaah!" Snowy blared and rushed under the table. 

Lyra was taken by such surprise that she couldn't follow the move; she only crouched and peeked once Snowy had been completely cuddled up.

What's it this time? Lyra eyed the windigo, a decidedly unamused look on her face. She was giving her best, so there was no reason for things to turn out such a way.

"Master is also providing me emotional support!" Snowy continued to shout, unaware that her master had also crept closer. "THIS ISN'T SUPPOSED TO GO THIS WAAHAHAHAAY!"

Oh sweet pony princess on a pogo stick, Lyra straightened back up and placed her forehead onto the table's edge. Stick to music, girl. Just stick to music and let Bon handle the rest.

She was sure that making a windigo break into sobbing tears was an achievement of its own. One that signified how much she had flopped as a master. Or as a pony in general.

She couldn't wait until Bon woke up and cleared that mess up.

I guess she's right and I'm still a big filly, Lyra ceded. The bawling from under the table showed no signs of ebbing though, and was getting on her nerves fast. Lyra's first idea was to ask the windigo to just shut up... but then she changed her mind. That surely would have gone great ways to improve Snowy's morale, after all.

Her second best idea was bearing the noise. Somehow.

It may be easier if I can distract myself, I guess. 

So she cracked another magazine open. A good story would surely help her ease up...

"BLAURGH!"

Lyra bit hard onto her tongue and perked her ears. She counted to ten and only dead silence followed; the house was silent. She exhaled and her nerves let up a little; she was sure she had woken up Bon for a moment, there.

All because of a stupid magazine.

Of all the things, a two-page poster of Octavia and her lovely temporary band were smiling at her.

Just what I need to relax, is it? Lyra furrowed her eyebrows, a mild shake running down her neck. Is this going to be another of THOSE days, really?

"Oh, it's that pony again."

The sudden appearance of Snowy delivered another hammer blow to Lyra's shaky calmness. She was still under the spell of her previous fright though, so she managed to keep her scream under control. She just frowned and leaned away.

"I recall this pony from the book at the doctor's office," Snowy hummed at Octavia's picture. "Master voiced her dislike even back there. Less loudly, perhaps."

C-calm! Lyra glared at the windigo. You're like, so calm you piss me off! Weren't you a shaking wreck a moment ago?!

It was nice to see Snowy having recovered, though. Beyond the internal voices of her envy that is.

"Yeah... I don't like her," Lyra sighed and returned her attention to the poster in the magazine. "I would say the feeling's mutual, but I'd bet my favourite shampoo that she doesn't even know about me. Aww, that pisses me off even more...!"

"Sounds like an unfavourable position," Snowy nodded curtly and leaned closer to the magazine herself. "I fail to see what is so harmful about her, though. She looks like another pony. Quite refined, too."

"Shows what you know!" Lyra yanked her head away with a huff, then turned back slowly as an idea struck her. "Hey, Snowy!"

"Yes?" the windigo propped her head up. Her whole being snapped to attention, like a bowstring ready to fire.

"Let's work on getting something useful out of you," Lyra sneered evilly and moved right into Snowy's face. "Couldn't you try doing something about that pony?"

"Doing... what, exactly?" Snowy bore her discomfort out with a grin and tried to back off a little. "Master may ought to be a bit more specific..."

"How can I be specific when neither of us knows what you can do?" Lyra fumed and rose her right leg at the magazine. "Do whatever you do! C'me on, you're an imponification of ice and fear! Do what windigos do, if nothing else! Jump, Snowy! Maim! Kill! Freeze!"

Snowy didn't do any of those. She simply sat down and eyed her master with open suspicion.

"Nope. Haven't lost my mind yet," Lyra parried the most obvious case that could have been born against her. "I was just... you know, trying to psych you up."

"Obviously," Snowy raised an eyebrow and cocked her head sideways.

"But seriously. Try something. It may be Octy, but that's still just a magazine. Printed paper. Nopony will miss it if you do something terrible to it," Lyra lowered her leg with a sigh. "Just... don't break the table, m'kay? Bon would be angry if she were to wake up to the noises of me breaking the furniture. And currently, I think I'm going to be dead if Bon is going to be angry."

"R-right. That's, um, real reassuring to hear, Master," Snowy gulped audibly, but turned to the open magazine anyway. She focused, her concentration palpable...

It was only for a moment, but Lyra could have sworn she saw something. The windigo flickered and shone brightly, the crimson eyes burning with an immense light - then all the colours faded, back to their usual intensity.

Lyra felt curious and waited for a few more moments, but Snowy didn't appear to plan on following up that performance with anything.

"Okay... what did you just do?" she asked, cautiously darting her eye between the magazine and the ghost.

"No idea?" Snowy scratched her head, sharing her master's confusion. "I was just... trying something, as Master had instructed me to. I was doing whatever felt... natural to do."

"Natural, huh?" Lyra nodded and turned to the magazine proper. "Well, let's see..."

She grabbed the magazine with her magic and drew it closer to herself, carefully and cautiously. There was nothing strange about the papers though; she had expected to find them frozen at least, but not even that much had happened. She flipped through the pages real quick, but there was nothing strange about them. A simple magazine about various artists, some pages serving as interesting stories, others as glorified ads. A painter here, a showmare there, an aspiring writer, a temporary band with-

"BLAurmfph."

Lyra bit onto her tongue just in time to prevent herself from breaking into a shout again. To think somepony would sneak Octavia into the middle of a magazine! The nerve! Didn't the editors know that legit musicians were also reading that magazine-

-wait a second.

Her eyes glued to the poster in the middle of the magazine, Lyra had the oddest sense of déja vu. She was sure she had flipped through that magazine before already. She actually remembered the articles... except for that poster in the middle.

That was some real selective forgetfulness right there.

What the...

"Master?"

Lyra wasn't paying the windigo any attention. She was busy - an idea had crossed her mind. A truly preposterous, nonsense idea. An idea that only needed something very simple to verify. She grabbed the spoon and jabbed it through the page, right through Octavia's prized violin.

Okay, that's ought to leave a mark.

"Snowy!" she turned to the windigo right afterwards, shoving the magazine straight into the poor ghost's face. "Whatever you did a second ago - do it again!"

"Wha- why?" Snowy faltered under the inexplicable command, but complied nonetheless. "As you wish, Master... but I don't see the point..."

Lyra saw the flash from the cover of the magazine. This time she didn't hesitate; she was full of anticipation. She closed the magazine and started going through the pages, hastily flipping them one after another. A story she remembered... another article she had read... another, another, yet another...

Then she stopped in the middle, and an excited breath escaped her mouth.

She arrived to a huge poster about Octavia and her temporarily assembled band.

There was something wrong with that poster, even beyond the dubious choice of subject. Lyra could easily recall having skimmed through that whole magazine no less than three times before; she could have even recounted the headlines had she cared to do so. The poster in the middle, however... that seemed new to her. That struck her as odd.

That double-page picture should have been impossible to miss, but she had no recollection of it whatsoever.

A part of her was willing to chalk that up to random chance; she had always been quite willing to ignore Octavia, after all. She couldn't simply leave the matter at that, though; the page sported a gaping hole, and that piqued her interest. A damaged poster in an otherwise pristine magazine was quite the oddity. Especially since only two ponies had access to that magazine - and it couldn't have been Bon; her friend had repeatedly made a point of keeping herself out of Lyra's 'self-invented rivalry'.

So it was me, Lyra felt her heart beat faster, her gaze fixed on the hole in the page. The puncture was right where Octavia's violin used to be; too specific for some random damage. Mulling over the fact, Lyra absent-mindedly rose her eyes and glanced around... then grabbed the spoon from the table. She held the cheap piece of cutlery in front of her, tried to judge its dimensions; then jabbed it through the hole. The spoon slid through the opening, a perfect fit.

"Master, is that..." Snowy inched closer, the importance of the damaged paper also dawning on her.

"And you said you weren't good at anything," Lyra whispered, completely mesmerized by the sight. She only had a rough inkling of what she may have stumbled over, but even the implications set her mind ablaze.

She was onto something huge.

She threw the magazine away and grabbed another at random. She was hasty, but in truth there was no need for her to be; she had a whole night to test theories. She just couldn't help being excited.

By the time morning arrives, Lyra Heartstrings could be in possession of a supernatural power that nopony else had ever heard about.
> 15 - Going to the library
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"WHAT IN CELESTIA'S NAME HAPPENED HERE?!"

The confused yell was from Bon. She stood in the doorway, her blue eyes running circles around the kitchen. She had some issues in recognizing the place. She vividly remembered having left it in order last night, right after she had put Lyra to bed.

What greeted her was in stark contrast to that memory. The term 'utter chaos' came to her mind instead.

Old magazines lay strewn around everywhere, covering the table and even the kitchen counter; peppered in between were the occasional torn pages and pieces of white paper. Actually, on second thought, there was a lot of white paper as well. Enough to make even the most soulless timberwolves hold a minute of pause and then cry out in pain.

That just wouldn't do; none of that would. Bon was certain she did not leave a veritable forest of dead trees in her kitchen last night. And even if she would have had, she wouldn't have made it look as if a hurricane had rampaged through said forest of dead trees.

She was looking at a disaster zone.

Most ordinary ponies would have panicked at the sight. Worried about how they were going to clean up, about who had left their beautiful house in such a miserable state, call the Royal Guard to catch the burglar... Bon, however, was beyond such notions. The long years she had spent in that household had taught her many things, and she had learnt her lessons well. She knew she only had to make one angry yell to find the culprit and the pony who was going to clean up. She opened her mouth, sucked in air until her lungs threatened to burst, held it down, then-

"LYRA HEARTSTRINGS!"

"Bon! Bon! Bon! You're awake! Ohmigosh, you're awake!"

The voice came from under a larger pile of torn magazines. The pile gave off a calm look in one moment, then burst into a whirlwind of colourful papers in the next; and in the middle of that maelstrom stood a cyan unicorn with baggy eyes, grinning as if she had glued her lips to her ears again.

Though on a second thought, Bon gave herself a correction. It was a little early to rule out that mishap having reoccurred. It was always a little early to rule out any possibility when it came to Lyra.

"How come you're up so early? Did you fall asleep at five yesterday?" Bon gave her friend a deeply suspicious look, then motioned her hoof around the room and switched to a more threatening tone. "And more to the point - just what did you do to my kitchen?!"

"Testing. Stuff," Lyra shuffled. She shook her mane and scratched her neck with her hooves, freeing some bits of paper from the long strands of hair. "Important stuff. Tee-hee!"

"Does that 'stuff' involve the limits of my patience?" Bon growled, her eyebrows developing deep wrinkles.

"Yes! No! Maybe? I don't know! It doesn't matter!" Lyra giggled. She spun around herself and ran a hoof through the pile of trash surrounding her. Bon had doubts whether her friend was looking for anything specific in particular. Whatever it was, Lyra found it quickly. The moment was marked by her bursting into laughter; then she lifted a crumpled piece of paper with a lot of scribbles on it, pushing it straight into Bon's face. "Look! I was having CONVERSATIONS with myself!"

Bon didn't even need the paper to know what had happened.

"To think I had even sent you to doctor yesterday," she squeezed her eyes closed and held a hoof against her forehead. "I really thought your head was okay though..."

"No-no! It's not that! I've discussed that with myself already, and I totally agree with myself that I'm fine!" Lyra bounced away excitedly, a short-lived rain of oversized confetti following her action. "I've got a second opinion, heheheh!"

"Second opinions only count when they are from somepony else," Bon groaned. What a wonderful start her day had taken, her best friend having had gone bonkers overnight.

"It IS somepony else! Well, kind of! I mean, it's not really talking to myself if I don't remember what I said to myself, right?" Lyra hollered as she fell flat on her back, her hooves pointed at the ceiling. "Seriously, try it! I promise you'll see how much fun it is!"

Bon had her misgivings on that claim, but she saw no reason to flat out refuse. She liked to keep an open mind; of all the craziness Lyra kept doing, some things were bound to turn out fun every now and again.

Why the heck not...

Lyra was obviously having a lot of fun, after all.

"Okay, I'll bite," Bon shrugged, working hard on maintaining her indifference. Best not be uppity about an idea she hadn't even tried yet. "What do I do?"

"Nothing much!" Lyra giggled and rolled around, hissing a little when she strained the stitches in her shoulder. "Owie. Just grab a paper and write something there! Anything! Well... okay, not anything. A complete sentence. As if you were talking to somepony!"

Okay, getting slightly weird, Bon rolled her eyes. She put a hoof onto the closest white paper anyway, then took the quill lying on the table. The long feather tickled her eye when she held it in her mouth, but she could live with that; especially since the other end was still dripping with ink. Not needing to refill the quill meant that she wouldn't have to put up with it for too long. She proceeded to draw a few blanks after that; she had no idea what she was expected to write. She chewed on the tasteless feather for a while, rolling it in her mouth... then shrugged and scribbled down the first thing that came to mind.

'I swear Lyra's really gone bonkers this time.'

It wasn't much, it wasn't really poetic, but it truly came from the bottom of her heart.

"Done?" Lyra grinned. The anticipation was clearly visible not just on her face, but on her whole being. "Good! SNOWY! DO EEET!"

Bon felt reassured in her initial assessment... then she recalled how Lyra seemed to have acquired a strange poltergeist recently. Wasn't that thing called Snowy?

"Oh stop fretting! Glory to the brave! What kind of a windigo are you anyway? Meekdigo, more like!" Lyra snorted angrily and turned to a random direction. From the way Bon saw it, her friend was talking to the stove... an amusing, if slightly distressing sight. "I'm a pony, Bon's a pony, we're all ponies down here! It worked on me, so it'll work on her just as well! Besides, I thought I was your master or something! If I say go, then it's a-go!"

As she put the puzzle-pieces together in her head, Bon found that monologue way less amusing.

"Wa- wait a sec! Are you testing your ghostie on me?" she yelped and glanced around. She didn't feel strange whatsoever, but she grew incredibly nervous all of a sudden.

"Nup! Just playing a game," Lyra turned back to Bon with an aloof grin, waving a hoof as the universal sign of 'chill out'. "I've already done all the testing on me, hehe! You may want to read that paper next to you, by the way. Fufufu..."

The way Lyra struggled to contain her laughter - and kept failing at every turn - went a great way to ease Bon's unease. Lyra's relationship with responsibility had been a rocky one; one could say she had a restraining order against the mere concept of it. On the other hoof, the easy-going musician had always meant well; she wouldn't do anything that would harm anypony. Especially not her closest friend.

With such reassuring thoughts in mind, Bon turned to the paper next to her. 

"Okay, so what should I look for?"

Annoyingly enough, Lyra kept silent; so Bon frowned, shook her head, and began reading.

There were a bunch of lines that looked like somepony arguing with herself. They didn't convey anything useful, however; they only made Bon wonder if Lyra had a latent case of dissociative identity disorder. Then her gaze wandered onto the last line. It looked more recent than the rest - the ink hadn't had time to dry yet.

'I swear Lyra's really gone bonkers this time.'

Got that right, Bon growled to herself. There's absolutely no making sense of her-

She paused. Then, after a few seconds had passed, that pause grew into outright hesitation.

The last sentence had been written in a markedly different style to the rest. All the preceding lines were made by the same pony; but the last one, the very last one, that was the work of a different one. Not just any either... 

Bon could easily recognize her own writing.

Rearing her had back as if the sight had burnt her nose, she felt more confused than ever. That line was obviously written by her. It wasn't a forgery either; she could feel the lingering taste of a quill in her mouth. Only she couldn't recall writing anything there - or writing anything in the last few minutes, period.

The ghost...!

"What sort of trickery is this!" Bon boomed, shooting a piercing glare at - and through - her friend. She had an idea what had happened, and that idea was absolutely not to her liking. She had done something she had no recollection of... even if Lyra had enjoyed that sort of thing, that was no joke.

"Aww," Lyra sat down and hung her head low, dejected. "I really thought you'd enjoy it the same much as I have. Ah well..."





The smell of coffee began to permeate the air. Thin lines of mist rose from the two cups, only extinguished when the cold milk brought the drinks to room temperature.

"So you found your ghost can induce selective amnesia," Bon recapped, wholly ignoring the milk bottle that floated past her head. "And right after that, the first best thing you could think of was... that you could have a real conversation with yourself? By repeatedly performing small-scale lobotomy on your own memories no less."

"Don't tell me you never wanted to try that out," Lyra slammed the fridge closed after she had the milk move back inside. "It's pretty mind-blowing! It was really like exchanging lines with another pony... only she agreed with everything I said. Usually."

"My sweet everything..." Bon cracked at the aloof reply. Her eyelids dropped and her head fell to the side, her mouth contorted into a disbelieving grin. "Who on Equestria saw you fit to command such a dangerous power?"

"I think that's offensive towards Master," Snowy scratched her neck. She was listening into the conversation from her usual spot, from the top of the stove.

You think? Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She didn't do any berating this time however - while the windigo's odd interpretations were wearing her nerves thin, the discovery of Snowy's potential went to great lengths in comforting her.

"You're just jealous," Lyra turned her attention back to her friend, throwing a sly wink at the other pony. "Admit it, that was a pretty funny game."

"Only it's not a game," Bon groaned and stared at her wobbling reflection in the coffee, her hooves pressed against her cup. "Do you have any idea how dangerous this could be? This is a tremendous power, Lyra! This needs to be reported to the Guard! Heck, I bet even the princesses would want to hear of this!"

"Slow down there," Lyra grabbed her own cup of coffee, her magic keeping the brown porcelain cup hovering next to her mouth. "Do you think I would really want to involve the nobility in my case? It worked out really well the last time, I mean."

"Oh, really?" Snowy jolted at her master's reaction. "I thought Master was harassed by assassins and was almost killed on three different occasions. I thought we had also concluded that Master may have been forced to utilize my latent abilities back there already?"

Sarcasm. I'm definitely teaching her sarcasm as soon as we're done with the alphabet, Lyra gritted her teeth and lifted the cup to her mouth. She forgot how she had a drinking problem whenever she was angry; but life was happy to remind her once again, a thick stream of coffee running past her muzzle, down her neck and finally her legs. 

"ARGH!" she swore and threw the cup back onto the table. The shiny piece of porcelain didn't care much for the action though - it flipped over and spilled completely, painting all the magazines and papers on the table brown.

"You need help, that's for certain," Bon sighed and took a sip from her own cup. "Besides, I doubt you could really compare a backwater viscount to either of our princesses. I know it's getting fashionable to mistrust those with power, but I've never heard anything bad about them. Quite the contrary, in fact. Even Luna is supposed to have cooled down lots. I heard she can even talk properly nowadays."

"Splendid. I'm relieved she won't damage my eardrums as she announces how her sister will banish me to the moon," Lyra rolled her eyes as she tried to keep the coffee away from her bandage... with varying degrees of success. She mostly just smeared the brown liquid all over her front.

"Did you seriously just roll every negative stereotype about them into one sentence?" Bon facehooved. "But anyway, you need somepony to look after you, Lyra. This power of yours... if anypony hears of it, you'll be in trouble."

"Nuh-uh! I mean well and everypony knows that," Lyra gave up on cleaning herself and threw the coffee-stained papers onto the floor. "I mean, okay, I've just played a silly game so far. But imagine the possibilities, Bon! I could be a world-renown therapist! I've even thought of a cool slogan - FORGET YOUR WOES, START ANEW! Lyra Heartstrings, the cure for every ill that poisons the mind!"

"Catchy," Bon made a serene nod, then turned to Lyra with a bored expression. "Hey, before I... heh, forget. Could you spare me some bits? I kinda' burnt through my purse yesterday."

"Heh! And I thought you were supposed to be the responsible one," Lyra cackled. She hopped to her hooves and limped out of the kitchen, shouting as she rummaged through her saddlebag. "But this is special, got it? Only because I've made a mess!"

"Don't even remind me," Bon mumbled morosely, then gulped another mouthful of a coffee.

Lyra hobbled back into the room in the meantime. The musician had a dark-blue purse float before her; she threw it onto the table just as Bon put her cup down.

"Help yourself," she exclaimed as she moved around the table, back to her overturned cup. She lifted the brown porcelain and gave it a longing look. "Aww, all gone. I was kind of looking forward to this..."

"Make a fresh batch, then. Hmm... three hundred bits. Not bad," Bon examined the purse. She glanced around afterwards, looking for something in the mess that were their kitchen. "Lyra, is your ghost still around?"

"Don't say 'ghost'. She's got a name you know! She's Snowy," Lyra growled absent-mindedly, most of her thoughts focussed on determining whether she wanted to go through the pains of cleaning the coffee pot. "But yeah, she's around me. Like always. She's sitting on the stove right now."

Noting she had been brought up, Snowy gave the ponies a wide-grinned wave. Everypony in the room was aware how Bon couldn't see the move, but the gesture was nice anyway.

"Sitting on... the stove? Ugh. Gotta' buy some disinfectant," Bon rubbed her temple, then shook her head in earnest. "Ah, anyway. Lyra, I'm taking this purse of yours, m'kay?"

"Wha- the whole thing?" Lyra yanked her head towards her friend, her ears dropping at the news. "But I... I kinda' had plans for that money..."

"Correct! Had. Past tense. Because now I'm using my ghostly powers to make you forget that you ever gave your purse to me!" Bon raised her hooves and wiggled them, suspiciously like how a third rate actor would play a magician.

Lyra turned around completely, her jaw hanging.

"You... you can't do that! That's not fair!"

"Sure isn't. You'd think you had lost it somewhere. You'd never suspect me - you'd never have a reason to," Bon flung the purse back to its proper owner. "And you're right, I couldn't do it. I don't have inexplicable magical powers. You can, however. You can do an awful lot of things, Lyra. I mean, I trust you! You hadn't even thought of this. You're a good pony, Lyra... but."

That 'but' evoked a dry gulp out of Lyra. She could easily figure what was going to follow up.

"I doubt every single pony is as reserved as you are. Many would see opportunities in your abilities," Bon carried on, staring Lyra in the eye. "Once word gets out, you may be in trouble. Maybe nothing bad will happen... that would be lucky. Until ponies will start to doubt, anyway. Quite a few are weary of the princesses even, remember? Even Celestia, who had repeatedly proven herself time after time."

Bon took a momentary pause.

"You are, in turn, a blank card with a power comparable to theirs... literally popping out of nowhere," she continued, turning to her emptying cup. "What would happen whenever somepony forgot something, I wonder? How would they react? Would they think of you? Would they suspect you being behind their woes? Perhaps blame you? What do you think?"

"I think they would keep writing everything down so they didn't forget so easily," Snowy pondered aloud, completely missing where the question was going.

"Of course they would blame me," Lyra muttered, her lips trembling. Her face readily told how much the realization shook her rosy dreams. "Anypony who doesn't know me as good as you do... would definitely blame me."

It would only be natural.

Bon nodded serenely, then rose her cup to her mouth again. Lyra watched in silence; though in truth, her thoughts were such a tangled web that she couldn't really think of anything to say anyway.

"Talk to the Guard," Bon cleared her throat and placed the empty cup back onto the table. "That's what I would advise, anyway. You're a grown mare, so I leave the decision in your hooves. I'm going to stand by your side, no matter what you do..."

Bon's mouth contorted into a wry grin as she took another pause. She visibly hesitated in finishing the sentence.

Lyra had no idea what her friend may have weighed inside her head. She didn't truly care either. The mere fact that Bon was being forced to judge so carefully served as a good alarm to her. Rarely did Bon act like that - and always with good reason when she did.

"But please understand that I'm just an everyday pony," Bon finally decided on going ahead and speaking her mind. "One of the million, you could say. I would gladly move every rock for you when push comes to shove... but this isn't an everyday prank. This once, you can get so deep I won't be able to pull you out. I think. So... so whatever you do, be careful, m'kay?"





"I never get to enjoy anything," Lyra sighed with overflowing weariness. She timed the comment carefully, making sure the front entrance had been closed by the time she spoke; she wouldn't have wanted Bon to overhear the remark. The warning she had been given was sensible, after all. She couldn't fault her friend for giving her a reality-check.

Even so...

"Master's friend leaves quite frequently," Snowy remarked, the windigo standing next to her master in the narrow hallway.

"Probably some business she's trying to keep me out of," Lyra shrugged and turned around, taking her first hobbling step toward her room.

Bon's surprise departure hadn't taken her by much surprise. She had suspected some foul play after the almost day long 'shopping' trip of yesterday; but with Bon opting to disappear again, her suspicion was all but confirmed. Not that she really cared. Bon was a big girl, too; she had no reason to inform Lyra on every move of hers. She was most likely looking for a job again. Unlike Lyra, who had a more or less comfortable employment with managers setting her schedule and performances, Bon was more of a freelancer. She jumped from job to job, taking opportunities as they presented themselves.

It wasn't unusual for Bon to disappear every now and then. It wasn't something either of them enjoyed; but it would have been hard to pay for their house and other expenses otherwise. No matter how many bits Lyra earned with a performance, those shows were irregular and couldn't be truly relied upon. She was a queen in some months, yes; but she was also a beggar in others. It was those thin months when Bon's help was really handy.

Heh, handy.

Limping from the hallway into her room, Lyra snickered with thinly veiled satisfaction. Bon had already promised to smack her silly were she ever to use that word again. Too bad, really. That had put a damper on her wittier puns...

...maybe I could make her forget about that, Lyra thought to herself, but immediately rejected the proposal. This is exactly the thing I should NEVER be doing, duh. And certainly not on Bon anyway. Bad Lyra, bad! Never think about this-

A flash of blue made Lyra pause. Snowy leaped over her, landing in front of the dumbstruck pony.

She sure has a way of demanding my attention when she wants to, Lyra raised her eyebrows. She was continuously impressed with the displays of ghostly acrobatics.

"Master, if I may inquire..." the windigo began softly. The tone, coupled with the preceding leap, proved how uncertain she must have felt. Snowy moved slowly whenever she felt comfortable, only using speedy manoeuvres when she felt threatened... or really excited. "What is Master planning to do now?"

"Heck if I know," Lyra put all her honesty into a shrug. "I'm not big on the whole 'planning' thing. I prefer improvising."

"If Master's friend is proven correct, then Master may be in danger," Snowy cocked her head to the side. Her eyes narrowed, giving her a much more - almost dramatic - demonic presence. "I can not allow that. No matter what happens, Master must not be put into danger."

Lyra glared back at the windigo with a similarly questioning, almost suspicious expression.

Not even a single thought to your own well-being, huh... 

She wasn't sure if she approved of such single-mindedness. It felt unnatural. Which Snowy kind of was, being a servitude-bound ghost and all that; but she had also acted in a way that poked at Lyra's care-for-others feelings.

Acting on those feelings was difficult, however. She had started trying - letters were a nice beginning - but her options were always limited. She couldn't simply break those invisible chains off and let Snowy go. Especially not now.

Can't release a confused creature with this kind of power, Lyra bit on her lip and turned away. She didn't want to look at the subject of her internal debate. 

As much as she had enjoyed letting her imagination run wild with the possibilities of the newfound power, she couldn't help but feel how it also served as a big reason why Snowy would never be truly released of her bonds. As far as consequences went, Lyra didn't enjoy that one. It made her feel like a slave owner, even more so when she had no actual benefits to keeping Snowy around.

Happy thoughts, she tried to calm herself. Happy thoughts. I'm doing the right things. Totally am.

"Master," Snowy pleaded again, "Master, please. This is important."

"I know," Lyra scratched her head and glanced down the hallway. She wasn't really looking for anything in particular - she was just a little lost, and hoped to stumble onto her answer by pure random chance. "I know. I mean, Bon's usually right, isn't she? She thinks everything through. But this once... I don't know. I'm not convinced. She says ponies would be afraid of me... of you... of us. That they would fear a wildcard that had just popped up."

"Sounds very plausible," Snowy confirmed her stance on the issue.

"Sure does. IF we remain unknown," Lyra twisted her neck again, then drew a deep breath and steeled her will. "That's not our only choice, though. I could walk around town... help ponies, you know? Of course I'd need to keep a low profile. Look natural, do my stuff from the background. But ponies would surely notice that things become better when Lyra hears of their woes, right? They'd connect the dots after a while."

"So Master would make the populace think Master is kind of a... good luck charm?" Snowy rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "A quite peculiar way to use an ability that can only destroy memories, if I may say so myself."

Lyra frowned at that defeatist attitude, even if it was technically correct. They had tested a lot of situations over the night; and as it had turned out, Snowy could only make her forget about things. The windigo couldn't alter memories or implant fake ones. Still, that singular skill was scarily powerful on its own. Snowy could work it with pinpoint precision after a little practice, going as far as blanking out mere articles out of a magazine in Lyra's head.

"Good luck charm... heh. Why not? Though in actuality I was more thinking of becoming a hero," Lyra smirked and stepped closer to her ghostly servant, doing her darnest to look the windigo in the eyes.

"Ha! I never took Master as such a vain pony," Snowy cackled with a hollow tone and dropped to the floor. "Master is saying things just for my sake again... this will lead to no good."

"I can be vain if it's for a purpose. I'll gladly be a hero if it's for good ends," Lyra explained. She had approached the ghost, standing so close that she could put a hoof through the creature. She crouched to the floor and looked up, finally managing to establish eye-contact. It was a little strange, but it served as a great way to underline the meaning behind her words. "Once I'm unquestionably a hero... once I have proven I only did all that to help others... ponies will accept me. Just look at Celestia! Everypony reveres her. They may grumble about her, but it's not like that really mattered - ponies always grumble about everything anyway. And once I am... once we are established as good folks... then I can reveal you to the world. Safely. Without repercussions."

She followed that promise up with a wink. She had no idea what to expect, but Snowy still managed to surprise her.

The windigo turned her head a little and eyed her master back, obviously waiting for something more to follow. She didn't understand Lyra's rationale, and her question only served to make that fact painfully obvious.

"So... Master would try to become a nameless do-gooder - then later try to claim all the fame, once it's safe?" Snowy pushed her muzzle upwards with a hoof, the crimson eyes glancing directly upwards. "I suppose that is a pretty good plan. One with minimal risks, too. I suppose I cannot object to something like that, indeed!"

Lyra felt glad that she was lying on the ground already, for the answer had cracked her a little. Nothing too bad, just another notch on her feelings. Snowy hadn't known her for too long though, so she could easily forgive the windigo for misunderstanding.

She didn't want fame or anything like that. She didn't even care for it. It was all a means to an end: to establish the strange windigo and somehow present her to the world. To set her free, to save her -  just as she had saved Lyra, back in the depths of a collapsed mine.

Tit for tat.

Having Snowy understand that plan was just an optional bonus, however. As long as she played along and lent her powers appropriately, Lyra was fine with moving ahead. She was sure that as long as she kept trying her best, things would work out on their own. That was how she had lived her life, after all - and it hadn't really led her astray.

A tried and tested method, if there ever was one.

"Right," she made a wry smirk and pushed herself back to a standing position. She was a little wobbly at first, but corrected her stance quickly; she was already good at standing on three legs. "Let's get going, then."

"Get going... where?" Snowy asked with a blank stare. "I gather Master will not follow the wish of Master's friend, so we're not going to the Guard..."

"Got that right," Lyra deepened her smirk to a full-blown grin. "We're going to visit the only place where I can learn more about you. I need to know the limits of this ability if I'm going to rely on it so much. I mean, testing using magazines is nice and all that... but we're not magicians, right? There could be issues we couldn't possibly think about. I mean, there probably are issues we hadn't thought about! So... I'm thinking, why not ask an expert if there's one in town?"





The door opened in complete silence. Lyra paid that feat an amused nod; she hadn't thought hinges could work so quietly.

Gonna' have to ask somepony to take a look at the doors in my house, she mused to herself as she moved through the doorway. Shouldn't be too expensive either, I guess? Eh, like it matters. We have a lot of bits left over after that botched vacation.

That line of thought ended when she moved inside the building. She hadn't been there many times before; she never had any reasons to visit. She was already subscribed to all the magazines she held interest in, and those arrived directly to her mailbox; other materials she very rarely read. Other than music sheets, which were unlikely to be found in a public library.

All in all, her banging steps marked her long overdue return to the Golden Oak library.

"Whooaa," Snowy exhaled. She wandered with unsure steps, randomly striding to one side then to the other, completely under the spell of the dozens and dozens of books laid out in front of her. "Astounding..."

"So many books, eh? Welcome to the modern Equestria! Dead trees and bottles of ink to everypony," Lyra snickered at the windigo's reaction. She was careful to remain natural-looking though - she talked without as much as moving her eyes. She didn't want the owner of the library to think she was crazy. Nopony else either, for that matter... but at that precise moment, the librarian was top priority.

"It's not the amount of material. Old Master used to have a library ten times of this size," Snowy muttered absent-mindedly and sped ahead of her master, sizing up the various bookshelves with hasty twists of her neck. "But it's strange this one isn't under lock and key. In the old times books were prized possessions... a sign of how the chosen towered above the plebs. To have all this wealth available to anypony bumbling in from the street... words fail me."

I'll be so glad once you've stopped living in the middle ages, Lyra rolled her eyes and opted to let that comment go unanswered. She had better things to waste her time with, such as finding the fabled Twilight Sparkle, who should have been running the place. Who was also a smaller celebrity and the chosen student of the Sun Princes... or so the magazine wrote.

"Hello? Anypony home?" Lyra yelled, finally giving up on the silent approach. Modesty was great and everything, but her patience couldn't last long in front of her excitement. She wanted to jump to the 'doing things' part of her day already - waiting for confirmations rapidly began feeling like 'wasting time' in her mind.

She would have been throwing a tantrum were she in the library of anypony other than Celestia's favoured student. Even then it was a real challenge for Lyra to keep her cool.

"So many books without supervision," Snowy inched close to a shelf and bumped her nose against a thick, brown tome. "T... h... e... hhh... is...to... ray..."

The faltering spelling really wasn't much of an achievement, but for a moment, Lyra's mind was catapulted higher than the clouds. It took the windigo more than a dozen seconds to spell out a dozen letters, but that was an undeniable milestone right there.

Lyra needed no other proof. She was on the right path, she was sure of it.

"Oh! Hello there. Sorry, I kind of missed you coming in."

The greeting came from the purple unicorn descending down the stairs, and Lyra recognized her in an instant. That pony was the subject of her search.

"Finally!" Lyra brushed aside all the rules of etiquette, impatience ruling over her mind supreme. "You're that Sparkle, right? I've been looking for you! Listen, you've got a book on windigos? Actually, scratch that. You got a book on spells that cause amnesia?"

That question must have been one of the odder ones, because Twilight stopped in the middle of the stairs, blinking at Lyra with an honest-to-Celestia weirded-out expression.

What, Lyra shifted in discomfort. That wasn't a promising reaction. Isn't this place for like, throwing books at ponies?

"How quaint," Snowy mused aloud. She was still standing at the same shelf, progressing from one book title to the next at a mind-numbingly slow pace. "I thought Master wanted to conceal the true nature of my ability... at least until we were established as beneficial and morally upstanding heroes of sorts."

Oh. Ah, errr... well shoot? Lyra forced her lips into the most bittersweet grin possible. Thinking before you do things, right? When was the last time I promised myself I'd do that, again?

"That's one fairly specific request," Twilight found her voice after the period of dumbstruck silence. "Is there any reason I shouldn't be worried?"

There was nothing threatening in the tone, but it still helped Lyra remember how that very librarian made toasted-pony out of Princess Luna roughly two years ago.

Right. She has the power of the... thingies of harmony or whatever, Lyra bit onto her lip and struggled to make a more encouraging face. Okay girl, get it together! You better stop screwing around now. A few more lines like that and you'll find yourself extra-harmonized!

"Nuh-uh! I'm just, uh, on a vacation... and I'm looking into, er..." she began to explain her situation - slowly, giving almost every word a review before letting them escape her lips. "Well, I'm looking into strange... tales! See, I frequent the Opera and I was kinda' wondering if I could... er... if I could, well, try myself in writing plays. Something new, you know. Something up the proverbial ladder."

"I may have mentioned it before, but Master is unashamedly good at lying to other ponies straight in the face," Snowy remarked as she broke her gaze away from the bookshelf, turning her head slightly upwards.

Oi! Normally I'd take offence to that! But right now I'd rather lie than taste the painbow! Lyra glared at the windigo. She managed to keep her façade throughout her internal rant, a marked improvement in her acting skills over the previous days. Actually, wait! I'm still taking offence to that! I'm the good pony here! Besides, didn't you forget that we're in the same boat?

"I wish Master had lived during my previous time of activity. She really  would have made a great disciple of Hassan," Snowy carried on, only falling silent because she managed to latch onto the higher shelf. She climbed upwards like a blue kitten, balancing on a thin wooden pane that in no way could have supported a real pony's weight.

Wait, what? Did you just commend me on lying well? Stop that! Also, stop breaking the rules of physics as well! ...or at least don't be so obvious about it! You're being super-distracting right now!

Gulping as sneakily as she could, Lyra turned her gaze back to stairs and the librarian on them. A few drops of sweat rolled down the side of her head, and she really, REALLY hoped that getting the ghost out of her vision would ease her efforts at maintaining her focus.

She was never ever meant to fool ponies to begin with. She may have made performances in the Opera, but only as a musician, not an actor. 

I don't need the extra difficulty!

"Oh. So research, huh? That's nice," Twilight hummed and continued her way down the stairs, moving as gracefully as Lyra only wished she could. Stupid stitches. "It's been pretty long since I had to do some proper research. I mean of the 'read books and draw logical conclusions' kind, of course! Princess Celestia really favours giving me field tasks as of late."

Yeah, no wonder. I imagine it's hard putting a death-ray to use in a library, Lyra beamed, hoping she looked like a shining beacon of innocence. Please don't try to prove me wrong, by the way. Think of all your books that would get in the crossfire!

"So, mind control magic... in a drama no less. That's interesting! Writing a new villain, are you?" Twilight mused aloud. She also stopped in the middle of the library and began scratching the side of her head, apparently being at a slight loss in regards to the request. "I wonder which would serve you better... a good history book on famous villains, or something more technical on magic? I've never written anything like plays myself, so it's really hard to decide."

I don't think I like how you compare me to villains, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows.

"Master should pick the latter! I don't like the sound of checking out famous villains," Snowy offered her opinion. "Going by the reactions, my ability must be of the rarer variety. More ponies would know of mind-control if a famous villain did it - so I think we should opt for checking out the lesser ones!"

Oi! Why do you raise an objection that only puts me into an even worse light?!

"Whichever you think would work out better," Lyra laughed nervously. In the end, if Twilight believed a book on villains helped her the most, then she couldn't really complain on the matter. Information was information, no matter where it came from. Talking about information, though... "Actually, could you maybe do a brief run-down on those mind-control magics? I mean, if you have time. I know you're an important pony..."

It was a last moment realization, but Lyra figured that a book might fail getting her closer to what she sought. She had absolutely zero training in the ways of wizardry; she had no powers apart from the telekinesis all unicorns could innately use. She couldn't see herself settling next to a book, diving into that vast, unknown area... and still managing to understand a thing. She couldn't even ask Bon for help, as earth ponies had no ties to magic.

She needed something like a crash-course. In which case she might as well asked from the best.

"You mean, how mind altering magics work?" Twilight paid her visitor a curious look. "Why would you even need that? That's such a rare magic, even trained professionals such as myself would have a hard time thinking up the rules for it. I don't think there has been any attempts at putting it to use in the last thousand years, give or take. Hmm, that reminds me... wasn't the last known user some ancient, evil king? Something with S. S... som, something... Sombra? Eh, whatever. It doesn't matter. Though now that I think about it... a slumbering lich king in his icy domain in the north! Sounds real fitting for a drama indeed, haha!"

The smile was banished from Lyra's face as she refocused her efforts on getting her shivers under control. She couldn't stand the mere idea of an evil overlord in the icy northern tundra.

"Most excellent! How prestigious!" Snowy burst into a triumphant yell. She threw herself into the air and sailed across the library, finishing her leap with an unrealistically graceful landing. She made a perfect tumble and bounced right back up, taking her place at Lyra's side. "Master, isn't that wonderful? Our magic is one of proud history, after all! A king of whom legends whisper... isn't that a distinguished pedigree?"

That's some real selective hearing, right there! Which part of EVIL old king did you miss? Lyra furrowed her eyebrows. She had figured that becoming a hero would be a difficult road to walk, but she never once thought she'd have to worry about an insider saboteur as well.

Faint claps rose Lyra from her internal grumbling. Twilight had moved away from in front her; the librarian was at a nearby drawer and was scanning the shelves one by one, bottom to top. Blocking out Snowy from her mind - both for the sake of preserving her sanity and not to appear as a raving lunatic - , Lyra also made her way there. Her hoofsteps were noticeably louder than those of Twilight; even when she used her right leg to support herself a little, she still had to put way too much weight on the left. Her movements, while normalizing, were still more akin to hobbling than walking; each step a miniature jump, followed up by a miniature landing.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

She was loud enough to get Twilight's attention. The librarian peeked back, eyeing her visitor with thinly veiled curiosity; the noise must have caught her by surprise. She returned to surveying the bookshelf shortly afterwards; an injured unicorn either didn't catch her interest, or she was too well-behaved to react so shamelessly to an obvious injury.

"Sorry about that... I'm kinda' loud," Lyra giggled anxiously once she took her place on the librarian's side. "Skiing accident, hehe."

"Happens to all of us," Twilight nodded emphatically. She closed her eyes and made a toothy grin soon afterwards, running a hoof down her long, indigo mane. "Well, not with me, obviously. I don't ski."

"Lucky you," Lyra brought all her honesty to bear.

"Yeah, well... I don't like snow all that much. It's cold and it sticks to your coat. Then you get muddy and wet... then you bring snow into your house and get everything around you wet as well. All while I could just stay inside and read something good," Twilight broke into something of a rant. Her lines had all the formal qualifications of being a rant - but she sounded so distant and formal that it was hard to believe she had actual strong feelings on the matter.

"Why don't you do that, then?" Lyra raised her eyebrows as she squinted at the other unicorn. "Surely somepony so close to Cel- Princess Celestia could do that much?"

"Yes, well, I'd rather not worsen my shut-in tendencies," Twilight looked away and rubbed the back of her head. Long indigo strands of hair appeared in the air, lazily floating around the two ponies. "That and... well, it's boring to stay inside so long. There's not much to read here. I mean, this is a pretty nice library... it's cosy and everything! But it's also small. Whereas I could spend my life reading through the Canterlot Archives and never actually finish, I don't think there's anything here I haven't read at least once already. Such a shame too. I liked a lot of the books in here... it's a pity I can't experience them again like the first time. Ah, er... how did we get here from snow?"

"Beats me," Lyra shrugged. She got to hear a fascinating piece of personal detail she hadn't asked about; a fairly common occurrence in Ponyville. She was already so used to the fact that she didn't even bat an eye. "You were looking for some book about old villains. To, you know, help my research."

"Ah, right. The mind-wipy stuff. Haaa, I wish you bumped into me in Canterlot! I could probably give you tons of great reference materials," Twilight smacked herself on the head. She packed a vicious punch; her teeth clattered against each other. "SPIKE! Where did you put the Great Encyclopaedia of Historical Figures You Should Never Bring Up? I thought I was clear on us using the decimal system!"

"You could explain to me in your own words as well," Lyra proposed, but joined in the book-hunt anyway. The shelves in front of her were packed full with various tomes; just skimming through a few titles was enough to make her feel all sorts of funny. She definitely was no bookworm.

"I already told you - there isn't much to explain about it. Oh for the love of every quill and inkpot, did this book really just sprout legs and walk away?" Twilight grumbled and threw herself to the floor, inspecting the lowest shelf with utmost devotion. Lyra had all but given up on getting her easy lecture; but Twilight had proven her wrong, exhibiting multitasking skills the musician could only dream of. "As far as mechanics go, that magic is pretty standard. It belongs to the school of transmutation... not that it would mean much to you, huh? To simplify things a great deal, transmutation magic turns things into different things. There is only one firm requirement - one has to understand two points of the altercation. That is the starting composition of the subject matter and the exact structure of the outcome. Understanding the actual process is a bonus, but isn't strictly needed; the magic itself can act as a catalyst and get the transmutation going. Being a good chemist - or well, in our case, psychologist - helps with the spell and lowers the strain on the magician... but isn't a requirement in itself."

"Ah, I see," Lyra tilted her head forward and then pulled it back, doing something that resembled a nod. She really wanted to keep her appearance as a good audience.

Even if she hadn't understood a single word of what she had heard.

"So if I understand correctly - to get my ability working, I would need to have a rough understanding of what memory I'm dealing with?" Snowy butted into the conversation, popping up on the other side of Twilight. "Or rather, Master would have to do so in my stead."

Lyra's heart missed a few beats. It was very rare for Snowy to best her in comprehension and actual logic. So very rare that she couldn't think of a previous occurrence. She figured she should have felt nice about that... that she should have been proud that her windigo was growing up so fast. Only she couldn't. There was no way she could feel fine about her own stupidity.

"So let's see if I got you right. Were I the, er... villain... of this story, I'd need to know what I'm erasing from ponies' heads?" Lyra bounced the question off Twilight anyway. She may not have understood the descriptions, but that didn't prevent her from acting as a transmitter of sorts.

Heh. I'm establishing contact between a ghost and a living pony, she mused on her situation briefly as she waited for Twilight's response. I've become a medium without realizing it!

In all honesty, she wouldn't have thought that being a medium could feel so... mundane, though.

"It only makes sense, doesn't it? The spell would need to have a well-defined tar- targ- taaaa... CHOOO! 'scuse me," Twilight apologized and rubbed her nose with a hoof. She glared at the thick layers of dust sitting on the lowest shelf of books, the disapproval radiating from every inch of her grimace. "Anyway, you'd need a well-defined target, yes. Though 'well defined' is a really badly defined phrase itself, when you think about it."

"How so?" Lyra lowered her head to the floor as well. She hadn't had problems with hearing the librarian before either, but she hoped she could maybe understand better up close. It was a minuscule chance, but it was still worth a shot. "Well defined... isn't that like, a synonym to exact?"

"Not really. Strictly interpreted, it only means 'clearly matching an arbitrary criteria'. So your character couldn't just wave a magic wand and declare 'I make thee forget about all your happy thoughts!'... because, well, happiness as such is pretty vague," Twilight explained. She didn't stop fiddling for a second meanwhile; her magic pulled out a few tomes at random, but her prize eluded her still. "On the other hoof, something like 'I make thee forget everything about thyself' would be perfectly valid... because it targets a certain pony, and that's very much an exact criteria."

"So much for just making ponies forget about their sad memories," Snowy sighed wearily and turned to Lyra. "Looks like Master will have to do a lot of investigation for that plan to work."

"Yep. Sounds like my plans suddenly got really complicated," Lyra mumbled absent-mindedly... and out loud. She then straightened up and pat Twilight on the back, the move eliciting a twitch and a puzzled glare from the librarian. "Hey, Sparkle... uh, thanks. I think I have an idea now, so you can give that book a rest... seems like it doesn't want to be found anyway."

"You sure?" Twilight bounced back onto her hooves. Her next move was sneezing loudly, followed by another - even louder - sneeze; the dust seeped deep into her nose, apparently. "There's a- ACHOO! - really good read you're missing o- ou- oh for the love of, my nose is killing m- AACHO!"

"Yep, sure. You've pretty much told me everything I was curious about anyway," Lyra winked at the dazed librarian and turned around. "Thanks a lot, I owe you one!"

Lyra barely saw anything of the library as she made her way out. All sorts of thoughts filled her head. They refused to join into a cohesive whole, though; they formed a veritable maelstrom instead, leaving her with broken and partial ideas. She had imagined a few ways she could put Snowy to use; but those plans were now declared null and void, leaving her with pretty much nothing.

I need to think of a new approach, Lyra groaned to herself as she hobbled to the door, getting around a small, purplish dragon on her way out. Maybe I was thinking too big. This obviously won't work if I try to help too many ponies at once. I'll have to narrow my focus down... try one? Surely it would be easier to be 'well defined' if I'm only dealing with a singular woe.

That sounded like a plan. She just had to decide where to start. The first attempt would be more of an experiment than a real bout of heroism anyway - that much she had already understood on her own.

It should be something that's really straightforward, she mused as she walked through the doorway, onto the busy street outside. Only, I don't really know of any easy cases. Or well, any cases in general.

She only really knew of Bon's troubles... but she couldn't start with Bon of all ponies. She needed somepony else. Somepony she didn't fear of... and didn't rely on either.

"Master!"

The yell pierced the fog of thoughts surrounding Lyra. She propped her head and snorted angrily, snapping her gaze back to the windigo who had disturbed her so rudely... just as an apple-filled cart and a red stallion passed her, only missing her by a hair's breadth.

"WHOA!" Lyra gasped and took a hasty step backward, the wind of the contraption fuzzing her mane. You again! What, are you-

She didn't finish that thought. The apples on the cart caught her eye, and her lips curled into a mischievous grin.

Bingo.
> 16 - Going to the bank
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You sure about this?" Lyra whispered. She moved slowly and carefully, her concerns and general anxiety hindering her movements. Doubts had trailed her for a long while at that point, since no less than five side-streets ago. "I mean, we could still go to a cheese shop..."

"With all due respect Master, I am absolutely sure that mortgage isn't a milk-based delicacy," Snowy shook her head. 

Lyra made a note of how unusual the windigo looked. The normally subservient creature was suddenly full of determination, going as far as mouthing back at her. That didn't seem like a calculated rebellion however - just a transformation brought by Snowy having finally found a purpose.

"However, should Master doubt the plan itself... it is not too late for a retreat yet," Snowy put an offer forward, trying to offset her earlier, more rigid stance.

"Because these chances are literally just dropping our way," Lyra snorted with a generous amount of eye-rolling. "You've also heard AJ say how her mortgage bothered her. It'd be a sin to waste such a golden opportunity."

"Actually, I'm fairly sure these chances were literally jumping at us. We have never asked anypony for their troubles yet were told anyway," Snowy squinted at her master. She was returning to business as usual; worry tinted her tone and there was a tinge of uneasiness in her gaze. "I don't mean to complain, but that openness... almost feels a little suspicious, Master."

"Pff. Shows what you know," Lyra flashed a smug grin, careful that nopony around her would notice the blink-and-miss grimace. "Of course we would hear complaints. If there's anything ponies love doing, it's complaining. We complain about everything - it's like our national past-time! Leave worrying to when you hear the townsfolk discuss how everything was the best ever."

"Sounds counter-intuitive. However, if Master decrees it to be so then it has to be," Snowy nodded solemnly.

Her head bobbing low as a result of her limping movement, Lyra's nostrils flared wide and her teeth ground against each other. Snowy's unconditional reverence irked her to no ends; the feeling greatly exacerbated by them being in the open street, as she couldn't retort appropriately. Bottling her problems up had never been her greatest asset.

"Anyway, we need to give this a shot. Doesn't matter which case we use as a test run, right?" she whispered once she felt like having had gotten a shred of her composure back. She wasn't at her best yet; her tone was low and uneven, her emotions obviously bleeding into the hues of her speech. "Just why do you fuss so much anyway? You got me to go to the bank, despite my belief of how we should be looking for somepony who knows their stuff about cheese. Don't you want to be vindicated, you-"

The sentence was cut in half; a random passer-by had wandered too close to Lyra and she didn't want to take risks. She pursed her lips up and produced a small, token bow; but the other pony hadn't paid any attention to her and marched on, disappearing from her vicinity the next moment.

Close, she mused as she blew out a lungful of hot air. Way too close. I'm totally going to blow my cover if I keep chattering like this.

"I have no need for vain achievements such as being proven right," Snowy flatly declared. She wasn't looking at her master; her crimson gaze was glued to the large, brown building two intersections down from them. "I only possess purpose as long as I can help Master achieve her goals. That is my sole vindication... and to be honest, I would rather do so without having to prove Master wrong. If possible."

You're totally getting on my nerves, Lyra narrowed her eyes to two thin slits. I wonder what would happen if I told you to quit thinking like that?

Getting out of an earth pony's way as she limped towards the brown building, Lyra put that idea onto her mental shelf. She couldn't readily tell how Snowy would react to such a wish; she might just break the windigo for all she knew. She couldn't afford such a blunder so early. She needed to have something she could show; something to prove how the windigo was safe - and actually desirable - to be around. Anything else risky had to wait.

Well, we'll get there. Eventually, she tried to calm herself. She couldn't help but want the end result right away; not even understanding how that wasn't smart nor possible deterred her impatient mind from the wish. Stay smart, girl; one step at a time. As long as you can keep putting this amnesia-ability towards the cause of the Greater Good, everything should work out fine. Just always clear the most immediate obstacle...

Glancing up at the brown building - the letters BANK now visible on the side - Lyra made a trembling smile. Her mind slowed down, her thoughts retreating as they yielded space to a shapeless mist of anxiety. Snowy's odd behaviour no longer held her interest; she was worried silly even without thinking about that. She was still an intersection away from entering the bank, yet was already breaking into shivers and cold sweat.

Well, here goes nothing. Ah, I mean... positive thoughts! she gulped dryly and giggled. Every piece of her was tingling with nervousness; and that was precisely the sensation she was trying to reign in. I'm sure everything will go just fine! What's the worst that could happen?





The hinges groaned as the heavy piece of wood rotated around them. The door swung open with much gusto; almost too much, in fact. Lyra had only managed to catch it in the very last moment, her magic grinding the door to a halt a mere inch from the wall. She paid the stationary piece of wood a worried glance and sighed under her nose; that was close. She hadn't really cared before, but she definitely did not feel like making a grand entrance this once. She would have preferred to stay as invisible as possible; blend into the background, so to say.

As much as a cyan unicorn could blend into a dominantly dark-brown room anyway.

You better be right on this, she frowned and glanced behind her back. The same magic she had used to stop the door now swung in the other way. The entrance closed with a bang; but not before a translucent creature sneaked its way inside. It must have been her general anxiety, but Lyra was no longer so happy to see the windigo trailing her.

You're a dead-digo if you're making a fool out of me! I mean - okay, I have no idea how I'm going to do that. But I'm pretty sure I'll find a way!

Still, idle threats were not what Lyra had sought in the bank. So she grumbled silently and headed towards a counter, expectant and thoroughly wary of the tough conversation to follow. She didn't have the faintest idea about economics and mortgages and the like; she was wading through hostile waters, no doubt about it. It was only by Snowy's unwavering egging that she had changed her mind and gone to a bank.

I wonder why this struck me as a good idea, Lyra flexed the muscles on her face, growling to herself internally. This is so going to be my fault if we screw up.

The inside of the bank was classy and quiet, like usual. Another pony was talking to a teller at a counter; the conversation low-toned and more akin to whispering. Only the subtle movements of their ears and the bobbing of their heads tipped Lyra off that those two were actually doing something.

The other three counters were empty; bored tellers were waiting for customers in their open-ended cubicles. Intentionally keeping her pace slow to make her limping less pronounced, Lyra eyed the bankers carefully. She then decided on the one she absolutely couldn't recall from before.

While she hadn't been to the bank frequently by any means, she had visited the place before. Quite a few of her jobs had been paid in the form of cheques which she had to cash in afterwards; so she couldn't rule out that some of the ponies working there would recognize her face. If she were going to ask around about mortgages and the whatnot, she would have rather done so with somepony who hadn't talked to her beforehoof. She wanted to avoid anypony who knew that Lyra Heartstrings had nothing to do with the dealings of apple-farmers.

With that having been said, there was still a chance of the tellers recognizing her from a performance... but she had live with that risk.

Ehh, it's not like anypony had recognized me so far, Lyra frowned wryly, enjoying her predicament for the very first time in her life. She forced herself into walking on all fours and made her way to the chosen teller with determined, if a bit wobbly steps. She then waited to be noticed... and waited... and waited some more... and then cleared her throat.

The teller - a yellow pegasus with large, oval glasses and a short, brown-red mane - shuddered as if he underwent a passing neurotic episode. He flared his wings and promptly swatted them against the sides of his cubicle, filling the small room with scraping sounds and torn yellow feathers. The sudden movement also threw his glasses off, the fragile piece of equipment dangling precariously off the tip of his nose.

Whoa, Lyra's eyes widened in an honest-to-Celestia shock. This bloke is even worse off than I am!

"Astounding," Snowy took her usual spot at her master's side. "That pony is even worse off than Master."

Oi! Why is this the ONLY thing we're on the same wavelength with?! Lyra shot a short glance to her side, her smile noticeably faded. And just why are you so smug about it anyway? Seriously, can't you wonder just whose fault THAT is? I used to be a perfectly sane and happy pony before I had bumped into you!

That was what she had wanted to believe anyway.

"Ah- ah! I'm terribly sorry about that, miss," the teller giggled nervously. He adjusted his glasses with a shaky hoof, pushing them back up his muzzle. "I was, uh, so busy with my daily tasks that I had barely noticed you arrive. Ah, er... I'm Lickety Splits, and I appear to be helping you today! So how may I help you?"

You're a terrible liar, Lyra groaned internally. Not a single one of those statements sounded even remotely believable.

"Master must be relieved!" Snowy nodded, her cheery voice full with self-satisfaction. "Compared to the greatness that is Master, this poor fellow stands no chance in the art of deceit. Master's victory is assured!"

You're absolutely terrible at telling truths! Lyra despaired, strictly internally of course. She had also made a quick resolve to give the windigo a prep talk on how they were the heroines and not some evil duo.

Only once she was through with this whole ordeal of hers, though.

"A nice day, mister Splits," she greeted the teller in the most neutral tone she could muster. She was planning on sounding upbeat - but even her fake smile had begun wearing thin at that point. "I am L. H. Strings."

"L. H. Strings..." the teller squinted in the cover of his glasses.

Please don't turn out to be smart all of a sudden, Lyra gulped, fat drops of sweat rolling down the side of her neck. It was a pretty transparent trick, she understood that much; but she respected the authority of the Equestrian Royal Bank, so she didn't want to lie. Not too badly, anyway; not about things she might be called out on. For example, L. H.Strings would pass muster if she had to produce her ID. It was a really minimal risk alias - as long as the teller didn't recognize the pony behind the paper thin guise.

"Sorry - I didn't mean to unnerve you!" the teller laughed anxiously. He must have had some doubts lingering in the back of his conscious, that much was obvious; but he didn't dare act on them, the humiliating beginning of the conversation still fresh in his mind. "So, miss Strings... how may I be of help?"

"Well, aren't you a well-mannered pony! I like that," Lyra cooed and deepened her smile notch.

The compliment had an immediate effect on the teller; the pegasus let up visibly. That, in turn, only served to make Lyra's smile all the more natural. She was on the good track.

"I've come to your establishment because I was... er..."

Her act fell apart a little at that point, her voice trailing off. She was desperately searching for a word; she knew she had remembered it just a few moments ago. It was on the tip of her tongue still...

Argh! Lyra bit onto her lip, as overtly as she could. Come on, girl - say something! Anything! You need to appear confident or he'll start asking questions!

"...because I was hired by one certain... AJ," she carried on. She couldn't remember that apple-farmer's full name, so she just rolled with the nickname she did recall. It wasn't much, but it offered her some breathing room.

Oh sweet Celestia, I really should have prepared better, she chided herself as she scrambled to work out the details of her story. She hadn't gotten very far with that during her walk down the streets.

"Ah, yes. Miss Applejack's one of our more prominent clients," the teller made a small nod. He appeared to have completely cooled down; his answer was impeccably calm and reserved. "It is strange for her to operate via proxy, though. She has preferred seeing to her matters in person before."

"Ah, well... she asked me so she could, uh... attend to her business in the market," Lyra motioned at the random direction she hoped the market was in. "It's not a big deal, so she would rather keep selling her apples unbothered."

The teller frowned and glanced upwards. He mused for a few moments; a few tense moments for which Lyra didn't dare as much as breath.

"Makes sense," the teller finally shrugged and turned back to Lyra.

Heck yea'! Who's the best actress? I'm the best actress! Lyra opened the champagne bottles inside her head. Behold my wits and tremble! I'm the queen of improv!

"So what is the small business that needs to be taken care of?" the teller raised his eyebrows.

That fairly logical question put an end to Lyra's short-lived parade. She had absolutely forgotten to think up what she would ask for.





Uh-oh, Lyra glanced around nervously. Her nerves were ready to crack; the sounds became distant and her sweat felt chilly all of a sudden. Think of something. Quickly! Before he realizes you're just messing with him!

While she hadn't done anything steeper than an inconsequential lie so far, she would have really preferred not tarnishing her own name. Anxiety and creativity were never good friends though; the possible ideas escaped her farther and farther as the seconds lurched on, her brain mired in the bleak possibilities that her failure was to bring. The dark-brown colours around her faded as the whole bank fell into dead silence; only the steady thumping of her own veins reached her.

He knows. He has to know! Which means I'm going to get caught, Lyra made a toothy, mad smile as the only possible conclusion had dawned on her. I haven't even done anything yet, but I'm already caught. Aaah, I knew it - I'm useless at this. Why did I even think this was going to be a good idea? Why hadn't anypony stopped me?

"Miss Strings?" the teller tried reaching out to her. His head was tilted to the side, open curiosity glittering in his green eyes.

He had inadvertently saved the musician with that question. Lyra's focus returned to the world, the vicious cycle inside in her head broken. A shallow wave of relief washed over her; the teller wasn't suspecting a thing. Not yet.

"Business... yes, pretty small..." Lyra mumbled as she squeezed all the air out of her lungs. She affixed her stare to the old desk that had separated her from the teller, her eyes glassy and vacant. She was about to say something monumentally stupid, she was sure of it. That fact had bothered her the most; but even so, she had no choice but go ahead. She couldn't afford to remain silent any longer. "AJ has some problem with... well, cheese..."

"Cheese," the teller raised his left eyebrow and perked his right ear. He didn't say anything else - he simply echoed the singular word that had confused him so much.

"Ah- ah! Master, have our plans changed? I thought Master came here to battle the great evils of institutionalized finance, one pony at a time!" Snowy rushed forward. She leapt over Lyra and landed halfway between her master and the teller, her see-through figure partially obscuring the bank employee.

Try to read the situation, you dumb ghost! Of course I'm trying to do that! I'm struggling right in front of you! Lyra pursed her lips up and wished her servant could just read her mind. It was maddening how she couldn't answer... not even ask for help.

She really, really needed a kind of sign language she could use with the windigo. Too bad she had never had the time - or the forethought - to develop anything such. She could only use her voice to communicate - something which everypony around her could hear as well.

"Ahaha, did I really say cheese? I meant to say... cheap! Yes, the proper word was cheap," Lyra uttered the only word she knew in regards to finance and burst into a nervous laughter. She held a hoof to her neck as she laughed and reared her head back; that moved the ghost into the middle of her gaze. She then winked; two times, no less. That was also the limit of her options; she couldn't do anything more, lest the teller caught notice.

"Ooh, I get it! Master is not familiar with this topic," Snowy slapped herself on the head. A smirk appeared on her ghostly visage, and her tone gained a badly hidden hue of pride. "Well, I suppose I get to show off my expertise! Not a moment too soon either. Ahem, Master, if I may..."

Snowy cleared her throat and threw herself onto the dark-brown wood, her eyes almost level with Lyra's. 

"Master, repeat after me: our client believes the revision of the mortgage contract would be timely."

"You see, the mortgage contract needs uhh... time to be... revised," Lyra forwarded the sentence as properly as she could. It was really hard, acting under stress; especially with words she didn't understand the meaning of.

She ran her tongue down her lips; she found them to be as dry as a sandpit, the skin ready to flake off on a moment's notice. She had no idea why, but that insignificant detail surprised her a great deal. She hadn't talked that much, after all. She felt like asking for a glass of water, but was way too nervous to even think about uttering such a banal request. Her cover had already been falling apart; there was no need to compound the damage.

The teller looked pretty unsold on Snowy's ad-lib line. He scratched his chin, then sighed and repeated the same motion a little higher, near the base of his left ear. Lyra couldn't help but notice how his movements were slow and deliberate; a little too calculatedly so.

He's onto us, she gulped dryly. The dryness annoyed her greatly; she wanted to keep her act up, but the need for water began seeping into every thought of hers. She had no idea at the time, but she was nearing the point where she would break and freak out; her nerves had begun to snap, like the overstrung strings of a musical instrument.

"That is a surprise. I believed Miss Applejack had been satisfied with the terms so far," the teller finally raised his gaze, the cut-crystal panels glittering before his green eyes. "So am I right to understand: your arrival here serves as a kind of notice?"

Lyra wasn't sure how to rank that reply. A wave of light shudder ran down her spine anyway; she was relieved to see the teller having had bought into her paper-thin story. Understanding how that feat had come to pass was purely optional.

"It is only natural our client would prefer a periodic revision of the terms," Snowy mused out loud, her stare unfocused. She was recalling words she had heard very long ago no doubt; days that had been lost to the distant past. "The terms of the contract should reflect on the changing political climate, after all."

He- heavy! I still can't understand a word from that! Lyra blinked at the barrage of unfriendly phrases thrown at her. She held a moment's pause, hoping that Snowy would either repeat or offer an alternative; alas, the windigo only nodded at her master encouragingly. That would have been an awfully kind notion, had Lyra not felt as if she was being prodded into a forced march. There was no retreat, however; so she ran her tongue down her lips, made another note how dry her skin felt, then began talking.

"The climate is, ah, you know... changing, right? So it's only natural that we would reflect on... that," she spoke, absolute in the belief that she had mangled Snowy's overly elaborate message.

"Hmm. I did hear some whispers that our good Major would prefer to have the rain schedules revamped," the teller frowned and adjusted his glasses a tiny bit. "That would indeed carry some significant changes to the rentability of an agricultural enterprise."

Lyra stared vacantly at the yellow pegasus. She couldn't understand how the reply connected to what she had said - though then again, she didn't understand what she had said either.

"Agriculture... hmm. Hmm! Dangerous area. One almost outside of my expertise. Old Master's estate had little in the way of farmlands, but his subjects needed nourishment - so he had rented a few in the south," Snowy mused to herself. She jammed a hoof into the base of her translucent muzzle, lifting her entire head upwards a notch. "I suppose a reasonable answer would go like... for this reason we would need to take a look at the exact scheduling of payments and the late fees, taking the predicted average crop yields and the possible seasonal variations into account."

Reasonable! Lyra scoffed internally at the adjective. She felt so dumb, she could have sworn she had a black hole developing where her brain used to be. She would have been annoyed were the feeling not numbing her at the same time; the absolute lack of ideas had begun calming her. She was an instrument, nothing more; her fate was in the hooves of Snowy and the bank teller. There was no use in getting worked up over something outside her control.

"Indeed. So we should, er... take a look at the schedules. And payments. And uh... the fees," she stuttered, the image of a broken gramophone popping into her mind. "You know, work out the stuff like what the, err, average crop is going to be. Or what the next season's gonna' be like. Details about the... er... stuff she's always on about... those crops? I mean, always those apples!"

Why did that sound so wrong? Did I muck up just now?

With great effort, Lyra subdued her building frown and maintained her indifferent grimace.

I think I mucked up. There's no way he didn't notice how I have no idea what I'm trying to parrot.

"Ha! Apples! Oh yes, do I know about that obsession!" the teller snickered. That turned into an outright giggle; the glasses rocked around and travelled down his muzzle. "She had tried to sell me a few during our last meeting. It's an admirable form of madness, though; it's rare to see such a dedicated pony nowadays."

"Haaa... yes, very dedicated," Lyra nodded absent-mindedly. She was distracted by her success; it came as a true surprise.

"Master is doing most excellent," Snowy winked at the sweating musician. "Now the paperwork is all that's left!"

Lyra cocked her head to the side. An innocent - inconsequential - motion for an outside spectator; but a clear sign to the ghost that had trailed her.

Eh? Paperwork? Say what?

"Now is the time to ask for a review of the actual contract papers," Snowy stressed. She talked hastily; her master couldn't wait too long for the explanations. The chat between Lyra and the teller wasn't exactly fast paced, but it didn't leave space for minutes' long silences either. "If Master still wishes to use my powers to fix that mortgage, that is."

Ah- ah, right. We came to clean that thing up, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and gave her temple a light scratch. Why all this needless and confusing talk, though? Why couldn't I just make everypony forget about it? Why do I need to see the papers first? Maybe Snowy needs them to zero in on the memory...?

There was no use in overthinking, though. She may have been the Master, but then and there, she was only a fake who carried out a windigo's orders. Snowy had the ability to solve the problem; and it was also Snowy who had been savvy enough to keep their act believable.

Wait, what?

As soon as she became consciously aware of it, the realization struck Lyra's head with the gentleness of a hundred-pound mason hammer.

Wasn't this ghost like, completely amnesiac? To the point of not knowing a thing about her own self? Then how does she remember all this nuanced stuff about banks and mortgages and whatnot?

She blinked at the windigo. Curiosity and doubt mixed in her gaze; doubts both about Snowy's story and her own willingness to mistrust the servant who had so readily helped her.

Lyra cut that musing short with a rapid shake of her head. Even if there was an appropriate place for such doubts, the bank was certainly not it.

"Well, now you get my case," she turned her attention back to the teller. "Could I ask for the actual mortgage... thing? I would like to give it a glance. Real quicksie, I promise!"

"Hmm. Well, seeing how you act as Miss Applejack's proxy... I see no reason to deny the request," the yellow pegasus pushed his glasses back to the base of his nose. "However, I need to make sure you understand this is private information. This is for your eyes only - you may not take it with yourself, nor make copies of it."

Lyra cautiously glanced to her side; but all she saw was Snowy making a hearty nod.

"But of course," she smiled as pleasantly as her nerves allowed. "No need to remind me!"

The teller smirked at the perceived professionalism, then backed out of the cubicle.

"Give me a second, then."





Lyra was left alone in the empty cubicle. The yellow pegasus was gone and the office was silent; only the hushed conversations of the nearby clients lingered in the air, but they were going on about their business rather quietly. As far as Lyra cared, that was silence. Deafening silence, in fact.

"We made it," she whispered to herself. Relief washed through her whole being, the raw emotion so intense that she had become disoriented for a moment. "We really did it...!"

"Unless he had tricked us and only went away to alarm the authorities," Snowy mused and began moving. She got up as a cat would have had; her legs resting under her head as her back arching upwards.

That idle comment was enough to plunge Lyra back into the abyss of anxiety; but the windigo carried on before her master could truly succumb to panic.

"I'm confident he didn't play such a vile game, though. He didn't look like the kind."

A hoof pressed firmly against the base of her neck, Lyra exhaled loudly.

Could you start reading the mood already?! Stop scaring me like that, you stupid ghost!

She didn't let a single shred of berating leave her mouth, though. She simply squinted hard at the windigo instead. She wanted to ask the question that had been bothering her; it was more important than the mini heart-attacks she had received.

"How did you fool that bloke so easily? I thought you were amnesiac."

"Ah, well... I suppose I have old Master to thanks for that," Snowy chirped and looked away with a prideful smirk. "I had spent quite the many days and nights listening to the evil workings of finance... both in the forms of monologues and duets with lawyers."

"Really? And you can recall those bouts?" Lyra balked in complete honesty. She had also overheard many discussions between managers, but she couldn't for the love of her life remember a word from those. "Actually, wait, let me rephrase that. You can recall that stuff so clearly that you could fool another pony with it?"

Biting her lip nervously and glancing around in a hurry, Lyra double-checked if anypony could have overheard that. It wasn't a smart thing to do, announcing how she had just fooled a bank employee... while still sitting in the same bank. In the same cubicle too, no less.

Think before you talk!

That was no longer a gentle reminder to herself. She was smacking herself over the head with the biggest piece of club she could imagine. Purely mentally, of course. The method was unlikely to help, but had appeased her need for retribution quite splendidly.

"Despite the spotty nature of my memories, I'm a rather quick learner if I do say so myself," Snowy curled her lips into a smile. She had an unnaturally perfect row of sharp, shark-like teeth. "I can remember most things even after the very first sight."

"Ha! Fancy. You're not doing a splendid job at hanging onto those memories though..." Lyra groaned. She closed her eyes and shifted backwards, sitting down. Momentum dragged her head backwards as well, so she took a momentary rest with her nose pointing at the ceiling. Somepony in the adjacent cubicle was going on about a personal loan; numbers and percentages filled Lyra's ears. None of that found its way to her thoughts, however. She had been preoccupied with more important matters.

Le sigh. Seems I got myself one heck of a complicated ghostie. Seriously, how can you remember everything and be so forgetful at the same time?

That was something she would really need to look into... somewhere down the line.

"Master," Snowy alarmed her, giving the pony just enough time for her to assume a more appropriate stance.

"Miss Strings!"

The teller burst into the scene just as Lyra yanked her head downwards; her mane was still wobbling by the side of her head. She accented the slightly awkward sight with glittering eyes and a warm smile; her fairly ineffective attempt at looking intent. That was her best; she couldn't for the love of her life manage acting professional.

"I have good news," the teller carried on as he settled back into his previous spot, at the other end of the cubicle. His tone hadn't changed an iota; even if he had picked up on Lyra's eccentric behaviour, he sure hadn't given much thought to the suspicion.

"I'm all ears," Lyra perked said parts of her body.

"I have managed to dig up the documents you requested," the teller stated. He turned his head back to the saddlebag on his side and dragged the bag to between him and Lyra.

Whoa, Lyra blinked at how the fabric stretched. That looks heavy. Is he really going to throw all that junk at me?

She had been expecting a single sheet of paper - or something of that magnitude. So it was only natural for her to be surprised when a thick dossier landed in front of her, the many dozen - if not hundreds - of pages making a loud thud as they came to a stop.

Then came an odd, nagging feeling that Lyra was - sadly - familiar with.

I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to do with this, she realized - and promptly became leery of the organized heap of papers.

"This is the complete documentation of the financial service between us and Miss Applejack," the teller put a hoof onto the dossier. He gave it a gentle push, and the blue container slid over to Lyra. "How much time will you require for this review? Should it take over thirty minutes, we have a more private room available."

Lyra opened her mouth, left it hanging open, then closed it without saying anything in-between. She was at a complete loss at what she had been supposed to do with all those papers. The only use she could imagine was starting a small campfire and breaking out some tasty marshmallows - but she was pretty sure that none of those boring bankers would appreciate such display of creativity.

Uuhhh...

She turned her head ever so slightly, sneaking a questioning glance to the windigo.

A little help? Wasn't it you who had asked me to fetch all this?

"Fear not, Master. Open the papers," Snowy poked a hoof through the dossier; she had either forgotten how she was a ghost or was just prodding her master in inventive ways. "We need to make sure this is the contract we are interested in."

Ah-ha. So we're being cautious, smart and... well, maybe professional, Lyra grimaced and flipped the cover of the dossier open. A decidedly angry-looking page greeted her - one that was cramped full with printed letters, the black soup of ink only broken up by a few empty spaces. Those empty spaces were, in turn, filled with scribbles of blue ink instead.

Whoa! Lyra reared her head back. This is like, dense! Very dense!

She wasn't prepared to digest so much at once. She braved the wall of text anyway, and started skimming through the page. She figured the text must have been some sort of a form; she couldn't imagine anypony sitting down and typing that much every single time a new contract was made. Her attention was thusly focused to the blue inked parts instead - those which didn't look part of the boilerplate legalese.

Applejack... Equestrian Royal Bank... Sweet Apple Acres... fixed-interest loan for the amount of...

She stopped reading at that point. She blinked lazily, then rubbed her eyes with a hoof; first the right, then the left. A few green dots danced in front of her, but she ignored them; she needed her gaze back on the paper, pronto.

For the amount of... WHA-HA-HAAAT?

It was no mirage; the digits were real and firmly on the paper. Lyra could understand the number; she could even comprehend what it was representing. Which was part of her problem, admittedly.

There were a lot of zeroes there.

There was simply no way she could believe that a singular pony - especially a farmer! - could get access to such a ridiculous sum.

"Sweet pony princess! This is more than I have ever made in my entire life," she whispered to herself, her amber eyes moving back and forth the numerous round digits. "Scratch that, this is more than I've made in my last dozen lives combined..."

Just what the heck is that apple-farmer doing with all this money? Does she take swimming lessons in gold or what?!

"Is there a problem?"

The question came from the teller; the pegasus was eyeing Lyra with a curious look. He couldn't have heard the faint whispers - but he must have seen how Lyra was talking to herself.

"Ah, er, no problems!" Lyra waved a hoof at the bank employee. "No- nothing at all, haha! I was just, uh..."

"Master should make a quick note on that contract," Snowy advised. "Something that would remind Master to take it with herself."

Lyra burst into a nervous laughter and scratched the back of her neck. It was hard to come up with a reasonable excuse on her own; doubly so when she couldn't make sense of the contradicting orders she had to work with.

Weren't we told we're not allowed to take this with us?

That was only what the bank employee had said, though. And if she had to pick a side, she knew she would choose Snowy; no doubts there.

"I was just, uh, looking at the... formalities," Lyra resumed her statement, looking the teller in the eyes. "I think there's some issue with the... address here."

"That's impossible," the teller gasped and reached for the dossier. "This was triple-checked before signing!"

"Even so, I have a funny feeling about it," Lyra giggled. Her horn lit up; her magic aura grabbed a pencil from the teller's side, the small tool floating to the dossier she had open. "I'm just going to make a non-permanent mark here. Just so, you know, I can remember which part to revise..."

"Ah- wait! You can't just write into that thing!" the teller yelped and reached out in earnest urgency.

He wasn't even halfway there before Lyra had finished scribbling the small note, however.

"Okay! Snowy - do your stuff," Lyra murmured under her nose.

Already prepared, the windigo didn't need a second order.





The sensation wasn't like before. Lyra could remember their games in the morning, with the magazines; Snowy would simply shine brightly and that was all there is to it. A magic trick; a simple sleight of mind.

This once, however, Lyra felt as if she had met a sledgehammer on the business end.

She lost her balance; were she not sitting already, she would  surely have fallen. The loss of balance wasn't the only effect either. A wave of nausea washed over her; she clenched her teeth in reflex, doubtful over the appropriateness of throwing up in a bank. She staggered forward, towards the open dossier...

...and then the illnesses plaguing her were gone. She was still panting and wheezing, yes; her heart was still racing, her breathing was still fast and shallow; but those were all just after-effects, caused by her body having been in a state of alert. She felt a lot better already, and was actually calming down rapidly.

Huh, she put a shaking hoof to her temple. What was this just now? Am I falling sick, or what? Did Snowy make a mistake?

Furrowing her eyebrows and squinting hard, Lyra looked up.

Snowy was fading, her colours returning to their natural intensity; she wasn't doing anything else thought. She lay motionlessly on the panel that separated the cubicle into two.

The teller was also paralysed; he was holding a hoof in the air, mid-way between himself and Lyra. He seemed to be at a loss why he had been doing so, though. He stared back at Lyra with a completely puzzled expression.

"Huh," he finally retracted his hoof, giving the limb a thoughtful stare. "This is... most strange. What... what were we talking about just now?"

"I, er... have no idea?" Lyra giggled nervously.

That was a lie, of course. She had immediately figured out that she had just seen Snowy in effect; but even so, she couldn't really tell just what had happened. She glanced around quickly, looking for something that could clue her in... and amidst her mad dash for help, her gaze wandered over the open dossier in front of her. It looked like a stereotypical legal document... apart from the scribble near the middle of the page.

SHUT UP. TAKE THIS HOME.

I don't think I like the tone I'm hitting with myself, Lyra groaned. It wasn't difficult for her to recognize her own writing. Still, instructions were instructions; and who were she to disobey her own self?

"Ah... I am most sorry about this, Miss Strings. I have no idea what came over me," the teller apologized. He was obviously in discomfort; he scratched the side of his head, his hoof digging wide trenches into this red mane. "I, uh..."

"Don't sweat it," Lyra waved a hoof and laughed the issue away. She slammed the dossier closed and had it float up, right next to her head. "You've already helped me a great deal. I'll look over this... draft and let you know if it fits me."

"Draft?" the teller balked, looking more and more confused by the moment. "We were working on a draft? Pray tell, what was the topic?"

"Ease up, dude," Lyra winked at the confused pegasus. "You've done me a great service today! I'm sure you've also helped at least one other pony too, so... just look forward hearing of me again, hee-hee!"

She turned around and left the cubicle. The thoughts in her head were in stark contrast to her calm exterior; she was half expecting the teller to call the guards. Nothing such came to pass, however. She crossed the bank office undisturbed and walked out the door, a floating dossier and the windigo in tow.

"Whelp!" she took a deep breath once she had stepped outside. "This was... interesting, right, Snowy?"

"Quite unusual indeed."

Forgetting to even breathe, Lyra froze in place. That wasn't the windigo - she knew that voice. She could recognize it anywhere, any time. She turned her head to the right with slow, jittery movements - right towards the green robed pony approaching her.

"You're the first player using my powers to rob a bank," the green robed stranger cackled. "So surely you would agree this warrants a little chat... right?"
> 17 - Going nowhere
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world ground to a screeching halt and then stood still. Birds hovered in mid-air; their feathers bending at the end of their fully extended wings, a rare snapshot of the little animals in flight. Below them dirty brown clouds lingered, covering the unpaved street, pinned to their position by a mysterious force.

At least three dozen figures were stuck in that grimy mist; pegasi, unicorns and regular earth ponies forming the eccentrically colourful mix. Some in pairs of two, others in larger groups; most without any apparent business, just a few possessing focused body language. A particular pony was dragging a larger cart; heavily loaded, judging by the way the axle strained. Most likely a transport of furniture, though it was hard to tell - the cargo was covered by a thick drape, spanning from one side to the other, secured with a long piece of rope. The end of the rope looked very loosely tied; it seemed likely to undo itself and come free after a wilder turn.

Lyra could very rarely study her surroundings in such detail. Even now, her findings were only made possible because all of those ponies were holding perfectly still; a collection of warm, colourful and arguably living statues. Surreal barely began describing the scene, which the lingering clouds of dust didn't help one bit. The tiny particles didn't just flicker in the sunlight; they shone with a constant beam, frozen in place just like everything else.

For some reason, only Lyra retained the freedom to move. She could breathe, she could move her head, she could look around. She would have been relieved, had that not made the whole experience a whole new level of awkward.

"What in Celestia's name..." she gasped and darted her eyes left and right.

"As if Celestia had anything to do with this. As if she could do anything like this, in fact!" the green robed pony to the right giggled dryly. "A word of advice, straight from your game master: don't misattribute my feats."

Never did a moving pony scare Lyra so much. She took a few steps diagonally, retreating from the approaching stranger. Only once she realized who that pony was did she stop.

"You're... you're that freak who gave me Snowy," she gasped and turned to said ghostly servant. The windigo was stuck however, just as all the rest of the world; her pale, see-through features were as if they were etched from a block of ice. That sight filled Lyra with unease renewed, even more so than when she saw the rest of the world getting suspended. The ponies around were flesh-and-blood creatures, after all; a state of being she had been rather familiar with. The windigo, on the other hoof, was a ghost; and Lyra had always believed such supernatural beings were exempt from the rules. To see Snowy get caught in a trap like that, just as easily as everypony else...

That green robed stranger was clearly in a class of its own.

I always knew this hoodlum is trouble!

"Hah - freak, she calls me! So scared that you forgot my name? Seems I've made quite the impression. Do forgive me - I only sought some privacy," the green robed pony shook its head. That made the hood flap wildly, swaying from the left to the right. "I could have returned us to the imaginary concert hall we first met in... but I was worried a sudden change of scenery would unnerve you. Kind of seems I was worried over nothing, though. You ponies are really hard to appease, you know that? Ah well... c'est la vie."

Lyra opened her mouth, but a flash pre-empted her response. The light came from under the other pony's green robes, basking the world in magenta colour; a light so intense that Lyra had to shut her eyes and turn away, lest she went blind. Even so, her thin eyelids didn't offer sufficient protection. She could tell the light had receded mere moments after; she opened her eyes, but still couldn't see a thing. Her pupils were still adjusting to the greatly reduced brightness.

Shapes and colours only returned gradually. She found herself standing at the bottom of a large, and completely deserted concert hall. She was sure she had never played there, but for some reason, she could instinctively recognize the place.

"This is the place I fell to... after the cave in!" the realization struck her. She took a faltering step backward and rotated around, running her gaze across the lacquered boards that made up the floor and walls. "This is where I got Snowy!"

No sign of snow though. Wasn't there an avalanche last time...? Maybe it's absent because this isn't real. Or, eh, something like that. Not that I mind either way! No snow is good snow.

"A musician to the core. Even the sight of this place gets your mind working," the robed pony mused out loud, not even bothering to hide the amusement from its voice. "I do hope you managed to stumble onto my name as well, then."

"The Source," Lyra whispered with thinly veiled terror. She resumed backing away from the green robed freak, increasing the distance between them to roughly twenty steps. "Why are you here?"

"Didn't I just tell you? I've only come to have a chat," the Source cocked its head to the side, the move only betrayed by the shift of the hood. "Tell me - how did it feel, robbing a bank? Oh sorry, that wasn't too nice of me, was it? I really should have asked: how did it feel using my powers of your own volition, for the first time?"





"What? Rob a bank, you say?" Lyra hid her nervousness behind a giggle. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything like that!"

"Were you opening an account, then? I suppose not. But here you are, walking out from a bank, all smug and prideful," the Source double-checked a fact it had most likely already known. "And you have also gained a thick collection of papers, no less. Important papers, as I understand."

Lyra looked lengthily at the ground. Her head hung low and her mane fell over her face; but she didn't mind. She had nothing else to look at anyway. Just like everything else from reality, the dossier hadn't followed her into the dreamland concert hall either, so she couldn't check just what it was about. All she knew was that it was important for some reason; important enough that she had Snowy wipe her memories of it... and maybe a lot more ponies' as well.

Urgh, she gritted her teeth. Could this green robed bastard have a point?

That would have been really embarrassing to admit, however.

"Silence is admission," the Source declared loudly, but without any smug or prideful overtones. It was just a statement, factual and conscience.

"I didn't rob any bank," Lyra bounced her head back to level, throwing her mane into complete disarray. "I was just helping that AJ whoever, nothing more! Heck - this wasn't even my show! It was completely Snowy's!"

"As if that made any difference. The blind will be leading the sightless, no matter which of you is in command!" the Source cackled dryly and started moving, pacing perpendicularly to the other pony. "Spare me your pitiful attempts at blaming my servant. Stick to what really happened - you went in and have succeeded in rendering Applejack's loan null. That's all there is to it, you say?"

"Well, uh... I guess?" Lyra scratched her head. She did kind of recall spotting the name Applejack scribbled onto the first page. "That's still not robbing a bank, though."

"Hah! How enviable such comforting ignorance is!" the Source burst into a short laughter. The raspy voice echoed back and forth around the empty concert hall, masking the clanging sounds of the Source's hoofsteps for many seconds. Then the voice faded away and ultimately disappeared, the silence prompting the hooded pony to resume. "Do you know what happens to cheaters?"

The skin on Lyra's forehead furrowed. She cared none for what that question implied.

Which part of 'I honestly only did this to help somepony else' are you refusing to get?

"I didn't cheat."

"You made a pony happy by making everypony forget about the money she had owed," the Source stopped and turned to the musician. The hood swung to the side and revealed two eyes - a sight that was momentary at best, yet would stick with Lyra for a very long while.

The eyes she saw were certainly not natural. The pupils were divided into two, roughly mixing rings; a violet inner and a crimson outer one. A vibrant combination by any definition, this particular blend had also emitted... something unsettling. It didn't feel natural, somehow; like staring at a porcelain dish, assembled from mismatching parts with incredible haste.

Wha- what's with those eyes! Even Snowy looks less creepy than that! Lyra gasped and retreated, so hastily that she tripped in her leg and fell over.

By all appearances, the Source wasn't really bothered by the growing unease of her guest.

"You may not call it 'robbery' per say; and I can certainly play along with that. Now, I may be a little disappointed that you still lack the stomach to stand up for your own decisions, but I digress," the Source carried on. Its hood fell back to its proper position and cast shadow over the strange pony's face, hiding its eyes again. "Nevertheless, you have cheated. You clearly cheated money from some ponies you don't know, to one you do. Even if tangentially."

Lying on the floor and panting deeply, Lyra felt her strength returning. She raised her left leg and held it in front of her face, blotting the green-robed figure from her vision.

"I only helped AJ..." she squeezed a few words out. Talking proved difficult, but she had an overwhelming urge to get her point across. She would not be called a robber or a cheater over something that had only served to help somepony! Not even by a freaky reality-bending monster. "I've done nothing wrong!"

"Indeed you haven't. If anything, you've certainly helped to narrow the Lorenz-curve a little," the Source paid the struggling musician a curt nod. "However, that changes nothing of the fact: you have achieved that by cheating."

"Cheating, cheating, only just the cheating! You've dragged me all the way back here... just to tell me that?" Lyra groaned in the cover of her hoof. Her head fell back to the floor afterwards, a wry grin on her face.

Sheesh, you may be a supernatural but you're like Bon where it counts. Anything for a good chew out!

"On the contrary. I am not reprimanding you. If anything, this is a commendation! Do follow this path. The powers you've been given - my powers - are meant to be used to change the world, one way or another," the Source declared, its voice gaining power and intensity. Then it took a small pause, and followed in a much more subdued, sinister tone. "I will not allow you to develop delusions, however. I do not demand you feel responsible; but I do demand that you understand the principle."

"Principle," Lyra echoed. Her words were hollow; she had no idea what the hooded pony was on about.

"But of course. It would be a shame for me to tire myself just to have you learning the wrong lessons. You see, to change the world, one always faces resistance. It's only natural. I've given you the ability to power your way through, to shape everything in ways others couldn't even dream of. But all that, in the end, is just cheating," the Source began walking towards Lyra, explaining amidst the soft clangs its horseshoes made. "So make sure you never forget the one, basic truth. The only that matters."

"Ah-ha," Lyra nodded, her eyes glassy and vacant. "And that truth is...?"

The Source's slow march came to a stop approximately ten steps from Lyra. The hooded pony remained standing firmly in place; whatever expression it made was concealed by the green fabric it wore.

"You can always cheat; and more than often, you will only achieve change if you do. However, always remember - every cheat has a price to be paid."

Whoa, Lyra recoiled and broke into a quick shiver. That sounded all kinds of ominous...!

"You are the player, so you decide the ante. It can be small, inconsequential; or it can be large, so large that it will engulf every other thing in your life. My power, this cheat; it's just a possibility. You decide how much you realize of it," the Source boomed. The voice coming from under the hood was dominant, just as dominant as the dual-coloured eyes had been. The tone was remarkably dull, but carried so much power it left no room for Lyra to even ask, much less talk back. "But never - never - for a moment think it's for free. It's always a trade. Tit for tat."

"Haa, stern. And you said you were commending me..." Lyra mumbled under her nose, confident she was silent enough not to be overheard.

"I am. You put up a rather unique start so far. Robbing... ah, sorry, swindling a bank; all just to help one pony, just to test your theories about your servant! How bizarrely, yet delightfully egoistical. Truly commendable," the Source took a bow and simultaneously demonstrated its uncannily keen hearing. "This whole show is only worth a dime if you develop the proper way, however."

"Okay, okay - I give up! I simply can't figure you out," Lyra packed her resignation into a headshake and a long sigh. "Seriously, you're absolutely not helping your cause. Do you want to whip me into order for abusing Snowy, or do you want to praise me for my initiative?"

"If those are my only choices then it's the latter," the Source spat out after a brief moment of deliberation. "I enjoy following you; way more so than the other dullards who continue to do nothing with the potential I have given them. Succeeding in your task and turning the windigo - ah, I'm sorry, Snowy! - into a hero will need you improve an awful lot of things. Betterment does not come freely, however. You will need to cheat ponies again and again. You may even manage to make all of them better off in the end, though. A difficult prospect, but one that can't be ruled out just yet."

Huh. That sounds... oddly reassuring, Lyra perked her left ear. Not sure why, though. It really sounds all that bloke's doing is belittle me.

"You've picked quite the strange goal. Making a hero out of a fearsome ghost... I don't think any other players have tried to achieve this particular outcome so far," the Source lifted a hoof and reached into the cover of its hood, most likely to rub its muzzle. "Lots of promise in this premise. I look forward to seeing how you fare; I truly do. Take that as a compliment - one of the highest order."

Lyra couldn't help herself. Her lips parted as a prideful smile set onto her face. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; she could have sworn her figure grew two sizes right that instant.

"Just make sure you remember the price your plans may come at," the Source tacked on a warning. "As far as I care, you are fully in the know now. I will have no ears for your complaints later."

"Ah... so you take me for a pony who goes home crying if things don't go her way," Lyra snorted; the obvious criticism was a bucket of icy cold water on her sudden enthusiasm.

"That remains to be seen. All the players I pick? They are always wildcards. That's the reason I pick them, in fact. It wouldn't be much of a game if I knew how it played out, right?" the Source cocked its head to the side, its words interwoven with a slow, deep, almost guttural laughter. "You've made me expectant, Heartstrings. I dearly hope you'll continue to remain amusing. Both for your and your little... pet's sake. 'Till the next time, then."

The not-so-subtle threat came so unexpectedly that Lyra was at a lack as to how to respond. The chance she had missed had also proven to be the only; the Source and the deserted concert hall vanished. The dim darkness and the lacquered tiles traded places with open air and the flurry of everyday activity; a change so sudden that it hit Lyra in the nose. She stumbled and blinked blindly, completely lost in the colourful world.

"Master!" came a cry from her left; the urgent tone woven together with barely subdued hues of panic. "Is Master all right?"





The sudden burst of noises and colours was just a little too much. Lyra tried to weather the storm the same way thick rocks brave the sea: she sat still and braced. The most troublesome portion was the next dozen or so seconds, which she endured with glassy eyes and droopy ears. Her mind finally caught up with the pace, bringing her up to speed with the surrounding world. The noises started bearing meaning, the colours finally matched to shapes - which, in turn, finally belonged to objects.

Whoa, Lyra blinked, bringing some relief to her dry, burning eyes. Trippy.

"MASTER!"

Somepony's panicky, she gave her ringing ear a gentle rub. Her calmness struck her as all sorts of strange; if anypony, then it was she who should have been unsettled.

Even so, she was only confused. Deeply and profoundly confused. She had barely understood what that idiot Source had rambled on about; though the gist seemed to be that she was on the right path.

That's not a bad thing, Lyra moved her hoof downwards, rubbing her temple instead of her ear. So why do I feel so conflicted? I'm pretty sure I was celebrating before that idiot foalnapped me.

"MAS-"

"Pipe it down. Geez, you're loud," Lyra snapped at the windigo, and tried to push the ghost away... but her hoof proceeded to go through the creature.

"Apologies, Master!" Snowy moved away as if she had been shoved aside, reacting on the mere notion. "I only saw Master stumble, and I was worried there was a side-effect to my powers. We haven't quite tested them on such scale before..."

Pulling the hoof back to the side of her head, Lyra made a small nod. There was a lot of truth to that. To an outsider, her sudden weakness must have come out of the blue; and they did advance rather quickly with their use of Snowy's ability. Jumping from magazines and self-notes to a whole bank - that was pretty cavalier.

Not like I was planning on doing this, Lyra silently admitted to herself. Her plans had never advanced beyond going to a cheese-shop; were it not for Snowy, they would have never gone near a bank. Thusly reminded of the object, she gave the dossier a glance; the thick collection of papers was resting at her hoof.

Actually... I still don't know what we've just done, Lyra drew her eyebrows upwards. I've apparently robbed a bank, though all I've taken with me are these stupid papers.

"Hey Snowy," she whispered as she put her magic to use, the dossier taking to the air again. "Could you explain what we've just done? I'm feeling out of the loop."

"I can't quite recall everything that happened in there, but I do believe I have a pretty sound theory," Snowy nodded with eager enthusiasm. She chattered freely, not having to worry about being overheard. "Would Master be so kind as to open that dossier? If I am right, the cover page should suffice."

Lyra glanced around quickly and overtly, but only a few ponies were walking down the other side of the street; no-one was peeking over her shoulder. She drew a deep breath and steeled her nerves, then flipped the hard, blue-coloured cover. The page underneath was full of printed text - apart from a few words written in blue ink and a hastily scribbled pencil note.

"Master," Snowy muttered. She was using an incredible range of vocalizations for a ghost who couldn't be heard by more than a select few ponies. "Lots of letters on this page..."

"Ah, right. You're new the whole reading thing," Lyra smacked herself on the head. That was accompanied by the sound of the dossier closing; she had already seen what she had needed to, and the windigo wasn't going to read any of that anyway. "Just a lot of legalese in there. Looks like some sort of contract between Applejack and the bank... involving money."

Loads of money, as it had turned out. Lyra just didn't want to say that aloud. She didn't even want to believe it in the first place.

"That must be the mortgage contract, then!" Snowy threw her hooves into the air jubilantly. "Hurrah! That means Master's plan has been a success!"

Lyra didn't join the windigo in the celebration; she opted to get off her back and limp away instead. Not that Snowy's upbeat mood hadn't infected her; but a pony sitting in the bank's entrance was bound to turn into an attraction on short order.

"Okay Snowy! I've no idea how or why, but we appear to have done some good to somepony," she muttered under her nose, also paying great care that the dossier remained floating next to her head. "You know what that calls for, right?"





"Nope! I'm not mourning anypony," Lyra shooed the waitress away. "I'm as fine as anypony can get! I just enjoy the candlelight, that's all."

"Ah... I see?" the waitress nodded, her almond curls bobbing up and down. "So do I... but a whole dozen of them? In broad daylight?"

"I've got some habits," Lyra grinned at the unwanted question and its sender. She hadn't done a very good job; her expression fell closer to the annoyed sneer she had felt like doing and not the happy-go-lucky grin she had intended to do. "Now would you mind going away, finally? I prefer my cider cold... and in silence."

"But... you were talking to yourself just now," the waitress blinked with a dumbstruck face and a weak smile.

"Then maybe I'm just CRAZY!" Lyra snapped, rising her voice and her hooves into the air.

That did the trick; the waitress shook and flew off like a dry leaf caught in a class-five hurricane. Lyra panted a little - shouting like that hurt her stitches - then settled back to her table, huffed at the poor quality of service, and took a deep gulp of the ice-cold cider. She really had thought the Four Clovers to be better than that. At least there weren't many ponies dining out there, in the open-air section... being in a crowd would have been inconvenient.

Almost as if illustrating her point, a candle next to her began to flicker. The flame put up a short struggle against the invisible force and went out, leaving but a thin trail of smoke behind.

"You do know I'm not going to keep lighting them back," Lyra rolled her eyes. She grabbed another candle from the collection and held it to the smouldering one. The tiny flame licked the charred wick and consumed it whole, sizzling at first but burning silently soon after.

"Sor-ee," Snowy hugged the brown table, crimson eyes looking up at the pony who had just scolded her. "Even though I'm trying to be careful... it's really delicious..."

Lyra placed the candle onto the dossier, back among the others. She watched white wax drop onto the blue cover and mulled over her emotions. She took another mouthful of cider, and decided that she felt mildly disappointed.

"Geez. Stop acting as if I was some always-right overlord! Why don't you fight for your right? Call me out, just this once dammit! Say, but this thing tastes good! I want it! I want it all! ...or something like that. This is our celebration, remember?" she returned to the topic that had already bothered her so many times before. "I couldn't have done this without you. Heck, I wouldn't have known how to do this without you!"

"Aww, Master is being too kind," Snowy giggled. She rose and leaned closer to a candle, her tongue sticking out. The flame danced and flickered - but then endured, though reduced in intensity. "It's common sense that loans are based on contracts. It only made sense to stea... secure the paperwork before we erased everypony's memories about it, right?"

Common sense, she says! Lyra squinted and raised her right eyebrow. It was strange to hear that from the windigo of all things. Doubly so after the windigo had so plainly proven herself to be stupid. Repeatedly.

I really need to brush up on things not related to music, she admitted her defeat, then quickly washed the bittersweet feeling away with some cider. I'm so reading up on stuff... starting tomorrow.

"So what now, Master?" Snowy eyed a different candle. "Do we proceed to the next problem?"

"Nah," Lyra rolled her mug around. The cider sloshed around inside, small waves breaking against each other until they all disappeared under the thin cover of foam. "I think this was good enough for a day. Let's wait and check on AJ tomorrow. I mean, I expect her to be great... but I'd feel better to make sure before we muck around further. Just in case things don't go our way, you know?"

"Ah! Sorry for the presumption, then," Snowy made a hasty bow, apparently forgetting about the candles. "I hadn't taken Master for the cautious type."

Neither did I, Lyra raised both her eyebrows, her forehead furrowing. A dry chuckle left her lips. Gotta' be Bon's doing, no doubt about it. I spend way too much time around that worry-wart.

"Common sense, really," she took those painful words and threw them right back at the ghost. "Besides, what difference will one day make? It's not like we could fix the whole world in one fell swoop. Might as well make sure we're doing it right!"

Snowy hummed and turned away. Her list of objections was as short as her attention span; she had already refocused her gaze onto the small forest of candles.

Lyra took that chance to take another gulp of her icy drink. The beverage sent shivers down her mouth and throat; a numbing experience, especially when coupled with the effects of the alcohol. She didn't normally enjoy getting her mind dulled, but after a day full of nerve-wrecking surprises, she deserved not being on the edge.

"Well said! That was simply brilliant!"

The voice startled Lyra. She hadn't noticed anypony sneaking to - or even near - her table. She jolted and spun around, so surprised that she forgot she had dragged her mug around with her. To her greatest surprise, she found herself facing down a gryphon.

A quite exquisite specimen, at that.

He had a small, almost petite frame, and was covered in green feathers that turned yellow near the head. The feathers looked like something out of this world, though; they sparkled in the daylight, dancing with a pattern and complexity that clearly sought to defy the viewers' senses.

Whoa! Lyra blinked at the bizarre sight. It looks like someone knocked over a jar of glitter-powder or something.

She wasn't amused. Not when the stranger had so rudely invaded the private party with her windigo.

"Sorry that I barged in on you!" the gryphon exclaimed. He mixed the correct words with the worst delivery possible; he was cheerful even amidst his apology, fuelling Lyra's anger even further. "I just saw Nix sitting around, enjoying her collection of candy-sized-fires... so I thought I'd say hi!"

"Yeah, yeah. That's great and everything, but-" Lyra massaged her forehead with a hoof. She was about to send the idiot away when something in her mind tripped the emergency stop. "-wait, what? Nix? Who's that?"

Using her hoof as a cover, she gave Snowy an overt glance; but the windigo appeared to be the same lost, just blinking in confusion.

That very confusion grew to gargantuan proportions when the gryphon turned to said windigo and burst into a loud, excited cheer.

"It's YOU, stoopid! Who else could it be but the one and only Nixie!" he yelled and reached out to Snowy, grabbing the windigo and performing a bear-hug on her. "I haven't seen you for aaaages!"

Lyra was calmer than what she had assumed she would be. She even retained her collected look... apart from the hanging jaw and her mug landing on the grassy ground.

"Nix?" Snowy balked at the name, but otherwise suffered the hug quite peacefully. "What are you talking about, mister? Actually... how do you even see me? Are you a master?"

"Haha! Me, a master? What'd make you think that?" the gryphon cackled. He then proceeded to squeeze the windigo even further; had Snowy had actual ribs and organs, she would have likely begun to suffer. "Aaaw, Nixie! Did you forget about us again? Even your name, this time! You scatterbrain, you!"

So not a master, Lyra concluded. The thoughts came to her with surprisingly little effort. She could have sworn she had been drunk just moments before; but she had felt remarkably sober ever since the gryphon had arrived. A servant, then?

She narrowed her eyes, watching the newcomer with suspicion and a tiny sliver of curiosity.

I wonder what he's capable of, she eyed the gryphon, her gaze wandering all over the glittering feathers. Actually, I wonder if he's friendly! I mean sure, he's acting friendly enough, but that's hardly-

"Origin!"

The stern call cut across the air like a flung bullwhip - and acted like one as well. The gryphon opened his arms so fast that he almost threw Snowy across the table; the poor windigo skidded across the candles and fell down the other side, tumbling to a rather unsightly landing.

Ah, so there's the master, Lyra derived and looked at the newest unexpected guest. She faced down a blue unicorn - and turned away in a hurry. She teetered on the brink of something unforgivable, throwing the fullest of her self-control into keeping her building laughter at bay.

Wha- what's with that goofy cape! she scraped at the table in her misery. She was running out of time to whip herself back to normalcy; she could hear the other pony approach, the hoofsteps ringing out closer and closer. Too bad part of her mind refused to cooperate with the rest of her. Seriously, yellow stars everywhere?! I had more serious pyjamas in the kindergarten...!

"Oh," the newcomer unicorn exclaimed in a very, very reserved tone. "Another servant! That means that you must be..."

"...a master, yep!" Lyra hissed. She was still holding her teeth clenched, but her urge to roll on her back laughing seemed to pass.

"Astounding. Well... that makes us fellow players, then!" the blue unicorn yanked her nose up high. "It must be very strange for you, meeting us in a place like this."

Lyra took a deep breath and decided to try her luck: she turned her head and looked at the caped pony. She smirked; the starry cape was still ridiculous, but no longer provoked her as badly as the first time.

"How so?"

"The Source has told you as well, hasn't it? That all this is supposed to be some kind of a game. Well, get ready to be in awe - as you're talking to the assured victor!" the caped unicorn made a gleeful smirk. "You see, the outcome had been decided ever since the Great and Powerful Trixie had entered!"

Nodding slowly and in her utter disbelief, Lyra glanced at the ground and grabbed her empty mug with her magic.

You know, on a second thought? I'm way too sober for this.





"Snowy," Trixie savoured the name. "What a strange way to call an all-powerful beacon of magic."

"Because 'Nix' would be so much better," Lyra rolled her eyes with a scoff. "That sounds like the noise I make when I hiccup."

"I can't tell why, but I feel as if Master has just insulted me!" Snowy cried out from the background. Her vanity barely ranked up there with her stomach, however; she went back to nibbling on candle-flames right afterwards.

"I doubt she did," Origin grinned, his green-feathered arms patting the windigo on the back. "A proper insult would sound like... 'What beacon of magic? More like beacon of schmagic, that no-good no-brain forget-everything dunce is!' Now THAT's what a proper insult would have sounded like."

Oi! You just went ahead and said something way worse! Lyra threw a piercing stare at the glittering gryphon. You've also phrased it as if I had wanted to say it! You're the worst! You're absolutely the worst!

"No fair blaming me for my occupational hazards," Snowy mumbled. She stuck to looking prim - but snuffed out three candles in one go, stuffing her face like an anxious filly who had been called names. "It's not like I had a choice. If I had forgotten everything then it was because old Master had ordered me to do so."

Huh. Didn't think too deeply about that tidbit, Lyra returned her gaze to her mug. Her own face mirrored back from the still cider; the mug had already been refilled. Ah well - I guess I'm fated to hate the old geezer more and more each day.

"So this windigo causes forgetfulness?" Trixie cocked her head to the side, followed by a thoughtful nod and a slurp of cider. "An intriguing ability! Actually, an ability that sounds quite easy to abuse. Had the Great and Powerful got a servant like that, she would be ruling over Equestria... no, the whole world already! Mwahahaha."

Why is everypony's first thought always going like that?! Lyra dunked her nose into her mug, solely to prevent herself from crying out loud. Seriously, are all the ponies around me just villains waiting to happen? Does absolute power really corrupt so absolutely?

"I can't tell why, but I think Master has just insulted me!" Origin raised a scaly paw and cried out.

"Nah. A proper insult would sound like... 'too bad I've only got a second-rate useless gryphon who... err...'" Snowy trailed off and rubbed the side of her head with a hoof. "What do you actually do, by the way?"

Watching the two servants quarrel like that, Lyra had the odd troubling thought that she hadn't entered a game of epic proportions. It looked closer to a budget circus full of eccentric ghosts.

Origin held up a claw and opened his beak, all ready to answer - but he got a better idea and turned to Trixie instead. 

The move didn't go unnoticed by Lyra.

Don't dare say that without permission, huh?

"We were already told what Nix does - so it's only fair we inform them in return," Trixie gave her consent with an aloof shrug. "Origin is the polar opposite of what you do, windigo."

"So he like, conjures helpful delusions?" Lyra tried a guess at random, then licked the cider-foam from the tip of her nose.

"I make stuff appear out of thin air! I make money! Literally, and as much as you'd like!" Origin made a bow, but interrupted the move. He remained bent halfway towards the ground and mumbled that way. "-is what I'd like to say, but I'm only really a show accessory lately."

"Accessory? How...?" Snowy blinked and asked the question that had also struck her master the same moment. "Aren't you also invisible to most of the populace?"

"That's the point," Origin sighed and straightened himself, pointing a  claw at the sky. "Nopony can see me... so I'm free to conjure all sorts of fireworks and hats and whatnot on the stage."

Lyra and Snowy blinked repeatedly, then turned to each other and locked gazes. The answer had easily left them more dumbfounded than they had been before.

"Say what you will, it's still a more honest living than outright forging money," Trixie waved a mug around, spilling some cider into the air and onto the table as well. "But it's just as good - the crowds love when we do that. No more booing, no more vegetables thrown at poor old Trixie! Just the cheer and the generous amount of donations. All with the help of my fabulous assistant, of course."

Ha - so you've just admitted to being a hack who only abuses her invisible pet? Lyra smirked evilly. Shortly afterwards she realized how she was the very same however, so she stayed silent and dunked her muzzle back into her mug.

"You don't seem too fulfilled with your task," Snowy stared at the sparkling gryphon, her eyes narrow with suspicion.

"A- ah! What? No, am not! I would never!" Origin yelped and waved his front legs like two propellers. "Master is a highly respected stage magician! All her shows are a complete success! Of course I'm happy to partake in something of this calibre! It's a lot better than former Master, who had used me to conjure coins all day and night."

Aaaand now I know where all the 'printing money' idea came from, Lyra slurped up a little cider; it was as easy as sticking her tongue out and pulling it back really quick. Still, props to this Trixie gal. At least she's resisting temptation and is making a honest living. Well... apart from deceiving her audience. So, uh... semi-honest? That's a good thing, I guess?

"It seems a little wasteful," Snowy shook her head. She had apparently decided on being stubborn. "Us servants have powers that may rival the magics of the highest calibre. To use them solely for making fancy shows... I can't help but feel that it's a little inappropriate."

It was Origin's turn to bob his head low and glare with eyes almost closed. He was visibly angered by the remark - but he never got the chance to defend his master, as Trixie had stepped in herself.

"Ha! Isn't that icy tongue of yours pretty sharp, windigo!" she giggled sombrely and leaned forward, until her head was resting on the table. "Yes, the Great and Powerful is aware how much greater and more powerful feats her assistant could yield. However, there were certain events in the past that had made Trixie a little... reluctant in making a profile too big. You see, Trixie likes the living she is making with these shows; especially when compared to slaving away on a rock farm."

"A rock farm?" Snowy blinked at the seemingly non-sequitur notion.

"Think I heard of that one," Lyra pulled her nose out of her mug. The rim left a deep, circular ring in her fur - one that would most likely stay that way until the next shower, thanks to the sugary-sticky cider foam. "Weren't you the one that attracted an Ursa by accident? And then the librarian had to clean up the mess or something."

"Yes, well... it wasn't quite like that," Trixie flinched at the brief recollection, then went as far as dragging her cloak over her head. Whatever the truth was, it was obviously painful to her. "But suffice to say Trixie has suffered quite a lot for that day. So you may understand the Great and Powerful's desire to keep a low profile... especially around this town. Especially so near to that despicable Twilight Sparkle... the one who had caused the whole mess in the first place."

Pretty sure she was the one fixing your mistake, Lyra stuck to her point. She raised an eyebrow, wondering if she should say something; but then wisely kept silent. Lingering resentment and projected anger weren't uncommon in large orchestras either; she had learnt long ago how speaking her mind did not improve on those situations one bit.

"So - errr - what are you going to do?" she cleared her throat and picked a different topic instead. "Hold a few performances and move on, to the next town?"

"Just like a travelling stage magician should, eh? You know Trixie's trade well," Trixie smirked, the grimace almost completely hidden by the cape covering her head. "Come and check out the show if you'd like. The Great and Powerful can promise that you won't leave disappointed!"

Lyra took the offer with some scepticism. She was talking to somepony who had caused a lot of property damage the last time she had been in town, after all. Maybe it was connected, but there was also a rather unhealthy amount of negative rumours surrounding Trixie. Tread carefully, said everything about that unicorn.

On the other hoof, Lyra hadn't really known that magician before. Not personally. And now that they had met face to face, she couldn't find anything seriously wrong with the pony. Other than always referring to herself in third person, that is; but oddball grammar was never a major offence in her book.

And she's also a fellow player, Lyra stressed, her worries focused on the sparkly gryphon. I should really be on good terms with anypony also partaking in the game...

"An intriguing offer," she broke out her most pleasant smile. "Be careful, you Great and Powerful! I may just take you up on it."

"You won't be disappointed," Trixie promised, and pulled the tip of her cape out from her mug.
> 18 - Wealth
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra tore the door of her house open, pretty much unintentionally so. She was really trying to be careful; but the feat wouldn't come to her easily as her finer motor controls kept failing her.

She was sure she hadn't had more than a half dozen ciders. However, owing to her light meals and lack of sleep, the drinks had proven themselves to be extremely efficient. She numbly watched the brown door swing wide open, bang loudly against the wall - then move backwards, grinding to a halt a mere few inches short of bumping into her nose.

Whoa, she gave the surprising result a silent, but all the more confused stare. She was certain she had only applied a little yank. I must've been working out or something. Cool.

Her tribute to the open door over and done with, she pushed the wooden barrier aside and hobbled inside the house.

"Er... Master? Isn't Master forgetting about something?"

Lyra stopped, her head weighed down by gravity and leftover inertia; her mane rushed forward and covered her face. Huffing loudly to clear the hair from her nose and mouth, she turned around and had her magic lift the cider-stained dossier from the dusty street.

"Good ghostie," she commended the windigo. A thought crossed her dimming mind; she had forgotten to check if ponies were in hearing distance. She lamented for a second and decided to just shrug the bothersome worry off. After her visit to the bank and her chat with the Source, very few things could jump the high bar and gain her attention. She watched the dossier float right next to her... then she got a sudden idea and threw the thing down the corridor of her home. The dossier crashed against the wall and broke up, scattering white papers all over the floor.

For reasons beyond her meagre understanding, Lyra found herself snorting and laughing at the scene.

There was something really funny in how those papers flew about.

"Lyra?"

The familiar voice must have had magical properties, for it made Lyra's blood alcohol drop by half in under a second.

Wha-? Bon's home? Wasn't she on some errand? Lyra gawked at the slowly sinking cloud of shuffled bank papers. Oh sweet Celestia! I've made such a mess! Why did I even make such a mess? If Bon sees this...!

She lunged forward with abandon and produced a perfect gallop despite her stitches; a wasted feat, as she was screeching to a halt among the scattered white papers, way before she could have gathered meaningful speed. Panic started setting in once Lyra realized that there were printed papers surrounding her on all sides; she couldn't even imagine how she would gather all of them into an organized pile.

There was no time to overthink things either; banging noises rose from deeper inside the house.

She's coming, Lyra gulped. She had to do something. Anything!

She had to act on the first thing that came to her mind.

She shuffled all the fancy plans away; she simply spun around and used her magic as an oversized, invisible dust pan. The white papers bent and crumpled, some even tearing into two; but they were all in her telekinetic grasp soon enough. She then shoved the whole mess back into the empty dossier. The rigid blue cover resisted; the disorganized ball of papers was a lot thicker than the nicely sorted variant. An ordinary dossier was no match for an anxious Lyra however; with some help of her right hoof, she managed to squeeze the papers back into their place. The dossier bulged as if it was on a fridge-binge... an unusual sight, but an infinitely small problem compared to the overall gain. The corridor became as clean as if nopony had ever scattered the pages of a legal document all over it.

Right on time, the door to Bon's room opened up, and the beige earth pony graced Lyra with her presence.

Close, Lyra made a meek smile in relief. It was one of her lesser inspiring grins; she found it hard to be truly upbeat when her heart was racing still. Starting tomorrow, I'm counting to ten before I do anything rash. And I really mean it this time!

"Oh... so it's really just you," Bon crowned her friend's return with a rather indifferent greeting. "Where've you been? You didn't happen to wander over to the Guard, did you?"

"Hello to you too," Lyra grimaced. She lowered the bulging dossier to the floor - with utmost care, this time. "No, I haven't gotten around to that yet. I was just, uh... walking around town? You know, thinking? Getting some fresh air?"

A tired sigh and the shaking of her head made it clear how disillusioned Bon was with that answer. She didn't berate her friend however - not immediately anyway.

"Fresh air, huh? Must be raining cider then," Bon chuckled wryly. "Do you at least remember which place you were drinking at? I'd hate having to go around the whole town again... everypony would start to think I'm some sort of alcoholic, going from inn to inn like that."

"It's not a sin to enjoy cider every now and then! I clearly learnt my lesson too - do I look that wasted to you? Of course I don't," Lyra snorted and sneered. "So why do you even bring that up now? As if I would drink on tabs ever again!"

True enough, that event had been an embarrassment Lyra figured she would never live down. She kept hoping Bon would grow tired of the story and mention it less over time. A musician celebrating her first big performance with a long night and without any money on her... poor Bon had a long day afterwards, sorting all the tabs out.

The same Bon was now standing in front of her though, looking at her with the same judgemental eyes, pointing a hoof at her side in silence.

"What," Lyra blinked in confusion, then traced to where her friend was pointing. She turned her head... and realized how bare her sides looked.

No saddlebags there.

Lyra closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and pushed her right hoof against her forehead. Hard.

Not again!

"Yep. Thought so," Bon mimicked the notion and rubbed the side of her head.

"But I was so sure that I paid," Lyra mumbled, her face completely covered by her two hooves. She didn't want anypony to see her shame, not even her closest friend. "The waitress had no objections whatsoever either! She didn't even ask who I was! How could she even put it on my tab without knowing my name at least?"

"Ah, did Master forget? Our fancy dinner was paid by the other duo," Snowy joined in the conversation, approaching her Master from behind and then sitting right next to her. "That other servant, Origin had demonstrated his ability to conjure objects... by producing a few coins. Then the Great and Powerful master of his had paid with those."

Inching her hooves away from her face, Lyra sneaked a glance to her ghostly servant.

Shoot, she stared blankly at the windigo. She's right. Trixie paid... strictly as part of her demonstration. How did I even forget?

"My drinks were... well... on the house," she announced aloud. Her voice was shaky and distant; she was a little drunk, moderately confused as to why she couldn't recall minute details, and thus very frustrated with herself. "See, I've bumped into a showmare... who goes by the name Trixie. She invited me for a drink. So don't worry, everything is okay!"

"Trixie!" Bon huffed. The name didn't carry positive connotations for her; she grimaced and drew her ears back to her neck, her discomfort palpable. "You were drinking together with the freak who brought an Ursa onto us? Are you out of your mind?!"

"Ah, well... yeah, that kinda' happened," Lyra stammered. She felt all sorts of awkward; she giggled and looked away, as if not looking at Bon would have lessened the tension in the air. "Look, I didn't recognize her at first, all right? And didn't all that happen so very long ago anyway? She's almost pleasant to talk to now."

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that. Lyra, you could have a pleasant chat with Discord after a mug or two!" Bon screeched. She pushed a hoof against her temple - perhaps trying to make sure her head didn't explode. "Seriously! Why can't you just behave like an adult? Just for once? Just for a few moments? Why do you have to wind up in all these quirky situations all the time?"

She would never admit out of principle, but Lyra felt that one resonating with her. She kept bumbling into the strangest, almost slapstick-like scenes with an alarming regularity. Nothing that had caused her big problems so far; so she had learnt to live with the fact and treat it as a permanent aspect of her life.

That conviction didn't seem to matter much to Bon though, who never gave up on her pursuit of sanity. That duality of theirs had always been a reliable source of conflicts.

"Well, what would you have me do? Scream at her? Make a scene?" Lyra growled angrily. She was frustrated as she had no idea what behaviour was expected of her; she really thought Bon would let the issue slide. "That would surely make me look like a proper adult, right?"

"I didn't mean that!" Bon took a defiant stand and slammed her hoof onto the ground. "I was thinking more like, uh... I don't know! Anything but enjoying a drink with that no-gooder!"

"That hardly sounds fun. Seriously, every pony deserves a good drink in a while..." Lyra moaned. She then tried to rub an itching eye, but her sense of balance gave out on her; she tripped and began listing to the side, staggering until she was leaning against the closest wall.

Och, she finally gave the itching eyelid a rub, uncaring of how ridiculous she must have looked. I'm tired. Sooo tired...

"Seems like you've had your fun all right," Bon snickered disapprovingly. "Well, I don't want to ruin your mood too much... so I think I'll just leave you be."

"I'm not drunk," Lyra looked up at her friend and reiterated her previous point. Her bloodshot eyes and unsteady stand didn't help her cause too much, however. "I'm just tired."

"Then go and get some rest," Bon motioned at the door to Lyra's room. "There's something I want to have a talk about, when I come back."

"I'm here, you're here. Just spit it out," Lyra grinned and raised her eyebrow in anticipation. A short-lived notion, that was; her tiredness soon got the better of her. Her head fell to the side and knocked against the wall. A funny, metallic smell tickled her nose; the one she had always thought smelling just before she would hit her head into something.

So tired, she grimaced and clenched her teeth, fighting a building yawn.

"Yeah, you look in great shape for a proper conversation," Bon shook her head with a sigh. "I don't really have time right now anyway... I can't be late from this meeting. So just go ahead and sleep, you party animal!"

You're still completely misunderstanding this whole thing, Lyra cracked an eye open. Bon was but a beige smear through her unfocused gaze; but she could still tell her friend was looking at her in utter disappointment. That made her want to speak up, to clear her name... such actions would have taken effort, however. And all the batteries in Lyra were empty. She felt like a pony who had been fresh out of a tumble drier; one who had been then cleared of wrinkles with the helpful aid of a steam roller.

It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

Ah well. I suppose it can wait until I've gotten my beauty sleep, Lyra opened her mouth wide and sucked in some cold air. It's not like I couldn't clear this up later. Bon will understand. She always does.

"Deal," she nodded drowsily. She had to catch herself with haste; a little less attention and she would have crashed to the floor. "Talk to you later, you... uh... serious pony, you."





"Was it really all right, letting Master's friend depart on a note like that?" Snowy fiddled anxiously. Her gaze entered a state of constant flux, alternating between her master and the closed door every few seconds. "Master hasn't done anything wrong. Quite on the contrary - it would seem we have succeeded in helping the pony from the market."

"That pony's got a name too, Snowy. And that name is Applejack," Lyra mumbled. Her voice was closer to being weak rumbling than intelligible speech; her nose was dug into the wrinkles of a blanket, her fuzzy mane covering the rest of her muzzle. Her head was on her bed, but the rest of her was resting on the floor, sprawled out like a dropped rag. "By the way... talking about that AJ. You do remember her complaining about something the other day, right, Snowy? It's really funny, but I... I can't for the love of my life remember what she was on about."

"Neither do I. A strangely specific loss of memory, isn't it?" Snowy turned to her master. Two of her legs were dangling in the air - the picture she was standing on was a little too thin for a proper stance. "A little too specific, perhaps."

"Bleh, stop beating around the bush already. It was you... well, us. That's why we took the contract from the bank I guess," Lyra smirked. Her eyes were open, even if just barely; still, she couldn't make out the texture of her blanket. All she saw was endless white and spots of grey, the shadows cast by the wrinkles in the fabric. "Urgh. Feels like I'd pass out any moment..."

"Then Master should definitely go to sleep," Snowy hopped down from the picture. She arrived in the centre of Lyra's bed; the landing looked forceful, yet didn't as much as shift the blanket. "I shall watch over Master in the meantime."

"Watch over me?" Lyra strained her eyes, trying to get the windigo into a clearer focus. "What for?"

"Last night, Master's sleep was hardly peaceful. Master had afterwards vowed not to sleep for twelve years," Snowy crouched down, her crimson eyes investigating the pony for any obvious signs of problems. "I figure Master must has been alarmed by something. So surely me standing guard would alleviate the issue?"

The tip of her lips curling to a wry grin beneath the cover of her cyan mane, Lyra paid the ghost a silent moment of admiration. She was touched; too touched for her distaste against subservience to kick in, even.

"Yeah. I'm sure it'll help," she giggled and pushed herself up. "But first..."

She turned to the left and focused, straining herself until the veins in her face bulged. Her efforts were not in vain, however; the diary from the nearby drawer flung itself at her. It also proceeded to smack her in the head, but she was too tired for a proper tantrum; she sighed and got the book laid onto the bed.

Snowy eyed the whole scene with open confusion. Her eyes were wide and her ears were perked all the way up. She even kept cocking her head from one side to the other, breaking her silence once her curiosity overwhelmed her sense of etiquette.

"Uh, Master, if I may inquire..." she wrinkled her eyebrows and squinted hard. "Is it really the best time to add another entry? Master hardly seems to be in the condition for writing literature."

"Haha! Sure am not," Lyra laughed dryly and brought the quill and ink-pot over as well. She then proceeded to stare at them lengthily... then moved her gaze to the white blanket on her bed... then she placed the quill, the ink and the diary onto the floor and huddled down next to them. "I'm not adding a whole lot... I just want to mark down that we've helped AJ. I'm afraid I'll forget completely if I don't write it down. Kinda like a last chance, you see?"

"I doubt my abilities would have such lingering side-effects," Snowy scratched her head and looked away. "With that being said, I'm not really sure either."

"Then I've got news for you!" Lyra chuckled and dipped the quill into the black ink. "We ponies can forget quite well on our own, too. So I better mark this down now - or maybe nopony will know how we've started helping strangers."





The air rushing out of her lungs with the tell-tale sounds of a moan, Lyra arrived at a painful discovery: that alarm clocks were not the worst way to start a morning.

While annoying, the mechanical contraptions were no match for throbbing headaches.

"Aurgh," she groaned through her clenched teeth. A light was shining into her eyes, visible even through her closed eyelids; she blotted it out with a hoof. She rose another hoof afterwards, and pushed that one against her head - half expecting to feel her very skull growing and ebbing in size.

"Good morning, Master!" Snowy chirped from somewhere nearby. "Did Master have a good sleep?"

"Bleargh," Lyra answered the question with unparalleled brevity. She ran her tongue around her mouth; but everything in there tasted metallic and weird... and dry as the scorching southern deserts. Her lips and tongue were so dry they actually hurt. A dull, throbbing pain, just like the one occupying her head - and virtually everything else in her body.

"Oh Celestia, do I hurt all over."

"Ah, er, well... maybe Master could sleep some more, then?"

Lyra let her hooves drop back onto the bed, the move revealing the smirk she had on her face. With herculean efforts, she battled the intense light and cracked an eye open. The sun was shining onto her through the window of her room. The light pained her eyes and reinforced her headache. The thick curtains could have helped with that, were they not folded at the very ends of the window.

Guess I forgot about those when I crashed to bed, she looked away, her eyes watering. Blinking the tears away and working the sticky gears in her mind, she tried to recompose herself. Ugh... what was I up to, again?

Memories filtered back to her. She had gone to a bank and then had a few drinks; then she had come home and gone straight to sleep. And... there may have been a few talky scenes in between those as well. To her, however, that recollection only carried one conclusion: the sun shining into her eyes meant that she had either slept very little, or way too much.

"How long... yaaah!" she asked, only for a well-placed yawn to break her sentence into two. "How long did I sleep?"

"For the better part of yesterday, all night and about half of today," Snowy popped into her vision, a cheerful grin occupying the windigo's face.

That grin quickly traded places with silent confusion, however. Lyra began flailing her legs all of a sudden, as if the bedbugs had started chewing on her lazy behind. The random kicks weren't really effective; the most immediate result was her blanket getting kicked into the air. She only scampered onto her hooves a few seconds and a sore right shoulder later.

"Sweet Celestia! All day! And the night, too! I overslept! Heck, not even that - I, like, überoverslept!" Lyra mashed out words in unbridled panic. She slowed down for a moment - just so she could berate the windigo that was still standing at her side. "You! Why didn't you wake me up sooner? Don't you know we have a lot to do?!"

"I was indeed aware of Master's plans about helping the world... but Master was sleeping so deep she didn't even snore this time," Snowy shirked away from Lyra's fiery gaze, pulling her head lower and shrinking her figure in general. "Master seemed so ill yesterday, I figured a little rest wouldn't hurt."

Lyra's mouth was hanging open; she was in the middle of launching into another round of complaints. She was also waking up in the meantime however. She wasn't quite at her best just yet, but she already realized how the windigo had been looking out for her own good. She clenched her jaws and rolled her head around, a few bones crackling quietly in her neck.

I did have a pretty peaceful sleep last night, I suppose...

Especially when compared to the nightmare from the night before.

Ugh. Pretty sure I would've had another nightmare had I dreamt, she rubbed the back of her head as another loud yawn escaped her mouth. Maybe I'm lucky I was so tired, I guess... heh! Isn't that a funny thing to say.

"Besides, Master's friend had also asked me to allow Master to sleep undisturbed," Snowy carried on. Her voice ran out of power though; she was almost pleading at this point. She had also tried to distance herself from her master's inevitable anger, and pulled into the farthest corner of Lyra's bed. "I thought it was a sensible request, so I figured I could have acted on it... I am very sorry if this was a mistake, and I am prepared to face whatever-"

Lyra made a brief grimace at the reaction. She wasn't sleepy enough to miss the hasty retreat. She was a little angry at having overslept, yes; but at the same time...

...she did act on her own for this once. I suppose that's something, right? I shouldn't berate her either... otherwise she'll just learn to never take the initiative. Sweet Equestria, foalsitting a ghost is a full-time job...

"It's fine," she showed her lack of hostility with a wave of her hoof. "You've actually done well, so quit fretting. So you say Bon had also came in?"

I really shouldn't be surprised, she bit onto her lip, her teeth snapping some of the dry skin off. Of course she'd check on me! I've been in here for almost a day. Foalsitting me may be a full-time job as well, huh?

"Yes, Master's frie- I mean, Miss Bon was here," Snowy nodded repeatedly, her head almost bouncing up and down like a cheap rubber toy's. "She didn't just come in either; she had actually spent a fair amount of time next to master."

Lyra froze solid at the news; her sole movement was giving the windigo a questioning - and quite disbelieving - stare.

"Say what?"

"Miss Bon came in soon after the sun had set," Snowy nudged her nose at the closed door of the room. "She had briefly checked on Master; then declared she knew I was around and asked me not to disturb. She then took a place next to Master and sat silently for a long while. I believe she was also guarding Master's peace."

Lyra swivelled her head to the side. She was careful - so careful as if an afterimage of Bon was still sitting there, ready to scold her.

"Whoa," was all she could say.

"I thought it was a nice gesture," Snowy continued, her voice drifting away just as her thoughts had begun wandering off. "Still, I'd have to deduct a few points for succumbing to sleep on guard duty. Though it can't be helped, I suppose? She's a living pony as well, after all. Living ponies need their rest."

"Bon slept in here?" Lyra asked absentmindedly, her eyes scanning the thin air next to her bed still. It was an absurd idea, but she could have sworn she felt the piercing stare of Bon's eyes on her.

"That she did," Snowy stood up and moved around her master, until they wound up looking at each other again. "For a pretty long while, too. She had only left in the morning... but not before calling my dedication into question."

"Ah, so she... wait, she did what? Argh! Bon, I really thought you would know better," Lyra buried her face into her hooves. She wasn't shaken too deeply; exasperation would have described her feelings the closest. "I guess I need to talk to her again, go over this thing one more time. What did she say?"

Gently rubbing the skin on her forehead with her hooves, Lyra was already planning out her next meeting with Bon; she didn't even wait for Snowy to answer. 

I could bank on her sense of duty, she mused to herself. She would voice her disappointment, that was a given; but she also understood how she couldn't do so too rashly either. She's always about doing things the right way. Surely being prejudiced doesn't fit well with that!

"She didn't say much. Just things I really ought to know by my own self as well," Snowy shrugged. For somepony whose allegiance had been called into question, she appeared remarkably nonchalant about the whole issue. "That I should keep an eye on Master all times and keep Master out of trouble. And also that should anything happen to Master, I will certainly find my, quote-unquote, 'invisible frozen butt kicked all the way back to that fricking mountain'. Which I found quite strange, considering that I hail from the soulstone amulet and not some mountain."

Lyra peeked out from the cover of her hooves, completely dumbstruck. 

"As if idle threats could motivate me!" Snowy glared at the ground, her eyes finally burning with emotion. "No, that's not even it. As if I would err in the first place! Yes, that's what I truly found infuriating. To call my dedication into question! Me, who solely exists for the very purpose of servitude!"

Putting her hooves back onto the blanket and fiddling around until she sat comfortably, Lyra hung her head back and mulled over the issue. She felt incredibly relieved that Bon was, in fact, being reasonable and had only tried to protect her. There was even a tinge of shame mixing into her thoughts; she should have known better than to immediately accept blame aimed at Bon.

On the other hoof, she could also sympathize with the windigo. Even if Bon had no ill intents behind her words, asking Snowy to get her act together would obviously not sit well with the servant.

I think my life has grown more complicated than I had ever realized, Lyra squeezed her eyes closed and sighed - a long and very tired sigh broke free of her. How come the Source always blabbered about nonsense like cheating, but never mentioned anything about stuff like this? Game-master, my shiny rear end - more like a lousy pony who's itching to show off.

"I don't think Bon meant anything bad," she tried to keep the damage under control. "Do forgive her - she just keeps worrying too much, in general. Especially about me."

"That's a reassuring notion. However, it's still not nice, telling me to perform my service better - when it is she who fell asleep while standing guard," Snowy scoffed and rolled her eyes. Or something along those lines. Solid crimson eyes were hard to deduce.

Cracking an eye open, Lyra gave the blue ghost an overt glance. It wasn't reasonable of her to expect Snowy to just forgive Bon, right there and then. Not unless she ordered the windigo to do so. Being the loyal servant she was, Snowy would have most likely complied - perhaps even gone as far as to eat her own words in the process - , but Lyra didn't fancy that idea one bit.

To her, Snowy wasn't just some magically bound slave; and friends couldn't be ordered to change their opinions. She had to win this one by diplomacy, or she risked digging the whole servant-liege hole deeper.

"I'll talk to her," Lyra rubbed her neck, hoping that fiddling with her hoof would distract her from the sheer awkwardness that she felt. "I can't promise she'll change overnight, though. So could I also ask you to, err... put up with her? For a while."

"But of course," Snowy bowed until her nose swept the ground. "I shall do anything Master asks."

Not quite what I had in mind, Lyra grimaced and looked away. There were few things to look at; the sparse decoration of her room didn't offer ample opportunities for the hungry eye. Two drawers occupied a corner, almost in front of her bed. And there was a huge lyre - the one she had used for practice, whenever Bon was in better mood... or wasn't at home. Right now, however, she didn't feel like touching the instrument.

She was too preoccupied with the situation about Bon and Snowy to lose herself in music. The previous day also weighed on her - she wanted to see what happened to Applejack. She wasn't expecting a great success right off the bat, but she had to check on the farmmare at the very least. She owed that much.

Every cheat has a price.

The words came from nowhere and kept echoing in Lyra's head. She wasn't distraught by them; she felt herself grow more resolute about surveying the results, if anything.

I've mucked around with her life, haven't I? So it's my responsibility to make sure everything goes as I imagined, Lyra bit onto her lip. The realization of her new responsibility didn't elicit unanimous approval from her; she threw herself back onto the bed and pounded her head with her hooves.

Argh! Why did I even take all this onto my back? Did I need to make my life so complicated?! I used to live so simply! I was happy! I was-

A gurgling sound interrupted her. Both she and her ghostly servant proceeded to look at each other, both faces mirroring the other's confusion - until the sound repeated, this time so loudly that Lyra felt her ribs shake.

The second wave had also come with a sensation she couldn't mistake for anything else either.

"I'm hungry," she gulped and turned her head around, her noisy stomach in the middle of her gaze.





"Is Master certain those things go well together?" Snowy recoiled. The mere explanation of the so-called 'breakfast' had proven too much for her nerves - and now that she was facing the real deal, her courage had completely evaporated. "That combination looks... strange..."

"Nonsense," Lyra dismissed the worries without missing a beat. "Everypony knows a balanced and complete breakfast is the best way to start a day. Well - it doesn't get any more complete than this!"

"That is most certainly true," Snowy gulped, then backed into the farthest corner of the stove. "I also understand that I have little expertise in these matters, but... I just know those things aren't compatible with each other!"

"Hah! Shows what you know! They were all in the fridge, so they are all meant to be eaten at some point," Lyra burst into a proud laughter. She grabbed her plate and moved it forward - leaving the windigo with just enough time to hop off the stove, dart past the pony and scurry to the highest available point. 

Snowy crawled upwards with an uncanny, cat-like display of skills; she didn't stop until she reached the top of the open door.

"Sorry Master, but I just... I just can't accept this!" she cried out. She spun around with a grace unknown to mere mortals; she turned around in one fluid motion while also balancing on the thin top edge of the kitchen door. "Green, brown and white... I may be ignorant in the customs of this era, but those colours should never be presented together!"

The tenacious refusal taking her by surprise, Lyra pulled the plate back to her. She eyed the food on the dish - then shrugged and took a bite. The taste was like nothing she had ever had before, but wasn't bad enough to make her quit. Meals were quite often just necessary chores to her; a waste of time she had to endure between actives she earnestly enjoyed. Now, some foods she did find really exquisite; but those were the exceptions rather than the rules.

On the upside, she could follow that logic and eat just about anything in turn. And quite often she had done so as well, freaking out Bon to no end. 

Now I've managed to creep out a ghost as well, she mused as she chewed on her mostly sweet breakfast. I guess Bon was right, huh? I should spend some time reading up real recipes, right? So not feeling like it, though...

"I still don't get what's wrong with this tho'," she mused with her mouth half-full, her amber eyes resting on the remainder of the food. "Bread is pretty usual for breakfast."

"Bread I can understand," Snowy grimaced and pointed a hoof at the plate. "But what's with that dressing? How did Master even arrive to such untold depths of culinary terrorism?"

Despite her better wishes, Lyra flinched at the remark.

Of all the ways to independence, she had to pick insulting me!

"Culinary what now? All I did was think practically," she huffed and turned away indignantly. She grabbed the bread and shook it around, a reaction that only made sense with her anger taken into mind. Pieces of brown cream and green spheres flew around, landing in various points of the kitchen; but Lyra kept waving the bread for all the length of her short outburst. "See, I realized that if I put the hazelnut cream onto the bread, these peas won't be able to roll away! Makes them really easy to eat. So what's wrong with this, really?"

Demonstrating her point in the easiest way possible, Lyra opened her mouth and took another huge bite out of the bread.

A little higher up and a few steps away, Snowy shivered atop the door, wondering just when her master would finish with that madness and leave to check on Applejack already.





"Whoaa! How busy!" Snowy chirped. Her ghostly form could barely contain her excitement; she was hopping around without much sense, her head constantly swaying in the wildest directions.

Lyra didn't mind any of that. She had no problems with the windigo frolicking around; a little fun never hurt anypony before. She had considerable difficulties in keeping up anyway. Unlike Snowy, who could blitz through the densest crowds without the slightest care, Lyra had to pay a lot of attention to the other ponies around her. 

She remembered what the empty market had been like. In hindsight, while that made for a dismal experience, she kind of enjoyed not having to dodge a pony at every second step.

Unlike during their previous visit, the market now gave the duo a true demonstration of what passed for a fair. The stalls were packed to their limit. Hoards of exotic fruits battled the cheap local goods for  shiny golden coins; veritable armies staring down at each other, eager to acquire their coveted objectives. The battle was further enhanced by the yells of the various vendors; the generals who put their trust into their carefully assembled armies, now giving their all to attract at least one more customer.

For a pony with keen hearing, all that yelling was pretty irritating. Lyra could have navigated the whole mess blindfolded; solely relying on the obnoxiously loud shouts would have sufficed.

I now remember why I don't come here often, she grumbled to herself. Her teeth clattering against each other, she took a hasty step - almost a real dodge - to the right; even so, an earth pony's saddlebags scraped along her left.

"Ack! Oi! You! Watch where you're going with those!" she yelled after the stranger, but the pony paid no heed. He either had no ears to her complaints, or Lyra's voice had been drowned out by the surrounding noise. Neither served to improve her mood.

I'll make a point of not helping you when my plan gets going at full steam! she fumed to herself. There was no time for overplayed rage though; Snowy had already gotten so far ahead that her blue figure was barely visible in the swirling crowd. Swallowing the rest of her complaint, Lyra turned her head back in direction and resumed her slow-paced struggle forward. She would rather not have an overly excited windigo bumble around without supervision.

Who knows what odd ideas the oddball might pick up along the way...

Fate demonstrated its keen sense of irony right away; a pegasus with a huge box showed up in her way. There was no way around, as the box was too wide and almost clipped the stalls on both ends; so Lyra had to backtrack a few steps. She backed into a stall, just so the box-carrier would have enough space to pass. A shopkeep selling silverware approached her, mistaking her for a wayward customer; but she paid the vendor little to no actual attention. She was busy tip-toeing in the same spot, eager to get going as soon as the boxy-pegasus had passed. The huge box moved ever so slowly however; so slow that at times Lyra wondered if the pegasus underneath was about to go into reverse or something.

I swear you're moving so slow on purpose! Just to annoy me!

After what felt like a few millennia had passed, the box and its pegasus finally passed her. Lyra needed no further encouragement; she blasted out of the stall as if her hind parts were on fire. She darted down the narrow passage the earlier courier had left. Big boxes demand - and easily receive - large free space, and a lot of the ponies who had shuffled out of the way hadn't resumed their walks just yet. Whatever they were busy with, Lyra didn't care; she just hoped they wouldn't be back in her way too soon. She enjoyed the sudden ease of movement. She was only walking slightly faster, but even that snail-like pace made it feel as if she was doing record laps in the Equestrian Games. The miracle didn't last very long though. The crowd was back to its usual density soon after, forcing her return to the routine of stopping and letting other ponies pass at almost every step.

I wish somepony had the idea to make this place more customer-friendly, she snorted angrily when another pony bumped into her side. The least they could do is space out these freaking stalls, for Celestia's sake! This is more like a bumper ride than anything resembling shopping! What is Major Mare spending all our taxes on anyway?!

Having been forced to stop and thusly given a moment to think, another thing occurred to her.

She had completely lost sight of Snowy.

Uh-oh.

She turned her head around, moving so fast that her mane had difficulties in keeping up with her; the long strands of hair whipped around and slapped against her neck each time she changed direction. No sign of the blue ghost however; no matter where she looked, she could only see very real and very opaque ponies surrounding her. No see-through blue creatures for sure.

Can't believe I've lost a windigo, Lyra gulped dryly and felt a very uncomfortable sensation race down her spine. Calm down girl, calm down. She's gotta' be around here. She's just easily excited. What would draw her in, I wonder? Something shiny? Or maybe something hot? I mean, she totally loves eating heat. I wonder if there's any candle vendors around here...

"Master!"

The call came rather unexpectedly, and from a direction Lyra absolutely wouldn't have guessed beforehoof. She looked around, the palpable confusion sitting onto her face - then she raised her gaze upwards, just to see the translucent ghost sitting on the top of a stall's flimsy sunshade.

Right... ghost, Lyra punctuated her relief with a loud sigh. I keep forgetting she can do these kinda things.

"Master, I have found where Applejack resides!" Snowy grinned at Lyra, then pointed a hoof to her right. "If Master has nothing else to do here, I can easily guide Master there."

Nodding with some reluctance, Lyra resisted the strong desire to slap herself over the head. The answer to her earlier questions turned out to be nothing she could approve of.

Apparently the best thing Snowy can do in a crowded fair is make sure my day goes without a hitch, she ground her teeth. Disapproval or not, she did need the help though; so she started moving again, following the blue figure that hopped from the top of a stall to another's.

Watching the windigo do another physics-defying leap - and then land without so much as wobbling the textile ceiling of a stall - Lyra reassured herself on her self-made vow.

Just you see! I'll turn you into a real, sensible pony yet.





"Ten bits!" Applejack smiled at the green pegasus.

"Ten?" the pegasus squinted then scratched the top of his head. "Who are you and what have you done to my Applejack? I've always paid twice as much for these - and that was after hard bargaining."

"Sure ya' did - but there's some special discount today! Or maybe Ah've lost me wits," Applejack giggled and poked the front of her hat, pushing it back onto her neck. "Of course, 'am ain't offended if ya' decide to pay the good-ol'-regular price either, sugarpie. Customers be always rite', ain't they?"

"Hahaha, if you say so!" the pegasus burst into a laughter. She turned to her saddlebag and fished a white pouch from under the many apples, then turned it upside down and watched all the content fall out. The shiny, round coins clanged loudly and bounced around, doing their mad spinning dance until they ran out of momentum and settled down.

"I'm fine with ten if you say so!" the pegasus winked at AJ and turned away, pushing the empty pouch back into her saddlebag. "But I just can't not pay an extra ten for your customer service. Cheerios!"

A loud flap of wings and a burst of brown dust followed; and by the time the air cleared up, the count of pegasi standing at Applejack's stall had been reduced by one.

"Well, can't complain 'Ah suppose," Applejack shrugged and cleared the coins from the counter, straight into a crude-looking bag below.

"Somepony sure looks like she's having fun," Lyra chuckled and approached closer. She had been listening into the exchange from a few steps away, strategically hiding behind a cluster of ponies who were measuring the fine drinks at the stall opposite to AJ's.

"Well Ah'll be! If it ain't Miss Eavesdrop from the other day," AJ gave Lyra a stern glare, then shook her head lightly. She didn't look too scolding, all in all; a mild disapproval radiated from her at most.

"I'm not-" Lyra opened her mouth in protest, but changed her mind rather quickly. Her habit of not butting into other ponies' business did make her listen into a few conversations every now and then. So she closed her mouth and swallowed her response along with her pride, trading all those discarded goodies for a humbled smile. "Okay, so maybe a little. I didn't mean to do it, though. Honest!"

"If ya' say so!" AJ smirked and pulled the hat down until it covered half her face. "So, what's ya' fancy today? Some more of 'em apples?"

"Nah, I'm good! The last batch is still lasting me," Lyra moved to the stall with almost regular, if a little misaligned steps.

"Ah' thought so, seein' as how ya' carry no bags on ya'," AJ chuckled with a mischievous wink. "So what brings ya' here, then? Ah' thought ya'd be back at home and lyin' in bed, getting fresh bandages on that shoulder of yers."

"Ah, this..." Lyra stammered and turned to her right side. Her shoulder was still in bandages; but the formerly white texture had turned light-brown, stained by the dust and the everyday activities it had suffered through.

Now that I think about it, I really should get these bandages cleaned. Or changed... or whatever they do with these, Lyra frowned and fought off a wave of nausea. Truth be told, she had quite forgotten about the injury. The wound had stopped itching and hadn't really bothered her in the last few days either. Her steps had also become easier; she was still dragging her right leg, but she didn't need to hobble around like a three-legged weirdo any more.

"Ah' guess ya've gotta' be a real treat to look after," AJ snickered and brought Lyra out of her thoughts. "Yer' just as fiddly a patient as Dash is."

"I can attest to that," Snowy chimed in from above - from the very top of AJ's stall, to be exact. "Master seems to pay very little respect to her physical well-being. However, no matter how much I voice my concerns, I am always-"

"Zip it," Lyra groaned with a decidedly low - almost contralto - voice and rolled her eyes. "I'm fit as a fiddle! If anything, I'm only tired of always being told to-"

She shut her mouth closed, fast enough to actually catch her tongue between her teeth. The pain didn't bother her; not nearly as much as what she had just done. She had lashed out and completely forgotten how she wasn't alone with the windigo.

Please don't be mad at me, she blinked at Applejack, who looked absolutely confused about the sudden outburst. Pretty please don't be mad at me! Pretty, pretty, pretty please. I swear I will count to ten next time!

"Haha - okay, okay!" Applejack started laughing and pat the counter of her stall with a hoof. "Easy there, m'kay? Sorry if Ah've joined the choir forcin' their opinions on ya'! Must be real annoyin', hearin' that sentence all over an' over all day long. Well, now that Ah think 'bout it... Ah' suppose ya've gotta' be fine if ya' can walk around the fair like that!"

Wha... what? Did she just apologize to me? Lyra blinked even more vehemently, just as confused as Applejack had been moments ago. Also, what's with the sudden rush of empathy? Didn't I just, like, throw a rude thing at you?

She gulped and felt really tense.

Somepony tell me she hasn't gone REALLY crazy! I mean, that would be my fault, yes? Oh Celestia, please be sane.

"So what brings ya' over 'ere?" Applejack leaned forward, onto the counter. She didn't look upset at all, only a little curious.

Lyra had no idea why she was let off the hook so easily, but she - reluctantly - accepted the gift for now. The behaviour was a little suspicious, but she could convince herself that AJ was just a really professional apple-vendor. No undeniable signs of a windigo-mind-erasing-induced-madness just yet.

"I was just... you know, wandering around? Getting myself used to walking again," Lyra giggled and lifted her right hoof, moving the limb in circles in the air. It was a lie, of course; but it was the best idea she could come up with on the spot.

"So some sort of therapy, huh? Ah' think Ah' can recall Dash doin' something like that once," AJ hummed and turned her gaze upward, to the rim of her hat. "Shoot! Sugarpie, Ah' reckon ya' must've wrecked yerself real good then. Sorry Ah' hadn't realized sooner."

Oh, nuts! I think I've just started a weird rumour, Lyra flinched. She knew how rumours worked, all too well. They always grow in ridiculousness at each retelling, completely departing from reality at the fourth or fifth iteration. So she was pretty sure that in weeks, she would hear ponies whisper how she had spent weeks in the ER and that she would never recover fully ever again.

If only she could put to a stop to that - stomp it out right at the root.

If only.

But I can't really just tell AJ that she got it all wrong! she gritted her teeth in sheer frustration. What if this therapy thing is only needed for badly injured ponies? Then she would know I've lied to her!

Weighing her possible choices, Lyra drew a deeper breath and made peace with the inevitable rumours of her demise.

"But enough about me!" she threw the topic of her health to the side, lest she wander onto another figurative landmine. "What about you? You look... well..."

She fell silent. She had no idea how she could describe AJ, she really didn't. She barely knew the farmmare! What could she begin with? She felt that she would need something simple yet descriptive. Something like-

"She looks happy," Snowy noted from above, rejoining the conversation only when she sensed her master getting stuck. "She didn't call out Master earlier, and gave the previous customer a huge discount, too. I'm certainly no psychiatrist, but I think this pony looks happy. I mean, old Master would also give his subjects surprise presents whenever he felt happy... which was admittedly rare, but not completely unheard of."

Happy, Lyra chewed on the word and curled her lips into a wry grin. How could such a simple expression escape her?

"I mean, you look happy," she put the finishing touches onto her sentence. "Something happened?"

"Now just why'd ya' be askin' that?" Applejack snorted, but there was no anger in her voice. Quite the opposite, in fact; she looked as relaxed as a pony possibly could. She was smiling softly and lowered her head, her muzzle resting on her hooves. "Would Ah' need a reason to be happy? Them farmmares can't possibly be enjoyin' themselves just because? We're all sour apples, is that what yer' sayin'?"

I'm pretty sure I've said none of that! Lyra yanked her head back in surprise. Never had she seen paranoia couple with such innocent expressions. What can I even say to that, really? Also, is paranoia a possible sign that things have gone wrong? Someone please tell me it isn't!

"Master, this pony has just received the wealth equivalent to a small kingdom's," Snowy pointed out. She looked alert; despite how she had been goofing around earlier, she was fully devoted to the task once her master had started getting into trouble. "It's natural she would be secretive on the matter. Old Mas... I mean, some ponies have always said that bearing riches too openly only welcomed assassins and leeches. We should approach the matter indirectly."

What the... Lyra sneaked a quick glance at the windigo. Just how do you know all that? More importantly, how come I need your help with even such small talk now?

At that very moment, Lyra was more upset at her own self than anypony else in the whole world. She had never realized how reliant she had become on her servant's help, and the feeling was not to her liking. She felt glad for the assistance, yes... but that also made her very vulnerable; and more importantly, it also made her feel very, very daft as well.

She loathed feeling daft.

"I'm just saying that you're looking happier than usual," Lyra forced a self-confident grin onto herself. Owing to her upbeat mood, it wasn't an exceptionally hard task; but the outcome was a little strained nevertheless, as she was also quite nervous. The grin turned out okay - as long as nopony looked at the slight twitching at the tip of her lips, or the quivering of her eyebrows. "Care to share some good news with me? I mean, I'm neck-high in bandages! I could sure use some!"

"Umm... well, that's also an approach," Snowy stuttered and hugged the top of the stall, her hooves clenched over her head. "I was thinking more about how Master could inquire who this pony would help out. Surely she has children, siblings or nieces or step-nieces or some such to pay money to now! Family always pops up at the sound of riches and always demand their share."

What a depressing way to look at things, Lyra mused to herself, but managed to keep her outwardly appearance unchanged. Snowy had goaded her into an unwise remark just before; she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

It was just the right time to keep her composure, too. AJ raised an eyebrow and measured her carefully, then raised her head and looked around. A purely cosmetic move, most likely; the whole market was bristling with ponies of all sizes and colours, and that included the vicinity of the apple-farmer's stall as well. That didn't deter Applejack one bit; she waved at Lyra to come closer, discretely enough so that no more than two dozen ponies could see the notion.

This freakin' crowd is really starting to get on my nerves, Lyra grumbled internally. She dragged herself to AJ nevertheless, looking at the nearby ponies all the while. Her divided attention only achieved one clear result: that AJ's hug took her by a complete surprise.

The orange earth pony wrapped a leg around Lyra's neck and yanked the surprised musician onto the counter of the stall. Lyra was so surprised she couldn't even cry out.

Whah-!

"Looks intimate," Snowy blinked and dropped from the top of the shack, arriving straight next to the struggling master of hers. "VERY intimate. I wonder, should I turn away? I have never asked how much Master values privacy in, well, those moments..."

WHAT! Lyra blushed in earnest. She also made sure she flung one of her hind legs through the windigo amidst her struggles. It was pointless but very rewarding. I'M BEING CHOKED HERE! I'M LITERALLY KICKING THE BUCKET HERE! SO JUST WHAT MENTAL FAULT ALLOWED YOU TO ARRIVE AT THAT CONCLUSION?!

"Hey, ease up there," AJ whispered into Lyra's ear. "Ya' reminded me of somethin' just now. And Ah' wanna' tell ya' that something in private."

"Ah," Lyra raised her eyebrows, She deliberated on her choices briefly; it didn't take a genius to see she wasn't in true danger, so she complied. That left her lying limp on the counter... and she couldn't help but notice how Snowy turned away in haste. The windigo even began whistling a horribly false tune, as if her discomfort wasn't obvious enough.

That was more than enough to bring Lyra out of her comfort zone, in turn.

Oi! Just what do you think I'm about to do here?! And why would you take me for that kind of a pony anyway!

"Am' only telling ya' cause' ya' look like ya' could use some good news indeed," AJ kept on whispering. "That and for havin' Big Mac run ya' over the other day. Ah've only heard of it last nite', but it almost escaped mah' mind already. Real sorry 'bout that."

"Oh... that," Lyra giggled weakly. The incident with the red stallion was absolutely the last of her concerns. She was actually fighting ferociously, both to ignore her idiot ghost and to keep herself from asking the other pony to go away. In the bid for privacy, AJ had leant so close that her hot breath tickled the skin inside Lyra's ear. It made the ear twitch and also made Lyra want to scratch it like no tomorrow... not to mention the multiple layers of uncomfortable she felt at the same time. "It's... erk... it's okay. Momentarily."

"No, it ain't okay. Ah' dunno if them injuries were outright caused by Mac or if he just worsened 'em; but it definitely ain't right," AJ tightened her grasp around Lyra's neck, dragging the hapless musician even closer. "Ah'll be honest with ya': Ah' ain't ever told a lie. Never! So ya' can believe me when Ah' say Ah've no idea what happened in the last few days... but somehow Ah've found a whole cache of wealth at home. Ah' ain't havin' no idea where it came from, but Ah've asked them Guard and they ain't havin' no reports of anything being stolen... so it's gotta' be legitimate."

Those words worked like magic. Lyra forgot about the chokehold and stared at the orange pony... then smiled as if she had gone raving mad, grinning so widely that all her teeth showed. That lasted for a whole whooping four seconds, because she was let go afterwards. With nothing to support her weight, she slumped off the counter and fell onto the ground. It should have been a fairly harsh landing - but she bounced back like a rubber toy, her excitement leaving her with no room for minor inconveniences such as pain.

"Now yer' in the know," Applejack winked at her and settled back to resting comfortably on the counter. "If ya' need help with yer' recovery, don't be afraid to just gimme' a shout."

"Cool," Lyra cooed, her whole being quaking with excitement. She had the mind to glimpse to her side though, and her gaze met with Snowy's for a moment.

No words were needed; the eye-contact was enough to convey their feelings on the matter.

We did it!
> 19 - Tenacity
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Of all the places to celebrate our success..." Snowy balked. Her disapproval was momentary at best; she stuck her head out, over the bucket of hot water. She then breathed in long and deep, rapidly cooling everything around her. The suddenly chilly air collided with the hot water and steam erupted, rising in a pillar until it dissipated in the hotter air above.

"Oh hush! Hot baths are one of the highest achievements of civilization," Lyra giggled and arched her back, pushing her head down. She was floating in her bathtub, among all the petal-shaped bathing salts she had managed to dig up in her haste. Her arrival at home was quite chaotic; she arrived in full spirits, only to realize that Bon was still out. That put a curb on her plans; a party of one was not a good party. She had to settle for something she could enjoy on her own.

She couldn't think of anything more enjoyable than relaxing in the warm, steaming water.

"I have no objections to our victory laps ending in hot baths," Snowy shrugged. "Though this habit will not do if we are to resume with Master's plan. Always returning here post-haste won't be a feasible solution if we increase the scope of our operation."

"I know," Lyra nodded, sending small waves all around the tube. They crashed against the ceramic walls and returned to the pony, splashing around her head.

She understood how she would need to act more mature in the future. Even so, this one bath she deserved; her nerves really could have used some soothing.

She had been quite anxious over how the whole erasing-memories thing would turn out. There was a pretty thin margin for failure, close to none; she was messing with the life of another pony, after all. Then there was the sudden headache, right after Snowy had used her ability... she was really worried that something had gone off the rails at that point. Then there was AJ - it was impossible to predict how the farmmare would react to the sudden change. That worry had also proved unfounded, Celestia be thanked.

And last but not least, there was the Source as well, along with its ominous - almost theatrically overblown - warnings. Closing her eyes and pushing her head under the water, Lyra could still hear the words echo in her head.

All cheats have their price, blah blah.

Lyra resurfaced with a loud splash. She breathed out, sending droplets of hot water into the air, sprinkling them all over the small room.

Well, meh. In the end, everything went as smoothly as possible, she giggled uncontrollably and leaned backward, resting her head against the cold backside of the tub. So much ado for nothing... it's almost anticlimactic.

She had no idea where that thought came from, though she had her suspicions.

Goes to show I hang out too much around the Opera... I'm starting to think in terms of drama all the time!

That made her little smile turn into a full-blown toothy grin. She couldn't help it; she opened her mouth and burst into a hollering laughter. Her rocking belly sent larger and larger waves around the tub, finally making her shut up once the water started getting into her mouth.

"Master is oddly scary sometimes," Snowy commented on the scene. She looked a little dejected; she was still sitting next to her bowl, but there wasn't any steam rising from the water any more.

"And you're a glutton," Lyra shot a random insult back. Most of her interest had gone into the way she was scratching her side.

Snowy accepted the remark with remarkable stoicism. She dug her nose into the water-filled bowl; only by the flash of her outlines did her master know what the windigo was doing.

"Don't just stuff your face when I insult you," Lyra sighed and closed her eyes, trying to give the ghost a lecture and to enjoy her bath at the same time. "Stand firm! Shout back at me! Contend! Argue!"

Snowy remained silent. Her muzzle was fully submerged in the bowlful of water; that would have rendered her emotions difficult to read, had her ears not dropped to a new low. 

Lyra noted that with a triumphant smirk; she could tell the scolding had an effect. She remained silent and waited for a reply, letting the windigo chew on the criticism.

An odd period of silence set out between the two. Only the splashing of water echoed in the bathroom.

"But I can't really do any of that," Snowy finally sighed. She didn't bother to lift her head from the bowl before talking, but that didn't seem to impede her ability to vocalize. "I can't argue with the very Master whom my sole purpose is to serve. It would be contradictory."

"As if being contradictory was unusual!" Lyra laughed, her tone bristling with sarcasm and self-deprecation. She shifted around, sending a large wave crashing at the side of the tub, spraying her own face with droplets of water. "Look at me, you doof. Look at all the things I wish and want to do... then at how lazy I am and how I'll never achieve even a quarter of those. Don't you suppose I'm a little weird myself? Or illogical? ...or whatever like those."

"Lieges can afford to indulge in hobbies," Snowy narrowed her eyes and dug deeper into the bowl, her nose scraping at the very bottom. "Subjects, however, may not. That has always been the rule; and no matter how much the world has changed, I doubt it would have gone away."

"It will forever stay that way if you keep thinking like that," Lyra cracked her right eye open. Her left eyelid felt as if it was covered with water, so she just gave that one a rub instead. "Ever thought of trying to change that thing as well? Isn't changing things what you're here for?"

The latter was an almost direct quote from the Source, and Lyra wondered if she should pour a new batch of water just to feel clean from the taint.

"I am... but the world is vast. One alone can only achieve so much," Snowy muttered. She sounded unsure, but there was some curiosity in her voice. She raised her head into the open, staring at her master intently.

Oi, oi... are you baiting me? Lyra mused at the contradictory signs. Fine! I'll bite.

"Defeatist," she shrugged and turned a little, looking the windigo directly in the eyes. "You can't know that! I bet you never even dared to try."

"To try... like how Master is trying to help everypony?" Snowy cocked her head to the side. "That also sounded like an impossible goal from the start. It was Master's plan though, so I followed like I should have - hoping Master had some cunning plan I couldn't possibly perceive."

"Plan... pffft! Snowy, I would really like to think that we get to help everypony," Lyra raised her eyebrows, grinning mischievously. "I do owe you an admission, I guess. I don't think we'll ever get around to finishing. I'll try of course, but every pony... that's quite a lot."

She took on a more serious face after the laughter and eyed the ghost intently. She had omitted something important - that she was hoping that Snowy would gain acceptance and freedom along the way, and continue even without a pony master.

Such a reasonable goal would have detracted from the point she was trying to make.

"Snowy, don't tell me you would give up on this? That you only went along with me because you had no other choice?"

Snowy glanced around the small bathroom rather nervously. She rubbed her chin at first, then her neck, then the back of her head; all while looking in the most random directions, the gears in her head grinding away at full force.

"It never sounded very feasible I suppose," she finally admitted. "I follow Master, of course - all the way to the end of the world, if it comes to that! But it just... seems like a waste, embarking on such a grandeur plan without any end or returns in sight. It makes me feel like Master would get short-changed, no matter the outcome."

Lyra chuckled at the response.

"When I was a small musician, I used to dream about being the best in the world. I kept dreaming that one day, I would play everything in a way nopony else could. That I would achieve perfection," she recounted. The hot water made it easy for her to get lost in those fond memories, her gaze growing as hazy as her voice. "But you know, over the years, I have learnt there is no such thing as perfection."

Snowy fiddled in place. She looked torn; she was unsure if she was to refute those words, but was clearly wishing that she could prove them wrong. 

"Those music sheets, those papers... they are just the bare bone details. No, not even that; they are just some ideas somepony once wrote. That's not what music's about. That's why there can't be perfection - every musician simply adds a little of their heart to those sheets. Every musician brings them to life a little differently," Lyra explained. She was more relaxed than ever, and her words came with an irrefutable sense of certitude. She wasn't simply sure about what she had said; she was convinced, with her whole being. "It's that simple. That's how music is born. Every time some pony grabs an instrument, something different is born. Not better, nor worse than the others... just different. So I couldn't be better than the rest, no matter how hard I'd try. I could be more popular, yes... but better? Nah."

Snowy nodded. Her head moved hesitantly, her struggle evident. She leaned over the bucket of cold water, stared at the wobbling reflection... then turned her gaze upwards, her crimson eyes stuck on her master.

She didn't go as far as to say anything, however.

"Silent? Why? I know you want to ask me something," Lyra giggled softly. She plunged her head below the water once again; she enjoyed the hot water warming her face. She wanted to give her speech a pause anyway... see if Snowy would opt to speak up.

She didn't.

"C'me on. Aren't you thinking, 'whoa, isn't my master crazy or what'?"

"A... little. That speech was contradictory," Snowy laughed out of sheer awkwardness and looked away, her hoof scratching the back of her head. "If Master believes she will never be better than the other musicians, that there is no perfection... why does Master bother, then? Are Master's past works not already good enough? What's the point?"

"Simple! Just because I can't best others, I can still be better than my own past self," Lyra raised her eyebrows, squeezing a small stream of water from her facial fur.

"Even so, Master can't reach perfection if perfection is an unattainable goal," Snowy kept on protesting. She was either getting more curious or more confident, but she dared to ask the question while staring at her master this time.

"So I should give up because my goal is unattainable? Ugh, how could I explain this to you... Snowy, has anypony won this game before? It's still going on, so I think not," Lyra flashed a toothy grin; she knew she had found the Golden Grail of analogies. "Doesn't that make you servants a little pointless? I mean, you've been around for quite a while... but none of you could attain the ultimate goal so far. So who knows - maybe your goal is just as illusory as my perfection. Doesn't that make you feel like giving up?"

"Of course not! Our purpose is to help our Masters! No matter how difficult a task they make us bear, we must strive towards success!" Snowy broke into a loud and agitated shout. Her conviction was so sudden that it wasn't clear whether she had feelings regarding the matter or if she was programmed to think that way. Whichever was the case, however, she must have began seeing Lyra's point - for she trailed off soon afterwards. "Even if it seems impossible, we... should..."

"Just because something is not attainable, it may still be worth striving forwards to," Lyra sighed loudly and rose from the warm water. Water dripped from her coat, and flowed freely from her mane, the long hairs acting as one oversized sponge. "I may never reach perfection... but I sure want to be as good as I can get. Just to prove to myself that I could still improve, if nothing else."

"Master may never make the world perfect... but Master would still make the world as good as Master possibly can," Snowy muttered numbly as her master crawled out of the bathtub. Water sprinkled all over the tiled floor, mixed with a few loose strands of cyan fur. The ghost wasn't giving the image much thought; she had a hoof pushed against the bottom of her muzzle as she hummed. "Well, it's a little circular... but I can understand that logic, I guess. Looking back now, I suppose I may have been a defeatist-"

"Don't you freaking dare apologize," Lyra growled and reached for a towel. The pink fabric lunged at her from the rack, aided by her unicorn magic. The trick involved her undivided focus though; and looking that way, her right shoulder entered view. Her right shoulder, complete with the damp, dripping bandages.

Oh, right... forgot about this tidbit, Lyra frowned as the blanked flew over her head. Out of her view and with no magic suspending it, the dry textile dropped out from the air and landed right on her back.

Ugh... I don't think I was supposed to bathe that thing.

Glancing at her back to grab the towel, Lyra mused if she should take the bandages off herself. They couldn't have served any purpose now, all dirty and wet. With that being said, she had a lot of plans to finish that day; she wanted to mark the success down in her diary, perhaps help another pony or two... 

Fiddling around with bandages was kind of low on her priorities - and was nothing she couldn't do later, in the evening.





Lyra took a final, passing glance at the recently added lines. She rubbed the ink a little, made sure it had already dried; then she shut the diary and tucked it under her bed.

Snowy observed in silence; she had already grown familiar with that ritual. She then followed her master out of the room, into the corridor, where she watched Lyra stick a note to the wall-hanger. That paper piqued her interest; she inched closer, all innocent-like, and began spelling out the letters one by one.

"Oh - so you actually practice on your own!" Lyra giggled. She only noticed the sneaky ghost because she had turned back to double-check that she wasn't leaving anything important at home.

"But of course! I would be so much more useful to Master if I could read written instructions," Snowy interrupted her reading of the paper to make a small bow. "Master's notes are not as easy to read as printed letters though... so I think Master will have to stick to vocalization and body language for a while. My most sincere apologies on that."

"Don't sweat it," Lyra chuckled. It had been many years ago, but she could remember how long it had taken her to learn the alphabet; she had spent a year in school just learning the shapes. It was unrealistic to expect the windigo learning it much faster. She didn't want to demoralize Snowy before they had even began though, so she was careful to never mention that fact.

"It seems we are going to some... car something boo-teek, though?" Snowy returned her attention to the note, her voice half-wondering, half-curious. "Did I get that one right, Master?"

The question was enough to make Lyra's hooves freeze to the ground.

"Carousel Boutique," she whispered and glanced back at the windigo. "How did you...?"

"It was in Master's note to Miss Bon," Snowy motioned at the small paper. "Along with asking her to do the shopping, as Master will be unable take care of that."

"R- right," Lyra nodded. It was more of an automated reaction than something wilful; her mind was busy just coming to terms with what she had witnessed.

Snowy... did you seriously learn how to read in a few days?

Her amber eyes resting on the ghost - who was, in turn, staring back at her with shameless curiosity - Lyra gulped and lowered her ears. It was odd to realize just how frighteningly powerful Snowy was, once she put her full potential to something.

"Is there something wrong?" Snowy finally broke the awkward silence. "I mean-"

"No. It's nothing," Lyra stuttered and yanked her head away. She pushed the door open and moved out, closely followed by the blue creature only she could see.





"Pretty!"

A dry chuckle rising from the depths of her throat, Lyra squinted at the fancy, full-glass store front. A veritable masterpiece beckoned her; a mannequin dressed in a pearly white gown. Indeed, the dress looked like an artefact from a different world. Its lines were so well designed they felt wholly organic; a work of nature that couldn't have been designed any better - or in any other way, period. There was just the right amount of diamonds sprinkled around too, their sly glittering captivating the eye without becoming a self-interested show of glamour.

Lyra toyed with the idea of taking the dress, of walking around in it... of entering her greatest concert while parading as a pony of higher stature. Then she dipped her gaze to the ground, closed her eyes and 
shook her head.

"Not just pretty," she sighed and turned away, lest she became depressed over such baseless desires. "Too bad I won't be able to afford it. Like, ever."

"We could take it," Snowy pushed her face against the glass. "As long as Master can get the receipt without paying at the very same time, I could repeat our performance from the bank."

Lyra stopped and threw an angered glare at the windigo.

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that," she snarled.

Did you really forget why we're doing all this in the first place? 

"I don't really see the issue to be honest," Snowy shrugged. She was still completely hung up on the dress, so she couldn't have seen the utter disapproval her master displayed. "Master is going out of her way to help everypony, all without asking anything in return. Surely a little recompense would be fair game?"

"Haha, want a bet? Even the smallest misstep would cast doubts on my motives... on us," Lyra grinned wryly, putting her head into another, slow shake. "So don't even think about it, m'kay? We're heroes, and heroes don't do that kind of thing."

The words had an effect. Snowy pushed herself away from the glass and looked up, right at the cloudless, deep blue sky.

"Heroes..."

She furrowed her forehead and grimaced.

"Will Master be accepting donations, at least?"

No wonder you were at home in the bank, Lyra rolled her eyes. You're like, completely financial-minded!

"Nope," she kept shaking her head, putting a little more vigour into the move to make her intention obvious. "That's the same as blackmailing ponies for a better life. Ain't really what I had in mind, huh?"

"Makes sense," Snowy nodded and rolled her crimson eyes downward, onto her master. "Then will Master be giving up on her old life?"

"Whah!" Lyra balked and almost tripped on her leg. "Where'd that come from? Why would I even do that?! I like my life! I enjoy music, I like Bon, I-"

"Because unless Master was serious on never sleeping again... I can't see Master being a hero and staying a renowned musician. One can't live two lives just by trying to do so," Snowy continued lowering her gaze, moving from Lyra onto the dusty cobblestones beneath them. "I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I would rather have Master come to terms with reality before we reach the point of no return."

Lyra bit on her lip. She hated to admit it, but the windigo had another pretty good point. The vacation made it easy for her to forget, but she wouldn't have had that much time during her regular days. She would need to prepare for performances, hone her skills, talk to managers and, well, manage all the fiddly bits of her life.

I could be helping others for what, a few hours a day? she gnawed on thin air, her mouth moving in chewing motions as her brain distracted itself. I wouldn't achieve anything like that... the effect would be too small. Nopony would realize that I'm working my rear off in the background.

She looked back at the ghostly servant and sighed.

"I'll find a way to be a hero and be Lyra Heartstrings at the same time," she announced and yanked her head hard, motioning that they should have moved on. "So don't you worry about me. I'll manage!"

It's not like I had any other choice. It's the only way to set you free, she grimaced once her back was turned to the windigo. It's not like I could bear to look at you... watch you act as my personal slave for all the rest of my days. I would go mad.

Though the more she thought about it as she circled around the Carousel Boutique, she couldn't help but find the concept of being a hero more and more difficult.

Great! Just what I needed - another thing to keep me awake at night.





The tiny bells spoke up in their high-pitched voices, ringing rhythmically as the opening door pulled on their string.

Fancy, she paid the contraption an amused nod. The four bells were hard to take seriously; they looked like a misplaced toy, a practical joke done by a filly. Lyra enjoyed the tone to their ringing, however; she found the idea of some music playing - no matter how basic or short - whenever somepony entered her house quite appealing.

I bet this isn't such a rare thing either, she finally tore her gaze away. I really should get out more, huh?

"AS IF YOU'D LISTEN! YOU HAD NEVER CARED FOR WHAT I WANTED!"

The yell caught Lyra by surprise. It was quite high-pitched; it couldn't have belonged to anypony of old age. It lacked the charming tingling though; it was hoarse and crude. Whoever was doing the screaming had been at it for a while already.

Sure not missing not having seen THIS show, Lyra snickered. She paused and glimpsed over her back; she had to keep the door open until Snowy scurried in.

"Sweetie Bell, I've already told you - I can't be in two places at the same time! And I've already told you how important this work is!"

Oh! I know that one - that's Rarity, Lyra's ears jumped at the familiar the voice. She didn't wait any more; she slammed the door and moved deeper inside.

Snowy gave the moving door a surprised blink; then grunted hard as the piece of painted wood ploughed into her side. She turned into a fine blue mist in the blink of an eye, returning to her regular shape a few steps away. She couldn't help but stare accusingly at the door however. There was no reason to be rude just because she was a ghost.

Lyra noted little of all that. She was walking at a steady pace, prowling across the shop interior, following the voices. She was making her way among mannequins; blocks of gypsum and wood, crafted into ponies of various shapes and poses. Lyra didn't care much for them, apart from circling around them; in fact, she tried to ignore them as fully as she could. All of those statues wore fancy dresses... dresses of which she could never afford even the cheapest. She had only seen such garments among the guests of her performances in Canterlot.

That had always struck her as little unjust. A lot of those ponies were only born into their positions, their status only based on the merits of their lineage. She would have loved to be part of that clique, even only for a short while. Even if in appearance only...

Stop thinking like that, she chided herself. Her mouth felt sour and a dull pain crept into her head; she wanted none of those. It was stupid, getting herself worked up over such nonsense. She may have lacked in flashy outfits, but she was happy where it counted. She did what she loved - music - and had a great friend whenever she was down or in need.

The mere existence of her do-gooder-crusade was the proof. Unhappy ponies worked on their issues! She, on the other hoof, had gone out of her way to get involved in issues that had nothing to do with her.

"Master, is this wise?" Snowy appeared on her left. The ghost bounced from mannequin to mannequin, leaping and gliding at almost every step; the whole scene closer to a nicely choreographed dance than a form practical locomotion. "Based on the sounds, it doesn't seem like a good time to approach..."

Lyra flashed her eyes at the windigo, though the warning definitely had merit. She could-

She never got to finishing that line of thought. Moving without looking forward, she bumped into a mannequin dressed in an elaborate red dress. The hollow figure offered little resistance and fell on its side with a clang; diamonds and needles scattering on the floor, from the dress no doubt. Lyra had a great view of the whole disaster - she was lying on the top of the overturned figure, frowning mightily at her clumsiness.

Way to make a good first impression, she hissed and bounced back up, dragging the mannequin along with her magic.

"Hear that? I already have another customer waiting for me!" came Rarity's voice from above, from the second floor. Loud hoofsteps accompanied her words; she started moving to the actual shop area. "I understand your frustration, but you must also understand I can't be with you every-"

"Pfff! Is that supposed to be placating? Well, you can say that you care as much as you want - but we both know what the truth is!" whined the same filly whom Lyra had already heard before. "Go and have fun with your... dolls, or whatever! They are clearly more interesting to you than I am! So just go! I SAID GO! HAVE! FUN!"

Whoa, Lyra cringed as she distanced herself from the mannequin in the - slightly ruffled - red dress. This sounds like no ordinary argument.

"Sounds like they know each other," Snowy took the words straight from her master's head. "This might complicate matters..."

"No kidding," Lyra gulped. Her original plan was simply asking Rarity about those clients she had complained about, back at the market. A fairly safe undertaking, barring possible accidents with unfortunately placed mannequins. That plan had gone bust with the argument upstairs, however; she couldn't imagine Rarity being in the mood for a chat.

Lyra needed a plan B.

She found one almost right away. The new idea wasn't really different from the original - the sole addition was making Rarity and the other pony forget about their argument, letting her freely ask whatever she wanted.

Even just running the new plan through her head raised some serious issues, however.

Not sure if mind-wiping Rarity and somepony close to her is the best idea ever, she rubbed the side of her head. Oh sweet Celestia, this is getting so complicated. Actually, you know what? Let's just come back later! It's not like I'm on a schedule or anything.

"Advice taken," she whispered to her windigo and turned around. She moved so hastily that she could barely see what she was doing - she bumped into another mannequin, almost turning that one over as well. "Let's come back when the coast is clear!"

"Hurrah! Nothing quite like to seeing my advice being valuable!" Snowy struck a victorious pose, a hoof of hers sailing high in the air.

"Not sure if this is worth celebrating," Lyra growled. She dodged the wobbling mannequin and kicked into high gear, bolting towards the door - or would have, had a familiar voice not stopped her dead in her tracks.

"Oh, it's you! Do come in!" Rarity greeted her from behind. "The Carousel Boutique is always open!"

Shoot, Lyra skid to a halt. The fastest way out now is in, huh?

She turned around, deliberately slowly. She wanted to appear in the best light possible - and she also needed those few seconds to recompose herself and put a warm smile onto her face.

"I'm... am I glad to hear that..."





"Three dozen dresses," Lyra raised an eyebrow. She wanted to sound curious, but the disbelief remained more prominent on her voice. "All due in a few days?"

"Not just any dresses either!" Rarity winked and reared her head back, her chest bulging with thinly veiled pride. "These are for the most important ponies in Equestria!"

"Nice," Lyra whistled shortly, just long enough to realize how below class her reaction was. "Explains all the mannequins you've got down there. You're really something else, you know that? Working on so many things at the same time..."

"Try not to sound so surprised," Rarity smirked and giggled softly. She took her gaze off her guest and glanced at the cup in front of her. "Sugar?"

"Nah, I'm fine," Lyra rejected politely.

On cue, the two unicorns grabbed the two painted cups and took shallow sips of the yellowish tea inside.

They were both next to a small table, surrounded by finely-cut dolls in fine garments. They were almost right at the entrance; but for the sake of giving some illusion of privacy, Rarity had a purple folding screen put behind them. Staring at the cup in front of her, Lyra had no idea where the couturier could have gotten hot tea from on such short notice; it was either a strange coincidence or some crazy level of preparedness.

It was too bad she couldn't enjoy much of it. Snowy had decided on not waiting for approval this once; she nommed on her master's drink as soon as it was on the table. 

Burdened by the presence of another pony, Lyra couldn't really protest; she could only watch as her cup of tea stopped steaming... then turned frosty.

Well... I am trying to make her more self-sufficient, Lyra tried to keep her optimist outlook as she chugged down the ice-cold refreshment. This is progress... I guess...

"It's rather strange though," Snowy held a hoof to her chin and ran her gaze across the many mannequins surrounding them. "All these dresses around us, they aren't just for a few ponies. This is almost a veritable crowd! Why would all these nobles desire new outfits at the same time?"

Good point, Lyra thought to herself. She wanted to nod, but she could only shudder as the ice-cold liquid made its way down her throat. I don't care how good Rarity is, this is clearly more work than what a single pony can handle. It's obvious, right? Surely even the last few customers must have realized that. So why would they still order their clothes here...? Why this crazy haste, this pressure?

"Seems like your customers put a lot of faith in you," she smiled as her cup floated back to the table. "I mean, if I were the last customer ordering a dress from here? I might be a teensy little bit worried about having another thirty-five in the queue ahead of me."

"Oh dear! That almost sounds as if you were belittling me," Rarity pulled a hoof in front of her mouth and giggled softly. "All my customers know that Rarity always delivers - and always delivers on time, too. Anypony who doubts my skills wouldn't be ordering from me in the first place."

"Sounds like a crazy level of trust," Lyra whistled. She smacked herself in the face immediately afterwards; those weren't the words she had been meaning to use.

"It would certainly be unusual in any other field," Rarity smirked, her expression positively beaming with pride. "But that's how it works when it comes to nobility. They like holding themselves to different standards, you see. Demanding written contracts and assurances might be the modus operandi for everypony else, but when it comes to nobles, it's akin to telling them you don't trust their word. That's a grave offence, dear. A gentlecolt's word always weighs more than those stupid papers."

Ain't this great? Lyra gawked, stopping a little short from slapping herself silly. Sounds like the leadership of my country is especially vulnerable to ghosts like Snowy. Willingly so!

She felt utterly conflicted on the issue. While it made her break out in cold sweat, the news did feed her optimism as well.

"So you gave them your word you would finish," she returned to the other issue, shoving the issues of national security to the very back of her mind.

"And so I will do," Rarity nodded curtly, then lifted her cup to her mouth and took a sip. She moved slowly and elegantly - in stark contrast to Lyra, who had downed the whole thing in one go.

"What if you can't?" Lyra leaned forward and cocked her head to the side. She looked as she felt - curious and excited. She had never spoken freely to anypony in close connection to the higher strata before; and depending on the answers, she had the chance to do this pony a huge favour, too. It was only natural for her mind and heart to be racing. "I understand you want to finish everything on time, but... thirty-six dresses sound like a lot of work!"

"Haha, well! I've given my word that I would finish on time. I've also accepted the down payments; bowing out would be the worst thing I could do," Rarity smirked from the cover of the steaming cup. "Make no mistake; it certainly won't be an easy feat, not even for one of my brilliance. But you know, dear? These opportunities don't come very often. I will simply have to outdo myself and rise to the occasion."

"Opportunity?" Lyra pulled her head back and rubbed her chin.

True enough, the way Rarity's acting, it's clear this isn't her usual workload, she glanced at the ceiling as she flipped the pages of her memories. So it's a special occasion...hmm, is anything big scheduled for the next few days?

Nothing came to her mind. Pretty literally.

Dammit, this happens every time I go on vacation. I'm so relaxed I can't even remember which day of the week it is, let alone the calendar entries!

"Oh dear. Don't tell me this is the first time you've heard of it!" Rarity went wide-eyed. She placed her cup back onto the table with haste - so hastily that the tea spilled out, drawing an amoeba-like pattern before dripping onto the floor. "It's the wedding!"

"Oh... ooh?" Lyra gave a hesitant nod, using even that little time to scramble for answers - futilely. She had no choice but to ask. "Somepony's getting married?"

"Errr... yes?" Rarity balked at the shocking level of carelessness she was facing. "Shining Armour and Princess Cadence are going to get married! Seriously, it's all over the news!"

"Ohhh, that thing!" Lyra giggled and slapped herself on the forehead.

As she was never invited to the whole event, she had tried hard - and ultimately, successfully - to forget about the thing. It would have been nice to be in the band providing music to the wedding, or at least for the related events; she had been quite dismayed to find out she hadn't been picked.

"I know neither of those two... but I can't say I approve of such an arrangement," Snowy huffed, shaking her head in disapproval. "Princesses ought to marry one of equal standing! What has become of this world, ponies of highest standing stooping down to mere commoners like that?"

Oi! I'm one of those commoners myself! Lyra choked at the out-dated social commentary. Seriously, get going with the times already, you stupid ghost! We aren't living in the middle ages anymore!

"Yes, that thing," Rarity rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Isn't that in, like, two weeks or so?" Lyra refocused her attention, forcibly ignoring the windigo. "That's more than two dresses a day!"

"Make that four," Rarity winked. "Just finishing a dress is not enough. I need to finish in time so the customers can come over and pick them up... and make the last-second adjustments, too. You would think that flawless works are enough, but it's often my clientele isn't satisfied until they had a few changes of their own incorporated. Just so they can say they had a hoof in the making, I suppose. Ah, the lengths I go to..."

Lyra and Snowy exchanged a brief stare; then both of them looked around, at the myriad of mannequins and the unfinished dresses. They stared silently, both of them completely bamboozled by what they had heard.

Rarity took the utter silence as the chance to pour herself and her guest some more tea.

"Four," Lyra scratched her head, finding her voice after a few seconds. "That's like, six hours each."

"Provided I don't sleep," Rarity giggled renewed; despite what Lyra had expected of a pony under such stress, she seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. "But no, my outlooks aren't so bleak. As you can see, most of the dresses are close to completion now. It's going to be a little tight, but I'm quite positive I can finish everything on schedule."

Raising her eyebrows high and humming to herself, Lyra gave the mannequins another look. The argument she had heard earlier now started making sense.

'You only care for your stupid dolls', huh...

"Sounds like you've been busy," she gave the couturier a questioning stare.

"Busy? Busy, she says! Dear, I've been working myself ragged!" Rarity chuckled, scoffing at the belittling statement. "I've been doing nothing for the last half year but work on these things!"

"That so," Lyra muttered. She was briefly interrupted by a flash of blue; she fell silent as she watched Snowy strip her tea from any shred of warmth again. She wrinkled her eyebrows in anger, shook her head disapprovingly, then reached for the cup with a disillusioned expression. She had to let the issue slide. It wasn't the time to teach her servant basic table etiquette; she had to keep focused on the issue she had come to deal with. "Half a year, you say. At the risk of being a little crass... Rarity, how's your personal life faring? I mean, I'm an artist myself, and I know what's it like to lose yourself in a project... and girl, are those always difficult times! Heck, Bon threatened to kick me out once."

She was bending the truth a little, of course.

Bon did kick her out for a week that time.

She had been careful ever since not to get that lost in her pursuit of musical interests.

As far as Rarity's reaction went, the question seemed to touch on something sensitive indeed. The white unicorn fell silent and shut down. She was completely frozen, even holding the porcelain teapot two inches above the table - exactly in the same spot it had been when the question left Lyra's mouth.

"Direct," Snowy hissed at the distressingly long pause. "I think Master may have been a little too direct."

Way too direct, Lyra gulped dryly, completely in agreement with the windigo's assessment. I really need to work on my subtlety skills.

The teapot landed back on the table. It wasn't gently placed, but dropped outright; it made a loud clang, its top dancing around at the impact.

Oh crud, Lyra felt a huge knot swell in her throat. I've just screwed up, didn't I?

"Master, should we erase the last few sentences?" Snowy recoiled and made a hasty offer. "Before things go too much out of control!"

Squinting at the windigo, Lyra seriously weighed that option. She opened her mouth, the command on the tip of her trembling lips... but something held her back. Something reminded her how she wasn't meant to use Snowy for her own benefit, to undo her own mistakes; that a hero wouldn't act so selfishly, wouldn't stoop so low.

In the conflict of her desire to get out of a tight spot and to keep true to her ideal at the same time, all she had done was to hesitate.

"Dear... oh dear, you know... you know, you're the first one to ask me about this," Rarity finally broke into a long sigh. It was almost as if the question had broken her; she was staring to the side with a sombre, weary face.

Whoa, Lyra recoiled at the effect she had achieved. What's this now?

"Weren't you talking to AJ about these things, the other day?" she asked, being extra careful to approach the issue with the proper care this time.

"Of course not. It's not a matter she would bring up on her own. I don't think she would ever realize my true situation, to be honest," Rarity hung her head low, her head disappearing behind the curls of her mane. "She may be similar to me, but she's so different at the same time. The Apples do everything together. They're always together. I, on the other hoof... I can't do this in a team. Only the brilliance of Rarity can breathe life into these fabrics. If I let anypony else touch them... I'm afraid they would lose that special touch. And that would be bad. I can't afford to give my name to anything but the best!"

Lyra relaxed at the outburst; she was happy she hadn't done anything wrong. Her reprieve was short-lived, however. She was back to feeling wretched soon afterwards; partly because she had rendered a pony into such depression, and partly because she could easily associate with those woes herself.

There was no 'team' in 'orchestra'. She and the other musicians may have played together, but in truth, all of them were out on their own. Every single one of them had to play perfect, as their combined effort was only as good as their weakest member's. There was no way to help each other; any mistake rendered the whole effort worthless.

She had always dreaded being the one who dragged the others down. She had spent countless nights up, practising on her own, working the strings of the lyre until she simply collapsed, falling asleep next to the instrument. Then she woke up only to resume. Sometimes for days... sometimes for weeks. Usually as long as Bon would tolerate her obsession.

"I see what you mean," Lyra muttered. "Do you have a Bon yourself?"

"Bon...?" Rarity raised an eyebrow, perplexed by the question.

"Ah... sorry. I meant, somepony who stops you from losing yourself too deeply," Lyra hid her embarrassment under the guise of a nervous laughter. "You know, someone who argues with you, shouts at you... gets you to stop. Talks to you. Gets your mind off the impending deadline."

"Talks to me? Gets my mind off the matter? Haha... no, I don't think so," Rarity shook her head. Her half-hearted laughter was the most she could squeeze out, and it did nothing to offset the sour look on her face. "Most ponies I know wouldn't really understand me. They would tell me to take a step back, to 'act reasonably'... but they wouldn't try to come around and see things from my point. They wouldn't get the dream behind my obsession. I thought Sweetie Bell might... but she refuses to. I used to try and talk to her about it, but she's young and doesn't even try to understand me. She just wants and wants and wants."

"She thinks you're neglecting her," Lyra pieced the puzzle together. She could remember going through the same argument with Bon. Several times, in fact. It had never helped either of them, either.

"That she does," Rarity furrowed her forehead. "Now that I think about it, we've always ended up shouting at each other every time we've talked for a while now."

"You're being overloaded," Lyra glanced at the mannequins again. "I understand living for a dream... but dreams-"

Loud banging interrupted the melancholic tea party. All three at the table turned to the cause: a young filly was making her way among the mannequins, angrily shoving them to the side whenever she got near them.

"What-!" Rarity came to first, and turned to the newcomer with a mixture of shock and anger. "Sweetie Bell, what is the meaning of this?"

THAT is Sweetie Bell? Lyra felt her jaw drop. Isn't she, like, really young? Doesn't look like a usual friendship at all!

She then planted a hoof straight into her forehead and dragged it down, the horseshoe scraping against fur and skin.

They're not just friends! They're family... ugh, and I really thought I've been there! she groaned internally. That's a million ways worse than my story with Bon!

"I'm leaving! I'm sick of living in a cloth-factory!" Sweetie Bell yelled and pushed another mannequin away. The statue flipped over and crashed onto the floor; its head broke off and rolled in circles. "I'm going to live at Bloom's place! Where ponies, you know, care about each other!"

"You can't do that!" Rarity sprang into action, moving to intercept the little runaway.

"Watch me," Sweetie Bell hissed through clenched teeth. She proceeded to dart towards the door, only to be lifted into the air by a raspberry magic aura. She didn't enjoy the intervention; her legs kept moving back and forth even mid-air, and her screaming transcended to a whole new level of volume and irritation. "LET GO! YOU CAN'T STOP ME! THIS IS FOALNAPPING! HELP! MY SISTER'S FOALNAPPING ME!"

"I don't think that word means what she thinks it means," Snowy cocked her head to the side.

"You know, I totally envy your ability to misunderstand the obvious," Lyra moved her hoof to the side of her head. She had been divided on her options before; but after that scene, she felt rather certain in her decision. "Anyway, hop to it, Snowy. We're solving this."

"Oh? How?" Snowy perked her ears. It was a largely cosmetic movie; despite the loud screaming right next to them, master and servant had no issues understanding the words of each other.

"Let's start out by making this couturier a little less obsessed," Lyra made a wry frown. She lifted her hooves to cover her ears; the argument unfolding next to her having reached ear-splitting levels. "Those nobles have wardrobes larger than my house anyway - surely they have other outfits they can wear. So let's just make everypony forget Rarity had to work on these, m'kay?"

"Every pony?" Snowy flinched at the request. She clearly had misgivings, but had no objection worthy of speaking out loud. "I... suppose that's well-defined. In a way..."

"Thought so," Lyra muttered. She closed her eyes and turned away; she had just watched Sweetie Bell take a saddlebag off and slam it over Rarity's head. It didn't look like something that hurt - not physically, anyway. Feelings were always more fragile, however. "And, uh... could you work on the animosity between these two? Like, make them forget about their arguments?"

"Maybe... but is that wise, Master?" Snowy gulped; the increasingly daring requests made her anxious. "All the arguments might also involve ones that are important to them for reasons."

"Then just this one," Lyra shrugged.

Snowy kept eyeing her master for a second longer, but daren't speak out any further. She focused, the blue outlines of her body twisting as if she had muscles flexing underneath the transparent skin... then her magic kicked in.

Lyra couldn't see any of that. The world disappeared from around her; every light became intense, so intense that she couldn't see anything but the extreme whiteness. The voices - even the loud argument next to her - became a buzz, monotone and distant. She couldn't feel directions either; she lost the innate sense that told her which way was up. All accompanied by a sharp, head-splitting pain that came from nowhere and now sat in the front of her skull, just a little behind her eyes.

Then the sensation left, just as abruptly as it had come. Her senses returned and she found herself drooling onto the floor, lying flat on her side with her mouth open.

Wha- what on Equestria was that!

"Lyra? Hey, Lyra? Dearie, are you all right?"

A pony appeared in the corner of her vision. She dragged her eyes to the figure, and the head gained distinguishing features; it was Rarity looking down at her.

C'me on girl, get up, Lyra pushed herself to gather her strength. You definitely don't wanna' make a scene here.

"I'm... fine," she groaned and pulled her hooves back under her, all ready to get up. Her balance was returning fast; only the odd sense of nausea proved lasting. "I'm just... I had a light breakfast, haha."

"I did warn Master about eating all those things," Snowy grumbled in the background, wholly ignored by everypony in the room.

"I'm sorry to say dear, but it serves you right... walking around with that injury," Rarity frowned, then used her magic to help Lyra back up. "You're really ought to be more careful, all right?"

"Ah, well, I-" Lyra grimaced and rubbed her temple with a hoof. Even she had no idea what had just happened - though she was sure it had nothing to do with the stitches in her shoulder.

"Hey, sis?"

Both unicorns turned to the filly standing a few steps behind them, right next to the doorway.

"I'm going to AJ's," Sweetie Bell announced without much fanfare.

"Ah... right. That's right... you've told me you might..." Rarity squinted. She turned around and paused, scratching the back of her head. She was clearly confused by the lots of mannequins in the dresses she had no reason to do... and by the countless arguments with her sister, all which she had no reason to enter. "I'm sorry dear, I think I had a glitch just now... I... sure, we can go to Sweet Acres if that's what you want."

"Okay, I'll-" Sweetie Bell pushed the door open, then flinched back instead of walking out. "-wait, we?"

"But of course! Unless you mind me accompanying you, that is. I mean, we haven't done much together lately... so now seems like a good time to start catching up," Rarity paced towards her sister, though her warm smile was tempered by the utter confusion still lurking beneath her words. "I only wonder what I've been doing so far... what's with all these dresses?"

"Who cares about those dresses!" Sweetie Bell bounced back from the door. She darted to Rarity and grabbed onto the curly mane, dragging the larger unicorn along with her. "If you want to come- if you really want to come- then come! Ah, I was so hoping you'd understand me!"

"Yeah, I understand," Rarity muttered. She looked numb as she walked past the mannequins, clearly wrecking her mind over their purpose. The lingering doubts didn't stop her from following Sweetie Bell though, and the two of them disappeared through the doorway soon enough.

"They simply left us here," Snowy cocked her head to the side. "So... are we the ones selling dresses to customers now? Does that make us the owners of this store? Or employees, at least?"

"It makes us put the tea set away and lock the door," Lyra shambled forward. There was no sense of accomplishment over the heartfelt resolution to the family feud; her utter headache sapped her dry. And that was without touching on the larger issues at hoof, like how Snowy's magic had actually hurt her all of a sudden.

I need to ask that librarian on this, Lyra decided as she collected the cups from the table.
> 20 - Goodwill
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Source grinned in the cover if its robe.

Lyra had just left Carousel Boutique. She looked quite worn, and was befittingly careless; though it made little difference, as she couldn't possibly have seen the hooded figure observing her. Neither could she hear the comments made at her expense.

"Well, well, well! Aren't you quite the interesting case."

The Source had taken a liking to this player, there was no denying it. By all rational calculations, Lyra Heartstrings was to be taken aback by their previous encounter. Ominous threats on the price of cheating, pointing out the dubious morality of her actions; a speech that had been carefully designed to inspire doubt, to undermine the reasons behind her actions.

It was a proven method. It had worked pretty well with most players before, after all.

Apparently not always, though... since there was Lyra leaving the Carousel Boutique, shortly after she had performed her largest brain-washing so far.

That was interesting.

"Not even the Princess was so quick to defy me. And she was all-powerful, fearing me a lot less than you always have," the Source mused out loud. "So where did this initiative of yours come from, I wonder? Just what is driving you? Did you always have this bravery - just wasted it for years, stuck in your peaceful profession? Or are you this stupid, thinking you can get away with all this mischief - despite my warnings?"

The hooded game master hummed to itself. It quite liked the conundrum this player - this subject - presented. This musician, this Heartstrings, was a true wildcard. Pure and unrefined unpredictability, the flavour the Source had always loved. Far better than the monotone single-mindedness the other players displayed. 

The Source couldn't help but revel in that strangeness, and everything about Lyra had been strange so far, right from the very base. It was quite rare to see a boring career musician turn into a harbinger of chaos, after all.

"This change... I wonder if it's only because your shackles are out of the way," the Source mused as Lyra and Snowy walked past it, the pair blissfully unaware of its presence. "It's not like you changed into another person, so you probably had these desires for a very long time. They were just made dormant by the lack of your abilities. But then I gave you power. Set you free. Unleashed you."

The Source recalled the ways Lyra rationalized her actions. Setting the windigo free, making her accepted. Helping others, even when they had never asked. Pitiful reasons, all of them; a far cry from the other top candidates, who were all vying to get the entire world into their grasp. 

She wasn't as pitiful as the most disappointing subjects either, though. She hadn't turned the windigo into a travelling attraction, for one.

As far as the Source could tell, Lyra had chosen a middle ground. Or rather: she hadn't been forced to pick one of the two extremes so far.

"You clearly want to make a difference," the Source spoke to the cyan unicorn - but Lyra walked by, hanging her head and grumbling about a headache. "You have learnt to shy away from extremes, though; and that gives birth to your contradictory self. You fear me, yet use my power. You want to better the world, yet you are afraid of changing it too much. You've made a compromise."

The Source hummed. That was a sound theory. It easily could have been the case. It would have been nice if it were indeed to be the case.

A toothy grin flashed under the hood. The Source liked this challenge.

After having dealt with countless other players, it had found easy ways to put such theories to test.

"All I have to do is cut the rest of the binds holding you back," it rubbed its chin slowly, thoughtfully. "It will be painful... but putting you under stress is something I was planning on doing anyway."

The Source was not interested in sugar-coated masks, after all; only the raw deal underneath. All living creatures had this annoying trait... they clung to their learnt personas, revealing their true nature only when they felt they had nothing to lose. Thusly, all the players that showed potential had to be brought to the brink of ruin.

So to set that Heartstrings free from her wordily ties, it would be necessary to take everything away from her.

"It's not like you couldn't have seen this coming," the Source cackled and turned around, heading in the other direction. "I told you, didn't I? Cheaters get their comeuppance... you've got no rights to complain."





"I'm deeply sorry," Snowy apologized for the umpteenth time, then ploughed through a very corporeal pony by accident. She didn't give the collision any mind, apart from turning into mist for a brief moment and reforming in the next. "I'm not sure what happened back there, but-"

"Hush," Lyra growled under her nose. The nausea and the headache were letting up, but she still wasn't feeling all too well. She was, however, getting increasingly annoyed by the incessant stream of apologies. She had no way to protest either - not in the open street.

"Master, we still don't have a real grasp on how my abilities work. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that Master has experienced a backlash," Snowy picked the finest moment to rebel, resuming her chat despite Lyra's wishes to the contrary.

Lyra rolled her eyes and snorted loudly.

"We need to hurry to a real magician exactly because we don't know what has happened back there," she explained - seemingly to herself, as far as anypony on the street could tell. "I need advice and I need it before any other lingering effects could kick in."

"Lingering effects?" Snowy balked as she lunged over a lonesome cart. "Master believes there could be more...?"

"I'm only sure about not having any ideas about what's going on," Lyra grumbled, then flashed a toothy grin at a random stranger who seemed to have picked up on her comment. "Ah, sorry! Just wondering aloud. Good day to you too... eh."

"That better not be the case," Snowy gasped and fell behind, so lost in her worries that she couldn't keep up with the - admittedly slow - pace. "Should anything happen to Master, I-"

"Nothing's gonna' happen," Lyra huffed and took the left at the intersection. She could see the finish-line; the street lead directly to the humongous tree-library. 

Never had an oversized tree looked so beautiful in her eyes. 

"We go there, get myself inspected, and everything's going to be fine. Oh - and put a zip on it, all right? I don't need Twilight to think me crazier than I already am."

Darting at full speed to reclaim her place at her master's side, Snowy nodded in silence.





A cyan hoof slammed against the Golden Oak's two-parter door. The move was anything but courteous, for Lyra wasn't checking if anypony was home; she was announcing her arrival and that she was going inside, regardless of any circumstance. She wouldn't have bothered with even that much, had she gone along with her original plan... but she was depending on the goodwill of Twilight Sparkle, so she couldn't exactly just storm the place to make demands.

She wasn't that desperate. Not yet.

The loud bangs were still ringing in her ears when she grabbed the door and tore it open. She moved inside with the same haste, yelling at the top of her lungs, not giving the world any chance to interrupt her.

"I'M LOOKING FOR TWILIGHT SPARKLE! IT'S REALLY URGENT SO IF I... could..."

She stammered off, blinked in confusion, then giggled nervously. The feeling of utter shame had only caught up to her at that point, but she immediately felt like digging herself a hole on the spot.

The aforementioned librarian was less than twenty steps away from her, staring at her in utter confusion. Joining in the game of 'have-no-idea' was Rainbow Dash, the usually impulsive pegasus looking as similarly befuddled as her friend.

Oh my everything, Lyra gulped. Her momentum only carried her for two more steps, after which she came to a halt. Despite the sea of worries that had bothered her just minutes ago, her mind was remarkably empty; she couldn't find a single word she felt like saying. She had trouble finding a few wayward thoughts, even. Apart from that recurring one.

Girl, you're irrecoverably stupid.

From the three ponies, only Dash moved. She was just as shocked as the other two, but she was the only one uninvolved; so she stared at Lyra, then at Twilight, then back at Lyra... repeating the same circle endlessly, hoping one of the two parties would start explaining just what in Celestia's name she had witnessed.

She had to wait for quite a while.

"Uh... hi, Lyra," Twilight finally broke the silence. She also had the mind to user her magic and close the door which had been left open. "So, uh, I think you've found me...?"

"Er... yeah," Lyra gulped. She stood perfectly still, too nervous to even twitch about. The moment she started speaking the floodgates opened up; her mind, empty a mere moment ago, was now filled with the urge to scream and run away. Another part of her was unwilling to compound her idiocy with an even worse step however, so she held firm and uttered the most neutral phrases she could think of. "I see you... already have a visitor. So I'll just, uh... stand in the queue... back there..."

She didn't give the other two ponies any chance to respond. She turned around and moved to the farthest bookshelf, practically squeezing her head among the books. That felt like satisfying both her needs: those of eventually talking to the magician and not showing her face in that library. For, like, forever.

"You know this loon?" Dash motioned at the musician.

"We've talked once," Twilight grimaced and scratched the side of her head. "Is that a yes?"

"Think so," Dash turned away, forcing a less confused expression with a sigh. "Seriously! What's with everypony lately?"

"You mean, you saw other ponies behave oddly?" Twilight picked up the trail of thought. "Maybe it's an epidemic! I've read how easily water supplies can get contaminated... I could take samples! And by that I mean Spike could take samples, then-"

"Stop doing science to our water," Dash put a hoof straight in Twilight's face.

"You have absolutely no idea what I'm proposing, do you?" Twilight pushed the hoof away. She did not look too amused by the off-the-hoof dismissal.

"Tubes and indicators and Bunsen-lights and boring stuff that nopony but you cares about," Dash rolled her eyes - and her head, in case the notion wasn't clear enough on its own. "Also, I'm not talking about, like, an epidemic. All I'm saying is that I ran into Applenut this morning, and she was also pretty funny."

The name made Lyra jump, quickly followed by a pained wheeze. She had forgotten how close the other shelf was, and of course bumped her head into it. She had rocked the shelf hard enough to make the heavy tomes above her jump, the loud noise making her pull her head away in panic. She would have needed a lot of new bandages had all that stuff fallen on her.

"Funny, you say... exactly what do you mean by funny?" Twilight hummed, her muzzle resting on her hoof. She didn't get to keep her thinking-pose too long; a blue hoof touched her head and gave her a push, sending her tumbling to the side. "HEY!"

"Did Celestia ever tell you that you're like, easily distracted?" Dash pulled the hoof back and held it to her forehead. "I was here first, so my problems come first! Talking of which, you were like, promising me a few books just now."

Observing the scene from the distant bookshelf, Lyra broke into a quiet giggle. She found it really hard to imagine Dash going through pages and pages of text. She also found smiling to be really hard, owing to her throbbing head. 

"Ah, right! Yeah, I was thinking I would - hey! I'm not easily distracted!" Twilight sprang to protest, glaring angrily at the blue pegasus. Her fury didn't last though, and she was back to browsing a thin book - most likely an inventory - in short order. "Anyway, I was thinking I could give you a few good novels. I mean, I could give you a good book on psychology, but I don't want to give your PTSD ideas. Wouldn't want to regress a stage, right?"

"PTS... what? Regress what now?" Dash blinked and chuckled nervously. "I was like, only asking you to help me prepare for the exam! Don't want to, like, have a twitchy face right at the end... you know what photo finish is, right?"

Wait, wait, wait! Timeout! Lyra recovered in an instant, pulling her head from beneath her hooves. Didn't Dash say she was an athlete or something, back at the doctor? And she was having issues with some exam, because she was so nervous. Because she, uhhh...

"And I'm doing just that: helping you," Twilight explained in the most soothing tone a librarian could hit. "I know you like Daring Do, so I'm giving you a few more novels you'll also like. See? I'm helping!"

"As if I would have time - heeeey, wait a sec! Novels? Are you like, trying to distract me from the exam?" Dash snorted and gave Twilight a stinky look. "Not cool, Twi. Absolutely not cool. I thought you wanted to help me!"

"I am helping you! Or I would be, if you would just listen to me!" Twilight protested. She switched to a more abrasive tone - the accusation must have hurt. "Your only problem is that you're too preoccupied with a few bad memories! You'd do splendid if you could just let go of them! At this point, the biggest favour you could do yourself is not preparing any further!"

Oh, that thing. Yeah, right - now I remember, Lyra nodded. An idea took shape in her mind, gaining more traction with every passing moment she spent thinking about it. She peeked to her side; Snowy was almost next to her, entraining herself by reading the book covers.

Lyra watched the windigo and gulped. She knew she was about to do something stupid - again - , but she couldn't help herself.

Dash is having exactly the kind of problem I could help with. I should do something, huh? I mean, this is a chance, right? It would be cowardly to shy away after just one bad experience! I mean, apart from Rarity, we've never had issues with Snowy's power before... I was absolutely fine when we practised with the magazines, and I only got a mild headache at the bank, too. Yeah, that's right - it's two against one!

"Psst... Snowy."

The windigo popped her head up and looked at her master, her eyes betraying curiosity and excitement. Which, for some reason, had only served to make Lyra feel like groaning.

Wish I was that easily amused! Well... at least one of us is having fun.

"Go help Dash," she whispered as faintly as she could, giving a barely visible nod at the pegasus.

"What? Master, we've come here exactly because my powers may be dangerous!" Snowy cried out; with nopony hearing her, she didn't need to put any effort into keeping herself hidden.

After the minutes of quietness, the loud voice made Lyra's eyes tear.

"Ow! Ow, ow, ow...." she whimpered and rubbed her ears. She needed a little time before she could hear her own voice over the ringing noise. She daren't speak before that, as she had no idea how loud she was talking. She didn't want to risk yelling by accident. Her arrival was more than enough embarrassment for a day. "Yeah, we'll get to that! But do this first, okay? As a, uh, final test. Just make Dash forget about all her bad memories regarding athletics. One pony isn't a big deal, right?"

"Very well. As Master decrees," Snowy growled. Her disapproval was clear as day, but that didn't stop her from complying. Her colours flashed with vigour and dimmed out, the change so rapid that Lyra could barely pick up on it.

More importantly, she didn't feel anything. No splitting headache, no fainting, no nausea - no nothing. That was a truly reassuring development; she really needed some positive reinforcement. She had started having some serious doubts after the incident at the Carousel Boutique.

"Forget it!" Dash broke into an indignant snort.

That brought Lyra out of her self-analysis. She wasn't expecting such an energetic response right off the bat. Every other pony affected by Snowy had displayed a degree of confusion so far.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything bad!" Twilight cried out, still trying to mitigate the fallout. "I can also give you that medical handbook on psychology if you want!"

"Pffft. You implying something, Twi? That's for like, ponies who have issues," Dash cackled. She yanked her head so her mane flipped to the other side, a toothy grin plastered across her face. The way she looked; that very moment, she could have been the poster pony for self-confidence. "Why would I need anything like that? I'm perfect. Seriously Twi, I've never done anything lame in my entire life. Psychology... hahaha! I wonder why I even came here! I should be out there, getting the most perfect tricks done!"

She'd barely finished the sentence when she took off. It was the most aggressive take-off Lyra had ever seen pegasus do; Dash accelerated from a standstill to a blurry line in the span of a few metres, the performance crowned by her exiting through the wall.

Ohh...kay? So I wasn't really expecting that, Lyra stared at the pony-sized hole in the Golden Oak's thick trunk. She looked plenty confident though, so... another happy customer, I suppose...

"What. The. Heck!" Twilight came to a little while later, finally gathering enough of her wits to shake the numb bewilderment off. "She was absolutely correct! Everypony has gone crazy today!"

"Yeah," Lyra muttered the only word she possibly could, the hole in the wall still holding all of her attention.

"I thought she would be more careful," Snowy remarked. She was also staring at the hole, wearing the same baffled expression the other two ponies had. "I distinctly remember the Doctor telling Miss Dash that she may explode. Now, I may not be up-to-date on healthcare, but I'm quite sure that going through walls won't help with that condition one bit!"

Lyra's hooves touched her face after a high-speed manoeuvre.

You're really just tempting me to order you to forget about that hack now, aren't you?!





"I don't get it! She comes here, asks for my help, then ridicules me and dusts off! Does she need to feel superior, is that her problem?!" Twilight slammed the inventory ledger closed. The move mirrored how she felt: angry and frustrated. "And she still keeps ramming through walls!"

Still at the distant bookshelf, Lyra reacted to the tantrum appropriately; she shrunk a few sizes and wished she could turn invisible.

"What is she thinking, how will I explain another hole to Celestia? Dear Celestia, I need some additional funds to repair the library again! No, I'm still not experimenting with some forbidden magic that blasts holes into metre-thick obstacles! ARGH!" Twilight raged. She shook her hoof at the clouds - which were only visible through the hole in the wall of her library.

"Um... Master? Are we still going to ask that pony? It doesn't seem like a good time," Snowy asked the very question that had also popped up in her master's head.

Lyra hadn't arrived at a definite answer, but was leaning towards an unsteady 'no' herself. She would have gotten up and gone home too, were she daring to make herself a target by moving around.

Twilight rendered the whole issue moot, however. She yanked her head away from the hole, and pointed a hoof at the shuddering musician.

"You!" she yelled, striking a tone that mimicked the warlords of long forgotten eras. "You were looking for me, weren't you? So just why did you barge in on me, ha?! Out with it!"

"I... haha, I, uh..." Lyra recoiled at the verbal onslaught. "I... don't even know... I think I'll just... come back later?"

"You too, huh?" Twilight huffed like an angered buffalo, narrowing her eyes to complete her proper war stance. "What makes you ponies think it's fun to ask me and then leave before I had a chance to answer?!"

Whoa! She has a pretty thin skin for being like, the second best magician in Equestria, Lyra reminded herself, though the realization brought her little comfort. Quite the opposite, in fact. HOLY CELESTIA, I'VE JUST PISSED OFF THE SECOND BEST MAGICIAN IN EQUESTRIA!

"Wai- wait! I remember! I totally remember now!" she broke into the quickest apology of her life. Balancing on her hind legs, she used both her front hooves to wave defensively - a motion she reserved for when she really wanted to surrender. "Ahaha! No need to get angry, yes? We're all happy ponies here, right?"

The move wasn't quite as effective as Lyra had imagined. Twilight stared at the musician with her mouth hanging open, her left eyebrow twitching; she looked completely weirded out. On the upside, she seemed to have forgotten about her anger at the same time.

"All happy... well, yeah, I guess..." Twilight looked away and held a hoof in the air, blocking out the weirdo from her vision. "Uh, Lyra? Could you please stand normally now? You're looking... well, pretty freaky."

Lyra's first action was to comply with the order. Then she grimaced and clenched her teeth.

Nopony appreciates this! she huffed to herself. Do you even know how difficult it is, balancing on two? I've spent years perfecting this thing!

"Thanks," Twilight pulled her hoof back, massaging the top of her head. "Oh - and sorry about that. I was a little startled, so I think I overreacted a little."

"Don't worry! Happens every single time I try it," Lyra waved a hoof and cackled, appearing just as calm and care-free as she was not. Still, if the librarian-magician was happy, then so was she.

"Like that was an excuse," Twilight frowned and tapped herself on the top of her head. "I'm not going to learn much about friendship if I keep freaking out whenever somepony acts crazy."

"Pfft. I think you should only worry when the crazy starts seeming natural," Lyra rolled her eyes and finally allowed herself to relax in earnest. "This whole town is like a nexus for strange. Seriously, I saw our baker fly around with some contraption the other day."

She didn't say the bit that bothered her the most about that experience.

And ponies still say that I'm the crazy one!

"I feel you. You know, I wanted to refute you... right until you brought Pinkie up," Twilight groaned and wrinkled her eyebrows. Disapprovingly. Very, very disapprovingly. "She shatters all my scientific beliefs as if- uh, sorry, going off on a tangent there. Have I already asked what you've come for? Need some more help for your novel?"

It took Lyra a few seconds to realize what novel Twilight was talking about. 

"Ah... well, yeah!" she cackled loudly, belying the fact that she had completely forgotten about that throwaway lie.

"Good," Twilight sighed. She relaxed - and immediately looked a lot wearier. Even her voice deepened a few octaves. "I could use some theoretical discussion on magic right now."

Yeah... theoretical, Lyra kept smiling inanely. I'm really digging this hole, aren't I?

"I'm glad I'm not bugging you or anything!" she hit a reassuring tone; a rather easy job for a pony with some classes in acting. "So I was writing this story, and I, uh... I thought to myself, 'this memory-erasing stuff is sure convient'. So I was like, shouldn't I give it a few drawbacks? Make it difficult to use, you know. Otherwise this pon- I mean, villain would simply take over the whole world, right?"

"Haha! I see where you're coming from," Twilight chuckled. Her face smoothed out; the idea entertained her greatly by the looks of it.

Whoa! She wasn't joking when she said she enjoys talking about magic, Lyra gawked at the sudden shift of mood.

"But no. Transmutation isn't a simple magic - especially when you want to transmute something intangible," Twilight sank into her thoughts. Her eyes went glassy as her tone grew warmer; she was feeling at home in the topic, no doubt. "Downside... well, that would be the cost of the magic. Bending reality to your will isn't a simple process, so a difficult magic will always be a draining one. That's why it's exhausting to use magic - and the fatigue can really vary on the extreme, from exhaustion to outright death. You could think of it as paying the toll for breaking nature's laws. For example, an ordinary rock was never supposed to be a golden coin... so if you transmute one into another, you will have to appease nature for breaking the rules. Well, it's the same with thoughts!"

Lyra tried her best to keep up with the explanation, and had succeeded with some delay. An odd sense of deja vu struck her; she could have sworn she had heard something like that before. What Twilight said almost sounded like that other piece of advice...

"So you're saying that magic is basically cheating - and that cheaters will pay their... due..."

The last word barely managed getting past her lips. Lyra felt her headache return; she only realized whom she was quoting by the end of the sentence. 

She didn't like how that ominous nonsense started to make sense all of a sudden.

It wasn't just an idle threat, she ran her tongue across her lips, the smooth skin dried by her hastening panting. It wasn't even a threat. It was an explanation! I just... didn't understand it...

"Paying nature for cheating? Hahaha... that's an interesting way to put it! I've never thought of it that way... but yeah! Why not?" Twilight laughed and threw a wink at the musician. "I should talk to aspiring writers more often! That's a very apt analogy, now that I think about it!"

"Yeah... very apt," Lyra mumbled, then forced her attention back to the conversation at hoof. "And that's it? Only exhaustion? There's no other effect? No backlash?"

"I'm going to have to disappoint you! There's nothing else. Nothing you would see in fiction anyway! No blood running from the nose, no coughing up blood, no strange visits from otherworldly creatures, no hastened aging. Nothing freaky like those," Twilight massacred all the popular tropes she could think of. "Though when you think about it, casting a very powerful spell will put your life at risk - so most magicians will need to be very careful already. Your villain for example? The one erasing thoughts?"

Lyra perked her ears and cocked her head up. She was about to hear what she had come for, so she shoved all the murky thoughts aside; there was nothing there that she couldn't deal with later.

"Well, that magic isn't completely unheard of. It's a rare breed though - very rare. It's a very demanding magic... risky magic," Twilight explained and turned to a window - to the one with the grey silhouette of Canterlot. "As far as I know, Lun- Princess Luna is the only who makes use of it on a regular basis. And I think the only reason she gets away with it is that she's a living goddess, so she couldn't be harmed by the.... well, associated costs."

Why do I have the feeling she's talking from experience, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows, but cast the nagging suspicion away almost immediately. So only exhaustion, huh? How strange... I'm pretty sure I wasn't exhausted back there.

She glanced down, at her hooves; the same hooves which had failed her at Rarity's place, leaving her gasping on the floor. She wasn't sure what she had felt back there, but it certainly wasn't exhaustion.

Talking of which, she hadn't been exhausted during her other attempts at erasing memories either. She always had been fine. Or mostly fine, anyway.

Something doesn't add up, she bit onto her lip, hoping the pain would help to contain her growing unease. Could Twilight be wrong? Nah... she's Celestia's student, after all. But what she described just now... that doesn't match Snowy's stuff whatsoever.

Biting onto her lip further, Lyra felt the crimson taste of blood enter her mouth. A worthy sacrifice, for that had prevented her from breaking into an unnecessarily detailed curse. She wasn't happy to accept that not even the fabled Sparkle could help her.

"Thanks," she squeezed the word out her mouth. It didn't seem to roll off her tongue as easily.

"Eh, no need to thank me. In fact, I kind of hoped you'd throw a few more oddities at me," Twilight raised her eyebrows and made a sigh full of melancholy. "I won't lie - Dash has left me all kinds of befuddled, confused and well... angry. Heh. It's going to be a long day, coping with that. I'm not really good at just getting over that kind of stuff."

"Oh," Lyra mumbled, then looked at Snowy on reflex. The windigo must have understood the cue, for she also turned around and looked back at her master, shaking her head in a clear notion.

I know what you're thinking, and I think you're crazy for thinking about it. Seriously - don't do it!

"Yeah, well... look at me! I'm rambling, haha! I shouldn't be doing that!" Twilight knocked a hoof against the top of her head. "Ah, I'm still no good at this friend thing. I mean, I guess this is why Celestia sent me here, to learn about it... but it can be frustrating, you see? I wish I had something to cheer me up at the least. Like a few more questions."

That hint carried all the subtlety of a free-falling block of concrete; there was no way Lyra couldn't get it. The musician was, however, out of questions. She had already learnt more than she had hoped she would, in fact.

The request did get her thinking, however.

Something to cheer her up...

She remembered the previous time she had been to the Golden Oak; how Twilight had complained that she had already read all the books in the small library.

Oh-ho!

Lyra's lips curled into a smirk. She had had a blast reading the same magazines over and over, back when she was testing Snowy's abilities for the first time. Why wouldn't the same trick work for another pony as well?

A few books surely couldn't hurt. I mean, that's like a drop in a sea, right? Lyra ran her eyes down the rows and rows of books around her. I've gotta' be really careful about the selection, though. If I pick something about magic, I might cause problems. Uhh... what would be a safe read for Twilight to repeat...

After brief deliberation, she arrived at the same choice that Twilight had offered to Dash: light novels. Those always carried about zero connection to reality anyway; there couldn't have been anything in them that would pose a serious risk to erase.

"Snowy," Lyra whispered, faintly enough so that Twilight couldn't overhear. "Daring Do. The whole series."

"Master's wish is my will," Snowy grumbled. She was clearly not into the idea but complied anyway, evident by the brief flash she emitted. "I earnestly hope Master understands that I would never forgive myself should I hasten Master's demise."

Lyra responded to the complaint with an angered glare, but let the issue slide on a second thought. Snowy had always been overly protective of her; that was, in fact, one of the traits she had hoped to hammer out of the windigo. She may have been frustrated about the lack of progress, but they hadn't been together for so long. She shouldn't have expected so much in the first place.

"Sorry, but I don't really have anything more to ask!" she laughed and scratched the mane at the back of her head. "Maybe next time?"

"Sure thing," Twilight nodded sombrely, then waved a hoof at the musician. "Be sure to send the script my way, by the way! I'm really looking forward to reading your novel... before anypony else gets to, hehe."

"Ah... you'll be the first one to see it. Other than me, of course!" Lyra laughed and promptly turned away, hoping that her nervousness didn't show. "Just... dial your expectations to the correct level, okay? I mean, you really shouldn't expect a Daring Do from me, hahaha!"

"But Master isn't even writing a novel... only a diary," Snowy muttered as she hopped to Lyra's side, following her master to the door. "Or is Master really publishing her diary, after all?"

"Yeah, no. This freaking novel is another thing I'll need her to forget about," Lyra hissed and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Snowy, this is a perfect example why you should never lie."

"Seems a rather inconsequential lesson if we can just make ponies forget about the whole issue," Snowy mumbled. "I have this funny feeling that Master's actions are undermining her own lessons."

Unable to retort with anything, Lyra snorted loudly and steeled her gaze in front of her, avoiding the creature at her side.





All the visitors had left the Golden Oak, leaving only a thoroughly puzzled Twilight Sparkle behind.

"Daring... Do. That sounds familiar... somehow?" she stuttered. She pushed a hoof to the side of her head; but no matter how much she wracked her mind, she couldn't recall anything about that title. Even so, it sounded so familiar! As if she should have known about it, for some reason.

She was sure it wasn't Lyra's passing-by comment where she had first heard about it.

"Where?" she shook her head and walked to a shelf with wavering, confused steps. "I'm sure I've... heard of it before? But where...?"

Her head hanging to the side, she leaned to a random shelf and began sorting through the books with a crazed haste.

Where?!





Lyra cracked the door open with utmost care and peeked inside. She knew Bon was home already, for she had seen the light filtering from the windows. That really made her want to keep a low profile. The sun had already began setting; she was obviously running late.

She found the corridor deserted. Only two saddlebags were hanging from the rack, swaying lazily in the mild air currents.

Talking about the rack...

The note I'd left is gone, Lyra licked her lip as she tip-toed inside, locking the door in complete silence. So Bon's really home. Eeeeh... fun. Oh well! I'm set as long as I can get to my room unseen.

She couldn't help but feel like being a filly again, sneaking into her room past curfew. 

"Are we infiltrating this place too, now? Are we in trouble again?" Snowy balked at their silent arrival. "Had Master not stated a dislike in misleading others, I would have no issues believing her to be one of the hashishin."

Lyra stopped to give the windigo a quick glimpse. 

Oi! How did you get from 'sneaking into my room' to 'being a hitmare'?!

Snowy didn't quite get the hint, though; she stared at her master with an excited grin, beaming with pride.

Lyra weighed her chances against such wilful ignorance. She knew a lost battle when she saw one; so she gave up, silently walking away with her head shaking.

I have the feeling somepony's going to be terribly disappointed when I go back to playing music all day long, she smirked wryly.

Compared to the delusion of her being an assassin, Snowy was in for a surprise when she went back to work. Her life wasn't all that interesting when she was always in meetings and rehearsals. She only hoped the windigo would tolerate boredom well.

Her side scraping against the wall, she inched forward, paying great care that none of her steps landed on the creaky parts of the floor. She had been living in that house for so very long, she knew every part of it like the horseshoe on the bottom of her hoof. She sneaked across the corridor in that mindbogglingly sluggish pace, traversing ten metres in just under five minutes. Her efforts paid off, however; her room was in reach, and she was yet to give away her presence in any way.

She put her hoof against the door, swallowed anxiously, then pushed. The door creaked lightly and moved out of her way... and Lyra's face turned into a pained grimace.

"Why hello there," Bon waved at her. She was sitting on Lyra's bed, and looked as if she had been waiting patiently for ages. Only her unkempt, flat mane hinted at the true picture.

The clever devil! She slept in my bed! Lyra dropped her mouth in silent admiration. All her sneaking around was useless against such a simple trick.

"So... I'm going to the Carousel Boutique, huh?" Bon spoke in a judgmental ton, flicking Lyra's note around.

"Yeah, well... that happened," Lyra giggled anxiously and scratched her head. "I can explain!"

"The only explanation I will accept is 'and I've also brought a dress for you too'," Bon threw the note away.

Lyra grimaced and buried her face in her hooves.

I really should have seen this one coming, huh?

"I haven't bought anything! The owner had... family issues," she whined from the cover of her hooves. "Besides, it'd have been hard to buy you anything anyway! You've been working so much lately, I've barely seen you! I thought we were on a vacation or something-!"

She bit onto her tongue and shut up. That outburst wasn't among her plans - it had just slipped her tongue, somehow.

"Work? I've... oh, haha! I see, I see!" Bon burst into a lighthearted laughter. She lunged off the bed and dashed to Lyra, wrapping a hoof around the unicorn's neck. "I see why you'd think that, but I've actually prepared a surprise for you."

Lyra blinked in confusion and gave her friend a nervous smile.

"A... surprise? What for?"
> 21 - Limitation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra twisted her neck wildly, intent to free herself from the tight grip. She enjoyed the company, but there was such a thing as too much goodness.

The move worked; Bon's hooves slipped and she fell off, landing on her back with a muffled yelp. She wasn't hurt, only surprised - mostly at the strands of long cyan hair wrapped around her hooves.

"Ow," Lyra commented on the very same scene, rubbing the burning back of her neck. "Ow, ow, owww. Was this the surprise...?"

"Ahaha... haaa? Sorry?" Bon gave a cringe-filled chuckle, waving her legs to get the torn hairs off from them. "I hope it didn't hurt!"

"It only stings when I laugh," Lyra hissed and rolled her eyes. She wanted to say something even snarkier but cold rushed down her neck, alleviating the pain. That was surprising; she was really expecting even more of the pain. She threw a puzzled glimpse over her shoulder, only to see Snowy fiddling at her back.

D'oh! I have a portable fridge! Lyra bumped herself on the head. The soothing coolness made her very comfortable; she couldn't work herself up even at her own stupidity. Mmm... this will be so useful during summer...

"So, the surprise!" she returned to Bon and to the more important topic, her eyes glittering with curiosity. "Did you really get something for me?"

Bon's cringe was overtaken by astonishment. She was clearly not expecting Lyra to just ignore the torn mane like that. Then she gave in with a shrug and played along; who was she to declare what Lyra could and could not forgive in the blink of an eye? Especially when she was the one benefiting from that fickle nature, too.

"None of what you're thinking about right now!" she returned to looking mischievous and reached to pat her friend on the back - only to shy away when she remembered how she had torn from the cyan mane. Try as she might, she just couldn't get over it so fast. "You sure it doesn't hurt...?"

"How can you tell what I'm thinking about?" Lyra cocked her head to the side. The joke was on Bon: whatever she may have guessed, she was bound to be wrong. Lyra was sure she wasn't thinking about anything in those moments. Getting excited never gave her logical side any favours.

"I don't. But I'm sure you're not thinking of this," Bon winked and walked around Lyra, making her way back to the bed. She reached for a pillow and flipped it over, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper underneath.

Okay, I sure wasn't expecting to get a... Lyra eyed the scene with increasing interest. What's that? Is it a picture? Did she commission a picture?

Bon reached out and bit onto the present. The paper unfolded as she lifted it into the air, revealing what seemed like a newspaper - huge white background with lots of text and a few images, all strictly in black and white.

"Eh?"

Mumbling without realizing, Lyra left the realms of interest and entered the state of true bewilderment. Something just wasn't adding up with that image, but she couldn't figure out which part she should be the most distrustful about.

Wait, what? Seriously, what?! Was Bon chasing after a newspaper all this time? 

Bon shuffled closer. She moved slowly, but with reason: she had to be careful that she didn't step onto the bottom end of the dangling newspaper. She only stopped once she was right in Lyra's face.

Lyra gave the earth pony and her quirky present a long, questioning look... then tilted her head wildly to the side. No matter how she looked, the letters at the top would always spell EQUESTRIA DAILY.

Okay? So it's a newspaper, all right. Am I supposed to be impressed? Or is Bon pulling a prank on me?

Bon must have sensed the confusion because she broke into a growl and leaned forward. The paper cracked faintly, smothering Lyra's face.

"Reef!" Bon commanded. She sounded a little garbled; her mouth full of crumbled - and increasingly soggy - paper. Being an earth pony had certain drawbacks during presentations.

"Equestria Daily, standard edition, thurs... day?" Lyra balked, trailing off as soon as she got to the date.

Huh. Wasn't today Wednesday?

"Master! Not that one - the one below!" Snowy pointed a hoof at the largest headline, almost directly below the title which Lyra had read aloud. 


Strange disappearances in the Northern Tundra explained?
Nobles and units of the Guard are suspect!


"Don't tell me..." Lyra felt her jaw drop. She tore the paper from Bon's mouth and dug her face into the article. "Oi! Bon! Did you put our story in the headlines?!"





"Wouldn't want to be Flash Freeze right now... tehehee!" Bon cackled mischievously as she jumped onto the bed. The springs did their job just fine; she bounced back into the air. Gravity was a harsh mistress though, and she crashed onto the mattress after a few, increasingly shallow bounces. "Let's see how popular his stupid resort will now be, ha!"

Lyra cared nothing for the abuse her bed was going through. Her gaze was still glued to the front page, eyes darting back and forth. She was putting all her concentration into reading; she even muttered absent-mindedly, echoing some words at random.

"Is this for real?" she asked once she had reached the last dot. She immediately cast the newspaper aside; there couldn't have been anything in there that could capture her interest that much.

The paper barely settled onto the floor and Snowy was already all over it. She stomped onto a corner, pinning it to the floor, acting as if she had weight or as if the paper could have ran away. Then she leaned close and studied the soup of letters with utter focus.

"Does it look like a fake?" Bon retorted to Lyra with a question of her own.

Lyra had to pause and think about that one. She had no idea how she could tell a fake newspaper from a real one, to be honest; it's not like a few pages of paper were so expensive to print. However, she had the feeling that Bon wasn't going to such lengths just to pull her leg.

"Yeah, it looks like the real deal," she chuckled dryly and paced to the side of her bed. "Apart from being dated for tomorrow, if you catch my drift."

Bon rolled onto her back and snickered, just loudly enough to give an impression of how proud she felt.

"Lyra... do you really think newspapers are printed right at the stand?"

"Of course not. What does-" Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows at the nonsense suggestion. Then the point dawned on her. Slowly and hazily. "...you got an early print, didn't you?"

"I've got friends at Ink&Spot," Bon pointed out in a bored tone. It really wasn't a shocking reveal: with all the freelance jobs she had taken, she had acquaintances at half the companies in a fifty kilometre radius. "It doesn't take much for them to... ehehe, misplace a copy. Especially if I promise I won't let it show up before they start selling them tomorrow."

Lyra acknowledged the fact with a curt nod. That sounded very plausible indeed... but did little to explain the content of the newspaper, however. Then she thought about all the times Bon had been absent from home. She had assumed that her friend had gotten a surprise job - the life of a freelancer was always unpredictable - but the article she had just read gave her a wildly different idea.

"So that's where you've been disappearing to," Lyra squeezed a hoof against her forehead. It was the best she could do, for she couldn't exactly kick Bon out of her bed just so she could hide her stupid face under the blanket. "You've been telling the story to the press."

And I've never even suspected, she cringed, pressing the hoof so firmly that her head began moving backwards. She could have sworn that head was empty, too; she felt all kinds of stupid.

"For all the flak they get, you'd be surprised how careful journalists are," Bon groaned and dropped her legs, spreading out on the bed like an X shaped pancake. "Though I think it'd have been more shocking if they simply let my story air without confirming anything. I mean, I was talking smack of a viscount!"

"I bet! I'm surprised they let this get into print," Lyra chuckled. She stopped punishing herself and removed her hoof. The next problem presented itself immediately afterwards: she had the imprint of a horseshoe on her forehead... which also itched.

"Well, they did tell me to turn to the Guard at first," Bon frowned, then interrupted with a huge yawn. "Only when the officers turned me away did the Daily take interest in the deal."

"It ain't a real story until some authority tries to sweep it under the rug, huh?" Lyra rolled her eyes, rubbing her forehead carefully. "So the Guards were really cohorts with that viscount, huh?"

She didn't give any signs of it, but that felt really vindicating. She had always known that nopony could attempt murders so blatantly. Not without the authorities turning a blind eye. Of course, that official connection may have made her story a few grades more sinister in turn...

"Yeah. I tried to do it by the book at first - you know, reporting the case and asking them officers to look into the dealings of the Dancing Light Lodge," Bon stuck her tongue out with a heavy grimace. "Fat lot of good that did me."

"They shook you off," Lyra sighed sombrely. "I ain't even surprised, for some reason."

"Ha! It seems the world hasn't changed that much after all," Snowy spoke up, all without bothering to take her eyes off the newspaper.

Lyra let that comment slide. It was either that or getting into an argument that could turn her world-view out of alignment. Hearing Bon recount how the Guard had sided with a highly decorated thug was bad enough already; she really didn't need a ghost of outdated moral sensibilities to further hammer the lesson home.

"Yeah, they wouldn't even lift an ear. They could have at least pretended to give a hoot!" Bon cackled, packing as much sarcasm as her tired throat allowed. "But nooo. They invented the most outlandish reasons just get rid of me! They told me some terrorist threatened the upcoming royal wedding, so they had to send every officer and troop to Canterlot. Pffft."

Lyra squeezed her eyes and clenched her teeth. She certainly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but that excuse was too much even for her own stupid self.

"Seriously, just how stupid do they take us be?" Bon shook her head with a groan, kneading the blanket underneath her. "You think anypony would dare and mount an attack on the single best fortification of Equestria? With both the Princesses being there? And the Captain of the Guard. And the Elements of Harmony... and, uh, and whoever else I'm forgetting about. There's no way anypony would be stupid enough to face all of that and think they've got a fighting chance!"

Lyra rubbed her forehead, but not because of the itching any more. She must have pressed it way too strongly earlier, for now the skin burned and tingled.

"Yeah. It'd be like willingly jumping onto a dragon's claws - just because there's no way he could be expecting that," she commented absent-mindedly. Massaging her aching head took priority over a wedding she didn't care about, even in the context of it being a convenient excuse.

"Word! Besides - could they even fit all that military into Canterlot? You'd have troops at every corner... huh, soldiers everywhere!" Bon clapped her hooves together. She then rolled onto her side and gave her friend a sly grin. "Actually, that's not as stupid as it sounds! It would be Shining's grand chance to show off, right? I mean, being a captain is nice and all... but it isn't quite rolling off the tongue like prince would, you get what I'm saying?"

Lyra groaned loudly and flung herself backwards. Only her upper half landed on the bed though, so she only stayed there for moments; she slid down onto the floor as gravity proved superior to her yet again.

"Having fun there?" Bon wriggled to the edge of the bed and peeked down.

Lyra gave a frown for an answer. The landing had ruffled her more delicate features... but she was a lot better once she shoved her mane out of her eyes.

"Hmm! Don't think anything was missing from that article. It was really quite comprehensive," Snowy broke loose from the newspaper. She walked towards her master, but her movement was different from the usual; she was slow, and very obviously distracted.

"You don't sound very satisfied," Lyra noted with a dry tone. The windigo had been eccentric from the get-go, but even she should have celebrated their long overdue revenge on that rotten noble.

"Well... on one hoof, I cannot level any blame at Master for seeking justice," Snowy frowned and glanced back at the newspaper. "But I do hope Master understands that Master has just pulled on the hair of a very dangerous foe."

"I pulled on his hair? Snowy, that bastard made the first move! He tried to murder me, did you forget about that?"Lyra blew up with anger, pointing her hoof accusingly at the troublesome windigo. "So it's not like I'd have much to lose! And since I've nothing to lose, should I feel bad that I've got my retribution? Heck no!"

"Lyraaa," Bon moaned loudly, squeezing her head against the blanket. "You're talking to your ghost agaaain! And it's not making much sense to me! At least narrate what she says!"

"Oh- oh! Sorry about that, haha! It was nothing important anyway," Lyra spun around and gave her friend a nervous, though seemingly light-hearted cackle. "She's just fretting over what the viscount may do to us."

"Haha, really? Wouldn't have thought that your ghost would turn out more responsible than you!" Bon giggled in return. Then she noted the change in Lyra's expression; the musician murmured something under her nose and covered her face under her legs.

"Lyra, it's not fretting if it's a realistic threat."

"Realistic what now?" Lyra jumped alarmed, her lips curling into a thoroughly anxious grin. "Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"You told me he had his goons after you, didn't you?" Bon lifted a leg from her head, using the limb to point accusingly at her friend. "After you fell into that hole, remember?"

"Wishing I could forget the scene ever since," Lyra snickered, images of her nightmares flashing in front of her eyes. "What's that have to do with us, though? We're quite far from that stupid chateau of his, aren't we?"

Bon didn't answer; she dropped her leg to the bed, seemingly intent to let Lyra figure that one out on her own.

"Just what prevents those evildoers from boarding a train, like Master had?" Snowy pointed out in a resignated tone. "They could receive their orders and arrive here a day later."

"Oh-" Lyra gawked. She didn't add anything else; she simply left her mouth hanging. The Northern Tundra had always looked so far away on the map! She had completely forgotten how small the world actually was.

Well... oh crap?

"With that being said, I don't think he would go after you now. It would make huge news if you just disappeared... the Daily would milk that chance as hard as they could," Bon smiled with glassy eyes. She took a pause to stretch her legs, an elongated yawn completing her showcase of how sleepy she was. "I mean... okay, I've asked the colts at the Daily to omit our names for now, but they pretty much know the full story. They're going to keep an eye out for you. It's their chance to make their hot story even hotter, after all!"

"Clever," Snowy whistled in admiration. "No, not just clever. Miss Bon has been a few steps ahead of everypony all along!"

She sure has, Lyra smirked at the level of preparedness. She had a safety net woven underneath her - and she hadn't even realized. Heck, she hadn't even realized how much danger she had been in!

Whoa, wait a sec. If I was in such danger, then-

"What about you?" she turned to Bon. The short-lived enthusiasm was gone from her face, replaced by a darker shade of worry.

"Me?" Bon popped her head up, the question visibly taking her by surprise. She remained like that for a short while, but collected herself fast; she lay back onto the bed, a reassuring smile growing below her nose. "Oh, don't you worry about me. The viscount never even threatened me, and I doubt he would start righting that mistake now. You know, horses and locked barns."

Lyra could have gone with that answer. Could have, had she not gotten suspicious of Bon's happy-go-lucky attitude already. 

"You weren't part of the picture before," she wrinkled her eyebrows, turning her vague fears into words. "You got the story published, Bon. You're an active part of this now!"

"Ah-ha! Well, you've got it all wrong!" Bon snickered and dragged her head into a more comfortable position. "I've been a part of this ever since you got involved. What, did you really think I'd just idly watch you wade through all this? C'me on, you airhead... aren't we friends or something?"





"Night," Bon grumbled under her nose and stumbled into the dark corridor, towards her own room.

Lyra observed the highly undignified departure in silence. It was something she would have normally made fun of, but tonight wasn't the time for such jokes. She shut an eye and squinted at the door; her horn flared up with an amber aura and the door obediently followed her wish, closing with a creak and a faint click. Guaranteed to be alone at last, Lyra allowed herself to indulge in the sinful pleasures of the body. 

She broke into a loud, gurgling yawn, her jaws almost popping off their joints.

So freaking tired, she rubbed her burning, bloodshot eyes. It's already past midnight, isn't it?

Drowsy and drained, she relaxed and let gravity drag her down, straight into the middle of her bed. She didn't bother to get the blanket out of the way; the room was warm enough for her to not need the extra warmth. The bed was also softer this way... even if marginally.

She closed her eyes and breathed in. She felt heavy, extremely heavy; so heavy that she started to sink into the bed-

"Was Master and her friend always like this?"

Grumbling something about Tartarus, Lyra forced her consciousness to make a brief return. 

"For a long while now..." she mumbled, her voice rasp and weak. She may have postponed her sleep, but there was no escape any more; it was only a matter of time before her endurance would run out. "Years..."

"Why?"

"Heck if I know," Lyra groaned and dragged herself forward. A brief rush of cold greeted her, and her head cleared up momentarily - right until her body warmed up that bit of textile as well. "Always been like this. Sometimes I think this is how it was meant to be..."

"Meant to be," the windigo echoed with a distant tone. "Like how I was meant to be this, I wonder?"

"That one's not set in stone," Lyra murmured into the blanket, too tired to even lift her head. Even thinking felt taxing; her head refused any activity, period. She wanted her sleep, and by Celestia's oversaturated mane, she would get it. "Night, Snowy..."

"Not set in stone... I wonder about that," the windigo pondered, somewhere in the distance. "I've watched the world turn on its head, Master. Yet, at the same time, we servants have remained the same. Surely have, I mean. There may be variables... but we seem to be constants."

Are you still yapping?! Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She thought about pulling a pillow over her head, but she didn't feel like moving even that much.

"With that being said, I earnestly hope that Master and Miss Bon are also one of those unchanging constants."

It was a heartfelt wish, but Lyra didn't catch much of it. To her ears, the windigo's voice came from farther and farther away, fading until it was barely more than an easily ignored buzz. Dreamland had gotten a hold of her, and was dragging her away from reality without mercy.

She didn't even wake up when blue light flooded the room. A faint boom rocked the window shortly afterwards - followed by another one, then another.

"Fireworks? Looks like a show, but- heeeyyy, hold on for a minute!" Snowy balked in surprise. She leaped to the window and pressed her face against the glass, the blue detonations reflected in her crimson eyes. "It's got to be them, hasn't it? They mentioned they would be doing a performance... but is that the low profile Origin and Miss Trixie were saying to keep...?"





Lyra dragged herself to the battered remains of a large tree. The trunk which laid in her way had been torn into two long ago, overpowered by the weight of the ice that had frozen to its branches. It wasn't a huge roadblock, maybe ten or twenty hooves in diameter. 

Yet, at that moment, getting across that log felt like scaling a mountain range.

She placed a hoof to the topside and tried to push, to drag herself across... but the icy trunk didn't cooperate with her. Her hoof slipped and she stumbled forward; she only had enough time to clench her teeth, nothing more. Her head landed in the snow, the white stuff burying her up to her eyes. The rest of her didn't fare that well - her stomach landed right on the frozen trunk. Her ribs crackled and the air rushed out of her lung with a loud wheeze. Green dots danced in front of her, and she was sure she would pass out on the spot.

No-nono! Don't, she tried to keep herself up and awake. You'll never wake up if you fall asleep. Don't stop, whatever happens! C'me on girl, keep moving!

Easier deliberated than done, however. Especially when her aching sides only allowed her to take air in small sips.

Ugh... can't breathe. Need to stop this log from pushing my tummy.

She raised her left hoof and brought it ahead of her. Or would have, rather. She didn't have the strength to lift the limb out from the snow, and wound up piling the stuff at her face. The next phase went better - she pushed on the leg hard, using it to drag herself off the log.

She succeeded on the third attempt, and her entire body slid into the snow. It was a change she could earnestly welcome. She had stopped feeling cold for a long while at that point; so the only difference between the snow and the icy log was that one was soft and the other wasn't.

Feels comfortable... lying here...

Lying stretched and limp in the snow, Lyra was pretty sure she couldn't make another step. Moving only her eyes, she took a peek at the log which had caused her so much pain. It didn't look so evil, now that she didn't have to climb over it. It looked quite pretty, in fact. Thick ice covered the jagged edges, giving the downed trunk a rounded shape. In fact, the crystal-clear ice looked as if somepony had put the log into some sort of a glass tube... a glass tube with generous amounts of snow sprinkled over it.

And a little blood, too.

Lyra flinched at that. She had forgotten, but it was still leaking from her. The gash in her right shoulder wasn't giving her any respite. She wasn't sure how much a pony could bleed, but she had an inkling she was nearing that limit.

I should patch myself up...

Only she didn't have anything to work with. There was nothing she could use; nothing but snow and frozen trees surrounded her. She only had a useless amulet dangling from her neck.

Fat lot of good that did to her.

Dammit...!

It didn't matter, either way. She was too drained to move, to think straight; she couldn't have done anything, not even if a magical first aid box had appeared in front of her. She kept battling her tiredness for a while, but then fell asleep anyway. She could see her view rising, leaving her body; she was actually looking at her own self from a little up and behind. 

From there she saw herself sinking into a deep sleep, half-buried in snow. Then a day passed and she still hadn't woken up; not even when it began snowing with a fury, covering her without a trace.





Driven by instinct, Lyra snapped her eyes open and breathed in deep. She was expecting something cold to enter her mouth - be that snow or chilly air - but nothing such happened. Quite the opposite, in fact. She felt hot, so hot that she was drenched in sweat.

The images only reached her a moment later. A dimly lit room greeted her, complete with some odd bits of furniture; all painted grey by the pale light that filtered in through the window.

Was it... was it just another dream?

Dazed and unsure about the world that surrounded her, Lyra pushed herself up. Her hooves dug into something soft; it wasn't snow though. Only a bed and an incredibly creased blanket were beneath her. Turning slowly, she looked at her back, but couldn't see any snow there either... nor did she feel soggy. Working her gaze upwards, she scanned herself for anything out of ordinary... until she reached her shoulder, and the grimy bandages covering it.

That was the final bit which made the dam burst. She broke into a smile and fell back, onto her bed. She was panting and giggling; upset but incredibly relieved.

"Another bad dream?"

Glancing to her left, Lyra saw the blue outline of a pony land next to her. A pair of crimson eyes stared at her expectantly, measuring her.

"Yeah," she grimaced and rotated her head around. Her neck crackled and popped; it didn't feel great, but it did wonders clearing the drowsiness out of her system.

"I'm sorry," Snowy sighed and turned away, facing the window.

"For what?" Lyra rubbed her swollen eyes with a yawn.

Snowy waited with her answer. The silence grew so long that Lyra had sufficient time to scamper out of her bed.

"For being here," the windigo muttered. "Had Master not been forced to draw me out, she wouldn't be suffering now."

"That's stupid," Lyra barked back. Those weren't the nicest words, but then again, her instincts had never cared much for politeness.

"Is it?" Snowy looked back at her master. She looked very dejected, even with her features being nothing more than mere outlines. "I watched Master squirm in her sleep... it didn't look like Master had a good time. Old Master... had we never met, old Master wouldn't have wound up in a tower either, mistaken for a fool who wouldn't shut up about a demon only he could see."

"Give that 'old master' a rest already! I bet he had issues even before you two met. He was a crazy old coot, and that's about it!" Lyra snorted angrily, only pausing her tirade to give another yawn. "As for me, I'd have simply died without your help! I'm pretty sure 'cause I just saw it happen... so right now, I'm feeling like, super-extra grateful that you were around."

That reminded her of something.

She reached to her side as she talked, her hoof caressing the bandage. 

Pretty sure I don't need this. I mean, I could walk around or even bathe without this wound hurting one bit...

Acting on those thoughts, Lyra sprang into action; the bandage began glowing with an amber aura the next moment. The fabric couldn't resist the magical forces too long and ripped away, shedding from Lyra's shoulder in long, uneven stripes.

"Master, wait!" Snowy jumped at the sound. The sight had refilled her with energy - she didn't sound melancholic any longer. "The doctors said that Master had been seriously wounded! That bandage should be kept there until-"

Lyra had no ears for that complaint. She felt fine; but more importantly, she wanted to see for herself how her shoulder looked... especially after having seen herself bleed to death in a snowstorm.

She cleared the last strip of bandage and moved her head closer, the magic aura around her horn acting as her ad-hoc light. It wasn't as good as a regular light. The amber colour overpowered any other, making her sight effectively monochromatic; but Lyra was too curious to bother with looking around for matches and candles.

"Whoa," Snowy whispered in awe. "That's..."

"Ha!" Lyra clicked her tongue at the sight. "I knew I've been feeling well!"

There was no sign of any injury on her. The cyan coat was a little uneven, hinting at a scab underneath; but Lyra had to study herself really closely to pick that up. She lifted the right leg and moved it around; it felt stiff, but didn't strain or hurt whatsoever.

For all practical purposes, she was fully healed.

"Incredible," Snowy gawked at the sight.

"Yeah - it is," Lyra licked her lip. She couldn't get enough of that revelation; she started hopping around, paying just enough care to not wake Bon up.





"Really? Master had never recovered this fast before?"

"Nup," Lyra gave a minimal, almost flutter-like shake of her head, and blew some air out. The pages of the diary rattled in front of her, the topmost one almost managing to flip over; but she was quicker and held it down with a hoof. It may have not done much damage - the ink looked like it had already dried - but she wanted to be sure. She didn't feel like rewriting half a page worth of text.

"I mean, I only had a few cuts and bruises before," she explained as she moved the hoof around, tapping and rubbing the page gently. "But those always took weeks to heal. For this kind of a wound to disappear in just two weeks..." 

No matter how she looked at it, that was something extraordinary... and there was only one change in her life that carried inexplicable effects.

"Why would I make Master heal faster, though?" Snowy grimaced and scratched the side of her head. "How would I even do that? It doesn't make sense!"

"Yeah, because erasing memories is totally not crazy!" Lyra rolled her eyes and slammed her diary shut. "As for the why - how should I even know that? Though if you ask me... maybe that Source of yours is trying to encourage the players to go wild. Wouldn't put it past the loon."

"Why didn't it work right after our meeting, though?" Snowy shook her head vigorously as she continued her steadfast refusal. "Master's wound was so deep, I had no choice but to freeze it... but despite that effort, Master was in a rather poor shape when she received care. Had I possessed proper healing qualities even back then, Master wouldn't have needed to receive blood."

Tucking the diary back under her bed, Lyra moved her hoof to her chin. She hadn't thought of that.

Even so, her shoulder had healed in record time. That couldn't have been anything other than Snowy. But why would the windigo's healing factor kick in one moment and not the other?

Unless...

"DUH! It's so simple!" Lyra boinked herself on the head. "The Source wants to see us changing the world! That bastard, stooping to such dirty tricks...!"

Snowy cocked her head to the side and stared silently, obviously not getting the connection her master had uncovered.

"See, your creator wants the players to use - or, heh, abuse - the servants as much as possible, right?" Lyra explained with a gleeful smile, her front legs folded in front of her. "If that's so, then we should be reckless, right? Ideally, I mean. So I'd bet that your super-healing only works when you're erasing memories! I mean... to make us reckless, the Source has packed this hidden perk into that ability of yours."

It was Snowy's turn to rub her chin and hum thoughtfully.

"That might explain everything," she ceded. "Shouldn't that mean that other servants may have the same ability, though?"

"Haven't thought of that. But now that you mention... I wouldn't be surprised if they did," Lyra glanced at the ceiling. "I wonder if the other players have realized this, though. I would have never known about it had I not gotten so injured - and I sure wasn't planning to do any of that." 

She turned her eyes downwards, moving her gaze back to her right shoulder.

It still felt weird for that part of her to feel completely ordinary.

"Maybe I should tell Trixie about this," she hummed to herself. "Though she's kind of a magician, right? So I wouldn't be surprised if she had already discovered it."

"A fine idea," Snowy nodded. "Miss Trixie had been firing fireworks until very late, however - so I doubt she would be available for the better part of today. If meeting her is all that Master is planning, then I would humbly propose that Master return to sleep as well. Ponies need their sleep."

"You can forget about that!" Lyra burst into a yell. She followed it up by falling silent and glancing around repeatedly, checking if she had managed to wake Bon. The house remained silent however, so she could relax after a short minute or two.

"I can understand that Master is reluctant to face another nightmare... but Master needs to rest," Snowy pleaded. "Master needs to relax, or else Master won't be able to accomplish her plans."

Lyra breathed in deep. She was ready to tell the windigo to just mind her own business - but the ghost's words gave her an even better idea.

"Relax, you say!" Lyra grinned mischievously and rubbed her hooves together. "Indeed! Why should I sleep when I could relax?"

Judging by her befuddled stare, Snowy had absolutely no idea what her master was talking about.





"Whoa," Snowy gawked, fully under the spell of the instrument. "How delicate!"

Lyra simply smirked smugly in response, then returned to her task of sorting her drawer. She shuffled a stack of books to the back of the shelf, poked a box of candles out of her way... and broke into a triumphant cackle when a particular notebook came her way, tied closed with a black string. She grabbed onto that and yanked it into the open, closing the drawer afterwards.

"How does Master know which string to pull?" Snowy poked the lyre. The instrument didn't seem to mind; it remained lying on the bed, acting quite indifferent about the ghostly prodding. "There's so many of them!"

"Haha! Actually, this is a simpler version. It only has seven strings, see?" Lyra giggled as she walked back to the bed and placed the book onto the plain mattress. "The other one I use has ten, but I keep that in my locker room."

"Ah... I see," Snowy nodded absent-mindedly, suspiciously looking as if she were counting the strings. "Why is that? Is playing that one too complex? Not relaxing any more?"

"Tsk, tsk. Snowy, I practically live to play on these things! You could beat me over the head with them and I'd still enjoy it," Lyra gave the windigo a light-hearted chide. "I keep the seven-string lyre here because this is the one that fits into my drawer. The other one is like, big."

"Oh," Snowy recoiled. It was obvious that she found the answer surprising; she must have been expecting something less practical from an artist such as her master.

That kind of reaction had always entertained Lyra. For some reason, ponies had always expected artists to be a group of eccentrics; and she had really enjoyed proving that popular opinion wrong. It didn't take a pony to be an oddball to become a musician, and she was out there to prove it.

She undid the tie on the notebook, pulling the black string to the side. She then flipped the book open and grumbled disapprovingly. The pages were showing their age; they had turned yellow and had started to curl up. Lyra had no idea who came up with the quip of 'words fly away but writing remains'...  but she was sure that that pony never had to take care of old books.

"Strange words there," Snowy popped up next to Lyra's head, staring at the first page of the notebook. "A mi... estudiante desesperada? What is that?"

"Proof that musicians can also have wry humour," Lyra rolled her eyes and flipped to the next page. "It's a note from my old teacher, in her native tongue. Translates to something like, 'to my hopeless student'... hardy har-har."

She paused for a moment and flicked back to the first page absent-mindedly. The note had been written by the same paw and with the same ink; yet, to Lyra, it looked a little different than the rest of the page. It stood out and caught her eye.

I wonder how you're doing nowadays, you crazy gryphon lady, you...

She raised her eyebrows and sighed, then turned two dozen pages at once.

"Whoa!" Snowy yelped and backed away. "What's THAT!"

Although snickering and fighting to keep herself from bursting into laughter, Lyra could understand the reaction. She had reacted quite the same way when she was first faced with the huge blob of squiggles. To the untrained eye, musical symbols were indistinguishable from arcane magical recipes.

"It's a study score," she explained and ran her eye along the topmost line. It was a simple practice song; it was also her favourite, the one she kept returning to all the time. She could replay it blindfolded for years already, but she also liked to try using the instructions from the notebook every now and then.

Playing like that reminded her of when she had managed to get that song right for the very first time... so many years ago.

She grabbed the lyre with her magic and pulled the instrument close to herself, then returned her eyes to the paper.

"So... Master is going to play music, all by those strange markings?" Snowy crept back into her view. "Astounding."

"Ever been told that you're easily amused?" Lyra chuckled at the ghost's - and in a way, at her own - expense. There was hardly anything astounding about replaying a track that was meant for third-year apprentices. She never let that bit drag her mood down, though. She ran her tongue down her lips, leaned onto the lyre and...

And nothing happened. Nothing apart from her blinking in confusion.

Try as she might, she couldn't recall what to do.

She understood the score - she could imagine the tones, she could hear them in her head - but she had no idea how to translate them onto the lyre. 

What the...

She grabbed the lyre and rolled it around. It looked the same as usual, down to the last scratches on the wooden body. She had played on that instrument countless times before, so she knew it inside-out; she could have told the location of every chip by heart. Only this time she didn't have that feeling about it. The moves which came to her so naturally just weren't there.

Eyeing the instrument in bewilderment, Lyra pulled on a string; and to her greatest surprise, she failed to recognize the resulting sound.

It was like she had never heard it before.

Impossible!

She had played on that thing just a little more than two weeks ago, before they had left for that ill-fated vacation. Furrowing her forehead, Lyra cast her increasing worry aside and tried to let the ingrained moves guide her. It didn't work out too well; the lyre only made garbled screeching, forcing her to stop.

Okay, enough fooling around. What's going on here?

She dropped the lyre onto the bed and sat down herself. She was at a loss; that had never happened before. She had to calm down, needed a clear head to think with.

I don't get it, she gulped dryly. It's like I've forgotten how to play on this thing!

She chuckled wryly at the mere thought. What a preposterous idea! How could anypony just forget about something like-

Eyes going wide with terror, Lyra turned to Snowy. There was a simple answer at hoof - a simple answer that threatened to break her mind, right on the spot.

Oh sweet Celestia, please let this be just another nightmare!
> 22 - Price
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lyra, are you even listening?"

Hearing her name, Lyra jolted and glanced around. Her gaze remained completely vacant though; it took her a while to actually see, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Bon.

"Seriously! What's wrong with you?" the earth pony lashed out. She grabbed a glass full of orange juice and bumped it right into her friend's nose. "Here, drink this up!"

"Uh... huh," Lyra nodded. A hollow reaction at best; she kept staring at the glass numbly, as if the sweet juice was a completely alien concept to her. "What's this?"

"Orange," Bon smacked herself over the face with a groan. "Now stop asking questions and just drink it already, dammit. You look like you could really use the vitamins."

"Uh-huh," Lyra nodded again. She grabbed the glass, gave it a lengthy stare, taking her time to decide what she wanted to do with it... then something tipped inside her head and she downed the juice in one go.

"Seriously, are you sick or something?" Bon sighed. She scratched the top of her head, but she was really more unnerved than lost. "I haven't seen you look this bad since... well, okay, let's just say that I haven't seen you this bad for a very long while."

Lyra raised her eyebrows and pursed her mouth, nodding faintly in agreement. There was no denying any of that; it was all so blatantly obvious. She hadn't slept much for the last four days, only taking naps when she collapsed from exhaustion. Not even those lasted long; she was too anxious to sleep properly. She couldn't keep her eyes closed for more than a few hours, no matter how much she felt as if she had been wrought dry.

It's not like being awake was any better. The same anxiety plagued her days just as much as her nights. She didn't feel like eating, she didn't feel like drinking, she didn't feel like doing anything. She didn't feel like leaving her room, period. It took Bon a generous number of threats to drag her out for a snack, somewhere around the second day.

Things hadn't improved much since.

"I'm fine," Lyra sighed and placed the empty glass back onto the table. "I'm just, you see... I'm... a little worried-"

She bit onto her lazily rolling tongue, berating herself silently.

I didn't just say that, right? Too much information...

"Worried!" Bon frowned and leaned closer, onto the table. Loud clinging accompanied the move - she had inadvertently shuffled some glasses to the side. "About what?"

Lyra bit onto her lip and lowered her gaze onto the floor.

There we go! If I could only tell you! But I already know how you would react, so... heh.

She debated what she could say, for neither telling the truth nor keeping silent were options. She had no choice; she had to be inventive with the truth.

"You remember Major Mare's latest idea?"

Bon drew back and narrowed her eyes, humming loudly as she worked the gears in her head.

"Let's see... there was the one... then the other... oh wait!" Bon slammed her hoof against the table. Another loud clang; the overturned glasses began rolling around. "You're talking about the screw-you-all festival, right? The one that's totally unrelated to how Major wasn't invited to the Big And Glorious Wedding In Canterlot."

"Yeah. That one," Lyra nodded sombrely. Not even the venomous sarcasm could lift her mood this time. "So you see, I was like, contracted to provide music for that one. As part of an ad-hoc band."

She wondered if she should have added 'and this scares the living daylights out of me', but decided against being that obvious.

"Wha... whahahat?" Bon reared her head back. She tried her best at speaking and laughing at the same time, but wasn't winning any awards with her solution. "I'm sorry, but... whaHAhat? You - Lyra Heartstrings, the prominent musician - you are afraid of a token role at a small festival?"

The title rubbed Lyra with all the kindness of a kick to the nose. Yeah, right... prominent musician! She hadn't told anypony about her misfortune so far, not even Bon - it was only natural for her friend to misunderstand the issue. She crooked her ears a little; the misunderstanding may have been expected, but it still made for an isolating experience. It just couldn't be helped, though. She needed more time to figure her own reactions out. Bon would have blamed Snowy, that was for sure; but Lyra wanted none of that. She was the one at fault, and last thing she wanted was the windigo to take the fall.

Grrr... she would love this chance to save her Master, I bet.

She was having none of that. She grabbed an empty glass and rolled it around aloofly, thinking of a good enough way to twist the truth.

"Wait, don't tell me-!"

The surprised yell pulled Lyra back into the conversation.  Bon was staring at her, but the earth pony's expression had changed - she was no longer grinning, and looked as if she saw a monster at the other side of the table.

Which she couldn't have had, as Snowy was perfectly invisible to her. 

"Are you having stage fright again?" Bon balked. "Lyra, you've performed at far greater places! Heck, you've even appeared in the Opera! What's the matter all of a sudden?"

Lyra put the glass back onto the table, hung her head low and made a bittersweet grin.

Gah! I'm like, THIS close to telling you - I really am! But I just know what you would say, and I... I don't want to fight you over Snowy. My life's crappy enough already!

"I've simply got a bad feeling that something will happen." She went with the idea of not even trying to explain. It was a cop-out and she felt truly ashamed of herself, but she couldn't bring herself to dare the alternative. "Something like you've never seen."

"Oh... so basically a premonition?" Bon perked her ears, then dropped them back horizontal. She also turned her gaze down to the table, reaching to right the glasses she had toppled earlier. "Must be a pretty bad one, if it got you this spooked."

"Yeah," Lyra chuckled wryly. "It's pretty bad."





"Master should take a rest," Snowy demanded with an unusually stern, almost commanding voice. "A proper one."

"I'll have all the time to rest once I've tanked my career," Lyra snarled irately. She tried to push the windigo out of her view, but her hooves passed through the creature as usual.

"Master will be hurt if Master keeps up this routine," Snowy remained firmly in place, stubbornly trying to appeal to her master's sense. "Master is barely herself now!"

Lyra didn't need to be told that. Bon had already dragged her to a mirror, just to show how awful she looked. The unkempt and fuzzy mane, the bloodshot and swollen eyes, the dangling mouth... Lyra had to admit that even she was shocked at her transformation.

That sad fact mattered little in the face of her mounting worries, however.

"Snowy... just shut up, okay? Shut up and don't make my job any harder," she growled with a low, almost guttural tone. She was trying to be threatening, and succeeded effortlessly; all she had to do was to channel her inner anxiety and frustration. "I've got a little more than a week to learn how to play the lyre. That's already bad enough, even without you annoying me!"

That much was true - the whole situation was pretty bad, and neither of them had any ideas just how it could have come about. The only conclusion they could arrive at was that they had misunderstood Snowy's ability. They had gone through the diary and their memories at least a dozen times already, but Lyra's loss was clearly unrelated to any of the erasures the windigo had done.

Snowy had never had to make anypony forget about playing musical instruments; but yet, somehow, Lyra had lost that very specific part of her self.

...and she only had until the end of her holiday to recover. There was no way she could go back on her contract and decide not to show up at Major Mare's festival. That would have been an outrage. So she had a half dozen days to relearn everything - all that had originally taken her a decade to master.

Considering all that, how could she not be a nervous wreck?

"I'm sorry," Snowy muttered. She stopped pushing the issue and scampered away, defeated and disheartened.

Lyra didn't really look; she had seen the windigo mope more than enough times already. She had more pressing matters to attend to anyway... like her own problem.

Right... where was I?

She held the lyre in front of her and pulled on a string. Her ears flexed as she listened to the resulting sound; but she was back to shaking her head in disappointment soon after. 

She couldn't recognize the sound. She couldn't even tell whether she was simply unused to the lyre's sound or was doing something wrong. She could only remember how effortlessly she had been able to operate the instrument mere weeks earlier.

To get her touch back in a week... no, that was impossible.

She let go of the lyre and bit onto her lip, viciously. Pain numbed half her face and a coppery taste invaded her mouth, but she broke into a grin nevertheless. The self-inflicted punishment may have been pointless, but it only felt proper to suffer.

The cheater has to pay the price, doesn't she.

She really should have taken Bon's advice back at the beginning. She should have gone to the Guard and told them everything. Sure, they would have wasted Snowy's potential; but at the same time, they would have taken care to keep everypony involved safe. And safe she longed to be. She didn't want to be sitting in her room, shut off from the world, too agitated to even cry. Talking of agitated...

"It's not your fault," Lyra addressed her windigo as she leaned over, crashing head-first onto her bed. "You haven't done anything I haven't asked of you... only a poor shepherd would blame her flock."

"I made Master suffer," Snowy rattled. She had scooped up in a corner and was facing the wall, looking like a small, shiny blue ball. "I should never do that, no matter what happens."

Lyra dug her nose into the pillow and snorted loudly. That sentence, it sounded wrong.

No matter what happens, huh... 

Lying on the bed with the warm fabric beneath her head, her face contorted into a weary grimace. That was the very logic she had been trying to snap Snowy out of - without much success, apparently. She figured the disaster wouldn't help with the task either; she could easily see Snowy searching atonement by turning even more subservient.

Lyra didn't want a slave, however. She wasn't even expecting to be repaid for her efforts in the first place! She had meant to help...!

Keh! If only I had known the price I would have to pay... in advance, I mean.

She pulled the pillow over her head with a huff. Had she known it would turn out like this...

Actually, would I have done anything any differently?

She had the ability to change lives for the better. The lives of all the ponies around her, and maybe also that of her windigo. A powerful ability that carried a lot of dangers; but a unique chance with incredible potential all the same.

She pulled the pillow even tighter onto her head - so tightly that her horn tore a hole into the fabric. She tried to imagine the Lyra Heartstrings who chose to play it safe and just shrugged at the possibility.

Would I have been content like that, wilfully looking the other way? Not even trying to help when I had the chance?

Peeking out from beneath the cover of the pillow, her amber eyes narrowed to slits. She didn't like how that question sounded! It was all sorts of stupid.

She wouldn't have been. Of course she wouldn't have been. How could have she been?

Besides... it's not like she had simply lost everything with nothing in return. She had helped a few ponies already.

Surely that amounts to something!

She flipped the pillow off her head and threw it to the floor, glancing behind her back. Her gaze came to rest on the lyre, and something ached behind her ribs. She knew that objects didn't have feelings and that it was a silly notion; but at that very moment, her trusty lyre looked pretty lonely and abandoned. She had spent so much time with the thing, had so much fun... and now it was just collecting dust sitting next to her bed, unused and discarded.

The image resonated with Lyra.

Her days as a musician had come to an end. Whether temporarily or for good, only the future could tell... but it was clear that she wouldn't be returning to the business any time soon. She didn't suffer in vain, however.

Right... I've spent so much time cooped up in this room that I completely forgot what I've used Snowy for.

Tempering her bittersweet grimace with a smile, she recalled the few days she had spent helping others. If that was truly the reason for her loss, then maybe it wasn't such a disastrous exchange.

"Come, Snowy... we're going for a walk!" she commanded and bounced off her bed. "Let's see how things changed while we were locked up in here."

If she had to stop being a musician, then she might as well embrace being a hero.





A light wind rushed down the street, fuzzing the cyan mane before quickly moving along. Any other day, Lyra would have been a little upset how her nicely combed features were being ruined; but after her solitary confinement, she found the sensation refreshing.

It wasn't like many could have seen how unkempt she looked. The street was pretty deserted. She had left the house shortly before noon, so most ponies were either at work or having lunch. All for the better, as far as she cared. She was far from pretty and was acutely aware of the fact; the fewer that saw her in that state, the better.

She wouldn't have gone back to the house, however; she realized that after a mere twenty steps outside. The blue sky above, the warm sunlight, the fresh outside air... while she had been cut off from those for but a few days, their return felt as if she had been reborn. Not fully reborn, for her body still felt ready to fall apart; the lack of sleep and the non-stop anxiety had given her no favours.

She was pretty much reborn in mind and spirits at least.

Walking with her gaze lost in the sky, she even dared as far as to give a barely noticeable grin. She wasn't thinking of anything in particular, and that may have been the key. She was a lot better because the mad grind to recover her music was purged from her mind.

It's so peaceful, she noted - then almost fell over, her hoof slipping off the curbstone. She stumbled a few steps, aimlessly following wherever her momentum took her. She was on the other side of the street when she transitioned to a regular walk, staring down the next intersection.

Heh... seems my rotten luck doesn't want to let up, she frowned and scratched her neck. Her mane was an oily, unkempt mess that pulled on her skin whenever she moved too fast.

"Master, look!" Snowy popped into her view. The windigo's hoof was pointed down the cross street, at a large building in the distance.

"The bank," Lyra whispered and broke into a shiver. That was partly because of the memories... and partly because of her hoof pulling a few strands of hair out from her neck. She repeated the shaking motion again, this time to rearrange her coat into a more comfortable fashion. Then she began to walk in her slow, sky-gazing manner, pacing towards the bank.





The Source watched Lyra walk by. She moved so close that she ruffled the green robe, her windigo going as far as walking through the game master. Then they continued to march on, none the wiser.

The Source shook its head disapprovingly. No matter how daring the attempts were, neither Lyra nor that stupid windigo could sense the unnatural presence. Perhaps unsurprisingly so. That unicorn had no formal training in magic, after all.

"It would have been nice if you had turned out to be a prodigy though," the Source sighed at the musician.

Or rather: former musician.

The absolute meltdown that development had triggered had been quite the surprise. The Source had always known that playing music was important to Lyra, but it hadn't assumed that the pony was that attached to the art of sounds.

It was a stroke of blind luck, no denying that. The Source had only wanted to make sure Lyra couldn't settle back into her former life; to force her to remain active in the game. There was no hint that losing those memories would carry so much significance. Music was a pretty useless skill set; a form of decadency, a subdued form of hedonism. It certainly presented no advantage in survival.

"Even I deserve a lucky break every now and then, I suppose." The Source stretched its neck. It wanted to keep an eye on Lyra, but the hood started getting in the way; so it raised a purple hoof and brushed the garment out of the way.

Gazing at the figures of the cyan unicorn and the windigo, the Source wondered what they should lose next.

The windigo - just like all the other servants - was just a manifestation of the Source's power, after all. It may have been the ghostly creature who altered the minds, but the true magic always came from the Source. None of the players had realized that so far, but thus it was also the Source that decided the scales of the exchange. Cheaters had to pay, yes; but none had realized how that rule was invented and enforced solely by their very game master.

Rules like how Lyra would lose some of her own memories whenever she messed with the heads of others.

"You were more cavalier with my powers than anyone else before. Absolutely reckless," the Source snickered at the pony and took a more comfortable pose, its side leaning against the wall. "And you did all that while you still had things to lose! I wonder what you will be truly like, once you will have nothing holding you back."

She could be like a force of nature - wild and unyielding.

That prospect drew a toothy grin to the hooded pony's face.





Lyra was halfway to the bank when an alarm went off in her head. She couldn't put a hoof onto it, but something seemed off. Given her already glacially slow pace, she didn't slow down or anything; she simply focused more of her attention on the large building.

She saw little actual reason for concern, however. The place looked as peaceful as possible. The shutters were wide open and the windows glittered in the sunlight, casting their reflections onto the nearby buildings and the cobblestoned street below. The large, two-parter door in the front was just as it had been before, waiting the clients with stoic indifference.

The more Lyra eyed the building, the more certain she grew that there wasn't anything wrong with it. Even so, the uneasy feeling just wouldn't let up.

Huh. How strange. I wonder if-

Not looking where she was placing her hooves carried the predictable result; a step became too shallow and the horseshoe on her left skidded along the pavement. It wasn't a painful mistake, but it easily could have been - she tilted forward and almost fell on her nose.

Ugh... probably just my mind playing tricks, she used the a momentary pause to rub her burning eyes. My kingdom for a proper sleep!

"It feels strange, coming here." Snowy broke their long silence by the means of a nervous chirp. "This is where Master had used my powers for the first... naye, the second time. I wonder if it's going to be safe, coming here. Had anypony found out what we'd done..."

"Second, you say?" Lyra squinted, the unexpected correction taking priority over her baseless paranoia. "What was the first then?"

"The viscount in Master's room, of course!" Snowy smirked. She pronounced the word viscount with an unmistakeable air of pride; it was so different from the rest of the sentence that it drew her master's interest.

"Hah, indeed. I always thought it was strange for him to just pop up in my room." Lyra snorted at the memory, then furrowed her forehead as she thought more on the issue. "Strange, though. I couldn't have ordered you to do that, right? I mean, I hadn't known this much about you back then."

"Indeed," Snowy lowered her head; the fact was visibly not meshing well with her. "I have no idea how that came to be, to be honest. I surmise that I had acted on instinct - I had to do something, after all. Master's life was in peril."

So that's why she was so proud? That she had saved me on her own initiative? Lyra rolled her eyes at the subservience that seemed to know no bounds. That sarcastic display gave place to bewilderment as she realized the true importance of the situation, though. Wait - that means that she could be wholly independent! She already acted on her own back there! All it took was... uh... me being in... mortal danger.

On a second thought, training her windigo that way didn't sound very enticing.

The conversation was suspended as the duo passed a pegasus walking in the opposite direction. Lyra used the forced silence to mull over that fateful night, back in the Dancing Lights. The more she thought about it, there more she felt there was something she had been meaning to ask about...

"You said you acted on instinct," she whispered, her head turned all the way around; she only wanted to resume talking once the pegasus was surely out of ear-range. "Did you really have no idea what powers you had? Not even a tiny little bit?"

Snowy's features twisted into a pained grimace; her answer also came after a considerable delay, a testament to her resentment of the mere suggestion.

"Had I known what I was capable of, I wouldn't have made Master go through the pains of discovering it," she explained in a forcibly cool tone.

"Yeah, sorry. Just making sure." Lyra nodded faintly. She had never paid Snowy's amnesia much thought; it was easy to assume that it was somehow caused by that crooked Old Master. However, after her own misfortune, Lyra saw another, even more disturbing possibility loom over the horizon. She gathered her strength, squeezed her eyes and rearranged the words in her head... then inhaled and went ahead. "Snowy... can you think of a reason your old master would have wanted you to forget about... well, about that?"

There - the cat was out of the bag. While she was careful to phrase it in a way that made the old coot responsible, Lyra was really interested in the polar opposite.

Snowy, is it possible you're also erasing your own memories when I ask you to use your power?

"No." Snowy shook her head firmly, sending her translucent mane flying in all directions. "Old Master never displayed any interest or care towards my skills. I very much doubt he would have resorted to using my powers - even if for the purpose of sealing them."

"It could have been by accident." Lyra put her final card on the table. She didn't look at Snowy. She was staring forward, but didn't see anything with her glassy gaze.

All her focus went into hoping she wouldn't hear the answer she expected she would hear.

"In all likelihood, it was by accident." Snowy chuckled wryly to herself, then took a loud breath. It was one of the rare moments when she really resembled a real, living pony. "I've spent quite a few nights thinking about that... whenever I had some free time, watching over Master in her sleep. I now figure I must have saved Old Master from the snowstorm, at the cost of his companions; though whether I have actively caused their demise or simply neglected them, I will never know. Either way, my powers to manipulate heat aren't that strong; so to save him, I must have..."

The mighty windigo trailed off and fell silent; she went as far as gulp in her fight to get the word off her tongue.

"You cheated," Lyra sighed. "You saved him, but at the expense of your collective memories."

Snowy bobbed her head up and down, and looked very thankful for not having been forced to point that out herself.

"It doesn't seem very fair though. I mean, seriously - memories for keeping a pony warm?" Lyra cackled and shook her head, her disbelief still going strong. "How does that even work out? What's the exchange rate? How could any rate be fair?"

"I don't know. Though to be honest, it still seems more fair than what Master is going through." Snowy raised her eyebrow high and gave Lyra a piercing stare. "Old Master had avoided a guaranteed death at the cost of starting a new life. Master, in turn, has lost her biggest purpose in life, in exchange for... pulling a fashion designer out of a tight spot? For nulling out an ordinary loan? For giving a librarian a chance to properly experience some books for the second time? How does any of those seem fair?"

Lyra ceded the point in silence. When presented like that, the facts did hint that she had gotten a little short-changed. Whether thanks to some nefarious plan or her remarkably poor luck, however... that was impossible to tell. 

For the time being, anyway.

She interrupted that thought by furiously shaking her head. She didn't want to delve deep into the matter; she was afraid of wondering about the train wreck her life had become. Maybe later. For now, she was wandering aimlessly around Ponyville, enjoying the sunlight... and feeling passable. She didn't want to ruin that.

"Master! Company!"

Lyra had just enough time to glance around in haste. She was passing a junction, the last one before the bank; the streets were still devoid of traffic, apart from the one pony that Snowy had warned about.

That one pony that had also worn a silly hat - a hat so distinctive that Lyra could instantly recognize it anywhere.

"Applejack...!" she blurted out in shock.

Applejack was walking with the same dazed look on her face that Lyra had born a little earlier. Hearing her name was enough to bring her out of her stupor though; she straightened herself and yanked her head up.

"Oh! Well, howdy there!" She gave the cyan musician a hearty grin... after a noticeable delay. "And here Ah was thinking to mahself that ya' looked awfully familiar...  what brings ya' over here?"

"Pretty much just walking around town." Lyra shrugged and smiled aloofly, doing her best to display her carefree side. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be selling apples?"

"Ah, well, 'bout that... Ah' don't need to worry 'bout that for a while Ah' don't think," Applejack smiled. She was either incredibly nervous or incredibly bad at lying, for all her feelings were readily displayed on her face - rendering her smile fake the very instant it was made.

Lyra didn't like that look. She didn't like it one bit.

"Is... is there a problem?" she asked in a faltering tone. She could barely squeeze the question out; there was a large knot swelling in her throat.

Applejack looked at the musician. There was sadness and pity mixing in her eyes; she didn't maintain the eye-contact long either. She pulled on her hat hard, bringing down until it completely hid her eyes.

"Yep," she then confirmed Lyra's worst fears. "There's been a lil'... misunderstanding."





"Closed for technical reasons," Lyra read the note aloud. She scratched the top of her head and hummed to herself, wondering just what that could have meant. 

It was the first time she had seen a bank close for 'technical reasons'. Grocery stores had that bad habit, disappearing due to the highly technical issue of running out of money. And that snack buffet she loved going to, next to the train station in Canterlot. But a bank, of all things? 

She shook her head wildly, her surprise tempered by a badly timed yawn. It may have been the exhaustion slowing her thought-process, but she couldn't wrap her head around the situation.

How could a bank get closed like that? Aren't they the ones printing money? Or making money out of nothing? Or... or whatever that magazine said.

"Technical reasons?" Snowy murmured barely audibly. She displayed the same level of puzzlement as her master. She re-read the note several times, and even made circles around the paper, as if the message might change if viewed from a different angle. "Just what constitutes as a technical reason? Did they lose the key to the front door? Did the lock break?"

Cocking her head to the side with a goofy grin plastered across her face, Lyra had to admit: she hadn't thought of that.

Oi, oi, oi... aren't you taking this note here a little too literally?

Though on a second thought, the door experiencing technical difficulties was no more unlikely than the bank itself running out of funds.

"Technical reasons, eh?" Applejack joined the duo in dumbstruck gawking. "Well ain't that a treat! Guess that explains why there ain't no-one around here either, though."

Lyra bumped herself on the forehead, then peeked around all sneaky-like. She had noticed earlier how clean the adjacent streets had been... but she didn't make the connection between that fact and the note.

Haaa... I really shouldn't leave home without Bon, she cringed as she returned to smiling like those dumb poster-mares did. To think even this farmer would make me look so stupid!

"Haa, ain't this some rotten luck!" Applejack knocked her head against the closed doors. She then rolled around and slumped down, her back against the closed entrance. She lowered her head and let it sway from one side to the other, all the while chuckling sombrely to herself. "A pretty rotten business, too..."

Standing on the sideline of the unfolding scene, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and returned to scratching her head. She had imagined a lot of ways that conversation could go - but to have the hearty farmmare act like that... that wasn't among them.

"This pony sure looked a lot happier the last time we met," Snowy crept closer to Applejack. She still kept a safe distance, and only inspected the earth pony by leaning forward and stretching her neck. "What could have happened to her, I wonder? Doesn't she have a veritable wealth now?"

Lyra had no answers to that one. The exact same conundrum was keeping her thoughts busy, in fact.

She did say she had a little misunderstanding, just now. She rewound the past few minutes in her head. Does it have something to do with the bank?

Moving her eyes to the left, she gave the 'technical problems' note a pondering stare. The longer she remained in place and stared at the paper, the worse she felt. Her head seemed to have become heavy and her limbs were tingling with a worrisome numbness. Nothing she couldn't chalk up to the last days' insomnia... had she not been certain her ailments weren't due to exhaustion.

She was experiencing that foreboding shock. The one which had always acted as a prelude to a disaster.

We couldn't have made a mistake with the bank, right? she pursed her lips. I was trusting Snowy back there, though. When was the last time she had been around? A few hundred years? Even if she had correctly remembered everything about finance, the times may have changed...

The worrisome thoughts gathering in her head, Lyra felt close to breaking into a shiver... so she closed her teeth and squeezed hard. She couldn't afford losing her composure. Not in front of Applejack - and especially not before learning just what had gone wrong. 

Don't give up just yet, girl. There's still a chance you can fix this screw-up!

She drew a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. She was going to have to feign calmness; and she was going to have to do it well.

Positive thoughts!

"You look pretty worn," she turned to Applejack... or to Applejack's silly hat, rather. It was brought so low that it covered the entirety of the farmmare's face.

Applejack took her time to answer; she had to stop dragging her head left and right at first.

"Yea'. Ah' s'pose Ah' might." She finally spoke up, immediately starting with a dry chuckle. "Think Ah've had mah' longest day yesterday."

Lyra nodded, and felt her high-strung nerves letting up a bit. Whatever had happened yesterday wasn't so far in the past yet; and she surmised it was easier to correct a fresh problem than an ages-old one.

Still need to know what's wrong though, she reminded herself.

"Feel like talking about it?" she asked as she sat down herself, throwing her back against the door just like the other pony had. 

Applejack didn't react well to the invasion of her privacy. Her right eye flashed beneath the rim of her hat, her eyebrows rising in the cover. She was so openly full of suspicion that Lyra could have guessed her next words in advance.

"Now, don't get me wrong Lyra... it was Lyra, right? So don't get me wrong, Ah' ain't meaning no disrespect! But Ah' think this here issue only belongs to us Apples, and us Apples alone."

Bingo, Lyra sucked on her teeth. She had rarely been so depressed by being right.

"Whatever you say. I just meant that you seem to be... well, under the weather," she pushed her head backwards, against the cold paint of the door. "I recall you cheering me up with your news of good fortune the other day... so I thought I could give some of the favour back. I mean... you don't have to talk, okay? I just wanted to say that I'm here and I'm listening. You know, in case."

"Smooth," Snowy purred from Applejack's other side. "I've never heard somepony do such a stealthy guilt-trip before! It's nice to see that despite all our hardships, Master still hasn't lost her edge."

Oi! You're like, really quick to point out my moral failings! Lyra frowned and looked away. I'm only trying to get her to talk - isn't that what a professional shrink would do too?

"The other day... yeah, Ah' remember that," Applejack mused. She pushed her hat back and turned to Lyra - slowly. Very slowly. Threateningly slowly. "Ah' also seem to remember that Ah've only been so lenient with ya' because ya' had a pretty sore streak."

"Pfahahaha!" Lyra hollered loudly. It was the most convincing moment of her act yet - partly because the reaction was almost genuine. "Seriously, can you look at me and say I'm not having a tough time myself?"

"I guess it is lucky that Master skipped bathing for the last few days," Snowy scratched her head, making her translucent mane draw complex patterns over her neck. "Master's current looks will make that excuse very convincing indeed."

Oiii! You just called me a tramp! You totally called me a tramp just now! Don't do that! Not even when you're trying to compliment me! Lyra shot an angry glare at the windigo - who, in truth, didn't seem to get her silent messages at all. Also, stop complimenting me about bad things! I'm not feeling good about misleading anypony!

Even so, the ghostly servant had a point. Applejack leaned forward and studied Lyra at leisure... then rubbed her chin with a hoof as she slumped back against the door.

"So where's yer' bandage?"

Lyra snapped her head to the farmmare, unsure if she could believe her ears.

"Don't ya' give me that look." Applejack snorted and dragged her hat over her face. "Ya' could barely walk when we first bumped into each other. Heck, Ah had to get Big Mac carry ya' home! And now yer' walkin' around here, all fine and dandy? No bandage... and not even a scratch? No offence Lyra, but that ain't addin' up real well."

Frowning at the sharp logic an ordinary farm pony had demonstrated, Lyra glimpsed at her right shoulder. 

Tsch. Bon was also surprised about this, she reminded herself. In fact, Bon had flat out stated that she had expected Lyra to be in bandages for months. Didn't think my fast recovery would become an issue, of all things!

None of that changed the fact that she needed an excuse - and quickly, at that.

"It still hurts." She grimaced at the apple farmer, her brain boiling as she searched for an injury that didn't leave any outwardly signs. "I've sprained it real badly, you see? It's still not quite okay, either... just because I can walk without bandages doesn't mean I'm totally fine!"

"Oh." Applejack bobbed her head upwards a bit. 

"Heck! I have proof if you're being this distrustful," Lyra exploded into an overblown display of rage. "I've been to the doctor with it! You can just ask... ugh, who was there... what was her name... Dash! Yeah, you can just ask Dash about it. She was there too!"

Only after she had said the name did Lyra remember how Dash had departed from Miss Treatment.

She may not appreciate me ratting her out. She rubbed her temple nervously. Oh well - what's done is done...

"Dash... okay, sure, yea'. Ah'll believe ya' - on one condition," Applejack growled and pulled her hat so low that it was practically resting against her muzzle. "Don't mention Dash again, m'kay? We dun' talk 'bout her any more."

That victory didn't net any sense of accomplishment for Lyra. Not when the good news was tampered by such shockingly strange news.

We don't talk about Dash anymore? What? Seriously, just... what?! She screamed internally as she gave an absent-minded nod. Weren't you together in that newspaper photo, all smiling and stuff? Pieces of harmony and whatnot? So didn't you like, know each other? And now you're not talking about her, all of a sudden? Seriously, just what the heck happened?

She couldn't help but feel really worried about that angry remark. It may have been her growing depression, but she had a really bad omen about the way that relationship had soured.

"I'll keep my mouth shut," she stuttered with glassy eyes.

I sure hope I'm not the one at fault for that one...!

"Thanks." Applejack nodded curtly. The move sent her hat tumbling down from her nose, right onto the dusty ground beneath. Applejack didn't even try to catch the runaway garment; she only reached for it once it was firmly on the ground. "And... sorry. 'Am a little on edge today... but Ah' suppose yer' right. Keeping them bad news all bottled up has never helped anypony... maybe talking about it is the right choice."

Lyra forced a smile. She was just a friendly pony helping another's burden by offering an ear! In no way was she a shady mastermind on the verge of breaking down.

"Still, it's kinda hard to say." Applejack giggled with utter anxiety. Even her hoof shook - to the point where she could barely put the hat back onto her head. Her giggling didn't seem to ebb either. She could only regain a more normal voice by taking a few deep breaths, coupled by equally loud exhales.

Then, after what seemed like hours of a tormented pony struggling, she finally blurted it out.

"Lyra, Ah've been... Ah've become a suspect. The Guard says Ah've swindled funds from this 'ere bank."





Had she not had fur covering her face, Lyra would have turned whiter than the marble tiles of Canterlot castle. 

"The Guard... what?"

"Ya've heard me right. A few officers had paid me a visit yesterday... they inquired about the money Ah've found at home," Applejack explained. Her composure didn't last; her tone was again as shaky as her hooves. She couldn't settle her hat back onto her head either, only fiddling to no avail. "They've told me that they've found a huge discrepancy in the ledgers of the Equestrian Royal Bank... and they thought that case's linked to mine."

Resting her back against the bank door with her eyes closed, Lyra faced a hard decision.

She could either faint or burst into a maniacal laughter.

As it turned out, she had managed to turn a fairly annoying problem into a huge disaster - one which had progressed beyond the scope which she could fix. She had no idea what those ledgers were, but she was fairly certain she had no way to correct them. And even if she could do that, the Guard had also gotten involved already... so there was no way to solve this issue behind the scenes any more.

"Ledgers... I haven't heard of those." Snowy narrowed her eyes as she confirmed Lyra's fears. "It's possible Old Master simply hadn't discussed them. This... this could be bad."

Ahaha, no. There's nothing 'could be' about it. This is already very bad. Lyra clenched her teeth. Sweet Celestia, what have I done?

"But you haven't done anything." She squeezed the words out. It was difficult, having to talk. The voices were drawn out and distant, and her tongue refused to move  the way she wanted... it wasn't any fun to talk like that. "What could they be basing this case on...?"

"Not much so far," Applejack sighed. She gave up on the hat; she let it sit on her the way it was, crooked and sideways. "But Ah' can see why them detectives are thinking like that. Ah' mean... ain't no denying Ah've been coming a lot to this bank 'ere! Even Ah' can remember that much. But see, Ah'... Ah' just have no idea why. It's not like Ah've owed them money or anything."

Lyra pulled her head forward and yanked it back, ramming the door with the back of her skull.

"Yeah," she hissed with pain once she was done. "It's not like you did... haha..."

"Yep. Ah' would remember if Ah' had owed these folks anything!" AJ grinned. She was so nervous that she couldn't sit still. She ignored her hat and fiddled with her hooves, looking as if she was solving an invisible puzzle. "If only Ah' could remember why Ah' kept coming here..."

"There's a lesson to be had here." Snowy shook her head and sighed sombrely. "Our scope was too restricted. Next time we erase memories, we need to be extra careful to not leave traces around!"

Just what kind of a moral is that? If abusing a power got somepony in trouble, then you should try and apply even more of it?! Lyra rolled her eyes. She was seriously weighing whether to tell the windigo to shut up... right until the realization dawned on her as well.

Applejack wouldn't have been so torn had nopony remembered her going to the bank so often. The Guard still may have found her, but she could have plausibly denied everything. With no witnesses, with no other evidence, even those ledgers couldn't have been sufficient to cause a pony much grief.

I could have avoided all this, Lyra drew a ragged, shallow breath. I have broken my life just so I could help somepony... and I've screwed that up as well.

"Just mah' luck too, to have this place closed! Can't ask anyone like this," Applejack continued with some nervous head-bobbing and a dejected sigh. "Ah' really wished Ah' could have asked around, too... before them detectives come back to mah farm and threaten me again with two dozen years of jail."
> 23 - Debt
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra sprang to her hooves, in such a fluid motion that completely belied her exhausted looks. Her sudden movement even managed to make Snowy jump.

"Two dozen... what? Jail?!"

"The standard fare for them charges, as Ah've been told," Applejack winced and stretched her neck. The brim of her hat crumpled, squeezed between the pony and the bank door. "Fraud, subornation..."

"Fra... what? Subornation?!" Lyra gasped for air, absent-mindedly shaking her head in a wide arc. Her disorderly mane turned into something resembling a bird's nest... but looking presentable was the last thing on her mind. "You haven't done any of those! Even I know you haven't! And I've only known you for what? Days?"

"Thanks, partner. Some sorely missed words there." Applejack grinned wryly. The grin didn't last more than a few seconds though, and she was back to her grim expression. "But what them Guards' told me sounded pretty solid. Ya' see, the money's gone missing from this bank here. Gone - as if the ground's gone and swallowed it up! Only in the Canterlot office did somepony find references to some contract made here... which nopony here could find. Hate to admit, but that ain't possible without some help from the inside."

Lyra ground her teeth against each other. Sinking into fury, she didn't even notice the subconscious reaction until her gum began to hurt.

This isn't going to help now. C'me on girl! Keep thinking straight, she told herself; but the calming words felt incredibly hollow. The truth was dawning on her, and she couldn't react in any way but sinking into useless, barely-repressed  rage.

She had failed, yes. That was already bad enough - but as it had turned out, it was a failure she couldn't have avoided. She had lost even though she should have won. For she didn't err; and Snowy didn't err either. Their performance at the bank couldn't have gone better. Apart from one caveat, that is.

That it had been rendered moot by some overly nosey accountant in Canterlot.

That itsy-tinsy bit of detail turned the whole game around. She'd never had any chance of coming out on top. Even if she had known how the internal mechanisms of the bank worked, she couldn't have erased physical papers in both Ponyville and Canterlot. 

She had lost the moment she had set her mind on that self-appointed task. It was a hopeless endeavour, and the only reason she couldn't call it pointless was because she did achieve something - putting Applejack behind bars, that is.

That was what made her mad. Absolutely and furiously mad - at her own self.

She felt like grabbing something to bash her head into. Or throwing herself under a moving cart... or running head-wise into a sturdy wall. Anything that would have hurt, so the voice of her conscience would quieten down a bit. So that she could stop looking at Applejack and think, look how miserable she is. You've made her this way. Now look at you... you're pretty fine in comparison, aren't you!

For a varying degree of 'fine' anyway.

She had lost her music. That hurt, more than anything else she had to endure in her life. Not even the chase in the icy hills came close. She may have been freezing and hurting back there, but the whole thing had blown over rather quickly. Not being a lyricist... that was an awful premise, and also one that promised to stay with her for a long, long while. It was a mighty blow to her in many ways.

But even that wasn't enough to break her, for she still had other things to hold onto.

Even with the gaping hole her music was, she still had a pretty good life. She had a house, a place to return to - and more importantly, she had Bon. A friend who would unconditionally help her, no matter how deep she had dug herself.

Applejack, on the other hoof? She really had the sword of Damocles looming over her. If the Guard had truly believed what they had said, then she was facing a long time away from everything she held dear. Even a decade would seem like eternity in a cell... all alone, out of reach from everyone who mattered.

All because of me. Lyra felt her jaw shake as her teeth pushed against each other. All because I thought this would be a simple game...!

"It doesn't sound like the case would have a strong basis," Snowy spoke up, breaking her master out of her stupor. "Miss Applejack lives on a farm, correct? It would be unlikely for her to have the means and the connections to succeed at something so intricate."

Lyra gave the windigo a dark look. She was ready to tell the ghost to shut up, but her mind managed to pre-empt her mouth this once.

Wait a second... the stupid ghost is right! She blinked in confusion. The red mist thinned from her mind, leaving her in the same mood as before - only a little more puzzled. There's no way a farmmare could do something like this! That's common sense, right? So the Guard will need to show real solid proof if they want to put her into prison.

The tiniest, topmost portion of Lyra's lips inched upwards, almost as if she was trying to smile. Almost.

"Where's their proof, though?" She asked out loud. She was too anxious to actually raise her voice however, which detracted greatly from her act. She may have steeled her voice, but she was almost whispering. The end result sounded as if she was threatening somepony. "We aren't in the middle ages any more. We have laws! If the Guard wants to lay a hoof on you, they are going to need evidence. And I'd be most surprised if they found anything!"

Applejack pursed her mouth and raised her eyebrows, then nodded sombrely.

"Yep. Am' hoping the same." She raised her head, moving until she was staring Lyra in the eye. "But... it's still gonna' be all over them newspapers. Am' gonna' be headlines everywhere... gonna' be pretty difficult to be a simple apple farmer like that, don't ya' think? And that's only if they don't manage to send mah pretty face into a cell."

"Don't worry about the newspapers. Ponies... forget," Lyra stated grimly, her features so firm as if they had been carved from rock. It was pretty unsettling for that truth to sound so banal. "So don't you worry about what others say, okay? As for the Guard... don't worry about them either. They won't have anything to show."

While she had been quick to protest at any recklessness, Snowy didn't interrupt her master this time. She simply looked away in silence.

"Haha... Ah' wish Ah' had yer' confidence," Applejack laughed sourly and took a loud breath. "But ya' know... it's pretty easy to say 'they ain't gonna' have a thing' when it's not yer' neck on the line. No offence, of course - Ah' really appreciate that yer' trying to humour me. But... Ah' have a feeling they ain't gonna' let me run."

Lyra recoiled as her newfound resolve cracked. She was prepared to hear the farmmare blabber in distress; it would have been quite an understandable reaction, in fact. She would have done the same. But what Applejack said sounded more explicit than the foreboding nonsense anxious ponies made.

Does she know something I don't? Lyra bit onto her lip. It was uncomfortable, but she had no choice; she had to pry further into the matter. She couldn't possibly walk away until she was certain things weren't headed towards rock-bottom.

"Did they have something to threaten you with?" Lyra walked closer to the farmmare, the gears furiously turning in her head at the same time. That question was too blunt, she figured that much; she needed something to offset it with. To put it into the proper context. "You see, I... am a pretty big musician. Okay, I'm not the biggest, but I was- ugh, I am almost there! I have played at quite the few high-society gatherings... you know, parties, dinners, the what-not."

She stopped a step away from Applejack, so close that she could have poked the farmmare with her hoof. Still staring eye-to-eye, too.

"I have connections," Lyra flashed a grin. It was an absolute lie, of course; the only connections she had were among the other musicians. Nopony in those 'elite' crowds would seriously consider mingling with the hired performers. 

...not unless they were at Octavia's level, but she was a completely different story.

Lyra would have been surprised if an apple farmer had known about such minute details of a musician's life, however. She was hazarding a bet; but it was a bet she could confidently make.

Applejack was visibly stunned by the offer. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened; it took her many seconds to recompose herself.

"Right, fine. Have it yer' way! But don't come runnin' to me when ya' get tangled in this mess," she grunted and yanked her head away, pulling her hat over her face. "They've got that Celestia-bucked ledger from the Canterlot. It ain't much - it's like an entry on them inventories. But it has mah' name on it, ya' see? Right next to a number. A long number. With lotsa zeroes."

"Ah," Lyra made a pained grimace. She finally understood how Applejack had gotten into the Guard's view.

"Don't be fooled, Master! Demands are null without a valid contract." Snowy dismissed the evidence with a vigorous headshake. "Anypony could have a funny day and write names into a ledger. That only makes a claim, not a debt... and certainly not an obligation."

Lyra glimpsed at the windigo, then chuckled faintly to herself.

Seeing as I'm no longer playing music, I may as well enter the world of finance! She threw a wink at the blue ghost. With this kind of help, I could really pass for a pro.

"That's nothing," she spoke up, returning to her confident voice. "You could also write a ledger if you wanted. They can't sentence you without real proof - so they've either got a contract or they've got nothing."

That must had been news to Applejack. She poked up the brim of her hat so she had a good look at Lyra's face.

"Ha... hadn't thought of that one. Didn't think you musicians would be this good at legal matters," she snorted and scampered to her hooves, her mouth twisting into a bittersweet grin. "Haha, would ya' look at that! Ah' may just get out of this with mah' head on mah' neck... Ah' just hope yer' hopes in them courts ain't misplaced, haha!"

Lyra cocked her head to the side at the stubborn refusal to optimism.

What's this, now? She raised an eyebrow as she gave Applejack a suspicious glare. Why would our legal system break down just now? You didn't actually do something, right? I'm not helping a clever criminal escape just now, right?!

"I did always find Master's absolute trust in the rule of law pretty amusing," Snowy nodded serenely. "I wonder, is this bank owned by a noble?"

"It doesn't matter who owns the bank!" Lyra narrowed her eyes. The provocation did a quick work of her careful act; she was lashing out with an angry snarl before she knew better. "They're just ponies, like me or, well, you! We're all equal, so I don't care if- er- uh-"

She sputtered and ground to a halt, a weary sigh culminating her outburst.

Well, I've done it again! Great going there, girl.

"Hah, well, that ain't what am' afraid of," Applejack scratched her head. She was obviously distracted; she managed to push her hat off her head, and only caught onto the fact with visible delay. "Heck! Had Celestia been the owner of this 'ere bank, Ah' would bet mah hat that this wouldn't have made big waves. Ain't gettin' more privileged than her either."

"I hear you," Lyra nodded, then mimicked the motion of scratching the mane at the back of her head. "So, uh... why did you just say you're worried about going to court? I mean, if you don't think a noble is going to just declare you guilty, then... what's the issue?"

"Well... ya' got that right, 'Ah suppose. Ah' ain't worried that some noble is gonna' declare me guilty!" Applejack cackled with utter anxiety. She then looked at the ground and sighed so loudly that the dust swirled at her hooves. She noticed her hat just then, and resumed talking as she picked it up. "But as Ah've said, this is gonna' be one case for them headlines. Gonna' be a lot of ponies watching out for this one... and it might set a bad precedent to let somepony like me run. 'S all 'am saying."

Lyra opened her mouth, but then closed it and gulped instead. She hadn't thought of that one; and even worse, she couldn't even come up with a reasonable argument. That worry did make sense. It made too much sense, in fact.

"Somepony like... you?" she stuttered and gulped again. "You mean, a farmmare who was obviously minding her business?"

"A farmmare who got rich overnight." Applejack rumbled. She plopped the dusty hat back onto her head and broke into a shiver; a small cloud of brown dirt rained over her head and neck. "Do you really think they'd let me go? What message would that kinda' deal send?"

"That forgiveness is a virtue?" Lyra shot back right away, though she knew she was grasping at the last straw.

"Haha! Another score there," Applejack snorted and laughed. She then turned back to Lyra, her green eyes bristling with conviction. "Even so, that doesn't mean that stealing ain't no longer a sin, either."

"True," Lyra nodded. It was more of a half-nod; it left her head hanging, as she didn't feel the need to raise it back up.

"Ah mean... there wouldn't be banks if everypony wanted free money, right?" Applejack snickered. "And truth be told, Ah'd hate to know Ah've caused big problems just to save mah skin. Ah' ain't that kinda pony."

"Will you not defend yourself, then?" Lyra darted her eyes up, staring at the farmer as her nose scraped against the ground. "Are you seriously going to just admit to everything?!"

Lyra couldn't allow that to happen. She had no idea what she would do, but she absolutely refused to give up like that. She wanted to fix the problem she had created; and by all that was holy, she wouldn't let anypony stop her. She might stumble again, but she would still try to jump all the hoops in the way. 

Not even a disillusioned Applejack could prevent her from trying to help. Besides, it's not like Snowy couldn't deal with melancholy either... a few creative deletions are all it would take.

"Nah. Ah' told ya' - Ah' ain't never telling no lies. If they ask me, 'am gonna' say that am' innocent." Applejack declared, her snicker softening into a genuine smile. "Ah' ain't gonna' fight tooth and hooves, though. Ah' reckon am' just gonna' let them courts decide... and gonna' roll with whatever they say. Ah' suppose that might be fair."

Wrinkles appeared on Lyra's face and she felt her anger rise again. That was not a decision she could accept. She couldn't leave an innocent pony's fate hanging on a fifty-fifty chance! Not as long as she still had the means to do something about it. 

Especially not when she had caused the whole mess in the first place.

"I-" she growled, her voice deep and guttural. She knew she was doing something unwise, but she couldn't stop herself. She couldn't just sit back and let Applejack walk away - to let her be judged by what was basically a mob decision.

She was going to fix that problem, even if it involved helping Applejack against her will.

Takes what it takes.

Those fiery words never managed to leave her mouth, however. An interruption came - in the shape of a frightened white unicorn.

"A- Applejack! Dear me, it's really you. I've- I've been looking for you everywhere! What are you even doing here? I've-"

"Whoa! Whoa there, slow down!" Applejack motioned with her hooves. "Ah' can't understand what yer' saying if yer' mashing them words like that! What happened?"

Glancing at the newcomer herself, Lyra began toying with the idea that she had been transported into a theatre tragedy somehow. She saw Rarity, and it was obvious that the white pony was not having one of her better days either.

Don't tell me...!





"You weren't at home," Rarity kept on jabbering, unbothered by the confusion her arrival brought. "I've been meaning to talk to you since yesterday, but you were always busy somehow. I've-"

"For the love of Celestia, stop!" Applejack blared and smashed her hooves against her ears. "Sugarpie, am' willing to do whatever ya' want! But ya've got to tell me in a way that this apple farmer understands!"

"I... uh, okay? I can do that." Rarity nodded without much enthusiasm... or even care for the plea. Her compliance was similarly half-hearted, spanning over a grand total of two seconds. After which she leaped to Applejack and gave the stunned farmer a bear-hug, all while wailing at the top of her lungs. "YOU'RE MY ONLY HOPE! YOU HAVE TO HELP MEEEHEE!"

Watching the scene play out without anypony so much as batting an eye in her generic direction, Lyra was pretty sure she had somehow faded into the background. Not that she minded; that kind of invisibility gave her a lot of freedom. She was free to faint, for example. Or jab a sharp stick into her nostril.

Distractedly and without much power, she smacked herself in the right side of her head.

Ah, I'm thinking those thoughts again.

It wasn't hard to see just why her brain would turn back to depression, though. Applejack was in trouble for her actions; that was pretty bad on its own. To make matters worse however, the farmer seemed content to pay for crimes she had never committed... Lyra would need a really cunning solution to that predicament. Probably involving a lot of selectively blanked minds.

Going by her recent experiences, that premise was even less reassuring.

But all that wasn't enough yet, apparently. Fate just had to throw another punch in her face - in the form of Rarity. The white unicorn was all sorts of worn and torn; she looked as if she had fended off a whole pack of carnivorous lawnmowers on her own. No longer did she possess the distinctive curly mane; her long hair was gnarly and unkempt. Her gaze was misty and jittery, her eyes darting around even as she talked. Though at a second glance, her entire body was shaking, the effect becoming more pronounced as she held onto Applejack.

And then there was the voice. That pitiful, pleading, borderline crying voice - it was something that would surely stick to a pony with a heart. Or with sensitive hearing. As a musician, Lyra had that feature in spades.

"Whoa," Snowy balked at the sight. "Master, isn't she...?"

"She is," Lyra covered her eyes with a leg. It may have been selfish of her, but she was really hoping the designer's transformation had nothing to do with the selective amnesia she had been granted.

"This doesn't make sense," Snowy returned to her master's side, darting past the other ponies with a graceful leap. "We haven't done anything significant to this Miss! We have... uh..."

Lyra lifted her hoof so she could peek at the windigo. She was disappointed that Snowy would feign ignorance; it was way too soon for anyone to forget about their meddling. It hadn't been a week!

"The dresses," Lyra whispered under her nose, careful that she wasn't overheard. "We've... extended the deadline of a few dresses."

"Ohhh," Snowy hummed and raised her eyebrows. "Then why-"

"Rarity... 'am really sorry, but Ah' ain't really in the mood for this." Applejack rolled her eyes and pushed the clingy white pony away. "What's gotten into ya' anyway? Me, yer' last hope? Did ya' run out of cider or something?"

"Cider? Who's talking about cider?" Rarity backed off on her own. She moved with unsteady steps, swaying to the side each time she had a hoof in the air; she seemed to defy probability simply by refusing to collapse. "It's my shop! You have to save my shop!"

Going by the reaction of the small crowd, that was a real bombshell. Everypony in the vicinity took on the same dumbstruck face, eyes bulging out and jaws hanging. Even Snowy was left speechless. 

Rarity didn't notice her shocking success. She was busy backing away until her good fortune had finally left her. She took a wrong step and her leg slid out from under her; her lower jaw clattered against the ground, shortly followed by the rest of her.

"Yer'... shop?" Applejack mumbled. She formed the word slowly, as if she was under a spell. The effect was only momentary; she shook her head to clear her mind and glared angrily at the white pony. "Wha- is this some bad joke? What's with yer' shop? How could Ah', an apple-farmer by tradition and admission, help you, a pony who deals in clothing?"

Lyra was glad for that question, for she had been thinking along similar lines. She simply couldn't imagine what Rarity could have sought... 

...but on the other hoof, the way she looks... this can't be just a prank. She ruled out the least painful resolution. There had to be something - something they weren't thinking of. Something like-

"Money! You got a lot of money!" Rarity scraped the ground, crawling her way back to the others. No-one helped her; her words had left everypony too stunned to even notice that she couldn't seem to stand. It's not like she herself cared either though, for she didn't interrupt her pleas to try getting up. "You're sitting on untold riches! Applejack, I know you can help me! You're the only one I can ask! And... and it's not like I'd ask for much! You could afford it, I'm sure of it! It'd be just a drop in the ocean!"

"Wha-" Applejack went wide-eyed. She was so dumbstruck that she completely switched off, retaining just enough self-control to sit down instead of outright dropping to the ground. She then held still, frozen; she almost became a statue, only her ragged breath hinting that she wasn't made out of stone yet. It took her a while to dish even a single question out. "Who... who told ya' that?"

The effect wasn't lost on Lyra either, but she bore it a lot better. She was only numb, perhaps a little dazed. After her own misfortune and the unexpected complications regarding Applejack, she may have gotten used to personal tragedies.

Which was, frankly speaking, a pretty frightening concept. Even if it allowed her to better focus on what she had heard.

Money? She furrowed her forehead. How can she be having money problems? I've been over to her place what, a few days ago? And she was literally swimming in orders back then! Seriously, the whole place was packed with mannequins and dresses! There was a small fortune in there, even if I just count those ten thousand bits each. How could she... be...?

The answer dawned on Lyra as soon as she thought a little longer about it, but the realization didn't exactly help her mood. She squeezed her head against the ground and slammed her hoof into her skull, right next to her ear. All sounds were drowned out by the ringing noise right away. That was good, but not good enough; so she brought her hoof down again and again. She wanted to smash her own stupid head into the ground - or failing that, just hammer the lesson home. Literally.

Bon told me, didn't she. She told me that I'm not supposed to wield this power. That I'm too stupid to use it responsibly! Lyra recalled the conversation from an eternity ago, back when she was about to use Snowy for the first time. But I, the genius of geniuses, had to think that she was wrong! That it couldn't be so difficult! That I could do it on my own! That I, the stupid idiot who couldn't even fill a tax form without help, could prove to the world...!

She wasn't sure whether her anger or her stamina ran out, but she gave up.

Her legs landed right next to her head, the horseshoes hitting the ground with a dull clang. There was little point in beating herself up anyway. It didn't even really hurt. Her head may have ached, but that was absolutely nothing compared to the feelings she had been trying to suppress.

"Money. Money... again money." She heard Snowy echo the word. "How strange, that money would remain such a powerful concept over the ages. Despite what old Master believed, I may just witness money surviving nobility. A Lord shall be a Lord, even in Tartarus... is what he said, but now it seems that mere coins are holding out better than those fancy titles. How quaint indeed."

"What have we done?" Lyra whispered in a voice full of despair. She didn't hear the windigo; or even if she had, she lacked the faculties to understand such abstract musings. Her mind was stuck in a loop, with seemingly no way out; she was cracking under the pressure.

"I seem to have committed a few mistakes." Snowy glanced down at her master, immediately refocusing to the new topic. "I am... not quite sure how I can make amends, though."

Lyra couldn't muster the strength to rebuke that. All she could spare was lifting her hoof and letting it drop back onto her stupid head.

Meanwhile, almost right next to the master and servant, the two ponies had also carried on with their quarrel.

"Who in Equestria told ya' about that?" Applejack approached the dressmaker. She walked with thundering steps, and there was little doubt that she wasn't being intimidating just for the sake of putting up an act. "WHO?!"

"What does it matter? I know and that's all what counts! Because I need your help and I know that you can help me!" Rarity cried out. She was still flat on her belly, and was pointing a hoof at the angry farmer rather than try getting up. "Do you even know what will happen to me when I fail to pay- ack-!"

Whatever explanation she had, it had to wait. Applejack placed a firm hoof on the back of her neck and squeezed her against the ground - not forcefully enough to choke her, but with enough force to pin her down.

"NAMES, Rares! Ah' want names!" Applejack asked - at the top of her lungs, shouting so loudly that her breath ruffled Rarity's tangled mane.

Observing the scene from her comfortable spot on the sideline, Lyra dragged her hoof back and forth, debating whether she wanted to cover her eyes or not. Everything she had witnessed was taking a toll on her soul, she was sure of it. It was a stretch to say she had known those ponies well, but she knew enough to tell that they weren't being themselves. Watching them act like that and knowing just why they had turned out that way...

The scene was tearing her heart apart.

On the other hoof, turning a blind eye and a deaf ear had never solved anything; she understood that. She had to watch. She owed those two this much. It was her fault and her responsibility, after all. She may or may not be able to set everything back straight - but the least she could do was understanding how bad things had become.

"It doesn't matter who-" Rarity tried the same protest again. She stopped whimpering, but only because she was struggling to speak; the hoof pressing down on her neck had left little room for her mouth to move.

"It does! This ain't something that anypony shoulda' heard about!" Applejack snorted and leaned forward. The move also shifted her weight forward, placing more pressure on her front hooves; which, in turn, forced a muffled groan out of the white unicorn pinned underneath. That was a price Applejack could live with; she had to be really close to Rarity, because she could only whisper the next part. "Rares... that money ain't legit. Am' in real hot water over it! So ya'd do yerself a favour if ya' forgot about it."

"I don't care! No wait - I do! Give it to me! That'll make it my problem, right?" Rarity wheezed, her chin digging into the dust. She struggled mightily to look at the pony behind her back, but the hoof pressing down on her neck left her with a very limited freedom of movement.

Applejack gave the idea a surprised blink - followed by the shake of her head and a long, loud sigh.

"Yer' nuts. Seriously - do ya' really think that sending ya' to jail in mah' stead would make me feel any better?" she frowned and took a full step backwards.

"But you have no reservations about watching my whole life fall apart, huh?" Rarity muttered. She was free; but she didn't make use of that freedom. She was just lying on her belly, flattened out like a pancake. "AJ, dear... the way things are, I stand to lose my boutique. Soon. I can pay the most important bills for about three months... and then it's lights out."

A sour grimace was the way Applejack showed that she had understood. She didn't say anything however, opting to just stare at the dressmaker. She finally turned away with great reluctance, her eyes burning with shame.

"That's all you've got to say? Nothing?" Rarity chuckled faintly, staring at the empty street with vacant, glassy eyes. "It's really funny, you know. I never once thought that all of you would leave me alone like this."

"Well, just what're ya' expecting me to do?" Applejack snapped her gaze back to the white unicorn. "Ah' ain't got that much on me, Rares. And that money yer' talking about? Well, the Guard's all up in arms about it! Heck - they're gonna' send me to prison over it! Can ya' understand that? Am' gonna' have to leave 'Bloom and 'Mac fend for themselves! Heck, Bloom's gonna' be a full grown mare by the time Ah'll get to see her again!"

The angry rant worked; Rarity finally broke free of her paralysis and moved. She jolted and rolled to her side, now equally shocked and anguished.

"Ya' love yer' shop, Ah' get that. No, Ah' can actually respect that - dresses being yer' apples and all that." Applejack looked the other pony in the eyes. She spoke with a surprisingly even tone - though whether she had actually calmed down was anypony's guess. "But ya' know what? Ah'd trade mah' trees for mah' family any time of the day. So Ah' ain't gonna let ya' do this mistake. Am' sorry if not doin' anything is hurting ya' right now... but Ah' would rather endure that pain than do something that'd hurt ya' even more, down the line."

A dry chuckle echoed through the air. Still sitting unnoticed in the background, Lyra found a lot of irony in those words.

"Prison... leaving Sweetie Bell on her own." Rarity mumbled as she translated the situation to her own reality. "Oh dear, that's... that'd be the worst. Yeah, you're right. I'm... I'm sorry? I'm not sure what I was thinking. I just heard that you're sitting on all this wealth, and I thought that you could-  that you know, you could-"

Applejack didn't care an ounce for the apology. She stepped closer to Rarity and yanked her up without much fanfare.

"Well - now yer' in the know." She frowned and slapped Rarity on the side a few times, dusting off the other pony's white coat. "Ah' guess ya' can see why Ah lost mah' temper back there. Ain't an easy topic."

"Enough... thanks." Rarity stumbled and pushed the helping hoof away. "And I do. I just happened to overhear Sweetie Bell and Applebloom the other day... they were talking about this fortune-from-nowhere, and I thought that I could... that I could solve all my problems in one fell swoop. Haha, I thought...! Who am I kidding, I had completely lost myself in the idea."

"Oh." Applejack pushed a hoof against her forehead. She obviously hadn't thought of such a simple misunderstanding; but the simple explanation had also visibly eased her worries. "So... what happened to yer' boutique? Ah' thought ya'd been doing all sorts of well."

"Oh, I have definitely been! A little too well, perhaps. I have gotten overly ambitious," Rarity sighed. She turned her head around and reached at her mane, running a hoof through the scurry strands of hair. "I have started this grand project... almost forty dresses, all made from the highest quality material."

Back in the distance, Lyra decided on covering her ears and her eyes. She already knew where that was going.

"Forty...!" Applejack muttered with wide eyes.

"Quite the daring venture, if I do say so myself. Looking back at it, I am baffled how I could have considered it a good idea!" Rarity chuckled sourly and pulled on a knot in her mane. "Long story short, all my assets are in those dresses... and unless I find customers for them quickly, I won't be able to afford keeping my shop open too long. In all likelihood, I won't be able to afford just keeping my shop, period. I doubt my creditors would accept unfinished dresses instead of bits."

Applejack closed her eyes. Her face became stiff; she was quite bad at hiding just how badly she was trying to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Am sorry," She muttered out loud.

"Don't be. It's my own fault." Rarity grinned with utter resignation. "I'm only sorry for Sweetie Bell. In this whole fiasco, I'm only worried what will become of her. She really deserved better."

"Ah' feel ya'," Applejack grunted and pulled her hat down on her eyes. "Well, it seems we're both in for the tough ride... partner."

"Partner...!" Rarity scoffed at the notion, but accepted it with a wry grin shortly afterwards. "Well, I guess I could consider you my partner in rotten luck... partner."

Both of them pulled back a little, eyeing the other and waiting for reaction - then both of them exploded into laughter. A short, jagged, broken laughter, fit for those who had so very little to laugh about.

"Let's go back to them Sweet Acres." Applejack yanked on her head, motioning with her nose for the other pony to follow. "Ah' think we could both use a drink or two rite' now. Besides..."

"Sure thing, dear. I could sure use a little break..." Rarity held a hoof against her head and nodded sombrely. "But... besides? Besides what?" 

"Besides, Ah' think Ah have an offer for ya' after all!" Applejack wrapped a leg across Rarity's neck and dragged her along. "So, in case ya' wind up without a roof... how would ya' feel about workin' on a farm? Lots of fresh air, plenty of time outdoors, acceptable pay, guaranteed roof above yer' head... and ya' could also watch over 'Bloom for those fast few years 'am gonna spend in me two-by-two cell!"





The two friends departed on that bittersweet note, leaving the former musician and her ghostly servant on their own.

The master-servant duo kept sitting in front of the bank's entrance for a while. Both of them were staring at the empty street; but while Snowy's gaze was wandering around, studying her environment for whatever purpose, Lyra's glassy eyes were only gazing into empty nothingness.

As expected, it was Snowy who broke their long silence.

"It's quite inspiring to witness such steadfast resistance against ill fate, isn't it, Master?"

Pulling her eyebrow upwards as she rolled her head towards the windigo, Lyra wondered what she could say to that. A pair of friends sticking together despite their harsh fortune; how could she not feel touched by the most classical tale of camaraderie? 

Only this time it was she who got cast in the role of the outrageous Fortune. A careless god, wrecking lives without rhyme or reason - by mere mistakes and accidents.

How could she say anything to that? How could she acknowledge anything like that? 

How could she accept that she had thrown away her own life, only for the sake of such a revolting prize?

She flexed her lips and held silent. Her own words had failed her. Nothing she could say would give her tragedy justice. Though the more she thought about it, the more fitting a quote seemed... one she had heard in the Opera.

"Now, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

"Master shouldn't take it so hard." Snowy turned to Lyra, the fine outlines of her ghostly form shuddering at the exclamation. "Master has given it her best. There was no way we could have known things would turn out this way."

"Tell that to them!" Lyra nudged with her nose at the distant corner where the apple-farmer and the fashion designer had disappeared from sight. "Tell them that it was me who has taken everything from them - by mistake, no less! That their hardships are only because I had no idea what I was doing! That it was... that it was completely pointless!"

Lyra's head plopped back onto the ground as she ran out of steam. There was simply nothing driving her any more. No anger, no fury, no hopes nor any desires. She was completely empty inside; a vacuum in the shape of a unicorn, that's what she was.

She wished she could at least rage at her own stupid self, but even that was beyond her. It wouldn't have accomplished anything anyway. It would have been pointless.

Ain't that right.

Lying in the dirt, that was the only thing Lyra Heartstrings felt sure about: that everything was pointless.

"What now, then?" Snowy asked the question that Lyra had been dreading for a while already. "Will Master attempt to correct the wrongs that we... that I had committed?"

"Don't you think we've caused enough grief already?" Lyra sneered at the ghost. She had barely lifted her head off the ground though, so her mane brushed the dirt as she moved. "Do you want to break more lives that badly?"

That question was like a barbed arrow. It didn't care to look subtle or hide its intentions; it was straight to the point, made to hurt and to hurt as much as possible. Snowy didn't give any sign of discomfort, however; she settled the issue with a nonchalant shrug.

"Master's will is my will," she spoke, her crimson gaze passing over her broken master. "I do what Master wants me to do. So if Master has had enough... then so have I."

Lyra moved her jaws in a chewing motion, mulling over how simply the windigo had described their situation. 

Had enough... haha.

She had had enough, that was for sure.

"Right!"

She pushed herself up from the dusty ground with a grunt. It felt good, to be standing; it felt good, having found something meaningful to do. She rolled her head around, popping her neck a few times; then she gave her windigo a sombre smile.

"Sorry, Snowy. I know it's not your fault, but... but I think it's time we end this game and come clean."
> 24 - Consequence
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hello? Hellllooo?"

Lyra leaned against the cool tree trunk and hung her head low. She didn't like losing, of course; nopony did. Oddly enough, losing wasn't annoying her the most as she rested against the harsh outer bark of the Golden Oak. No, there was something worse than losing.

It was being made to wait. That her defeat would come so drawn out, making her wait in the street for what felt like an eternity.

She had enough time to reflect on her actions and regret everything all over again. At one point she even found herself wishing that she had never escaped the icy hills; that she had disappeared in the frozen forest, along with that accursed amulet and the ghost contained within. She could have spared the world so much pain that way.

Then the moment passed and she recoiled in disgust. Naturally, Bon wouldn't have taken her disappearance quite well. Hurting the only pony who had always genuinely cared for her, just to escape her conscience - that was a new low. She shook her head wildly, trying to shake the imaginary scenario away.

Stop looking for easy ways out, girl. Haven't you suffered enough for cheating already?

She muffled a groan and banged her hoof on the door again. She was trying to remain civil, but her patience was just like the rest of her - in tatters.

"IS ANYPONY HOME?!"

"Maybe the librarian is out," Snowy wondered at the lack of reply, staring at the closed door much more relaxed than her master. "In fact, it would be weird to expect a librarian to never set a hoof outside her library."

A frown was all that Lyra had to say. The windigo was right, of course; a pony so important as Celestia's top student likely had a lot of matters to attend to. Even so, Lyra doubted that anything could have matched the importance of her case.

One way or another, she wouldn't leave until she got inside the library.

If anypony could have undone the mess she had wrought, then it was Twilight Sparkle. Short of the Princesses themselves, of course - but Lyra held no rosy delusions about her chances of getting an audience. Especially with a story so ridiculous-sounding as hers.

"Come on!" She hissed through her clenched teeth, squirming against the bark of the Golden Oak. "Please be at home! I really need your help right now...!"

She pulled her hoof back and brought it forward. A loud bang reverberated, both in the air and through her aching bones. She was no longer sure if she was still trying to simply knock, or if she had progressed to breaking down the door.

"Uh... if I may, Master ought to exercise a little more caution?" Snowy cringed at the increasingly desperate attempts. "We are in the open street, after all..."

Lyra gave the windigo an exhausted glare, then peeked around. That part of town was indeed livelier than the streets surrounding the bank. So far nopony had bothered to stop and ask what she was up to, but some would surely take notice if she tried to keep up with the door-bashing.

"Right." Lyra nodded, accepting reality with a sour face. "We'll come back late-"

Something rattled on the other side of the door; faint metallic noises, like keys on a chain knocking against each other. Lyra had just enough time to give Snowy a brief glimpse; then the door opened up, revealing a small dragon instead of the pony she had been expecting.

Lyra gave the scaly creature a lengthy, puzzled stare.

So... just who are you and what are you doing there?

She missed a few beats, just blinking vacantly until she could overpower the numbness gripping her.

"Hey." 

"Hi there." The dragon gave her a token salute. "Were you the one making a racket?"

"Yeah." Lyra nodded eagerly, completely lacking shame. "Is Twilight in there? I need to speak to her."

The dragon hesitated to reply. He scratched the side of his head in obvious discomfort, then peeked back into the library. He really looked as if he had an embarrassing guest he wanted none of the 'outsider' ponies to see.

"It's urgent." Lyra narrowed her eyes. She had no choice but to press her point. Her task was too important - there was no way she could let some random self-important buffoon delay it. "There is a serious problem Twilight needs to take a look at. I mean, like, right now."

"Every problem is a serious one around these parts." The dragon rolled his eyes and leaned against the doorframe, settling for a longer chat. "You're going to have to tell me more than that, miss, uh..."

"Lyra. I'm Lyra," Lyra tempered her introduction with a moan, born out of her lack of progress. "What's with you anyway? Just let me in already! Isn't this a public library? I have the right to enter! Isn't this place like, financed from my taxes?!"

"Pleased to meet you too, Lyra. I'm Spike... and I would gladly let you in had you come looking for a book." The dragon pointed a claw at Lyra - quite accusingly so. "You're here to see Twilight though, and that's a completely different story. She's not on twenty-four-seven duty, you know!"

Lyra pursed her lips and blew hot air out of her nostrils. She may have been silently brooding mere minutes ago, but the steadfast refusal was really making her exasperated.

This stupid dragon probably doesn't even realize how important my visit is, she fumed internally. The chaos she had unleashed needed to be stopped; the sooner the better. She had had enough of seeing how disastrous her meddling could be.

"Twilight specifically told me that I could ask her questions any time," she tried a white lie. 

Twilight had never really said anything like that. She only kind of  meant along those lines. Or thought about it. Probably.

"Hmm. She did? I haven't seen you around... though I've been out a lot these days." Spike rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose it's worth a shot. A word of caution first, though - be really patient when talking to her, okay? She's been a little... highly-strung lately."

Gee, no wonder. Lyra rolled her eyes as she gave a curt nod. Somepony's been wrecking havoc all around town lately. Of course Celestia's appointed student would be nervous about that! Especially since she'll be the one cleaning this up...

"Fine then," Spike sighed, visibly anticipating his decision to bring little good. He opened the door anyway, standing aside, holding his hand at shoulder-height in a welcoming gesture. "Well, Lyra - welcome back to the Golden Oak."





The distinct lack of a librarian was only the second thing that Lyra spotted; the complete disarray she found much more breathtaking. The Golden Oak looked as if a hurricane had gone through the middle of it... shortly after high-yield explosives had gone off beneath the bookshelves.

The floor was almost completely covered by scattered books, colourful pages hiding the natural tint of the wooden tiles. The shelves made for a particularly sad look as a result; they looked like empty wooden boxes, clearly longing for some purpose. Those shelves that were still in place, that is - as quite a few had joined their former content on the floor as well.

Whoa. Lyra observed the scene with her mouth hanging open. And Bon thought that my tantrums were bad!

"It looks like a war has passed through here," Snowy remarked, crouched over a random book on the floor. "I wonder if Master could still receive the help she had expected? Whoever laid such ruin to a library would be no less dangerous than... ugh, than what we seem to be."

Lyra closed her mouth, gave that line of thought some thinking... then slapped herself smack in the middle of the forehead. She didn't stop either. She kept pressing her hoof harder and harder, to the point where the dancing dots of pain filled her vision.

No... no! NO! NO! For all the thousand fires of Tartarus, I've used Snowy's power on Twilight as well! 

She was practically screaming at her past self for the decision. She had no idea how making Twilight forget about Daring Do could lead to such a disaster, but she was eagerly waiting to find out. Despite the obvious reality in front of her, she saw no way that she - a musician with no musical skills left - could have so easily broken the top student of the Sun Princess.

The mere idea sounded inconceivable. Ridiculous, even.

"Ahem! Do pardon the mess." Spike re-announced his presence with a faint cough. He used the mildest manner possible, but still managed to make Lyra jump; for the pony had completely forgotten about him being around. "Now you have an idea why I didn't want to let you in, though."

"Did Twilight do this?" Lyra muttered. She knew the answer, but was still secretly hoping she would be proven wrong. That Twilight was still well enough to provide her some help.

"Yep!" Spike shook his head with a sour grimace. "I did try cleaning up, but she just demolishes everything all the time anyway. Oh sorry - it's 'looking for something', she says. It's really frustrating. I could really make this place shine if she would just let me!"

Lyra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She wished she could say that she was disappointed, but she wasn't. She really wasn't, and she found that coolly resigned admission to be the worst. She had already come to expect ruining everything she had ever touched. If not even a pony so trained in magic such as Twilight Sparkle could escape unscathed...

Damn it! Just what the heck is this power made of?!

"I wonder what happened to her." Spike folded his arms on his chest. He raised his eyebrows as he peeked up, his gaze pointing at the second floor. "I mean, okay - this assignment to Ponyville and the whole reports-about-friendship have stressed her since day one. And well, she did come close to snapping a few times already! But... but she doesn't really look like somepony who has snapped."

Why would you even bother telling me that now? Lyra gave the dragon a dark glare. She wasn't sure why she felt complaining, though. Had she had known about Twilight's issues before, she surely would have attempted to fix them with Snowy.

The mere idea sent shivers down her spine.

"Why did you let me in, then?" She spoke up, her own gaze climbing to the ceiling, following that of the dragon's. "It's obviously not the right time for asking her questions."

"I had this idea that throwing something different at Twi would snap her out of it," Spike reached to scratch the scaled skin on his chin. The way he phrased his words made it sound as if he had had that plan all along; but his tone left serious doubts about that assumption. At that very moment, he wasn't exactly inspiring confidence.

You're really just making this up as you go along, huh? Lyra rolled her eyes. Whoo, boy... did you invite the exact worst pony to help out!

"By the way." Spike moved his gaze onto Lyra, his green eyes betraying equal amounts of curiosity, hope and worry. "What are you going to ask of her?"

"Magic," Lyra blurted out curtly. She found no sense in telling the dragon about Snowy; in fact, she might have gotten thrown out if she had done so. It was quite unlikely that Twilight's dragon would let a stranger bother the ailing librarian with obviously insane stories, after all.

"Good topic." Spike nodded aloofly to himself. "I'll just-"

Lyra felt as if the air had shifted around her. Her natural reaction was to ignore it - she had never cared much for loose air currents. She only started taking earnest interest when she saw Snowy turn around and jump, obviously alarmed by something. She spun around, but was too late; or rather, the purple unicorn was simply too close. Two hooves dug firmly into Lyra's side and she was thrown off her legs. Torn pages scattered around her as she skidded on and among the many books, stopping only when she crashed into a larger pile.

Depression or not, Lyra's survival instincts kicked in.

Where did that pony even come from! She raced to make sense of her situation, even as she gasped for air. There wasn't a single soul down here! I didn't hear the door open either - and there's no way anypony could have come down the stairs! Did... did somepony really just appear out thin air?!

She didn't need to wonder long. She tried to roll around and get back up, but a hoof landed on her chest, pinning her against the books. She winced in pain and glanced up by instinct; she also readied a leg to knock her attacker off balance-

-only for her fighting spirit to depart once she saw who her opponent was.

"Twilight?" She mumbled with a low, hoarse voice. "What-!"

"You! I remember you! You're that- that Lyra!" Twilight sneered. She looked about as calm and collected as Rarity had been, but with less depression and incomparably more fury.

With painfully higher amounts of comprehension too, as her following accusation hinted.

"You - you did this to me!"

Lyra's heart jumped, and she felt her heartbeat through the bulging veins in her neck; she gaped with an open mouth, but couldn't utter a single word. At that very moment, she had completely forgotten how she had come to make that very confession. Her instincts had completely overridden all the higher thoughts of hers. She was just a scared little pony, and she wanted nothing else than to be safe.

And at that moment, being safe felt very synonymous with being silent.

Twilight wasn't amused by that passive kind of resistance, however.

"WHO ARE YOU WORKING FOR?" She boomed and smacked a hoof between Lyra's ribs. "I know that you planted that Daring Do stuff in my head! What is it? A code? A keyword? Will it trigger me to do something at Shining's wedding? TALK! OUT WITH IT ALREADY!"

Whaaaaaat?

Her eyes bulging in shock, Lyra was pretty sure she had either misheard or had finally gone mad.

Seriously, what?!





"Who sent you?" Twilight demanded, her voice raspy from all the screaming. "How did you sneak into my house? How many times have you been here, actually? C'me on, TALK! Talk before I make yo- ow- ow! OW! Spike, cu- OW! CUT IT OUT! SPIKE!"

Twilight arched her head all the way up, until her neck couldn't bend any more; then she began inching backwards, slowly and grudgingly.

"Sorry about that! I really thought she couldn't teleport in this state!" Spike sputtered an apology as he backed away, dragging the wincing Twilight by her mane. "And you - would you just calm down already? Lyra had only come to ask you a question! There's no subliminal messaging involved!"

"Spoken like someone who's already been brainwashed!" Twilight grunted and shook her head wildly. She failed to break free; Spike's grip was simply too strong. Stronger than her tolerance of pain, anyway. "Ack- oww! Ouch! ARGH! SPIKE! LET! GO! ALREADY!"

Panting next to the pile of worn and torn books, Lyra had all the time in the world to pull herself together and scamper away. She did none of those, however. She was staring at the fit Twilight was throwing, her dumbstruck face showing her shock like a pony-sized billboard display.

Her being a force of misfortune was nothing new, but she couldn't comprehend how that particular disaster had come about.

"No-one has gotten brainwashed! You're just paranoid!" Spike struggled to keep a firm grasp on Twilight's mane. It wasn't an easy task, holding onto a pony that was thrashing around. "Seriously Twi! Just sit down and talk! Weren't you big on rational solution- whoa!"

The dragon broke into a yelp as Twilight yanked her head hard to the side. Despite his surprised cry, Spike didn't let go though, his hands clenched around Twilight's mane all the while. His resilience paid off - kind of. He was holding a handful of indigo hair once he scampered back to his feet.

Lyra gave the sight a pained face. She knew how bad it was, pulling on her mane when she combed herself in the morning. To see a handful of hair get torn out, that made her shiver.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Even just looking at that hurt!

"Looks like somepony will need a lot of ice," Snowy winced and looked away.

"Whoa... okaaay?" Spike proceeded to stare dumbfounded, measuring the torn strands of mane in his hands. "So that... wasn't really what I had in mind..."

Twilight was decidedly less amused. She crouched to the ground and hissed loudly, struggling to pat herself on the neck.

Well, she's gotta be in some pain, Lyra sighed and rubbed her aching ribs. There was some sweet taste of revenge in seeing Twilight in pain; but that taste was easily overshadowed by the sourness of her guilt. It was she who had wrecked Twilight, after all. She had really deserved that beating-down she had received. If anything, she would have deserved way more than a few stomps.

"Snowy," Lyra whispered to her windigo, moving her eyes so she gave the creature an overt glimpse. "Can't you help somehow? You can still make things cold, right?"

Snowy jolted and snapped to Lyra, so fast as if the pony had prodded her with something sharp.

"I- I suppose I could? I haven't lost my skills yet," she stuttered, shifting around in obvious discomfort. "But does Master truly want me to interfere? So far, our actions have proven to carry some... unintended consequences."

Lyra bit onto her lip and hummed to herself, rolling her eyes back to the librarian. Twilight had lost her fighting spirit; she was simply hugging the ground, hissing and cursing at variable levels of loudness. The target of her ire was invariably Spike; a fact that did not go amiss by the dragon, as he was trying to tend to the angered pony, mumbling things in a placating tone.

It really wasn't a happy scene.

Lyra groaned and rubbed her head, hard. A few days ago, she would have rushed there without so much as an afterthought. She had always preferred action to deliberation; that she had to ponder on such a clear-cut case was frustrating her.

"It's just some torn hair," she finally decided and motioned with her nose at the ailing Twilight. "Just apply some chill on her neck, m'kay? Don't overdo it. Just a little."

"As Master wishes." Snowy nodded dutifully and sprang into action. Despite her earlier misgivings, she seemed to be fully committed to her task. Her moves were fast and determined, betraying absolutely no doubt or hesitation.

She's like, devoted to a fault. Lyra smirked wryly as she watched the windigo hop over to Twilight. She's never once disobeyed me... not even in words. She's like The Perfect Servant.

At that point did Lyra realize that she was still resting on her side; so she rolled around and pulled her hooves under herself. It wasn't comfortable, moving on a carpet made of books; the hard covers and the sharp edges pushed and prodded her. Such lowly considerations barely got her attention, however. Lyra was so uncaring that her smirk had turned into a chuckle by the time she got up, in fact. Not because she was so happy, obviously.

She was simply losing her nerves under the pressure. She remembered what she had come for - and with each passing moment, she was getting closer to her confession to Twilight.

Please be in your better moods. Lyra interrupted her incessant giggling to take a jagged breath, just as she saw Snowy lean over Twilight's aching neck. Pretty please be in a good mood!





"I told you it's not a big deal," Twilight sighed. She didn't stop giving her neck some extra-careful patting, though. "It doesn't even hurt so much any more, I swear!"

"As if anypony believes that." Spike rolled his eyes. He threw another book onto the pile, then dragged the wobbling unicorn over to it. "There, lie down."

"Aha... thanks," Twilight mumbled and collapsed next to the makeshift cover. She groaned as she hit the ground, and let herself slide as gravity dictated. She wound up leaning against the cover Spike had just put together, her weight resting against the makeshift pile of books. It was a truly savage way of handling her prized possessions - and that she didn't care was a good indicator of her state.

At least that was what Lyra could immediately grasp from the scene.

"Maybe you're in a tiny bit of shock." Spike scratched his chin thoughtfully. Slowly moving his head around, he studied the mess that used to be the Golden Oak library. He realized the futility shortly afterwards; he exhaled loudly and shook his head in disbelief, then headed towards the stairs leading to the upper level. "You stay here! I'll go get some blankets."

"Shock, huh..." Twilight nodded aloofly, then curled up tightly. "Now that I think about it, I did feel pretty cold for a moment there."

Stumbling left and right as she made her way across the sea of books, Lyra found the time to chuckle dryly at the comment. She stepped on a thick brown tome, but the book gave away and slid from beneath her hoof; only a panicked stomp saved her face-planting herself into the floor. She gave the unreliable stand an angry glare and knocked it away. The brown tome drew a shallow arc in the air, bounced on a few different obstacles, finally disappearing from sight behind a low ridge of assorted newspapers.

"Nice kick. Three points." Twilight snickered tiredly at the sight, holding a little pause at the muffled cracking noise - the sound of the unfortunate tome landing. She seemed to have calmed down completely; her face only betrayed exhaustion. Her stare was unfocused and her blinks were lengthy, her movements sluggish and uncertain. Whatever fires had fuelled her had died down, leaving scant more than smouldering ruins behind.

"Three points, huh..." Lyra paid the compliment a confused snort. She also stopped in place, scanning the floor with a disapproving expression. She didn't feel like wading through more books at the moment. She was freshly healed, she didn't want to get injured again.

She could talk to Twilight just fine from the spot she was standing in, after all. She breathed in, loudly and deeply- held it back, steeled her nerves- then clenched her teeth, squeezed her eyes and let the words flow freely from her mouth.

Well, here goes nothing...!

"I need to tell you something." She blurted out. Her voice was flat and dull; she didn't keep the act any more. "I haven't been honest with you. When I came to ask about magics - for my novel - I was really-"

"I know what you were doing." Twilight nodded. She also stretched her legs, pulling them back to herself afterwards. "I'd be more interested in knowing why."

Whoa. Lyra flinched at the reveal, then grinned darkly - mostly to herself at her own expense. Well, as expected of Celestia's student... she's really sharp.

"Believe it or not, I've only been trying to help." She giggled bittersweetly. She reached out with a hoof and poked a book closer to her; one with a vivid red cover. She was getting so nervous, she needed something to fiddle with. "I just... didn't think it'd end this way, haha."

She may have been preparing for that speech, but she couldn't help being extremely nervous as she admitted to all her crimes. She needed a way to vent all those feelings; so she gave the red book a more powerful nudge. The thin tome flipped over and came to a rest all sprawled out, its open pages crumpling against the wooden floor.

"The cat's really out of the bag now," Snowy murmured and pat her master on her back. "It may not mean much, but I'm sure Master will be all right. Good intentions aren't ought to be punished harshly."

Lyra looked at the book longingly. She broke into a sombre chuckle, almost tearing up.

Her intentions were the very last thing anypony would care about. Especially in the light of her misguided rampage. She may get off lightly if Twilight could fix everything - but she wouldn't escape unscathed even then.

She wouldn't tell any of that to the windigo, however. Not for now. The least such a loyal servant deserved was the right to hope.

"Helping, huh... I see." Twilight glared at Lyra, her violet eyes full of dull disapproval. "What can I say? I'm... surprised, Lyra. I really hadn't taken you for one of those ponies."

Lyra let go of a single, hollow chuckle, then looked away as her teeth sunk into her lips. She hadn't taken herself to be a monster either. To be honest, she had no idea how she had become one in the first place.

"At least you came clean about it. Yeah... I've heard enough I think. Off with you now! I don't want to see you ever again." Twilight glanced away with a snort. She didn't sound upset; disgusted would really have been the best description. "I can accept that some ponies can't accept my brother marrying Cadence, but to actually use me to break up their wedding? You've gone really too far. Be glad I'm letting you off with just a warning!"

"Ha, well... I-" Lyra began her relieved thanks at being let off the hook, but the words froze to her tongue once her brain caught up to the conversation. Her eyes sprang open and her lower jaw dropped, the surprise completely numbing her senses. "Wait, what? Your brother? Cadence?"

What ARE you on about? ...was what Lyra had been meaning to ask, but dared not in the end. You just told me you knew what I was up to! Marriage?! Just... just what are you even talking about?!

She had the creeping suspicion that she had misunderstood something along the conversation.

"Playing daft won't net you any favours!" Twilight hit a more fierce tone again, sending a piercing glare at the dumbstruck musician. "I know it was you! Don't even deny it! You mentioned that Daring Do stuff, so it had to be you! You snuck those manuscripts into my drawer, didn't you? What were you even thinking - that I would be fooled into believing that I wrote novels? That I would read those obvious attempts at subterfuge, fall victim to whatever spell you had planted among those innocent-looking words?"

Lyra smiled. Not because she enjoyed the ludicrous claims, but because she couldn't do anything else. How could she even protest against such paranoid delusions? She had no idea about magic in the first place! Of course, trying to explain that would be pouring oil onto the fire - after all, tacitly denying everything is what a true hitmare would do.

But her own innocence was peanuts compared to the realization of how ridiculously she had screwed up earlier.

Just let that librarian enjoy a good read! Snowy, get rid of that Daring Do thing! It's not like she'd miss some light novels, right?

A giggle was lurking at the corners of Lyra's mouth, waiting in the bottom of her throat, ready to break free at a moment's notice. She could barely contain herself; she really wanted to break into laughter, to laugh until she cried from the pain.

She was losing her mind. She was sure of it.

How could I have known that it was her who wrote that freaking series?!

"And to think you were bold enough to mimic my hoofwriting! Didn't you think that I would remember if I had written that stuff myself?!" Twilight slammed a hoof onto the empty bookshelf next to her. "Look what you made me do! I had to tear this place apart, make sure you hadn't left any other traps around! All because you don't like the idea of a Princess marrying below rank! To think so lowly of my brother! To use me to disrupt the wedding, just because your stupid threats couldn't get it cancelled...! You, the likes of you...!"





Lyra's hooves dug into the ground. The soil was as concrete, baked dry and hard from the dry weather; but her momentum was such that she still managed to tear chunks of it, just by abruptly changing her direction. She threw herself to the right, narrowly avoiding the book that zipped by her left. It was close, very close; she felt the wind ruffling her coat there. She managed to duck nevertheless. She had arrived in the best possible spot too, just behind the door of the Golden Oak. She threw her back against open door and pushed. The hinges moved silently and without resistance; another push and the door was slammed shut.

Only then did Lyra allow herself a momentary breather. She dropped to the ground and panted, drops of sweat running down her neck.

"Che... close," she gasped, barely managing to utter the word before she had to do a dry swallow.

"I don't think I ever saw a pony being that angry!" Snowy whistled. Her crimson eyes were stuck at the door - though she was really thinking about the librarian on the other side. "To think that she even shared Master's opinion on class equality!"

"Ironic, ain't it..." Lyra giggled faintly - then jumped with a yelp. The door behind her rocked, the vibrations accompanied by disturbingly loud bangs.

Is she throwing books at the door? Lyra backed off, keeping her nervous eyes on the door. Is she this mad at me?

She got a clear answer to that question mere seconds later, when Twilight's raspy scream hit her ears.

"...AND NEVER COME BACK!"

Casting all rational considerations aside, Lyra stopped backing away. She had no idea what to do. She hesitated for a few minutes and finally collapsed to a sitting position, staring at the Golden Oak with empty, glassy eyes.

She couldn't think of anything, apart from one nagging fact: that she wasn't going to get any help from there. That she was left on her own, to deal with the fallout of her misguided actions. That the damages she had caused had just become permanent.

That her last hope had just sent her away - all because of the most stupid mistake she could have done.

She had no idea how long she sat there, staring and pondering in silence. It must have been for a while, because a half dozen ponies had gathered around her - gawking at her, prodding her, asking if she was all right.

Such nonsense questions those were.

Of course she wasn't all right, duh. She had nothing to share with bystanders, however. She sprang to her hooves once she had enough of the curious stares and cut across the small crowd, heading in a random direction.

She was lost, in all possible senses of the word.





"Master?"

Moving down the shadowy alleyway, Lyra peeked to the side and gave the windigo a bleak glare.

"Where are we going?" Snowy asked. She sounded worried - genuinely worried, almost terrified.

Try as she might, Lyra couldn't recall the ghost ever sounding like that. Perhaps back when we've first met, she rummaged through her memories. Back when I fell into that hole.

It should have been disconcerting, hearing the same tone again. The bad memories had lost their special grip on Lyra however; their power paled in comparison to the absolutely shoddy present she was 'enjoying'.

"We aren't going anywhere," she grumbled her answer. She didn't snap; she wasn't really angry. She wasn't even depressed any more either. She was only feeling empty - so completely empty.

Snowy didn't seem to like that answer much. She drooped her ears, visibly mulling over what she should have done.

Lyra didn't care much. The outside world barely interested her. The alley, the windigo, the rubbish bins she had just passed; all those details were compressed into short, dream-like pictures, hastily sewn together by a mind that could only care about images from the past.

She had barely been back, but had caused so many problems already. It was unbelievable. She had broken lives, broken friendships. She had even turned her sole possible help against her.

There was no way back either; the bridges behind her were already ablaze. No, not just the bridges - she had set the whole town on fire. She had destroyed everything she had touched. She had done so blindly, too. Happily, even. She had been living a delusion, only waking to reality once the ashes had buried her.

She wanted to confess, she really did; but she had no-one to confess to. No-one who could make a difference. She wanted to undo her mistakes, but she was worried she would only wind up repeating them. She wanted to rid herself from that terrible gift she had been given, but she knew that the memory of Snowy would haunt her forever... if she could have abandoned that loyal ghost in the first place.

I have no idea what to do. Someone please tell me what to do...

"It's not Master's fault." Snowy finally spoke up. "Master had only wanted to do good."

"Just who in Tartarus cares about what I wanted?! If wishes were horses, beggars would ride!" Lyra growled, passing a rubbish bin so close that her side actually bumped against it. "Look at what I've done! That's the only thing everypony else can see! What would they think, huh? They would think I'm some monster, that's what they'd think! A real, honest-to-Celestia monster... damn it."

She stumbled and careened off, walking sideways until her nose bumped into a wall. She took a paused there, leaning against the bricks and the flaking paint. She stared in front of her silently, her expression vacant. Then her lips turned into a snarl, her hoof slamming against the wall.

"DAMN! IT!"

A piece of paint fell off where her hoof had hit, landing on the ground, making a small cloud of white. Lyra looked at the porous cloud of grime, breathed in, tasted it; but she didn't really understand any of that experience. She was too busy reliving the past few days.

"Would it have been better not to try?"

That question was a box of high-yield explosives, derailing Lyra's thoughts without the slightest effort. She blinked in confusion, her mind adjusting to the new dilemma... until a strange feeling got hold of her, made her look up. She found herself locking stares with Snowy, the windigo observing her from the opposite side of the alley.

Observing and holding silent, waiting for her response.

"Don't look at me like that," Lyra mumbled. "I don't know, all right? I really don't know."

"Perhaps we have approached the issue the wrong way, then." Snowy squinted to the side, then bounced her crimson eyes back to her master. "Would Master have felt better had she not even tried? Could Master not even have tried?"

Squeezing her head back against the wall, Lyra furrowed her forehead. Such a strange thing to ask! Of course she would have been better had she never lifted a hoof. She would have been spared so much grief, both for her own self and for so many ponies around her.

-and yet, at the same time, she could distinctly recall her conviction from earlier. That she would help others if she were capable of doing so. That she would do the right thing, whenever she had a choice.

The right thing, huh?

"Just what was... just what is that 'right thing' I should have done, Snowy?" Lyra slumped to the dirty ground. "How could we end up here, when I always meant well?"

There was only one obvious answer to that, and Lyra chuckled when she found no ways around admitting to it.

"I've never been meant to be a hero." She laid a leg across her face. She didn't need anypony to see her anguish - not even her servant, if she could help it. "I wish I'd never tried to play- I wish I'd never tried to be something I never was...!"

Not being a hero left her with a nagging question, however.

What does that leave me, then?

She had nothing left she definitely was. Music was her everything, but she had already lost that as well. She only had Bon left, but a friendship with a singular pony a life didn't define.

Lying at the base of the flaking wall, Lyra Hearstrings bumped a hoof against her head. Then she pretended her tears were because of that pain.

There was nothing Lyra could have claimed as her purpose. She had completely ruined her own life, just so that she could ruin that of others' as well. There was nothing heroic or even tragic about her ordeal; she only felt stupid and hollow over her story. She felt so hollow she was ready to just lie next to that wall until she disappeared completely-

Then something blue appeared in her vision, waving and nagging at her until she had no choice but to break her melancholic gaze.

"Then let's try returning to what Master had meant to be," Snowy smiled straight into her face. "If collateral is Master's foremost worry, then surely playing music would be a fine choice? A safe choice, too."

Her side scraping against the flaking wall as she breathed, Lyra couldn't help herself. She burst into a loud, raspy cackle.

"A choice, she says!" She lunged her head forward then snapped it back, slamming it hard against the exposed bricks. The impact disoriented her, but as she was already lying on the ground, she had no fear of stumbling or falling again. That was good; for it allowed her to focus on what was really at the forefront of her mind.

Anger, specifically. Anger born out of her inability to follow that advice. She would have given anything to play music again. To feel normal, even for just one more time.

"Snowy, I have less than a week until I'd have to perform at Major Mare's festival! And I- I can't remember ANYTHING from playing music! It's impossible, you know? Discord would sooner pop out of the sky in pink overalls and declare me the Pony Princess of Numbskullery than me managing to master the lyre in one single week!"

The outburst didn't bother Snowy much. She raised her translucent eyebrows and leaned to Lyra, her mouth pulling to a grin as the distance between them decreased.

"I exist to help Master achieve whatever dreams Master may have." She winked slyly at the distraught musician. "If recovering Master's old life is our desire and there's only one week to prepare... then we will succeed with what we have."

"Yeah. That's totally how it works," Lyra rolled her eyes.





"Hah! I always forget how easily this works for you," Bon giggled. She was sitting on the bed and waved her front legs as if she was a maestro. She had no idea what she was doing, though; she simply looked like a filly who was having a lot of fun. 

Lyra tried to pay that no mind. Music did that. It was a powerful force, more than most gave it credit for. Ponies were easily lost in good music. The tones, the rhythm - they acted like some sort of hypnotizer. 

Not just ponies, actually. The few times she had held concerts outside of Equestria, she saw the same reactions in the crowds. Heck, she had a gryphon propose to her after one particular-

A really odd note broke out of the lyre and shattered her idle musing, forcibly returning her focus to the instrument.

"Whoa," she cringed, trying to clear that offending sound from ears. She immediately knew what had gone wrong, though. Her thoughts had wandered off and she had failed to pay attention to what she was doing. Which was pretty much just mimicking what Snowy was showing.

That feint was what they had been practising for almost eight hours straight at that point. It was cheating - the worst kind of cheating a musician could stoop to - but it was the only way Lyra could appear in front of a crowd next week. She had no choice but to take it.

In the span of one and a half day, the windigo had advanced from zero understanding in music to being able to follow a score - even play the simpler songs. That didn't make Snowy an accomplished musician, of course; she couldn't deal with anything difficult and got lost in just trying to read the more complicated instructions. The pace was still nothing sort of breakneck, however.

Lyra had found herself completely floored when Snowy had first begun guiding her. The windigo had understood Lyra's training notes on at mere second read, to the point where all the pony had to do was follow the cues. Though for a scatterbrain such as Lyra, that had proven challenging from time to time. Her mind could jump tracks and wander onto the wildest fantasies with minimal outside provocation.

"Peing!" Bon tried to echo the glitchy sound, then drooped her ears and left her hooves hanging. "That didn't sound like you wanted that. Getting tired yet?"

"Nah... just got a little distracted," Lyra scratched her head with an embarrassed giggle, placing the lyre to the floor at her side.

"It's no big loss, Master. I think I was a little off anyway," Snowy hummed. She eyed the old notebook closely, her crimson gaze zig-zagging back and forth on the lines of squiggly symbols. She must have stumbled onto something though, for she clicked her tongue and nudged at a specific part with her nose. "Ah-ha! A switch of pace, right here! How sneaky. Allegro moderato... hmm. That's about a hundred and ten beats a minute, right? So that would go like... pam, pam, pam-pam-paaam, pam..." 

Lyra knew she couldn't ever explain why, but she found this side of Snowy a lot scarier than when she was erasing memories. The windigo made all her years spent learning look wasted in retrospect. She couldn't help but shake her head at the rapid development. Losing her music was quite bad enough, but seeing the ease with which she was overtaken? That wasn't just pouring salt on the wound. That was putting her in a salt-filled barrel and then dropping her off in the nearest ocean.

Then dropping a meteor of pure salt on her, just to be on the safe side.

"You're like, completely insane... learning everything in bloody hours and days," Lyra grumbled to herself as she picked the lyre back up. She raised the instrument to her eye level and checked the strings, making sure they were all tight enough. She couldn't help but chuckle dryly at the ingrained routine; while she had forgotten how to play the darned thing, she was still very clear on how she could maintain it.

"Whuh?" Bon perked her ears. She noticed that Lyra had said something, but thankfully couldn't figure the hushed mumbling out. "You said something?"

"Nup." Lyra bit onto her tongue with haste, huddling closer to her lyre. She had wanted to spare herself from a good head-bashing and had never told Bon about how she had forgotten how to play music. It didn't feel like such a good decision now, a few days down the road. She couldn't exactly just bring it up any more either, however; that ship had already sailed. Coming clean would have to wait for the next, natural-seeming opportunity.

"I simply have a lot of practice, I suppose!" Snowy giggled happily, uncaring for the latest hole her master was digging herself into. The windigo kept on studying the old notebook closely, the small bobs of her head accenting the various notes her gaze wandered over. "Given my powers, I must have lost my memories a number of times... so I had to re-learn everything from scratch a lot of times, too."

"Practice makes perfect, huh?" Lyra raised her eyebrows with a resigned sigh. She ran her tongue down her lips, breathed in, hugged the lyre and-

"Are you still not hungry?" Bon groaned from the bed. With her head dug into the blanket, it was hard not to tell how disapproving she was. "Lyra, lunch is now a full hour overdue. I understand your love for your trade, but I'm really going to drag you to the kitchen at this rate."

Lyra paid that remark an absent-minded nod. She would eat - once she and Snowy had managed to play that song from start to finish. If they could do that much, then they could advance to a more difficult lesson in the afternoon... and then playing in front of a crowd next week wouldn't be an impossible nightmare either.

"Just one more time." She squeezed the words out, her face stiffening as she forced herself to focus properly. Her vision narrowed onto Snowy's legs; that moment, Lyra's world was nothing but her lyre and the two ghostly hooves that kept prodding at it. She inhaled loudly, kept the air down, and began following the motions.

Music filled the air around her, and she felt her nerves calm a tiny bit.

It may have been brief, but it was still nice, being her old self again.
> 25 - Strange bedfellows
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It may be a tired idiom, but days can pass barely unnoticed if one's having fun.

In fact, a whole week felt like a blink-and-miss experience for the panicking musician who was learning how to mimic her former trade - and was slated to perform at the local town parade. A performance that was due in less than two hours.

The tightness of the deadline made every distraction feel like a huge drag, too. Distractions such as-

"Soup's almost ready!" Bon yelled from the kitchen.

Not now. Lyra furrowed her forehead. 

Despite her frustration at the interjection, the thought got stuck in her head. There was something weird about having soup at that part of the day. Pulling the strings following the instructions of her ghost, she glanced aside real quickly. The clock on the wall confirmed the source of her confusion; it was barely past ten.

Isn't it kinda early for lunch? Lyra frowned, but she couldn't pursue that suspicion any longer. She had to yank her gaze - and attention - back to Snowy; she was already deviating from the windigo's hints. Had that been the real thing, her audience could have noticed the slip.

Though then again, it wasn't like she would be performing at the Opera. She only had to provide some tangy tune for Major Mare's speech and subsequent festival. The amateurism of the organization was obvious: the selection of the artists performing along with her couldn't have been more random. It was likely that the soft tunes of her lyre would be overpowered right away. She simply had to be present and look as if she was playing something. The actual music was irrelevant; the whole purpose of the event was so that the Major could emphasize her own importance.

Had some unfortunate events not occurred in the last few weeks, Lyra would have found the whole business utterly depressing. However, as things stood, she had no issues with serving as a living decoration. Had she had to have done an actual performance where her music counted, she would have had no choice but to cancel-

-PEING!

Shuddering at the sharp, intrusive sound, Lyra clenched her teeth and pulled her head away.

Got distracted again. She sighed. I guess they surely would have noticed this, huh?

"Was I going too fast again?" Snowy came into her view by leaning over her shoulder. "We could pick a slower song if Master feels more comfortable that way."

Oi! Stop sounding as if you're the expert here! Lyra glared angrily at the windigo. Her anger was fleeting at best though, for she groaned morosely the next moment. Ah heck, who am I kidding? I'm pretty much just an ordinary idiot now.

An ordinary idiot who could perform at a festival - solely because she had a ghostly servant to cheat with.

Cheating, cheating, cheating! Everything around Snowy always revolves about cheating.

Even though suspended in the air by her magic, the lyre felt heavy; it pulled on her. Setting it onto the floor with extreme care, Lyra followed the instrument with her eyes. She felt ambivalent on the whole issue. She had growing worries over this performance and didn't really like the solution she had decided on. On the other hoof, she had no skills of her own any more. She couldn't exactly turn down the Major's request either... so she had to go along, reluctant as she was.

Reluctant because of that singular warning - a sentence that was stuck in her head, had been repeating itself countless times for the last dozen days.

Is there going to be a price for this, as well?

She poked the lyre absent-mindedly and narrowed her eyes to a slit. Her plan felt so petty that she couldn't bear to look in the mirror for days already. But that couldn't have been it, right? There was going to be something else as well. A price for this newest cheat of hers.

What could it be?

At this point, what do I have to lose?

"Lyra! Food!"

"I'm coming... mom." Lyra rolled her eyes, heavily emphasizing the last word. She leaned forward and stumbled onto her hooves, moving out of her room at a languished pace.





"I now see that Master quite often fancies curious breakfast menus." Snowy bobbed her head to the side. She was sitting hunched over, her limbs all in awkward angles; it was a little cramped on the oven, with all the dishes lying about. Still, she would rather suffer than sit anywhere else.

Closer to the centre of the kitchen, Lyra was staring down at the bowlful of steaming bean soup - and she couldn't help but agree with her windigo.

"Er, Bon. Don't take this the wrong way, but- why?" She scratched her head, eyeing the murky liquid with suspicion. It smelled wonderful - but that wasn't the problem in the first place. "You're combining lunch and breakfast now? Is this even a thing?"

"It's not like you'll get to have a proper meal later... Might as well get you going for the most of the day." Bon prodded Lyra on the back of her neck. "Now be a good musician and stuff your face."

"You can't just mash meals together like that!" Lyra rebelled, turning to her friend with righteous anger in her eyes. "This is like, breaking the rules! Somewhere! Somehow!"

"A splendid proposition!" Snowy nodded earnestly, though the notion was barely visible from her cramped position. "Given all the countries with their arbitrary rules, any action we take could be breaking a rule somewhere. This one in particular."

Argh! Just stop... Lyra squeezed her eyes closed and inhaled - only to realize she had no specific ideas to lodge against Snowy. Just stop being yourself for a second! Pretty please?

"Naughty Lyra!" Bon gave her friend a light slap. "You've got a long day ahead! You need proper nutrients and energy - imagine the papers if you made a scene by fainting!"

"Yeah, yeah. Because a random no-pony like me would be the most important news all day long," Lyra rolled her eyes and pointed at the fresh newspaper on the desk. "Look at this one, for example! Scandal at the Equestrian Royal Bank! See how forged loan records netted a... swindler... untold riches..."

The next few moments must have reassured Bon in her earlier warning, for Lyra came close to blacking out all of a sudden. The room spun around her and she stumbled, catching herself barely before her head knocked her plate off the table.





"Always down!" Lyra chirped. Something was driving her to giggle, to laugh; but what left her mouth was closer to nervous gibberish. Her lips and tongue were too numb to follow the hasty directions her mind dictated. "It's always down! No matter how deep I am, there's still always new depths to sink to! Haven't I suffered enough? How many times does that psycho want to drag my face through the mud?!"

It was a rhetorical question, but there was no-one to answer it anyway. The street was rather empty, and the few bystanders couldn't make out much from her mumbling and ignored her completely. Only a younger colt gave her a curious glare, but a shrug was all he had to say regarding the matter. It's not like he could have understood just what made the famous lyricist so upset.

Snowy was the only soul who could understand Lyra, both the words and the meaning behind them. Her master's anger was enough to warrant her silence however. She followed Lyra from three steps' distance, listening eagerly - but with openly born caution as well.

"I only wanted to help!" Lyra snorted and yanked her head skywards sharply. It wasn't an intentional movement; her suppressed twitches combined into a more potent form, like how waves overlap and strengthen each other. "Is that a crime? Or is this just for kicks? Snowy! Say something, you good-for-nothing scoundrel-!"

Snowy drooped her ears at the mention. Her head also fell towards the ground; she was dragging herself as if a giant baseball-bat had just smashed into the back of her head.

"I'm... sorry?" She weaved her muttering into a loud sigh. "Had I known Master would turn out like this, I would have never-"

"Don't apologize! Or by Celestia I swear, you're going to be the next one I'm gonna' try to help!" Lyra shot an angered glare over her back. She turned around just long enough for the windigo to see her bared teeth. She yanked her head forward after that, her tired eyes scanning her surroundings for a place that sold food.

She couldn't eat any of what Bon had cooked up. She had to get out of the house, away from that newspaper; that panicking desire was so strong that it had overridden everything else in her. She was prowling the streets when she came to again... and she was sure that this amnesia had little to do with Snowy.

"What else can I do?" Snowy whined. Realizing she wasn't getting any attention, the windigo chose a more pro-active approach; she produced another of her acrobatic leaps, landing in front of her startled master. "How could I not be sorry for what has transpired? I harmed Master, in more ways than one! Had I known that my actions would backfire so badly... I would have surely ignored Master all together!"

Lyra paid the trembling blue figure a surprised blink. She then shook her head aloofly and broke into a cackle - a proper one, this time.

"Yeah. And had I known that your leaser was a bloodthirsty trickster, I would have asked things of you a lot more carefully." She snickered half-aloud, only pulling her lips into a proper grin when she noticed another pedestrian staring at her. "Believe it or not, I'm clever enough to realize who the real culprit is here- ha, finally!"

Both pony and windigo stopped at the exclamation. Lyra's eyebrows jumped higher and her eyes regained some glitter, her amber pupils zeroed in on the sign Sugarcube Corner.

"A bakery." Snowy stated the obvious with reverence befitting the greatest discoveries.

"Let's grab something to munch," Lyra motioned at the Sugarcube. "Today's already bad enough, no need to have my rumbling stomach interrupt the festival."

Snowy gave a half-hearted nod, then fell back in line behind her master.





"Aaah, it's been ages since I've come here!" Lyra sighed as she walked through the doorway. She sounded pleased; the sudden gush of nostalgia painted pink clouds over her troubled mind. "All those muffins and croissants and- and-"

She was maybe a step inside the building when she froze solid. A part of her kept trying to talk, evidenced by her silently moving mouth; but the overwhelming majority of her was only willing to stare in utter confusion. Perhaps do a blink, occasionally.

"Whoa." Snowy parked next to her master, joining the pony in her stupor. "I have no idea what they're selling in here, but I can already tell that the customers are rather unusual!"

The startled reactions did not go unnoticed by their subject. The giant spider turned around with the elegance of a wronged lord, moving only one of his eight legs at a time. Coincidentally, this also gave him plenty of chances to shoot angry glares from his many yellow eyes.

Lyra couldn't so much as gawk. She wasn't really sure if she was dreaming, actually; the whole scene was as bizarre as some of her more outlandish dreams.

Seeing her master descend into complete shock, Snowy bided her time as well. Much more relaxedly, though; she sat down and stared expectantly, trying to keep both the spider and her master in her sights.

The spider, having fully turned around, seemed to be at a loss himself. He stood on the desk in silence, and scratched his head. Finally he looked around - almost as if he was counting on some kind of disturbance to break the awkward mood - then groaned loudly.

"Well, shoot. Of course the Boss wouldn't bother showin' up this once!" He gave his head another, harder scratch. Then he stretched out the same leg, the hairy limb pointed at the newcomers. "Think I haven't heard yer' name yet, missie. Is there a problem with me ears, perhaps? Or did the kittie take yer' tongue? Mabbe' ya' forgot how to speak?"

Lyra jolted at the random insults; but she had also found her voice at that instant. A humongous spider sitting in the Sugarcube - that was something she couldn't even believe, much less find a grip on. But a humongous spider talking smack at her?

She was very experienced in dealing with that sort of stuff; to the point where she could overlook the other, more bothersome details. Which was another thing she was also pretty good at.

"Could have sworn I haven't heard yours either." She offered a growl with the least sincere looking smile. "Where I come from, gentlecolts introduce themselves first."

"And I dun' give a flippin' hoot where ya' come from! This be our turf, so we're makin' them rules here! Ya' see, missie -  yer' the one pokin' yer nose where it doesn't belong! Showin' up with that memory-devouring malcontent no less!" The spider slammed his front four legs onto the table. The flimsy piece of furniture withstood the barrage quite well - it didn't even rock around in the slightest.

Not even the napkin-holder jumped.

For a blow of four legs to carry that little power...

He's either the most inept spider - or he's a ghost. Lyra raised her eyebrows high, a small 'oh' slipping past her lips. The joy of discovery was soon drowned out by the more sombre parts of the same realization, though. Sweet Celestia, our baker has her own servant as well?! Since when? This spider could have been staying here for years and I wouldn't have known - nopony could have known -!

"You know me - wait, you actually see me!" Snowy sprang up, her crimson eyes burning with excitement. "So you're also a- oh wait. Are you a master or a servant?"

Ignoring the rules of common etiquette, Lyra let out a loud groan and lowered her head into her hooves.

"He's a servant. He's obviously a servant," she moaned into her hoof.

"Must be me ears. Can't help it, but I ain't hearin' none of what I want." The spider folded two of his legs, his disapproval palpable. "Yer' tryin' to pick a fight, missie? Cause' we ain't backin' down if ya' want one."

Lyra's head bounced back up, violently enough for her mane to pull on her neck.

"What? No! I didn't come to pick a fight, I came for something to eat!" She cried out hastily, snapping her hoof at the counter, at the various sweets on display. "I didn't even know you were here! I, uh... I haven't introduced myself yet, have I."

The spider nodded slowly and solemnly; though lacking a neck, he looked as if he was doing a botched yoga routine.

"I'm Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings." Lyra bobbed her head, then motioned at the windigo on her right. "And this is Snowy, my windigo. She uh... she does stuff. Pretty harmless usually, haha!"

Snowy ignored the nervous laughter at the end, and made a small bow when her name was mentioned.

"Sure, harmless. Whatever ya' say, Lyra... but do keep a leash on her, m'kay? I mean, I've seen her destroy nations... all with the same nonchalant, I don't remember smile." The spider scoffed and looked away in thinly veiled contempt. "Keep in mind, missie - me boss likes this place. So if ya' get any big ideas... well, let's just say we wouldn't want you to have an accident, do we now?"

S-scary! Lyra gulped. She kept her smile, but just barely; a tremble rippled over her lips. Should I be worried right now? I mean, he's a servant like Snowy, right? He's got powers, right? I should be worried, right? Like, super-worried! ...right?

Though if she were completely honest with herself, she would have had to admit that she was worrying about a foregone conclusion.

She was already deathly afraid of that spider.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that!" Snowy giggled and waved a hoof in the air. She hadn't noticed, but her master's jaw dropped and remained hanging, the pony's head slowly pivoting in the windigo's direction. "Master gets into accidents all the time. One more or less surely wouldn't make that big a difference, um... I'm sorry, who were you again?"

Oiii! Sure, he's calling it accident - but he's meaning a whole different kind of accident! Lyra winced, her brain scrambling to find a quick way to shut the windigo down. Preferably before she found herself in a ditch filling with concrete, that is.

"Left yer' manners at home, haven't ya, Nix? Reminds me what I've always found odd about ya'. Yer' always so brazen... or simply stupid. Did cha' forget it's rare to be bold and old?" The spider wiggled around. He was trying to shake his head, but without a neck, it looked as if he was doing a small dance on the table. "But anyway, I figured yer' memory would fail ya' again. I go by Axiom... and 'am also the one who detests ya the most, ya' good-for-nothing ice-demon. Get this written down somewhere, right-o?"

"Axiom... I see. Pleasure's mine." Snowy produced a deep bow.

A mere step away and right in the middle of the crossfire, Lyra couldn't help but wonder whether her servant was being sarcastic. She couldn't imagine that praise being genuine - but with Snowy, it was always hard to tell.

"Ah. See? Yer' still not failing to creep me out!" The spider rubbed two of his legs against his face. He then snapped them at the windigo, turning his voice up a notch or two. "Well, I dunno' what the boss would say - but I've had it with ya' two! Out! Out, and don't ya ever-"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Shoving customers out the door isn't smart business."

The words were still ringing in the air when the spider had already executed a panicky retreat. He squeezed against the table as tightly as possible, his eight legs grabbing onto the ledge so hard that he would have flipped the whole thing over - had he not been a ghost in the first place, that is.

"Long time no see, Pinkie!" Lyra nodded curtly, giving the pink pony a small grin. For a mere baker, Pinkie showed an impeccable sense of timing; though Lyra had a sneaking suspicion that Pinkie had been hiding behind the kitchen's door throughout or the whole conversation, waiting for the right moment.

Lyra gave a little frown and wrinkled her eyebrows. That thought made her more morose than she had already been.

I couldn't have forgotten about these idiotic suspicions, could I? No, I had to forget about playing the frickin' lyre! OF! COURSE!

"Long time no see indeed! I was beginning to think you you'd forgotten where my humble shop was!" Pinkie forgot about her happy-go-lucky persona for a moment. She also shook her hoof angrily, though her distant gaze hinted that her object of frustration was not present. "It's that hack of a doctor, isn't it? She told you that my sugar would make you explode, didn't she?"

Lyra smiled sweetly, blinked in utter confusion, and was pretty sure that her quota of surreal experiences had been filled for the day.

"I knew it!" Pinkie slammed her hoof against the ground - and continued in a charming voice completely at odds with her posture. "Well, worry not! I can honestly tell you that so far none of my customers have ever come back to complain about exploding! And I absolutely, definitely didn't bake cookies where I mixed up the dough with exploding clay. Which, by the way, was also in no way related to the disappearance of the previous library."

Still smiling, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows.

"Err... you know what?"

Her brain may have been objecting, but her stomach also joined in the discussion - and while her thoughts were loud, the very physical growls of her tummy were even louder.

"Having a nice breakfast is totally worth the risk of exploding. You got anything fresh?"

Pinkie didn’t take the compliment in the way Lyra had expected of her. The pink pony frowned and eyed Lyra with a suspicious expression.

"You implying that I would serve something that isn't?"





Crumbs littered the shiny surface of the table. They weren't ordinary crumbs either; they were sticky with assorted sugary sweets. Somepony would undoubtedly have a field day later, cleaning all that off.

Lyra didn't care one bit about that, however. She didn't even notice, in all fairness; after skipping the so-called 'breakfast' Bon had cooked up, those rolls were the best thing in the last few days of her life.

"Somepony's hungry," Pinkie pondered. She was resting her head on her hooves, which were in turn resting on the table.

Standing at the other end of that very table, Lyra felt strange about the pose. It seemed comfortable but was quite unlike ponies. It even made her wonder if the baker was also studying the theoretical ergonomics of hands - but then she took another bite of the sweet roll and promptly forgot about the matter.

"Tafty!" She mumbled with her mouth full, showering the table with half-chewed crumbs this time.

"Surprise, surprise! Turns out I am a pretty decent baker after all, tee-hee!" Pinkie grinned devilishly. She found something to be amiss however - which she noted by darting her eyes to the side, shooting a piercing glare at her pet ghost-spider. "Monseniour, if I may?"

"Yer' the boss, Boss. Hope ya' know what yer' doin', tho'." Axiom growled. By his tone, he was having as much fun as a rusting bucket left out in the rain. He understood his duty though, and cleared away from the vicinity.

"Thanksies," Lyra gave a relieved sigh at the spider's departure, then floated the next roll to her mouth. She took another bite and strawberry flavour flooded her mouth. It wasn't quite as good as the cinnamon ones, probably because she wasn't as hungry at that point; but she was still ecstatic over the taste. "My fweet Celeftia, thif fing if awefome! Pinkie, am fo glad I never thought to help y- uh-"

The roll got stuck in her mouth, and Lyra couldn't figure out what to do with it. All of a sudden, she didn't feel like she could swallow any more. She was simply standing at the table, blinking rapidly, her lips curling in a feeble attempt to smile.

Uuurgh... still not quite good enough at this watch-your-mouth game, am I...

Pinkie's eyes widened at the comment, but her reaction proved Lyra's worries baseless. The pink pony rolled her head to the side, then used her freshly freed hoof to wave at the former musician.

"Meh, it's okay! Don't sweat it, it's not like the world has ended! In fact, everything's gonna' be fine!" Pinkie giggled in a carefree tone, her pink mane bobbing up and down as she waved. "I mean, apart from a few minor hiccups? Like how AJ is probably going to get dragged through newspaper-hell. Or that Rarity is going to be digging trees for the rest of her life. And well, now that I brought my other friends up... I'm kinda going to miss Twilight. She's, ah, staying in Canterlot after the wedding as I heard. And there's Dash- oh wait, we don't talk about Dash any more! Nor do we talk to her, for that matter. Seriously, you should hear the things coming from her mouth! ...or, hehe, you might rather not. I never realized she was such a pretentious boastard."

Lyra's nose made a perfect touchdown on the table, rearranging the crumbs and sending the intact rolls flying in shallow arcs.

"Told ya' they're trouble, boss." Axiom narrowed his many eyes. He was staring pretty judgementally, hanging from the ceiling in the most remote corner of the Sugarcube. "I keep tellin' ya, in fact - only, yer' as stubborn as if I was- I dunno', as if I was extortin' money from ya'! It's this ice-demon that has broken all yer' friends! And ya' better hope yer' country doesn't follow-"

The ghostly spider couldn't miss how Pinkie's entire head swivelled toward him, the blue eyes colder than the coldest spot of the whole world.

"Sure thing boss, keep me big mouth zipped up. Did ya' lotsa' good so far," Axiom huffed and turned to face the wall in - from now on silent - protest.

Pinkie snorted triumphantly at her easy victory, then returned her attention to the other pony at her table.

"Thanks... but he's right. It's true. All of that... I did all of it. It's all my fault." Lyra mumbled, her face laying on the shiny, lacquered surface of the table. She couldn't find any sweetness left in those rolls; she didn't have any taste whatsoever. The brief spot of normalcy had come and gone, and she was back to the same reality she had known before she had entered the bakery. "I don't know how or why... I didn't mean any of it. It all just... happened."

"Looks like you didn' take it so well either," Pinkie sighed.

Face-down on the table, Lyra couldn't see the pink pony's expression - but going by the voice, she was sure that Pinkie was trying to dull the edge of the whole situation. She stirred at the realization; it didn't make sense that she would be forgiven. Not so easily. Not even by a lunatic such as Pinkamena Diane Pie.

"I wouldn't fret so much over it, though!" Pinkie reached out and patted Lyra on the head, prompting the former musician to snort and stare in confusion. "Almost every master has honest intentions... and since we're still playing, they have all failed one way or the other. I wouldn't worry about being a bad chef if all the others have come up short as well - so why should you? It seems these ingredients simply don't want to mix into a happy ending, no matter how you stir them."

Dragging her head upwards as she pushed against the table, Lyra gave Pinkie a sneer. She didn't like how the baker was trying to comfort her - not one bit. She didn't need sympathy over the tragedies she had brought about. She wanted to be called out on them, to get her mistakes pointed out. She longed for punishment - whenever she was not being deathly afraid of actually being punished, that is.

Ugh. What's wrong with me? Lyra shook her head, hoping that the move would throw her scattered thoughts into order.

"At least you tried." Pinkie smirked, hitting a strangely soothing tone.

A soothing tone which finally pushed Lyra over the edge.

"Are you going to compliment me over the whole mess? Seriously?"

She was growling, she was sneering; she just couldn't help herself.

"Not quite, no. But it's not like I can let you wallow in pity either, can I?" Pinkie threw a mischievous wink. "Look, Lyra. All my friends went to Canterlot a few days ago. They're attending the wedding, you see? So, since that happened, I'm pretty sure Celestia knows of their woes already. And to be honest, knowing her... I wouldn't be surprised if the newspapers mysteriously forgot about AJ. Or if Rarity found a bunch of customers out of the blue. You meant well and things might return to normalcy... so don't start crying all over my table, okay?"

Lyra wasn't exactly crying. She was closer to gasping. Hearing how her mistakes would be cleaned up; that was something new to her. Something new and completely reinvigorating. She was so overjoyed by the possibility that she could even ignore how bleakly Pinkie had described the situation earlier.

For most parts, anyway. Her insistent moodiness readily pointed out a few holes in the story.

"What about Twilight? Or Dash?" She gave the pink pony a distrusting look. She wasn't sure what she was hoping for - that she would be surprised yet again and the world turned out to be full of sunshine and happiness, or that she would successfully discredit her best chance at being happy.

The question turned Pinkie surprisingly sober. She stopped smiling and simply nodded, her eyes wandering downward, onto the table.

"Celestia's pretty good... but even I don't think that she could fix everything." She declared in a flat tone, her blue eyes resting on the shiny, white rectangle a window cast onto the table. "That would need someone omnipotent! And omnipotent Celestia isn't. Perhaps someone on the level of Discord... buuut, well... considering his idea of normalcy..."

Lyra paid that correction a curt nod. But of course. It did sound a little too good, all the disasters she had brought about being cured by a princess-induced miracle.

"So why didn't you go with the others?"

It was a clumsy attempt at changing the topic, but it was also the best she could do. She had heard enough about the ponies she had wrecked; especially since she suspected that she might have heard the best part already. There was no need for her to hear how limited the recovery would be. She would deal with the consequences one day - or the consequences would catch up to her on their own. One way or another, she wouldn't get away scot-free.

Scot-free... the phrase pulled the tip of her lips into a wry grin.

As if I didn't crash my old life as well!

She was pretty sure that no longer being able to play the lyre wouldn't placate any of her victims too much, though.

"Well, they are my friends, but we're not chained together just yet." Pinkie frowned and held her front hooves roughly in line with her nose. "Or would you prefer me hoof-cuffed and bagged on the train, headed for some princess justice?"

Her wry smile turning into a cautiously puzzled one, Lyra nodded deeply and took another roll into her mouth. She understood that was meant to be a joke - but she couldn't even force herself to keep smiling, much less laugh.

"Oh, right. You're probably not in the mood for these quips just yet," Pinkie discerned with ease. She shook her head as she moved away from the table, making her way to the counter. "Guess I don't get to use my brilliant joke about stripes making me look fat, huh?"

"So you skipped going together with the others... because you weren't sure if they would get into trouble?" Lyra cleaved the roll in two as her jaws clenched.

"Silly Lyra. I'm always where my delicious insanity is needed the most! I stuck around because I was perfectly certain those five would be fine in Canterlot." Pinkie giggled, then grabbed a plateful of sweets and made her way back to Lyra's table. "And the'e a'e alfo many good feasonf fo' me to avoid Cante'ot!"

Lyra cocked her head to the side. Partly because she could see the contents of the plate better this way, and partly because she couldn't understand a word of what Pinkie had said. Literally, this time; the pink pony had tried to talk and balance the plate in her mouth at the same time.

"I understand you even less when you talk with your mouth full." She winked at the pink pony and reached for a fresh - still hot - roll.

"Oh, I was just saying that I've still got other good reasons to skip this wedding!" Pinkie shrugged and settled next to the table herself. She slapped a roll on the side, her blue eyes following the tumbling piece of sweet across the polished surface. "Reasons like that gangster-wannabe in the corner."

Lyra raised her eyebrow and turned around. Pinkie's servant was still sulking in the corner, closely watched by an openly curious Snowy.

"Yep, that no-gooder!" Pinky frowned and groaned, then slapped her hoof on the roll, flattening it. "Axiom would follow me to Canterlot - or anywhere else, really. You know how these servants are. Anyway, once we're in Canterlot, he would just get into another fight with the Princesses' servants... and then everypony would feel completely awkward. Again. I mean, can you imagine having to sit through a wedding while there are invisible ghosts screaming at each other, nagging at you to decide which of them is correct? Ugh."

Lyra yanked her head back, so quickly that the roll sticking out of her mouth broke free and flew away.

"Servant? Princess?" She blinked and felt very confused. That piece of news should have come as a shock; by all rational expectations, she should have been looking for her jaw on the floor. She wasn't, however; and that was an equally surprising turn of events. She could have sworn she remembered a princess being involved in the game. She was sure she had heard of it before, somewhere...

"Yep, a whole bunch of them. It's like a zoo... with less cages. And well, less living animals. So it's basically a zoo that's nothing like a zoo?" Pinkie mused. Her explanation came to a dead-end however, so she paused and gave her chin a scratch. Then she noted the remains of a flattened roll on her hoof.

Lyra gave that nonsense an absent-minded nod, her attention focused on her own spotty memories. She was sure she had had a conversation where the princess was brought up. She could remember sitting in a room, listening to a raving lunatic - hearing about strange facts like his bad relationship with an abominable white princess, and how that crowned hag blackmailed him into foalnapping tourists -

Lyra smacked a hoof into her head. It was such a sudden action that everypony around her broke into a shudder - even Snowy, who had the fewest reasons to be afraid of her.

Lyra couldn't care less for the startled reactions, though. She had finally pieced together the fragments of her memories, and her joy over the achievement overshadowed any concerns such as decency.

It was that perverted viscount. She mused to herself, moving the earlier hoof up and down, giving the aching side of her head a scratch. It had to be him. He was in my room - I've only forgotten about him being around because of Snowy. The argument I remember, it was with him! He told me how Celestia had blackmailed his ancestors and that he was being made to draw Snowy out of the amulet... wait a second.

She had never paid that crazy story much mind, but now as she thought about it, the details seemed to click together nicely. Celestia was an ageless immortal; so she would have the means to manipulate a whole lineage of a noble family, were she in the mood. Of course, based on the reputation of the Sun Princess, Lyra would have dismissed such ideas as inane fantasies before.

Right until Pinkie had pointed out the many servants milling about in Canterlot.

Was Snowy to be part of that collection, I wonder? Lyra scraped the hoof along the side of her head. She was also chewing on a sweet roll, but it was more of a mechanical reflex than any actual eating at this point. It would explain why they wanted to make Snowy come out, I guess. But why would Celestia even need these servants? It's not like they do anything good. They're more of a punishment - they bring nothing but misfortune! Heck, if it wasn't for... uh... if it wasn't for Celestia, my trail of rampage would be... so severe...

Lyra felt the gears in her head grind to a halt. Even her internal voice fell silent.

How come a pony with so many servants was fixing the issues that she and her one servant had caused? Actually-

-actually, is it possible that she's not using her political powers?

Humming deeply, Lyra wrinkled her forehead at the possibility. When she had listened to how Applejack's and Rarity's problems would go away, she had assumed that Celestia would just throw her importance into the ring. However, after hearing about that other possibility, she couldn't help but wonder if-

-what if she's using her own servants to fix these problems? Could she do that? I mean, she has a few thousand years' of experience over me, so why not? Though in this case... wouldn't this mean that Snowy's powers weren't inherently bad? That it was only... that it was only me that had caused-

The thought evaporated from her mind when she sensed something touch her nose. Surprised by the sudden physical contact, Lyra reared back; but the move was panicked and carried much more power than necessary. She stumbled and fell back; her mind only coming to a sketchy, instinct-driven response, and she tried to jump away. Her rear legs shot out and caught something solid, but given her position, the kick only wound up driving her harder into the floor. Her back touched down with a loud thud, and Lyra felt as she bounced back into the air, only to touch down again a second later - this time for good.

She remained as she caught the ground, on her back, all sprawled out on the floor. She had no idea what had poked her, but she felt progressively more stupid about the whole scene as her head began to clear. Pinkie was also at the table, after all; it had to be her.

"Sorry-" Lyra groaned and pushed herself up - only to be left breathless by the sight.

Pinkie was sitting in silence. She had a dumbfounded expression on her face and a curved plate on her head; there was an overturned table in front of her, bits of sweet rolls laying scattered all around.

Uh-oh. Lyra gulped, a jolt of nervousness racing across her whole body. Kinda' overreacted there, didn't I...

"Master?"

Turning her head towards the voice as she fought the tingling numbness, Lyra found herself facing an annoyingly nonchalant windigo.

"I understand Master has finished dining now? Because if so, I believe that we ought to be going." Snowy motioned at the door. "There's not much time until the festival begins, and I doubt Master would like to draw attention by being late."

Lyra ground her teeth at the supposition of her finishing her breakfast by flipping tables - and then clenched her teeth in earnest fury at the thought of being late for that freaking festival.

Showing up late would have been compounding an already complicated disaster.

"So- sorry about the table!" She mumbled hastily, already back on her hooves by the time she finished the sentence. She didn't wait for any answer; she turned around and darted towards the door right away. "It was a really nice breakfast! I'll, uh- I'll pay you back! For everything! For the table too! Ba- bye!"





Pinkie blinked lengthily at the door which had just slammed shut. She plucked the plate off her head and placed it on the floor, then voiced her resignation by the means of a loud sigh.

"Ponies these days..."

"Surprised, Boss? Shouldn't be. Young blood's always on fire... hotshots thinkin' the whole world belongs to 'em."

Pinkie squinted to the left, at the large spider which settled onto the nearest intact table.

"I don't think Lyra's any older than me, you know!" She pointed out. Her voice bore no ill-will though; and her gaze had already wandered from the spider. She was measuring the mess on the floor, looking for something salvageable. "Still, just flipping a table on me like that... she's got some serious muscle for a musician, heh."

"Is this okay, though? I mean, it still ain't too late to start runnin' to the cops." Axiom pointed two of his legs at the door. "Granted, it'd be a real close call - but I'd feel a lot better lettin' The Authority step in than let those hacks give it a shot. Boss, ya've seen how hopeless they are!"

Whatever answer she had, Pinkie kept it for herself. She simply hummed happily and leaned forward, grabbing an intact roll from the floor - then putting into her mouth without much fanfare.

The ghostly spider wasn't amused by her reaction. Axiom pulled his legs under him and settled down, staring at his master with eight eyes, radiating with disappointment and disapproval.

"Yer' dead-set, I take it."

"Don't blame me! I mean, it's not fair blaming the players when the whole game's rigged!" Pinkie mumbled and stuffed another - somewhat dirtier - roll into her face. "Mm, stupid Lyra, throwing all these sweets on the floor..."

"That's it, boss? Seriously? Yer' idea to fixin' this rigged game of ours'... is to rig it yerself? Pull a con on the con?" Axiom wriggled as he tried to shake his head, clearly muffling a chuckle near the end. "Ya' really think ya've got a shot at this, Boss? This ain't some cheap play in the street. This is a high-roller game. The one where the bank always wins in the end, ya' know."

"No need to remind me, silly. I know the contract inside-out!" Pinkie scampered to standing. She turned to her servant, a sly grin under her puffy pink mane. "I know I've been running on borrowed time ever since I've met you. But you know, I've kind of enjoyed this silly game of ours - and now that I've had my fun, I may as well shape the outcome to my liking before I'm forced to cough my chips up. I mean, why not?"

Judging by how his stance relaxed, Axiom had found that answer to his liking. Or acceptable, at the very least.

"Whatever ya' say, Boss!" He shrugged and held a pair of two legs in the air on both sides. "But even so, is that stupid excuse of a pony yer' final pick? I mean, she's prowlin' around with that rotten windigo of all things! And look at the mess they've caused!"

"Yeah... quite the mess. My friends... ugh." Pinkie winced. She placed a hoof to her head, either to ease her mental pain or to keep herself upright. "But you also saw her just now, didn't you? She didn't mean any of that - she was so happy when I told her Celestia might fix, well, half of everything...!"

"Which means she's ain't got no idea what she's doin'." Axiom growled and folded his legs back together. "Ain't a smart bet, boss. Ain't no way she can take the prize home."

The answer to that came with some delay. Instead of answering, Pinkie turned to returning the table upright; she put her hooves under the rim and lifted. She was visibly straining but proved superior to the polished piece of wood. The table creaked and groaned, finally returning to its normal position with a dull thud - showering the bakery with another burst of crumbs and half-crushed sweet rolls.

Pinkie surveyed the messy top of the table, then dropped her head onto the gritty surface.

"She's a bit hot-headed, yeah. But that's just the thing," she groaned, her blue eyes locked on her servant. "Axiom, can you really see any of the other players winning?"

"The Princess might." Axiom pondered aloud. "She's got what, three servants? She bein' real good at hoardin'."

"That's the issue, though. She's just hoarding." Pinkie frowned, her leg swiping a bit of the table clean. "She thinks she can stop this game by just getting all the servants and not doing anything with them. I mean - it would be a nice idea, normally! But I think she's being wrong genre savvy this once. Our dear Game Master probably shook things up exactly because of her."

Pinkie raised her leg and studied it closely. She frowned again; her fur was sticky, full of crumbs of varying sizes. She shook her head and got off the table; she headed to the kitchen, a fresh towel on her mind.

"So yer' rigging the game... by helping the clumsy idiot who the Source also has an eye for?" Axiom balked at the rough outlines of 'their' plan.

"Why so surprised? I thought you'd like us betting on the winning team!" Pinkie giggled as she disappeared into the doorway leading to the kitchen. "The bank always wins, remember? Might as well hurry up and get to that conclusion as fast as we can. Better than letting this game drag on too long..."
> 26 - A misplaced siege
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Excuse me! Excuse me... Sorry, just passing through! Err... excuse me? Sorry! I'm sorry, but I'm- ah, I'm supposed to be performing at this festival..."

Lyra wasn't even sure who she had just apologized to; she was wading through the crowd and bumped into ponies left and right. She had given up on keeping up with the chaos and used a cop-out instead, muttering a constant stream of apologies. That was the only way she could make sure she didn't leave anypony scorned. Of course a hastily mumbled 'excuse me' wouldn't really offset shoving somepony to the side - but she really had to be on the stage soon-ish. She couldn't afford to look for a detour around the crowd.

If there was one to begin with, that is.

The whole plaza in front of the Major's office was chock-full of ponies, turning the empty area into a mass of colours and excited chatter. Lyra would have felt pretty good about that - it may have been a third-rate job she had only accepted because of the Major asking her personally, but she did enjoy having a bigger audience. 

Only this time she was about to replace the whole performance with a scam.

Her stomach turned at the mere thought, and not just out of respect for her former trade. There were a million ways her stunt could go wrong. In all honesty, she felt like backing out - but telling the Major minutes ahead of the festival that she was declining to show up...

That would have been easy to misinterpret as intentional sabotage. Scorning the Major was one of the things smart ponies didn't do, either.

I really need to think up a solid reason to cancel all my booked shows though. Lyra pushed another pony out of the way, all the while spouting her excuses in auto-pilot mode. This simple feint may get me through this joke of a festival, but it sure won't hold up in a serious test of skill. I- EEEP?!

A blade appeared in front of her - dropping from skywards and landing at her hooves, barely missing her nose in the process. The sharp piece of metal did its job; Lyra halted right away, even backing off a single step. Which was all she could take before she backed into somepony.

Wha- wha- wha- wha-! Her mind sputtered to a stop as she eyed the blade.

"I'm sorry miss, but the rest of the plaza is off-grounds. The podium is for performers only."

Turning to the source of that noise, Lyra realized that the blade actually belonged to the Guard trooper that was addressing her.

"More sword-toting militia?" Snowy appeared from among the crowd, then waltzed into the open area. "Is there another noble living around here, too? Do they also want Master dead?"

Not quite just yet, Lyra smirked, then gave a cringing giggle as she explored that line of thought. Though should anypony learn of the things I did, I'm pretty sure I'll have a LOT of these... sword-toting militias after me, heh.

None of those thoughts left her mouth.

"I'm one of those performers, you know!" She declared, hints of the suppressed giggle still lurking in her voice. "I'm Lyra Heartstrings, and I'm going to be playing here!"

Judging by how the crowd around her fell silent, that explanation wasn't the smartest move on her part. Everypony around her tried to get closer to her all of a sudden. She had no idea what to make of the scene at first; but she soon realized that this chaos was of a different breed than the one before. The nonsense of overlapping idle chats had been replaced by endless, overlapping cries for autographs.

Oi, that's like, really insulting! Seriously, do the lot of you only know me from newspapers?! Did you really have no idea who I was until I introduced myself? Lyra cringed and did her best to dodge the many pieces of papers, sharp pencils and waving hooves coming her way.

The mayhem didn't last long. A force of five troopers rushed to the scene and held the crazy mob at bay, while another sword-wielding colt reached to Lyra and pulled her out, into the open. She was being dragged by her nose, but she didn't feel like complaining. She simply rose back to her hooves and coughed - the rescue manoeuvre put a lot of dirt into her nose and mouth.

That was like... I don't even know what that was like, but I don't want to repeat it! Ever! ...and to think I've always complained that ponies didn't know who I was.

"Thanks. You're a real life-saver." She compressed all her thankfulness into a curt nod. "Sure am glad you didn't feel like asking for an autograph as well..."

Immediately after having uttered those words, Lyra found the piece of mind to slap herself on the face. Of all the possible things to say, she had again found the most tactless one.

"Think nothing of it." The Guard trooper smirked at her. "I already have your signature anyway - no need to ask for another one. Not now. Wouldn't want you to go all creepy again and ask me if I needed one written in blood either."

"Aren't you the funny one." Lyra rolled her eyes and no longer felt bad about having had shown so little gratitude. The Guard's sentence stuck in her mind, though. She moved the hoof on her face upwards, reaching to scratch the top of her head.

An autograph in blood, huh?

She felt pretty weird about that idea. Not only that an ordinary soldier would propose it; but because it seemed familiar somehow. The gears in her mind spun up, but try as she might, she couldn't recall where she had heard of it before. It was a fairly popular trope in theatre dramas, but she was certain the Opera wasn't the answer she was looking for.

Where....

The soldier next to her didn't elaborate either. He seemed ready to sheathe his drawn sword - but stopped midway, admiring the polished steel as it glittered in the sunlight. Maybe it was just because of her distanced mind, but the strange sight caught Lyra's attention as well. She watched as the soldier's unicorn magic rotated the weapon. It was evidently of high quality; the edges looked as even as a razor blade and intricate patterns covered the rest of the surface. The seemingly disjointed lines formed a tall tree, running down the full length, even continuing on the cross-guard.

"Quite the tool, huh?" The soldier noted Lyra's curiosity and gave a sly wink. "I can't help but admire it myself. No subtlety in this thing. It's so simple... but to the point. An honest tool, you could say. If only I could afford to be... hey, you want a closer look?"

Lyra hesitated. She was running quite late at that point - the other hired musicians had already taken their spots on the podium and had started tuning their instruments. It was also the first time she had seen a sword close-up, however. She couldn't help but feel a little fascinated. Like a filly who had caught a glimpse of a new, previously unknown toy.

"I'll just take a peek!" She giggled and took the sword. She was bracing for a heavy object - and the force of her magic almost threw the sword away. The weapon was surprisingly light, weighing about as much as a bottle of water. "Whoa... so light!"

The weapon firmly in the grip of her magic, she tried to imitate a slashing motion, like she had seen in plays and movies. Swordplay wasn't quite as easy as she had imagined, however. The weapon didn't want to stay steady; it fluttered in the air, rippling and almost tumbling out of control. Lyra had no time to dwell on the unexpected hardships, though. Loud cheer and muffled laughter greeted her performance - and turning around, she realized that the entirety of the crowd was now watching her. Even the other Guard troopers were gawking, though they were more bewildered at how their comrade had so casually armed a civilian.

Whoa. Lyra shuddered at the sheer number of eyes focused on her. Did I just make myself the main attraction? But I... wanted to stay in the background. Or, rather, I should have. Which means... uh-oh.

"Everypony is shocked." Snowy popped up on Lyra's side to state the obvious. "I can't blame them, either! That move was absolutely lacking in style and technique. I suppose that is my fault, though - I have seen Old Maaas... I mean, I have seen a certain pony practice for years. I should have passed those lessons onto Master. Being good with a blade would keep Master safer than knowing how to fake our way through a musical performance, too."

"Sure thing! It's not like my whole life revolves around music, right?" Lyra snickered at the windigo, her voice packed with as much sarcasm as the hushed tone allowed. She then cleared her throat, held the sword upright and had it float back to the friendly trooper. "Thanks a lot, dude! I need to run now, though. Wouldn't want the show to start late because of me, haha!"

The Guard colt smirked under the cover of his helmet, and shook his head - much to Lyra's surprise.

"Just keep it for now. Think of it as a... I don't know, a temporary present!" He placed a hoof against the blade's flat surface, and gently pushed the whole thing back to the dumbstruck Lyra. "You might wind up needing it too! I mean, who knows?"

Lyra wanted to protest; she had no use for a sword, after all. Her words would have clearly fallen on deaf ears, though. The trooper turned his back at her and was walking away already, the thick crowd parting to allow him pass.

What a quirky colt. Lyra cocked her head to the side and drew the sword closer to her. She found the shiny surface really distracting... but then shook her head wildly and rushed to the podium.





"Am I too much of an optimist, thinking you're actually going to use that sword?"

The Source eyed the podium from the third story of a nearby building. It was a pretty good vantage point - not the best, obviously, but showing up on a rooftop was out of the question. Not while parading around in the guise of an ordinary Guard trooper, anyway.

It's not like the Source was interested in seeing the whole scene either. As long as it could keep its eyes on that musician... as long as it could do that, the Source could put up with any vantage point.

"This is all so troublesome."

The deep, rumbling voice made the Source turn around, facing the dragon that was at the other end of the room. The scaly creature had obvious problems with the accommodation - the dull red body reached from floor to ceiling, making full use of the limited space.

The Source was not alarmed by the presence the slightest. It knew that dragon - no, not just that.

The Source had created that dragon. Took a beast of no consequence and twisted it into something majestic. Turned it into a servant, an ascendant being that could serve higher purposes. All with a flick of magic - just like how it had assumed the looks of a Guard earlier.

"It should be fine. I make the rules. And even if I didn't... there are no rules that I can't interact with the game should the need arise." The Source shrugged, then adjusted the Guard helmet on its head. The helmet felt like a really poor fit, always threatening to fall off. The struggle with the annoying strap made the Source wonder if it had gone a step too far in the accurate portrayal of Guard equipment; but wasn't enough to interrupt its musing regarding the game, however.

"Besides, I'm free to move in such inconspicuous forms. It's not like any of those down there suspect me."

"So you say. But interfering with the game is precisely what irks me!" The dragon insisted, her lidless yellow eyes resting on her creator.

"Lyra's a newcomer - pitted against immortal monsters. Having something to even the field isn't much of an author fiat, wouldn't you say?" The Source reached to the side of its temporary shell, poking the empty scabbard on the side of its armour. "Besides, it's just a sword. As masterfully crafted as my imagination allowed, but still - let's not get overly dramatic over a piece of metal. It's not like I bestowed some great power on her."

"True that. Too bad I don't care about that Lyra, though. Nor about your stupid sword." The dragon snorted and wriggled around. Only because of her ghostly nature did her scales not rip holes in the walls - or outright demolish them. "However, using me to convey your ideas to my Master through my mouth... I didn't like that. That was really troublesome."

The Source stopped inspecting the scabbard and turned back to the dragon, a toothy grin on its face.

"Hoo, really? You would take offence to that?" The Source gave a brief cackle, then cocked its head to the side. "Going to Canterlot to meet her greatest foes head-on... your master was about to commit a ridiculous mistake. All I've done is allow her to rethink her next move."

The dragon remained unamused.

"Don't lie to me, please. It's troublesome, making me realise the truth for myself. You just wanted the battle to erupt here." She pointed out, punctuating - or rather, undermining - her point with a huge yawn. "That sword, getting my Master to come here... you're relocating the battleground so you can watch your newest toy soldier without interference. You went to bothersome lengths about that."

The Source stopped smiling. It turned around and drew the other blade - a shorter one, as befitting the standard equipment of every Royal Guard officer. The polished surface gleamed in a thin stripe, reflecting the little sunshine that managed to find its way through the window shades. The small blade balanced in the grasp of the Source's magical aura, turning left and right, the light dancing around as if it had a mind of its own.

"You do remember that you serve more than one masters, right? And as far as masters go, your creator... naye, your God precedes all."

"But of course." The dragon lowered her head. There was little reverence in the move, however; it was half-hearted and reeked of lip-service. "However, I can't help but note that you've gotten me into something really troublesome. You can't make me like that, can you?"

The Source closed its eyes and chuckled at the notion.

"Going by past experiences, I really doubt you will face a huge trial yourself. Your master couldn't care less about you... she's easily one of my biggest miscalculations." The Source sighed sombrely, then slid the small sword back into the scabbard.

"True. I doubt she even notices my absence." The dragon joined in on the sigh, though the tone was markedly different. "Thank the Sky Mother for that! It'd be really troublesome if I got caught. But, if she is made to fight... then she might call on me yet. Ugh."

"Then you will need to do what I've created you for... for the first time in so many centuries. My heart's bleeding for your plight." The Source rolled its violet-red eyes and returned to the window. It leaned softly against the wall - precise movements in the Guard armour required attention - and narrowed its eyes, its gaze resting on the plaza outside. "Still, I very much doubt she would do that. Your master is too picky to resort to the likes of my servants. Ugh... what a terrible player. Though that was my mistake, in the end. I was a fool to think that those with power would automatically crave for more, no matter the source."

Something glittered at the far end of the plaza, and the flicker of light drew the Source's attention. That was the sword it had gifted away. The blade was currently resting on the floor, next to the musician and her snow-demon. Neither of the two seemed to be pay any mind to the gift though. They were completely lost in preparing for the trivial festival.

How calm you two are, the Source noted as it observed the duo. Ignorance can truly be bliss, I suppose.

Had they known the dragon's master had just walked into the scene and was less than forty meters away from them... 

You would be fleeing in panic. The Source pictured the most likely outcome, and clicked its tongue. Well, you do have a sword... but now that I think about it, you wouldn't pick it up and fight just yet. You still have things to return to, don't you? Like that pony by the name of Bon... hmm. You still hold her dear. Which means you would flee just so you could meet her again... but by the same logic, couldn't I use her to force you to stand your ground?

The Source gave that thought a sombre nod.

Seems I'll need to act this Guard officer a little longer... serves me right. I was a little careless in setting up this scene. How unusual of me... tsk. I must be getting hasty.

The Source gave that minuscule doubt a muffled groan, then discarded it right away. There was no place for doubts, only corrections and observations. Done with the internal dissent, the Source turned around and walked to the door; as slow as taking the stairs was, that part of the act couldn't be circumvented. Ordinary Guard officers couldn't be seen popping out of thin air.

"Get going, Sloth. You shouldn't disappear for long periods, whether your master needs you or not!" The Source barked from the doorway. "The show begins any moment now anyway. Your place is on the stage."

The door slammed shut right as the Source was done talking, leaving the brooding dragon alone.

"Show, she says... pfft. As if I cared for any of this nonsense." The dragon shook her head and shuffled around, trying to unwedge herself from the confines of the small room. "I begin to wish you had picked someone else, you know. Had I known this game of yours was so bothersome, I would have stayed being an ordinary dragon. Heck, I would be sleeping the Eternal Dream by now. How bothersome..."





"Can't believe he just gave his sword to you!" The mare with the blue coat and a huge violin shook her head. Her voice betrayed no irritation however - only a strong sense of longing.

"Oh, hush, you!" Lyra grimaced. It was rude, but she didn't turn to the other musician during the talk; she was all too busy getting the strings of her lyre right. She wasn't using her own instrument but the one provided by the Major. That was a particularly stupid decision on her part... she really should have studied the contract in detail before she had signed it. 

She arched her head back and crackled her neck, taking a momentary break from the bothersome tuning process. That also allowed her to issue a proper reply to the pony bugging her about the sword.

"It's not like he proposed to me! I'm just... I don't know, I'm holding onto it? I mean, he'll be probably wanting it back."

The other pony sighed and slumped over her instrument, using the violin to prod her chin up.

"Haaa, true. Wouldn't have it been lyrical, though? Meeting your Chosen One in the most random spot, and bam! Instant love on first sight."

"Haha, sure. Ever been told you should lay off the romantic fiction?" Lyra chuckled wryly, tightening a wire by turning on a small screw on the top of the lyre. She closed her eyes and pulled on the string. She could tell it hit the right note, even with all the background noise surrounding her. On one hoof, she felt glad she could do that much on her own - but on the other hoof, the relative ease with which she had worked had also made for a frustrating experience.

Argh! Why can't I PLAY the darn thing if I can still recognize the sounds?!

The purely rhetorical question was all her anger managed to achieve. She didn't expect to ever answer that one. She no longer tried to dwell too long on the issue either. No use in crying over spilled milk, letting bygones be bygones... and all that.

"There's nothing wrong with romantic fiction!" The violinist snorted, yanking her head away in obviously faked anger. "It's a proper genre. A serious genre, too!"

"All the more reasons to stay away from it." Lyra snickered and turned on another screw on the top of her temporary lyre.

"Heh. And here I was thinking it'd be fun to play alongside you." The violinist groaned and leaned forward, her head still pivoting on the top of her instrument.

"You came expecting fun?" Lyra raised her right eyebrow, shooting a quick glance at the other pony. "You don't know the Major all that well, do you?"

The other pony made another - even louder - groan and sunk to the floor, paying great care that her violin landed safely.

"Feels like I'm missing a few vital cues." Snowy glanced up from the scoreboard and scratched her neck, the see-through strands of hair waving in the air. "I thought the Major was a really popular pony? Didn't Master say that she was elected by popular consensus?"

"I said she was elected by popular vote." Lyra made a small but important correction, then pulled on the fifth string of her lyre. She couldn't tell why, but that string still sounded funny; so she kept fiddling with the tuning screw. "See, I never said there were any other contenders either!"

"Ooooh." Snowy's eyes widened as her insight into Ponyville's political climate broadened. "Why is that? Is the Major leading this city customary? Something like an old family lineage?"

Lyra poked at the string, her ears twitching at the resulting sound. She was growing convinced that her own ears were malfunctioning and not the instrument. Tuning a lyre was a quite difficult task in the middle of a noisy crowd. She may have been able to do it, were she at her peak... but considering everything, she was far from that height.

She tried hard to stay positive. She enjoyed how she didn't get herself worked up, for example.

Eh, whatever. It'll do... it's good enough already. It's not like anypony here could tell the difference.

She hated that kind of half-hearted approach, but it was really the truth in her current case. A fact she found hard to swallow, nevertheless; she couldn't help but give her head a disgruntled shake.

"Major Mare and linage... hah! I hope I never get to see those two combine." Lyra mused absent-mindedly and proceeded onto the second-to-last string of the lyre. "No, our good Major only keeps getting elected because she's the only one insane enough to keep volunteering."

The violinist on Lyra's right bobbed her head slightly, turning her neck just enough to bring Lyra into her peripheral vision.

"You often talk to yourself?"

"Only when I long for the good company!" Lyra rolled her eyes and made a full turn on the small screw. A small uproar interrupted her; the crowd seemed a lot more energetic all of a sudden. The ponies around her began stretching their necks and shifting around, all of them trying to get a better view of something. A few - more daring - pegasi also took off, hovering a little above the head of the rest.

What's so interesting? Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows, and joined the rest in turning heads in circles. Even her arrival hadn't triggered anything close to that chaos - and she was plenty sure there were no other big names on the invite list.

"Uh... Master? That... that is part of the show, right?"

Blowing hot air from her nose in frustration, Lyra glared at the dumbstruck windigo of hers. The look on Snowy's face had convinced her to belay the berating, however. The windigo was glued in place; her ears dipped to the side, her lower jaw left hanging.

What the... even you look spooked? Lyra blinked in disbelief, then started to trace just where the windigo was looking at. Just who did the Major get-

The lyre dropped to her hooves. The instrument made a pained sound or two as it bounced around, coming to a rest against Lyra's left leg; but all she did was mimicking the shock of her servant. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

A huge red dragon was reflecting in her amber pupils.





"What the-"

It took Lyra a few seconds to mumble that much. 'Flight or fight' had turned into 'fixed and fright'; the many conflicting instincts and thoughts had blocked each other in her mind, leaving her stranded and gawking. Not even the loud cheering of the crowd had managed to change that - though the harsh background noise did begin seeping into her conscious, making her aware of her surroundings.

Even so, reality had difficulties getting Lyra's attention when she was eyeing a dragon waltz around the plaza. The red reptile moved around at a leisurely pace; the beats of her large wings almost seemed slow-motion compared to the hasty flapping of the pegasi hovering nearby.

It was that strange image that had finally proven too much, breaking Lyra out of her stupor. She took a better look at those pegasi - examined them one-by-one, shifting her gaze from one to the next... and noticed a rather puzzling fact in the process.

Am I the only one concerned by the huge pony-eating lizard?

The pegasi were flapping their wings about, but only to maintain their comfortable viewing spots above the crowd. The very crowd which was also blatantly uncaring about the danger looming above them. The ponies were pushing against the ring of Guard troops in front of them, trying to get closer to the stage where the musicians were gearing up for the show.

"Hey - you okay?" The violinist pony turned to Lyra, her hoof pointed at the ground. "You dropped your lyre..."

It took effort on Lyra's end, but she managed to push the dragon down her list of priorities. It was still in the top three, but she could no longer afford getting so completely hung up on the lizard. Not when everypony around her were acting as if the thing didn't exist in the first place.

Her head still pointing in the generic direction of the reptile, Lyra glanced at her hooves and reached out to the lyre with her magic.

Oi, oi, oi! How is this stupid lyre even a thing right now? Why are you even looking this way? Can't you see what's behind you?!

Evidently, that violinist was completely desensitized to scaly monsters with sharp talons and bad attitude. She wasn't alone, either; the entirety of Ponyville seemed to have become stupidly brave.

Why are they not reacting to the dragon at all? Lyra bit onto her lip and she lifted the lyre up. She ran an overt gaze around, but the picture didn't change whatsoever. Cheering ponies surrounded her - even as the lumbering red beast landed on a rooftop directly next to them.

Guessing the dragon's weight by its dimensions, Lyra braced for the immediate destruction. There was no way roof tiles and wooden beams could withstand the landing of a full-sized dragon. Squeezing the lyre tightly against herself, Lyra flinched as she saw the clawed paws reach out-

-and gasped when nothing happened. The beams held and the roof tiles remained in place; this despite how they had a huge red dragon weighing down on them. The reptile glanced at the crowd and folded its wings lazily, then pulled its head back and gave its neck a good scratching with a hind paw.

Lyra couldn't believe her eyes. The image defied her expectations and, indeed, reality itself. There was no way a dragon of that size could fiddle around so much and not demolish the house underneath.

No way a regular dragon could, anyway.

"That thing's a servant!" Lyra mumbled in a hushed tone, and took a wavering step backwards. She wasn't entirely sure about her reasons, but she felt more afraid of a magical reality-bending dragon than a regular pony-eating one. Her weakness was fleeting; though the decision to stay was not strictly her own choice. She couldn't simply walk off the stage and run away. Not with all the crowd surrounding her. 

Stop panicking, girl! Keep calm! This dragon might be benign for all you know. I mean, I have been living next to windigo for weeks... and I'm still fine, aren't I?

Her lips twisted into a small, wry grin.

For varying levels of fine, anyway.

"Snowy."

She only whispered the command, and the word was lost to the noise of the crowd right away; but the windigo still snapped to attention without fail.

"Any idea who that is?" Lyra motioned at the dragon, careful that her movements wouldn't look overly suspicious to anypony around her.

Snowy clenched her teeth and shook her head, slowly and deliberately.

"Nothing, I'm afraid." The windigo sighed, then turned her head sharply to the left, running her crimson eyes across the colourful crowd. "But judging by the lack of reaction, I surmise it's a fellow servant. Should I try and engage it in conversation?"

Lyra was surprised by the idea at first - and then by the fact that she had been surprised in the first place. Snowy could move just as freely as the dragon did, after all. The only limitation the windigo faced was the necessity of keeping close to her master. Nopony could see or hear the servants; so there wasn't much stopping Snowy from just waltzing over to the reptile and asking a few questions.

Not quite used to this kind of thing yet, Lyra admitted to herself with a dry chuckle.

"Go for it." She gave approval with a barely noticeable nod. "Just be back when the show begins."

Diplomatic talks with other servants may have been important, but she needed Snowy once the Major's show was underway. She couldn't play the lyre on her own.

"But of course!" Snowy gave a deep, courteous bow. She was off the next moment, leaping into the air. She landed at the very edge of the clear area, right next to the line of Royal Guards, then bounced back into the air.

Lyra tried her best to keep an eye on the windigo of hers, but she lost sight of the blue ghost as soon as it descended into the crowd. She noted the sad fact with a trembling sigh. She would have hated to admit, but she had immediately regretted going along with that plan. She had butterflies in her stomach, and perhaps rightfully so. She was in the middle of a stage with an instrument she couldn't use on her own, was staring down a dragon of unknown purpose, and was cut off from her own servant. She had no idea where Snowy was, and couldn't contact the windigo. She couldn't even shout - not without drawing a lot of attention to herself.

Using both her magic and a leg, she hugged onto the lyre. The instrument was cold and the tuning screws bit into the skin beneath Lyra's fur, but she didn't mind. She was so nervous, she had to do something - and squeezing against a lyre was one of the less conspicuous ways to deal with the tingling sensation.

Well... at least I can be sure that I'm not the kind of idiot who overthinks things! She mused, and could taste the rich sarcasm in her own thought. She had really put her own self into a tight spot. What made everything even worse was that she was in the middle of a lucky break even - had the crowd not been busy cheering at something, she might have been called out on her quirky behaviour. Che! And all that dragon's doing is just sitting there... this 'game' is nuts! All it takes to ruin my life is keeping a random servant breathing down my neck. How the heck do the other players deal with this stress? I'm going to need the LARGEST bottle of Prozac if this keeps-

Lyra's ears dipped half-way between horizontal and vertical as she swivelled her head around slowly. With all her attention on the dragon, she had completely forgotten about the elephant in the room.

Wait a sec! Just why IS this crowd cheering so much?

She couldn't see any reason for the sudden shift in atmosphere. Who in Equestria could have made all those ponies go wild?

"Psst... psst! Hey! Wake up! Did you fall asleep or something?" The violinist whispered, poking Lyra with the bow of her instrument. "Stop hugging that lyre! Can't you hear the Major arrived? We're about to get started!"

Lyra nodded and pulled the lyre to her eye-level - at which point she ran out of ingrained actions and reverted to conscious-mode. First of all, there was no reason for her to prepare so eagerly; it was all moot without Snowy being around. Secondarily, she had a hard time believing her ears.

It was the Major who got that kind of reception?

Really? What. Just what! How is this even possible? Lyra stretched her neck to raise her head as high as possible, trying to find the familiar figure on the stage. Why would these weirdos cheer for the Major so loudly? Did I come to a celebration full of paid actors or something?

From the corner of her eye, Lyra noted how all the other musicians had finished preparing, and now stood at the ready. That meant that the Major must have been around indeed - and that she needed to get Snowy back. Urgently. Only, the windigo was visibly standing on the roof of the opposing house, right next to the red dragon...

Come back already! Lyra gave the blue ghost a despairing glare. I thought you'd ask the reptile for a name or something, not discuss the story of your entire life!

Then, at long last, she got a glimpse of the beige mare with ornate glasses.

The Major! Lyra hissed and sank her teeth into her lip. She remembered the outline of the programme - there was going to be a short introduction, but the Major had requested some light tune for the second half of her speech already. Shoot! Snowy, you air-headed idiot, stop chatting that dragon up and GET BACK HERE ALREADY!

Screaming loudly inside her head was off little use, of course. It was simply the most she could dare. Breaking into screams right next to Ponyville's top official wouldn't have done her life any big favours. She needed better ways out of the tight spot.

What if I pretended to faint?

She dipped her head measured the lyre carefully. It looked like a less intricate, but sturdier variant of the lyre she had at home. Heavier, too.

I could totally just smack myself over the head with this thing and black out, Lyra pondered. How would I do that without being obvious, though?

"Fillies and gentlecolts! Dear ponies of Ponyville!"

The Major's voice sent shivers down Lyra's spine; she could tell that all the furs on her back were pointing skywards. Her sense of balance started to act up - the world began wobbling around her, as if the axles of reality had began to loosen. The loud crowd receded from her mind, the choir of voices becoming dull and distant.

There was only one thing Lyra could think of with utmost clarity.

I'm in trouble. Oh Celestia, I'm in so much trouble.

"I think we all know why I have called you to this spot today." Major Mare continued. "I mean, I would rather hope so - I've spent a small fortune on fliers!"

A faint laughter rippled through the crowd, and even Lyra bobbed her ears up. She had nowhere to run to, so she might as well pay attention.

The Major looked pleased with the reaction to her small joke - she gave a little pause, letting the laughter run its course and die down.

"However, I'm happy to say that I have a surprise for you!" The Major traversed her gaze across the crowd, her reserved smile growing to a toothy grin.

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She had no idea why she had picked up on that little detail, but it bugged her. She had never seen the Major smile like that. That pony was so reserved that she would begin her own birthday party by clearing her throat, followed up by a canned speech.

There was no time to dwell long on the issue, however. The mention of surprise had a remarkable effect on the crowd - everypony fell silent and began listening eagerly.

"I think I can safely say that these are going to be the most intense moments of your lives," the Major chuckled and drew her mouth to a sneer. "Your remaining lives, anyway."

Lyra recoiled at the chilling words.

Wha- 

There was no need for her to wonder. The Major basked in a vivid green light; the outlines of her body rippled, as if the pony had difficulties deciding on her own size. Perhaps justifiably so: the good Major grew two sizes in the next moment, now towering above the other ponies. Her skin had also turned from beige to almost pitch black, and the new colour only highlighted how lean her figure had become. Wings grew from her sides; not of the usual feathery kind, but some sort of translucent membrane. The grey mane of the Major had also changed and turned dark blue; her glasses landed on the floor as a horn sprouted from the middle of her forehead.

Lyra gawked at the sight. It was the very first time she had seen anything like that, but her instincts told her to get away - or back-pedal at the very least.

The something the Major had been a few moments ago had stepped forward, smashing the reading glasses with an absent-minded stomp of her hole-ridden hoof. It was at that point somepony had found the courage to whisper.

"Queen Chrysalis...!" 

Lyra had no idea who had said that, but wished the pony was wrong. She was familiar with the stories related to that name.

Frighteningly familiar, in fact.

All the other ponies in the audience must have thought similarly, for the chatter had completely stopped - stopped so abruptly as if everypony's words had been cut in half.

Lyra could have sworn she could hear the faintest breeze whistling in the air.

"Well... without further ado! Let the festivities begin!" Chrysalis hollered, her words ringing in the dead silence. "Changelings! Lunchtime!"





"See? I told you my master's troublesome."

The dragon uttered her groan in a deep, rumbling tone, her long claws scraping against the thick scales covering her nose.

"What the- did- did that pony just shapeshift?!" Snowy gasped. She was the same dumbstruck as the scores of living ponies filling the plaza, her crimson eyes fixed on the distant figure. "Is that really your master? Who in the world is she?!"

"Yeah, she's my master all right. She's Chrysalis... a troublesome vampire who thinks herself a queen. Even though her kingdom only exists in her own head." The dragon frowned and shook her head. "She detests me as fully as possible, though. So I suppose this feast could be all right... as long as she gets to get her fill and I get to keep myself uninvolved."

"A vampire!" Snowy mumbled and squinted back over her back, at the red dragon. "Is that really so? Your master feasts on other ponies?"

The dragon raised her head and hummed, scratching her chin thoughtfully. Considering the stance, her answer was surprisingly short, however.

"Yep."

"My Master is down there. So your master... will try to feast on mine!" Snowy concluded, then turned back to the crowd with a dry gulp. "I will need to stop her."

"Heh. Well, considering my relationship with my master... I probably won't get in your way should you try." The dragon chuckled wryly, waving a paw in the air. "I hope it does turn out like that. It would be bothersome having to fight you, Nix."

"Yeah. I-" Snowy nodded and prepared to leap off. She leaned back onto her rear legs and arched her back up, but a last second doubt made her hesitate. She cocked her head to the side, so her right eye got a glimpse of the dragon. "Did you just say you're fine if we beat your master?"

The dragon didn't even miss a beat with the reply.

"That's my master's problem, not mine. As long as you don't make me partake in bothersome things... I really don't care."

Shaking her head in utter and obvious disapproval, Snowy shot out, flying towards the shocked crowd underneath. Unlike a certain other servant, she would be fighting on her Master's side.





The dragon watched the blue figure fly off in the air, then dip below, finally land and disappear in the colour crowd.

"I wonder what would count as rigging the game if this doesn't." The reptile murmured, once she was sure the windigo was out of earshot. Then she curled up, sighing loudly as the move squeezed the air of her lungs. "But that's not my problem, is it? And if you do get to do my master in... heh, I guess I wouldn't complain about one less troublesome deity in my life."
> 27 - A misplaced siege, pt 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra found herself backing away. She wasn't even aware of the fact for a while; her legs moved on their own. The sheer proximity to Chrysalis was too much for her. She had no idea what was going to happen, but she was sure that she wanted none of it. Chrysalis' sole command was lunchtime after all, and that had not exactly inspired her to stick around and see.

The other ponies around her had reached the same conclusion, but were more vocal about it. The crowd erupted into a cacophony of incoherent screams and all hell broke loose. Everypony started looking for the shortest way to safety - which, much to Lyra's surprise, often led them next to the very podium Chrysalis was standing on. Lyra would have expected ponies to scatter away from the Queen bug, to flee into the nearby streets; but at least two groups of startled ponies had darted past her already, a few of them almost running straight into the menacingly grinning Queen.

It was like dinner running straight into the hungry mouth.

Lyra could have sworn she saw Chrysalis lift a hoof and smack a fleeing pony down onto the ground. She couldn't be sure - she didn't get more than a brief glimpse. Most of the scene was obscured by the rest of the fleeing group. She was perfectly capable of filling in the blanks, though.

For the briefest moment, she thought about rushing there, about saving that unfortunate soul. Such heroic nonsense did little in the face of the primal fear that had been gripping her, however. In the end, she didn't even stop backing away.

This place is like a deathtrap!

She felt like running faster, actually.

I'm going to be the next if I stick around!

Those thoughts were easier to translate into deeds. She spun around; she had no idea which way she was going, but she didn't care either. As long as she was putting space between her and Chrysalis, it was all good.

She didn't get very far. A fleeing - and appropriately distracted - pony barrelled straight into her. Lyra wasn't bothered by her aching ribs this once; she was more angry at the idiot who had obstructed her escape.

Are you blind or something? Stop getting in my way! Heck - stop running this way, period! Can't you see that the monster is standing over here?!

That was what she had wanted to say, but a breathless groan was all that had left her mouth. The impact and the subsequent landing had completely winded her. She was still well enough to flee, however. She pushed the dazed pony off from her; a roll and another push and she was back on her hooves-

That was Lyra's plan anyway.

Right until the reason for the crowd's erratic behaviour presented itself to her. It was a sneering, drooling monster - a creature that looked like the unholy offspring of a bug and something with horribly sharp teeth.

That- that thing is like Chrysalis! Lyra gasped. Her eyes were so wide they hurt; but she lacked the control over her facial movements at that precise moment. She couldn't even blink. Especially not when the snarling creature broke into a loud hiss, and turned its bug-like eyes on her.

Her own terrified expression reflecting in the changeling's solid black eyes, Lyra was pretty sure she was done for.

I'm- I'm gonna get eaten by this monster-!

The changeling lunged at her, and that was the final straw. It was too much. It was simply too much. Lyra's nerves, already overloaded with dread, snapped. She squeezed all the air from her lungs with a beastly howl. She flung a hoof at the incoming figure, simultaneously using her magic to clobber the changeling with whatever she could reach.

Saliva dripping from its open mouth, the changeling only saw the incoming object a split-second before impact. The lyre creaked loudly, its wooden base separating into two upon contact with the changeling's head. Changelings weren't done in so easily, however. This one was still moving, too; it overshot Lyra, but still landed somewhat safely.

Gritting her teeth and sneering, Lyra flung the battered remains of the lyre at the bug-thing. She didn't expect that to do her much good, as even her panic-stricken mind could realize that she would need something better to defend herself with. Something like a real weapon.

There was no time nor opportunity to go looking for a weapon, though.

She sprung back onto her hooves, just in time to see her attacker regaining focus. Something - probably another pony - bumped into her from behind and pushed her forward; this accident decided her course of action. She broke into another howl and lunged at the bug-creature.

The changeling was clearly taken aback by such a turn of events; its mouth was left hanging even as Lyra rammed into its side. 'Food isn't supposed to fight back' was on the changeling's mind, but the bug never got to voice that complaint - a horseshoe landed on its head, knocking the creature out cold.

Lyra wasn't given any time to celebrate. Racing high on adrenaline, she turned around, searching for the pony which had bumped into her earlier. It wasn't a long search. She saw the blue violinist lying on the ground, dragging herself away from another of the snarling bug-monsters.

"No you don't!" Lyra hollered and sprang into action. Only then did she ponder on just what she was about to do, though.

Am I really going to pick a fair fight? Unarmed and everything?

Those monsters had a lot of advantages over her. They had sharp teeth, constant malevolent snarls, leathery wings and overflowing bloodlust...

She couldn't match any of those. She was just an ordinary pony, for Celestia's sake! All she had going for her was her unicorn magic. A pretty useless advantage without something to use it on, too.

Che! If only I had something to even the scales...!

There was no time to regret her decision. She tried to repeat her previous trick - she glanced down and grabbed whatever was near her hoof. She stepped between the violinist and the changeling, then flung the object without even looking. It was a reckless plan, and Lyra understood that fact on some level; but she didn't want to see that violinist fall victim.

She didn't want anypony to fall victim, period.

Of course, such desires didn't fully materialize in her head. She was still in shock, her conscious largely overridden by baser instincts. She had only understood that the changelings were trouble and that she had to oppose them; that they would be devouring ponies if she didn't do something.

As if! I'm not going to let you do as you please!

Lyra recoiled as her magic strained; the random junk she had flung at the creature connected. The changeling broke into a loud, jagged scream and staggered to the side. An unexpected reaction, but wholly in line with the trail of green blood trickling down its neck.

"Whoa," Lyra whispered. She was completely dumbstruck; she almost doubted her eyes. There was no way she could inflict a real wound on those monsters. Befuddled, she glanced back at the random thing she had grabbed from the floor. Then the mystery became clear.

She was holding the polished sword she had received from the Guard.

The Guard!

She jolted and looked around. All she could see was a swirling mass of ponies running in every direction... with an increasing density of black changelings, who seemed to trail and pounce on ponies without much rhyme or logic. There was something sorely amiss with that picture, as Lyra had sourly noted.

Where's the Celestia-bucked Guard?!

"Thanks! That was real nice of you. But I hope you won't mind if I... hsss!"

Her mind clouded by her frustrated musing, Lyra spent valuable seconds returning to reality. Running on first instinct, she held the sword in front of her.

It was the right call to make.

The violinist she had saved was now lunging at her, the blue pony's teeth snapping closed around the blade. That image was enough to make Lyra cringe; she couldn't imagine why anypony would do that. Then the violinist's body rippled and danced with a green light, turning smaller and black.

Wha... don't tell me all these bugs can shapeshift!

The realization came a little too late. The changeling, still biting onto the sword, threw a hoof into Lyra's face. It was a weak blow, barely enough to disorient her; but it was still enough to create an opening. The grip of her unicorn magic failing, Lyra saw the creature pushing her sword away. The sharp bug-teeth had a clean shot at her neck-

-but then the changeling passed up on the golden chance. It simply crashed into Lyra, even going as far as wrapping its legs around her.

Lyra didn't understand how she survived, but she didn't feel like giving the monster a second chance. She brought the sword down, striking the bug-thing on the head with the pommel. The changeling promptly went limp and collapsed onto the ground.

Whoa. I didn't even use the pointy end... this thing is ridiculously dangerous! Lyra gave the sword a glimpse, full of dread and admiration. Then she moved her gaze to the unconscious bug, and wrinkled her eyebrows. But why did the bug break off that attack? It's like... it forgot what it was about to do. Mid-move, no less.

"Master!"

Turning to the windigo with a self-deprecating chuckle, Lyra realized which very important power of hers she had overlooked.





"They... they're everywhere! We've no idea where they came from! They just popped out of nowhere!"

The Source gave the trooper a curt nod, but tried to pay no real mind to the snivelling soldier. It was annoying, having to deal with those inconsequential imbeciles.

Their armour and weapons may have been medieval, but a well organized force of fifty armed ponies could have easily wreaked havoc with Chrysalis' plans. The changelings, while numerous, were sorely lacking in tactics and coordination. Fifty troopers couldn't have won against the onslaught, that much was true; but they could have stalled the invasion, were they any bit competent.

Competent those Guards were not, however. They had let their chance slip by. They may have been trained and equipped, but this was the first time they had been involved in a real fight - and it clearly showed. Being ripped from their comfortable and peaceful reality had completely shattered their resolve.

They had been weighed and were found lacking.

Then again, this was the expected result. The Source mused silently, its violet-red eyes studying the shivering soldier. I would have needed to lure them away, were they threatening to interfere with the battle.

"Right. It seems we have fallen into a trap," the Source declared, in a stern and sterile voice. To anypony watching, the fake Guard officer persona must have looked like the most confident officer ever. "There's no reason to waste your lives in a meaningless battle. Fall back and send for reinforcements."

Giving actual orders wasn't strictly necessary. The only thing holding the Source's interest were the two players locked in their battle; but to maintain the act of Guard officer, it had no choice but to act out the concerns of a real Guard officer as well. There was no telling how long it had to remain in that disguise.

"Fall back? But... but Sir, those things are going to overrun the whole town!" The soldier stuttered. His armour clattered; he was shaking like a leaf. "It's going to be a disaster if we-"

"I doubt you could put a dent in that invasion force." The Source gave a guttural snort and flashed angry eyes. "You have failed to hold the plaza - what makes you think you could hold a much larger perimeter?"

The soldier's jaw drooped; he was obviously not thinking in such precise terms. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, then gave a slow nod.

"I'm... sorry, Sir. We were really trying our best, Sir."

"You have achieved nothing, in the end. Don't you know that trying is just wishful thinking?" The Source snarled, then drew the small blade from the holster on its armour. "I will keep them distracted. You fall back and wait until your reinforcements arrive."





Her teeth clattering against other, Lyra swung the sword with all her might. The blade glittered and drew a wide arc in the air, finally catching the wing of the changeling who was barrelling at the musician. The leathery membrane didn't offer much resistance and cracked at the mere touch. The changeling immediately banked hard and crashed into the ground, his face showing utter confusion even as he disappeared in a rising cloud of dust.

Lyra missed her chance to see that dumbstruck face. Two more changelings crashed into her, both on the right. The creatures were obviously aiming to bring her onto the ground; render her unable to resist.

They were doing a pretty good job at it, too.

The changelings' combined momentum was more than what Lyra could handle. She reeled under the impact and her legs buckled. Her world tipped, then her side hit something solid; finally, the dusty brown ground filled half her vision.

Uh-oh. This isn't goo-gyah!

A set of pointy teeth sunk into her skin. It wasn't as bad as the first time it had happened; she had already figured the bugs weren't biting to kill. Whatever they were getting from ponies, they needed to drain it while the victim was still alive. And as long as she lived, she had an ever-ready option to break free.

"Snowy!"

Her voice was completely drowned out by the chaos filling the plaza. Just speaking the words was enough, however. The two changelings froze and turned to each other, both of them expecting the other to say something.

Well, one of them did get to groan as two hooves rearranged their facial features.

"There's too many of them!" Snowy whined, the windigo's crimson eyes darting around the seemingly endless horde of pony-shaped bugs.

Lyra grunted something like a 'yes' as she pushed herself up. Blood was trickling from her neck; it wasn't a serious wound though, and she knew it would heal the next time she used Snowy's power. She was more worried about her head. A headache was building in the back of her skull, and it was getting worse every time she asked the windigo to help her out.

I'm losing my memories, aren't I?

She rose to a wobbly stand, and her first thing to do was to give her head a generous shake. There was no use in worrying over her memories. Given the choice of living as an amnesiac and not living at all, her decision came easy.

She used her magic to retrieve the sword from the dust, and braced for the next round. She was making good progress in getting away from the stage, but the plaza felt really big with all the changelings in the way. She had to fight her way through a real army just to reach the nearest street.

Raising the sword in an uncertain stance, Lyra narrowed her eyes and sneered at the next incoming changeling.

As if I would be dying here! Bon would never forgive me!

"Hold the sword firm! Point the tip upwards, keep it parallel to the ground!" Snowy barked instructions. The windigo didn't stop at words; she popped up in Lyra's vision and even tried to show how to handle the weapon correctly. "Thrust at the enemy, make him break the attack off!"

Lyra couldn't help but wonder how unlike it was of Snowy to use such a stern tone.

You're just repeating a lesson you've heard, aren't you.

Funnily enough, that made it even more important that she did as she was told.

She tried to keep the sword steady, then pushed forward when the changeling was close. The blade shot out, propelled by her unicorn magic; and the changeling reacted as predicted. He threw himself to the left, out of harm's way. The safety was very short-lived however, as the sword also corrected, veering towards him. The actual blade swished quite close to the changeling; it would have given his mane a trim had he had any. Lyra felt she would miss, and did a last-second correction, pushing the hilt down. The blade yawed upwards, and the pommel rammed squarely into the changeling's temple, knocking him out cold.

There was no stop.

Something fell onto Lyra, driving her face-forward into the ground. She didn't need to look; the snarling-hissing noise coming from above told her everything she needed to know.

"Let go of Master!"

Lyra grunted as another wave of pain rushed through the inside of her skull.

I hope this wasn't anything important, she winced. She was making full use of the sacrifice; she dug her left hooves into the ground and pushed, making herself spin around. The changeling atop her was so confused that he failed to react in any meaningful way. He lost his footing and tumbled to the ground, only twitching when a cyan coloured hoof bumped into his nose, roughly shoving his head back.

Lyra didn't even get to stand up this time. From the corner of her eye, she saw a changeling charging at her. The bug was brandishing a strangely familiar sword in his mouth, his head bobbing up and down as the weapon's weight dragged it. Rolling around so her hooves were all on the ground, Lyra gave the attacker an angered glare.

Oi, oi, oi! This isn't fair! That sword's mine! Give it back!

The changeling must have heard her thoughts. His white teeth sunk deeper into the weapon's bone-grey hilt, and he leaped forward.

Lyra found herself flabbergasted at the attack. This changeling was honestly going to kill her. She hadn't been fighting the bugs for more than a few minutes, but she was already used to them trying to take her alive. The direct, almost banal attempt on her life was a possibility she had forgotten about.

"DODGE!" Snowy screamed. She also tried to push Lyra out of the way, but her incorporeal legs passed through her master.

Lyra felt her legs turning into granite, in turn. She saw the blade reaching at her - she knew what was going to happen - she wanted to avoid it - but her body simply wouldn't react. As stupid as it soundws, she was bracing for the impact.

As long as the blow doesn't kill me, I can keep using Snowy to heal myself.

That was a pretty big if, though.

Even so, she simply flinched and flexed her muscles. The stained and grimy tip of the sword drew close to her and would reach any moment-

There was a loud clang. Sparkles popped into the air and then disappeared right away, almost as if they were nothing but a momentary illusion. The sword broke free of the changeling's hold and crashed to the ground, bouncing and skidding; the changeling himself landed shortly afterwards, his head digging a shallow trench into the dirt.

Lyra was overjoyed by what she saw. She didn't even notice, but she was grinning like an imbecile; no small feat with the headache lurking inside her skull.

"You came back!"

The Guard officer stepped off the defeated changeling and gave Lyra a small, barely noticeable nod. There was no approval in his eyes, though. Quite the opposite.

Actually, those eyes, those violet eyes with a crimson-red outer layer... Lyra was sure she had seen those before. She shook her head in an attempt to do away with the suspicion; this was hardly the right time or place for idle pondering.

"You're running away." The Guard officer pointed out a rather obvious fact, then cocked his head to the side. "Why would you do that? You did well. Especially so for a mere musician."





Of all the weird chats in Lyra's life, this was close to taking the cake.

"Oh come ON!" She hollered. She yanked the sword back into her grip - not a moment too soon either, for a changeling's sharp teeth were already clenched around the cold metal. "Of course I'm running away! DUH!"

"Why?" The officer repeated the question. He stepped next to Lyra and sunk his short-sword into the changeling's neck, near the base of its skull. The bug-creature jolted and collapsed like a marionette that had its cords cut. The armoured colt didn't even pause at the sight; he yanked the sword free and continued talking as if nothing of interest had happened. "Right now, we're about the only ones opposing these monsters. It feels like a missed opportunity, having you flee as well."

Backing away a little, Lyra heaved dryly. She hadn't realized up to now, but this was the first time she had actually seen something get killed. The legs of the changeling were still twitching ever so slightly, but it was obvious the thing was done for. She couldn't bear to look at it; and that body wasn't the only thing she felt uncomfortable about.

He killed this bug without any hesitation whatsoever. She gave the Guard officer a brief, overt glimpse. Is this really how soldiers work?

She must have been really obvious, as the officer deduced her thoughts with minimal effort.

"Don't give me that look. They wouldn't give you any quarter either. The only reason they aren't killing you outright is because that'd ruin their meal." He shrugged, stating the chilling fact with an impeccably even and uninterested tone. "Seriously, what do you think changelings need ponies for?"

Flinching away as uneasiness joined her headache, Lyra found no fault in the officer's argument. It didn't make her any less disturbed about taking lives, however.

"It's you or them," the officer stressed his point. "Even if you could convince them to leave, they would just attack another town. They wouldn't sit idly and starve to death."

"You sure make it sound trivial," Lyra frowned. She didn't like the finality in the officer's words. Appropriately, the sword she was holding felt heavier; she toyed with the idea of casting it away. She couldn't afford to be that squeamish, however. She was depending on that tool to survive. Without it, the next changeling would be the one to bring her down.

Talking of which, she noted something unusual. There was a lull in the battle. Compared to the mad rush of earlier, she had had no changelings charging at her for more than a couple seconds already. A bubble had formed around her, an area of empty ground. The bugs must have started keeping a safe distance from the troublesome pony.

That was one theory, anyway.

On the other hoof, she had beaten off dozens of the bugs and none of them had seemed to care. They had all been charging at her with suicidal determination... right until the Guard officer had come to her aid. Enter the soldier who was actually killing them without batting an eye - and presto, they were in a zone of relative safety.

Was I being half-hearted?

Her amber eyes scanning the wall of hesitating changelings surrounding her, Lyra found her mind grinding away on that very simple question. The dead changeling at her hoof, it was unsettling her. She had seen funerals, and knew that lives eventually ended at some point; but intentionally putting lives out, that was an incomprehensible concept. 

Me or them, huh...

She had to re-evaluate her stance as the lull dragged on. She had felt fine earlier, but only because of the adrenaline clouding her senses. Standing still and winding down had allowed a better peek into her real condition, however. The first results were disheartening: she ached all over. Muscles all around her body were aching and burning, protesting against the unusual workload. She had lots of tiny bite-marks, most of them half-way healed; and even worse were the bruises she had suffered during the repeated falls and drops... 

And then there was her head. She tried to avoid thinking about that one, but she couldn't ignore the issue forever.

Her bliss-born confidence melted away in the face of those pains. She may have beaten a lot of changelings, but she was only halfway out of the plaza.

Can I actually make it?

The various ails painting a grimace onto her face, Lyra could well imagine her body giving up before she reached safety. And, of course, she had no idea whether the changelings would keep hounding her. There were a lot of ponies in the plaza after all, so it seemed unlikely the bugs would follow her into the streets. Not when there was food more readily available-

She squeezed her eyes and shook her head, so wildly that her mane flapped against her neck. All in vain; nothing helped. The troublesome thought remained in the fore of her conscious.

I really was the only one fighting, she admitted, her teeth clenched so hard her gums turned white. Could I have made a stand instead? Could I have... could I have saved the ponies stuck here? Some of them?

"How long do you intend to run, anyway?" The Guard officer asked without bothering to look at her. The rude notion didn't bother Lyra this once; partly because of her other concerns and partly because she liked the idea of another pony watching her back. "At this rate, the changelings will completely overrun this town. Do you really think this threat has a minimal safe distance?"

"They can't follow me forever!" Lyra squeezed the words out her mouth. She punctuated them with a grunt, too; she was having difficulties convincing herself.

She hadn't realized until now, but her whole rationale was based on the changelings sticking to Ponyville. That would have given her the chance to run away, to reach safety. To disappear into Everfree, or beyond. But now, as she thought deeper about it, all she could see were the costs of that plan. She knew a lot of good ponies in Ponyville. It was her home.

It wasn't her duty to protect the place. Not by trade. The idea of so easily abandoning her home, however... 

Not even mentioning her friends.

"True, they wouldn't hunt for you. Not when they have easier targets to devour." The officer nodded. He sounded oddly calm, especially for a pony describing a horrific disaster. "I wonder though, could you warn Bon in time?"

Lyra jolted. Her ears dipped and her jaw dropped, her pains fading into the background.

She hadn't forgotten about Bon, not for a moment - but she hadn't thought about how she would get Bon to safety, however. It was pushing her limits to just drag her own self out of danger. There was no way she could cover for another pony.

"It would be a shame if she were to become one of the sacrificial victims." The officer broke his emotionless tone for a dark chuckle.

"Wait a moment. How would a militia know? Is Master's relationship with miss Bon this widely known?" Snowy hummed and wrinkled her eyebrows. It was a worthwhile question, but also one that went completely ignored by the other parties.

"It's not my job to keep this invasion at bay...!" Lyra lowered her head and mumbled, her amber eyes focused on the wall of changelings ahead of her. She wasn't sure if she still had the spirit to fight. She felt like spitting; her words filled her mouth with a rancid taste. Something in her was driving her to flee, to save her own life; and while she was still listening to that subconscious urge, she was also hating her own self for doing so.

"Well, too bad! Life is what happens instead of our plans." The Guard officer chuckled. He also sneered and waved his short-sword at the changeling which inched closer to him. "You need to make a choice here, Lyra Heartstrings. You can either be a hero or leg it."

Lyra clenched her teeth, to the point where she could feel her molars wanting to pop from the places. She understood what the officer had said - she had clearly understood all of it. She simply couldn't bring herself to overpower that thrice-damned survival instinct of hers.

There was no way she would walk into her own demise. Willingly staying in a trap was nothing less, after all. Yet, at the same time...

...what's the point of saving my own hide? I get to wake up tomorrow, hip-hip-hooray. But... what's the point if I save myself at the cost of everypony else? Where could I go... where would I feel at home, if I couldn't take Bon with me?

"I understand you want to run away. That would have been my gut instinct as well... a long while ago." The Guard officer monologued on. He chose an interesting way to get Lyra's attention: he took a small step to the side, his armour bumping the musician in the rear. "However, I know better now. There is little value in merely existing. And now, it's time for you to make this choice, Lyra! Are you content with limping through existence... or do you want to leave your mark? To change the world?" 

"Ever been told you're really pretentious for a professional?" Lyra glanced at the soldier with a wry grin. The colt was right, though. Just running away - she may live if she did so, but only at a terrible cost. She didn't have forever to make this decision, either. The changelings surrounding her were becoming restless; she tightened her magic around the sword and prepared for the newest onslaught.

Aaaaargh! Damn it all!

She swallowed, but her mouth and throat was as dry as sandpaper. Despite the lull, her breathing was jagged and each of her heartbeats were akin to a kettle drum going off.

"Let's say that I... that I go along with your plan. What... what do I do then?"

The soldier was going to ask her to stay and fight; she had already figured that much. With that one down, it didn't really matter what the rest of the plan was. Her part would be to stop running away and to keep fighting as long as she could.

Hehehe... it feels pretty weird, signing my death warrant. Lyra giggled to herself. Drops of cold sweat raced down her neck. The dull pain was lifting from her head, but it was a temporary relief at best. She would need to keep making use of Snowy; she stood no chance in a battle without the windigo's assistance.

I wonder which memory will come next...

Still gritting her teeth, her lips curled upwards to form a rather misshapen, toothy grin.

Eh, whatever. I'm going to die an amnesiac. Big deal! Still better than facing myself every morning, thinking about the good old times when I... when I hadn't let my friend die. Just so I could run away.

"The aim is to save as many as possible, of course." The officer turned his head around, his stern glare focused on Lyra. "Only, there's no way we could both get away and still save everypony. However, if you could buy me enough time to break out of this plaza and order an evacuation... then we could save a good portion of the residents."

Lyra cocked her head to the side and blinked, then chuckled darkly.

"Oi, oi... why does it feel like I'm staying so you could run away?"

"It's a matter of necessity. I am a Guard and carry the voice of authority; you are a nobody right now." The officer narrowed his eyes. The changelings were definitely creeping towards him; whatever aura of fear he had garnered was starting to fade. "From the two of us, the townsfolk would only follow my commands readily."

Lyra breathed in and nodded.

That makes sense. 

"Make sure you get Bon out!" She grunted and placed her sword at the ready. "I swear I'll haunt you if you let anything happen to her!"

"I promise that nothing will befall her," the officer made a curt nod. "Provided you can get me enough time, of c-"

The changelings burst into a deafening roar, the loud noise drowning the rest of the colt's words out.





Still perched on the stage, Chrysalis watched one of the changelings feed and broke into a melancholic sigh.

No matter which angle she tried to pick, there was always something revolting in the scene.

The loyal minion wasn't even halfway done, but his pony of choice had already run dry. There was no outward indication of that, of course; but Chrysalis had seen enough glassy eyes and drooling mouths to know what the face indicated. She gave the pegasus a few more seconds before it was completely bereft of emotions. At that point the changeling would depart and leave the soulless husk alone, looking for a second meal.

According to Chrysalis' modest estimations, her army of changelings could wrap up the whole town in an hour or so. It's not that they were so fast - it was the poor nutritional value. The ponies in this sleepy town were barely worth anything.

How unsightly, greeting a Queen such as Myself with such paltry offering!

She averted her gaze from the underling and glanced to the left, at the red dragon. She tried to keep the look of a royal empress, she really did; but despite her attempts, her mouth curled into an angry snarl.

I knew I shouldn't have listened to you. All these morsels here barely compare to a single princess. And there would have been no less than three of them in Canterlot!

Chrysalis closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She fought her anger, suppressed it, bottled it down. It was an exercise in futility, wasting her emotions on her stupid servant. She had lashed out at the dragon so many times before - and always to no avail. The reptile was resilient to logic, to pleading, to threats... to pretty much everything in the known universe.

That was nothing like what Chrysalis had expected out of her deal with the Source. She was promised a being of infinite power, one almost on par with the mighty Discord. That could have been true, for all it was worth. Which wasn't a lot; not when her dragon only possessed the power to destroy emotions.

She had had the dragon for quite a while now, but her mind still boggled at the whole story. If only she could have met the Source again! She would have given that hooded hoodlum a piece of her mind. The nerve! To present such a useless gift to a Royal such as herself!

Then again, changing the target of her invasion wasn't the fault of the dragon. Not fully. All Sloth did was egging her about Canterlot; that attacking the place where all the Guard, all the Princesses and the Elements were converging was tantamount to suicide. That argument was solid, and still stood. What Sloth had forgotten to mention was how evading risks meant giving up on rewards at the same time.

Chrysalis couldn't bring herself to berate the dragon on that oversight.

A Queen such as Myself should really not need be reminded of such banalities, after all.

She shook her head slowly and sombrely, then stood up.

 No sense in brooding over past mistakes. And let us keep in mind: we do have the whole countryside to ourselves! The other towns will be the same light on guard.

That was the exact kind of planning she wasn't used to: cautious and slow. Still, she could see one great benefit to it; one that allowed her to overlook her personal disdain.

My victory march into Canterlot will be a LOT sweeter with the fires of Equestria providing the backdrop. Ha! I'll dethrone that ugly Celestia even before I crack her puny fortress... she wouldn't be much of a ruler without anyone to rule over, right? Hah.

Standing on the ramshackle stage of Ponyville plaza, all of that was no more than a distant dream though. Chrysalis still found in her to smirk; she was already enjoying the taste of complete victory. Then the needs of the present pulled her out of her dreamland. Her minions were almost done wrapping up the plaza; so it was time for her to lead them into the adjacent streets.

The ability to think for themselves wasn't among the changelings many fortes.

"Changelings!" She boomed, her clear voice overpowering the cacophony generated by her feeding minions. "After me! Our next target is-"

A choir of enraged yells interfered with her refined voice.

Chrysalis turned her head and sneered; then hesitated and allowed the interference to slide. She was angered; it wasn't proper to interrupt those of royal standing. It was only a minor transgression though, especially considering the circumstances.

Battlefields had rarely proven to be receptive to etiquette.

She belayed her own order by keeping silent. She only shook her head, in both dismay and disinterest. It made no sense to move on, not until her minions were done with all the resistance. That decision she accepted with a curt nod, and paced forwards. She could sense how her minions had missed a few of the ponies; she might as well joined the clean-up herself.

Might as well make the most of this delay and tie all the loose ends.

She had to pay great care to her steps as she walked. The ground was littered with ponies; all of them with the same glassy eyes, the same expressionless faces. They were alive, in the technical sense of the word - but Chrysalis could only liken them to the zombies of novel books. She didn't give them too much thought, certainly no more than a spider would give insects trapped in its web.

"This is simply a rule of nature... no-one wants to starve. Only while you eat grass, we eat emotions." Chrysalis exclaimed as she came to a stop near a random pile of bodies. "Though I suppose I would not find this placating, were our roles reversed."

She rose a hoof and brought down, her hole-ridden leg landing on the side of a green earth pony. The pony came to life and kicked wildly - and in vain too, for Chrysalis was way too strong to be dislodged like that.

"Playing dead. A fine trick against wild animals or my less astute changelings... but a pretty poor bet against MY senses." Chrysalis flashed a sly grin. Then she closed her eyes and enjoyed the influx of raw emotions. Ponies were always so complex; they carried many layers of thoughts and feelings. While most of them were too shallow for a proper meal, there was no denying that they were a tasty treat all the same.

Even this specimen carried multitudes of emotions. A little excitement with a side-dish of curiosity. Sadly all that had been drenched in a thick syrup of desperation and fear - but Chrysalis still found the taste rich. She was an expert in picking out the smallest flavours.

She licked her lip in anticipation... and then the feed stopped. Chrysalis opened her eyes and frowned, then moved away from the glassy-eyed, drooling meal of hers.

Figured they would barely be more than morsels. She fumed silently, already heading for the next fool who had dreamed of fooling her. I can hardly wait to enjoy a proper dish already.

Her concentration was broken by another barrage of loud hollering, again from the same direction. Her minions were having continued difficulties, apparently.

Oh come on! Chrysalis groaned. She went as far as shaking her head in open dismay. This worthless joke of a town is as defenceless as it gets. What's the hold up?





The swords clashed with a resounding, metallic clang. Sparks flashed and disappeared instantly, bits of hot metal tearing away from the blades' edges.

Lyra afforded herself a smug grin. She had always wondered why so many of the Guard used polearms; now she knew first-hoof.

The changeling in front of her had scavenged a weapon from the plaza. Which was a fine idea in itself - but lacking magic, the changeling had to hold the blade in his mouth. This proved short-sighted at the very first parry. Lyra's magic easily absorbed the violent feedback of the colliding weapons; the changeling, in turn, looked as if he had taken the blow directly to his head. The weapon flipped from his mouth and he flinched away, dazed and disoriented.

It was a vindictive sight.

Hoh! Seems I'm not the worst at this swordplay thingy!

Lyra backpedalled to keep her distance from the rest of the advancing changelings, slashing the sword roughly in their direction. The distance was so big the attack had no chance to actually connect - but the aim was to scare the changelings and keep them away, which it did achieve to an extent.

The changelings stopped as soon as the blade whooshed in the air, cowering or even taking hurried steps back.

It was the same oddity that Lyra had noticed for the last few attacks. The changelings had surrounded her in a circle, but only attacked her meal-piece, and never from the front. It was as if her opponents were getting afraid of her.

No, it couldn't have been her. There was no way the changelings would be afraid of a simple pony, after all. She could only surmise that the changelings were getting increasingly afraid of the sword.

Lyra couldn't help but feel lucky for that ill-conceived notion. She couldn't possibly hold her own were all those changelings to rush her at once; but with the panic-stricken behaviour of her foes, she could hold the small army of them at bay.

"There's no way out. We're completely surrounded." Snowy stated the obvious. The windigo was standing back-to-back with Lyra, providing her master with an additional set of eyes. And some negativity, as well. "Master can't possibly deal with all these monsters! At this rate..."

Lyra gave the assessment a wry smirk and yanked her head to the side, flapping her wet mane to the other side of her neck. She was drenched in sweat; she wasn't used to such borderline-abusive workouts. It was only a matter of time before her stamina ran out, even with Snowy's healing power backing her up.

Big surprise.

Of course she would get overwhelmed. There was no way she could overpower so many changelings. But by holding out as long as possible, she was saving a lot of lives.

Including that of Bon.

Her magic squeezed the sword's hilt tighter, and she drew the blade closer to her.

"It's okay." Lyra mumbled, squeezing the words into the gaps between her shallow pants. "This is for... for the greater good."

"Master, if I may. We have been chasing that greater good ever since Master found me." Snowy growled, her crimson gaze focusing on the two most active changelings. "With all due respect, this might be a good time to give the whole 'hero' business a pass. It has worked our rather poorly so far."

Chuckling sombrely, Lyra had to give her windigo a silent commendation. Indeed, every time she had tried to help others, she had only sown the seeds for even greater disasters.

This once however... this was different. She was the only one to suffer this once.

Maybe it was for the better this way, too. She would become a hero, and wouldn't have to deal with her shattered life either.

Perhaps this is atonement. She clenched her teeth. The ultimate price for my cheats, perhaps?

She couldn't help but imagine that green-robed bastard looking at her from somewhere, snickering in the cover of the green hood. The thought upset Lyra, but the changelings gave her enough time to calm down as well.

I would have already died without Snowy anyway, she recounted the night when the snow had caved-in under her. Haha. Now that I think about it, wasn't my survival already a cheat?

"Master!" Snowy blared.

Lyra reacted to the call without any deliberation. She spun around, coming to face two changelings. Both were already in the air, and were followed by a smaller cadre of their brethren. It was a massive charge, but Lyra only gave the bugs a dry, toothy grin.

So I guess my death will be like, reparation.

It really shouldn't have, but the thought filled her with a strange sense of calmness. She wasn't giving up her life; she was making the most of a foregone conclusion.

She could see Snowy spring into action; the windigo's blue outlines flashed for a moment. Sharp pain rippled through Lyra's head, but she was already bracing for that after-effect. It didn't even slow her down - she was swinging the blade at the changelings.

Those very changelings fared a lot worse. The two leading the assault became disoriented mid-air, as if they had no idea what they were supposed to be doing. The hesitation came at a cost; they tumbled out of balance and crashed into the horde following them, creating a massive pile-up of screeching bugs. By the time Lyra's sword reached them the attack was already done for, the furthest changelings fleeing from the disaster.





There was something odd about that mare. All the changelings could tell that much. 

The Guard officer was a professional; they had expected losses against him. He had already fled, however. That had left the odd mare alone, against a whole army. By all expectations, she should have fallen long ago. The changelings have tried assaulting her again and again, wave after wave. She should have faltered, become tired and slipped up...

Only she hadn't done any of those.

That pony stood and weathered all of their attacks as if they hadn't meant business.

That made the changelings profoundly confused.

That mare didn't even look that strong. She was a musician, helpless like all the other ponies they had devoured. Judging by her movements, she had no fighting experience either. And yet, no changeling could take her down. Not even the most seasoned veterans of many raids.

It was as if the mare had something supernatural protecting her. She had some power the changelings couldn't feel or even fathom.

The changelings could only guess it was that thrice-darned sword. That was the only thing this pony possessed and the rest had not.

There was no other explanation.

Faced with that bizarre situation, the changelings reacted the only way they could. They shirked away from the mare and her sword, keeping a distance they believed to be safe.

It was preposterous, but they were losing to a single pony.





"Huh? Are you playing a joke on me? Are you lot still being hold up?"

Chrysalis let go of the yellow unicorn, and the unconscious body landed at her hooves with an unceremonious thud. The Queen of Changelings was barely done feeding, but her attention was already demanded somewhere else; she was staring at the gathering of changelings.

The crowd had fallen silent, but wasn't dispersing whatsoever. Staring at them, Chrysalis could only feel... confusion and bewilderment. And disappointment. Lots and lots of disappointment.

She gathered all that negativity and formed a single sigh out of it.

It seems that in the end, I have to do everything myself.

She breathed in deep, ran a hoof down her mane - a Queen always ought to look proper - and headed towards the crowd at a measured slow pace. She had no idea what was going on there, but she was sorting it out. So far, she was only certain on two things however.

Firstly, her changelings were in for some sound lesson. There was no way she could allow them to make fools of themselves - and of her, by proxy.

Secondarily, whoever put up such a defiant resistance was in for a great honour. For having proven so resilient, it was only proper that the Queen herself would be claiming that pony as prize.
> 28 - A misplaced siege, pt 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The changeling gave a startled screech; he'd failed to notice the Guard officer creeping up on him. His idea of calling for help was sound, but came too late. A shortsword landed straight in the middle of his neck, silencing him for good. He collapsed on the ground, the dull thud the loudest sound he ever got to make.

The Source glanced around hurriedly, waiting for some kind of reaction from the nearby houses.

This one almost warned the rest, the shapeshifted game-master chided itself. Tsk! Convenience is really the death of talent. I'm too used to warping reality and watching events from afar.

The mistake bore no retribution, however; nothing moved. The sounds of the nearby battle served as a great distraction.

The Source acknowledged the brief luck with a frown, and yanked the shortsword from the changeling. It was stupid, relying on godly powers that were only usable in very special circumstances.

I'm going to be in trouble once I'm back on the run. The Source wiped the short blade clean, then checked the entrance of a nearby house. The door offered no resistance and opened up with a creek. The occupants had left in a hurry, forgetting to even lock the house.

The Source gave that absent-mindedness a thankful smile, then hopped through the entrance and closed the door behind.

Now, where's the stairs to the second floor? 

The Source made its way across the deserted rooms, eyebrows wrinkled. The house was a little bit too large; and infuriatingly enough, some doors were locked inside.

Sheesh, I'm going to miss Lyra's fight because I can't find a good vantage point! The Source rolled its eyes. The game-master tried to pry a locked door open, but only had a short-sword to use; so the process was slow. While the Source had the powers to bypass such simple obstacles, pride had limited methods to those available to a simple Guard. 

I can't believe this! I can't even do surveillance without relying on cop-out powers any more?!





"They are pulling back."

Lyra gave Snowy's report a curt nod; the situation was the same on her end as well. Second by second, the circle of changelings surrounding her kept increasing in diameter.

"Did we win?"

This remark simply made Lyra snicker. There was no way the changelings would call it quits; a tough pony wasn't enough to beat an army of monsters. The bugs had a trick in store, she was sure of it.

"Unlikely," she mumbled, finally finding a moment of pause between two shallow pants of hers.

Sweat was rolling down her side, as if she was in a sauna. The salty droplets had found their way into the many scratches decorating her skin, producing a burning sensation that rivalled her headache. While Snowy's power carried some healing factor, it came at a great price; each burst of the servant magic tore at the fabric of Lyra's memories.

Thusly, Lyra was stuck between deciding if she wanted to keep her mind intact and suffer the wounds - or if she wanted to remain in prime shape, at the cost of completely erasing the pony who she was. The conundrum would have struck her as cruel, were it not for the fact that she was to be eaten by changelings either way. Knowing the outcome allowed her to pick her choices with cool practicality. She simply had to maximize the length of her resistance. All other considerations were secondary.

"When do we win?" Snowy turned back a little, just enough so she could sneak a peek at her master. "Is simply holding out still Master's best plan?"

Lyra squeezed one eye and drew a lungful of fresh air, the gears in her head turning. She had to convince Snowy, lest the windigo tried to 'save' her.

You still don't quite like my idea of honourable death, do you.

"The Guard... needs time to... evacuate everypony." She explained in a breathless voice. She was holding her head low, so her sweat would run towards the ground and avoid her eyes. The feeling was unusual; she had rarely had to consider such details before. "I... I'm the only one... left here. I'll... I'll have to do."

Snowy didn't answer to that one. Lyra didn't insist on talking too much either; she was all too busy catching her breath.

Far from her, the changelings were still retreating at a languid pace. "Far" being a relative term; the bugs were a little over fifty steps away - but from Lyra's perspective, the distance seemed to rival the length of Canterlot's longest avenues.

"Had I known Master was planning to make us heroes like this, I would have never gone along with this plan." Snowy broke into a grumble. The windigo kept her ears glued to her neck, in case the palpable displeasure in her voice wasn't enough. "What shall I do, if Master is no more?"

"Pfft. Who cares... 'bout that? You'll be a... a hero." Lyra struggled to speak. Every word fuelled the burning sensation in her lung.

"A hero who will reside inside an amulet, waiting for the next foolhardy Master who thinks they can tame my rotten luck!" Snowy snorted. She tried to dig her hooves into the ground, but the ghostly appendages didn't even stir the dirt. "That should give me enough time to lament on how I have broken the lives of my last two Masters. Hah... this could be my punishment for the previous one, I suppose." 

Lyra jolted, her concentration failing so badly that she almost dropped the sword.

Frig! I had completely forgotten about that amulet! She wrinkled her eyebrows, clenching her teeth so hard that her face started going numb. WHY?! Why can't I get anything right? Not even this! Why does everything I do must lead to somepony suffering?

"I-"

Whatever she wanted to placate Snowy with, the windigo never got to hear any of it. The changelings in front of Lyra parted, revealing a tall, alicorn-like figure. Lyra gasped and gulped dryly, all while whispering the name in dreadful reverence.

Chrysalis!

"So this was the reason for their temporary retreat." Snowy growled as she turned around. She ran her crimson eyes around, studying her environment; finally she gave a wry chuckle, grim determination and bits of joy mixing in her expression. "Sloth... that dragon is still on a rooftop, content with watching us. So she was telling the truth when she said that she wouldn't interfere."

"That... the dragon... she's the servant of Chrysalis?" Lyra glimpsed briefly at her windigo.

Oh c'me on! What am I supposed to do against this beast?!

"Yes, though that doesn't matter right now." Snowy paced past her master, taking a spot between the pony and the Queen of Changelings. She raised a ghostly hoof and pointed it at the alicorn changeling, rising her voice to the point where she was almost shouting. "Stop right there!"

Chrysalis wasn't intimidated by the threat. Quite the opposite - her lips curled into a crooked smile.

"Hoo... wouldn't you look at this. You got one of these useless servants yourself."





Her hoof digging into the hard soil, Lyra gritted her teeth and stopped backing away. Her fear of Chrysalis was still very much there, but she was also growing worried of backing too close to the regular changelings. The bugs had given her the favour of leaving her alone; she didn't want to tempt them into reconsidering.

"Do not come any closer." Snowy repeated, hissing through her bared teeth. She hadn't moved an inch from her spot, and was standing right in the face of the advancing Chrysalis. "This is your last warning. I will protect my Master!"

In a move that surprised everyone around, Chrysalis did stop. The pause seemed to have little to do with her being intimidated, though. The Queen's head cocked to the side, her mouth curling into an amused grin.

"Sure - but would you care to help me out a little, then? I am a little lost. Is this the point where I tremble in fear?"

Lyra couldn't help but notice how the Queen had used a most mocking voice, speaking as if she were a tourist looking for a map. Considering the dozens of ponies laying scattered around, Lyra would have been utterly enraged at such shameless effrontery - but standing in front of Chrysalis, she simply felt afraid.

Oi, oi, oi... she's not even the least concerned about Snowy! Actually, it's more like she's mocking us. Does she not know of Snowy's powers? Or... don't tell me! Is she really this good?!

"You would do well to fear me... to fear us." Snowy snorted and waved her head a little, giving the Queen a cue to look around. While far from the count of ponies, dozens of changelings littered the floor as well.

The sight was not lost on Chrysalis. She hummed and gave a tiny nod.

"Oh, so you meant this. Well, what could I say? Well done! Well done indeed."

Lyra's teeth stopped clattering. She was still trembling, but her lower jaw dropped, giving her teeth sufficient clearance from each other. The Queen of Changelings had actually meant those lines. There was not even a shred of mocking or dishonesty in her voice. Not much care either.

She simply doesn't give a darn, Lyra realized with a frown. I can't possibly beat up enough bugs to make a dent, and she knows it.

A drop of sweat racing down her nose, Lyra glanced at her sword. The weapon no longer struck her as elegant. The polished surface was completely hidden under the thick layers of dust, green blood and other assorted grime. She couldn't see the elegant weapon -  only a tool, used for inflicting pain. A crude, yet surprisingly efficient tool at that. A tool made for a singular purpose.

But it's not like I came here expecting to walk away. All I have to do is buy the others time.

She broke her gaze away from the sword and looked the Queen straight in the eyes.

"That's all you've got to say?" Lyra cackled. Her voice rang loud and clear; no longer did she tremble. She was still deathly afraid, but she had been given a second to compose herself; and she had used that second to build up quite an act. "I have beaten off like, dozens of your bugs. Me, an ordinary lyrist!"

"Charming. However, despite the many openings... I am not hiring if that is what you are thinking." Chrysalis yanked a hoof in front of her face, covering her mouth as she laughed. "Try not to misunderstand. You did well! ...but you are still food, and Queen Chrysalis does not stoop to cooperating with lesser beings."

Lesser being, huh?

Surrounded by dozens of unconscious changelings, Lyra would have had a few comments regarding that assessment. She simply swallowed and buried her objections, however. If the Queen wanted to feel superior, then she would gladly play along. Anything to make the conversation last longer.

Whatever! As long as I can stall the lot of you...! Bon, you better already be halfway to... uh...

She bit onto her lip, trying hard to not let the confusion set onto her face. Try as she might, she couldn't recall the name of the cursed forest right next door. It was so famous, too. Well, infamous more like...

...focus, girl! That forest doesn't matter! Only keeping this Queen tied down does!

"Lesser beings, huh. Well, I guess we did fall, like... pretty easily." Lyra chuckled sombrely. She looked around, turning her head in unnecessarily wide arcs. She wasn't looking around so much as giving the impression of looking around. "It's not like we had an even playing field, though."

"Fufufu... you would say that, I suppose. It is quite interesting, though - only losers complain about fights being unfair." Chrysalis sighed and removed the hoof from her face, running the limb to comb her mane into order. "Happens all the time, too. It is almost funny, now that I think about it! Why are you ponies so hung up about me not being fair? You would think that being reduced to a living zombie would bother you more, but I rarely hear much about that. Not until the royal teeth snap around your neck, anyway."

"Because not only have you got an army behind you, but you also have luck on your side!" Lyra cackled, doing her best to ignore the Queen's foreboding musing on teeth and necks. "See, all the Guards  left for Canterlot days ago. Were they still around-!"

"That has little to do with luck. I came here precisely because the Guard is not around."

The boastful remark of Chrysalis left Lyra dumbstruck. Her head drooped to the side as her left eyebrow crept skywards.

"Say what?"

"Do you truly think that a Royal such as me would lack common sense?" Chrysalis shook her head in disapproval, the move accompanied by a shallow chuckle. "All I had to do was threaten that stupid wedding! I knew those useless, cowardly princesses would call their lapdogs home. Which, of course, leaves you lot out in the cold - or ripe for the taking, from my point of view. Luck, you say? Hah! You are simply so inferior that you fail to see my genius."

The sword made a clang as the blade knocked against the ground; Lyra's magic had weakened to the point where she had almost let go of the weapon. While she had only meant the whole parley as a feint, her world had been completely turned upside-down instead.

I... was allowed to be eaten alive? Intentionally?

She didn't need to hide the trembling any more. She had failed to notice the exact moment, but fear had vanished from her mind - leaving a huge, empty space, devoid of any other emotion. The vacuum didn't promise to last long, though; for Lyra could feel anger bubbling, deep from her very being.

It's that wedding, isn't it? The one I've read about... where that whoever princess gets to hook up with the captain of the Guard. That's the one which got threatened, wasn't it?

"Seriously, I would have to be STUPID to go to Canterlot - especially after announcing that I would go there!" Chrysalis hollered. The act was quite unlike her. She seemed to have given up on looks; she was openly celebrating, laughing so loudly that her sides shook. "But no, Celestia does what a meekly noble would! She calls all her toy soldiers back home! The Elements, even! All so she could wall up and have The Perfect Wedding, bwahaha!"

Still floating around, the tip of the sword scraped against the ground. Lyra couldn't do anything useful with the weapon, but felt the need to hold onto it tight. Her magic displayed the same duality - a lot of force was put into the grasp on the hilt, but there was no purpose in the resulting moves.

I was... no, not just me. Bon, too... all of us, here... left on our own. We were left at the mercy of this monster.

There was no way she could accept anything from Chrysalis at face value. Those words, however... they rang so true. She had read about the wedding, about the threats; they were top news, overshadowing everything else. Most of the Guard had also disappeared as the big date had loomed closer. She hadn't left the house to see for herself, but she had heard Bon complaining about it.

And now there she was, surrounded by monsters and the unmoving bodies of a lot of ponies. She even knew some of them - she was sure of it. She was sure even though she failed to recall most names.

She flinched and ran her tongue down her teeth. Her mouth tasted incredibly sour; she found herself fighting the urge to spit.

"But do you know what is even better? No? Well, do allow the great Queen to educate you, then!" Chrysalis hollered. She was having a ridiculously good time; her tears were flowing and her hoof was slapping the ground. "This village is the one closest to Canterlot - so the other places will be even less defended! Of all the guests, I am receiving the best wedding gift! The entirety of Equestria, given to me on a silver platter! Hahahahah... after such an offering, I should really praise your oh-so-toity Sun Princess, would you not agree?"

All the muscles in Lyra's body tensed. She was back to shaking - but this time she was struggling to stay still. 

Other places? The... entirety of?! Is she... is she really going to go on attacking every town after this?

A thin, bloody mist began clouding her vision; a familiar sensation. She had felt like this before, back among those accursed icy hills. Back when she had the talk with that perverted viscount. The one who raved about the princess being involved in this wicked game of his. The 'white hag', as Lyra remembered the phrase. She hadn't given those ideas much thought, but-

-but didn't Pinkie also say there were a lot of servants in Canterlot? That the princess is a big time player?

Lyra's eyes widened as reality dawned on her.

Celestia's a thousands years old pony. She's shrewd. She wouldn't call the Guard away... not on a whim, not like this. So this whole disaster, this is for a purpose. 

"It's because I have survived." Lyra whispered. She couldn't help it; she could see as the pieces came together. Everything started making sense to her.

It's all because of me. I was made fight against this monster.

It had to be that way. She had no proof, but she didn't feel that detract from the validity.

They couldn't take Snowy from me in the hills, so now they would kill me here instead. And who would make a better assassin than such an obvious monster? Who would blame the changelings for killing ponies?

Chrysalis stopped laughing and eyed Lyra carefully. The queen seemed a little puzzled - she had only heard one word, and couldn't place that fragment anywhere.

"Survive?" The Queen balked as she echoed the sole word she had managed to pick up. "Seriously, you plan on surviving? Against my changelings? Against me?"

Lyra glanced up, looking Chrysalis square in the eyes. She no longer feared the bug-alicorn; there was little for her to fear. Her world was crumbling down around her anyway.

"Just promise me something." She uttered the words with a crooked smile. "You were lured here to kill me... and that's all right. But let me suffice. No more - okay?"

"Lured? No more? Hahaha, what? No more?" Chrysalis frowned. She shook her head wildly, a gurgling laughter escaping her mouth. "Who are you to order me around, huh? Of course we will not stop!"

The sword in Lyra's magical grip shook.

Right... of course she wouldn't stop. There's no power to oppose her. She is free to hunt down everypony... even Bon. Tsk! All of this just because of this game... because of me. The changelings are going to slaughter so many... just so Celestia could get her hooves on Snowy. This is... this...!

"All of Equestria is mine for the taking!" Chrysalis raised her hooves and hollered on. "I will roam this whole country and collect all of your emotions for MY glory! And then I will conquer Canterlot and break your haughty Princesses! So shut up and stand still while I-"

The Queen of Changelings couldn't finish her request. She had to shut her mouth and yank her head away, lest a sword made an intimate connection with her skull.





"Tsk. Getting baited into something stupid... I expected better of you."

The Source shook its head in disapproval. The Guard helmet's crest brushed against the window frame, threatening to dislodge the helmet from the pony's head; so the Source had no choice but to withdraw, taking a step away. Truth be told, that Guard armour was getting on the shapeshifted pony's nerves. Reverting back to the ethereal game master would be giving up on the Guard persona however, and that officer still might had some uses.

Staring out the window, the Source returned its gaze to the freshly continued battle below. It seemed that Lyra had charged at Chrysalis with a 'plan' that consisted solely of 'swinging a sword'. Which was an amusing sight, but certainly not what a smart player would have done.

The Source registered that development with a frown. This was unfortunate.

"But then again... this battle was always meant to check if you are as fit as I thought." The Source mused through the mouth of the Guard masquerade. "You will either prevail over Chrysalis... or I will have to keep looking for a more suitable player."

The calm tone belied the worries clouding the Source's mind, however. There was a reason for choosing a pony as unfit as Lyra. There wasn't much time left, and the choices grew more radical as the remaining time dwindled.

No reason to panic just yet. She may just send that oversized bug packing home, the Source thought as it bit its lip. And should that happen... hmm.

The forged iron armour creaked as the Source raised a hoof to rub its chin.

Should that really happen, I'm pretty sure I could use this Guard officer to dye you into the colours I want. Yes... it could turn out perfect this time. You could be the solution I have been looking for so long.

The Source moved its red-violet eyes to the figures below. Owing to the shapeshifting magic, there was no hood to hide the Source's face; the Guard helmet covered only so much. Had anypony looked, they could have seen the worry settling onto the game master's face.

You insipid musician... don't you dare fail me!





Chrysalis hopped to the side. It didn't seem as if she was fighting - she was so carefree that she was almost dancing, her dodge accented by a completely pointless turn to the side.

Lyra gritted her teeth and cursed under her breath. She had been charging at the Queen just moments ago, but now she was galloping past the oversized bug. She tried to keep up with her opponent, but she couldn't turn as fast as Chrysalis was moving to the side.

Not even her sword could keep up with the Queen, despite her pushing her magic to its limits.

Wha-!

She was angry at first; while greatly suppressed, the ingrained instincts of a stage performer were still working in her mind. She had just done a grand charge - only to miss her target completely.

Keh! I must be looking ridiculous right now...!

The danger inherent to the situation didn't occur to her. Not until she noticed Chrysalis out of the corner of her eye. The Queen was on her right - and she was completely defenceless. The sword was still ahead of her and Snowy was lagging behind - not as if the ghost could have tackled the bug Queen anyway.

She's got a free shot at my side-!

The panicking realization was on the spot, but came too late. Lyra's ribs crackled as a hoof crashed into them, and she was flying the next moment. The sky and the ground turned as she flipped mid-air, then began spinning as she rolled on the floor. Then the mad tumble ended; she skidded on the dusty soil and came to a full stop, bathed in the dust her landing had kicked up.

Her recent experiences dictated that she stand right back  up. Once on the floor, ponies were easily pinned down by changelings; and then it was game over. Lyra's body couldn't follow her desire to stand, however. Her limbs didn't move; there was no power in them. She was hurting all over. Lights danced in her vision and everything was blurry; she wasn't fully aware of the fact, but she was close to blacking out.

She simply lay on the ground... watched as a stray, lazy gust moved her mane, scattered the dust underneath her nose. Ignoring the larger world around her, it was a tranquil sight.

Well, this was a short fight.

It was over so quickly. She had made a wrong move and had taken a hit. That kind of thing was to be expected, too; she was the one at a disadvantage. She was a mere musician, after all. Queen Chrysalis was- well, she was a monster of whole different rank. Laying in the dust and sipping air as deeply as her burning ribs allowed, Lyra was pretty sure the Queen had seen her fair share of fights already.

Ahahah... you're kidding, right? Am I really supposed to stall this monster? How?

"Master!"

Lyra's lips curled to a wry smile. She couldn't move, but could tell that the windigo was already next to her. She could positively feel the crimson gaze measuring her up, trying to work out how badly she had been hurt.

Oi, oi, oi... give me a break. Already back to the usual routine? You never give up, do you?

The sheer presence of Snowy was enough to inspire Lyra. She winced in pain, but pushed herself up. She was shaking; just staying upright was challenging.

"Is Master all right?" Snowy prodded the pony with a ghostly hoof. "We should really get out of here! This is getting really dangerous... had those monsters not stayed put, Master could be dead now!"

Monsters... why does it sound funny, hearing that from your mouth? Lyra glimpsed at the windigo, then ran her gaze in a full circle.

Snowy was only half-right. The circle of changelings wasn't just staying put - they had gone out of their way to not interfere. Whether fearing the strange pony or the wrath of their Queen, the bugs had stayed out of the fight completely. They had even had the courtesy to provide extra space; their lines had shifted to allow Lyra to land.

"We need to-" Snowy began to repeat the warning, but shut up as Lyra waved a shaking hoof at her.

"Is' arrite'." She mumbled. Mangled words left her mouth; the impact had slammed her nose into the ground, and she could barely talk. Being short on air didn't help matters either. "Gotta' keep 'em 'ere. For... uh..."

She paused. She couldn't recall the name.

Whatever. The name isn't so important anyway!

"Am' shh... stayin'." She declared firmly. She turned her amber gaze down and scanned the ground; she was looking for something among the many scattered bodies. Ponies and changelings were laying around her - sprawled out and unmoving, resting side-by-side. There was something poignant about the image... but Lyra couldn't bring herself to think deeply about it. Something shiny caught her attention, and she yanked the sword back into her grip.

I need to save you. So I will hold out for a little longer... for as long as I can.

Then, finally, the name clicked into her mind.

"Gotta' stay. For Bon."

Snowy watched the amber-clad sword float closer, then turned her eyes to the ground and shook her head.

"For Miss Bon, huh... doesn't that depend on the officer keeping his word? We're placing an awful lot of faith in a pony we've never met before, Master."

Lyra closed her eyes and chuckled.

True enough.

"No point in rh... runnin' away alone." She grinned and spat some blood to her hooves. She was panting too rapidly to swallow, and the copper taste was getting on her nerves.

"I wonder if Miss Bon would be thinking the same," Snowy sighed and turned around, facing Chrysalis along with her master. "Even so, I shall abide Master's wishes. A last stand it is, then."

The shift in tone didn't escape Lyra's notice. She could hardly blame the windigo, though.

Of course you would be disappointed. I'm returning you to the amulet... and to that viscount. I would be pretty disappointed myself, to be honest. She smirked to herself as she took an unsteady stance with the sword. You're also right about Bon... I guess she would hate me for leaving her alone.

Lyra had no idea why, but Chrysalis was still standing in the same spot. It was quite likely a trap; but she couldn't afford to sit around and see what would happen. The Queen was much more agile than her, and more experienced too; there was no way she could survive if she were forced on the defensive. And that was without all the changelings factored in.

No, she had to press the attack. Hopeless as it may have been, it was her best chance to drag the conflict. She threw herself forward, into a gallop. She almost fell back on her nose and was swaying wildly even afterwards. Her aching legs barely carried her... but she still picked up speed, barrelling at the figure of the Queen.

Lyra had no doubts about the outcome.

Bon... I know this isn't making anypony happier... but I couldn't look in a mirror if I didn't try to save you. I wouldn't want to live on my own. 

She yanked on her head and the blade snapped to her side, parallel to the ground and pointed straight at the Queen's nose.

I'm pretty selfish, aren't I? Always wanting and wanting...

"Hooo. Already lunging at me again? You really must want to be a hero, haha!" Chrysalis giggled at the incoming musician. "Well, have it your way! En garde, mon petit héros!"





The pony below charged ahead, but the Queen of Changelings evaded the attack. It looked like an established pattern already; so predictable that Sloth simply snorted and began wondering just what she was doing on that rooftop. The battle underneath didn't promise much excitement. All the cards were on the table at this point. The rank-and-file changelings had completely given up, and were only around to watch the show.

It was up to Chrysalis to duke it out with Nix and her pony master.

From the perspective of Sloth, the whole scene was a baffling experience. She knew that Nix - or Snowy or whatever the windigo went by as of late - was the most suited for master-on-master battles. The effects of windigo's powers were debilitating; and carefully rationed, they didn't carry the risks of the more lethal servants. Amnesia was a tough bullet to bite, but still didn't compare to spontaneously ceasing to exist.

Of course, given the nature of Nix, she had likely  forgotten everything about that. Which was a shame, for she could have erased any semblance of Queen Chrysalis the moment they had come in sight of each other.

Raising her eyebrows, Sloth had to admit: she wouldn't have objected to a Master who couldn't remember possessing her.

That was the only downside of her servitude. Being a ghostly dragon had all sorts of perks otherwise! No longer did she need to worry about food. Neither about sleeping, which carried the added benefit of not needing a nest either. She didn't have to evade self-appointed heroes who disliked dragons nesting nearby. She didn't have to evade other dragons either. She didn't have to evade anyone, period. She didn't even need to care about anyone.

The whole world was unaware of her, and she was free to just ignore everyone in turn.

She had never dreamed of a more enjoyable life.

She could have considered it heaven, were it not for those pesky masters. And, of course, the one master which ruled them all... the Source. That troublesome hooded bastard who would come and visit her regularly, always with newer and newer requests.

Every three hundred years, give or take.

"Ehh, how troublesome. Could you just hurry up and make my master forget about me already?"

She was grumbling only to her own self, of course. There was no point in screaming instructions. Nix wouldn't believe her anyway; the most she could achieve is tipping her own master off. She couldn't just sit still and fiddle with the roof-tiles either, though.

Her trouble-free life was on the line, after all.





"If this is all you can do, then you are the lousiest hero to have ever graced my presence!" Chrysalis snickered as the blade slashed the air in front of her face. The strike had barely missed her; but that was solely because she had barely pulled back. She was clearly testing out the limits of her foe.

Lyra offered a growl as a retort and swiped the blade again. Despite what the plays and movies had made her believe, swords were not exempt from the rules of motion and momentum; stopping a swung sword was just as tiresome as swinging it in the first place. That, coincidentally, made rapid strikes really fatiguing.

Lyra instinctively knew she had already overworked her magic. The burning sensation from her horn had spread to the fore of her skull, joining the numb throbbing that Snowy's magic had caused. The physical fatigue didn't help, either; a break would have done her wonders. Nothing much, just a minute or so. A little time so she could clear hear head, give her trembling legs a little rest.

Only, there was no pause in a fight.

"So unimaginative-!" Chrysalis grinned as she saw the blade closing in on her again. She reared her head back, repeating the same daring dodge as the last time- 

Her eyes went blank and she stopped mid-move. The sword, already in motion, had struck her the next moment. It was only a scratch; the very tip of the blade had barely managed to scrape the Queen's forehead. Still, Chrysalis yanked her head away as if she had been rammed by a boulder, a jagged scream underscoring her pain.

Lyra jumped back hastily. The sword coasted along her; she had no use for the weapon, so she could let it run out of momentum naturally. Truth be told, she was so surprised about her success that she had no idea how to exploit it further.

Strange! Did I get lucky or something?

The Queen in front of her had collapsed to the ground, hooves clutched on her forehead. The wound was shallow, Lyra was sure of it; she had struck enough changelings to know the difference. Slamming a sharpened piece of metal into something produced resistance; she had to push the blade or else it became wedged in her foe. She hadn't felt anything this time, however. Whatever damage she had inflicted on the Queen was superficial at most.

Even so, she had no idea just how she could damage such a superior opponent-

Chrysalis went completely blank before I managed to hit... Snowy!

"Did ya'...?" Lyra carefully glanced to her side. She kept her voice down; there was no need to alarm the wailing Queen. She was glad enough to get this much of a breather already.

"I'm helping where I can!" Snowy winked back at her, the motioned at Chrysalis. "She's a little too good, however. There aren't many openings for me to exploit. I need to time my power right, or else I'm just wasting Master's memories."

Lyra shook her head, sending droplets of sweat flying everywhere. Then she chuckled dryly, her rapid panting breaking her question into small fragments.

"Yer'... hehe, yer'... yer' still worried 'bout... that?"

She wasn't sure if she wanted to scold or praise the windigo. On one hoof, it was pretty heart-warming that Snowy would be so worried for her. On the other hoof, corpses didn't reminisce. It didn't matter how much she could remember when she was about to die anyway. From that perspective, Snowy's concerns were simply making the situation worse.

"Of course I am!" Snowy turned to her master. She had also raised her voice; she was becoming agitated. "I can't just destroy what makes Master... well, Master! There is no point in fighting if Master is bound to lose either way!"

Lyra wanted to reach out and pat the windigo on the head. She chose not to, in the end; both because she was too tired to lift a hoof, and because Snowy was ethereal anyway. Even so, she was touched beyond words.

You're a pretty cool ice-demon. I wish... I wish you had gotten a better Master than me.

The only nice thing about that regret was that it wasn't going to bother her for much longer. She breathed in and pulled the sword to her side.

"Dun' worry 'bout me." She exhaled, squeezing the words out. "Jus' make sure this fight drags on."

Snowy wrinkled her eyebrows. She didn't say anything, but she did snort loudly enough.

"S'an order-" Lyra winked at the windigo. She wanted to sound reassuring -  that it was all right, that it was for the best - but a howl interrupted her, giving her just enough warning to dodge the enraged Chrysalis.





"LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME!" Chrysalis bellowed. She snapped her jaws closed, but was biting on empty air; Lyra had already sprang away, to the side.

Try as she might, the musician couldn't see what the Queen was so upset about. All she could see was a long scrape, about an inch above the Queen's eyebrows; but it was a pretty shallow wound, barely bleeding.

Guess she doesn't consider it a game once she's also hurting, Lyra smirked. It was bad sports, but she was enjoying how she had managed to break the Queen's facade of smugness. To think I'd like causing pain...!

Such weightless concerns no longer held her back, however. She pitched the sword and thrust it forward.

Even so, this is so much less than what you'll be taking from me!

Chrysalis realized the danger. She roared and used her own magic to parry. The Guard sword was coated in overlapping layers of green and amber, and the weapon began to wobble. It was still darting towards the Queen as it had built a considerable momentum already, but Lyra had difficulties keeping it on track. The Queen's magical aura was much stronger than hers, and she knew she wasn't going to land the hit unless a miracle happened. She was straining so badly that she could feel her skull splitting - but could tell that it was still not going to work out.

"Snowy!"

The windigo on her right didn't react to her order. Lyra hadn't expected to see much - Snowy's magic was more subtle than the flashy unicorn ones - but there was absolutely no change whatsoever.

"SNOWY!"

It was too late at that point. Chrysalis had managed to deflect the attack; just barely, though. The sword whizzed past her neck and scraped along her side, drawing a long, jagged line onto her skin. It didn't seem like a huge injury, but Chrysalis tumbled away again, hissing and snarling.

The magic opposing hers broken, Lyra yanked hard on the blade. The sword flung backwards and landed next to her; she was free to recover it in peace. She didn't pass up the chance to give her servant an admonishing look in the process either.

"I was trying!" Snowy winced and dimmed out. She sounded tired, as if she had just finished something that required effort on her part. "But no matter how many times I make her forget about the sword, she would just focus back onto it!"

She was... using her powers already, Lyra realized. I didn't see the difference because she was glowing all the time!

"You...!"

Snapping her head back to the Queen, Lyra's first reaction was to gulp. Chrysalis didn't break into another fit this time. She was sneering like a ferocious animal; her insect-like wings were spread wide, her green eyes bristling with hate.

That's a proper war face if ever I have seen one, Lyra made another dry gulp. She thought that Chrysalis had looked threatening before - but in truth, she hadn't seen nothing yet.

"I barely had any effect on her!" Snowy narrowed her eyes and clenched her teeth.

"Then dig deeper! Not just the blade! Make her forget about me, about the battle, about-" Lyra barked hastily, only stopping when a solid green beam zipped past her nose, cutting a few loose strands of her mane.

Huh?

She stepped to the side, but even she understood how the belated move didn't matter whatsoever. The beam had long dissipated by the time she could will her legs to move. 

Had that hit me...

A shiver ran down her spine, and she brought the sword in front of her. She had never seen a magic like that, but she was fairly certain what the beam was for.

"Do not worry - I am not aiming to kill." Chrysalis grinned. She was back to her composed self, but an extra layer of enmity tampered her image this time around. "It has been long since somepony faced me head-on. I look forward to learning about how you came to be this reckless... BY TASTING IT MYSELF!"

The Queen lunged forward. She was moving fast, very fast; so fast that her legs couldn't keep up with the pace. The four limbs were dangling uselessly, only moving when Chrysalis had to raise them to avoid an obstacle.

She's not walking at all! Lyra realized. She was already moving to counter the attack, but her movements felt sluggish in comparison. She's skimming, just barely over the ground! She's so fast because she's using her wings to fly!

In hindsight, it seemed like such a simple trick. Such a low one, too.

"You damn cheater-!" Lyra cried out. Chrysalis had circled around her and was almost right on top of her; so she turned back and flung the sword in the Queen's direction.

She can't attack me if I make her dodge!

That would have been a fairly reasonable attempt, were she not facing Chrysalis. The Queen of Changelings didn't feel like wasting any more time on the bothersome pony; her horn erupted with a green flash-

The vivid green light made Lyra flinch. Her eyes watered and she couldn't see anything; she only noticed that the sword became a lot lighter all of a sudden. There was no time to waste on pondering, however. She flung the sword and slashed with it - but something was definitely off. It was way too easy to move the weapon. Through the tears and the afterimages, Lyra squinted at her trusty blade... and her heart missed a full beat.

She was only holding onto the lower half of the weapon. The whole upper portion had gone missing, seared off by some mysterious force; a force that had left the remnant of the blade smouldering, glowing green.

A rather unnatural colour for hot metal, as Lyra thought about it.

It was that magic beam again!

There was no time to deliberate on the matter. Chrysalis was towering above her and she had to make do with what she had. She pushed the broken weapon towards the Queen - and was swatted away by an invisible force. Her first thought was that she had been hit by a hoof; but this power didn't simply push her away. It stayed with her, clung around her, held her in a vice. She only noticed when it became harder to breathe, her sides squeezed by the unseen force. She tried to move, to shake it off; but her legs were similarly locked in place. She could feel her muscles straining, but that was the only result she could achieve.

Then she noticed the green shimmering layered over her vision.

It's her magic! Lyra's eyes widened in shock. She hadn't expected something like ordinary unicorn magic to be used in such ways. The academic value of the discovery eluded her, however; the foreboding knowledge only added further urgency to her panicking, frantic attempts at breaking free.

Her struggles were of little use. She was floating higher and higher, rising above the eye level of Chrysalis. The Queen of Changelings was playing around with her as if she were a doll; she was being made turn to one side and then to the other, slowly, meticulously.

Lyra couldn't as much as squeak in protest. She couldn't move her mouth either. Maybe it was for the better - she would have been screaming and snivelling were she allowed to speak. She was already tearing up, fully aware of what was going to happen.

She was being measured up before the meal.

It was one of the more disturbing sensations she had ever had. The world bobbed to the left, to the right... and she had no control over it. She tried to keep her gaze on point, but the rotations were too wide; she only made her stomach turn even wilder.

It wasn't before long that she became tired of the pre-meal inspection. Tears were flowing from her eyes; she was openly crying. She didn't care about holding up the invasion any more. Then she was yanked around again, and she saw the curious stare of Chrysalis during the turn. She gurgled; the closest she could come to screaming for her life.

Not this way...

"Let Master go!" Snowy hopped to Chrysalis' side. "AT ONCE!"

Squinting at the windigo from the corner of her eye, Lyra's heart sunk even more.

N-no! Get away from here! This thing, this Chrysalis... she's dangerous! Leave me alone already, damn it!

"Oh, right... you have a servant." Chrysalis mused aloud. She rubbed her chin with a hoof; then, still holding Lyra in her grasp, she had the hapless musician turn and face her. "I suppose I was going to devour you, right? How interesting... I wonder why I had spent the last few minutes wondering what... ugh. You! What was I going to do with you? Oh well. I do have you in my grasp... so I guess I am going to just dev- ugh. Wait, who are you again?"

Sniffling silently, Lyra tried to work Snowy back into her gaze. All in vain; she couldn't turn her eyes quite that far. She gave up after a few tries, and sighed with her eyes closed. It was really disheartening. She had hoped to pay that steadfast servant a final glance, to let her know of her appreciation.

You never do know when to give up.

"Waiiit a minute."

Lyra cracked an eye open. She was still facing Chrysalis - but the Queen had undergone some transformation. The confusion was gone and she was clearly pondering on something, evident by the furrowed forehead and the focused glare.

"I have been holding you for quite a long while already. Normally I would have stripped you of all your precious emotions long ago," Chrysalis thought out loud, giving Lyra a brief glimpse in the middle of the monologue. "But I still have not. Which makes me think..."

The horn of Chrysalis grew even more intense, and Lyra cringed in anticipation. She could almost feel her soul being ripped from her mortal coil-

-only none of that happened.

It was Snowy crying out in pain instead, and Lyra gawked in utter horror.

WHAT?!

She found her strength returning, but it was still no good. She tried to turn around, to look at the windigo; but she was still locked, staring at that oversized changeling. Who was, at that point, laughing and greatly enjoying herself in general.

"I knew it! That ghost was your servant!" Chrysalis cackled and licked her lips. "She was preventing me from devouring you, wasn't she? Well, too bad! Did you know that servants are immune to each other - but not to my own powers? Bwhahaha!"

No- no, no, no, no! Lyra screamed internally. She was struggling about as madly as she could, but there was no escape. The thought that she would die to a changeling was already bad enough - but the thought that she would first be made to witness Snowy being murdered-

Frothing from the mouth in exertion, Lyra felt her mind going at the prospect. The sounds of a screaming windigo wasn't helping her mental health one bit.

"All I need to do is finish her first... and once she lacks the will to move, I can proceed onto you." Chrysalis explained the outline of her meal. She also demonstrated an acute understanding of her meal's feelings, for she turned Lyra around, giving the pony a good view of the thrashing Snowy.

The windigo didn't seem aware of what was happening to her - though even if she had, she couldn't have done anything about it. Whatever power was keeping a servant going, she was running low on it; her movements had grown sluggish and slow, her outlines so faded she was barely more than a trick of light.

Lyra froze up at the sight. She didn't just quit struggling - she completely seized up. She understood what she was seeing, but she was unable to actually comprehend it.

Snowy, who had always followed her just to do her bidding, who had obeyed all her whims without fail, who was supposed to be freed by her... was being destroyed because she wanted to play the hero for one last time.

There was no way that could have been happening.

This... this wasn't supposed to turn out this way.

She couldn't look away; she could only close her eyes. She had expected herself to cry, just like she had moments ago; but she had no more tears to shed. She was feeling empty. Empty and upset.

All you did was serve me... you never meant harm. So why... why you, of everypony!

"You really should look." Chrysalis chuckled from behind. "You were her master, were you not? She was your responsibility. Well, not for long any more... but I would really prefer that you get worked up over her demise. It would make you taste so much richer. A rather rare flavour, as you may guess!"

Lyra squeezed her eyes. Her whole body flexed; that was too much. Snowy wasn't just her responsibility. They were friends. Good friends, too. Recent friends maybe, but good ones nevertheless. And Lyra didn't have that many friends. To have one of them murdered by something so shamelessly evil...

Struggling against the magic that held her in place, Lyra wished she could give up everything just to break free of her predicament. That moment, she would have sold her soul to the devil had the red-skinned old coot appeared in front of her.

She couldn't break free just by sheer force of will, of course. She was struggling so mightily that she could feel her limbs running cold; even her heartbeat faded into the background noise.

"Oooh, something is happening." Chrysalis giggled and shook her distraught captive. "Look! The ghost is disappearing! Does that not make you feel anguished, master... oh sorry, ex-master!"

Fearing what she may see, Lyra only opened her eyes to a thin slit. She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, though. Everything was as she could recall it. The bodies on the floor, the changelings surrounding her, the buildings of Ponyville, the podium-

It took Lyra a moment to realize that it wasn't about what she could see. The issue was with what had gone missing.

She couldn't see Snowy anywhere.

She would have gasped, were she able to open her mouth. Instead her face twisted into a terrified grimace; one that mimicked the icy slab her heart had become. 

The very blood was freezing in her veins. She didn't feel alarmed by the sensation though. Not at all.

It was quite all right, feeling like that. What else was she supposed to feel, when she had just witnessed something irredeemable happen?

"I'm truly sorry, Master..."

Lyra had no idea where the voice came from, but there was no mistaking it; she had heard the windigo apologizing.

"Hoo, and poof she goes. Was that all? That was barely anything! How strange, I thought she would have been more appetizing." Chrysalis sighed with utmost dejection. "Oh well, what more could I expect out of a good-for-nothing, useless ghost, huh?"

Enough!

Her efforts bearing fruit just after it no longer mattered, Lyra felt the magic holding her fail. She was struggling, and she could move; though all she could do was twist her head. That was all right, though. Turning to that murderous Queen was the most important thing she could do.

"Shhh... shh... shht... shut up!"

Chrysalis gave a surprised look. Her mouth fell and was left hanging; the normally boastful Queen now held silent.

There must had been a reason to that, but Lyra didn't care. She closed her eyes and waved her head back and forth. She was struggling, she obviously was; she couldn't possibly come to terms with what she had seen.

"Snowy... what have I done... what have I... oh my, what have I... ugh!"

She lifted her hooves and held them to her head. No matter how firmly she pressed them however, the thoughts inside didn't want to calm. All Lyra knew was that she had lost somepony important to her; and that left her feeling cold. Incredibly cold.

"How did you break- a ghost-?! Wha... what happened to you?"

It took Lyra a few seconds to realize whose voice had disturbed her. Then she popped her eyes open and looked at the source, too; she found herself staring at the contemptuous Queen.

The one who had taken something important from her.

She had no idea how, but she had broken completely free of her magical confines. She was a prisoner in one moment; but was barrelling at the dumbstruck Chrysalis in the next.

There was only one thought on her mind. She was getting her revenge.
> 29 - Shattered souls
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"WHAT!"

The Source lunged forward, so quickly that the shapeshifted game master almost fell out the window. There was enough time for the pony to grab the window ledge, but the stop was still harsh; the straps of the bothersome Guard helmet gave up and the headgear fell off. It clanged loudly against the top of the window-frame, then entered a steep dive towards the cobblestone street below.

The loss didn't register with the Source. The omnipotent game master was completely awestruck, even forgetting to blink. What the red-violet eyes saw was so outlandish that for a passing moment, the Source doubted its own eyes.

Down below, Lyra was screaming. More importantly, she was turning translucent and had retained only the rough outline of a pony; she looked as if she was the unholy offspring of an ice-ghost and a unicorn.

Witnessing the whole transformation, the Source found itself at a lack of words.

"Don't tell me... that you could actually..!"





Released from the confines of a magical cage, Lyra found every step liberating but she couldn't truly enjoy her newfound freedom. She couldn't find a single positive thought in her mind.

All she could see was the Queen of Changelings. The one who had murdered her most precious servant... the single biggest disaster among the many lives lost that day.   

"YOU!"

Her voice had transformed, so much that she barely recognized herself. It wasn't wholly surprising; Lyra had heard of that phenomenon before. Extreme emotions could do funny things to tone and speech.

Truth be told, she was feeling quite extreme in that moment.

"THE LIKES OF YOU!"

She wasn't sure why she was screaming, but that didn't prevent her from doing so. She had discarded logic and reason - a singular desire was guiding her, and she didn't want anything getting in her way.

The ground was closing in on her, and she braced for the violent impact; she was going way too fast, faster than she had ever been. Slowing down didn't occur to her. Spraining a leg would have been bad, but it was ultimately an acceptable price. She was willing to hop on three.

She was willing to do anything that got her closer to that murderous Queen.

She caught a lucky break somehow, a definite first for her rotten day. She touched down, gracefully and silently - and most importantly, without losing momentum. All for the better; she could correct her heading and spring back into the air without delay. She didn't need to coil up; the speed was already there. She pushed against the ground and leaped, headed on a direct course for Chrysalis.

She wasn't sure what she would do once she was close to the Queen, but she wasn't thinking that far ahead anyway. She would do something, that was for sure. The exact details didn't matter. Only the outcome did.

Revenge...

It was a desire unlike her; Lyra knew that. There was nothing left of what had made her herself, however. She had lost her talent. Her attempts at being a hero turned her into a veritable monster. Her home was being laid to ruin, and she had given up on ever seeing Bon just so her friend could escape. And then, to stamp out what little good she had left in her life, she saw her unconditionally loyal windigo executed, right in front of her.

I know this is wrong. I shouldn't revel in this. But... but what else am I supposed to feel?!

Vengeance felt so near. It was such a simple concept, too; she was hurt, so she would repay the pain. It didn't need to be any more complicated than that.

Besides, who knew? Perhaps the fires of revenge would fill the void in her soul. Thaw it out, cast the bitter cold away.

"What- what are you?!" Chrysalis shrieked. The Queen was no longer playing games; she looked alarmed and on the edge. She dodged to the side, tried to put some distance between herself and Lyra.

Lacking wings, Lyra couldn't change her direction mid-flight; so when Chrysalis moved out of the way, she had no choice but to wait 'patiently' until she landed. It was a decidedly strange sensation, having to wait until her hooves touched the ground again. She had never jumped that far before.

She landed without any fuss. It was as if the ground became wobbly; the normally hard soil didn't threaten to crack or twist her legs, but accommodated her hooves snugly. She had overshot her target; Chrysalis was behind her. Lyra spun her head around, furiously searching. It didn't completely register in her mind, but the world surrounding her was losing colour; everything was fading to black. Everything except Chrysalis, the changelings and the limp pony bodies around.

Everything emitting heat.

It was a blessing Lyra could easily get used to. With such easily readable highlights, it took her less than a second to reorient herself. She kicked hard and was back in the air, the image of a rattled Queen filling her sight.

I will make you suffer for everything you made me go through!

"Stay away from me! You- you monster!" Chrysalis barked. She slammed her hooves down and braced; she must have realized that there was no point in running away.

Lyra saw the Queen's jagged horn glow white-hot. She figured that Chrysalis was preparing for a beam-attack, and found herself in an interesting conundrum. She could try to avoid the beam; but then she would need to break pursuit, giving Chrysalis that bit more time alive. On the other hoof, she could simply ignore the threat and push onward. It was a murder-suicide if she ever saw one. She would willingly take a lethal blow to deliver another.

Her ears snapping snugly to her neck and her lips parting in a mad grin, Lyra chose the latter.

Fine! Then let's end this now!

The green beam erupted, connecting the two figures for a brief moment. Lyra braced for the searing pain; after what had happened to her sword, she was expecting to lose a leg or two.

Her grim expectations were proven wrong, however. Nothing happened.

The beam dissipated before long - and she was still whole, still closing in on her foe.

Did she miss? At this range?

Of all the possible outcomes, Lyra found this to be the most unlikely one. And, judging by her expression, so did Chrysalis. The Queen's eyes were wide but her pupils had shrunk to tiny dots. Her mouth was open, but no sound came out; she was either too dumbstruck or too terrified to speak. She was wasting precious time either way, gawking like that.

In stark contrast, Lyra had perfect focus.

She bared her fangs, but the jump was too short. No matter; she sunk a hoof deep into the soil and then pushed herself forward. This was the final lunge; she was so close that it was impossible for her to miss. She held the other hoof in front of her and braced for impact. Her pony instincts shouted at her to close her eyes, turn her head away; but the flighty instincts were contested by another, more powerful voice.

One that demanded that she keep her eyes on her prey all the while.

Lyra had no idea where the latter thoughts originated from. She had never heard them before; she had never thought like a predator. But that voice, that cold, calculating voice... it was hungry. It longed for something Chrysalis had.

It longed to devour the Queen - and, in doing so, it also promised to satisfy Lyra's thirst for vengeance.

Hardly a difficult decision.

She parted her teeth and broke into a chilling roar. The voice which left her mouth wasn't really hers, but she wasn't disturbed at all. It was a predator howling, yes; but to that voice inside Lyra’s head, that roar was really familiar.

"Changelings! HEL- UGH!"

Chrysalis missed too many beats, an unforgivable sin in combat. Her command came too late; Lyra crashed into her before she could finish the last word. Lyra's momentum was too great and Chrysalis tripped, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

The world spun around Lyra, but she wasn't dazed in the least. She was simply overjoyed. Even though she was rolling, she was holding the prey in her grasp. All she needed to do is sink her fangs into Chrysalis, and-

-and-

-what am I doing?

She had to pause; she was confused. She had all those sharp teeth. What was their purpose if not biting? How could she strip that foolish mortal from all that precious heat, if not with those teeth?

That felt so clear. So why did she have the idea that all those thoughts were fundamentally wrong?

"HELP!"

The shriek broke into Lyra's thoughts, pulled her into the outside world. She found herself standing; but on Chrysalis instead of the ground. The mighty Queen of the Changelings was lying sprawled out under her hooves; trembling, yanking her head from one side to the other, screaming at her underlings.

"I AM ORDERING YOU IMBECILES! COME TO MY AID - AT ONCE!"

The underlings in question were, however, backing away instead of obeying. Each with the same aghast look, most of them silently shaking their heads.

Lyra was profoundly confused by the sight. So she had managed to overpower Chrysalis - that was one thing. But what had made the changelings freeze up like that? Were they afraid of her, all of a sudden?

The mere idea made her snicker. Such a ridiculous concept! There was no way the bugs were afraid of her alone. She could never defeat all of them. She was still just one lone pony.

Yet, all the black bug-eyes were staring at her in what looked like complete awe.

That bothered Lyra. It bothered her almost as much as her desire to sink her fangs into Chrysalis... to feed until she was satiated. Until her vengeance was done. Until she was warm and the Queen was not.

Vengeance...

"You damned monster!" Chrysalis rattled, twitching with all her might. She had realized that she wasn't getting any help; so she began fighting for her life in earnest. She tried to free herself, but Lyra was too strong. She would sooner break her own legs than wriggle free.

But Lyra didn't even feel like she was doing anything. She was simply keeping the bug-queen pinned. She was mesmerized by the sight; the image of that monster rendered helpless was more placating than she would have guessed. She could watch it all day. Make that Queen squirm and beg for her life, the same way she had made so many ponies before. Give her a full taste of her own medicine. And then...

And then devour her.

Suddenly, Chrysalis roared and fired off a blast of magic. At point blank range, the green beam couldn't possibly miss; and, indeed, it struck Lyra square in her jaw.

Lyra didn't even flinch. The searing hot beam passed through her harmlessly, so she was free to ignore it. She leaned over Chrysalis and grinned madly. Saliva dripped from her fangs; she had ran out of patience.

She was taking her rightful prize. She parted her jaws and-

- and saw something red reflect in the eyes of the terrified Queen. Leaning so close to the alicorn, Lyra couldn't help but catch a glimpse of it. Everything was black and white around her, after all. That red glitter... it stuck out like a sore thumb. Huffing and with barely anything holding her back, Lyra raised her gaze to take a better look. She was hungry, but also curious; the predator hadn't suppressed the pony just yet.

Much to her surprise, Lyra found her own image reflecting in the Queen's watering eyes.

It wasn't really the face she had gotten used to, however. Owing to her new vision, she couldn't see well, but she got one detail down for sure - the eyes. Her formerly amber eyes were now burning with crimson flames.

She saw a feral monster in that reflection.

A true windigo.

Lyra reared back by instinct. She wasn't expecting that. She was only-

She was only standing on a defeated Chrysalis, fully prepared to sap the alicorn of her warmth.

She yanked her hooves off of Chrysalis and used them to squeeze her own head instead. She could hear the voice again, demanding that she finish the battle; but this time, she could easily tell that it wasn't her voice . That wasn't a pony talking. That was a vicious predator. A vicious predator who certainly didn't like being restrained.

Lyra could feel her jaws parting, clouds of mist forming as her frozen breath mixed with the warm air. A pained, beastly howl burst forth of her mouth. 

What-! Nnn-no! I'm not- I'm not like this!

It turned out to be one polite beast, the one sitting inside her head.

It sensed Lyra's displeasure and allowed her to take back control. She couldn't consciously tell how, but she could feel the invading entity retreating from her mind. The change was rapid, almost instant. The world around her returned to its old, colourful self. She could feel the warmth returning to her icy limbs...

A black hoof popped up in her vision and smacked her in the nose, sending her tumbling backwards.





Despite the lack of wings on its chosen form, the Source was practically flying down the stairs, taking them by three at each step.

There's no doubt about it! That was transfiguration, just now!

The stairs ended and the Source felt its belly crash against the floor; the Guard officer's legs didn't stand a chance against the crazy momentum it had built up racing down. The armour creaked and a few items scattered on the floor - some coins, a badge - but the game master ignored them and raced on, towards the door.

Astounding! To think you'd manage pulling such a high level ability without any experience of the intermediate ones...

The door to the street was closed. The Source couldn't be bothered to waste time on opening it however, so it simply had the Guard officer close its eyes and brace for impact. That barrier was no issue. A thin panel of wood stood no chance stop a fully armoured, charging pony.

Indeed, the door burst into a cloud of expanding splinters on contact. The Source winced; that sort of dynamic exit didn't come free. Had that officer been a real pony, he would likely had suffered some degree of concussion at least.

Luckily, that was only a magically conjured body.

Finally in the open street, the Source banked hard to the left and raced on. It had to reach the plaza before the changelings could do something stupid - or before the real Guard showed up.

Lyra Heartstrings... it is now imperative that I dye you into my colours.





Lyra landed on her side, her legs hitting the ground shortly after her torso did. It hurt, that kind of rough handling; she could feel her ribs shifting around. She had no time to waste, though. She sprang back onto her hooves and then took a moment to carefully stabilize herself. She was wobbling like a shaky leaf in the autumn wind.

Whoa. Wasn't this a lot easier a few moments ago?

A warm sensation flooded her nose, coupled with a dull, throbbing pain. Grimacing, Lyra gave a wry grin; after being so cold for so long, anything above freezing point was to her liking. The more warmth the better, actually. Then she felt something drip from her nose and tasted copper when she stuck her tongue out.

Ugh... guess my nose is broken.

"Master!"

Completely forgetting about her nose, Lyra tore her head to the side. She moved so fast that she lost her balance and stumbled; but not even that could tear her gaze from the windigo at her side.

"Sno... wy?"

She wasn't sure if she could believe her eyes. She was at a complete loss regarding the last few minutes of her life already. Coupled with the reappearance of the windigo, she was growing wary that she may have just lost her mind.

"My most sincere apologies, Master!" Snowy rushed to her side and crouched down. She was faint and barely visible, but she was definitely there. "I... I have no idea what just happened. I think I've lost control, somehow. Is Master hurt?"

Am I... hurt?

Lyra couldn't take that question any seriously. Her own well-being was the least of her concerns. She reached out to the windigo and tried to pat the familiar face, but her hoof passed through the ghostly body.

"I'm all right," she giggled, trying hard to keep her tears back. "I'm pretty-"

"ENOUGH!"

That was some fearsome cry. It was so loud that it barely fit into the plaza; it resounded between the clouds and the ground, threatening to push them apart. Lyra and Snowy both turned to its source, their combined gazes settling on Chrysalis.

The Queen was back on her hooves, and looked positively furious.

"Sitting down and chattering as if you were on a picnic... did you think you had me beat? ME?! Or are... or are you just toying with me? You really think I would let you get away with that? The nerve...!"

The Queen became the living avatar of anger. She was frothing as she spoke, the veins visibly bulging on the sides of her head.

Even though she was sitting a little distance away, Lyra couldn't help but shrink away. That outburst was pretty intimidating.

"AND YOU!" Queen Chrysalis turned around, to the nearest changelings. She moved slowly, her head lagging even more so. There was a fair deal of theatrics in the move for sure, but also a lot of barely controlled rage. "Just what were you thinking, huh?! I explicitly ordered you to help me! You will be paying for this... you will all be paying for this!"

The changelings uniformly shrunk a size and backed off. Lyra found that reaction amusing - as if a little extra distance could have lessened the edge of their Queen's words.

"Are we still going to stall for more time?" Snowy whispered and motioned at Chrysalis. "To be honest with Master, I have no idea how we've lasted even this far."

Lyra nodded. That was all too true. However...

"...do you think she'd simply let us walk away?" She shook her head with a sombre chuckle.

"Suppose not." Snowy hummed and followed her master as they stood up. "What now, then?"

"Your punishment shall wait! Right now, there's work to do. Your due sentences will only come after you useless lot get back onto the schedule! We have wasted too much time with this dusty village already!" Chrysalis shouted, working her enraged gaze through the crowd of quailing minions. "Spread out and grab every pony you can find! I will deal with these two. Why are you still standing around?! GET! MOVING!"

The blood ran out of Lyra's limbs as she heard that.

Oh no.

It was a decision made in the heat of the moment, but she saw only one way to stop the impending disaster.

She joined in the yelling.

"Don't follow her! You can't do that!"

Every changeling turned to her right away. Even Chrysalis turned back around, bewilderment mixing into her fury.

"Why not, exactly?"

The dumbstruck question came from no other than Snowy. The windigo was staring at Lyra and was blinking rapidly, her head crooked to the side.

Lyra tucked her ears to her neck and gave that extra doubter an angry leer.

Ah geez. I was so happy to see you just now! Could you just, like, not spoil the mood? Just once?

Despite being the rain on her parade, the question was pretty legitimate however. The only way to keep the changelings there was to give them a reason to not follow the orders of their Queen. Lyra had seen them disobey orders just now; so the bugs obviously had a semblance of intelligence of their own. As long as she could appeal to that...

How should I go about that, though? she mused hastily, biting her lip. I'm probably not 'food' to them any more, but the rest of Ponyville still is. They came here to eat in the first place! So, I guess... I should make this place unappetizing as well. Hmm.

Her mouth curled into a devious grin. She had an idea.

"Because if you do, then I am coming after you."

It was a preposterous proposition. A mere pony threatening an army of changelings! They would have had a good laugh before tearing her to shreds.

Ordinarily, that is.

This time, however, the changelings were staying put, only exchanging nervous glances among themselves. Lyra felt vindicated at the bugs' hesitation; it was nice to see her continued struggles bear fruit.

"What-! What are you all standing around for?!" Chrysalis boomed and spun around, her eyes throwing angry sparks. "Get going! I TOLD YOU TO GET GOING!"

Good, Lyra smirked darkly. She cleared the most immediate hurdle.

"Such a simple trick won't hold up for long though," Snowy leaned closer and whispered, taking the words straight from Lyra's mind. "We need something better."

Lyra nodded and hummed, the concentration drawing wrinkles onto her eyebrows. She was also thinking about just that.

How could I stop this massacre...

She couldn't make Chrysalis stop, that much was clear. The Queen was just too powerful, despite refusing to make use of her dragon-servant so far. There was no way to force her to do anything. But on her own, Chrysalis was just another ruffian. She couldn't cause massive havoc without anyone following her.

If only I could get the changelings to stop following her!

Lyra jolted. That's it! Her ears perked up, her eyebrows raising as high as they could go.

"Snowy! Make everyone forget who Queen Chrysalis is!"

It was a really simple plan. The Queen couldn't order her changelings around if she no longer was the Queen they had known, right?

"Everyone, Master?" Snowy cringed and hung her head low, her crimson gaze casting doubtful peek at Lyra. "In this case-"

Were she not surrounded by mortal foes, Lyra would have slapped herself on the forehead.

Haa... right. I can't oppose this monster if I can't remember what she had done. I'm still pretty reckless with my commands, aren't I?

"Everyone but me and you," she corrected herself.

"That's still an awful lot of minds to affect. It's going to be dangerous to Master," Snowy growled, completely unamused by the 'stricter' list of targets. "I beg Master to reconsider."

There was no time to reconsider anything though. The booming, angered voice of Chrysalis reminded them of that fact.

"Keh! Well, fine! If you are more afraid of her than of My Royal self... then I will show the lot of you just who is making the rules here!"

The Queen's words were followed by deeds. She blasted off and flew towards Lyra. Her wings beat with a buzzing sound, scattering the ground dust into large, uneven clouds.

"SNOWY!" Lyra cried out. She needed that mind-wipe, and she needed it now. Before the changelings realized that she was at the end of the rope.

Chrysalis was closing in fast. Lyra began running diagonally, trying to make the Queen miss her; but the difference in speed was just too great. Chrysalis could easily compensate, as she was still speeding; Lyra, on the other hoof, was back to her sluggish self.

Gnn... why am so slow? I was so fast a moment ago!

Still, the Queen was charging in rather recklessly. That was something Lyra could use to her advantage. She may had been a weak little pony, but she wasn't offering her hide cheap. She coiled up and jumped. This made her even more defenceless; she couldn't change her direction while in flight. That was all right, though; it was a calculated risk. She was sure that Chrysalis would take the bait. All she would need to do is grab some debris from the ground and swat the Queen bug at the right moment.

A whack on the head wasn't going to defeat Chrysalis by any means, but it would give her some breathing room. Hopefully. It was an admittedly wishful plan, but it was still better than standing her ground, blindly hoping for a miracle.

Darting her amber eyes back, she saw the huge black alicorn catching up to her. Just as planned.

Good monster, Lyra hissed and clenched her teeth. Her horn flared with an amber aura, and a loose piece of wood sprang up from the ground. She twisted herself around, her legs dangling helplessly at the snarling Queen; but the piece of wood also moved, following her gaze.

Right, eat this and-

Pain struck the middle of her skull. It wasn't an ordinary migraine; it didn't stop at her head. It spread out instead, rippling through every inch of her body. An army of green dots marched into her vision, then her sight cut out completely; all followed by a dull sensation as her left shoulder rammed into something pretty solid, bruising the skin and scraping her hide.





Lyra came to. Her first thought was to blink; then she winced. She had made a pretty poor landing, that was for sure. She was lying flat on her side; her tongue was in the dirt and her shoulder was burning with pain. It was her head that had fared the worst, though. The splitting headache didn't want let up; it ebbed and flowed, leaving Lyra almost half-blind when a worse wave struck.

Ugh... did I mess up? Did the bug Queen get me?

She glanced down, cautiously. She was afraid of what might greet her; she wouldn't have known what to do if she saw a set of sharp teeth descending on her. Then she sighed, her tone full of relief. She was in the clear... relatively speaking.

Chrysalis lay not far from her. The Queen wasn't looking ready to attack anypony though; she was lying on the ground, moaning in a low tone. A defeated monster, if Lyra had ever seen one.

As for the ordinary changelings, they were still forming a circle around Lyra; but they no longer seemed to know just why they were milling around. Their uniform line had started to break up, and they were chattering amongst themselves. They were more of a lost crowd than an organized task force.

The sight managed to draw a wry grin onto Lyra's face.

Success.

Not a complete success, though. Not at that point. There was no telling how Chrysalis had fared. If the Queen could reorganize the raid before the Guard showed up...

I can't let that happen.

Squeezing one eye and gritting her teeth in pain, Lyra pushed herself upright. It was difficult to stand, and doubly so to walk; the numbing pain in her head messed up her sense of balance.

Ugh. I need a... a... what do they call that pill the docs give for headache? The white one.

Despite the complications, she prowled towards the limp Queen. It wasn't a victorious march. She was stumbling left and right; her steps were shallow and her hooves kept getting stuck into every sort of obstacle. Unconscious ponies, beat-up changelings, debris from the earlier melee... all sorts of things she could barely step over and absolutely didn't want to step on.

It was a sobering walk. She hadn't been feeling particularly victorious in the first place, but the fallout of the battle still managed to dishearten her. That wasn't what the heroic plays and movies had shown her about making a stand. Though frankly, she couldn't see how any play could give the sight of scattered bodies any justice.

"Master?"

Lyra carefully placed her hoof between the still legs of a unicorn, then looked to her side. Snowy was approaching her, wading through all the rubble without the slightest care.

"Is Master all right?"

Lyra drooped her mouth and carried her gaze around silently. She didn't say, but her thoughts were clear enough.

Look at this mess. Look at what I've been through. How could I be all right?

She drew a deep breath and humoured her trusted servant with a lie nevertheless. 

"I'll live. You?"

"Nothing that'd render me useless," Snowy grinned.

Lyra hummed and nodded, then carried on with her slow walk.





The plank felt too light to cause any damage, and looked way too fragile to defend with. It was readily available, though. Lyra didn't feel like shuffling bodies around to look for any wayward weapons. So, armed with the flimsy plank, she made the final few steps to the ailing Queen.

Chrysalis didn't pay heed to her arrival. The dark grey alicorn was laying on the ground, curled up and snivelling.

"It's over." Lyra declared. She reached back to her acting lessons; in order to keep her grasp on the situation, she had to appear calm and composed. 

It was strange, though. She couldn't remember just when she had picked up acting.

Focus, she chided herself. Now was not the time to reminiscence on her life.

"Over...?"

Chrysalis stirred awake. She didn't get up; she simply raised her head and turned to Lyra, her green eyes full of confusion.

"What... what's happening? Who are... you? Ah, wait. Before that... Who... who am I?"

Lyra tightened her grasp on the plank. She smelled a trap; she wasn't buying any of that helpless act. Queen Chrysalis was a monster, and monsters never cried. 

That's right, Lyra steeled her face and her nerves. Monsters like you can't have feelings. There's no way you could wreak so much havoc if you were capable of feeling anything.

She raised the plank high, and held it there, ready to strike. In the end, it didn't matter whether Chrysalis was acting or not. The changelings were the immediate concern. That horde had to be dispersed.

"CHANGELINGS!" Lyra boomed. "HEAR ME! HEED MY VOICE!"

The loud exclamation made Chrysalis cower in fear; she used her wings to cover her head. The rest of the changelings, already in disarray, yanked their heads up as one. They were all looking at Lyra; she who had defeated them earlier, and was now addressing them.

"THIS WAS THE LARGEST OF YOUR KIND!" Lyra pointed a hoof at Chrysalis. She was careful not to mention the Queen by name; she had no idea how thorough Snowy's powers were. They had never used the ability on such a grand scale before. That last thing she needed was for the changelings to start remembering. "AND NOW, EVEN SHE LAYS DEFEATED! SO SCRAM! ALL OF YOU! SCRAM... OR ELSE YOU SHALL FEEL MY WRATH!"

A murmur ran through the changelings' ranks. They didn't seem to scatter; but that was all right. Lyra wasn't expecting them to flee after the first threat. That was the reason she had brought the plank along, actually. It was for demonstration purposes.

She brought the slab down on Chrysalis. The former Queen groaned loudly. Twice, actually; first when the wood knocked her head down, and then when her head bounced back from the ground. Then for a third time, when the plank met her head sideways. For a light piece of wood, the plank proved pretty effective; the ex-queen could only wince as she fell over, laying helplessly on her side.

Watching the former monster whimper at her hooves, Lyra began to feel conflicted. It wasn't nice, beating down a helpless creature. It was pretty repulsive, if she were to be honest. Chrysalis looked absolutely pitiful; she wasn't even pleading for mercy. Only high-pitched whines left the oversized changeling's mouth, and her hooves were digging in the dirt as she tried to claw herself away.

On the other hoof, Lyra still remembered how the same Chrysalis would kill any number of ponies without breaking a sweat.

Besides, she wasn't tormenting the former Queen for her own amusement. Taking a little pause, Lyra sneaked a glance at the horde surrounding her. The changelings were wavering; a number of them had already begun to flee, but the majority of them were sticking around for some reason. Most probably because they were too dumbstruck to high-tail it just yet.

I guess I'm not convincing enough just yet, Lyra furrowed her forehead, and cracked down with the plank once more. Well, sure thing. Have it your way!

"Master..." Snowy sneaked into Lyra's view, positioning herself between her master and the bruised Chrysalis. "Is this necessary?" 

"It is, as long as I have this... audience." Lyra motioned at the scattering ranks of changelings. "The beatings will continue until the soul-devouring monsters are out of my town."

She rose the plank and placed another blow on Chrysalis. She couldn't see where she was hitting, thanks to Snowy being in the way; but she didn't need to be precise either. Anywhere was good as long as she didn't miss the bug-alicorn.

"Master, please! Enough!" Snowy moved further into the picture. The windigo was now sitting on their defeated enemy, fully in the way. "Master is better than this! Master wouldn't turn into a monster...!"

Already swinging the plank for the next strike, Lyra clenched her teeth and moved the strike higher. The plank whooshed, only cutting through empty air; then the slab retreated, floating back to Lyra's side.

"A... monster?"

Her memories were hazy, but Lyra remembered Chrysalis also calling her that. She had ignored it at that time, but the same word sounded completely different from her servant's mouth.

Why would you call me that?

"Snowy, what are you-"

Loud shouting interrupted her, closely followed by the sound of a thousand hooves thundering. Lyra yanked her head to the left and saw her wildest nightmare coming true: all the changelings to her left had begun moving. The whole wall was running straight at her.

She only had time to make a dumbstruck face. She also had the idea to pray - but she couldn't recall any prayers. Not beyond the first few words.

Holy Celestia-!

By some miracle, the changelings didn't stampede her. The bugs made a point of steering well out of her way; they weren't keen on getting beaten with a plank. Of course that raised another, more interesting question.

Why are they even coming this way, then?

Standing in the middle of the changeling-free bubble, Lyra was utterly puzzled by the bizarre behaviour. The changelings were coming at her, but were clearly in awe of her at the same time. She simply had to wave the plank at the bugs which wandered too close, and they promptly disappeared back into the stampede.

Then, after a half minute of continuous changeling-traffic, the situation became crystal clear. Lyra saw armoured ponies charging down the street; the Royal Guard. She was never happier to see soldiers - though she couldn't stop herself from cracking the overused joke.

"Pffft! You colts are late for the show."

She broke into a short laughter. She teared up, even; she could feel an incredible weight rolling off from her shoulders. She had managed to stave off the invasion... and lived to tell the tale.

Back at the beginning, she wouldn't have bet on that outcome.

"Hey!" She waved the plank at the first few Guards reaching her. "I've got something for y-"

The Guards weren't in the chatty mood. The first pony who had reached Lyra promptly tackled her. It wasn't a pleasant experience, having a fully armoured colt crushing her into the ground.

Wha-!

She wasn't sure what to make of the gesture. Had she not known better, she would have thought that the Guards mistook her for a changeling.

"What are you doing!" She groaned from beneath the armoured colt. "Let go of me, you dimwit! I've- ouch!- I've just done the job you were supposed to do!"

"Hoo, did you now?"

The voice was familiar but she had no time to ponder. The trooper got off her and yanked her back on her hooves. She was promptly joined by another Guard on the other side - and heard the click of shackles around her legs before she had a chance to object.

"Are you for real?!" Lyra snorted and reared her head back. She tried to kick, to break free; but she was too late. All she did was rattle her chains, right until a Guard knocked her in the ribs. The impact winded her; she hunched over and coughed.

This can't be happening!

"Resisting arrest is a punishable offence," the familiar voice continued.

Breathing hoarsely, Lyra peeked up - and felt her face going numb.

She was facing the very officer who had given her the sword. The colt's helmet was missing, but it was definitely him.

"But you... you saw me... you saw me fighting the changelings," Lyra wheezed. Thanks to the earlier assault, she couldn't breathe properly; so she couldn't talk properly either. That did little to quell her righteous anger, however. "We were... fighting them... together, even!"

"Oh, really? Hmm..." The Guard officer hummed, holding his armoured hoof to his chin. Then he shook his head and giggled lightly. "Nah, I don't think so. I certainly didn't fight these monsters. You can even ask my colleagues here - they met me en route. I was taking some R&R in a nearby house. You must be confusing me with somepony else, miss."

"Oh- ooh." Lyra exhaled, the dejection clear on her face and in her voice.

Say what you want, I'm sure it was you. She glanced up, scanning the armour of the officer; and before long, her gaze stumbled onto the empty scabbard. Dude, your sword's missing... where did it go if you weren't fighting?

"Anyway - ahem!" The officer cleared his throat and switched to a more formal tone. "You are being charged with aggravated assault. You have the right to remain silent; anything you say may be used against-"

"WAIT!"

Lyra screamed and lunged ahead - or rather, tried to. The chains around her legs did a good job of keeping her in place. The rest of the work was finished by the two troopers on her sides, both of them keeping her back with the shaft of their polearms.

"You can't be seriously charging me with assault!" Lyra cried out, then sneered at one of the Guards holding her back.

"Sure we can." The Guard officer squinted at her, then motioned his nose at the battered figure of Chrysalis. The former queen was in a pretty poor shape - and was actually being helped up by a trio of Guards.

The sight was so surreal that it made Lyra stop. She seriously wondered if she was delirious.

"Some of us saw you beating that pony with a plank," the officer turned back to Lyra, his red-violet gaze meeting hers. "Beating ponies up isn't a nice thing to do, miss - changeling attack or not."

"But- but she is Queen Chrysalis!" Lyra cried out. She couldn't comprehend how it was her who had been chained, when the real monster was being treated to first-aid. "She was the one leading the-"

"Queen Chrysalis?" The Guard officer raised his eyebrows high, curiosity written all over his face. "Who is that?" 

Lyra cocked her head to the side and stared at the officer with glassy eyes. She had an inkling of what was going on, and she liked none of it.

"Any of you know a Chrysalis?" the officer yelled to the other troopers.

The answers were unanimous.

None of them did. One pegasus even swore to his immortal soul that he had never heard of the name.

"I'm sorry, miss." The officer turned his attention back to Lyra. "It would appear we aren't familiar with this... feud of yours. But, a Queen you say! My, my. Were you assaulting a pony of such high standing? I advise you to keep silent until your lawyer arrives, miss. This could be a very serious offence."

Lyra nodded, curtly and numbly. She had it all figured out.

None of those Guards knew who Chrysalis was.

No-one could have, in fact.

No-one... apart from her own dumb self and Snowy.

"Lead her away," the officer commanded, and the troopers began pushing Lyra away. She didn't resist. She only stumbled once, when she managed to catch a glimpse of Chrysalis out of the corner of her eye.

Troopers were bandaging the monster, one going as far as consoling the whimpering ex-queen.





Sloth rose from the roof-tiles. She stretched her arms lazily, one by one; then flared her wings. She moved the unruly limbs in slow circles, careful that all the muscles got warmed up.

Not that she had any actual muscles to warm up. She was simply a creature of habit.

Then, once she was all ready to go, she sprang up from the roof. She glided for a while, and then her wings took over. Slow beats, but powerful ones. She was ascending and left the dusty village behind in no time.

She didn't look back; there was no reason to bother. She had trusted Nix, and the accursed windigo delivered. She saw her Master being reduced to a whimpering nopony, that was enough. Chrysalis no longer knew of her. She was free to enjoy the world. Perhaps seek a nice, bother-free nest to bide her time. 

She angled her wings and made a lazy spin around her torso. The sun was shining onto her back; while the rays of light passed through her ghostly body, she could recall the sensation well enough from her living years. She could recall them well enough to relive them too.

The warmth drew a half-hearted smile onto the dragon's face.

It was never her style anyway, kneeling to masters. It was good to be free.
> 30 - Perceived sins
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lyra did what?"

Bon grimaced and stared. She had a pretty hard time believing what she had heard; the chasm between the news and her expectations seemed impossible to bridge.

She mulled silently for a few seconds and decided that indeed, she couldn't believe anything of what the Guard officer had been telling her.

"It's just as I said, miss. Your friend attacked a survivor of the changeling attack," the officer reiterated. He looked shocked, very shocked; so shocked that he lost his ability to express emotions. He barely displayed anything, neither on his face nor in his voice; he was talking in a disturbingly flat monotone.

But these observations were secondary to the news that the colt had brought.

"So she's in jail now," Bon repeated absent-mindedly. Her voice was weak and hollow. She was used to Lyra pulling odd things at the most unexpected moments, but getting into trouble during a changeling invasion...

...what the heck has gotten into you, Lyra??!

"That is correct. Lyra Heartstrings is currently in custody at the local barracks." The Guard officer gave a curt nod. "The charge is assault, but that may change when we find out the identity of her victim."

Bon sighed and shook her head in resignation, pushing a hoof against her temple. It was supposed to have been such a simple day. Just a gig at a local festival; that was all that Lyra had to do.

She's like an unruly filly. Seriously, I leave her alone for a second and this happens!

"Right," she snorted loudly, her eyebrow twitching before she could suppress the unconscious reaction. "I know it's a bother, but could you escort me the that barracks, uh... Mr. Officer? I've got a pea-brained musician to talk to."

The Guard officer hummed and scratched his short mane. Unlike the other troopers, he didn't have a helmet on. Bon couldn't decide if that was a personal preference or if he had simply lost it in the battle. She veered towards the former. A helmet on that colt would have been such a waste. It would have been a sin to obscure those fancy, dual-coloured eyes.

It is not everyday that one sees eyes with such a combination of red and violet.

"In my opinion, hurrying won't help." The officer shook his head. "Your friend had already attacked another pony - without any provocation, as far as we can tell. It might be better to keep her isolated until we know more."

Bon scowled and tore her gaze from the officer. She stayed silent. Had she spoken, she would have surely regretted her words later on. She knew Lyra better than anypony else! She was sure that Lyra wouldn't attack anypony, period. However, there was no way she could expect an officer to understand that.

"So, did your friend behave oddly lately?" the officer began asked. The question must have been part of the routine, as there wasn't a single shred of curiosity in his voice. He spoke as slowly and dryly as before.

"No." Bon declared firmly and right away. "I mean - not any odder than before. Lyra was always a little... impulsive. But she's still all right. I can guarantee that."

"I see. No change in behaviour, then?" the officer wrinkled his eyebrows. "Didn't she act crazy? Talking to herself, maybe? Hallucinations?"

"You take that back, sir." Bon stomped loudly with her hoof, glaring at the officer. "Lyra isn't insane, all right? She's perfectly fine. She only had a skiing accident lately, but she got over it faster than... uh. 
Her voice faltered. She couldn't possibly admit, but the officer was spot-on. Lyra was talking to herself, and was seeing things ever since that skiing accident - only, those demonstrably weren't caused by some mental lapse. All of those eccentricities were the side-effects of a ghost with quite tangible powers. Turning things cold, messing with ponies' thoughts...

Bon's heart skipped as she realized how the two events connected.

"An... anyway... there were n... no problems. Nothing at all!" she stammered, cutting her answer as short as she could. She tried to hide it, but her lips were trembling; the confidence had completely vanished from her voice.

"I see. Well, even so - it would be best to delay your reunion until your friend is released." The officer nodded. It was quite abrupt, but he seemed to be done with his task. He turned around without so much as saying 'bye' and began walking away.

Bon didn't mind. She hastily retreated into the house and slammed the door shut; then collapsed right in the doorway, her back against the wooden door.

Lyra... you didn't get into trouble because of that ghost, right?

Sadly enough, she already knew that she was chasing a false hope. Messing with the ghost would have explained why Lyra hadn't been herself for the past few days. The musician was always so stressed or phased out, as if she had some monumental task weighing down on her.

She threw a few angry punches at the empty air. Her anger turned into anguish really fast though, and she was clutching her legs over her head before long. She had let her friend down and felt miserable about the fact. This despite the legitimate excuses she could have brought up in her defence. Like how the signs were only obvious in hindsight. Also, what if she had realized? What could have she done? That ghost, that magic; all that stuff was way over her head. She was a simple earth pony, for Celestia's sake! Earth ponies were never any good with magic.

All perfectly valid and logical reasons. Too bad they had only served to fuel the helplessness Bon felt.

She raised a hoof and slammed it into the wall, bitterness twisting her face.

Lyra! You stupid, stupid, stupid idiot! Why couldn't you listen to me?! I told you to not get involved in this kind of thing!

Brooding silently at the base of the door, Bon decided to heed the officer's advice. There was no point in her meeting Lyra, not in her current state. She had to calm down, collect her thoughts. Screaming and freaking out wouldn't solve anything.

Good thing I'm alone at home, she thought and buried her face into her hooves.





"Well... being the hero still doesn't work for us," Snowy sighed.

Flat on her back and lying on the bunk, Lyra snorted with disdain. Part of her wanted to laugh at the joke, but the majority of her was still vetoing anything that wasn't depression.

She had been fighting for this shanty town a little while ago. She had risked her life, her everything just so those ungrateful ponies could have a better chance at escaping. No, not only that; she had signed her death warrant to give them a chance. Things looked pretty bleak when she had stayed on that plaza, facing a changeling army all on her own.

And then she had fought. She had suffered, in ways others couldn't even fathom. With the healing that accompanied Snowy's powers, she was in a pretty acceptable shape; even the dull headache had disappeared. However, she knew just how dearly that cheat had cost her. The damage hadn't disappeared - it simply took a different shape.

Trying to recall her life, Lyra sourly noted that mind had more holes than content. Her life became nothing more than disjointed images; brief flashes that she couldn't put anywhere.

That was the price she had paid. She had gutted herself to save this town.

And what did she get for it?

A five-by-five meter cell with a barred window and a hard mattress. That was the first part of her reward.

None of the Guard could remember who Chrysalis was. Not even the bug-like appearance of the Queen had managed to cue them in. They had all agreed that Lyra had been beating up an innocent survivor. They turned deaf ears to her protests. They even ignored how she had been the only pony holding the changelings at bay. There were no other survivors on the plaza after all; only she, Chrysalis and the changelings were left when the Guard had arrived. There was no-one to vouch for her. She had no wounds to show as proof of her battle, either; Snowy's powers had healed her almost completely.

Lyra snorted loudly and pulled her legs over her face.

I've had enough of this rotten world. How unfair can life get?!

"I must be like a tired record at this point, but... I'm sorry." Snowy sighed and sat down, right underneath the barred window. "I cheated Master from her victory. Master could have become the hero, had I not made everyone forget who the Queen was. "

Smiling dryly under the cover of her hooves, Lyra rolled her eyes. Hogwash! She was the one who had given the order; so the blame could only lay with her.

Though, when she really thought about it, she hadn't made that decision on a whim either. She simply had no other choices left. She was forced into that course of action, so as to save everypony in Ponyville.

The same bunch who threw her into jail afterwards.

I should have died in that battle.

Living was nice, no doubt. But she would have preferred perishing in the blissful belief that her sacrifice was for a noble goal. She would have been satisfied with becoming a hero, even if a tragic one at that. Lying belly-up on an old mattress and staring at the empty ceiling, she didn't have even that fancy delusions to comfort her any more.

She shuffled around and frowned. Of all her losses, perhaps losing that illusion hurt the most; to know that the ponies around her did not need a saviour.

Worse yet, Lyra couldn't find it in her to blame all those ponies either. She understood why they had acted the way they had. Every time she had tried to think with their heads, she came to the same conclusions they also had - which was incredibly frustrating. Maddening, even. It made her want to scream. She was angry, but she wasn't even sure who she should be angry at.

Hoofsteps echoed in the small room, sending her dark thoughts scattering. 

Lyra had already realized that she was the only guest staying in that part of the barracks. Perking her ears and lifting her legs from her face, she wondered just who would visit her this time - and why.

Would another investigator ask her about Chrysalis, only to completely disregard her answers anyway?
Would she be asked about the battle again, only to be told how a singular pony couldn't stave off twenty changelings, much less a thousand?
Would she be reminded that the maximal sentence for assault was thirty years behind bars - and then be offered a deal to confess for a more generous deal, say five years?

Something clanged on the other side of the door. Keys, most likely; in the smothering silence of her room, Lyra had quickly learnt how to tell the different sounds from each other. She rolled to her side and glared at the door. The mattress rattled under her; the filling was way past the due date for replacement, and it made sure that she felt that fact.

Then the lock clacked. It was loud and definite, the oiled gears turning with the precision of clockwork. The door swing inside, the steel object sweeping bits of debris and loose hay to the side...

Lyra jumped off her bed, gasping. Her emotions were between shock and anger, and she was seriously debating which one she wanted to listen to.

She was facing the very officer which had once helped and then condemned her.

The officer in question moved into the cell at a languid pace. He was clearly breaking all the protocols; Lyra had already noticed how all the other Guard officers came with large groups backing them up. This was the first time that a lone Guard approached her.

Does he want some privacy? 

The officer's head swivelled as he walked, pausing only once his dual-coloured eyes rested on Lyra proper. His face stayed a perfect mask all the while, offering no clues to his behaviour nor to his motives. Then he cleared his throat and stated something that Lyra had been frustratingly aware of.

"You're in trouble."





Of all the emotions racing across Lyra's mind, one stood out.

Disgust.

"You again," she frowned and sat down, slumping onto her rear.

"You sound displeased." The officer noted dryly, his head cocked to the side. "Interesting. I assumed you would show your one ally more gratitude."

Before she could say anything, a guttural chuckle left Lyra's mouth.

"Ally!" she echoed, her voice rippling with the after-effects of a suppressed laughter. "Some ally you are. I'm stuck in here because of you!"

The officer blinked lengthily, then lowered his head in a nod-like movement.

"That was a foregone conclusion. Standing over your prey like you did, nothing I could have said would have made a difference." He explained in his annoyingly calm tone, his eyes cracked open to a slit. "Just what did you expect me to say? Join you in the fall, admit it was me who armed you? That wouldn't have helped either of us. I would be sitting alongside you in the very best case. Arming civilians is no laughing matter - especially when they are caught breaking the law afterwards."

Lyra rolled her eyes at the answer. Such self-apologetic pandering.

"Yeah, because you gave that sword to me in complete secrecy!" she shook her head in disbelief. She didn't need to say anything more; her thoughts were already clear as day.

I really expected something better of you, numbskull.

"Oh, but it is a secret now. Me giving you that sword... at this point, only you and me are privy to that detail." The Guard officer walked to the small window of the cell, then stared out into the open. His pace, his tone, his nonchalant expression. Coupled with his words, they painted an image that Lyra found mildly disturbing. "I should be thankful to the changelings on this matter, I guess. They have been rather... thorough with the witnesses around the plaza."

Lyra reared her head back and drew a hasty breath. Her ears moved on their own and disappeared in her mane, hugging onto her neck tightly.

"You... you were counting on all those ponies biting the dust?!"

"Only as much as you are counting on a glass to break when you swipe it off the table." The officer furrowed his forehead and snapped to Lyra, his armour clanging loudly at the sudden movement. "I certainly didn't ask the changelings to devour anypony's soul. But, once they had arrived on the scene, the conclusion was inevitable. All I did was make the most of a sad scene! Surely you wouldn't hold that against me?"

Her head bobbing as she shifted back and forth, Lyra moved her amber pupils away from the colt.

Factually speaking, there was nothing wrong with his rationale. Weapons weren't welcome in Equestria. Even the Guard troopers wore them with a degree of reluctance; civilians were straight out of the question. Giving his sword to Lyra, despite saving her life, carried a lot of danger for the colt. Prosecution, demotion, nasty rumours...  not many would have braved those possibilities. 

But despite all that, Lyra couldn't bring herself to sympathise with him. Not because he had lied and got her thrown into jail; she couldn't fault him for saving his own hide.

It was the attitude that bugged her.

His calm, death-defying tone was very reassuring in the battle. However, keeping the same nonchalant tone became quite jarring afterwards. After witnessing all that pain, all that pointless savagery, Lyra was expecting him to show some shred of emotion. Twitching ears. A chuckle lurking behind his words. An odd, inexplicable smile in the corners of his mouth. Shaking of legs. Brooding. Something. Anything.

But that officer was apparently made out of stone. He showed absolutely no sign of being affected by the recent events; he was walking and talking the same way he had before and during the battle. He was factual and reasonable, almost to a fault.

Lyra's instincts couldn't cope with that sort of consistence. She couldn't help it; part of her was irritated by that behaviour.

Beware of that colt. He doesn't care about all the deaths that surrounded him. He's dangerous. That's what the internal voice told her, and she tended to agree.

"By the way - let's not forget that it was me who went back for you. Only me." The officer raised his left eyebrow and leaned against the wall. The armour creaked and screeched; its panels were not designed with leaning in mind, the rigid metal sheets were struggling to cope with his posture. "Not a single of those ponies thought to rush back and help their kin. Not even the Guards! All everypony did was scream and run away."

Lyra closed her eyes and flexed her jaws. Speaking ill of those ponies didn't sit well with her. They had abandoned her, yes. But they were resting on the cold ground now, drooling onto the soil with glassy eyes. They had already paid the penance for whatever wrongs they had done.

Even so, her disgust couldn't fully dismiss the notion. That officer was the only pony who had braved the changelings to reach her.

On the other hoof...

"You only came back to ask me to die." Lyra cracked her eyes open, a wry grimace on her face.

"Your chances were far from certain, I will admit that much." The officer nodded and leaned forward. His armour scraped along the wall, screeching and carving a deep line into the paint. "However, think of all the ponies you have saved. Had the changelings not been contained at the plaza, the toll could have been enormous."

Lyra turned her head to the floor and chuckled darkly. There was no need to remind her of that. The fact had been in the fore of her mind ever since she was put into that cell.

"Fat lot of good that did to me," she exhaled loudly. "Nopony believes me when I tell them my side of the story. To them, I'm just... I'm just a..."

Her voice trailed off; she lacked the will to finish that sentence. She knew what to say, but she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. She didn't want to say it, because she wanted to believe that she could be wrong. She wanted to hope that by not saying out loud, the fact would remain easier to change.

She wanted to hang onto that optimism, no matter how baseless it was.

"To them, you are just a savage. A monster, like the ones you fought." The officer nodded curtly.

Lyra jolted and shuddered, shaking her head with her eyes squeezed shut. That was the exact thing on her mind, too; and hearing it turned into actual words had made it even worse. It sounded like a fact, no longer a fleeting delusion.

"Is that all you came back for? Just to tell me that?" she muttered. She wanted to cry. Only, she knew she couldn't. Not because of the colt, though. It wasn't a matter of company.

She had felt like bawling quite a few times in the last hours. She knew the signs; hasty breathing, choking up, a lump swelling in her throat... but the tears wouldn't come. The rush came and passed her each time with nothing happening. She couldn't cry, no matter how badly she felt the need to.

"No. I came to tell you that you shouldn't be ashamed of yourself." The officer raised his head and peeked out between the bars of the window. "If anything, you have done quite well."

Lyra chuckled grimly first, firm in the belief that she had heard wrong. Then she snapped her head to attention, so fast that her mane was tearing her neck. The compliment didn't placate her; if anything, it was simply dousing oil onto the fire.

"THEN WHY AM LOCKED UP HERE?!" she screamed. "LIKE A CRIMINAL!"

Her words had a brilliant edge to them. Her throat was still fresh, so her voice was loud and crisp. Were she in a theatre, her performance would have garnered serious applause.

Too bad she was in a small cell, a ghost and a creepy officer her sole audience.

The officer returned his gaze to Lyra and nodded curtly, almost as if saying 'fair enough'. Then he broke out a dry smile and mumbled under his breath.

"Because this is hardly a perfect world, I suppose."





Lyra shuddered at the cold touch, though it wasn't really the cold that bothered her. It was understanding that the blunt end of the polearm had just poked her in the rear.

The Lyra from yesterday wouldn't have given much thought to that weapon; her current self was a whole different case, however. She could readily imagine what the other end of the polearm would do to her. It didn't even require too much mental gymnastics; she had seen many of the possible outcomes first-hoof.

"Hurry up, will ya'?" the trooper behind her growled.

Lyra gave the command a silent sneer. It was irritating, being yanked around by a soldier. For all she knew, that colt was one of the soldiers that had abandoned her earlier, only returning once she had defended Ponyville on her own.

There wasn't much she could do, though. Shortly after the creepy officer had left, ordinary troopers had burst into her cell. There were more than a dozen of them; so many that they barely fit in the small room.

Pacing inches ahead of the polearm, Lyra could still remember her surprise at the scene.

All these Guards, just for me? Do I really warrant this kind of security?

It could have been a misconception, but the whole scene struck her as cowardly. Angered and bitter, she almost challenged the Guards to a fair one-on-one. It was a close call; she played along with the troopers in the end, but the saner part of her had barely prevailed.

Though frankly speaking, her handlers didn't make that decision any easier.

She was kept in the dark. None of the Guards had told her where she was being taken to, nor why she was being relocated. She assumed it was just another of the pointless 'interviews', but remained wary about the ordeal. To think she would need to suffer such demeaning trials, right after she had saved the whole town by herself. And at the hooves of the Guard no less! The same cowards who were supposed to fight that battle themselves in the first place.

Lyra couldn't help but hear the words of the officer echo in her head.

This isn't a perfect world, I suppose...

She bit into her lip, a mighty frown forming on her face.

Well, didn't you hit that nail square on the head!





Lyra shuffled around; she felt uncomfortable. There was a Guard on both her sides, but neither paid any attention to her. She couldn't take a good look at their faces - their standard-issue helmets covered too much - but as far as she could tell, both colts were simply staring out of their skulls, completely lost in their imaginary world. Escorting prisoners wasn't one of their life-long dreams, apparently.

She would have commented on that, were she not standing in front of a high-ranking Guard.

The boss Guard, whom the others only referred to as 'Sarge', was a stocky unicorn. He wore the same armour as the rest of the troopers, only a few sizes larger; and unlike the rank-and-serve soldiers, his helmet had a fancier collection of feathers.

He also had his own room, complete with rudimentary furniture. Two drawers, a bookshelf, a few slightly shrivelled potted plants... and a desk. A desk not unlike that Sarge himself; stubby and comically oversized, especially for the small office. 

The office was barely larger than Lyra's cell, and the table occupied a good one-fifth of it. It didn't just make the room appear smaller either. It was a waste, as there were a grand total of three letters on the top.

One of them covered Lyra's case.

"Heartstrings, isn't it."

Lyra flinched and turned her attention to the Sarge. The stallion talked in a slow, baritone voice; the tone seemed belie a dull mind, but Lyra had already learnt how that wasn't completely true. He was only slightly competent at his tasks - the worst kind of competent. He was good enough to make progress, but not good enough to realize when he had started going down the wrong track.

"We've met before." Lyra rolled her eyes. "Twice, actually."

"I still have to make sure I'm interrogating the right prisoner." Sarge sighed and glanced at the paper on his table. In that very moment, he sounded even more worn-out than Lyra. "It's protocol."

You have one prisoner - me! Just who would you confuse me with?! Lyra fumed, wisely keeping her opinion to herself. She simply gave a meek smile and wondered what she was supposed to say.

"Is there anything more you feel like telling me?" Sarge raised his eyebrows, his deep-brown pupils resting square on Lyra's forehead.

Lyra shook her head. She could have also said 'no', but she found the silence somewhat poetic. She clearly didn't have anything to say.

"I see." Sarge nodded and reached for another letter, pulling it onto the one which covered Lyra's case. "Well, we've looked into your story. Turns out there is a Chrysalis... a wanted criminal with a pretty rotten background. The pony you beat up also matches the description."

"You see?! You see! Didn't I tell you?" Lyra snapped forward. She was spirited, she was happy, she was ecstatic - and that showed in her body language as well. She didn't dare more than a lean, however; she still had two troopers on her side. She didn't want to test when the polearms could crack her head.

A sombre nod was all what Lyra's overjoyed expression could elicit from the Sarge. He wasn't moved at all; he must have been anticipating that reaction.

"We are pretty sure it's only a case of a mistaken identity, however. This pony you found shows no signs of hostility. We've been keeping her in an apartment, and she didn't even try to bolt. Heck, she's the most docile pony I've ever met! She's keeping to every order I've given her." He explained slowly, his deep voice reeking of barely hidden disapproval. "I doubt she would put up with my demands were she the fabled Queen of Changelings."

Lyra pulled back. Her eyebrows wrinkled and her head banked to the side; she was wrecking her mind to make some sense of the news. On one hoof, it wouldn't have been unlike Chrysalis to make fools of the Guard. The Queen seemed like the pony who would enjoy the game of subterfuge... as long as she was winning, of course.

But Chrysalis was also full of pride; she wouldn't have humiliated herself. 

Nodding to herself silently, Lyra had to concede: no way would the boastful Queen submit to a house-arrest, kowtowing to the whims of some intrepid soldiers. Especially while her changeling horde was being scattered by the Guard.

So... just what is this? What's she planning?

Her nose drooping towards her hooves, Lyra was a complete loss. That was unsettling; she didn't like not knowing what the soul-devouring monstrosity was up to. She would have preferred putting that threat to rest instead. For good, if possible.

"That is quite unlike our good Queen." Snowy cleared her throat. The windigo was propping the wall behind Lyra, pondering the same topic. "It's like she's not the same monster which we've fought."

Lyra bobbed her head a little. She was thinking about the very same thing.

"I wonder if Master's last order was an overkill?" Snowy mused on, her nose pushed upwards by her hoof. "Erasing every memory related to Queen Chrysalis without specifying her to be exempt... is it possible that we wiped her mind clean? I mean, could she have memories that don't relate to her own self?"

Lyra's ears drooped and her lower jaw fell hanging. She hadn't thought of that.

Did I... did I actually beat the Queen that easily? All it would have taken was... one single order?

She closed her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut, wishing the entire office disappeared into some cosmic cataclysm.

I could have done this the very first moment. I could have prevented that whole disaster before it began...!

She turned her head, trying to avert her closed eyes from the painful memories. Regrettable events - which she could have avoided altogether.

"Anyway, I've realized this changes your case a little. Now, I know I've said a few harsh things about you earlier. But I'm also clever enough to know when I need to revise my opinion." Sarge groaned, blissfully unaware of the epiphany Lyra just had. "So I'm letting you go, for now. We'll be taking your teeth-print, of course.. and I'd like you to not leave town until the investigation concludes."

Lyra cracked her eyes open and gave an annoyed glare. She may have been allowed to leave, but she wasn't off the hook. Taking her teeth-print meant that she had become something of a registered criminal. Her nostrils widened and she exhaled loudly; her muscles twitched as she fought with herself. She wanted to scream, to shout, to make a scene; to explain how she had saved the entire town, including those idiots wearing Guard armour...

...but she also knew that it would have been in vain. She had already tried to explain all of that.

Resignation was all she had left. She observed Sarge take a small box from the desk; it was full of blue powder, similar to clay. Then the box floated to her face.

Lyra knew what was expected of her.

She closed her eyes, took a trembling breath and bit onto the box. Twice. Her upper teeth left their mark first, then the lower ones. The clay left a hint of blue on her teeth and tasted horrible; it was like chewing paper, and Lyra couldn't help but chuckle grimly to over the fact.

Such a harmless way to wreck her remaining life.

"Thanks." Sarge forced a grin and took the box back. "You can leave now. Try not to cause any more trouble... you don't want to be brought back here. That clear?"

Lyra sneered in response. She had the urge to repay the smug warning with a hoof to the bastard's face, but her common sense whittled her reaction down to a sarcastic smile.

"Crystal clear."





"Hey, Sarge... was she not making things up? Was there really a Queen Chrysalis? I mean, the pony-eating kind?"

Sarge snorted loudly. He was expecting such questions; thankfully, the trooper had the common sense to ask after the troublemaker musician had been escorted out.

"Yep. She's in our bounty book, even!" He chuckled and pointed his hoof at a thin tome on the shelf. The book was on the higher-most shelf and was covered in thick dust. It hadn't been touched since the time they had to cross out the Nightmare Moon entry.

"Oooh... spooky." The young trooper whistled, his eyes glued to the mysterious book. He may had heard of it -  in passing, during boot-camp. "Sarge, you've gotta' be one Celestia-bucked genius. I mean, when was the last time anypony had read that thing? How'd you remember anything from that?"

"Ha! It's no big deal." Sarge chuckled once again. He then drew a deep breath, enjoying the aura of superiority that surrounded him. "Being good is why I was made a sergeant, after all."

His smile wasn't completely honest, though. He couldn't bring himself to admit, but he had no idea how he recalled anything about the bounty book... or Chrysalis. He could only remember when the detail clicked - it was during the visit from the local baker, that Pinkie Pie. They were conversing about the recent attack, and then suddenly... he just remembered everything.

Literally so.

The memories simply popped up in his mind. He would have found the fact alarming, were he not so proud of the achievement.

I never realized I'm such a genius, Sarge clicked his tongue. He then took two blank forms from the drawer. Might as well get over with the paperwork while I'm in high mood! 

One of the papers was for the discharge of Lyra Heartstrings; the other was for making a note of the musician as a potential danger.





The heavy, iron-laden door of the barracks shut with a thundering boom. The oversized door created its own air currents as it moved, the light breeze ruffling Lyra's mane. She squinted on reflex and peeked over her shoulder. Her paranoia was baseless, though; there wasn't a single trooper outside. Nopony was trailing her, nopony was keeping an eye on her. She was really let go.

Meh. Well, some definition of 'being let go'.

She was a registered criminal, after all. From now on, that was going to be one big, ominous cloud hanging over her life.

My life...

Her victory over Chrysalis didn't come easy. She had realised in her cell that she had serious issues recalling most of her life. Her memories were a disjointed mess. Some she couldn't place anywhere and others were so outlandish that she couldn't believe them to have ever happened. For all she knew, she was mistaking her daydreams for actual memories.

Haha... never thought I'd be afraid of my own imagination one day.

"Well, at least that's done and over with," Snowy sighed. The windigo was keeping her eyes closed and her nose arched upwards; she seemed to be enjoying the rays of the setting sun.

"For now." Lyra growled. She was the perfect opposite of her servant; she returned to staring in front of her with a sour expression, her eyes scanning the clouds above. She spotted some pegasi there; the flying ponies were assembling a rather huge block of dark-grey clouds.

There was some rain scheduled, apparently.

Lyra gave them a disapproving glare. The last thing she needed was to get wet.

"Let's go home, Snowy."

"But of course, Master." Snowy produced a graceful bow. She lowered herself to the ground and stayed there, peeking up at her master with an awkward smile on her face.

What's with that face? Lyra raised her eyebrows at the sight, then yanked her head away with a shrug. She had no patience for the windigo's quirkiness at that precise moment. Grinding her teeth in an attempt to work the anger out of her system, she took a step forward... and flinched back.

She suddenly understood why Snowy had stalled. The windigo had no idea which way to go.

Which was too bad, as neither did she.

Home. Where is... home?

Her ears drooping parallel to the ground, Lyra moved her gaze to the left, then back all the way to the right. The street felt familiar, but not familiar enough to get her bearings. Not that knowing where she was would have helped much. She had no idea about her destination either. All she could remember was the rough picture of a house - and nothing more.

Lyra didn't care what anypony could have thought of her. She collapsed into the dust, held a hoof to the side of her head... and broke into a hollering, snort-filled laughter in the middle of the street.

She had absolutely no idea where she was living.





Puddles of water gathered on the floor. They were of varying size, the larger ones marking the spots which Lyra had spent more time over.

She was soaking wet.

Water was dribbling from her mane, her tail, her ears, her nose... and virtually every inch of her coat. She was also covered in mud, and smelled like a damp rag that had spent the last week in a bucket.

All lesser concerns, from first to last.

Huddling close to the wall and inspecting the interior as thoroughly as the dim lighting allowed, Lyra was hoping to tell if she had wound up in the right place. Never in her life did she place so much trust in a freaking phonebook.

One misprint and I'm doing a breaking-and-entering.

The thought made her do a nervous gulp. Her chances of explaining that possibility to the Guard were close to zero - from the negative side.

"Fancy place." Snowy mumbled. The sounds of heavy rain mixed into her words; the weather had taken a turn for the worse outside, and the duo hadn't closed the door behind themselves.

"Real fancy," Lyra nodded curtly, her amber eyes darting across the furniture-filled corridor. She liked the design; the stylish furniture made the corners of her mouth curl to a proud smile.

I must've had some pretty nice job, if I were able to afford all this.

A bright flash and explosion-like crackle broke her musing. Both master and servant spun around, towards the entrance. The door was hanging open, the same way as Lyra had left it; the heavy rain was battering the side of the house and was pouring into the corridor, soaking the wooden floor.

Just thunder, Lyra thought and took a deep, trembling breath. She was too much on the edge.

"So you're here at last."

Snapping her head to the noise and backing a step away, Lyra felt her blood pressure and her heartbeat race each other. A beige earth pony was facing her; either an intruder in her home or...

...or I've just entered the wrong house. Frig.

Lyra narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side. She couldn't see much of the earth pony's features, but she was obviously calm; way too calm for a pony who had just stumbled into a burglar. It was a bet, but Lyra  assumed she got the address right. In which case it was she who ran into a burglar just now.

Well, shoot. This day just keeps getting better and better.

"I was expecting you much earlier." The earth pony scowled and began pacing towards Lyra, her curly blue mane bobbing by her neck. "Care explaining yourself?"

Expecting me...? Explaining myself? Lyra echoed the words in her head. Is this another interrogation?

She flexed every muscle in her body. Every part of her was on full alert; she didn't care for the threatening language. Especially not in her own home. Or, well... her probable home.

"I've told the Guard everything already," she growled.

She realized that she had missed a step - she had completely forgotten to ask who that pony was. Though in the grand scheme of things, details such as names might have been superfluous anyway. She didn't really care who wanted to interrogate her.

"Yes, I know! I've talked with the Guard - and they are my exact worry! SERIOUSLY, JUST WHAT THE HECK DID YOU DO?!" the earth pony blared. Her voice went shrill on zero notice; she was talking normally in one moment and was screaming in the next. "THIS WAS EXACTLY WHAT I'VE TOLD YOU WOULD HAPPEN!"

Lyra was awed by the verbal assault. She took a faltering step backwards and hugged the floor, only getting as far as gulping dryly.

I'm in trouble.

Staring at the beige pony with bulging eyes, Lyra's mind scrambled to put the known facts together. While it had taken her a while to find her home, she hadn't been released from custody so long ago; there was no way strangers could have known about the fact yet. This pony somehow did, however. She had even been waiting for Lyra to come home. Inside the house, no less.

This pony knows a lot about me, Lyra tried to swallow, but only dry, empty air went down her burning throat. And what did she just say? That the Guard is her exact worry? What's with that? Is she some kind of mafia?

Glancing around the expensive furniture for the second time, Lyra reluctantly readjusted her views on her former life. Maybe her lucrative job was more shady than she would have liked. The Guard did seem pretty ready to arrest her, after all. Almost as if they were waiting for a chance.

Holy Celestia! If I was working for some crime gang, then they would think I've talked to the Guard... and then this could be... this earth pony could be...

Cold droplets of sweat joined the rainwater wetting her coat.

This earth pony could be a hitmare sent to silence me.

She hurriedly glanced to her side, to her only weapon. Snowy looked bewildered, as usual - but Lyra knew the windigo would spring into action had she ordered.

"I've done everything! I've told you, I've warned you! That this might happen, that there could be consequences!" The earth pony carried on with her tirade. The loudness of her voice went down considerably, but that made the exasperation and anger in her tone that much more apparent. "But no, you wouldn't listen! You never listen! Well Lyra Heartstrings, you've gone and done it now! Now the Guard is involved! And you know what that means, don't you? That means my hoof is forced! I'll be going to-"

Lyra had absolutely no need to know what that pony was about to do. She had already heard what she needed to hear; she knew that she was in danger. Her choices were pretty limited, though. Fighting would definitely get her into trouble with the Guard; an unappealing prospect. 

She bet those armoured numbskulls could never trace a sudden amnesia back to her though!

"Snowy! Make this pony forget about me!" Lyra shouted a hasty order, snapping her head to the left. "HURRY!"

This pony could be dangerous, is what she had left unsaid. There was no need to, either. The windigo could read the situation nicely on her own as well. The crimson eyes and the blue body of Snowy flashed, and a tinge of pain ran through Lyra's skull. She was already lying on the ground, Celestia be thanked; she didn't risk tipping over this way.

The effect was immediate, as always. The beige pony was frozen mid-sentence; her sole reaction was her eyes going wide with shock.

Lyra attributed that to her sudden yell. To most ponies, her shouting orders at thin air must have been a rather bizarre experience.

"Now we'll never know what she was going to do, though." Snowy sighed and hung her head low in dejection. "I wonder if we're going to miss this information later on."

"Doubt it," Lyra growled, then scampered to her hooves with a groan. She wasn't in a big hurry; the earth pony wasn't looking malicious any more.

In fact, the earth pony was still recovering from the shock. She was holding a hoof against her head, only gasping when Lyra moved into her view.

I suppose we really don't know each other now, Lyra eyed the stranger back. Might as well greet you, then.

"Well hello there."

The earth pony gave a muffled shriek and jumped back.

"No need to worry! I mean no trouble." Lyra forced a warm smile onto her face. "I'm Lyra Heartstrings and... well, I'd only like to ask you to leave. Since this is, like, my house."

"Uhh... what?" The earth pony turned her head to the left, giving Lyra a puzzled glare. "No it isn't! I'm Bon... and I'm pretty sure that I would know if you lived here. Since I, for the record, have been living here for years already."

Lyra reared her head back at the claim. She could readily imagine a great deal of possible comebacks, but that wasn't one of them. She passed a stealthy glance at Snowy, only to see her servant the the same confounded. She snapped her eyes back to that Bon-pony and made her mind up.

Not a bad attempt, but it takes a better liar to fool Lyra Heartstrings.

"Well, there's an easy way to settle that!" She squinted at the beige pony. She had finally found her calm voice; she had a pretty good idea how she was going to rid herself of that nuisance. "Let's take a look at the phone book, shall we? That should be quite clear on which of us lives here, right?"





The bed creaked loudly, mattress and wooden beams both struggling to cushion the fall. Then they did so again, only much quieter; then once more, for the third time. Then everything fell silent, apart from the sounds of rain battering on the window.

Lyra had finally stopped squirming and settled on the bed.

"What a lousy day," she muttered and breathed in. She enjoyed the smell. The smell of her bed was among the few things she could still remember, and she took great happiness in that.

"That it was. Full of weird twists and turns," Snowy sighed and stretched her ghostly limbs. "Were I a believer of such fantasies, I would have assumed that some greater force was testing us."

Her nose digging into the white bed sheet, Lyra's lip curled to a toothy grin. She had almost forgotten how prone Snowy was to spouting nonsense.

"Still, I wonder if this was all right." Snowy mumbled and stretched again. She didn't finish the exercise; she sprawled out completely instead, ending up flat on her belly.

The tone carried a hint of disapproval, and that sparked Lyra's interest. It wasn't often that Snowy had a dissenting thought. She turned her gaze to the windigo, her head propped on a hoof.

"What wasn't all right?"

Snowy only gave her answer after a pretty long pause. She didn't seem intent on elaborating. Not that she had a choice, given that her master had requested to do so.

"Kicking that Bon pony out, just like that. I mean, it's raining outside... and she did seem pretty honest when she said she had nowhere to go."

Lyra rolled around and sprawled out on the bed. Her mouth was fully open, a burst of wry laughter leaving her lips. To pick that one of all the poor decisions she had made today...

"You're weird!" she giggled, stretching her neck until the windigo was square in the middle of her upside-down world. "Of course she'd say that, duh. Heck! Even I would say that, were I squatting in somepony else's house. You really need to stop taking everything at face value."

"Umm... right, if Master says so." Snowy sighed lengthily, her head rolling lazily to the right. "I will do my best to- ah?"

Her hooves pointing at the ceiling as she laid on her back, Lyra's eyebrows crept towards the floor. She watched the windigo shuffle closer to her - and then continue onwards, moving in under her bed.

Keeping a ghost is remarkably like keeping a cat, Lyra scowled and rolled around. She propped her front hooves against the side of the bed and pushed herself the edge. It was a precarious situation; she was balancing close to tipping over and crashing head-first into the floor.

"I knew I saw something! There's a book here!" Snowy turned her crimson eyes back at her master, her nose prodding a blue book that was lying under the bed. "I may be wrong, but this is quite an odd place to keep a book, isn't it?"

"Yeah. I'd only keep something there if I was trying to hide it." Lyra mumbled. Her horn flashed with amber and the book sprang towards her; she was sitting on her bed seconds later, the book right in front of her. She ran her gaze down the letters adorning the cover page, and her voice almost buckled at the surprise.

"A diary...!"

"Oh! That is most fortunate!" Snowy hopped onto the bed. Her eyes were flashing like rubies; she was excited and energized. "This should be Master's diary, right? Master could use this to recover her memories, right?!"

Lyra yelped and leaned away. She wasn't expecting the windigo to crawl out from under the bed so fast, let alone pop up right next to her. She calmed down in the span of a few disapproving blinks however, and cracked the book open. The pages were full of text - made with black ink and in her own writing.

She gulped, shifted around and started reading.

Oi, oi, oi... this feels pretty creepy. Almost as if I was snooping on myself.
> 31 - Solitary hero
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra turned another page and reached the last entry; the following pages were blank, untouched by the quill.

Just in time, too. She could have used a break already.

She set the book aside and rolled her head around. She felt sickly. Her neck was sore, her eyes bloodshot. 

It was the perfect time to read; the world outside was dormant. The rain had ebbed. Only small droplets were battering on the window, filling the house with monotone clinging. The sound was the only way to tell that it was still raining, as the windows only showcased the complete darkness outside. The sickly shine of the moon failed to penetrate the thick cloud layer.

The lack of distraction had predictable effects on Lyra: she had completely lost herself in the diary. She had lain in her bed for hours, keeping the same posture as she blazed through the diary entries. She didn't even notice how uncomfortable she was - not until she stopped reading.

Rolling her head, she heard her neck go pop, the sound accompanied by a small jolt and a shiver. She groaned, mostly out of habit; she wasn't really angry. She didn't fault herself... it simply couldn't be helped. She saw a life unfold in front of her. A life that seemed strange, exciting - and very alien at the same time.

A life that used to be hers.

"Is Master all right?"

A sour grimace on her face, Lyra scowled. That was a very good question. Even she had no idea herself.

"Master has been awfully silent ever since she started reading this book," Snowy hopped onto the bed, facing her master from the book's opposite side. "Was there something unsettling in there...?"

Lyra bit onto her lip, then nodded hesitantly - followed by a quiet whine, on account of her stiff neck.

"I don't get it." Snowy scratched her sideways-bobbed head. "If it's truly Master's old thoughts that are written down there... how could they be upsetting Master?"

"Hmpf!" Lyra made a face. She didn't bother hiding her displeasure; in fact, she put it in plain view. She flipped the pages to a particular entry and shoved the book into the windigo's face. "Take a look for yourself, then! See if you can keep that cool tone of yours."

Snowy blinked at the book, then pulled her head back to get a better look. Then she sighed and shook her head with a grim expression.

"I'm awfully sorry Master, but I... I would need Master read these for me," the windigo muttered, her head sinking towards the white bed sheet. "I... ah, this is so embarrassing to admit! But I can't read."

Lyra's jaw dropped as her left eyebrow crept upwards. She yanked the book back and flipped the pages furiously. She was looking for a specific entry; she may have read the entire book, but she wanted to double-check. The entry took a few seconds of frenzied search to find; then she pushed the book against the bed, her amber eyes hastily going through the text.

"Here! It says here that I just taught you how to read!" she exclaimed, her gaze darting to the windigo. "Snowy, this wasn't long ago! What do you mean you can't- oh."

Pressing a hoof against her forehead, Lyra realized that she knew the explanation already.

"I suppose Master shouldn't waste too much time educating me." Snowy chuckled sombrely. "Well, I'm just a servant anyway... so this should be acceptable. We could consider it as the price of my power. But I digress - did this insignificant matter make Master so upset?"

Lyra opened her mouth, gaped uselessly for a while and then closed it. Her gaze returned to the open book, but there was no help coming from there either. She had no idea how to turn her thoughts into words. In truth, even she had no idea what she was really thinking. Her thoughts refused to take a definite shape; her mind was just a big bowl of emotions, bubbling and swirling like a hot soup.

Slamming the book shut, Lyra decided to simply say whatever came to her mind. According to the diary, she used to be really good at being blunt.

"That Bon... well, turns that she did live here. I used to know her, too," she mumbled, closing the sentence by taking a deep breath. The short breath turned into a longer pause; she used the time to scratch her head. Saying her first thoughts didn't help when she couldn't even find those thoughts in the first place. "No, that's not it. It's worse than that - I didn't simply know Bon. She used to be my... friend."

Snowy's mouth opened, but she didn't say anything. She simply left her lower jaw hanging - even as she shifted backwards, distancing herself from her master ever so slightly.

Lyra gave that unwitting body language a wry grin.

To think a windigo would be afraid of me... makes me wonder which of us is the monster here!

"I met Bon when I was little... and we've been together ever since." Lyra carried on, her gaze wandering to the side. Her tongue started to loosen up; it was getting easier and easier to ramble. Each word paved the road for the rest, it seemed. "We used to do everything together. I probably didn't bother writing down everything, but it seems that Bon used to be my best friend. Hahaha, imagine this - we lived together! Well... we used to...!"

The flow of words stopped. Lyra grit her teeth and hunched over, pressing a leg against her aching chest.

Damn it! If only I had known! I could have...!

Of course, those thoughts always wound her up in the same place.

Could have.

Would have.

Should have.

Didn't.

There was no going back on that mistake any more. That was the price for her victory over Chrysalis - the price of saving her home.

Price...

Thinking about what she had read, Lyra found an interesting theme repeating itself. Every single time she had tried to save something with her new-found powers - every time she had tried to cheat, no matter for whose benefit - her efforts had always been rendered moot. No, even worse than that; she had always wound up worse than at the beginning. But those early mistakes were her own; the diary sounded clear on the matter.

This time, however...

This time she had fought for the sake of others, and she had used the right means to do so. She was sure that she was in the right this time. Ponyville was safe, after all; it was only she who had wound up for the worse. She sacrificed her own self, her former career, her entire life. She even gave up on Bon, the only pony who she used to rely on. A fairly steep price - but perhaps not unreasonably so.

Giving up one life was a great exchange rate for saving the rest in the town.

And yet...!

Why was she so upset over such a resounding success?

"Master, I... I'm sorry!" Snowy held her hooves in front of her mouth, her head shaking from left to right. "I didn't think- I didn't want-!"

Grinding her teeth in silence, Lyra threw a piercing stare at the windigo. Those pathetic apologies were never to her liking, and her patience was especially thin this time. It was time she gave her servant a reality check.

"You didn't want WHAT?! You didn't want us to go apart? You would have wanted us to stay together? Me and Bon, the life-long pals?" Lyra boomed. The shift in her tone was sudden that Snowy leaped from the bed, landing a few steps away.

"Do you think that would have been better? Well, guess what - you're wrong."

Lyra spat that last word out - rather literally. It wasn't very refined of her, but she was on her own and she really had to do something about the bile taste filling her mouth.

"Do you think I could have lived with Bon? Do you think I could live with a pony, act as if we were friends - all without really feeling like it? Do you think I could fake through a life like that?!" she snarled, turning her head away in anguish and disgust. She couldn't accept the mere idea itself. "This deal was settled the moment I stayed behind to fight the changelings. By the time I came back here, I no longer knew anypony called Bon."

She closed her eyes and breathed in. 

"It was long over by then," she muttered.

She was trembling; she had to calm down. This topic could only be addressed with a cool head. Raving and screaming, while an enticing possibility, wouldn't have helped her one bit.

"This was for the best," she sighed once she gathered her thoughts a little. She ran a hoof down her mane, then gave the back of her neck a slow scratch. "Better this than have her guessing... than to have her hoping for something that just isn't there. I'm no longer the Lyra she knew."

Hanging her head low, Lyra allowed herself a dark grin.

Besides, I sincerely doubt Bon would want to be friends with this new me anyway.

"Even so," Snowy mumbled, speaking only once she was sure her master was done.

Lyra didn't bother to raise her head. She only twisted her neck, cocking her head to the side so her left eye had a clean view of the windigo.

"Even so, this is hardly a fair outcome." Snowy shook her head. "I understand what Master is saying - I really do. But then... hadn't Master given up on her friend just to save this place? Shouldn't Master be a hero, then?"

Lyra closed her eye and grinned. What a bittersweet, empty grin that was! She couldn't contest anything the windigo had said, though. That wry, self-depreciating grin was the best way she could cope.

"Why was Master treated as a criminal, then?" Snowy carried on. She got off her hooves and was pacing towards her master, her crimson eyes burning like hot coals in a fireplace. "Why is that Queen, that fiend, given the treatment that Master would have deserved?! Surrounded by helpful ponies, pampered and being taken care of!"

Sitting on her bed with nothing but a diary and an angry ghost to keep her company, Lyra chuckled.

She had already heard a pretty good answer to that one.

"Because this world is far from perfect, I guess."





The tinfoil paper rattled loudly as it crumpled. Then it joined the growing pile of various discarded wrappers. It rolled down the side of that small hill and fell silent, wedged between empty covers of chocolate bars.

The only noises left in the house were the light clinking on the windows... and that of Lyra chewing.

She was going through every piece of sweet she could dig up in the house. It wasn't a healthy diet, but she needed those 'happy-hormones' more than ever. She had already burnt through the various stages of outrage, and the exercise had left her in a melancholic mood.

She was simply sitting in the kitchen, staring out the window, her head as empty as the tin-foil paper she had just thrown away.

It was hard to see the world outside. Everything was obscured, blurred by the thin film of water covering the window. The rain, while decreasing in intensity, didn't want to cease.

"Id's rainin'."

Her mouth full of chocolate and her pupils so wide as a daydreamer's, that self-evident nonsense was all that Lyra could mumble.

"Ever since yesterday afternoon," Snowy nodded. The windigo was lying on her side, her legs dangling off the kitchen counter. "Some pegasi must have had a busy schedule."

Lyra gave that an absent-minded nod. Indeed; carrying so much water - even in the shape of clouds - wasn't a light task. It needed preparation and careful monitoring; while plants needed water, they didn't like getting doused either. While Lyra had no interest in the specifics, she knew that such a long rain needed an equally long preparation. Which meant that pegasi were assembling those clouds before and even during her battle with the changelings.

Ponyville was on the brink of being destroyed - but one way or the other, that rain had to fall.

Lyra gave that idea an absent-minded chuckle. She found herself liking the rain. It was a great reality-check, making her realize how small she was. She had fought with everything on the line... and nopony in the world cared. The pegasi in charge of rain didn't even alter their schedule.

"Though... why should they have? It's not like they knew."

Her pupils narrowed, her eyes focusing onto the window-glass. Small spots marked where the rain droplets landed - flashing up and then disappearing in a steady rhythm.

"Master is thinking out loud again?" Snowy raised her eyebrows. Her sides rose and dipped as she talked; a funny sight, considering that she had no need to breathe in the first place.

"Yeah. About how life goes on," Lyra cocked her head toward the windigo with a sigh. "We can't stay like this forever. I mean, uh..."

She trailed off and licked her teeth absent-mindedly. She was fresh out of ideas. She knew it wasn't a viable plan, but she couldn't find any issues with sitting in the kitchen and eating chocolate.

"We can't stay here forever indeed. The fridge is pretty empty now, for example." Snowy lifted a hoof and pointed at the purring metal box in the corner. "Master is going to have to go shopping before long."

Lyra rolled her eyes at the 'help'. The windigo was right, of course; she would need to eat something tomorrow as well. Which meant that she would have to buy groceries at some point. For which she would need money; so to get her long-term necessities covered, she would need some form of income, too. Which meant finding work.

All the steps of that process were simple and logical. Lyra, however, found it very difficult to even consider doing any of them. After a day in which she had to make decisions over life and death, when her decisions had carried consequences for an entire town... groceries and jobs seemed so utterly pointless. Why bother buying a bunch of carrots when she might well be dying in another last-stand tomorrow?

It all seemed so weightless to her. Useless, pitiful decisions that carried no significance whatsoever.

The same decisions that had made up the bulk of her previous life, interestingly.

Seriously... how would my life go on?

She closed her eyes and breathed in lengthily, the air hissing around her nostrils.

It was hard to admit, but the battle came easier to her. The binary, life-or-death decisions were a lot easier than being thrown into a murky pool called 'life'. Sitting all alone in her kitchen, all Lyra could think was how she wanted none of that. Yes, that was her choice: she simply wanted to be left alone.

I've already done my share.

She glanced to her side, at the plateful of chocolates. She picked the top-most piece with her magic and tore the tinfoil away. She tossed the cherry-filled candy into her mouth - and almost choked on it when the familiar voice greeted her from behind.

"Well, well, well... this is the most depressing victory party I've ever seen."





Lyra bounced up; she was back on her hooves and facing in the opposite direction a moment later. The visit came as a complete surprise, but the voice immediately betrayed her visitor's identity. She was tense - the arrival of the game master was never a good sign - but her lethargy overpowered her panic on short order. She simply frowned and continued chewing on the chocolate.

As such, the greetings were cut short. Or rather: completely omitted. Lyra showed no willingness for a warm welcome; she chewed on the chocolate, and pretty loudly at that. The Source displayed similar levels of etiquette; the hooded pony paced to the heap of sweets and took one without a single word.

Lyra eyed the game master closely, but there was nothing ominous in the moves. A rum-filled bonbon was enveloped in magenta aura and floated off, disappearing into the mouth under the hood.

Oi... you're, like, being really homely here. Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and swallowed. She didn't like other ponies eating her sweets. Not until she offered, anyway.

"This is how I celebrate." She gave the hooded figure a piercing glare. "I don't like to keep the list of invitees long."

"More like you don't have anypony to invite." The Source chuckled. That pony either ate chocolate really fast, or could talk with her mouth full.

"I wonder whose fault that is." Lyra rolled her eyes. Her gaze didn't return to the game master, but wandered to the window instead. The clinking of the rain had stopped, but the world beyond the window was still blurry, the shapes filtered by the film of water flowing down the glass.

Time has stopped, Lyra realized. Just like the last time, before the bank.

She paused and narrowed her eyes. She could recall that scene way too well. She remembered every single detail with utmost clarity, even the flickering of the steadily holding dust clouds.

For a pony who had forgotten so much about her own life, that was definitely one huge oddity.

Lyra turned her head, the green robed pony back in her focus. She wasn't sure on her selective forgetfulness, but a few ideas came to mind now - none of which painted the game master in positive light.

You bastard.

"Shifting the blame, eh? Aren't you one sore winner." The Source chuckled wryly, the magenta magic lifting another chocolate from the plate. "I didn't force you to do anything. All the choices were yours."

Lyra growled internally at the obvious bait. The callous remark sparked a flame in her all the same; the urge to break into a tirade over her so-called 'choices' was strong.

I sure never chose to fight a horde of changelings! The challenge found me, more like. Heck - I would have ran away, had that officer not bumped into me.

Lyra gave her internal rage a momentary pause. Surprisingly enough, she could clearly recall the details of that officer. He was a fairly nondescript pony, just like the other guards - apart from one tiny little difference.

His eyes. Those violet eyes with a red outer ring. Lyra had never seen such eyes before.

...or so she had thought at first. But now, reminiscing about her previous meeting with the Source, she clearly remembered seeing those eyes flash under the hood.

You...!

"Choices, huh? I wonder what would have happened if I chose to run away." Lyra raised her eyebrows in curiosity. She fought to keep herself form making a face, but only achieved limited success. "Which, you know, my original choice was. Right until I bumped into a mysterious officer."

The notion wasn't lost on the Source.

"How perceptive of you. Why yes, it was I who gave you the luxury of choice!" The hooded game-master chuckled, the movement of the hood hinting at the pony also giving a nod. "I gave you the sword... and the resolve to stand your ground. Were it not for me, you would have been one of the panicking lot. Were it not for me, you would have had no choice but to run."

Lyra pursed her lips. She had heard the same argument back in the cell. It wasn't very convincing even back then.

"You've said that already..." she shook her head. "But my life would be shattered, no matter what I had chosen. You let me decide if I'd rather get hanged or drowned. Thanks a bunch, by the way."

It didn't take an omnipotent pony to notice the dripping sarcasm of the last few words.

"Haha, aren't you going a little overboard here? Would you blame me if lightning struck your house, too?" The Source chuckled, the hood shaking as the pony underneath fought the laughter. "You may be missing a crucial fact. It wasn't me leading those changelings! Quite the opposite - I went as far as I could in combating them. I even fought as a regular pony!"

Lyra groaned and rubbed her neck. She hated when facts were used to counter her completely legitimate-feeling anger. She especially hated this two-faced game master for doing so. However, no matter how she tried, she couldn't find a grip on the Source's explanations.

Even so, the facts remained the same. Lyra wound up getting the short end of stick all the freaking time.

That shifty Source was using cherry-picked facts to cover for some obvious under-hooved play, Lyra was sure of that. Only - she couldn't prove anything. She was so short on facts that she couldn't even convince herself fully. She had no argument and no proof to back her up. A vague feeling was all she had, and feelings were always so hard to grasp.

"It was only my avatar that saved this place." The Source carried on. The hood cast a perfectly dark shadow over the Source's face, but Lyra was sure the game master was smirking, full of pride. "I saved your life, remember? I allowed you to take Snowy's reins. I made you realize you could stand and fight... everything you accomplished yesterday, it was all because of my efforts. And what do I get?"

Her hoof still in her mane, Lyra raised her eyebrows and brought her gaze onto the Source. She was legitimately curious what the game master could have gained from the whole ordeal.

"Listening to your complaints, that's all I got." The Source snorted. There was no anger in the tone, though; rather, it was dismissive and uncaring. "I bet it sounds familiar to you, doesn't it? You mortals are all the same... always so quick to condemn what you're doing yourself."

Lyra hummed and turned her eyes to the ground. That sounded correct. That sounded so true that she had no arguments against it.

"So what would you like to hear?" she mumbled. There was no need for façades any more; the true bitterness from her heart was bleeding straight into her voice. "Should I be cheerful? Pop a champagne bottle and hold a party... in my empty house? Invite all the friends I can no longer remember?"

"Nopony ever claimed that being a hero is a happy business." The Source said, almost whispering. Had the outside world not been dead silent, those words would have been lost to the noise. "Anypony can better the world if it requires no effort. Heroes... they are born from those who are willing to cast everything aside. Or those who have nothing left."

It was Lyra's turn to snort. She took her hoof from her mane and turned to the fridge. She used her magic to yank on the door - and was content to see that even in the paused world, the door would still open. She grabbed a brown-stained glass and set it onto the desk, hastily pulling two small glasses next to it.

"Let's celebrate your newest hero, then!" she snickered and pulled the cork out of the bottle.





"Moonshine... haa." The Source cooed. "I can't even recall the last time I tasted the stuff."

The admission brought a chuckle out of Lyra. She was still struggling with the oppressive taste of the drink. After some awkwardly lot seconds, she finally forced herself to swallow... and then she slammed the empty glass onto the table, signifying her victory over the drink that Bon used to like.

It seemed fitting, drinking that for the requiem of the good old days.

"It almost sounds as if you regret your job." Lyra cocked her head to the side, a mean snicker plastered over her face. She cleared her throat quickly; the moonshine was burning away at her insides. "Must be tiresome, ruling over us puny mortals."

"It may surprise you, but I don't really care for it." The Source set its own glass back onto the table, its magenta magic grabbing the bottle to pour a fresh round. "Having a good drink... or rather, having the time for a good drink is just another price I paid to become a hero. It's one of the smaller ones, too."

Lyra's ears perked at the comment. She couldn't imagine becoming an all-mighty god to be such a bad deal. She certainly never pitied Celestia, who was about half-way to that status. She scratched her head in her absent-minded stupor; then she shrugged and poured herself another drink.

Might as well.

Her magic grabbed and hoisted the small glass into the air. The moonshine inside splashed around; bits spilled over and landed on the table. The rest went down Lyra's throat as she yanked her head back and poured over her mouth. She promptly broke into a shudder. She wasn't used to drinking, and could feel the heavy moonshine going straight to her head.

On the other hoof, the taste kind of improved for the second round. Either that or her tastebuds were already going numb.

"So... what am I supposed to do now?" she asked, eyeing the green robed figure as she slammed her glass back on the table.

The Source rolled its glass aloofly, then shrugged.

"I don't know. What do you feel like doing?"

Lyra sat down and pushed her front legs against the table, bringing her torso almost vertical.

"Not much, to be honest. I mean, I was ready to give my life for this town..." She hummed and reared her head back, arching until her nose was perfectly perpendicular to the ceiling. "But now, after how I was treated..."

The Source turned to her, the violet-red eyes flashing briefly as light filtered under the hood.

"Do you feel slighted? Do you want revenge?"

Her amber eyes staring at the planks in the ceiling, a brief laughter burst out of Lyra's mouth.

"Hahaha... no, I don't think so. I'm no monster just yet... haha! Not that kind of monster anyway."

The Source nodded and turned away, the hood hinting that the red-violet eyes were gazing at the still rain beyond the window.

"That you are not. But you are still a living being... and as such, you desire happiness, one way or another." The hooded pony lamented and reached to the bottle, pouring yet another glass of moonshine. "How would you reach that now, I wonder? Once you've tasted deciding over life and death, it's difficult returning to the much subtler world. Could you bear your remaining years in this ungrateful world? It would be difficult, especially when every decision feels pointless. Would you be satisfied?"

Lyra shuddered and squeezed her eyes. That line of thought was eerily close to what she had been thinking. She heard her own worries echo.

"Could you be satisfied?" The Source mused, then downed the contents of the glass. "Because if not..."

"So just what COULD I do?!" Lyra snapped. She sprang up and turned to the hooded figure, her hoof slamming onto the table. The bottle of moonshine rocked around, the brown liquid sloshing around gently. "I barely recall anything now! Even if I had known what to do, I sure don't any more! I'm lost and alone, damn it! What do you think somepony like me could do?!"

The hood bobbed as the Source acknowledged the complaint. The hooded game master turned to face the former musician, but didn't say anything. Only the empty glass floated back onto the table.

Lyra felt quite dejected at the silence.

Nothing to say, huh? 

She felt her teeth grinding against each other. Infuriatingly enough, the Source was right this time again. Back when she was reading her diary, Lyra couldn't help but find her previous life pointless. She was playing music for high-society events - so what? How could she compare producing some fancy tones to actively saving hundreds of lives?

How could she care for music, knowing all that?

It was only an inkling, but she felt unfit for the world she had lived in. That world also held her in contempt now, which made her decision all the easier.

Decision...

That was a lie - she couldn't really decide. Not when she was effectively blindfolded. If only she remembered enough to move ahead! Even if it was only one step! Something!

If only I hadn't lost so much of myself...!

Lyra's eyes widened, her jaws parting as a loud gasp rushed out her mouth. She had an idea.

"You are the boss of this whole game, right? I mean, you make the rules and you enforce them, right?" she asked, her amber eyes focused on the hooded game master. "Including the servants... and their abilities."

"Umm... that's one strange question." The Source's hood fell to the side as the head tilted underneath. "Of course I am."

"But if you can grant them... then you can also reverse them." Lyra licked her lips, twisting them to a crooked grin. "You can get my memories back!"

Even in the cover of the green robe, the Source was visibly stunned. The robed figure remained oddly static - and in the ensuing silence Lyra shifted her hooves just to see that the world didn't fully stop.

"Of course not!" the game master finally found its voice. "That would be breaking the rules."

"Yeah, it would be." Lyra nodded with a wry chuckle. The opposition didn't dampen her enthusiasm one bit. "So, dear GM! How much would it cost for this cheat to happen?"

The Source reared back, as if the mere suggestion threatened to burn the tip of its nose.

"Don't be shy now," Lyra snickered at the sight of the omnipotent pony shirking away. "Every cheat has its price, remember? You told me that, so it's clearly not an alien concept to you. All I'm asking is what this unique cheat would take."

The Source stopped stalling. The game master froze... then broke into hollering, eye-wateringly loud laughter.





Lyra refilled both glasses and took a sour look at the bottle. There was barely anything left of the brownish stuff; which was bad, as she had started liking it herself. On the other hoof, she shouldn't have much more - she was barely standing on her hooves already. She put the bottle down with a sombre sigh, and glared at the parchment laying on the table.

"In the end, this is a simple deal." The Source put the quill down. "Once both of us have signed, I will immediately undo all the ill effects Snowy had on you."

Lyra nodded. That was simple enough to understand, even to her dazed head.

Apart from one little nitpick.

"Ssoo... what do I give in esss... ecssh... esschange?"

Deep in the task of crafting the new contract, the Source couldn't reply right away. Guided by magenta magic, a small can of fine dust floated to the green hood. Then the game master exhaled loudly, spraying the table with a thin layer of dust. The parchment got its fair share as well, and the ink solidified almost right away, the dust sticking to the wet lines as if they were glue.

Lyra watched the mundane activity in utter awe. It caught her attention way more than it should have... right until the dust got into her nose, making her sneeze.

"I will take the liberty of naming my price at a later date." The Source finally answered, then held the paper high, the violet-red gaze scanning the lines for possible mistakes.

"Y... ya' think I'd sign a blank che... cheque?" Lyra closed an eye and gave a stink stare with the other. "Am ain't stooo... stupid, ya' know."

"It's what I have to offer." The Source shrugged and placed the paper back onto the table. "Take it or leave it."

Lyra groaned. She wasn't in the mood for such negotiations. It was hard to think after so many glasses. Frankly speaking, she was genuinely impressed how the Source was able to down so much moonshine and still act like an impeccable businesspony. 

Lyra, on the other hoof, wasn't sure if she could count to ten without skipping a number or two. With that being said however, she couldn't see why she was fussing so much.

Seriously. I'm acting as if I have so much left to lose!

Grinning like the drunk pony she was, Lyra shambled to the other side of the table. She grabbed the quill with her magic, focused hard - and made a random scribble at the bottom of the paper. She was trying hard, but she couldn't even recall her signature, much less draw it accurately. Her wobbly head didn't help matters either.

"How'd I know that ya' dun... dun' scam me?" she mumbled and glared at the hooded game master. She felt like sprawling over the table and falling asleep, but she forced herself to stay awake. That question felt kind of important.

"This is a Geis scroll, just like our previous contract." The Source snorted, audibly annoyed at the suspicion. "It's magically binding for both parties. No matter what I would normally think or feel, fulfilling my part of the deal will be the most compelling thought to me. Similarly, you will be compelled to fulfil your obligations... once I name them."

"Hrmpf. Magic-schmagic!" Lyra rolled her eyes, then turned her wobbly-blurry vision to the hooded pony. "How'd magic work on ya' anyway?"

"Geis is a very special branch of magic. But, to assure you... as Geis pacts are voluntarily made, they are guaranteed to work." The Source sighed. "I was compelled to assign Snowy to a useless musician, wasn't I?"

Lyra hummed and poked her face with the quill. She wasn't thinking, though. She was only trying to think, but the gears in her head had long ceased to function.

I... really shouldn't have had that last glass.

For a lack of better alternative, she shrugged and pushed the quill under the other pony's hood.

The Source grabbed the quill and put a wriggly line onto the parchment, right next to Lyra's.

"And now it's sealed." The game master announced and threw the quill to the side. "Right - let's get over with it, then!"





"Master?"

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Her head was aching as if she had caught a ten-ton anvil with it. The rest of her body was only slightly better off; her legs felt as if the sinews had turned into steel cables, refusing to move either way. Her stomach was burning and turning, her mouth drier than the deserts of the south.

All in all, there were ample reasons which made her question the boldness of last night's drinking binge. Her over-sensitive hearing was simply the last straw.

Oh for the love Celestia... why are you always so loud, Snowy?!

Lyra popped her eyes open and promptly squinted. She was bathing in warm orange light. The rain outside had stopped, giving her a good view of the red sun looming over the horizon.

It's almost night. Meh. So much for today.

She groaned and pushed herself upright; a difficult endeavour.

"What happened last night?" Snowy inquired again, displaying a complete lack of regard for her master's woes. "I was conversing with Master one moment... and then Master was lying on the floor before I knew better, next to this foul-smelling bottle."

"I simply had a few drinks," Lyra mumbled. She couldn't stop squinting; even the thin light of the setting sun proved too much for her. "Got a visitor... ugh. My head feels like it's splitting."

"A visitor? Who? When?" Snowy blinked with a befuddled expression, then scratched the top of her head. "Did I fell asleep? I mean, I hadn't slept ever since I remember, but that... doesn't mean all that much. Still, this would be a first..."

Lyra stumbled forward, catching the side of the table before she crashed onto the floor. The table immediately groaned and moved, yielding to her weight. The tall bottle there began dancing and finally toppled, rolling around while leaving a thin trail of moonshine.

Lyra winced at the sight. She had sure gone and done it this time! Bon was head over hooves in love with that nauseating joke of a drink. To spill the last drops of it, she would-

Her eyes widened - as much as her burning pupils allowed.

There would be no repercussions this time. She wasn't living with Bon any more, after all. Her closest friend - her only true friend - was not a friend any more.

The power rushing away from her limbs, Lyra gave up on her grip. She dropped to the floor and curled up, gasping and wheezing.

"MASTER!"

While she understood the windigo's motives, Lyra couldn't bring herself to humour Snowy's whims this time.

"It's... it's alright. Just gotta'... just a few seconds..."

She was in tears by the time the last world left her mouth, and then completely shut the outside world out. She was dreaming before long. Of beautiful places, of a marvellous achievements, of music, of a good friend...

It was a delusion, but she was enjoying her fond memories.

It would be her happiest dream for a long time to come. And she cried all the while, for she knew those times were not coming back.

A hero had no use for such delusions.
> 32 - Complete conviction
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra raised the tin can and peeked inside. She found her hopes dashed; only matte metal greeted her. She cast the empty can aside and groaned in dissatisfaction. As pointed out by her stomach growl, she  could have used some food. Any food, at that point. She gulped greedily and ran her gaze around the kitchen. She was in the middle of a scene that belonged to crime investigation movies. All the drawers were hanging wide open, their contents in shuffled disarray. 

There were no burglars ransacking Lyra's kitchen, though. The whole mess was her doing - a final, desperate attempt at denying the sad truth. Clenching her teeth and leaning against the fridge, Lyra produced a melancholic sigh. It was time she faced reality.

"Fiddlesticks. We're totally out of food."

She shouldn't have been surprised; that disaster was bound to strike before long. She had never kept a large stockpile at home. It was a smaller miracle that the leftovers had lasted her a full week.

Her back against the cold metal, Lyra tried coming to terms with the fact. It was a really sour pill to swallow, as she didn't want her voluntary confinement to end. 

Not yet.

She wasn't ready for the world surrounding her house.

This despite having tried her best at preparing, too. The kitchen table was covered in hills of scattered papers; some full of scribbles, others featuring various flowcharts. All of them reminding Lyra of one singular fact.

There's so much to do once I go outside...

"Surely buying some groceries isn't a big risk," Snowy raised her head. She was lying on the stove, the only part of the room which Lyra hadn't touched during the last week. "Master could surely make a dash to the market and rush back safely!"

A wry grimace on her face, Lyra sighed and shook her head.

"It's not the groceries that worries me." She cocked her head to the side, bringing the windigo into her view. "I'm worried about the plan, Snowy."

Snowy narrowed her crimson eyes and shuffled around, reaching to scratch her neck.

"Well... there are some big unknowns," she mumbled, her gaze wandering from her master to a random spot on the wall. "To be honest with Master, I'm a bit worried myself. I'd rather not brave such a gamble until we know more about our big trick."

Her teeth sinking into her lip, Lyra gave the concern a deep, thoughtful nod. Over the course of the last week, she had spent at least one full day thinking about that one. The phenomenon she had dubbed the Big Trick; the trance-like few minutes when she overpowered Chrysalis.

The sheer possibility of her overpowering the Changeling Queen had puzzled Lyra. She may have remembered everything clearly, but the memories didn't help her either. The boost of power, the agility, the invincibility; those sensations, while arguably real, didn't bring her closer to any explanation.

Then Lyra remembered how Snowy had disappeared just before her 'supercharge' took place. That proved to be the most important piece of the puzzle. After that, she could also recall how cold she had felt all of a sudden. And the disturbing thoughts she'd had! That predatory voice in her head, that longing for the precious warmth...

For the span of a few moments, she became Snowy somehow.

No, that's not quite right. Lyra reminded herself. Snowy's too timid to be the mindless beast I almost turned into.

If Lyra had to make a guess, she would have bet on a feral windigo instead. One that didn't have much in the way of conscience or inhibition. One more in line with the terrifying reputation those monsters had.

Perhaps the monster that Snowy once used to be.

That could make sense.

Even so, Lyra couldn't deny that it was still a preposterous idea; a preposterous suggestion that explained everything. Windigos were ghosts; it stood to reason that ordinary attacks wouldn't harm them, not even the magical death-beam of Chrysalis. The incorporeal body could also account for the baffling boost in agility; ghosts wouldn't be affected by momentum or air resistance. Having a windigo sitting directly in her head could also explain the sudden surge of predatory thoughts.

There was only one problem with that theory: it didn't help in figuring out how she could repeat the Big Trick. No matter how many times they had tried, Lyra couldn't merge with Snowy again.

"It isn't a big deal," Lyra shook her head, casting aside the memories of repeated failures. "If things go well, we won't be needing such a risky thing anyway."

"Because good luck has been our staple so far," Snowy groaned. "Master, we can't bank on something like that! Not when there's a possibility of facing the Princess - who wields the powers of the Sun and is truly immortal! Master won't stand a chance without knowing how to turn into a similarly frightening monster herself!"

Raising an eyebrow, Lyra broke into a chuckle. A similarly frightening monster; she liked that description. She liked it a lot. Even if accidental, that was a rather insightful way to phrase the possibility.

The possibility of the absolute worst case scenario - a showdown in Canterlot.

"Then I'll improvise!" Lyra shrugged and pushed herself away from the fridge. 

I'll improvise really desperately - that was the other half of the remark, which she kept to herself.

"But-!" Snowy barked, only to be cut off after one single word.

"I'll hear no more of it." Lyra cast a stern glare at the windigo, then motioned with her nose. "Hop to it. We're going to buy some sweets... and have a chat with our crazy baker in the meantime."





"Uh, Master? Are we going to buy sweets first?"

Pacing towards the Sugarcube at the other end of the street, Lyra glanced around. There were many ponies around her; a fact she had to keep in mind while phrasing her answer.

"Buying sweets and settling the tab from last time," she mumbled under her breath. She also shook her torso, making her saddlebags rock around. Muffled clangs rang out; one of the bags had a brown coin purse in it, full of shiny bits.

The overdue payment from last time: a rather convenient excuse to make visiting Pinkie a priority.

That having been said, Lyra wasn't really planning to live on baked goods. She was way more interested in getting Pinkie on board with the plan. That became paramount once she recalled that Pinkie had a servant called Axiom.

Axiom, the spider who could weave memories.

It would have been really nice to remember this a few days ago, Lyra grumbled to herself, hanging her head low. Had she had known about Pinkie and Axiom, she wouldn't have had to strike a deal with the Source to get her memories back.

She also understood how that was nothing but a foolhardy fantasy, though. She had no way of knowing about those two. She had bumped into Pinkie an hour before the changelings attacked, so there was no mention of Axiom in her diary. Were it not for the Source's intervention, she couldn't have possibly remembered this detail.

Well, now was the time to make sure she wouldn't need another favour of the shady game master again.





"HEEY! Now that's a face I haven't seen in a while!"

As usual, Pinkie was overbearingly lively; she greeted Lyra with the subtlety of a ship horn.

Lyra's first reaction was to shudder and squint. She then took a deep breath, trying to ease the ringing in the aching ear. Contrary to her expectations, that only helped very little. Grumbling internally, she switched tactics and rubbed a hoof on her ear instead.

It was then she spotted the white cap on Pinkie's head. That surprised Lyra much more than it should have. She had rarely seen the pink pony do actual baking... then again, she wasn't the Sugarcube's most frequent customer either.

Oi, oi, oi... I'm like, getting really sidetracked here! she pursed her lips and derided herself. Focus, you doof.

"Aww, com'on. It hasn't been that long!" she finally returned the greeting, waving a hoof at the loud baker. Then she waved at the black spider too. "Hey to you too, Axiom."

Pinkie's servant wasn't having any of the friendly chat. He turned around with a loud huff and scampered to the corner without a single word.

Lyra wasn't heartbroken over the refusal - she simply shrugged in utter nonchalance. It was Pinkie who she had wanted to talk to anyway. So what if the eight-legged servant opted to stay out of the picture? That was fine by her.

Even better, actually!

She didn't mind not having an audience for this particular chat.

"Wait at the door," Lyra whispered to the windigo at her side.

Snowy gave one of her better impressions. She didn't answer back; she simply produced a deep bow and turned around in silence, returning to the entrance at a measured pace.

Now on her own, Lyra resumed her walk. She raised her eyebrows higher and higher as she closed in on the counter; as the distance decreased, it was progressively easier to see what Pinkie was up to.

The baker was knee-deep in some sort of dough. She was also more white than pink; anything not covered by her hat and apron was covered by flour instead.

Arriving to the counter, Lyra stared at the scene for a minute or two. Then she made one of her less thoughtful attempts at breaking the ice.

"Busy?"

"Nah. I'm simply rolling around!" Pinkie giggled and rolled the dough over. "I'm making rolls! Haaa, rolls!"

Lyra rolled her eyes. She had no idea why, but she felt her braincells line up at the nearest emergency exit.

"I'm rolling on the floor laughing," she snickered dryly and placed her front legs over the counter.

"You're standing at the counter." Pinkie turned her head to Lyra and wrinkled her eyebrows.

"I'm rolling on the floor laughing internally," Lyra groaned.

"I'm surprised there's enough space in there to roll around. I thought we were all marshmallows and twinkies inside!" Pinkie threw a wink. The conversation didn't seem to require her full attention; she didn't stop pounding the dough even as she talked. "So, what brings you back so soon? You only show up once a year usually. Is it about the tab from last time?"

A muffled clang was the answer. The small bag of coins jumped out of Lyra's saddlebag and landed on the counter; the brown texture accented by a faint hint of amber, as Lyra's unicorn magic had barely had time to dissipate.

"Whoa. That was a joke, you know!" Pinkie blinked. She was getting more involved in the chat; her legs slowed down, and she was only poking at the dough instead of flattening it. "Wasn't expecting you to actually pay me."

"To think Bon called me bad at economics," Lyra smirked wryly. She crossed her legs on the counter and laid her head onto them, staring at the baker with a disapproving expression. "Why did you think that I'd skip out on paying you, by the way? I may be a scatterbrain, but I'm absolutely no cheapskate."

"That kind of precision is really mean of you, you know! Are you trying to drive me into debt?" Pinkie eyed the brown coin-bag, a troubled grimace on her face. "If we start keeping proper accounts of everything... then how am I going to pay you back for saving my shop from the changelings? ...and, uh, me too. Yeah, let's not forget about me either. I feel kind of important to myself."

Lyra's head bounced up. After her recent experiences, finding a grateful pony seemed like an unlikely event.

"How do you...?"

"That gangster with a heart of gold, over there." Pinkie yanked on her nose, motioning at the corner where Axiom was fuming in silence.

Barely turning her head, Lyra sneaked a quick glance at the spider.

"Him? But... how?"

After their previous meeting, it seemed unlikely that Axiom would vouch for her.

"Oh. Sill in the figuring phrase?" Pinkie blinked. She looked pretty surprised at Lyra's lack of understanding. "Well, you see... servants are kinda immune to each other's power. At least that's what Axiom told me."

Urgh. That sure would have been nice to learn earlier, Lyra rubbed her head with a heavy sigh. Why did I get the only servant who doesn't remember anything?!

"Anyway, since Axiom can make memories, it was easy-peasy to get myself restored!" Pinkie giggled, then put a hoof to her chin. "Ah, while we're talking about memories. Next time, could you at least let me know before you muck with my head? Write a mail, maybe? Stick a post-it to the front door?"

Lyra bit onto her tongue. So, in the end, even the sole grateful pony is mad at me… figures.

Despite the wry laughter in her head, Lyra didn’t feel like laughing at all. She gave a sombre grimace and leaned forward instead, shifting her torso onto her crossed legs.

Here goes nothing, she thought and swallowed. Her throat, her mouth, her entire being felt dry; she was so nervous that she could almost jump out of her skin.

She was taking a leap of faith, and the idea didn't really improve her spirit. She had to try before Pinkie got really angry at her, though.

Pinkie, you are the only one who will know. So please don't be mad at me...!

"Memories... they are exactly why I came, actually." Lyra squeezed the words out, her amber eyes narrowing on Pinkie. "I am going to... well, I'll have to repeat this performance. And when I do, I'll need you to... err, make me remember everything."

Pinkie blinked. For a little while, only utter confusion mirrored in her blue eyes. She started getting a grip on the situation afterwards though, evident by the widening grin on her face.

"Oooh, heavy stuff. I like heavy stuff!" she giggled and returned to plastering the dough. "Let me just finish this batch first, m'okay? Then we can discuss. A mare's gotta have priorities!"

Funny. I was just about to say that, Lyra drooped her ears with a groan.





"It was you who got me out of jail?!" Lyra jolted. Her concentration slipped, and her cup of hot chocolate almost landed on the floor. "But-!"

"But, but, BUT? But what? Oh, wait - you thought those colts in the barracks actually read books?" Pinkie pat her guest on the head, her last word almost drowning in her laughter. "Hahahah! Lyra, you silly pony, you! Had I not made that sarge-whoever remember about Chrissy, he'd still be convinced that the soul-devouring alicorn was only fantasy. Which would be an awfully rude way to treat the almighty Queen of Changelings, wouldn't you say? I couldn't let that slide!"

"Yeah, that'd have been... bad." Lyra forced an absent-minded smile, her eyes glued to the steaming cup on front of her. Up until now, she was completely convinced that it was the Source who had freed her from jail.

She did find it strange, having the eccentric game master rushing to her aid so openly.

All the muscles in her face flexing, Lyra started feeling pretty concerned about the blank contract she had signed. That game master seemed to have less and less goodwill by the moment.

Pinkie didn't interrupt her musing. The pink baker took a sip from her own cup of chocolate, then started munching on a slice of strawberry cake.

It was that prolonged silence which tipped Lyra off, actually.

Still waiting for me to say something? Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Pretty patient for who's basically the poster pony for tripping on a caffeine overdose.

"Shouldn't that make us even?" she glanced at the pink pony. She then rose the cup to her mouth, taking her turn to drink. She didn't really like the hot chocolate all that much - it was way too sweet and syrupy for her tastes. But it was a great way to show that she was done talking.

She got a barrage of nonsense thrown at her for her trouble.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Are you trying to make a fool of me, Lyra? I thought we were friends!" Pinkie pouted, her cheeks trembling. "Friends don't do these kinda' things! Do you know what friends do? They stop each other from overeating! They stand behind you and nag you - 'but Pinkie, that's the tenth slice already'! As if I couldn't count. Well, surprise - I CAN! I simply like eating sweet things, you see? I can't overeat, though - and that's what most ponies don't understand. I can only all-eat. As long as there's something on the table with some sugar in it, it has my name on it."

"Uh... huh?" Lyra gave a hesitant nod. She had absolutely no idea what Pinkie was on about, but she couldn’t interject either. She didn’t want to risk upsetting the crazy baker.

"So as you can see, I know a professional eater when I see one. And Chrissy... I can tell she's a very good eater. Almost like a kindred soul to me. HISS! YUMMY SOULS! GIMME' MORE! HISSS!" Pinkie bared her teeth, acting like a vampire from a Z-category movie.

"You do remember Chrysalis pretty well." Lyra chuckled darkly, finally understanding the twisting and turning path Pinkie's mind had taken. "She did say something like she wouldn't stop as long as there were ponies left to eat. Because she enjoyed devouring them... and also as a dig at Celestia."

They both fell silent; there was nothing more to say about the topic. Both ponies stared at one another for a while, then raised their cups and sipped some chocolate in sync.

"Anyway, there's no 'getting even' between us. Friendship isn't a score-based game!" Pinkie set her cup back onto the table, taking a pause so she could lick the brown spots off her lips. "You only wish it was that clearly defined."

Her cup still floating in front of her nose, Lyra tilted her head forward and narrowed her eyes.

"Stop right there, Pinkie. Let's get one thing out of the way! You shouldn't think of me as a friend."

Pinkie didn't seem to understand the remark. She blinked wildly and cocked her head to the side, her fluffy mane dangling freely.

Oi! You're really making this hard on me, Lyra rubbed her nose with the rim of the cup. Well, it's not like I won't be asking something outrageous of you in turn... so this could be karma, I guess.

"I don't have friends. I don't need friends." She explained, her tone as calm and firm as her throat was capable of making. "Just help me with this gig, that's all I'm asking. You do that, and then we can go our separate ways, two happy ponies."

"You just went full emo. You never go full emo," Pinkie groaned loudly, covering her face in her hooves. "Everypony needs friends."

Peeking up from behind the cup floating in front of her face, Lyra gritted her teeth and steeled herself.

This isn't going anywhere. Time to stop beating around the bush.

"Even so, you and I surely won't be friends after you hear my proposal!" she chuckled dryly, cutting Pinkie off. She then took a longer pause, purely for the sake of dramatics; she even found the time to lower the cup back onto the table, touching it down with extreme care. She was still looking at the white porcelain by the time she resumed talking. "I... I'm going to break one of your friends, Pinkie. Badly. Pretty badly."

"You what." Pinkie squinted and leaned forward. "Did you really just say what I think I have heard you just say?"

"Not for my amusement! It'll be for the greater good. For the sake of a better world," Lyra rushed the words out as she exhaled, her hoof pushing her cup across the table. She ground her teeth against each other and glanced up, staring Pinkie straight in the eyes. "I don't expect you to like me for proposing this, but please! At least hear me out."

Pinkie held a hoof to her chin and hummed.

"Okaaay... so I think I'm a little confused. Explain it in a way that this simple baker can understand!" she shook her head, holding her hooves in the air. "What's this 'better world' you're talking about? And how is it better if the ingredients include broken friends?"

"Ingredient... haha. That's one way to look at it!" Lyra chuckled and rubbed her temple. "Try to ignore that bit for now. Look at the big picture... look at what I'm trying to achieve."

Pinkie dropped her legs and squinted with disbelief.

"All you've said is 'better world'. Am I supposed to know what that is?"

Lyra shook her head, her mane flapping against her neck.

"Not yet. But it isn't hard to grasp," she explained silently and slowly, refining her chosen words as she talked. "I want a world that has no need for our servants."

She furrowed her forehead and winced. Despite having planned this conversation for hours, she still couldn't express herself properly. A 'better world' - such an easy concept in her head, yet so difficult to put into words. The thoughts seemed to twist and lose meaning on the way from her brain to her mouth.

"Oh-hoo. So like... a place so perfect that nopony feels like changing it? A bunch of masters who can only have their servants laze around." Pinkie hummed, her hoof idly rubbing the bottom of her chin. "Haha! That's difficult to even imagine!" 

Breaking into a dark chuckle, Lyra resumed poking her cup around the table. Of course it's difficult, duh.

"I can do it. I'm certain that I can do it," she declared with a toothy grin. "I've got a plan."

The grin was a lie Lyra had to force onto herself. It would have been a fine act, too - if only her nervousness didn't ruin everything. The anxiety was too high in her system, and in finding a way to keep herself together, Lyra's idle poking of the cup became too strong. She toppled the cup, sending the lukewarm chocolate flowing all over the table. She didn't jump at the spill, though. She remained stoic, staring at the overturned cup as if nothing had happened.

"I'm the only one who can make it work," she muttered and then jolted, bouncing away from the table. The sight of the spilled chocolate had just reached her mind. "Whoa-!"

"Dun' wovvy!" Pinkie yelled from behind the counter. She popped up seconds later, her mouth full of a rag. She dashed back to the table and flung the rag onto it, covering everything - cups, slices of pie and free-flowing chocolate.

Lyra took over from that point. She used her magic to work the rag, dragging it around until the table had been scrubbed more or less clean.

"So... want another cup?" Pinkie pointed at the overturned cup. "Or would you prefer something else while you explain this plan of yours?"





"I know you're really into the whole hero thing... but you do know there's no overtime pay for this gig, right?" Pinkie rubbed her temple with a sigh. "I can't help but notice that you've progressed from breaking one of my friends to three."

"Pffft, please. Celestia's your friend? Luna too?" Lyra folded her legs and cocked her head to the side. "That's funny. Wasn't there a changeling attack precisely because they hung us out to dry?"

She took a vanilla roll and bit into two, her eyes narrowing as anger twisted her face.

Pinkie shuddered under that glare. She quickly poured herself some cocoa; an obvious pretence for turning away.

"I'm sure they've had their reasons," Pinkie muttered once she had placed the kettle back onto the table. "I know Celestia and she isn't a bad pony. She wouldn't-"

"She ordered the whole Guard back to Canterlot, just before the changelings came. She turned us all into changeling-fodder!" Lyra snorted and grimaced in disgust. "That's what she has done, Pinkie. That's a fact. So do allow me to not give a hoot about her supposed reasons!"

Taking a trembling breath, Lyra watched her half-eaten roll float in front of her.

"I wonder if you would be so lenient, had you been there yourself. If you had walked among the lifeless bodies," she mused sourly. She couldn't maintain her calm appearance; her anger was too great to suppress. It was gripping at her jaws, seeping into her voice. "I wonder what you would think had I ran away instead of putting my life on the line! Then you could have seen all the ponies here die, simply because a princess had deemed their lives less important than a freaking wedding! Seriously, do you think the changelings would have given anypony quarter? Of course not! Even those precious Mr and Mrs Cake of yours would have..."

Biting onto her tongue hard, Lyra yanked a hoof in front of her mouth. A useless gesture; she was too late. She got carried away and may have crossed an important line there.

A quite important line, if Pinkie's reaction was anything to go by. The pink baker was paralysed. She held still, her nose covered in the steam rising from her hot cocoa.

Real suave… ugh. Lyra cringed, pushing her hooves against her nose. I’m not going to convince anypony by threatening them.

"I'm so sorry," she stammered, burying her face in her hooves. "I didn't mean to say that. It just kind of... slipped out. I'm so sorry!"

The apology worked - Pinkie began moving again. First only her lips twitched, but then she turned away, humming, obviously lost in her thoughts. She didn't deliberate too lengthily; before long, she was twisting her neck until her gaze met Lyra's.

The normally happy-go-lucky pony looked remarkably sober.

"No, it's okay. You're right." Pinkie muttered, then shook her head with a dry giggle. "I haven't been there. I saw a little of the aftermath, but I... I can't think about it like you do. Mrs. Cake... it's strange, you know? Thinking of ourselves as targets of opportunity. Haha..."

Her ambiguous grin turning into a full-fledged smirk, Pinkie gave Lyra a hearty nod. Her curly mane bounced, almost swept the cup in front of her. That didn't hamper the pink pony's sudden enthusiasm, though; by the time their gazes met again, Pinkie's eyes were twinkling.

"OK! I'm game."





"I'll be counting on you," Lyra stated flatly. She then walked out the door, her windigo in tow.

A creek and a slam; those were all the farewells that had been exchanged.

Had that been a run-the-mill customer, Pinkie would have started scheming about the ways she could teach that pony some manners. Lyra was anything but a regular pony, though. So Pinkie simply stood behind the table in silence, the sweet rolls and her heavy thoughts her sole company.

Then a grumpy voice butted into her silent trance.

"I told ya' they're trouble, Boss."

The disapproving statement could only reach Pinkie with a delay. She reacted similarly slowly, too; she was virtually dragging her nose towards the black spider. She was so absent-minded that she was barely aware of her own actions.

"And don't get me started about that 'plan'! That ain't nothing but wishful thinking!" Axiom yelled, two of his eight legs holding the sides of his head. "These grasshoppers ain't got no chance against one princess! And there's two of 'em in Canterlot!"

"Weren't you listening? Lyra's got that angle covered." Pinkie sighed and reached for a sweet roll. She had heard too much; she needed some sugar to offset the bleak reality looming ahead of her.

"Covered HOW?!" Axiom shrieked, slamming another two legs onto his head. "Boss, seriously! Ya' can't go along with that! That plan ain't proper! Breaking an apprentice to throw the master off-balance... that ain't no better than attacking family! And if there's somethin' that's taboo, it's family!"

Chewing slowly and methodically, Pinkie bobbed her head up and down.

"I dun' like it eider," she mumbled with her mouth full. She turned her nose towards the ceiling and gulped; the roll wouldndidn't want to slide all the way down. She struggled for a while, then panted once her mouth was free. The first thing she did afterwards was pour the cup of cold cocoa down her throat.

"Then don't play along with 'em, Boss." Axiom growled. He removed the legs from his head and folded them in front of him. Even though he had no eyebrows, his dissatisfaction was plain as day.

"Sure thing. I'll just waltz over to Lyra this evening and call the whole thing off!" Pinkie leaned onto the table, her eyes rolling. "Then I'll come home and live happily ever-after! ...or right until the next disaster which leaves us scrambling to save the day. I wonder what it'll be! Dragons? Were-rabbits? Door-to-door salesponies with a misguided sense of appropriate presentation methods? Or perhaps changelings parading as door-to-door salesponies?"

She rolled her head to the side, only stopping when she heard loud clangs. Her mane brushed against the plate of rolls, shoving the whole thing to the side. They didn't fall off the table though, so she wasn't too worried about their relocation.

"I'm so thrilled to see what unnatural disaster will mark my transformation into a hero," she mumbled, her nose resting sideways on her leg. "So, do you think my two families will be okay when that happens, Axiom? Dad, Ma', Maud, the Cakes... they’re less than a dozen ponies altogether. What are they in the grand scheme of things? Would our careless god interrupt this game, just to spare them?"

There was a shuffling of legs. Pinkie didn't turn that way - she knew there was no need to. Rightly so, as Axiom appeared in her view before long. The spider was standing on the table opposing hers, his yellow eyes staring at her.

"I dun' think the Big Boss is that much evil," he stated. He tried to sound reassuring, but he clearly lacked the conviction to do so. His tone was much closer to apologetic.

"Doesn't need to be," Pinkie forced a weak smile and closed her eyes half-way. "We mortals are frail little beings, Axiom... tons of tiny eggs in a basket. Search furiously enough, and you are most certain to break a few."

Axiom scratched his head, most probably looking for an appropriate rebuttal. He came up short; some half-hearted humming was all he had managed to say.

"Guess I can see why ya'd want this game over ASAP, Boss." He finally conceded with a shrug. "Just remember - it ain't hard to get burnt when yer' playin' with fire."

Still resting on the table, Pinkie gave her servant a tired grin.

"Didn't you know? Fire and bakers go hoof-in-hoof," she giggled, then pushed herself off the table with a groan. "All-right! Let's do this. Axiom, I want Trixie Lulamoon to remember that she needs to meet with Lyra. And make sure she knows this message was deliberately planted by us! Wouldn't want her to misunderstand our intentions."

Axiom bowed in reverence, then yanked a quill and a small parchment into two of his many limbs.

"Sure thang', Boss. One appointment, comin' right up!"





"Well... now everything is in motion." Lyra sighed. She unlocked the belt and her saddlebags crashed to the floor. The heavy landing cracked one open, spilling its content onto the floor; a heap of oranges rolled in various directions, bouncing against the walls and each other.

Lyra observed the mini-mayhem with a wry grin. Then, once all the oranges had stopped, she absent-mindedly grabbed one and peeled it.

The sour smell hit her nose the moment she tore into the thick skin. Even though it was wringing her nose, she couldn't help but salivate anyway. She had been living - borderline starving - on canned vegetables for a week. Fruits were a refreshing change.

She bit into the orange, and the sour-sweet taste flooded her mouth. It was still impossible to eat an orange with dignity, though. Fat drops of juice raced past her mouth, staining her neck and dropping onto the floor as well. She wrinkled her eyebrows in disapproval. The wooden floor was somewhat delicate; she didn't want to tarnish lacquer.

Bon had always scolded her whenever she ate outside the kitchen for that exact reason.

Bon...

Staring at the remaining half of the orange, Lyra felt her expression soften. She shook her head and gave the distant memories a dark chuckle.

I'm sorry, Bon... but it's better that you don't know me now. Soon enough, I'll be the most hated villain Equestria has ever known.

She stuffed the orange into her mouth and began walking. She could feel tiny bumps as she moved; the loose oranges were getting knocked around by her hooves.

That's right. Lyra mused. Her gaze was solid as steel; she could feel her fears losing their grip on her. Guess I’ll be a hero after all... doing the right thing despite nopony ever recognizing it.

She crossed the doorway and looked around. The kitchen was still a disorganized mess, but that was all right. She paced to the table and began shuffling through the papers aimlessly. She wasn't looking for anything in particular - she just wanted to have the reassuring notion that she had accounted for most probabilities. That she had given it her best. That it wouldn't be a pointless endeavour.

I'll save everypony from this wicked game! Even if I have to cast everything aside in the process!

"Master?"

Giving the rummage a pause, Lyra twisted her neck and peeked behind her back. 

Snowy was staring at her from the doorway. The windigo's head was tilted to the side, clearly pondering if Lyra was still all right in the head.

"I'm fine." Lyra flashed a half-hearted smile and returned her attention to the table. The false sense of security she had sought was nowhere to be found, though. All she could see were a bunch of papers. Hopes and unfinished calculations.

"If Master says so..." Snowy mumbled and took her spot next to the table. She scanned the pile of scribbled papers with a decidedly troubled glare. "I still say it was early to make our move. There are so many possibilities we haven't considered yet."

Lyra accepted that complaint with a loud moan. She had some doubts herself, there was no denying that. She dug a hoof into the pile of paper and stirred. The papers crumpled and shifted around; some fell off the table even, dropping to the floor in a slow, swaying motion.

"Don't worry so much, Snowy. This is good enough. We're good enough," Lyra exclaimed and retrieved a paper at random. "As long as there's a will, there's always a way."

Snowy frowned and looked away, obviously of a different opinion.

"Trixie moved out of town after her show was over," Lyra continued to talk as she studied the piece of paper. "This means we've got a few extra days before the real action starts. Might as well spend it honing the plan instead of worrying whether we should have already begun, don't you think?"





"This would be so much easier if we had another servant with us," Snowy whined. She was lying on the stove with her hooves on the top of her head, trying to be as flat as possible. "They would surely recall more than me."

"Well, too bad I don't have another servant who answers to me, right?" Lyra tried to silence the continuous barrage of negativity with a piercing glare.

"Couldn't have Master asked Axiom?" Snowy proposed in a hushed tone. "Master seems to be on good terms with Pinkie, so..."

Lyra shook her head. She had considered and rejected that option already.

"Pinkie may be helping me for now, but there are lines she wouldn't cross. There's no telling how she'll react once she sees me crossing them," she sighed and rubbed her face. Her eyes were watering; the strain was getting to her. It was night outside, and despite the many candles, she was struggling to read. The flickering, yellowish light was so weak that she had to work her eyes to their limit.

When those candle-flames were not being harassed by a gluttonous windigo, that is.

"True." Snowy nodded, and scratched the back of her neck, shifting around in discomfort. "Most ponies would reach for the pitchforks if they saw Master releasing Discord."

Staring at the paper floating in front of her, Lyra just barely subdued a snicker. Indeed, most ponies wouldn't consider releasing the draconequus a sensible idea. Though then again, most ponies were woefully ignorant about a lot of things that affected them. Virtually nopony knew about the servants - or, in fact, the whole game at large.

Lyra no longer allowed the judgement of such clueless masses impede her.

"Discord should be no big deal if my theory is correct," she smiled confidently and poked at the paper. "See, I've written down all the servants we've met. Axiom, the spider who can create memories from scratch. Sloth, the dragon who can erase feelings... and Origin, the gryphon who can conjure objects out of thin air. And you, of course - the windigo who causes pinpoint amnesia."

"Hmm. I guess I could make Discord forget about himself if he's too much of a pain," Snowy pondered out loud, her crimson eyes glued to the ceiling. "Then Axiom could make him think he's a good guy."

"Haha, you just described my contingency plan!" Lyra threw the windigo a wink. "Not bad - not bad at all! But that wasn't my point. I wanted to show you how all the servants share a few common traits."

Snowy seemed pretty interested. She cocked her head and perked her ears, listening to her master with complete devotion.

"Since this is a game, I guess the Source must have been trying to be fair. So far, every player we've met had a servant with some ridiculously broken power, right? But I was thinking, ‘there’s got to be more to it’," Lyra explained as she walked closer to the windigo. "I sought some logic in this madness. You see, all these powers seemed so random at first. I mean, c'mon on! Erasing memories? Creating objects? Erasing feelings? How does that even make sense?"

She paused and turned back to the table.

"Then just like, BAM! I've had this idea."

Lyra flipped the paper around, revealing a three-by-three grid. It was half-empty, only four names scribbled into various cells.

"Turns out, your powers are not as bonkers as I first thought. They follow a pretty simple distribution." Lyra giggled as she pushed the paper into Snowy's face. "It seems like servants are all-powerful only in a narrow, well-defined field. They can either create, alter or destroy... and the subject of their power will be either memories, feelings or tangible objects."

"Seems pretty arbitrary." Snowy squinted at the hastily scribbled notes. Her eyes sprang wide and she motioned at a name with a pleased grin. "Ooh! That's my name there!"

"It seems arbitrary because it probably is," Lyra placed to the paper next to the windigo. "These powers... I bet they come from the same source. It's like somepony took an omnipotent god and chopped it into nine parts."

She paced to the back of the kitchen and leaned against the wall. She stared at the white paint with glassy eyes, then turned her gaze back around, giving her windigo an evil grin.

"Don't suppose you know anypony who's omnipotent, right? Anypony who's also connected to this game?"

"Of course I do; the Source." Snowy rubbed her forehead with a leg. "The one who created all of us..."

Lyra gave that answer a curt nod. She was of the same mind.

"Maybe retrieving that omnipotent power is what all this nonsense is about," she mused as her magic lifted a peeled orange from the desk. "But you know what? I no longer care what this game is supposed to be about."

The orange floated to her face and Lyra took a slice into her mouth, chewing as she worked the gears in her mind.

Once I have enough servants under my command... once there are no players who could throw a wrench into my plans... then I'll be like a god unto myself.

Following that train of thought, freeing Discord was no big deal indeed. She simply had to dupe the mad chaos god into doing her a favour - and then stall him until she could collect some servants. Once she had successfully done that, even someone as powerful as Discord would be of no importance. At that point, she would be free to reform the world to her own image.

Taking another slice of orange into her mouth, Lyra felt pretty pleased by her cunning plan.





"Fancy restaurant," Trixie whistled. She kept her eyes on the waitress for a while, then let her gaze wander around the empty building.

"Kind of creepy without anypony else being around, though!" Origin shifted around. The ghostly gryphon looked uncomfortable; he was sitting next to his master, only a few inches short of huddling to Trixie's side.

"Good point." Trixie paid her servant a nod and shifted her gaze to Lyra. "You live here, don't you? Is this place going out of business or something?"

"Quite the opposite!" Lyra giggled behind the cover of her hoof. "They're so popular, the entire restaurant was booked by a small-time celebrity."

She leaned forward and grinned devilishly, even going as far as to wink. It wasn't strictly necessary, but she wouldn't want a perfectly good flaunt go over Trixie's head.

"Oooh." Trixie's went wide. "Trixie had no idea that musicians make this kind of money!"

Because we don't, Lyra cringed internally. Booking the whole restaurant for a few hours took a sizeable chunk of her savings. It wasn't even for a good reason - she could have just as well had the discussion at her place.

She had simply taken the opportunity to realize one of her long-time desires; she had always wanted to book a whole restaurant for herself, just like the big stars did. She simply wanted to know how it felt. Her days of normalcy were coming to an end anyway; she might as well enjoy them to the fullest.

"Pinkie really should have mentioned something about this!" Trixie sighed and took her pointy wizard hat off, throwing it on a nearby table. "Trixie never had a whole restaurant to herself. Not since the one she had accidentally set on fire."

"Well, this place doesn't allow shooting fireworks inside!" Snowy blurted out in a panicking hurry. She then retreated under the table, three pairs of angry eyes glaring at her.

Well, at least now she's recognizing when she's being awkward. Lyra gave her aching head a light massage. That's good... I guess?

"Aaaanyway." Trixie rolled her eyes and took her cape off. The cape, caught in the vice of her magenta magic, floated to the table where the wizard hat was already resting. "To what does Trixie owe this urgent and... well... unusual communique? You didn't even come to Trixie's last show, despite Trixie's request that you should. But now that she moved so far away... now you send a psychic message?"

"Ah, yes. I couldn't make it to your show... sorry about that. I was kinda occupied. But believe it or not, I plan to make up for that mistake right now." Lyra took up a warm smile and removed her hoof from her face. "Say, Trixie - did you ever want to be the greatest magician in Equestria?"

Whatever Trixie had been expecting, that sure wasn't it. Her jaw dropped and she froze completely, forgetting to even blink. Not even her own servant could snap her out of her stupor; she didn't react, no matter how loudly Origin cleared his throat.

Lyra knew what the servant was so nervous about. There was a momentary suspension of privacy; the waitress was returning. The green unicorn came out of the kitchen, carrying a greatly oversized plate above her head. She crossed the maze of tables even faster than last time, and placed the plate on Lyra's table; then she gave a respectful bow and hurried away.

"Pretty skilful." Lyra clacked her tongue and grabbed one of the mugs from the plate, raising it into the air. "Cheers!"

Trixie was starting to come to. She blinked and moved her eyes, staring at the other mug with a vacant expression. It took her a while to recognize the item; then she grabbed it with her magic.

"Uh... yes. Cheers..." she mumbled. She simply held onto the mug; apparently, she was still too confused to drink.

Lyra enjoyed the stunned silence. It was a clear signal; she was sure that deep down, Trixie had already accepted the offer. 

Haha... it's nice to see Trixie's still clinging to her dream. You know, I was really worried she got over her spar with Twilight.

Trixie recovered from her befuddlement not long after. She blinked rapidly and took a gulp from her cider, drinking as if she had been camping in the desert for the last few days. Then she slammed the mug back onto the table with an utter lack of care, almost sending the mug tumbling away.

"How would you do that?" she leaned toward Lyra, unmasked greed dripping from her voice. The glitter in her eyes further reinforced how intent she really was. "Making Trixie the greatest magician... you, a mere musician?"

Lyra curled her lips into a triumphant smile. That trick worked better than she assumed it would.

Hook, line and sinker.

"I could make you Celestia's favoured student," she explained with a forcibly cool tone. Bouncing around and giggling like an amateur wouldn't have done her any favours. She needed to act like a professional, to bedazzle Trixie to the point where the magician couldn't possibly refuse.

"Celestia's favoured...!" Trixie gawked. She leaned forward so much that she was practically climbing onto the table. "But how? Twilight is-"

"Crazy powerful, yes. That doesn't make her immune to Snowy's powers though!" Lyra motioned at the crimson eyes hiding under the table. "Remember our last chat? You said that it would be trivial to take over the world with Snowy. Well... I agree with you now."

Lyra paused for a moment. She wanted Trixie to follow her, to understand her; she wanted her words to sink in.

"I'm now putting that potential to use," she put it as plainly as she could.

The act was a complete success. Trixie pulled back and gulped, visibly overwhelmed by the proposal. She reached for her mug, then put it back on the table, then yanked it up again and gulped the rest of the cider in one go.

"Indeed... you do have the means," Trixie mused, staring into the empty mug of hers. She jolted and snapped her head to Lyra, her eyebrows wrinkled. "But why would you do that for Trixie? Raising a hoof to Celestia's student is no laughing matter. Should you be found out..."

Lyra didn't let up on the self-confident smirk. She didn't even miss a beat; she had expected the question and had her answers prepared and memorized.

"I won’t be doing this because of your charming smile, of course. I expect to get paid for assisting with your... promotion," she explained nonchalantly. "I will need you to forge me a special contract. A magical one."

"Magic? Ha! Trixie now sees why you thought of her!" Trixie broke into a loud, boastful cackle. She realized her mistake a second later and slammed a hoof onto her mouth, turning her head around with a feeble expression. Her concerns were needless; the Four Clovers was still empty. Not even the waitress was around. Trixie registered the fact with a relieved sigh, almost collapsing onto the table.

"Great. I'll need a Geis contract scroll." Lyra stated her explicit demand in the firmest tone. "A blank one...!"

"A... Geis?!" Trixie gasped. She did collapse onto the table this time, covering her head with her hooves. "Those are incredibly complicated! Just designing a Geis takes years! How could Trixie procure something like that on such short order? And what's more - a blank one...!"

You're pretty honest for a vengeful magician, Lyra observed the miniature mental collapse. You also seem to have issues thinking outside the box.

Humming to herself, Lyra made a mental note to record that small flaw into her diary. It would probably become useful later. While Trixie had no idea, Lyra was sure they'd butt heads later on. It was unlikely that Celestia's new favoured student would sit idly and simply watch the princess go down.

That confrontation was inevitable, after all; Lyra needed the servants Pinkie had seen in Canterlot. Sure, it was possible that Celestia would agree to her plan and give her the servants without much fuss... but after the repeated attempts on her life, Lyra wasn't holding her breath.

"You don't need to design one," Lyra shook her head. "Just ask your servant to summon one. He knows how they look! The Source uses them all the time, after all."

Trixie looked as if a divine messenger had descended from the skies and given her a proclamation. She was bereft of words; she gaped silently at Lyra and then at her servant. She was staring at the ghostly gryphon for so long that Origin started to look uncomfortable. The green gryphon giggled and shirked away from the inquisitive gaze.

"I can do that. It's no problem!" he put his paws into the air, using both words and body language to calm his master. "But a Geis scroll isn't something Master should take lightly. Summoning an object of that complexity will be require a fitting toll."

"Do it!" Trixie rattled. "Trixie doesn't care what it takes! Trixie must have that scroll! Right now!"

"Master, this is a public restaurant." Origin pointed a claw upwards. "I'll gladly obey Master, but... this order is stupid. Should I proceed, Master will be doing a lot of screaming and bleeding. In a secluded place, that's probably fine... but here?"

The warning worked; Trixie recoiled with a mighty cringe.

Bleeding and screaming, huh... Lyra narrowed her eyes. She rose the mug to her face, mostly in an attempt to conceal her thoughtful expression. Sounds like physical damage. Which would make sense... Snowy eats into my memories whenever she tampers with somepony's head. So to summon objects, Origin probably takes a sacrifice from the body instead.

Another thing that would go into her diary as soon as she got home.

"Right.... right. You're right. Trixie got a little ahead of herself." Trixie nodded absent-mindedly. She must have started thinking really hard, as the bobbing wouldn't stop. She kept bouncing her head up and down as if it was a yoyo.

Watching the magician agonize over the available choices, Lyra felt pretty conflicted. On one hoof, that sight was utterly ridiculous. She wouldn't want make such a spectacle, period. On the other hoof, she also envied Trixie; she had never considered her choices with such depth. She had always made split-second decisions - and considering her time with Snowy, such quick-thinking had not really worked out well so far.

"Right. This is what we're going to do." Trixie mumbled once she put the oscillation of her head to a stop. "Trixie will finish this meal... and then return to her wagon. And by tomorrow morning, you will have your Geis scroll. That's surely good enough, yes?"

Grinning smugly, Lyra raised her mug and clanged it against the empty one of Trixie.

"You've got yourself a deal... future first student!" she chuckled with a deep, almost guttural tone. "That's only my payment, however. For this... performance, I'll need one more gadget."

There was no hesitation from Trixie this time.

"Doesn't matter. List your demands! Whatever you need, Trixie will provide!"
> 33 - Betrayed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Splinters of wood flew as Lyra's hoof crashed against the door. She banged again and again, louder and louder each time. It was the most savage announcement she had ever made; it left her hoof tingling with pain.

That was a very convincing argument that she ought to take a little break.

Massaging her aching leg with the other hoof, Lyra sat down and waited. Nothing better to do, she idly raised her nose and ran her gaze up the bark of the humongous tree-house. It's been so long since I've last come here, she thought and sighed.

Huh... was it really that long?

She worked the gears in her head, counting the days and nights. Her last visit to the Golden Oak was about two weeks ago, give or take some days. She broke into a sombre chuckle at the realization.

It certainly felt longer to her.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Stop trying to break the door already! Who is it?!"

The question came from the other side of the door, and Lyra was sure the voice was feminine.

Answering the knocks yourself... ah-ha! This means your pet dragon isn't around! Lyra licked the corner of her lip. Splendid.

"I'm Lyra!" she yelled, squeezing all the air from her lungs. The loudness was likely an overkill; she was standing right next to the door, her face pushing against the painted wood. Even so, she wanted to make extra sure that she was heard and understood. "Lyra Heartstrings. You may have heard of me!"

She fell silent squeezed her lower lip between her teeth. She didn't even breathe; she remained perfectly still in a bid to hear the answer more clearly. All she heard was her heart pounding away.

She was really anxious. She wasn't expecting Snowy to have made a mistake, but there was no room for errors either.

"Lyra?" the librarian finally asked from the other side of the door. Despite the layer of wood muffling her voice, the confusion was clear in Twilight's tone. "I... don't think I know you. Sorry, but the library's closed right now. Come back tom- I mean next week."

Turning her head slightly, Lyra threw her windigo a subtle nod.

Well done.

Owing to her previous mishap involving Twilight, Lyra had decided to play it safe this time. She couldn't afford to make a scene - so she'd had Twilight completely forget about her. 

"I'm not here to borrow a book." Lyra pushed her face back against the door. She had to use all her acting skills to keep her voice constant. As she found, sounding as if she wasn't anxious was quite stressing. "I brought you a message."

No answer came. No matter how much she focused on her ears, Lyra couldn't hear any answer coming from the other side of the door. The pause wasn't to her liking. She couldn't afford to sit in the Golden Oak's door for too long.

While far from the afternoon rush traffic, the street behind her had a fair number of ponies milling about. Quite a few of those were already staring at her, obviously wondering just what she was doing.

Come on, Twi! Lyra hissed and ran her gaze down a few of the onlookers. Attention was the last thing she needed. Let me in already...!

"A message." Twilight finally broke her silence. Judging by how incredulous she sounded, she was probably also shaking her head in disbelief. "From whom?"

"From her highness Princess Celestia," Lyra made the boldest lie of her life. She could barely stifle the nervous grin. "From what I was told, it's pretty urgent too... so, uh, could you please take it from me already?"





"Funny..." Twilight hummed and eyed the rolled-up parchment. The wax-sealed paper floated directly in front of her, suspended by her magenta magic. "Celestia has never used messengers before."

"The Princess moves in mysterious ways," Lyra mumbled. She was holding her head backwards, trying to get the lock on her saddlebags to close. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

She felt glad that she was looking away. She was a passable actress at best - and this lie would have needed a pro to utter with a straight face.

That parchment was far from being unknown to Lyra. It was, in fact, the centrepiece of her plan.

It was a mere letter on the outside, just like the thousands of others Princess Celestia had written before. The wax seal, the parchment, the ink; had anypony checked those, everything would have seemed genuine. Indeed, this particular letter bore no difference from the rest.

Apart from one tiny detail: the fact that Celestia had absolutely nothing to do with it.

This letter had been conjured by Trixie's servant, less than a day ago. To Origin, a servant who could create any sort of matter, replicating an official letter was a trivial effort. All Trixie had to do was to take a close look at one at the Major's office.

"The seal looks proper," Twilight inspected the brown wax closely. "The paper is also of the right texture... huh... this thing is official."

"Oi! The mere suggestion offends me!" Lyra snorted loudly and slammed her hoof onto the floor. "What did you think? That us couriers mess with the packages we're entrusted with?"

Twilight jolted at the sudden accusation. She lowered the parchment and blinked ashamedly, avoiding to so much as look near Lyra.

"Well, I... no, I didn't mean anything like that," she stammered. She was in discomfort; her hoof waded through her mane, scratching the back of her neck. "It was just... I don't know, it was strange. Celestia has always sent messages through Spike. Why a courier all of a sudden?"

"Maybe it's confidential," Lyra shrugged, her voice as uncaring and nonchalant as she was capable of sounding. "I mean, it sounded like a big deal. Celestia told me that I can't leave that scroll alone until I've seen you break the seal. Personally - and without anypony else looking."

Raising an eyebrow and cocking her head to the side, Twilight gave Lyra a long stare.

"How about you? You're obviously looking."

Turning away with a huff, Lyra awarded that comeback with a silent praise. She hadn't thought of that one.

"Then I'll just listen to for the seal to crack," she shrugged in feigned disinterest. "We'll both be fine that way... as long as you don't read out loud."

The cracking of a seal was the answer, followed by a longer period of silence. Her back to the librarian, Lyra snickered and threw her windigo a wink. We've done it, was what her gaze betrayed. It was an easy victory, too; much easier than she had feared it would be. In the end, a poker face and a perfect forgery were all that she needed.

Only one thing prevented Lyra from fully enjoying her success.

She lowered her gaze to the floor and rocked back and forth, trying to ignore the pangs of her conscience.

It was easy because ponies are trusting, that internal voice reminded Lyra. It was easy because Twilight doesn't know what kind of a monster you are.

Her glassy gaze resting on her hooves, Lyra answered the chiding voice with a sombre chuckle.

A monster... haha! No denying that. But after all I've been through, how could I not be one?

"WHAT?!"

The enraged question cut through the silence like the rumble of a thunder. Lyra bore the outburst quite stoically; she lifted her head and lazily peeked behind her back. Only then did she shudder - and even then only at the lack of her reaction. She had almost given away how much she had been anticipating the 'surprise'.

If Twilight wasn't so preoccupied...

Clenching her teeth, Lyra spun around. The move was exaggeratedly fast. Her hooves lost traction for a moment and she skidded, barely managing to keep herself from tumbling onto the floor. 

"Is there a problem?" she gasped, her eyes wide. She hoped that she was looking frightened enough.

A numb headshake was Twilight's answer. She couldn't tear her gaze from the parchment; her eyes were jumping as she re-read the letter again and again.

Lyra observed the reaction with both curiosity and worry. This was it! The moment where the fate of Equestria hung on the blind trust of a singular pony.

Well, Twilight... Lyra gulped silently. Let's see if you're as loyal as the gossips say.

The magenta aura vanished; Twilight stopped her magic. The parchment, no longer suspended, began to fall to the floor, fluttering as the light material tumbled in the air. It finally settled onto the floor with a barely audible crumple, right next to Twilight's hooves.

Celestia's favoured student paid it no attention. She turned around, facing the wooden bust in the middle of the library.

"Uh... bad news?" Lyra posed a calculatedly meek question. She began to tire of having to act; it was keeping her on the edge all the time. She could never be sure what passed for a genuine reaction. She tried to think with the head of a true messenger - but she didn't have much experience in that field.

Let's not push it further, she decided after a momentary pause. No mailmare would be standing around here, gawking like an idiot.

That sounded logical.

"Nevermind. It's none of my business, haha... message delivered! I should be going now! Goodbye!" she yelled and began walking. She wasn't really leaving, though. She may have been walking towards the door, but she was certain that Twilight would order her to stay before she could get that far.

Any moment now, Lyra drew a ragged, shallow breath. It was tough, knowing what would happen and still acting as if she had no idea. The anticipation was killing her. The muscles in her legs cramped as she dragged one hoof after another, the limbs divided between the need to move and the desire to stop already.

"Ah... ah! You- er, Lyra! Wait!"

Lyra paused so abruptly that her head swung downwards. Her mane, driven by inertia, flew into her face - just in time to cover the dark grin she flashed.

Took you long enough.

"Do you have anything urgent to do? Because... I, well... I would like to ask you to stay if not." Twilight muttered. She was standing in front of the table with the bust, her left hoof scratching the top of her head. "You see, Cel... ah, Princess Celestia wrote that I'm going to need... you... for the next lesson."

"There's no way I could decline if the Princess went so far as to pick me personally," Lyra lowered herself to the floor in a theatrically deep nod. She stayed there too; only her eyes moved. She was peeking upwards, shooting a curious glance at Twilight. "What am I needed for, though?"

Staring at Twilight, Lyra berated herself a little. That act was shoddy - it was overdone and artificial. She needed to learn subtlety; no real pony would have reacted like that.

It was hard to be subtle when she could feel all her veins bulging, though. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could count the pulse in her neck, even without holding a hoof there.

I'm going to have a stroke if this scene lasts too longer, Lyra widened her eyes a notch. Drops of cold sweat rolled down her side. Her eyes burned and her face began to itch. She had no idea how long Twilight waited with the answer, but to Lyra, the wait felt like an eternity of torture.

"You'll be part of a... pretty special assignment." Twilight exhaled loudly. "We are to tame the most dangerous being Equestria has ever known."





Lyra shifted around, ill at ease. The cushions were very comfortable, that she had to admit. She still couldn't sit in the same place for too long, though; she had to vent her anxiety somehow. She was sure that she would explode should she be unable to fiddle.

She had thought that the worst would be over once Twilight had read the letter. That assumption had been soundly proven wrong; she simply traded one act for another. As she had found out, feigning camaraderie was every bit as bad as feigning ignorance.

"We could move the statue beforehoof," Twilight hummed and rubbed her chin. "I'd rather conduct this experiment anywhere than the middle of the most crowded city."

"Does the place really matter?" Lyra sighed and straightened her back, shifting backwards. "I mean, I'm no magician - but I don't think distance would really impede him."

Twilight scowled at the remark. She leaned forward and groaned, furiously scratching the back of her neck. That did seem to calm her down - a few moments and many torn strands of hair later.

"Yeah. Distance isn't a factor with Discord... the whole world is his toy," she finally ceded. She remained on the floor though, her hooves pressing down on the back of her head. "Aaargh! It's no good - it's no good, no matter how I try to think about it! Why would Celestia decide on something this crazy?!"

Lyra reached for her glass and took a sip. The lukewarm water failed to do anything to the sour taste in her mouth, however. 

That odd, metallic smell...

I never knew guilt smelled, Lyra frowned and set the glass back on the ground. She had believed herself to be an expert on the matter of conscience; a fair number of plays were about suffering, how an ailing soul would tear itself apart. Only now did she realize how superficial her understanding was. That her previous life had been too peaceful to allow the kind of insight she now possessed.

The way she ran her tongue around her mouth, looking for the source of the odd taste... the way she turned her head a little and sniffed, searching for the source of that curious smell...

Even though with some delay, she recognized the scene from some plays. The subtle ways conscience manipulated the senses.

I wonder if I would see my life turned into a play one day, she thought and twisted her mouth to a light smirk. They better give the lyricists a prominent role if they do! I'm tired of violinists hogging the spotlight.

"Master..."

Lyra didn't turn her head; she had to be as subtle as possible. She simply moved her eyes to the translucent ghost on her left.

"Is this really worth it?" Snowy motioned at the struggling Twilight.

Lyra shook her head and looked away. Such a useless thing to fret about! It didn't matter how much they discussed or regretted now. The dice had been cast. What did it matter how the scales looked?!

That being said... pointless as it may have been, Lyra couldn't simply ignore the question either. It resonated with the scolding voice in her head.

"Stop asking stupid questions," she declared loudly. She didn't keep her voice down; an intentional decision on her part. She sprang up from her place and took a step forward. She was determined to answer everypony at the same time. Twilight, the windigo - even her own tempestuous conscience.

"Why would you not take this step? Why would you pass up on this chance?" she asked, her head turned at Twilight.

The librarian quickly scampered from the floor. She looked absolutely confused; she obviously wasn't expecting such a tirade to be thrown at her.

"Would you rather not interfere? Would you rather let the world run its course?  Enjoy the peace, however long it may last... sit around and do nothing?" Lyra blared, her face twisting in disgust.

A few weeks ago, she would have had no issues accepting that proposal. She had believed her world to be quite perfect. But now, after witnessing how easily lives broke down... after seeing how easily the oft-forgotten monsters of Equestria could wreak havoc... after tasting first-hoof how easily injustice could be carried out...

There was no way she could accept such a world. Not anymore.

"We love to forget about the fact, but it's a very thin ice we're walking on. One crack - and the entirety of Equestria drowns in the cold water." Lyra carried on, pacing towards the bust in the middle of the library. She hoped she hadn't taken a very long pause. She was prone to being distracted by her own thoughts, and she didn't want that to ruin the message she was trying to convey. "Heck! You also saw the changelings rampage in this very town! We were all this close to being turned into hollow husks... and that made me realize: weren't we at the mercy of those vampiric bugs all this time? Of course we were! For all those years-!"

"Umm, about that... I, uh..." Twilight rose her hoof. She then trailed off and hung her head in thinly veiled shame.

"Right. You were off to Canterlot yourself." Lyra snorted. The urge to call the other pony out on that one was strong. Lyra, however, chose to do away with the karmic retribution for now. It wouldn't have served any purpose. So she simply shrugged and waved a hoof at the ailing Twilight. "It's all right. The disaster was averted... for now. But for all we know, another could come next week. Or the week after that. What will we do then, I wonder? Hope that we'll have another foolhardy hero who's willing to die for others?"

Lyra turned her head and brought her gaze to Snowy.

The windigo didn't offer any answers. She simply jolted and shirked away, almost melting under the furious gaze.

Curiously enough, that reaction did serve a very good purpose. It reminded Lyra that she needed to dam her overflowing emotions. She needed to remain calm and calculating. Now more so than ever before in her life.

"I'm here... and I'll do my best that such a thing never happens again." Twilight muttered, slowly collapsing back onto the floor. She seemed pretty drained, and that made her promise sound ridiculously hollow.

I guess you're not happy about the status quo, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows at the sight. She then allowed herself a barely noticeable smirk. It was probably terrible of her, but it was vindicating to see such cues of anguish.

"I'm glad you're willing to help us!" she bowed towards Twilight, her smirk broadening to a full-blown toothy grin. "Doesn't this mean that you're giving up on your family, though? I mean, they live in Canterlot. That's almost a day away, even by the fastest trains."

Twilight jerked her head up. The remark seemed to have blindsided her, leaving her at a complete loss as to how to respond.

"Sorry. I probably could have phrased that one better," Lyra chuckled darkly. The phrase came out exactly as she thought it should, but there was no way to admit to that little indulgence. "Even so, you get my point. You may be Celestia's one and only student... but you're still just one pony. You can't claim this town under your protection! You couldn't possibly make true on that promise. You'd need a small army to keep your word! And don't you dare mention the bucking Guard. We both know they can't even defend themselves, much less anypony else."

Twilight closed her mouth and glanced to the side.

"And Ponyville is just one town," she sighed and shook her head. Her words had a palpably bitter edge to them, the sole emotion in the otherwise hollow voice. "Seriously, what about the other towns? There's so many of them... Equestria is so big..."

Dipping her head to the side and giving her lips a barely noticeable lick, Lyra awarded herself a silent commendation. That was exactly how she had hoped Twilight would react. In the end, all those nights preparing this speech weren't in vain.

"Exactly!" she yelled and pointed a hoof at Twilight. "This is a problem greater than any of us could fix. This is a problem with this whole world. And in order to fix the whole world..."

Lyra intentionally trailed off. She wanted to give Twilight a real chance to participate - to see whether the librarian could feel the plan as her own.

"...you need a power that can fix the whole world." Twilight gave the answer Lyra had been expecting of her. She didn't seem fully convinced just yet, though. She was still staring at a random bookshelf, her tone was still lacking any sort of conviction. "But, even so... why Discord? What makes Celestia think that he'd actually help us? He'd sooner turn us into chocolate milk than listen to us! And we expect HIM to provide assistance?"

Bobbing her head slightly, Lyra gave Twilight a silent praise. That was a pretty valid concern.

But it was exactly because of that worry Lyra had developed contingency measures.

She sneaked a peek to her side, at the silently staring windigo. Snowy was the best of all failsafe measures. Should anything go awry with Discord, that windigo could reduce the so-called 'god of chaos' into a blabbering, infantile draconequus.

That was the biggest lesson Lyra had learnt from the Chrysalis-incident. She no longer feared gods or demi-gods. While incomprehensibly powerful, even Discord couldn't do a thing if he had absolutely no thoughts left in his mind.

There was no way - nor need - to explain all that to Twilight, though. Her role would end before Discord could play a part.

...which was, somewhat ironically, another point that Lyra had decided to keep to herself.

"You don't need to concern yourself with that. Just have some faith! This plan will work out." Lyra gave a confident, almost prideful smirk instead. "Besides, we're talking about making the whole world better. Surely this outcome warrants a few risks along the way."

"A few risks! You weren't there the last time Discord..." Twilight groaned. She smacked herself in the face before she could finish the complaint though, then rubbed her forehead. Her mouth also kept moving, but no words rang out; she was talking solely to herself. She appeared to have some serious internal strife over the proposal. She only spoke up after a while, and even then only in mistake, judging by the content. "...ugh, this is crazy. This is reckless. I can see the possibility, but this is still ridiculously careless. Why just me?! We should have at least the other Elements on standby...!"

Raising her head high, Lyra narrowed her eyes. This seemed like the final obstacle she needed to clear. Victory was in her grasp!

...and she had prepared a trump card just for this occasion, too.

"Ahem! Twilight - please don't forget who sent you the order," she cleared her throat and threw a wink at the librarian. "Surely Celestia has her reasons. Who are we to doubt her?"

Twilight shut up right away. That was the perfect method to quiet her dissent; all she could do was nod with a blank expression.

Phew. Lyra breathed out as her anxiety let up. Her head dropped a little and her ears dipped; the entirety of her entered a more relaxed state. Got me worried for a second... but in the end, it's just as I thought. You are a lot like Snowy, Twilight. If you're called to Canterlot, you go... if you are told to return here, you return. You're like a servant. As long as your master orders you to jump, you don't care where the leap ends.

Hidden behind a hoof she raised to her face, Lyra couldn't help but break into a dark, self-deprecating smile. To think that she, the pony who had originally wanted to set Snowy free, would now stoop to abusing such bonds to her own ends.

She could almost hear as her conscience yanked on its chains.

Stop that, she tried to quieten the already subdued voice. Save your strength. Today's not over yet. What would happen if you went hoarse before the grand finale...?

"You're right. Celestia wouldn't ask something like this for no reason," Twilight sighed. Her transformation was nothing short of magical. She looked revitalized; she hopped back onto her hooves, even going as far as to giggle a little. "I mean, I should really know better by now! Celestia always likes me to learn on my own, haha! She never tells me anything until I have solved the issue."

Still partly in the cover of her hoof, Lyra couldn't even imagine just how that fact could make anypony happy.





"Haaa..." Twilight breathed in deep. She seemed to need a lot of air; she even arched her back to maximize the intake. She then breathed out, repeating the motion in reverse. "Haaaa."

"You seem tense," Lyra noted aloofly. She wasn't paying the librarian much attention; the saddlebags on her side kept her more preoccupied. She went through their contents again and again, double- and triple-checking that everything was in order. There was no room for stupid mistakes anymore. "Surely breaking a curse is no big deal for Celestia's finest student."

She shuddered at her own words. The act was becoming a little too natural. There was no need to push Twilight anymore; yet here she was, packing jabs anyway.

Oi, oi, oi... why is this so easy to get used to?

"Ha! Easy for you to say, miss Observer!" Twilight giggled and rolled her head around, popping her neck a few times. She then reached to the golden tiara on her head and rightened it. "I may be the Element of Magic, but I'm still only one of the six Elements. It took all of us to seal Discord the last time... I don't know what made Celestia think that I can undo the curse on my own now."

"The six of you, huh." Lyra bit onto her lip. She wasn't privy to that detail.

"Eh, no matter! I guess this is just another test of aptitude." Twilight giggled and waved a hoof in the air. She was a lot better than a half hour ago; she was overflowing with energy and motivation. "I'm sure I'll pass just fine! Can't disappoint my mentor, ahahah!"

"I'm sure you'll do fine!" Lyra winked at the librarian. She returned her gaze to her saddlebags and worked her magic, producing two train tickets from a pouch. "Anyway, we should get going. The last express leaves in less than an hour. We really don't want to be missing that one."

Twilight wrinkled her eyebrows at the floating tickets.

"Train?"

It was Lyra's turn to falter in confusion. She had no idea what was so outlandish in her offer - apart from the fact that she couldn't have possibly known that Celestia's letter would require her to accompany Twilight.

In which case pre-purchasing two train tickets wouldn't make much sense of her to do.

Oh snakerattles, Lyra felt her limbs run cold and tingly. Girl, you've done bucked this one up. Uhh, let's see. What could I say? I could have been planning to go to Canterlot for other reasons... as for why two tickets, I, uh... I don't know. I could have planned to travel with a colt? I mean, it would be awkward, buuut... but duty before personal affairs, right? Surely Twilight wouldn't object to-

"Why would we go by train?" Twilight snorted and swatted the tickets away. "I would rather take this test as soon as possible. Imagine, I could be the one waking Celestia tomorrow morning! With the news of my success, no less. Mmm..."

Her mouth hanging wide open, Lyra found herself only being able to gawk. That was a reasoning she definitely did not see coming. She was so dumbfounded, a single word was all she managed to dish out.

"How...?"

"By teleporting, of course!" Twilight giggled. She then popped out of Lyra's view - only to pat the cyan pony on the head the next moment. "Magicians travel in style. Especially when there are important matters to settle, tee-hee!"

Lyra was still gawking. She almost jumped when the hoof touched her from behind. She did recall the sensation from before, however. She had suffered the same trick already, back when Twilight had used it to pounce on her from above.

Teleport...! Lyra gasped. Tsk! I completely forgot about that one.

Her panic was fleeting, though. The idea was sound, after all. There was no reason to pick the train if other, more convenient methods of travel existed. As long as everypony arrived to Canterlot safe and sound-

The realization hit Lyra with the gentleness of a speeding truck.

SNOWY!

There was no way all three of them would arrive to Canterlot. After all, how would Twilight teleport a being she had no idea about?

"Wait-!" Lyra yelled, her voice tinted by the knowledge that she was already too late. She could tell that Twilight's magic had enveloped her; the spell was already in progress. "SNOWY!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Lyra could see the blue shade spring into action. Then the magenta colour overpowered everything, and all Lyra could feel was the world disappearing from beneath her hooves.





The arrival was about  as comfortable as the departure had been. The magenta colour cracked apart like a thin panel of glass, revealing nothing but darkness. In the initial few seconds, Lyra wasn't even worried. The spell had completely fooled her senses. She was so lost that she didn't even realize that she should have worried in the first place.

Then the magical bubble burst.

The resounding boom clattered Lyra's teeth against each other. The loud sound acted as a great anaesthetic, too; she didn't notice when or how she had landed. She simply found herself lying on the cold ground, her hooves clutched over her burning ears.

She had no idea what happened, but her ears rang louder than ever before. Also, on a possibly related note, her head felt like exploding.

"Master! Master!"

Clenching her teeth with all her might, Lyra overpowered her trembling muscles. She was hurting, but that was hardly a reason to become paralysed. She had been through worse and lived to tell the tale. The presence of her servant was more demanding of attention. She was glad to hear that Snowy could, in fact, make the jump with them.

"Snowy! Sno... wy? Uhh..."

Blinking rapidly in the utter darkness, Lyra wasn't sure if she had heard herself talking. The voice seemed distorted and unusual. She could feel her mouth move, she could feel air rush through her throat, she could feel her tongue forming the words. The sole issue was with the end result. It sounded alien and strange.

As she mulled over the fact, Lyra came to discover that the world around her was also pretty subdued. For a city with the size of Canterlot, her surroundings were eerily quiet. She could barely hear any noise over the constant ringing.

"What happened?" Lyra rubbed her ears. Her eyes were already adjusting to the darkness, but the ringing just wouldn't let up.

"Master - stop shouting! We will attract attention this way!" Snowy barked. She was the only thing that Lyra could hear with acute clarity. "Twilight's spell was already bad enough! We need to move before anypony comes to investigate that loud boom!"

A loud boom, Lyra nodded silently. She wasn't convinced that she had been shouting, but she trusted Snowy's judgement on that one. She stood up - and then promptly sat back down. She couldn't feel her balance. The imaginary axis pointing up kept wobbling around, pulling her along with it.

Keh! That idiot Twilight, she messed up the spell! Lyra fumed as she tried to stay upright for a second time. I knew I should have taken the train!

Twilight spared her the effort of re-learning how to stand, though. The purple unicorn popped up in Lyra's vision and scooped up the struggling musician with a burst of magic, dragging her away on the double.





"Air... pressure?" Lyra gasped. She then swallowed - and broke into a shudder. Her left ear produced a resounding crack, and she felt as if a tiny chisel was being hammered into her skull.

"Yeah... I now remember just why I never travelled so far this way," Twilight cringed. She was also struggling, pressing her hooves against both her ears, visibly taking large gulps every few seconds. "I teleport a small bubble with me in the centre... so if the air density doesn't match up with the destination, it can... ahaha, it will equalize rather suddenly... ow! Owowow, my poor ears..."

"Ohh." Snowy bobbed her head. "That makes sense! Canterlot is higher than Ponyville. Quite a lot higher, in fact! In which case the air would be less dense, right?"

You're always so smart when it no longer matters, Lyra shot an angry glare at her care free servant. No, she wasn't envious of the windigo! Not the slightest.

She absolutely didn't wish that she was an intangible ghost who didn't have to deal with the complications of a physical body.

"Just keep... gulping. Owowow..." Twilight shuddered, one of her ears twitching pretty violently. "This shouldn't be enough to shatter our eardrums... so it should get bet- OW! -better before long. Argh."

Glancing at the early stars above the rooftops, Lyra nodded in agreement. There was no rush. In fact, she would have really preferred meeting Discord in the middle of the night, when there would be even fewer curious eyes around.





Despite the poor lighting, the garden of Canterlot Palace was nothing short of breathtaking. Corridor upon corridor, all made of carefully trimmed hedges with the occasional statue sprinkled in to break the monotony. Lyra found herself gawking all the time; she couldn't get enough of the sight. It was the first time she had been there. 

Alright, so she had been to the gardens before - technically. She had been only privy to the large open area where the gatherings and parties were held. She was never allowed into the restricted portion.

Well, not like I have a permission right now either, she ceded with a dry chuckle.

"I wonder if this is wise," Snowy hissed. She was moving right next to her master, her crimson gaze darting around, constantly on the lookout for potential dangers. "Going straight into the lion's den..."

The concern was understandable, but also baseless. There were no dangers to be afraid of. Even though they were walking in seeing distance from the Palace, so close that Lyra could see the lights emanating from the windows... there was nopony to be afraid of. The Palace garden was completely deserted; throughout their walk, Lyra couldn't see a single soul about.

She was glad for the fact. While she didn't have to be afraid of repercussions - straying into the garden with Celestia's student would hardly be a punishable offence - bumping into anypony would have forced her to take action. She didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to mindwipe more ponies than strictly necessary. 

Twilight was moving in front of her. The purple unicorn neared an intersection and slowed down. Then she stopped, hugged the trimmed hedge and slowly crept forward, peeking out with glacially slow movements.

"Clear," Twilight whispered and bounced up, taking a left turn. "This way! We're not far now."

"I can't help but notice just how many ponies are good at sneaking around." Snowy shook her head with a scowl. "What is this world coming to?"

"Want me to change that as well?" Lyra rolled her eyes.

We are here to change the world, after all.

She couldn't help but re-enact the way Twilight had moved. She crept to the intersection and inched forward until she had a clear view of the next corridor. Then she sprang into gallop, banking sharply to the left. She could see the purple magician move a good forty steps ahead of her... and then suddenly switch to a languid pace, almost stopping in the middle of the corridor.

What now! Lyra fumed silently. She didn't dare ask loudly, though; she simply followed suit, a decision that ultimately proved wise.

The reason for Twilight's hesitation became obvious as soon as Lyra reached the same spot.

They were both standing at the edge of a larger plaza, complete with finely crafted benches, carefully arranged flowers and an artificial stream. It was a sight to behold, even with the night dulling the colours.

As far as the two ponies were concerned, however, the large statue in the middle was the most interesting piece of the picture.

A draconequus stood there, frozen in his perpetual, eternal laughter.

Lyra couldn't help but lick her lips. Not because she was overflowing with anticipation; she was quite nervous, in fact. So nervous that she could feel her drying lips flake.

It was that feeling she hated.

"Haha... if at first you don't succeed... well, so much for setting mad gods free," Twilight giggled. It was an anxious laughter, betrayed by the trembling tone. "Oh sweet Celestia, I better not muck this up."

"You'll be fine." Lyra pat the nervous pony on the back. Considering her own mood, she wasn't in much position to placate anypony - but this act was for a purpose as well. She really, really needed Twilight to be at the peak for the next few minutes. "Remember, this is for the betterment of the world. So just hang in there... have faith. The rest will work itself out."

Twilight eyed the stony draconequus in revered silence, finally breaking into a sigh.

"Faith..." she mumbled and shook her head angrily. "Hmpfh! As if I ever doubted Celestia!"

Revitalized, Twilight charged ahead with heavy hoofsteps.

That's my pony, Lyra gave a nervous smirk and began moving herself, her ghostly windigo in tow.





"I can't believe nopony is seeing this," Snowy turned her head around for umpteenth time.

Basking in the vivid magenta glow, Lyra found herself sharing that concern. Twilight's magic was a lot flashier than she had imagined it to be. The golden diadem - or the Element of Magic, as Twilight had referred to it - could have easily doubled for a portable reflector, filling the entire plaza with eye-searingly bright magenta light.

It was a pretty intimidating sight, and not just because of the strong light.

Despite Twilight's assurances of how safe the entire process would be, Lyra found herself backing away all the same. She could feel the magical energies surge and shift about. While she had used unicorn magic on a daily basis, Lyra had never experienced magic even remotely close to that scale.

It was an otherworldly and terrifying experience.

Twilight, on the other hoof, didn't seem very shaken. She was standing still, her eyes closed and her features calm. Only her mouth was moving ever so slightly, but there was no telling just what she was whispering. Probably the incantation of the magic spell, if Lyra were to take a guess.

Observing the purple pony from a hopefully safe distance, Lyra could only liken Twilight's state to that of a trance.

I very doubt she could hear me, then. 

"Snowy," Lyra mumbled. "Remember. When I give the sign... you do your thing. No questions, no buts, no ifs. We can't afford to slip up here."

"What if the plan doesn't work, though?" Snowy turned to the source of bright magenta light herself. "Won't we need Miss Twilight if Discord doesn't cooperate?"

"Oh, but he will co-operate." Lyra flashed a grin and shook her torso a little. That made her saddlebags bounce about; she could feel as the two scrolls also rocked around inside. She liked that feeling; it was truly reassuring.

"We will leave him no choice."

Narrowing her eyes, Snowy hesitated... and then gave a curt nod anyway.

"I shall follow Master, no matter where Master may take me." The windigo proclaimed with grim determination.

Oi, oi, oi... stop talking so ominously! Lyra shuddered. I won't fail. Not here. Not after all I've been through.

She steeled her jaws and gulped dryly. She had already passed the point of no return; there was no room left for doubts. She opened her mouth, ready to berate her servant - but she was silenced by a decidedly sickening sensation. The flow of the magic shifted, like calm water ravaged by sudden winds. Gasping for air, Lyra pressed a hoof to her chest. She had no idea why, but she felt a dull pain throbbing all across her body. The magic pulsed around her, unsteadily and unpredictably; she could barely keep up with the wild twists, let alone do something about it. All she could do was wince as the invisible waves battered her, threatening to pull her very being apart.

"What incredible power!" Snowy gawked, her outlines fading and brimming as the waves washed across her. "This is-!"

Lyra gave her servant a curious glare, then realized how the windigo could have only been talking about that thing. Training her eyes on the statue herself, Lyra felt her jaw drop.

Cracks appeared all around the draconequus, spreading and widening. They formed a delicate pattern at first, then disappeared as the thin layer of marble stone peeled away, revealing the body underneath.

There was a sudden howl, and Lyra wasn't sure which hit her worse - the raw magic or the deafeningly loud shout.

"HAH! I AM FREEE!"

"Discord! You have been freed so that you may redeem yourself!" Twilight exclaimed, wasting absolutely no time.

Hastily unlocking the saddlebag on her right, Lyra had to give the librarian some props. That was an incredibly gutsy move, ordering Discord around. Or, well... trying to do so, anyway. It was the thought that counted.

The draconequus didn't bother with answering right away. He held his arms high and stretched, warming up after his year-long sleep. Even then, his answer defied the expectations.

"Oh come on, Twily. Hitting such a tone after shaking me awake... tsk, tsk." He shook his head in disapproval. "Ah, I swear you're all getting worse as time goes by. At least Celly had the decency to ask kindly before she put me cold. Haa, get it? Put me cold?" 

"That's Princess Celestia for you!" Twilight hissed through her clenched teeth. "And don't forget that this is just a test. Should you be found lacking... well, we've turned you to stone once! We can do it again."

Judging by how he started picking the dust from his ears, Discord didn't seem very alarmed by the threat.

"Yes, I'm totally shaking with fear here..." he groaned, then leaned closer to Twilight, making the pony back off a step. "You're totally lacking imagination, little lapdog of the white princess. Petrifying me clearly didn't work the last two times... just why would you try it again? Seriously, I'm so bored I'm this close to teaching you some quality tricks-"

"Discord!"

The yell took both the chaos god and Twilight by surprise. They turned in complete unison; they even had the same dumbstruck look on their faces as they faced Lyra.

"The invoice for your freedom." Lyra unfurled the scroll she had taken from her backpack. Her grimace mirrored her tone - shameless and self-confident. "Sign it. Now."

"Invoice?" Twilight cocked her head to the side and gave the top of her skull a scratch. "What is that even...?"

Discord, on the other hoof, simply broke into another roaring laughter.

"Bwaahahah! Okay, that is new!" He hollered, slapping his sides to stem his laughter a little. "But seriously, look at you! Threatening me of all things! Do you even know who I am, pony? Celestia I could understand... heck, even Twilight, with that fancy Element of hers! But you... just what could you posses, huh?"

Her lips parting, Lyra's smile widened until there was only a toothy, deranged grin left.

"I possess Snowy," she yanked her nose, motioning at Snowy. "But more importantly, I possess an absolute and utter disregard for your life, Discord."

She took an intentional pause to get the scroll out of the way. She wanted the draconequus to have a good look at her face. She wanted Discord to understand how different she was from Twilight - or from most other ponies.

"I set you free so you could help me." Lyra continued, growling without a shred of dishonesty. It felt reinvigorating, no longer having to act. "You can decline to be an ally... but then I'll make sure you are no longer in any position to be a threat."
> 34 - Sacrificed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What are you doing?!" Twilight yelled. She was also backing away slowly, positioning herself at an equal disance from both Lyra and Discord. "This isn't what the letter said we should do!"

Lyra paid the complaint very little attention. She glanced at Twilight every now and then, but only to make sure the magician wasn't doing anything stupid. The draconequus was her only true concern.

"Did you just threaten to do me in... with snow?" Discord raised an eyebrow. He didn't bother hiding his opinion; he raised a claw and drew small circles in the air next to his head.

"SnowY," Lyra sighed wearily. She furrowed her forehead and took a deep breath. She realised: she was getting ahead of herself and needed to slow down.

I'm not even sure what I was thinking, she ceded silently. Unless Discord is another master, he won't be able to see Snowy... much less know her by name.

"Anyhow, I see you're not taking me seriously yet." Lyra flashed a wry, humourless grin. "Well, do allow me to demonstrate."

In a surreal moment of complete confusion, Discord and Twilight glanced at one another, both seeming to expect the other to start explaining. They blinked at each other for a little longer, then turned back to Lyra, with Twilight being the faster to speak up.

"Demonstrate... what?" she asked, squinting and keeping her head low. She didn't seem very nervous, only dumbfounded - and perhaps curious. "Speak clearly already! I can't follow any of this!"

"Glad to hear. It's better for all of us this way," Lyra forced an awkward smile, masking how nervous she was.

She may have engineered Discord's release, but she still had the option to go back on her plans. She could still choose to pacify the laughing chaos god. That was also the path which her conscience wanted to take. Her instincts screamed against the mere idea of siding with the draconequus. She had always been taught that Discord needed to be restrained, kept under control. She knew she was ought to work with Twilight - to solve the matter at hoof with as little pain as possible. 

To preserve harmony.

To make everypony happy.

Happy...

Blowing hot air from her nostrils, Lyra cast those doubts away, the brief moment of hesitation turning into mild anger. She was annoyed at her inability to discard those outdated, foolish notions. Always trying to make everypony happy, all the time - such a simplistic, narrow-minded goal. She could only liken it to clawing away at a head-high wall, refusing to back off even one step. Always so near, yet never actually getting through.

To fix a halfway flawed song, sometimes you need to throw the entire sheet away, she whispered to herself and cracked her eyes open. Yes... I can't falter now. Not if I want to make this world perfect. 

"Snowy... your master orders you," she muttered and turned her gaze to Celestia's favoured student. Lyra felt a knot forming in her throat and her voice faltered; she barely managed to utter the actual command. Those weak, powerless words were still enough to set everything in motion though.

"Erase Twilight Sparkle - from all the minds of this entire world, except you and me, and, uh... and Discord!"

Lyra had barely finished talking when she collapsed, her mind reeling from the massive backlash.





The Source narrowed its dual-coloured eyes. The hooded pony was sitting on the outermost bastion-top of Canterlot Palace, all its attention focused on the Garden underneath.

So you've done it, the game master hummed at the scene. I should be happy that you've finally committed yourself, I guess. So why am I...

Safely hidden by the powerful magic that so very few in this world could rival, the Source casually lifted a hoof, bringing it out of the green robe's cover. The faint light of the Moon gave the limb a grey tint, but the Source could well imagine the original colour anyway. Because despite the night colours, despite the lossy coat, despite the flaking skin... the Source could still remember the original picture.

A vivid purple coat should have been there - or rather, used to be. Right until it began rotting away; a side-effect of gaining omnipotent magical prowess.

Twisting the leg left and right, the Source allowed itself a wry smirk. The actual relationship of deteriorating health and unnatural magic was so much more complex, of course. But even so, standing at the top of Canterlot Palace and comparing that ugly limb to the wonderfully intact Twilight Sparkle below... there was a wonderfully simple way to sum up the whole equation.

Such is the price of my own cheat.

A dry chuckle rang out, and the damaged leg disappeared back into the cover of the robes.

These negative thoughts don't help at all, the game master chided itself. Stop this. It made no sense to start wallowing in self-pity; not when the game was finally so close to coming to an end.

Because self-pity those thoughts had to be; the Source couldn't peg them down as anything else. There was no way those dark thoughts were triggered by seeing Twilight Sparkle cease to be. That pony had already been offered a great boon: she had remained an outsider, unaffected by the game. This despite her being a magical prodigy.

You're a lot better than what I used to be, the Source mused, the face under the robe distorting in envy. And despite that, it's still me burning away up here, not you!

Light flashed from below. It was only for a fraction of a second, but the windigo glowed with the brilliance of the rising sun. A strange and completely unnatural light - one that burned the Source's eyes, yet didn't illuminate the night Garden. The game master scowled in the cover of the hood and sat down, gently rubbing its damaged leg with the other. Blood trickled onto the roof tiles, drawing a few red dots on the golden surface. Even after centuries of experience and continuous refinement, granting such spells to the servants still didn't come lightly.

Tearing a strip from the robe with a sigh, the Source wrapped the green fabric around the trembling leg. This bleeding had to be stopped. Showing weaknesses to anypony would undermine the carefully constructed image of the omnipotent Game Master.

Coiling the torn rag around its leg, the Source returned its attention to the Garden below - just in time to see Lyra getting back up.

At least it's not for long now, the game master gave the stumbling Lyra a tired grin. Despite how unsightly you look, you are still the perfect answer to all my woes. Yes... as long as you don't falter, you'll be able to put an end to all this.

A faint whine escaped the Source's mouth as it tightened the torn rag around the bleeding leg, reassuring its long-time conviction that the end couldn't come soon enough. Should the damage keep piling up, the after-game activity would pose real dangers. The would-be pursuers were kin, after all; the same breed of magicians as the Source. Escaping them promised to be a hard task, even without the various injuries.

Lamenting about that possibility, the Source almost wished the game would never end.

Almost.





Shakily rising to her hooves, Lyra first thought wasn't that of triumph. She simply felt cheated. She saw Twilight still standing upright, despite having been the target of Snowy's complete wrath. There was no attack more severe than erasing somepony from the collective memory of Equestria.

And even so, Twilight was still standing.

Lyra, on the other hoof, felt barely conscious. A dull, pervasive throbbing in her skull; she could liken it to her drowsier mornings, the ones which left her fighting with teeth clenched to keep her eyes open.

Dhhh... dammit! she cussed silently. She had difficulties standing; she began veering to the left almost instantly. I... ugh. This backlash... I wasn't expecting it to be this bad...

"Wait a second! Are you serious?!"

Squinting with one eye to ease the numb buzzing in her head, Lyra gave the draconequus a long, mostly absent-minded stare. It was only after several seconds that she realised the question had been aimed at her. Her head dipped; a half-hearted and weak nod was all she had to say regarding the matter.

Discord didn't seemed very satisfied with the answer. His eyebrows were raised high, drawing deep crevasses on his forehead, his paws pressed against his temple.

"Just who the heck are you, then? And why would you do this?" he mumbled. The grip of his paws tightened, the sharp, gryphon-like claws digging into the grey coat just over his ear. "Weren't you ponies supposed to be on the same team?!"

That claim was enough to make Lyra force a weak grin. There was something deeply ridiculous about Discord's outrage. Something ridiculous... and very sweet. The chaos god's confusion tasted like a sweet nectar, even in the midst of the dizzying pain.

Funny how godly beings aren't immune to the same mental shortcuts as us.

"Master is not allied with the current student of Celestia," Snowy growled and stepped ahead, passing and moving in front of Lyra. "If you were expecting protection from high places... I'm afraid we have to disappoint you, Mister Discord."

Oi! Don't go saying things on your own! Lyra grit her teeth at the windigo. There was no need to get too worked up yet, though. She still had no idea whether Discord could even see or hear Snowy.

"What happened to this place? This is all nuts," Discord giggled and slid his palms down the side of his head. "Did I really snap? Though, considering the way Celestia rules... how would I even tell?"

"Madness is no longer funny when it's not down to you, is it?" Lyra shook her head with a dry chuckle. She grabbed the parchment lying at her hoof - she must have dropped it when the backlash hit her - and held it in the face of the draconequus again. "Your signature... please."

In spite of the tacked-on word, there was very little courtesy in Lyra's voice.

"Contrary to popular belief, being a psychopath is not the quickest way to my heart." Discord frowned and tapped his temple with a claw of his right paw. "Besides, just what made you think I'd jump on an unknown deal with a stranger who throws her own kind under the bus? Do I look that stupid? Ah... wait. Did Miss Shiny Sunbutt tell you that I'd do that? She kept slandering me in my absence, didn't she?"

Lyra hummed and gave her Gies scroll a piercing glare. As Discord's complaint seemed reasonable, she didn't see any sense in arguing the with the draconequus. She wanted nothing more than this whole farce to be over as soon as possible. Preferably before things could slip out of control.

Tsk. Lyra clicked loudly with her tongue. I do need him to sign this scroll himself, out of his own will... and he isn't the careless clown I thought he'd be. Guess this won't go as simply as I'd hoped.

Running her tongue over her dry lips, Lyra finally realised that she had no choice but to humour Discord. She could have threatened him with Snowy, but doing so could have escalated into a difficult situation; and while Snowy was instructed to avenge her should anything befall her, Lyra was partial to surviving the encounter pony-shaped. It would have been difficult to save the world if she got magically morphed into something weird.

With all that in mind, she set the threats aside - for the time being.

"Slander, huh? I wonder about that! You see, it seems to me that Celestia has been telling the truth after all. You are an ungrateful pain in the rear," she declared in a dry tone. The scroll in front of her furled up, her magic floating the paper back to her side. "I thought freeing you would get me some benefit of the doubt... but here you are, accusing me of all sorts of things."

A flick of her magic, and Lyra made the scroll do a brief dance in the air. The rolled up piece of paper bobbed back and forth; to an outside spectator, it would have seemed as if she was simply fiddling around.

In truth, it was a signal - one which made Snowy back away a little, giving Lyra a clear view of the draconequus.

"Well, excuse me! The last time I was freed, it was only so I could answer the same old questions again and again." Discord smirked and extended an arm, pointing a claw at Lyra. "Well, there you have it! My answer remains unchanged. I may have no use for it, but I'm still not handing my servant over. Especially if Sunbutt no longer bothers to demand it personally. Seriously, sending such a half-baked flunky like you..."

Oi, oi, oi... he said 'servant' just now. He totally said 'servant' just now! Lyra steeled her face, bottling up a forming growl. Well, figures. Of course someone as powerful as him would be involved. But...

The gears spinning in her head, Lyra found herself stupefied by the other revelation.

"What's that about your answer being unchanged?" she squinted and cocked her head sideways. "Celestia tried to ask for your servant already?"

Discord pulled his arm back - slowly and reluctantly, stopping several times along the way. His paw ended up around his white goatee, his claws absent-mindedly running down the white strands of hair.

"What's with that face? Didn't you - oh. Oh! You actually don't know!" he mused loudly, his sharp claw dividing his white goatee into two. "Is that really possible? You weren't sent by her? Though now thinking about it, Geis was never the style of Tia. And... neither was betraying her own underlings, huh."

Going to great lengths to keep her indifferent visage, Lyra clenched her teeth. She could have said a lot on that last subject.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she sneered, her words so full of loathing that she almost wound up spitting.

"Oh, I definitely am. I know her way too well. She isn't the type to change her colours." Discord rolled his eyes and waved his chubby paw dismissively. "No... her stupid and stubborn head is bound to remain the same way forever. Just like her oversized white rear is."

"Whoa. Mister Discord, have you no shame?" Snowy gasped. "Talking so casually about an acting monarch..."

Moving in small, staggered motions, Lyra turned her head to her servant.

Please tell me you didn't forget that we're working to knock that crowned bastard down a peg, she huffed, silencing the windigo with a piercing glare.

"Right back at you." Discord straightened up. It was that moment his true height became evident - he towered above Snowy and Lyra. The duo were awed by the sight of the draconequus blotting the stars out.

Discord didn't allow the moment to go to waste. He snapped his fingers and a crown appeared on his head right away. A quite fancy one, too; solid gold and rubies that glittered, shining brilliantly even in the weak amber light of Lyra's magic.

"Ooh." Snowy exhaled, huddling the ground as she backed away. "So... is it Your Highness from now on?"

Lyra shook her head and chuckled dryly. That was a pretty impressive parlour trick indeed. But while it may have worked wonders on her gullible servant, it took way more than that to intimidate her. Discord was no more king than she was a queen.

Well, aren't you full of yourself! Even you should know that a crown a liege does not make, she thought to herself as she took a breath death. Meh. Seems I got way too cautious... I won't get him to cooperate like this. Guess I need to be a tiny little bit more forceful...

"Discord, Discord, Discord... I engineered your release precisely so I can kick Celestia where it hurts. I've even showed you the power I wield!" she giggled, her lips parting to a trembling, nervous grin. The furled-up scroll bounced around her head, the amber magic leaving quickly fading contrails into the night darkness. The paper's mad dance came to a stop afterwards, pointing at the blankly staring Twilight.

That was one pretty obvious sign. Discord sighed and folded his arms on his chest; Snowy cleared her throat and took a more combative stance.

Twilight, on the other hoof, simply blinked repeatedly and looked around, unashamedly searching for whatever Lyra could have been trying to draw attention to.

"Now that I know you're a fellow master, I've got even less incentives to keep you... well, yourself." Lyra continued, her Geis-scroll wandering to the other side of her head, pointing at Snowy. "Do you want to keep playing this stupid game of yours, Discord? Do you really want to test my patience?"

Discord opened his mouth, but a loud whistle rang out before he could answer. The noise was distant, but cut through the silent night like knife sailing through fine silk. Several others followed; all of them coming from the same direction. Only the overlaps betrayed how they were coming from different sources.

The Guard! Lyra clenched her teeth. Tsk! You're always so useless, why are you so competent THIS once?! Just when I'm in the middle of something that really shouldn't be interrupted too...!

"Seems we've got company." Discord shook his head with a tired sigh. "You said you weren't with Tia, right?"

Lyra frowned in open dismay. After all the talk she had given, the answer to that question should really have been obvious. Even so, she had to reply somehow; so she simply prodded with the furled-up scroll in the direction of Twilight.

"Right. Then there's no need for the extra audience," Discord shrugged and snapped his fingers.

Lyra felt like asking what he was doing, but the whole scheme became self-evident a mere moment later. The grassy ground disappeared from beneath her hooves and all the lights went dark around her. She had the idea to scream - but could only grunt when her chin smacked against the wooden floor.





"Home sweet home!" Discord exclaimed with completely unwarranted jubilation.

Wherever your home may be, Lyra held a hoof to her nose. Her whole torso had felt the impact, but rubbing her ribs didn't offer doing as much good as rubbing her nose did. Ugh... I knew he was a fairly competent mad god, but to do a teleport with just a snap...

This was beyond her expectations. They were teleported; they had to be, judging by the wooden floor which hurt her so much. There was no wood in the Canterlot Palace Garden - only rocky paths, flowers and grassy meadows.

This was a pretty remarkable feat. Lyra could easily recall what extreme concentration Twilight had required for this trick to work; but Discord accomplished the same with but a snap of his fingers. Without the side-effect of bleeding ears, too.

He really does twist reality as he wishes, Lyra gulped as she pushed herself off from the floor. Damn it! He could have done me in any moment he wished. He wouldn't even need to do anything special! He could just teleport me high up and watch me go splat. 

She shook her head to get rid of the mental image. Focus, girl. This trick, while certainly impressive, did not change matters. She had always assumed Discord was dangerous... even if not to this extent.

Besides, this was also reassuring, in a roundabout way. Her still being alive meant that Discord had no reason to want her out of the way. Not for the moment, anyhow.

"Home?"

Cracking her left eye open, Lyra gave the source of the meek question a passing glance. Twilight had also been caught in the teleport, as she was still with them. The purple unicorn was sitting on the wooden floor, moving her gaze around slowly. She was quite obviously not looking for anything in particular; she only seemed to be confused and lost. There was hardly anything special left about her. Even her golden diadem was gone - it must have fallen off earlier.

"Yep, home. You know, where the heart is!" Discord spun around. He wound up pointing both his paws at Twilight and snapped his fingers again, pointing his two index-claws at the flabbergasted pony.

Lyra shuddered and closed her eyes out of reflex. She waited a few seconds and opened them again, meekly - and found that nothing had changed around her. That move was either a dud, or Discord was simply using body language in the way it was normally meant to be.

"I always believed the heart was located in the chest cavity." Snowy scratched her head. "How would a heart outside the body function anyway?"

Of all the things you keep forgetting, these insanely detailed details somehow never seem to wind up among them, Lyra rolled her eyes with a groan.

"Home," Twilight repeated in a faltering voice, oblivious to the reason why Discord slapped himself on the head a second ago. "I... have no idea where that is... do you know where my home is?"

The question was honest. The tone which betrayed a hint of hope, the eyes which glistened with expectation; those left no doubts. Those were also which stopped Lyra dead in her tracks. No matter how much she had wanted to settle her matters with Discord, she didn't have the heart to interrupt the scene. She couldn't force herself be so rude to a pony who remembered nothing - a condition she was all too familiar with. She grabbed the scroll from the wooden floor, turned away... and gasped silently.

As it had turned out, Discord was lot more literal than what Lyra had assumed he had been.

Lyra found herself facing a golden telescope, with the houses Ponyville in the background. She was standing on the topmost floor of the Golden Oak Library, her eyes level with the rooftops.

"Hmm. How should I know of your home if you have no idea yourself?" Discord sighed and patted Twilight on the head. "I'm a connoisseur of practical jokes, not some all-knowing oracle."

"It's there," Lyra raised a leg, her hoof pointing at a building in the distance - the one with the fake flame on the top. "It's called the Sugarcube Corner. You'll remember everything once you get there."

Lyra had to give herself an imaginary pat on the back. She sounded really confident; much more than she should have been. She had no idea who or what was at the Sugarcube. She only remembered that she had wanted to send Twilight there for some reason. It was part of the plan... or well, somepony's plan. Perhaps hers. She wasn't sure on the details.

"Sugarcube..." Twilight echoed, almost mechanically. "Is that home?"

"Yeah." Lyra nodded, speaking without bothering to look at the other pony. "I'm sure you will remember... something there."





"You're weird. First you mind-wipe Twilight... and then you send her to that Sugarcube place to get her restored. Because that's what you're doing, isn't it?" Discord scratched his head. He was leaning on the railing of the Golden Oak's observatory floor, his crimson eyes following the departing figure of Twilight on the ground below. "Did you want to give me a demonstration that badly?"

Lyra frowned and shrugged. She was a little confused on the matter herself, but there was no way she could admit that. She didn't want to reveal how badly Snowy's powers had affected her own self.

"A bit of this and a bit of that. I had to convince you somehow," she mumbled. In the end, revealing her plan to Discord carried the least amount of risks; especially since her memories related to the plan seemed to be the most intact ones. "Getting rid of Twilight was also paramount, though. Well, was... and still is, if you get what I'm saying."

"Stop hammering it home already. You're going so far that I could imagine putting your picture next to 'character assassination' in the thesaurus!" Discord chuckled. He lifted his chubby paw and took a good, long look at the scroll he was holding. "Seriously, using me to erase the servants' memories of Twilight and to erase her from written documents..."

"Mind the details, please. All servants except Axiom... whoever they may be. And all documents except my diary." Lyra gave a correction in a disinterested tone. She was pretty sure that Discord didn't forget the contents of the Geis scroll during the span of a few minutes, but she had to make sure that he understood the nuances properly. There must had been a reason she put those exceptions there, so she was sticking to them.

Lyra couldn't help but feel annoyed at her bad luck. The backslash of using Snowy had thrashed some quite important memories of hers. It was annoying, remembering the nuanced points of her plan but not knowing just why the plan was designed that way. She had no choice but to blindly trust her own decisions.

Discord nodded and breathed in loudly, a sour expression on his face. He sank into his thoughts, absent-mindedly fiddling with the scroll, rotating and tossing it between his paws. He didn't say anything.

Lyra eyed the draconequus, her mane moving as a light wind began ruffling it; a cold breeze blew across the night-time Ponyville. The mighty branches of the Golden Oak didn't even respond to the change in air currents. Only the leaves rattled around, some tearing free to dance in the air, tumbling around on their way down. One in particular drew a shallow circle above Lyra's nose, shortly before veering sharply to the left and disappearing in the night sky.

"There's an old phrase for what you're doing... damnatio memoriae." Discord switched to musing out loud, running his chubby paw down the sides of the furled up scroll. "It's strange, though. This wasn't something that I had intended as a diversionary tool. Makes me wonder - did my old self lack imagination?"

"This is something that YOU had invented?" Lyra jolted.

I hope I didn't settle on this because it was famous for Discord, she pushed a hoof against her forehead, shuddering at the mere possibility. Even I couldn't be this stupid, right? This is just one big coincidence, right?!

"Surprised? What, you thought I'm such a nice guy that I couldn't do such a thing? D'awww, that's really nice of you." Discord gave Lyra a sly wink. His brief enthusiasm was soon enveloped by a more melancholic mood though. He turned his gaze back to the sleeping Ponyville, his arms resting on the wooden railing. "Though then again, it's probably just great minds thinking alike. It's not exactly a difficult wheel to re-invent... once you can start making ponies forget, that is."

A muffled hiss escaped Lyra's mouth, the noise suppressed by the rustling of the branches around. Compliment or not, she found no joy in being compared to Discord. Still, she did see one benefit in the aloof admiration of the draconequus.

"If our thoughts are so aligned, then surely you could scribble your name onto my scroll now," she muttered in a wavering tone. It was an uphill battle, keeping herself composed. Time and again, she had the urge to just scream at Discord.

SIGN THAT PAPER ALREADY, YOU INSIPID, RAMBLING DRAGON-PONY-LION-WHATEVER!

She fought off all those outbreaks so far. Even she could see how they wouldn't do her any good - quite the opposite, most likely. She couldn't help but keep thinking about the possibility, though.

Who knows. He IS the most unpredictable creature in Equestria. Maybe he'd find my courage impressive... provided that he mistook my nervous breakdown for a sign of courage, heh.

Discord was showing a whole different face than Lyra. He didn't appear to be in any hurry. He gave Lyra a long, almost bored stare... then he groaned and lifted his chubby paw into the air, carrying one end of the scroll with it. The other dangled freely, and moments later gravity unfurled the long piece of paper. Discord then squinted at the magical contract. He wasn't reading anything; he was obviously staring into the distance, lost in his thoughts. Right until he cleared his throat.

"Thinking alike... I wonder about that," he muttered and turned his head to Lyra, his long white eyebrows flailing as the wind caught them. "Let's see whether we really are on the same page. Tell me - why do you think anyone would resort to this extreme punishment? Banishment from all memory, that is."

Lyra grunted and glanced away. Of all the things Discord may do to her, odd personal trivia wasn't high on her list of expectations.

She gulped; she had absolutely no idea about Discord's past, his motivations, or his goals - or whether if he had any in the first place. The only thing she had managed to dig up on the draconequus is that he was incredibly powerful and criminally insane.

Huh. Now that I think about it... she blinked openly at Discord. Aren't you a little too lucid for an insane god on an ego trip? And by that I really mean, WAY TOO LUCID. Seriously, giving me a quiz? Why are you being so cautious about singing a stupid paper?!

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Lyra was confident that there was only one right answer in her situation: biding her time and hoping that an awesome idea appeared in the meantime.

"Let me ask you something first," she cracked her right eye open, cocking her head to the opposite side. "When Snowy complained earlier, you grabbed a crown out of thin air. Was that another of your jokes, or were you really a king?"

"Is that really a question?! Oh gods, I truly weep for the youth of today." Discord moaned and straightened up. One of his arms rested on his forehead, a laughable attempt to cover the pained grimace on his face. "I've always told 'Tia, but noooo! She never listens. See, this is what happens when you have more banquets than history lessons!"

Lyra couldn't help but make a face. Maybe it was a shortcoming of hers, but she couldn't really see Discord as a champion of proper education.

"But anyway, yeah - I used to be a king. Long ago. Before I got a little bit too involved in the Grand Game." Discord snickered. He crossed his arms behind his head and quickly gave his back a miniature stretch. "I used to go under a different name, you know? And I wasn't this kind of a jigsaw puzzle either. Old times - weird times."

The draconequus moved his arms above his head and stretched.

"Not that I remember too much of it now... not there is much reason to," he continued with a yawn. "The end was the funniest, though. I made the wrong kind of joke to the wrong kind of monarch... then she repaid the favour in kind, making the wrong kind of wish to the wrong kind of servant. It was all sorts of ridiculous! Too bad this windigo wasn't called Snowy back then... that would have certainly upped the humour factor, haha!"

Lyra didn't appreciate the attempt at humour. In an ironic twist of fate, she found herself remembering only one specific part of her visit to the Sugarcube: the accusation which Axiom levelled at Snowy. Nix has destroyed entire nations, she recounted the words in her head. It seemed like a made-up threat at the time, but hearing Discord's story...

All the hairs on her back standing up, Lyra absent-mindedly noted how chilly the night air had suddenly become.

Kgh! One misstep and this can end reeeaaally badly.

She had already realised the chance of such risks, of course. But it was a lot different thinking about a theoretical possibility, compared to something that had actually happened.

"I guess there's a moral in there... but it beats me what it was. But enough on wishes and irrelevant kings of long-gone!" Discord broke into an abrupt cackle. He grabbed the crown from his head - surprisingly so, as Lyra was pretty sure the headgear wasn't there a moment ago - and tossed it over the wooden rail of the Golden Oak. The shiny rubies of the crown glittered in the moonlight, but their weak twinkling disappeared into the thick foliage mere moments later. His pupils in the corners of his eyes, Discord accepted the fact with a sour grimace; then he pointed a sharp claw at Lyra, and resumed in an upbeat tone. "Still waiting for my answer, o' great saviour of mine."

Thinking as hastily as she could, Lyra had only managed to realise two things.

First of all, Discord wasn't doing her the favour of letting her sidestep the question.

Secondarily, he wasn't doing her the favour of spilling any useful information either.

I have to guess a fancy answer to this one, she glanced away with a frown, her amber pupils resting on the distant, dark rooftops. Why would you ever want to erase somepony of memory... or out of existence, really. Extreme circumstances aside, I... I... uhhh, I...

"I have no idea," she said, biting onto her lower lip after she was done talking. In the end, she couldn't come up with any plausible scenario where that punishment made sense. 

Discord withdrew his extended arm and shook his head.

"Sure you do! There's at least one case you could base your answer on," he flashed his eyes at Lyra, his glare a pure beam of accusation. You lie - that was plastered over all his grimace. His words were only a tiny bit more refined than that. "You've just made use of this very punishment just now, after all!"

Hrmph. Lyra narrowed her eyes. And you were complaining about slander earlier...

"This isn't punishment. This is merely an extraordinary case," she declared firmly, her gaze meeting that of the draconequus. "I'm only doing this to save the whole world, Twilight included. I would never do this otherwise!"

"To save the world... hoo, that's one fancy goal." Discord whistled. He turned around fully and leaned back, his back resting against the wooden guard. "What does that make you then? A hero?"

Lyra bit onto her tongue. She had failed to realise, but she was blabbering again, saying things she hadn't thought through.

"Who knows," she whispered in a faint tone. She was a little surprised at how hard the admission was. "I may just be."

Shouldn't I be proud that I'm doing all this for the betterment of everypony...?

"Whoa. You really are half-baked." Discord snickered and leaned further back over the railing. He was looking at the starry sky, most of his snake-like body hanging over the darkness below. "You know, I've seen... haha, talked to a great deal of extraordinary individuals over my life. And they were always adamant in working towards the betterment of something."

Lyra drooped her ears and listened. She didn't really feel like enduring the lecture, but she didn't have the luxury of choosing either.

"Some of those fools were fighting to better their own lives. Those were my favourite kind!" Discord cackled. His voice was becoming strained; leaning over the guardrail wasn't a comfortable posture. "Other, more lunatic heroes fought to better society... somehow. These were always the murky, 'I am plenty sure my arbitrary goals will help ponies I've never even met' types. Crazies, all of them... throwing away their own happiness for the sake of others'."

He took a bit of pause there. He closed his eyes and breathed in loudly.

"And then, there was the last bunch: those who fought for mere ideals. The most dangerous lot," he formed the words as he squeezed the air from his lungs. "Ideals are really just abstract concepts, you see? And once it's but mere thoughts sitting at the top, the followers neither care about ponies, dragons... or even gods."

"Guess you're safe then. You never seemed like the idealist to me," Lyra gave the draconequus a sly grin and a dry snicker. "You're an egoist, through and through."

"Bwahah! Guilty as charged, your answer IS right! When I ruled, I erased those who betrayed me!" Discord broke into hollering laughter. He pushed himself up from the wooden railing and held his paw to his chest. "Quite honest of me, don't you think? Really proud of that, I am! Unlike the ordinary folks, I never made a big secret of it."

Lyra shook her head, a wry grin on her face. She had no idea how anyone could be so happy about being unashamedly self-centred.

"But as I've said, enough of long-gone kings! Let's talk about the heroes of today," Discord raised his right eyebrow, his chin resting in his paw, his mouth curling to a grin. "What would you think of a hero who fights not for herself, nor for her country?"

Jolting and gasping, Lyra snapped her head back to the draconequus. No names were said, but it was clear that it was she who was being examined.

"Imagine a pony who couldn't be fighting for herself, as she has done everything that would make her a public enemy." Discord thrummed his claws on his nose as he wondered aloud. "But this very pony couldn't be fighting for her country either, as she has just betrayed everything Equestria stands for... not to mention making enemies of those in charge of the place."

"I am helping Equestria!" Lyra lashed out, her angry words accompanied by a generous amount of spit. She yanked her hoof to her mouth; for a moment, she had completely forgotten who she was talking to.

"Oh-hoho! Surely you jest. You helped me - which, by definition, is rather bad news for pony-dom." Discord snickered. His scaled paw rested on his temple, a claw fiddling with his long eyebrow. "Were you helping Equestria, you would have brainwashed me even before I was released... instead of, you know, trying to rope me into escalating this trick into a full-blown crisis."

Eyes wide and ears drooping to horizontal, Lyra finally understood the accusation Discord was making.

"I am not an a weirdo fighting for some outlandish idea!" she blared, no longer caring if she was openly hostile to a godly draconequus. She had a long day behind her and her patience to act was running dry. "I am doing this to help everypony! To make everypony happy!"

"Everypony? You mean, both the bloke down the street who wants to stuff himself full for free... and the baker who hopes to get some bits for her hard work of making sweets?" Discord giggled and cocked his head to the side a tiny bit, just enough to showcase his curiosity.

Lyra closed her mouth and blinked silently. Such simplistic situations had never entered her scope. That having been said, she was sure there was a working solution to the problem - it only eluded her for the moment.

"I'm pretty sure they could... I've no idea! Couldn't they talk to each other or something?" she muttered and hung her head low. "Look, I know I'm not one hundred percent done with this plan yet. But I know it's going to work - it has to work. That's why I'm no fanatic. All I want is-"

"-make everypony happy. Yeah, yeah... think I've heard that already." Discord groaned. His head tilted backwards, his back bending over the guardrail; the countless stars of the night were reflected in his crimson eyes. "But true enough, you're no fanatic. Any of those would be tripping over their hooves by now, trying to win me over to their cause. You, yourself? You look as if you were waiting me to confirm your belief. Undecided much?"

Despite the very solid planks of wood beneath her hooves, Lyra felt ready to sink through the Golden Oak and disappear into the ground underneath. She couldn't bring herself to answer the question. She knew there was little point in lying, for Discord had already called her bluff. And this upset her. Her own behaviour upset her. That after all the preparations, after sacrificing Twilight Sparkle, despite the wonderful things she was striving to achieve... she was still wavering, despite everything.

The short-lived nature of her resolve bothered her. She understood: had she not locked herself into a set path by her abuse of Twilight, she may have backed off at that moment. Which was, of course, part of the reason she had settled on such a drastic path. She was going down the slope already, the momentum of her own actions driving her on with the plan.

She couldn't admit any of that, though. Confessing to her self was tough enough. Anypony else... no way.

"You're not self-centred enough to be a sociopath... but you don't have the faith to really believe in other ponies either. Whether they might offer a country or some whacky spiritual crutch," Discord kept on wondering aloud, spreading his arms along the guardrail to stabilize his awkward posture. "No matter how I look at you, all I see is an act. A half-baked pony who has a grand vision based on nothing, doing her darnest to hide that."

Lyra puckered her mouth. That claim was way off base. Her vision wasn't based on 'nothing'! She only wished that - that she hadn't seen how easily greed and egoism could break the thin sugar-coating on reality.

"Discord, I have been pretty patient so far..." Lyra rose her head. Her mane was waved around by the mild breeze, her voice more akin to a guttural growl. "But I don't need to keep listening to your insults if you don't-"

She was interrupted by the whole world going dark around her. No magic was involved this time; the sudden lights-out had been caused by a long piece of paper landing straight on her face. Cussing under her breath, Lyra yanked the unexpected piece of junk off her face - and gasped when she realised that her own Geis scroll had been flung back at her.

With no less than two signatures at the bottom.

"There you go. I look forward to seeing what a pony of your... ahem, 'moral backbone' can do with this sort of power."

Lyra yanked her head around, her amber eyes darting around in a frantic bid to locate the draconequus. She heard him talk just now, that was for certain; but Discord was nowhere to be seen anymore. Though frankly, a disembodied, ethereal voice was hardly a big surprise when dealing with Discord.

He could have turned invisible for all I know, Lyra shook her head with a frown. She then peeked once more at the signed Geis scroll - and shrugged, this time with a much happier expression. That alone made it worth to bear the verbal abuse of the draconequus. Besides, she had been fearing the possibility of Discord turning her inside out. A few harsh words were pretty tame in comparison.

Now she simply had to head down, grab a few maps of Canterlot and run as fast she possibly could, away from the draconequus.

"Hop to it, Snowy!" she barked and turned to the stairway leading down, back into the library. "Might as well grab the maps we need, since we're in the library and everything. You take the first floor, I scan the ground one!"





"Can't believe you're doting on her of all ponies." Discord groaned, his paw slowly sliding down his face. "I was fine with being rejected - I wouldn't court myself either. But to think you've rejected 'Tia, only to choose this indecisive dunce! 'Tia was at least completely believing in all that happy-fuzzy-world nonsense."

The remark was clearly not meant for Lyra, who had taken the stairs down already; the intended recipient seemed to have recognised that as well. The air on the opposing side of the observation roof began to wobble and distort; the straight lines of the wooden guard-rail shifted and bent as they took the shape of a long robe.

"It's still hard to believe that you can actually see me," the Source chuckle as it appeared out of thin air. "I really thought the last iteration of the invisibility spell would work. I guess I still need to hone my magic."

There was only way Discord could respond to that commendation. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Hard.

"Save your tongue. You should only lick hooves when it actually makes a difference," he stretched and pushed himself back to standing. "There's no need for the flattery when talking to me. There's hardly any fame in besting a lesser version of myself."

The dual-coloured eyes behind the robe narrowed to a slit.

"I am no lesser version. Did you forget it was me who had created you?" The Source stated, hints of pride appearing in the otherwise shamelessly flat tone. "Had I known my messing with this reality would be the cause of your existence here..."

"Created… hah! Still taking credit even where it's not due, huh?" Discord raised his eyebrow. "I still remember your surprise over the fact. Hardly according to plan, was it?"

"How much would you be willing to bet on that?" the Source sighed and turned away, its head tuned towards the Sugarcube in the distance. "Perhaps most of it was."

"Bwhaha! You do never change," Discord cackled wryly and folded his arms on his chest. "So how much is this according to your plan? Going by the last time 'Tia put me to sleep, I didn't expect to wake up in the middle of a mess."

"Didn't I tell you to ignore the unsightly details?" the Source's robe quivered as the pony shook its head. "All these sacrifices are for a specific purpose."

"Oh my. And now I understand how that Lyra wound up the way she is! Just look at you… such a lovely display of blind fanaticism!" Discord laughed and snapped his fingers. "Anyhow, would you mind buggering off for a sec? I've got this funny feeling I need to erase that Sparkle from everything written down... and from the servants' minds. Ah, sorry - all that, except the pesky exceptions."

The draconequus licked his lips and cocked his head sideways, a smile on his face.

"What an amusingly specific tingling this one is, the one in my head... do remind me that I really need to get in on this whole Geis-scroll business."

"You can't do that." The Source tried to interject. There wasn't any power behind the attempt, however; the game master was already in the process of sitting down, its tone more bored than upset. "Touching other servants by the means of a servant is impossible... and besides, memories are off-limits to you in the first place.  Your servant can only modify matter."

A roaring laughter cut through the night. Had the magical silence not been in effect, half of Ponyville would have woken up rather early.

"Bwahahha! When was the last time I followed your rules, again? Oh right - before I got stronger than you!" Discord guffawed, using his arms to keep his rocking chest from hurting too much. "Dearie... your, quote-unquote, 'servants' are nothing but a fancy way of channelling your power. Just why would I resort to them now? We've long established that anything you can do, I can do better."

"You've agreed to not interrupt my game." The Source shook its head again. "And neither to break it."

"Oh quit yapping. If it's that silly old promise you're worried about - well, I'm still keeping to it! Heck, your newest little pet even put it into her Geis scroll. I am forbidden from wreaking havoc until Lyra either wins or... well, retires." Discord spread his arms wide and threw a wink at the game master. "But you see, I've got things to do before that vacation is in effect. Can't help it; the same fancy scroll binds me to carry out her wish. Besides..."

His chubby arm dropping back to his side, Discord pointed a clawed at the robed pony.

"You wouldn't mind me upsetting Equestria a little more now , would you? I would be sorely disappointed if this wasn't part of your plan already."

A toothy grin flashed beneath the game master's robes, the sickly light of the moon highlighting the set of white, draconian fangs.

"Well, what can I say? I am you in a lot of ways."
> 35 - Haunted
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

While technically a monarchy, Equestria was a surprisingly laid-back place. The Princess - and later, Princesses - never really interfered with their subjects' lives too much. A few laws were blocked, a few others sneaked through byzantine maze of bureaucracy... but Celestia made a point to keeping out of her kingdom's everyday life.

Going down that path was the wisest decision of her life. She was surrounded by advisors who, as a team, were more knowledgeable than her; she could usually just parrot their findings and be in the right. The lower tiers of the government, the governors and the mayors, were much more involved with the local topics than she ever could be. Even if she was an immortal with thousands' of years of experience, she was just a single mind, after all; she couldn't possibly be as smart as thousands of ponies combined.

It was a gradual shift, of course; one that had occurred without her noticing at first. It simply took more and more advisors to answer all the questions thrown at her, more and more bureaucracy to handle the fiddly issues of state management... and before long, she had found herself largely irrelevant. She could have placed anypony else in her stead on the throne, and Equestria would have kept on going all the same.

If only that were a real possibility.

She had often dreamed of doing just that. It would have been nice, being free of all the empty nonsense her life had become.

No more daily meetings where all her purpose was doing the opening and ending ceremonies, with the occasional nods thrown in-between.
No more visits from commoners, who only came so they could bask in the proximity of Sun Princesses... as if the fact granted them some importance.
No more nobles pestering her about pointless grievances - squabbles she didn't have the willingness nor the patience to partake in.

Oddly enough, the fact she hadn't done anything for the last few centuries had never stopped anypony from coming to her and rambling away anyway.

"I wonder if I have an advisor for cleaning up all those silly issues," Celestia hummed and rolled around. The tall grass felt nice. Unkempt and wild, the meadow may have lacked the elegance of the carefully trimmed fields of the Palace Garden - but as far as the Princess cared, being in the middle of nowhere was a huge advantage in itself.

"It would make sense for me to have hired a pony to deal with all the complaints flowing in," she pointed a hoof at the sky, blotting the obnoxious yellow spot out. She did not enjoy being blinded by the sunlight. "Though if that happened, then all those complaining ponies would be in the right to see me. Ugh..."

Sighing in utter dejection, Celestia dropped her legs back on the grass. Only her body had managed to escape from Canterlot this time, as it seemed. Her thoughts remained in that gold-laced, white marble cage of hers.

"A victim of my own success, am I not?" she groaned with her eyes closed. "Haaa, gloomy thoughts. This vacation is nothing short of a disaster. I even forgot to bring the letters with me! I really promised that I would catch up with my backlog when I had time-"

Lying limp in her bed of green grass, Celestia found something rather strange about that promise of hers. She couldn't for the love of her life recall just what kind of letters she had been thinking about. She was certain there were heaps of opened but barely-skimmed-through letters in her room, but she had absolutely no clue just what they were about. Which was funny, as there weren't many ponies she had such long-winded mail exchange with.

"The last time I got this many letters... was when I ordered my student to send them," Celestia held a hoof to her temple. The hoof smelled of freshly crushed grass, but the scent failed to cast her troubling thoughts away. Her student, the pony who had written her so many reports...

She flinched and hopped back onto her hooves, her care-free mood all but gone. Even after so many years, merely remembering Sunset Shimmer was like twisting a dagger in her heart.

Slowly pacing ahead and profusely shaking her head, Celestia tried her best to get that failure out of her mind. The feat didn't come easily. Nopony had ever placed the blame on her, but the story of Sunset had still weighed heavily on her. It was such a tragedy that it made her mend her ways, swearing off from keeping students. That's why she had been alone for the last two decades-

-only, who the heck wrote me all those letters then?

Stopping at a stream, Celestia leaned forward and stared down, watching her own frowning expression reflect in the clear water.

Haah-haa... I have really gone and done it this time. Seems like I have to abandon my vacation and go back to Canterlot now... or else this matter will bug me the whole time. Meh. Why can the Great Almighty Sun Princess of Everything That Is Holy just never catch a break?! Just once? Just for a little while? Is that really too much to ask for?

"MORNING!"

Juxtaposed to the quiet chirping of birds, the loud shout was like a cannon going off next to her ears. Celestia wasn't sure how the next few seconds played out; she simply found herself sitting in the stream, panting and glaring at her own sister.

"What." Luna blinked. She was taken aback by the reaction; she cocked her head to the side and repeated the same question again. "What?"

Though it wasn't Celestia's head that had been submerged in the stream, the cold water did wonders. She felt her anger rapidly evaporating, leaving only the cold ashes of calm resignation behind.

"So there was no vacation in the first place," she sighed.

"Really? This sure looks like one to us," Luna sat down and glanced around. "Unless you came to an uninhabited forest just to study the ecology of wild animals."

A groan rang out beneath the lush tree canopies. Celestia shook her head and rubbed the side of her head with a hoof. This move, in turn, made her mane all wet; her leg, along with the lower half of her body, was soaked from the cold stream.

"I mean, this is definitely not real." She stared at the dripping hoof. Even with all the years behind her, lucid dreams had remained desperately confusing.

"Well... it obviously is not." Luna raised her eyebrow. "How could we be here otherwise?"

Obviously, Celestia echoed that carelessly offensive word in her head. Well yeah, obviously. Duh. I should have been suspicious that I managed to get a proper vacation in the first place!

She stood back up and promptly shuddered. The air, so comfortably warm mere minutes ago, now felt chilly. It was strange though, thinking about her situation. She felt cold and wet, all while knowing that she was sleeping sound in her bed - warm, snug and... and dry, most importantly.

She couldn't do anything but smile wryly at such degree of self-delusion.

The mind is rather easily fooled, is it not?

"Anyway, it is morning now!" Luna pointed a hoof at the clear sky. "...or is going to be, once a certain pony remembers to bring the sun up. So wakey-wakey, sister."





A wild shove of her leg, and the white blanket flew off the bed, landing straight on the floor. Then some careful rubbing around the eyes, followed by a yawn as big as her jaws were capable of. All done in accordance of the thousands' year old checklist; and once all were complete, a grumbling, drowsy Celestia began to waddle off her bed.

It was ridiculous, but the mornings of the Sun Princess were hard. Those which began before ten o'clock, anyway.

...which, given Celestia's duties regarding the sun, meant all of them.

Even if I can not get a student, I should absolutely find a replacement! she groaned as she gave her burning eyes another rub.

"You know, I seem to recall you singing an aria during this scene... once."

Snorting and twisting her around in a calculatedly slow fashion, Celestia moved her magenta eyes to the white lion lying on the top of her baldachin.

There was only one instance of her ever having done that. And it was in the middle of the day, too; a staged performance, just so one of her underlings could record it onto tape. It was one of the most embarrassing part of her life, and certainly not something she wanted to be reminded of.

"Pfft. As if I could do that with my morning mood," she forced a very misshapen grin. "All I can offer you is a song about how much I long for my morning coffee. It would be a pretty short one, too."

"Oh-hoho! Somepony's moody again!" the lion broke into a cackle, his white mane obscuring his sapphire-blue eyes. "Want me to fix that? A healthy dose of determination, that's what you need! What you say, honey? One jolly morning, huh?"

Celestia eyed the white lion with deep suspicion. It was a matter of principle; she couldn't trust anyone who was upbeat in the morning. Ever. Also, such jokes were a lot less amusing when coming from the servant who could freely mess with anypony's feelings.

"Thanks, Lust... but I would rather have coffee adjust my mood." She turned away, toward the huge windows with the night sky beyond.

"Eh, you're just being picky again. Both are artificial anyway! But... a no is a no. Whatever!" Lust dropped his head back onto his paws with a low, almost cat-like purr. "Just shout if you change your mind."

"Always so eager. Seriously..." Celestia mumbled, cutting her own complaints short to place a yawn in the middle of her sentence. There was no point in starting her day with a tirade. She channelled her energies into something more useful instead, and began her morning routine. 

The morning routine was the second in the long line of things that made her mornings so miserable. Her long, flowing mane looked absolutely gorgeous during the day, but it was a real nightmare after waking up. It would always wind up tangled in ways she had never considered possible. No shampoo seemed to cure that ailment; only her trusted comb, some vigorous application of force and a healthy dose of pain.

Frowning in anticipation, Celestia bumbled to her drawer. She yanked the top shelf open and pulled the gold-lined comb out. She then raised the tool to her head, grit her teeth - and then hesitated, blinking aloofly.

There were dozens of scrolls on the drawer's top. They didn't seem like official business; they lacked the seal and bore no title outside, a serious violation of the formal code. They could have been diplomatic texts, but Celestia immediately rejected that possibility. She couldn't have left a single one of those sitting around unanswered for too long, let alone dozens. Had she been that careless, she would have been spending her nights on never-ending meetings with ambassadors instead of sleeping.

No, those had to be personal letters.

A lot of personal letters, going by the sheer amount of scrolls piled on the drawer. 

Putting the comb away for the moment, Celestia mused on that fact. The last time she had that many letters... when was it?

The question proved to be a tricky one; she had to work her mind for a while.

It was probably when I fell for that sham of a warlord.

The memory brought a chuckle out of her. What a funny romance, that one was! ...but it took place a few thousand years ago. She didn't have a single letter from that era. Neither wood, nor skin based papers could last that long sadly.

Shaking her head a little, Celestia had no choice but to go with the alternate explanation. Those letters were from her student.

Former student, she corrected herself.

That theory didn't make much sense either, though. She had all of Sunset Shimmer's letters sealed away in the depths of the Palace Archives. Why would they reappear on her desk all of a sudden?

"Lust!" she yelled without looking back, her eyes stuck on the hastily rolled up scrolls. "You know anything about these letters?"

"Nope." The white lion rumbled in a low tone. "I've been staring at them since midnight, wondering where they came from all of a sudden. Maybe they were here and I just didn't pay attention to them... I guess? Anyway, I was kinda stumped about them myself. I did want to ask you later, but I figured that I could wait until you woke up proper. You're really grumpy until your ceremonial coffee, hon'."

"Quaint," Celestia hummed. She reached to the nearest scrolls and unfurled it. It was a letter - a shortly-worded one, too.


Dear Princess Celestia,

Today I have learnt-


Dropping the open scroll back onto the drawer, Celestia gave her eyes a strong rub. This letter was from a student, there was no doubt about it. But that writing... 

She could easily recognize all of her students' writing, and that one certainly didn't belong to Sunset.

What the heck is going on here, she wondered as she grabbed the comb. No matter; whatever mystery this was, it had to wait. Princess Celestia's schedule didn't allow for the occasional oddity, no matter how badly she craved a change from the usual. She had to bring the sun up and appear at the morning breakfast proper; everything else could only happen after those events had taken place.





As usual, the table was covered by a sparkling white cloth. Thick cotton fabric, with no extra decoration; the same way it had been for the last two hundred years, the last time Her Highness had ordered a change in the breakfast etiquette.

The rest of the objects laid out were bristling with excess gold, however. Celestia eyed one teacup in particular, its handle made out of solid gold, shaped in the form of a twining branch. Narrowing her eyes to get a better focus, Celestia could even make out the smaller details, such as the surface of the branch peeling in places. An absolutely crazy level of detail - and absolutely pointless, too.

It was just a teacup, after all.

Why does it even HAVE a handle? Celestia groaned and rested her head on her hoof. To her best knowledge, only gryphons and the more sophisticated dragonkin used handles. To a pony with unicorn magic, hot porcelain posed no issues.

The more she thought about it, the only possible reason she could see for the handle was giving the craftspony more surface to show off.

Coincidentally, that was probably the sole reason she didn't break the thing right away. Anything she did carried weight, and she didn't want to cause the craftspony any trouble. She simply made a mental note to have somepony put that particular cup away, into the ever-growing collection of overdecorated dishes.

She gave a slight nod. A waitress appeared next to her right away, pouring some hot coffee into the cup and vanishing the next moment. Celestia watched the murky brown liquid; it smelled like it was the perfect blend. Mild Arabica coffee with three sugar cubes and a hint of cinnamon.

She had enjoyed the same coffee for however long she could care to remember. Probably everypony in the kitchen had known that; her staff knew her preferences inside out. She wouldn't have been surprised to come across a manual at some point... something like a Quick How-To Into Preparing Meals for Princess Celestia.

Chuckling to herself, she tried to imagine what she would find in such a book.

Since a lot of her meals were served on protocol events, she had no choice but to endure the same kind of dishes over and over and over. It was dull; so dull that she could have started eating cotton and not notice the difference. So, to preserve her sanity - and her willingness to taste - she invented her own little system for spicing up her personal meals.

The first step was to take a random piece of food from the table. The possibilities were wide; she counted no less than twenty different kinds of dishes in front of her. She wanted to give all of them a fair chance, though. She took the spoon from her coffee, rolled it on the plate - and then grabbed whatever it wound up pointing at.

And so, honey flavoured bread it was. She took four slices.

The next step was repeating the same gamble, this time to pick the topping. It turned out to be potato salad with mayonnaise.

Using her magic to scoop a whole bunch of the white-coloured salad, Celestia glanced to her side. There were always some members of the Guard standing at the door. They called themselves Palace Guards, but they were quite like the regular troopers. They wore golden armour and bore that stoic, I-swear-I-am-not-thinking-about-anything face all the time.

Celestia was thankful for that weird stoicism. It was the centrepiece to ensuring that she could mix up new flavours all the time.

Humming a tune, she picked the next topping. There was no more spoon-spinning involved; this is where the challenge began. She had to make those two colts make faces with as few choices as possible. As long as they were able to maintain that indifferent look, her meal wasn't exquisite enough.

Picking some pickled cucumbers from yellow porcelain dish, she surpassed a giggle. The colt on the left was already staring wide-eyed.

Already? Ah, a new recruit I guess. Celestia noted with a dry chuckle, then turned her attention to the older stallion on the right. You, on the other hoof! You look like you have seen things. All right! Let's see if I can whip up something even you have not seen yet!





"Mmmm," Celestia purred as she crashed onto her bed, the force of the impact catapulting the white pillows in the air. "This was a REALLY good breakfast today! I should get the name of that Guard. He could really help me out when I feel low on inspiration."

"Yeah, well, I think he won't be available for a while..." Lust rolled his eyes as he hopped back to his place, on the top of the baldachin. "His therapist will probably bless your name for the guaranteed monthly income, though."

"Pfft, please." Celestia waved a hoof in utter dismissal. She was quite certain the white lion couldn't see her through the baldachin's thick top, but it was the thought that counted. "He should be grateful to me! He and his commanding officer as well. Seriously, how could these colts be fit for service if my breakfast is enough to break them?"

"You make a fair point there, dear." Lust sighed from above. "But then again, sweet mustard on strawberry pie. Let me reiterate: sweet mustard. On STRAWBERRY PIE."

"Hush. You are being too loud!" Celestia groaned and covered her face with her hooves. "What if Chrysalis hears of our big weakness? Or Discord - oh my Gods, Discord! Or Sombra! Imagine the horror if any of those knew of this gaping hole in our defences!"

The noise of a lion snickering was the answer, and that was enough for Celestia. She was grinning in earnest already. She did enjoy making fun of the Guard every now and then. It was only fair, for their incompetence was one of the prime reasons why she was never allowed to retire.

No sooner than finishing that thought did she start feeling guilty about it.

It wasn't really incompetence per se. The troopers weren't at fault; they had taken their jobs quite seriously. They were simply unsuited for actual combat. They didn't know how to make a stand. It wasn't really their fault, though. They had grown up in a soft world, one without any major conflicts or threats. What could have tempered their resolve?

Perhaps if I had let a few villains run amok... then I would have a proper army, too. Celestia sighed sourly, her eyebrows wrinkling at the idea. But then again, I could never face myself in the mirror had I  done that. For all those years, I did nothing but dream of a world without sorrow... surely I can't change my mind now that it is here.

There was no choice but to lock all those villains away. If this taught Equestria that they only needed Princess Celestia as their saviour... then she had no choice but accept the task and rise to the demand. Even if it chained her to a position she had grown so tired of.

A victim of my own success... indeed.

Squeezing her eyelids and breathing in loudly, Celestia moved her leg a little, gently rubbing her forehead. Her own success... that didn't sound right. She recalled the way she had battled Chrysalis, Discord, Sombra... and even her own sister. But all of those battles had taken place centuries ago. As far as any mortal could have cared, they were ancient history; the stuff of legends, even.

Huh?

Something felt off about that string of victories.

Lifting the hooves from her head and staring at the golden horseshoes, Celestia was pretty sure that the last challenges were much more recent. Luna had returned a mere few years ago. Discord had broken free last year!

The golden, sun-adorned horseshoes filling her view, Celestia was absolutely sure that she had not dirtied her own hooves at those encounters. She would have remembered had she had done so.

Rolling around and pushing herself up, she gave the side of her head a scratch.

Just who the heck fought for Equestria this time, then?

She bit onto her lip. This wasn't one of those funny short-circuits in her memory, but an alarming gap instead. These were recent events - and very important ones too. Forgetting about a pony who could stand up to Luna, or about one who had managed to put Discord back into his place...

Such remarkable deeds could not be forgotten about. Those ponies either needed statues in the hall of greatest heroes, or entries in the book of greatest threats.

They needed to be accounted for, one way or another.

"There is no way I would be this scatterbrained." Celestia mumbled, her hoof pressing so hard against her temple that she almost knocked her own crown off. "There has to be an explanation...!"

"Thinking about the letters again?"

Yanking her head up, Celestia gasped. Lust had completely misread her aloof musing, but the old coot made a great point nevertheless. All those letters, coming from a student she couldn't recognize... all these milestone events she couldn't attribute to anypony...

Celestia sprang up from her bed and rushed to the drawer, even using her wings to propel herself faster.

There was no mistake. All these strange events were related.

They have to be!

Opening half a dozen scrolls at the same time, she only prayed that she would be quick enough to realize where the error lay.





"Hon', this is way too much bother," Lust frowned. His face was distorted as he was pressing against the wall, slowly sliding to the floor. "I say we name her the Elusive Penpal and be done with it."

Crumpled and intact scrolls surrounding her in all directions, Celestia did not take the remark well.

"I knew her well... no, this was beyond that! She was important... that is still not right. We were important to each other... gah!" she yelled and flung a scroll at the white lion. The scroll didn't bounce back, of course; it simply flew through the ghostly creature, cracking loudly once it reached the marble wall behind. "Look at these! ALL OF THESE! Forty letters! I exchanged almost forty letters with her!"

"Which lets us know that... she liked writing very much?" Lust grimaced, holding his paw vertical next to his head. "I bet she liked listening to her own voice, too."

Celestia wasn't really impressed by the joke. She briefly considered throwing another scroll to get her point across, but she didn't want to break anything in her private chamber. It's not like Lust was any good at reading such subtle signals anyway. Not once his mind was made up.

She needed a better demonstration than an angry tirade; so she lifted another scroll and held it in the air. She needed that little help. Three dozen scrolls were a little too many to memorize after a single read.

"This was far from simply killing time, Lust. I actually sent her on errands... no, these are more like trials. Look at this one!" she yanked on the scroll, the bottom weight rocking around to the motion. "This pony faced Luna, apparently! ...and then I made her the Element of Magic. Instead of, you know, thanking her by giving her some title and piece of a land. And then just asking her to live peacefully, staying away from foreboding ruins."

Lust put a paw to the wall and pushed himself upright, his face taking a more serious expression.

"Oh, the thing with Luna... uh. That... that was one complicated incident, honey. Let's not poke it too much, okay? In the end, six nice ponies went in, and then six nice ponies and a nice princess came out. Everything went well, so let's not waste- uh, wait. Six...?" he rumbled and then bit onto his tongue, his sapphire irises shrinking to two small dots.

Celestia understood the reason behind that shocked expression. She could have bet anything that she and her servant had the exact same thoughts going through their minds.

"There are six Elements, indeed. But... you can only remember five bearers, right?" she asked with a wry grin on her face. "Still saying that I am blowing the matter out of proportion?"

"This isn't right." Lust scratched the thick white mane on the bottom of his neck. He hummed to himself for a while, then turned his blue eyes back to his master. "Eh, details. This isn't really about the Elements anyway, is it now?"

Celestia furled the scroll up and tossed it back onto the drawer, doing her best to ignore the edge of her servant's words.

"Bwahah! Of course it is not!" she cackled with terribly feigned happiness. "I mean, come on Lust! When did we need those Elements? Apart from every single time a major threat appeared?!"

That was an unsightly outburst, and Celestia made a mental note to avoid any more in the future. She found herself staring at her servant, panting and her wings spread wide. For a Princess, such display of raw emotions was strictly forbidden. What could she expect of her subjects if she were this unrestrained?

She cleared her throat and quickly folded her wings.

"Hon'... you wore the six Elements for almost a thousand years, all on your own. Surely you can do so again, should the need arise. I'm sure that determination wouldn't be a problem," Lust threw a sly wink at her. "I may be rusty from disuse, but I'm pretty sure I could still make anypony fierce... or fiercely loyal."

Celestia noted the offer with a bittersweet smile.

"Thanks... I'll keep it in mind," she mumbled under her breath, her gaze already back to the scrolls on the drawer.

There was something vexing about them, but she couldn't really put a hoof on the feeling. The suspicious lack of a particular name, perhaps. Why would that pony - whoever she had been - write all these mails, yet never once scribble her name there? Why would the other five Elements be also so careful to never mention her?

None of that made any sense.

Could have somepony edited these scrolls? Celestia mused. She could feel her head pull as she pushed her mind, trying to envision all the possible scenarios. But for somepony to sneak into her room and edit all those scrolls without fail...

No, that's impossible.

"You're not worried about the Elements. Not right now." Lust's booming voice interrupted her musing, forcing her attention to return to the white lion. "You're worried about this disappearing pony, aren't you."

Celestia snorted and gave the white lion a momentary, but very angered glare.

"I know way too well, honey. You're worried that she was a student of yours."

That was the right button to push, and Celestia only realized that a little too late.

"No I am not!" she boomed, her point underscored by the loud stomp her hoof made on the floor. "Absolutely NOT! Sunset was the last student I ever had! I never hired anypony else specifically because of that debacle! Because if I were to- if I were to..."

She faltered and turned away. She couldn't finish that sentence; something deep inside her had put a lock on her mouth.

"Don't worry, I get you! You didn't want to break anypony else." Lust reared back, holding both his paws in front of him. "...and your own heart either, of course."

Celestia relaxed, almost collapsing onto the drawer as the strength disappeared from her limbs. She had been so focused on uncovering the identity of the mysterious penpal that she didn't have the mind to think about the other issues.

No, I simply didn't want to think about them, she ceded to herself.

"But that's not like you, hon'." Lust carried on, his voice both aloof and berating at the same time. "You're not the kind who just gives up like that. Not that abruptly. Not without agonizing over the what-ifs for a few centuries."

Clenching her teeth, Celestia found no way to argue against that point. It was as if her plans to obtain a new student had simply vanished after the betrayal of Sunset Shimmer. This despite her reasons for wanting a student in the first place - her own stagnation, the worry that she couldn't rise to the future challenges.

That she might see her precious Equestria destroyed by a force she couldn't defend against.

But even so...

"Then why is there absolutely no sign left of this student?!" she snorted and pounded her hoof on the drawer, overturning a quill and sending scrolls rolling all over the place. "I could understand me, knowing there are other servants out there! But what of you, Lust? Why do YOU fail to remember this pony? Are you servants not immune to this kind of tomfoolery?!"

That was a sound argument, as evidenced by Lust's inability to come up with any reply. He hummed and rubbed his chin, only stopping when loud knocks started coming from the door.

"The Princess is busy!" Celestia yelled almost instantly, not even giving her visitor the chance to begin explaining. "Unless the world is on fire, you will have to come back later!"

Much to her surprise, the handle clicked and turned, shortly followed by the door creaking. And much to her absolute astonishment, none other than Luna walked in.

"This Princess is also busy, and the world is kind of burning right now." Luna said without any hint of humour in her voice.

Rubbing the ridge of her nose, Celestia was now sure that this was one of those days - when she needed a whole pot of coffee just to get through the morning.





"AND JUST WHEN WERE YOU PLANNING TO TELL ME?!"

Though it was because of her ageless body, it still had to be stressed: despite her age, Luna still possessed extraordinary reflexes. She dodged both scrolls as if they were nothing, flicking her head to the right and then to the left in the exact right moments.

Speeding past their intended target, both scrolls crashed against the white wall of the room. Two loud cracks and they were both no more, leaving nothing but shattered wood and torn paper behind.

"It is as we have just explained. Discord is gone - and by all accounts, he must have been released last night." Luna reiterated. Her calm voice, while normally great for curbing emotional outbursts, had only served to further enrage Celestia this time though.

"WHY WAS I NEVER TOLD?!" she shrieked and slammed her rear hoof into the drawer. The old wooden panels creaked and groaned - but held together by some miracle. "This-! This is-!"

Luna wasn't in one of her panicky moods. She simply raised her eyebrow, watching her sister freak out the same way a scientist studies an interesting, previously unknown kind of butterfly.

"We believed there was no point in bothering our beloved sister before breakfast. Discord has been on the loose for hours already. Were he up to something, he would have made his move already." She explained her rationale in her annoyingly calm manner. "You are free to join the investigation of course, should you feel like it."

Celestia couldn't bring herself to answer. She was piecing it all together, and every puzzling oddity seemed to gain a new, foreboding dimension she hadn't previously thought of. The odd, obviously manipulated scrolls and the pony who she couldn't recall, the missing sixth Element...

"The Element!" she gasped and snapped her head to Luna. "We need all six Elements to seal Discord! We need to-!"

A metallic clatter was the answer. Luna produced a ruby-like gem from thin air, then unceremoniously dropped it to Celestia's hoof.

"The Element of Magic," Lust whispered in the background, his voice accurately mirroring the same befuddlement Celestia felt. "But how...?"

"We found it in the Garden, near where the Discord-statue used to be." Luna explained, then rolled her head around. It was the first time Celestia could notice, but her sister looked tired. About as tired as anypony would have been after a long night spent investigating.

"Well I'll be darned."

The short - and little bit vulgar - response was from Lust, but it still could have passed for Celestia's own thoughts.

It may have been conjecture, but the proof seemed pretty damning on first sight.

Whoever wielded the Element released Discord, Celestia reached to the ruby gem, her whole body trembling as she breathed. It seemed so logical in hindsight; no ordinary magic could break the binds which the Elements had created. And since only one of the six bearers had disappeared...

Holding the ruby so close that her hot breath fogged up the shiny surface, Celestia was confident that she had cracked this puzzle.

Discord could easily account for all the oddities regarding scrolls and memories. Well, aside from the fact that such surgical operations were never his style. Chaos or not, even he was a creature of habit - and his habit was grandeur. He would have sooner brought the sky down - literally - than fiddle around with minuscule details such as an individual pony.

"Is there a problem?" Luna shifted around, eyeing her sister with a hint of bemusement. "You were screaming a moment ago... but fell silent as soon as we presented you the Element."

Celestia didn't bother to answer. She absent-mindedly triggered the Element, turning the fancy artefact into the necklace it truly was; then she measured the object with utmost care, trying to imagine the pony who had worn it the last time.

"Uh..." Luna tried to interject, but the uncharacteristically meek intermission bore no fruit.

"Honey believes her student had released Discord," Lust answered in his master's stead, with a hint of tenseness in his otherwise amused tone.

Snapping her head to the white lion, Luna finally let some emotion slip onto her face.

"Say what? The student of our dearest sister?! But...!" she gasped, her gaze wandering around as she rummaged inside her head. "But she never had a student since- we mean- she never had a student ever since we returned!"

Staring at the glowing necklace, Celestia gave that remark a sombre chuckle.

"I think that is precisely what Discord wants us all to believe."





"There was a bit of commotion, but I have informed everypony that all your scheduled appointments have been cancelled, Highness." Kibitz took a respectful bow. He then cleared his throat and straightened back up. "But there are some guests you will have to meet, I'm afraid. The envoys from Saddle-Arabia insisted on meeting you after their long journey; it didn't seem wise to turn them down. They might take it as a rude gesture. The most I could do was give them a room and tell them that you will be available in a few days - as your new schedule permits, of course."

Nodding absent-mindedly, all Celestia had understood was that she had a few days free of the usual obligations.

To think it was as simple as asking.

"Splendid job, Kibitz." She gave the old unicorn a tired, but thoroughly honest smile. "Be sure to remind me to give you a few days off... uh, sometime. Some less crazy time."

"I am flattered, Highness." Kibitz nodded with a badly suppressed grin, then took his watch out of his red garment. "But there is really no need for you to be concerned. Should I need a break, I can assure you: it will be properly scheduled well in advance."

Taking the token bow, Kibitz turned around and headed out of the room. Celestia couldn't help but admire the clockwork precision that pony operated with. For so many years, it seemed like Kibitz was the only one who could cope with the never-ending chaos of Canterlot's bureaucracy. Indeed, there had been considerably fewer lost cases since he had began his job as an organiser-advisor.

I am really going to miss him, Celestia mused sourly, giving the departing figure a long stare. Kibitz wasn't exactly a young pony, after all. Judging by her experience, Celestia gave him twenty more years or so. Were that anypony else, they would have retired already; but to Kibitz, the busy castle seemed like the natural plane of existence. He would never admit, but he was only at home when he was bringing order to that special brand of madness.

It promised to be some really difficult years, the ones following his... departure. On that thought, Celestia put a hoof on her forehead and let go of a trembling sigh.

It didn't seem right, having all those wonderful ponies around her - and then have them leave her on her own all the time. It was a fact of her life, but it was also a fact she could never get fully used to.

"Well... that went easy!" Lust interrupted her gloomy thoughts. The white lion hopped down from the baldachin and giggled loudly, landing on the floor just as the door shut. "Or rather, he makes it look easy, hehe! The old coot is a born organiser, isn't he? I still remember when my honey tried revamping every schedule... the disaster of 446. Ah, good ol' times!"

Grunting as she got off from the floor, Celestia rolled her eyes at the mere mention. A lot of things happened in 446 - but she knew what her servant had been referring to. It was the last time she had tried to lead Equestria solely on her own. It was a pretty frustrating experience, one that nicely highlighted her limits in coping with copious amounts of printed documents.

It took ten Guards to dig her out when the largest pile collapsed on her. Sure, she could have teleported out... but she welcomed the break, taking a nap under the sea of papers.

Good old times, indeed.

It was a lot harder to sneak a nap into her schedule nowadays. Kibitz made sure of that.

"So... what are we going to today, hon'?" Lust rolled his head around, also stretching his paws during the process. "The same thing we do every day?"

"Not this time." Celestia chuckled. She yanked the Element of Magic out of a drawer and clasped it onto her neck, careful that the gold ornament didn't tear her mane in the process. "We are going out today. There is work to do."

"The investigation?" Lust motioned at the window with his nose, then squinted at the white alicorn. "I thought Luna was taking care of that already."

Her head slowly turning to the window as her eyes scanned the gardens below, Celestia bit onto her lower lip... then touched the amulet on her neck, and shook her head.

"This was my student..." she muttered as an uncomfortable shiver ran down her spine. "This is my responsibility."

Why did I even think that it was a good idea? Was Sunset not a lesson good enough?

"It's precisely because of that fact you shouldn't go," Lust moaned, his paw dug deep into his thick white mane. By the small stroking motions, he was scratching the back of his neck. "Do pardon me for saying this, but your relationship with your students isn't very healthy of late."

A loud snort echoed in the royal chamber.

"Healthy!" Celestia snickered and rubbed her forehead, still facing the window. "Funny you would say that, when they always end up dying."

"Hon'... allow me to break the sad news to you. The mortality ratio of mortal ponies is still at a steady one hundred percent." Lust moaned. "Your students were crafty little ponies from first to last, but I don't think they were special enough to... well, you know. To live forever."

"Quite the lazy excuse for me rushing the best towards an early grave," Celestia rumbled and leaned forward, her head bumping against the window. A loud clang assaulted her ears; the tip of her crown had scratched against the smooth glass. Celestia clenched her teeth for a moment, then silenced the noise by keeping her head in place.

"They knew what they were getting into. You can't exactly make a worthy student just by stuffing their heads full of books, can you now?" Lust spoke, calmly and with a bit of chiding in his tone. He may have been getting tired of the discussion, and nopony could have faulted him for that; he and his master had gone over this topic more times than either of them cared to count. "Only pressure can make diamonds."

Celestia watched the white face in the window make a grimace.

"And was it really necessary?" she lamented as a thousand years' of memories twisted her features. "Putting all those poor devils through all those trials, preparing them to rise to the occasion in case I could not..."

Her teeth bumped as she cut her musing short. There was no need to spell it out. Lust understood the issue the same well as she did, after all.

During all those years, she had never failed. Not a single time. She had veered close to the edge sometimes - but came out on top anyway. Which, while a wonderful exhibit of her tenacity and determination, had also rendered those students largely redundant.

All those lives spent in her service - all wasted for an eventuality that, in the end, never came.

It seemed wasteful. Irrecoverably and sinfully wasteful.

"You're simply an immortal, hon'. Don't act as if you were supposed to be infallible all as well." Lust grumbled, audibly irritated by the tenacious pessimism of his master. "You were simply looking out for your kingdom. It would be kinda' late to look for a backup pony after you were beaten by a villain, right?"

Celestia sighed loudly. That was true. So true that she had even used that excuse many times, in fact.

Excuses would never excuse the poor decisions I have made, though... she mused as her mirror image disappeared behind the thin layer of mist.

"Besides, it's not like you asked unreasonable things of them." Lust continued. "This whole story would sound a lot different if you made them fight your battles... but you never did that."

"What about this one, then?" Celestia giggled in a low tone, her hoof poking the amulet on her neck. "This story with Discord."

"Keh! I doubt you would willingly send anypony to face Discord!" Lust snorted loudly. "If you ask me? He simply broke free on his own, and your student tried to stop him. Wrong place in the wrong time and all that."

Celestia hummed faintly, going over that idea multiple times. She finally turned around and faced her servant, her mouth curling to a warm smile.

"Thanks, Lust. This... means a lot to me," she mumbled and felt all kinds of stupid. That lion sure knew how to poke at her heartstrings! She was feeling like a stupid little filly again, so unabashedly thankful.

In truth, she didn't really mind. That warm feeling in her chest - it had been so long since she had been placated.

I really need a break from this place, she scratched the side of her head, then broke into an awkward giggle.

Too bad the feeling didn't last long. Loud knocks rang out from the door, plunging the white alicorn back to the mundane matters of reality.

"Who is that?" she yelled, hastily rubbing her mane. She had no idea how she looked, but she had to be somewhat proper in case anypony barged in. "I believe I have been clear: no visitors today!"

"Bunch of useless gits, that Guard..." Lust groaned and pushed his back against the wall. "They have the worst sense of timing, too."

"Sorry your Highness, but this is important!" came the voice from the other side of the door. "This pony came to the castle a short while ago and claims to know you."

Celestia and Luna glanced at each other, exchanging a few disbelieving blinks.

"Is there anypony in Equestria who would fail to know me?" Celestia finally blurted out.

"I... uh..."

The Guard on the other side of the door fell silent. He was obviously unprepared for that comeback - Celestia could almost see him fiddling around in discomfort.

"Well... I mean... your Highness, I meant it kinda' differently. This pony claims to know you personally," the poor trooper tried for a second time. "I mean... I can't really recall seeing her before, but... this pony claims she's your student. Should I-"

The mouth of the trooper was still open when the door was thrown aside, the wooden pane moving so fast that the breeze ruffled the young colt's mane. It was hardly a proper thing to do, scaring the Palace Guard like that - but Celestia simply couldn't bring herself to care about the soldier in that precise moment.

The unicorn at the soldier's side took all her attention. A blue unicorn with azure mane, wearing the most stereotypical pointy wizard hat that ever could have existed.

"Greetings, master!" the little unicorn burst into a loud cheer. "Your most devoted student, the best magician in all Equestria, Trixie Lulamoon has returned!"
> 36 - Conspired
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"The team couldn't find any clues to just who broke into the Garden, your Highness." The Guard trooper shook his head - then glared upwards as the plume kept his helmet rocking slightly even after he stopped moving.

Luna sighed at the sight.

"We would advise you to tighten your headgear properly, lieutenant," she muttered, internally debating whether these ponies could be trusted with sharp tools. Or tools in general. "What of the lockdown?"

"Still in effect!" the lieutenant hastily replied. He sounded a bit aloof - probably because he was trying to nudge his helmet back to the proper angle. "But we haven't caught anypony trying to leave so far. And the search team is almost done with the interior..."

Luna gave a slight nod; this much was to be expected. Anypony skilled enough to release Discord - or make Celestia's former student release him - would be also able to teleport in and out. An annoying method of transportation, that magic was! It had very few countermeasures and left no trail behind. As a princess who valued actual security, teleporting ponies were always a thorn in Luna's backside.

There weren't all that many, the twelve Gods be thanked.

Things being such as they were, she had no choice but to cede that there was nothing more to be done. Frowning with some bitterness in her mouth, she turned her gaze to her right, at the scattered group of artists.

"Make sure this crime-scene gets painted properly, lieutenant." she stressed the word as she motioned at the ponies. "Every little detail must be present. Double- nay, triplecheck that not a single leaf of grass is missing."

"As you wish, your Highness," the pony next to her bowed.

"After that is done, the Garden may be opened up to the public." Luna dictated. She said 'public', but she was well aware just how few ponies would be allowed inside in reality. Only the highest of nobility were allowed into the inner Garden. She wouldn't trust any of those high-lives more than the last beggar on the street, though.

She turned to the stallion next to her, her icy teal gaze directly meeting the other pony's.

"Be sure that your soldiers are properly briefed before that happens."

"Yes, your highness. I doubt anypony would miss it, but should they ask... then the draconequus statue has been transferred away, for renovations," the lieutenant recounted.

"Good," Luna rewarded the cover-story with a nod. "You shall be debriefed tomorrow morning. We are looking forward to your report, lieutenant."

She didn't linger for the answer. She spread her wings and took off, darting back to the palace. She faced the usual problem: there was so much to do, yet so little time to actually get things done.

It would be favourable if we had more than one of us, Luna mused as the air tore into her mane. Though then again, we have already given that a shot... and it was such a terrible 'success' that we wound up sealing those copies back into the Mirror Lake.

Having to make do with only her singular self, Luna picked her second best choice to conserve time.

She beat her wings faster.





The guard gave a very un-stallion-like scream and ducked behind a potted plant. It would have been a mildly amusing scene, had his thrown spear not missed Luna by mere inches.

Even though she could recover from any physical injury, the Night Princess didn't particularly enjoy getting her eyes gouged out. The last time it had happened, she had to endure Celestia's pirate impressions for almost two weeks.

Unlike their physical brethren, mental injuries such as those would never really heal.

"Ahem," Luna cleared her throat and hopped onto the marble floor. She arrived in a somewhat unconventional way; she noticed that a window was left open, so she chose to be hasty and skip the lower level of the Palace. She wasn't expecting her arrival to cause such panic.

"AHEM!" she repeated the throat-clearing with some added volume, her eyes rolling. Her efforts were to no avail; the Guard was still covering behind the potted plant, as evidenced by the pair of quivering brown ears.

Why does Sister insist on keeping a military? Luna sighed and gave up on the trooper. Seriously, we could have bought half the world with all the bits we have thrown out the window on them.

Speaking of whom, Luna realised she had better check on the white alicorn. Celestia had a somewhat unhealthy obsession with those students of hers, and it was hard to predict how she would react to losing yet another one. Or even having said student turn on her... by freeing Discord, no less.

We should talk to Sister right away... this could turn ugly pretty fast. 

The distant memories of the Sunset Shimmer debacle running through her mind, Luna absent-mindedly knocked the spear out of her way and began her march towards Celestia's quarters.





The moon-patterned, violet horseshoe hovered a few inches from the surface of the door.

The position was admittedly a bit uncomfortable, but Luna had some last-second doubts whether she wanted to knock. She'd had a long night and an even longer morning. After so many years of getting her ten hours of sleep every day, she could feel the effects of tiredness kicking in.

Could we really assist Sister with ourselves being such as we are...?

Her lips pursed, Luna silently berated herself for that momentary doubt. Of course she was! She was above such mortal concerns, after all. She used to go for months without sleeping, in fact! A long time ago, when she was roaming the world, far away from Equestria...

The memories were so distant that they almost seemed to belong to different pony, though.

We have really changed a lot since we settled in this place, Luna admitted with a weary sigh.

Living comfortably was one of the worst things that had happened to her in the last few thousand years. She had fought and conquered a wide range of hardships. But comfort... she had rarely met such an insidious curse. It poisoned the mind in ways one could hardly fathom.

Grunting in displeasure, she pushed her hoof against the door. A loud bam filled the air around her; then again and again, repeating twice more. Luna counted to five and pushed the door open. Whatever Celestia was doing inside, she had been given enough time to stop.

The large door creaked as it sailed out of the way - but despite the free way inside, Luna didn't move forward. She remained standing at the edge of the room, staring and blinking.

She saw Celestia in the middle of the room, her large white wings wrapped around what seemed like a small unicorn with a pointy wizard hat. And she was crying. Snivelling, even. 

It was a sight completely lacking modesty... a sight utterly unbecoming of a powerful alicorn.

The scene had left Luna perplexed. Not the crying part, no; Celestia had always been somewhat soft-hearted. She wouldn't break into tears all the time of course, but she wasn't the type to stoically bear the loss of anypony she personally knew.

No, what surprised Luna was that Celestia had company for this session of self-pity. That was something new. Being the de-facto ruler of Equestria, Celestia had an image to uphold. She knew better than to let outsiders witness such outbursts of extreme emotion.

Luna felt certain that she had to know why that random unicorn had been granted the privilege of witnessing the hidden side of the Sun Princess.

She cleared her throat - so loudly that it actually hurt - and then slammed the door behind her. The impact was powerful; it kicked the dust from the floor, the shiny marble tiles shuddering under the alicorn's hooves.

The loud noise made Celestia jump. Her age showed; thousands' of years of experience compressed into that single move. She leaped between the wizard-hatted unicorn and Luna, her wings flared and her head held down. Few ponies could transform that abruptly from sobbing to a state of combat readiness.

It has been a long while since we have last seen Sister that scary, Luna realized. She was squinting, her head cocked to the side; she wasn't alarmed the slightest. She simply found that reaction to be highly intriguing. For Celestia to be this protective...

Just who is that unicorn?!

"Sister." Luna gave a curt bow. There was no need for such gestures when she was with her sister; that bow was meant to show that as far as Luna cared, outsiders were present. "Do pardon our intrusion. We just came to... give you an update on the investigation."

Such a transparent lie that was. But with an unknown party listening in, Luna saw it better to choose her words wisely.

"So formal," Celestia shook her head. Her posture loosened up; the fire died out from her glare, the steely limbs almost wobbling as she turned back to that unicorn.  "There is no need for this, Luna. This pony, she is a friend... no, more than that..."

Silently reminding herself not to frown, Luna simply narrowed her eyes. She was quite sure that she remembered her friends - all the two of them. And while she had a much higher number of acquaintances, she was plenty sure that the clown with the pointy wizard hat was not one of them.

What in the twelve Gods' name has gotten into you, Sister...

"You do realize this could bear some explanation, right?" Luna took a step forward. She caught a glimpse to the right; a hint of a colour that wasn't supposed to be present in the room. A patch of green in the sea of white.

Gasping and jumping away, Luna found herself facing a gryphon - one with unnatural, glittery green feathers. He seemed to stand out of the picture, as if he wasn't really part of the scene... but to make matters worse, Luna actually recognized that figure.

It was a servant who went under the name of Origin.

"Oya!" Origin broke into a loud, cheerful yell. Compared to the gloomy situation of everypony around, his upbeat mood was a striking contrast. "Another familiar face! It's been a while, miss envoy."

"We do have a name." Luna rolled her eye and relaxed. This gryphon wasn't sticking around to fight. "We have a proper rank, too... and that is Princess Luna, for future reference."

"Haha, pardon, pardon! In my defence, you were a mere envoy the first time we met." Origin giggled and clicked his claws. "I still remember when you visited us in Saddle-Arabia... and now that I think about it, you're still not showing any of your age-"

"Origin!" the wizard-hatted unicorn glared at the gryphon - and the servant fell silent mid-sentence, his front paws raised high in the air.

So she is a fellow master, Luna squinted at the unicorn. You little rascal... you had our curiosity since we saw you here. But now? Now you have our earnest interest.

All of a sudden, Luna found the presence of her sister to be a little... detrimental. She wanted to converse with the strange pony right away, and having an emotionally unstable Celestia around did not help to further that goal.

Venting her frustration in the form of a slight frown, Luna inched closer to the duo. Celestia and the strange pony were back in the middle of the room, the white alicorn sobbing and stroking the other pony with utmost care.

Were she not privy to all the details of her sister's personal life, that image could have made Luna worried.

"We are still waiting for some explanation," she groaned, sitting down right behind Celestia. "A rather thorough one, too."

Her sister, however, didn't humour that wish. Snorting and gulping loudly as she spoke, Celestia only gave a somewhat cryptic answer.

"My student... she came back! Even after everything I put her through, she still came back..."

Luna reared her head back and blinked. Rapidly.

So that is her student, she peeked over Celestia's shoulder, trying to force herself into accepting the fact. How quaint. We were expecting... uh...

Truth be told, she wasn't sure what she had been expecting. But a unicorn with a with a pointy wizard-hat and a starry cape... that was such an overload on clichés that it became borderline parody. Nopony serious about their profession would have dressed that way.

Luna wrinkled her eyebrows in disapproval. That pony clearly did not belong in the picture. But even so, that pony also had a servant of her own! That made her important. Important enough to make Luna keep her around.

Besides, she still had a crying Celestia to fix.

"And yet here you are, crying... even though your missing student has returned. What is wrong with you, dearest Sister?" Luna reached out, putting her hoof on white alicorn's back. She did her best to sound - and be, in general - reassuring. "Is this not a jubilant occasion? Why are we crying, instead of celebrating over a cup of fine wine?"

"Trixie has tried to point that out already!" the unicorn in Celestia's hug joined in the protest. "There is no getting through to her right now, it seem- ghuah, tight! Trixie can't breathe-!"

Luna could easily see that the pony's protests were legitimate. Celestia was hugging that unicorn tight - so tight that Luna could have sworn she heard bones cracking. It was like watching a bear give a pony a cuddle hug - the kind which the odd survivor would always brush off as 'not exactly a pleasant experience, would not recommend'.

"Sister... student or not, please remember that we have an image to maintain." Luna sighed sombrely, lightly patting Celestia on the back of her neck. "While keeping feelings bottled up is no good, there are also sound reasons for keeping wild rivers dammed up."

Look in a mirror already! Do you not realize how unsightly you are being?! ...that was the expression she had tried to tiptoe around.

"Suh... sorry," Celestia mumbled and let go of the other pony, using a leg to smear the tears around her face. "I just..."

Luna couldn't do anything but shake her head in disbelief. Had they been on their own, she would have given her sister a serious talking to... but with the extra audience, such heart-to-heart sessions were out of the question. That was a frustrating feeling; being an all-powerful princess and yet being so limited in options at the same time.

"Sister, we have already discussed this so many times..." she finally condensed her irritation into one loud sigh. "We are the ones upholding this world... and that is not an occupation for the faint of heart. It would be foolish to assume that ponies so close to us would be free from the hazards. Your student is back; you should be glad for that fact alone, no matter what has transpired."

Pull yourself together already, she thought and grit her teeth.

"Haha... are YOU comforting me? Me, the liege who built a country always in need of saving? Me, the careless master who had lost countless students along the years?" Celestia cackled with a low tone and turned around, showing the sour grimace on her face. "Me, the irresponsible sister... the one who had ignored you, then banished you for a thousand years?"

The last remark was a bullseye. Luna felt her resolve crack for a moment; she shuddered and froze up. She wanted to speak, but the words eluded her; for many long moments, that singular event occupied the entirety of her mind.

Is that... unfortunate idea of ours still on your mind? she frowned and took a ragged breath. Keh. That will not do...!

"You are not at fault, Sister. Not for a single one of those!" she exclaimed loudly, making full use of the Canterlot Voice once again. "And never speak of our mistakes like that again! The results of our actions are ours - and ours alone!"

Much to her surprise, Celestia didn't protest that outburst. The Sun Princess only gave a nod and a tired smile.

"Taking responsibility, huh?"

Squinting hard and turning her head slightly off-angle, Luna wasn't sure what to make of that reaction. She didn't ask anything though; she knew her sister well enough to know the explanation was going to come before long.

And indeed, Celestia grabbed a scroll from the nearby drawer and levitated it to Luna.

"So, Luna... who should take responsibility for this then?"

"Hmpfh," Luna snorted and yanked the scroll with her own magic. She unfurled the paper and began reading, hastily and greedily; she had no idea what to expect, but she wanted the whole farce to be over as quickly as possible. There were so many things for her to do and-

Her eyes went wide and she stumbled, almost dropping the scroll.

She was holding an order - one meant for Celestia's student.

An order to free Discord.





"And you freed him," Luna sighed and rubbed her forehead with a hoof. "Did it not strike you as an... odd request?"

What a day.

"Well... Trixie did what students do! Trixie followed the instructions," Trixie muttered. She was sitting in the middle of the room, hugging and fiddling with her pointy wizard hat. "Things quickly spiralled out of control, though."

Leaning back against the wall, Luna gave that assessment a sombre nod.

No kidding. You caused a nation-wide disaster... out of control, indeed.

"How are you still here, then?" She raised her eyebrow, giving the unicorn a questioning look. "We honestly doubt that Discord would allow you to return unharmed. He does not think that kindly of our dearest Sister, you see."

"Unharmed, you say?"

Luna turned her gaze right, to the baldachin bed. Celestia was there, laying upside-down in the thick white bed sheet, her leg resting on her head, just a little below her horn.

"This is probably horrible of me to say, but destroying my student would have only hurt once." Celestia chuckled darkly, then squeezed her head deeper in the bed. "Giving me a reminder every day, on the other hoof..."

Closing her eyes, Luna sighed loudly.

"True enough. Completely erasing her from everypony's mind and destroying all the records of her... quite the creative punishment." She scratched her temple and shook her head. "Hardly unexpected, either. He even used this punishment quite a few times in the past..."

An uneasy silence followed. Luna was mulling over the recent revelations; they meshed nicely with the other facts she had gathered of the incident. Celestia was also silent; the white alicorn seemed content to simply lie in her bed, occasionally gurgling a loud sob. And as for the other pony - Trixie was sitting in the middle of the room, upright and tense as if she had swallowed a girder.

Turning her attention to the unicorn, Luna gave Trixie a long, hard stare... and then yanked her gaze to Celestia.

We are quite certain now... time to act.

"You look terrible, Sister."

A sombre chuckle was the sole answer to that remark.

"Have you had breakfast yet?" Luna pushed herself from the wall with a muffled grunt. "Would you like some sweets? A coffee, perhaps?"

"No," Celestia muttered, the tip of her nose bobbing left and right. "Am' fine."

"No, you are obviously not!" Luna barked, her voice thundering as she pointed a hoof at the door. "And while we would gladly let you cope on your own, we must also remind you that you have a public appearance later today!"

Celestia groaned loudly and rolled around, pulling a pillow over her head.

"Fine. We are getting you some coffee, then." Luna growled, then darted her eyes to Trixie. "You! Student! Accompany us."

This made Celestia yank her head up, the move ejecting the pillow in a wide trajectory.

"Wait! I am not letting my stu-"

"We believe that we are well-equipped for this treacherous walk to the kitchen... we shall keep that pony safe." Luna interjected, using her thousands years of experience to keep her feelings off her face. "Surely you are not planning to keep this pony chained up in your room, right?"

Behind the cover of her ruffled mane, Celestia hummed and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. The hesitation to answer such an obvious question did make Luna somewhat worried.

"Trixie is fine!" the self-proclaimed student hastily spoke up. "Trixie is certain she can handle the dangers of a kitchen! No need to keep Trixie in this room for eternity... ahaha!"

Raising her eyebrow, Luna wondered if she just witnessed how 'being kept in the room' had become the new 'being sent to the moon'.

Sister sure attracts some bizarre beliefs.

Celestia glared at the small unicorn and then at her sister, then moved her gaze back to the small unicorn... and then glanced to the top of her baldachin. 

"Fine. Fine! Lust!" she puffed and barked, her words at odds with her tone; she was obviously displeased with the outcome. "Lust, get down here already! We are also accompanying these two."

"No you will not!" Luna pointed a hoof at the white alicorn, rejecting the idea in a hurry. "You look as if something horrific has happened to our kingdom... we would not want our subjects to start panicking, correct?"

"But... Discord kinda escaped," Trixie rose her hoof in the air. "Isn't that something horrific for Equestria?"

"And just how many know that our evil genie is out of the bottle?" Luna threw a smirk at the unicorn.

Trixie became dumbfounded for a moment, staring with her mouth hanging open; then she came to and clasped her hooves, even giggling a little. "Genius!"

"Only if we manage to continue to keep it a secret." Luna rolled her eyes, then moved her gaze back to Celestia. "As long as you are in this state, you should remain in the room, Sister. We are not deaf to your plea, however... so we have no objections if you were to send an observer."

"An... observer?" Celestia blinked and scratched the top of her head. Then enlightenment arrived, her eyes glistering as the idea dawned on her. "Oh! Oh, I get it! That... that is a good idea, actually. Lust! Could you accompany my sister and my student, please?"

"But of course," the white lion replied, his long white mane flowing as he leapt to the floor. "I will gladly do anything you ask of me, honey."

Sighing in resignation, Luna turned around and pulled the door open.





"Whoaaa... this is one big castle," Trixie exhaled. She was walking at Luna's side, occasionally bumping into the alicorn; her gaze and most of her attention was focused on the richly decorated ceiling. "Trixie can't even fathom how-"

"Do not gawk," Luna barked. "Close your mouth, too. It is quite unsightly to walk like that."

Trixie acted as if she was doused with boiling water. She dropped her ears and hung her head low, scampering two steps behind Luna - a fact which didn't escape the alicorn's attention.

"Are we going too fast? Can you not keep up with the pace?" Luna snickered. She was free to make faces, and she had herself to thank for that: she had ordered most of the Palace Guard into the Garden last night. That left the Palace eerily quiet in parts - many of the hallways were completely deserted. A great number of commoners were still milling about of course, doing their duties - advisors, repairponies, the usual riff-raff. But with the sheer size of the Palace, Luna had no difficulties picking a route where she was guaranteed not to bump into any of them.

She needed the privacy, too.

"Uh- n, no. You're walking fine." Trixie muttered and hastened her steps a little. "Trixie was just-"

"You also need to learn speaking properly." Luna kept on with the lecture. She had much to say, and no matter what elaborate route she took, the kitchen wasn't that far. "Abbreviations may pass on the street, but you are not on the streets anymore."

That was the last straw, apparently.

"Trixie did NOT come from the streets!" the unicorn barked and ground to a halt, stomping her hoof against the marble floor. "And Trixie speaks properly already! Trixie is the greatest magician, so-!"

Both Origin and Lust stopped. The servants traded a quizzed glance and sat down, staring at the two ponies, obviously waiting for the spectacle to begin in earnest.

Sighing wearily, Luna turned around. She had been expecting that pony to lash out - though she expected it to happen a little later. Patience and a thicker skin; two more things in the long list this 'student' had to learn.

"We do not care who you are... or rather, were. You are the student of our Sister now," Luna explained in a low, emotionless tone. "This is a prestigious position - one which demands that you meet certain requirements. We regret if this is sudden, but do excuse us! Normally we are given more time to coach newcomers in the ways of Canterlot."

"Coach...!" Trixie slapped herself on the forehead. "So this is why you wanted to bring the coffee yourself... Trixie was wondering why didn't simply ask a servant! You wanted to lure Trixie away!"

Sharp, if a little bit slow. Luna hummed to herself. Ehh, we have seen worse material. This pony just needs a little polish. A few years of experience and training will do wonders.

Twisting her lips into a dark grin, Luna decided that the earnest training began now - and the first lesson was the pecking order.

"Of course we lured you away. Thanks to Discord's mistimed revenge, Sister is vulnerable right now... she needs us to take care of her. To protect her." Luna exclaimed and began pacing slowly, drawing a small circle around the so-called 'student'. "This place - Equestria - is only safe as long as we are protecting it, you see? There are so many dangers out there. Mad gods, insane tyrants, petty magicians, shapeshifting pony-eating bugs..."

Leaning down, Luna placed her mouth right next to Trixie's ear.

"Even ponies who would have the gall to take advantage of Sister's misfortune."

A loud yell rang in Luna's ears, but she bore the pain with the usual stoicism. She sighed and scratched the base of her ear, then watched in silence as the shaking Trixie began backing away from her. She studied the unicorn's terrified expression... and sighed, rubbing a hoof against her forehead.

She decided it would be easiest to spell this lesson out loud.

"Dear student, cracking under pressure will not do. For all you may know, we could have been merely testing you; and then you would have betrayed yourself splendidly." Luna shook her head, her tone rife with disappointment. "We appreciate your bravery in duping our sister... but we would advise against pulling acts if you are not prepared to remain in character until the very last moment."

"WHAT?! Is she a faker? Really?!" Lust leaped next to Trixie and began inspecting the hapless unicorn up close - that was, until Origin rushed to his master's aid, giving the white lion a very intimidating stare.

"Trixie slipped up, didn't she?" Trixie giggled and glanced away. The shock had disappeared from her face, giving way to misery. "Aah... this one act could have changed Trixie's life..."

"You actually did quite well... but your attire had rendered your efforts futile." Luna pointed at the starry cape on the unicorn's back. "Sister is quite lenient, but we would have never allowed something this tasteless in our vicinity. Any student accompanying our sister would know that."

Smirking in pain and sobbing loudly, Trixie reached to her back and yanked the cape off. She didn't say a word, but her glare betrayed everything on her mind; the sour realization that such a simple mistake was enough to reveal her.

Luna allowed the little pony to wallow in that pain for a while. She had no idea who Trixie was, to be honest; but it only seemed fair, facing some repercussion for attempting to fool the two Princesses.

We are still a lot more generous than we would be in our court, too.

"So, what will it be?" Trixie sniffled and wiped her face in the cloak. She didn't say it, but it was obvious that she was fearing the punishment.

"Well, let us see..." Luna turned her head sideways, prodding her chin with a hoof. She may have been heading the court, but the lesser used charges still took her a while to recall. "It depends on the charges. But deception of a state figure and impersonation of a pony in high ranking... well, you may be in for life."

That wasn't an outright lie, but veered quite close to being one. The theoretical maximum for those offences was quite high indeed - but unless Trixie was a re-offender, she was unlikely get more than a few years at most. And since her sob-story involved Discord, it was always easy to claim that the official documents had been tampered with.

That was what Luna would have done - and it was what she was going to do, after this talk was over.

There was no way Celestia's student could have recorded offences.

"For life," Trixie echoed and pulled the cloak all over her face. "For life...!"

"That is, if there is anything to charge you with." Luna carried on musing out loud. "Since, if you are really Sister's student... then you were simply telling the truth, were you not?"

Trixie jumped at the offer - literally so. She bounced a few steps forward, casting her cloak away like a tattered rag of no value.

"Is... is that an offer?" she asked, her excited grimace mixing with her red eyes and flowing tears. "You would cast a blind eye on this? Allow Trixie to live her dream?!"

Her nose still resting on her hoof, Luna gave a sombre chuckle and swayed her head from right to left and back.

"Please do not put words in our mouth. We never cast a blind eye to crime - that is a slippery slope we would rather not endure." She stared the unicorn right in the eyes. "We simply explained that there is no punishment if there was no crime."

"But... Trixie has already met Celestia," Trixie looked away, rubbing the back of her neck. "How could Trixie go back on all that?"

You fail to think outside the box, Luna noted and narrowed her eyes. We sincerely hope this is just a lack of experience, and not something more fundamental.

"You misunderstood us... student. What is done is done; you can not go back anymore. You should not attempt to either - Sister needs the moral supports that are her students," Luna took her nose off her hoof and rolled her head. "All you can do now is to become the student you claimed to be. Do just that, and there will be nothing to be afraid of. You will have achieved your goal."

Trixie nodded, slowly and somewhat aloofly. She seemed to have issues grasping the offer.

"But... how could Trixie become a student? She already claimed to be one! Or... is there some sort of initiation?"

Luna glanced at Lust. The white lion understood the message and backed off, slowly pacing behind the back of the alicorn.

"There is. You need to become the mask which you so casually took up," Luna explained and stretched her neck again. "We can do that for you, right here and right now. All you need to do is order your servant to not interfere."

Trixie and Origin glanced at each other. The gryphon shook his head, obviously unconvinced; but Trixie was visibly faltering, likely debating the choices inside her head.

"Will then Trixie really become the student of Celestia?" the little unicorn turned back to Luna, her purple eyes betraying a mixture of fear, anxiety... and excitement. "Will then Trixie be the most powerful mage in Equestria?"

"The most powerful...? Ha... ahahaha! Is that it?" A chuckle burst out of Luna. She regretted it a mere moment later, and felt ashamed about the mistake - but knew better than to give any sign of that. She simply cleared her throat and carried on. "Why, of course! Celestia's favoured may pick whichever title they fancy."

"Then stop mincing words," Trixie huffed and nodded so heartedly that her mane flapped into her face. "Origin! Whatever Luna's doing... allow her to do it, okay?"

"Meh. This is another incredibly stupid call... but as you wish, master!" the green gryphon sneered in the direction of the other servant. He then paced to the opposite side of the hall, propping himself against the white marble wall, his front legs folded on his chest.

"At ease, servant... we will not do anything drastic," Luna waved a hoof at the displeased gryphon. "Paradox, show yourself! There is work to be done."

Luna's servant made her entrance without any extra flashiness. No smoke, no lights, no sound - nothing at all. She simply appeared from behind Luna, as if she had been hiding there the whole time. There wasn't much remarkable about her either. She was a simple grey pony with glasses, completely featureless and rather unremarkable.

"Whoa," Trixie blinked at the newcomer. "You've got your own servant..."

Luna didn't even bother to acknowledge that asinine remark.

"Paradox, this pony needs to become our dearest Sister's student," she explained to the grey mare.

"Understood. The standard fare, then." Paradox adjusted her reading glasses, taking a better look at Trixie. "Let's see... a travelling magician with her own caravan. Hmm... that would be hard to alter. Not a popular show; but still one with too many witnesses. I could make her remember taking an academy exam during her less busy years, though."

Like an ant under a huge magnifying glass, Trixie stared at the grey servant with her mouth hanging open. She was obviously being analysed, but there was nothing she could do about the fact. All she could do was trust the alicorn holding the glass to not burn her for fun.

"That and everything else necessary. You know the drill," Luna nodded and closed her eyes. There was a rush of dull pain throughout her head - and then the whole thing was over, as soon as it came. When she cracked her eyes open, Paradox was nowhere to be found.

Luna gave that adherence to protocol an honest smile. 

She had trained Paradox for a long time. One of the first lessons was concealment; that having a servant hang around all the time was a sure-fire way to tipping the other masters off.

Luna wanted her servant to stay out of sight. It was probably paranoid of her, but given the game she was in, she felt her paranoia thoroughly justified.

"Oohh... ohhh..."

Turning her head a little, Luna took another good look at Trixie. The unicorn clearly wasn't feeling well; she looked light on her hooves, stumbling around in a dazed fashion.

Figures, Luna put a hoof to the dully aching portion of her skull. To us, altering memories is nothing... to her, it may have messed with half her life.

And this was far from being the end.

"Lust!" Luna barked, making the white lion's head snap to her. "Your turn."

"Wai- what?" Trixie yanked her head up. She didn't look well - she was squinting with one eye, keeping the other one closed. "There's more?!"

"But of course!" Lust walked forward, positioning himself between the unicorn and the alicorn. "You see, now you have been a faithful student of my hon'... but I would prefer you to not break her heart later on either."

"How?" Trixie whined. She collapsed to the floor, using her hooves to squeeze both sides of her head together.

"By making you devoted," Lust cackled loudly. His sapphire eyes flashed in a bright blue colour - before the unicorn had a chance to protest. "My hon' is the meaning of your life from now on. If she asks something, you provide. If she wishes something, you do not ask why. Her word is is your will! For from now on, THAT is your devotion!"

"YOU BASTARD!"

A sword zipped through the air. It hit Lust right between his eyes - but the metal blade couldn't harm the ghostly lion. The blade flew on without any effect, clanging loudly and screeching as it came to a spinning halt on the marble floor. Luna followed the shiny piece of metal for a while, then turned her eyes to where it appeared from.

"You lowlife thug! Thrice-damned mongrel!" Origin sneered, his left paw still steaming. "That's not devotion! That's plain slavery! How dare you-!"

"It's... it's okay, Origin."

The trembling voice made the green gryphon stop dead in his tracks. He clenched his paws in useless fury and turned to Trixie, his face deformed by anger.

"Master, don't be stupid! Don't stop me. Just this once! Please!" he sneered, his voice somewhere heartfelt pleading and bloodthirsty demanding. "You're not yourself!"

"But I am. I am Trixie Lulamoon... and you are my servant," Trixie rose her head and gave the gryphon a weak smile. "So please... stop. There is no reason for us to fight. Everything's alright."

Still clenching his paws, Origin stared lengthily at Trixie... then turned his burning glare to Luna. He glared without saying a word, then disappeared with a poof, leaving but a few loose feathers behind.

Luna couldn't fault him for wanting a break.

Levelling her eyebrows, she gave her head a gentle shake. This is why she despised this game so much. It sapped life of out everything sacred. Now ponies' lives were so simple to manipulate, it was way too easy to see everything as an object. Without the proper restraint, servants like Lust or Paradox were so dangerous that even she couldn't fully comprehend the risks involved.

And she was a thousands' year old immortal. It was frightening to think what disasters a mortal could wreak - perhaps unwittingly.

"Are you all right... student?" she finally spoke up, absent-mindedly gazing at Trixie.

The blue unicorn was recovering splendidly. She stopped shaking, and was only smacking herself over the head repeatedly - the phantom pain only seeming to slightly annoy her at this point.

"Mh-hmm! Trixie is feeling splendid!" the unicorn gave Luna a wide-mouthed smile. "Let's go and get that coffee! We're taking so long... Celestia must be worried sick by now!"

"Very well." Luna grinned and gave a token bow. "Lead the way, then."

Finding out whether Trixie 'remembered' the layout of the Palace was a splendid way to check how successful Paradox was at altering her memories, after all.





"Knock-knock!" Trixie chirped and she sneaked through the barely opened door. That wasn't an easy task; she had difficulties opening the door and keeping the floating tray in the air, so full of coffee and cake as it was. She could only solve the puzzle by using her leg to crack the door open - and then squeezing herself and the tray through. "Coffee has arrived!"

She found the white alicorn near the window, hunched over the desk. Celestia seemed rather busy indeed, as she paid no attention to the arriving pony.

It didn't take long for Trixie to realise that if the Princess was so busy, then she probably shouldn't have interfered either. Using her magic to balance the tray and keep the coffee from spilling, Trixie made her way to the desk in complete silence. Then, still trying to remain as subtle as possible, she shuffled a few of the opened scrolls aside, and placed the tray on the desk.

The cup made a faint clang, but that was the loudest noise.

Trixie, content in her belief that she was as invisible as a ghost, gave herself an appreciative nod-

"Where is Luna?"

Not expecting Celestia to have noticed her, Trixie almost broke into a surprised yelp - only by biting onto her lip did she manage to preserve some of her dignity. The ad-hoc solution hurt, but a little pain was preferable to yelling inside the castle. Basic rules of etiquette, really.

Celestia, having noted the humbled silence of her student, took her time to grab the cup of steaming coffee.

"Ah - it's the way you like it! Three cubes of sugar and a little cinnamon," Trixie hastily explained. "As for Princess Luna, she, uh... she was approached by a trooper in the kitchen. Apparently there is some matter she needs to attend to."

Celestia stared at her wobbling reflection in the brown coffee, then took a sip.

"Hmm, I see..." she mumbled, rotating the cup absent-mindedly, studying the rich decoration. "Why did you come back? After Discord and everything... you could have run away, you know? I mean... I would expect any sane pony to run away after such a debacle. Nopony would have taken offence at you wanting out."

"Is... is that a trick question?" Trixie scratched her head. "Trixie came back because this is where Trixie belongs... as simple as that."

Celestia raised her eyebrow at the remark.

"This...?" 

"By your side, of course." Trixie clarified, bowing so deep her mane swept the floor. "Even if it is sometimes dangerous, Trixie wouldn't have it any other way."

A golden coloured aura of magic yanked back to her hooves.

"Stop bowing. You know I find that offensive." Celestia frowned then turned around, her cup drawing a faint arc of steam in the air. "Out of curiosity... did anything interesting happen on the way to the kitchen?"

Following the Princess' gaze, Trixie noticed that the alicorn was talking to the two servants who had entered the room.

"Nothing that would bother you, honey." Lust purred. He was resting on top of the baldachin already, stretching and groaning like a well-fed kitten.

Origin was slower to respond. He took his time to hear the white lion out, then stared Trixie in the eye... but finally spoke up.

"Just a small chat with Princess Luna," he shrugged, fiddling with a claw of his. "But matters were settled the way my master wished. In fact... she may have gotten more than she bargained for."

That's not what we agreed on saying! Trixie hissed at the idiot gryphon of hers.

"I see." Celestia hummed and gulped some more coffee. She kept staring into the cup for a while... and then turned her eyes back on her student. "Would you like to take a break? You earned it, being almost killed by Discord... and by me, by proxy."

"There is no need! Trixie feels just fine." Trixie giggled. She felt kind of awkward, hearing that compliment; she had to scratch the back of her neck just to deal with her high-strung nerves. "This may sound a little weird but... Trixie would like to help cleaning up this room. If... if you don't mind."

"This is probably selfish of me... but I would be thankful for the company, I guess." Celestia smiled wryly, taking a long sip of her coffee.





Origin watched the heartfelt 'reunion', his heart overflowing with a singular emotion.

Disgust.

He used to be a proud gryphon. That was long ago - so long ago that even he forgot the exact count of years. He didn't remember much of that life, apart from one detail... something that shone in the dark void like the brightest star.

He used to be proud.

That was all he needed to remember, too. He had given up that previous life, in exchange to become a servant; he had given his all to become the mightiest fighter in the world.

He never longed for anything else. Freedom, wealth, happiness... those had never meant anything to him. He couldn't remember when it was exactly, but he realised that fact even before he had become a servant. Whether he fought for an ideal, whether he fought for hire, whether he fought for the sake of protecting someone else... it never seemed to matter.

It didn't matter why he was spilling blood.

It only mattered that he won.

He had never lost a master in his existence as Origin. His masters kept dying all the time, of course; to old age, to diseases, to their own stupidity. That, however, had never bothered him. If his masters died, then they weren't deserving of commanding him in the first place. But now, watching Trixie mingle with that white alicorn...

Origin clenched his claws in useless rage.

For the first time, he had failed his master.

He lost.

He could have made a pincushion out of Luna. Even though he couldn't possibly kill that alicorn, he could have at least tried.

He didn't. He simply stood there and watched.

He lost - and he hadn't even tried.

That was a shame he couldn't cope with. There was no cure for that wound, and the gash on his heart grew wider with each moment his master spent with the white alicorn. The moments of carefree chat between the two had pained him in ways he never felt before.

He didn't go away, though. He wanted to remain close to his master; it was the least he could do. He also wanted that pain to burn into his mind, to haunt him forever. He wanted that use that pain to fuel his desperation. He wanted to gather all that pain and turn it into raw power.

A power that would break Princess Luna one day.

That moment wouldn't come anytime soon; he was well aware of that. No matter how badly he desired revenge, Trixie was beyond saving now. All he could expect of his master was to lick Luna's hooves now. 

But there was no hurry. Luna would live forever, and Trixie would be a passing memory in some sixty years... and who knows? Perhaps another master would come along before that. Perhaps that Lyra Heartstrings fellow, the one who had come up this entire plan in the first place.

Yeah, she seemed more daring.

The scene in the empty restaurant had left an impression on Origin. The way that pony had calmly proposed a plan to slight the Princesses and set Discord loose... he liked that sort of reckless bravery.

And there was a good chance that Lyra would arrive to Canterlot before long, too.

She was planning to do something to the Princesses, after all. So she's going to fight against Luna, right?

Breathing in with his entire body trembling, Origin couldn't wait for that moment to come. He may have to betray Trixie, but as far as he cared, that pony was dead already.

And he wouldn't rest until he had his vengeance. If it was Lyra Heartstrings who enabled him to achieve that… then so be it.
> 37 - Sought
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

What a long day... thank the Gods there was that trooper! A most convenient excuse for us to disappear.

With such thoughts on her mind, Luna crashed in her bed with the elegance of a falling tree. The impact sent all the four corners of the bed-sheet flying, catapulting every other object into the air - pillows, fancy moon-laced horseshoes flew in every direction. Even her crown was sent flying; then all the objects clattered loudly once they touched down on the floor.

Luna didn't care about those belongings; she so absolutely didn't care. A lengthy sleep was the mighty Princess of the Night's sole desire.

This is ridiculous! When did we grow so reliant on carnal pleasures? she seethed as she rolled around, grabbing her pillow with her magic, dragging it back to the bed. Wasting eight hours for this every day... ugh, the mind boggles.

Squeezing her head with the pillow, Luna closed her burning eyes and breathed in deeply.

Objectively thinking, she had been quite successful. The issue with Discord had been kept under the lid for now. One of the Palace Guard would surely spill the beans before too long, but that still left her with a week or two before all hell broke loose. Celestia's problems had been settled as well - though the solution greatly reminded Luna of how panicking parents handled the loss of their foal's pet, returning from the pet shop mere moments before said foal arrived back home.

Look! That duckling isn't dead. It was just... uh, sleeping, yes! Also, he kinda' answers to a different name now. Didn't you know? Ducks are funny like that.

Pulling the pillow tighter, Luna grumbled at her over-active imagination. All she had done was find a practical solution, nothing more. Celestia needed a student and Trixie longed for that very position... a match truly made in heaven.

"GAH!" Luna yelled, slamming the pillow against the wall. "So why do we feel so upset about that farce?!"

"Because you were forced to make use of us."

The skin on her forehead wrinkling, Luna turned her eyes at the direction of the voice. A grey mare was standing there, staring at her with a nonchalant expression.

"Objectively thinking, you have won on both tactical and strategic levels. Your sister will be content for a good forty years or so... while your own plan advances in the background." Paradox said in her usual flat tone. "But all these victories came at the cost of relying on our help once again. And, as far as your objectives go, that is a loss. You broke the rules... or rather, you were forced to. Again."

Paradox paused for a moment whilst she adjusted her glasses.

"Frankly speaking, I would be surprised if you were not upset."

Her head bouncing a little as she dropped it back on the bed, Luna stared at the ceiling without actually looking at anything.

"Right... your power. Anything we should be aware of...?" she asked somewhat absent-mindedly, her mind already back to preparing for sleep.

"Trixie Lulamoon had been attending to the Canterlot Academy for a few years." Paradox settled next to Luna's bed, recounting the gist of the false memories that she had created. "She had been what you would call a freak genius. She was recruited for her talent, but didn't fit in and dropped out shortly after passing the early exams."

Yawning and rubbing her sore eyes, Luna nodded curtly. That sounded easy enough. Getting some official papers from the Academy posed no problems.

"Anything else?" she asked, her voice so raspy that she was almost rattling.

"Nothing that requires immediate action on your end. I made Trixie remember a few lessons in court etiquette - but please don't expect a complete change of character. I did try to keep the alternations subtle." Paradox disappeared from Luna's view, sliding so low where the edge of the bed obscured her. "Ah- yes, one more thing. Trixie will remember having met you during her years in the Academy. She promised to pass Origin to you, even if that is the last thing she does in her life."

Hiding her face beneath her legs, Luna pulled her mouth to a pained grin. That factual and calculated manipulation didn't sit right with her.

But, on the other hoof, it did gain her another servant - and without shedding blood or causing any pain either. She simply had to be patient and let time do its part. Ponies didn't live that long; few made it past one hundred. Especially if they were Celestia's students. Mortals getting roped in the same hazardous jobs as the princesses themselves faced - that was never going to work out well.

It was strange, finally benefiting from all those senseless losses. It made her feel uneasy - complicit, even.

We wonder who will calm our dreams, she exhaled and slipped into sleep.





Luna couldn't help but wonder how many times she had seen that very same place - and yet, it looked different every time she had entered a mind.

A field made of sugar, surrounded by trees made of candy. An endless night at the roulette table, with the ball always falling into the right spot. A date where everything goes without a hitch.

A reality where hopes became law, forcing the cold probabilities into submission.

Dreamland.

It was a little ironic that to the Princess of the Night, that field of limitless possibilities was nothing more than useful tool. She had no need, nor any desire to conjure far-fetched scenarios. She had lived long enough to see more outlandish things than anypony was capable of imagining; so why would she waste her precious thoughts on subpar forgeries?

Where most ponies wasted their minds to chase fleeting desires, she used it for much more beneficial purposes.

Floating in the middle of endless darkness, she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Dreams were easy to mold; all it took was focus. She visualised a desire and popped her eyes open-

She was standing in a library. It wasn't vast, nor fancy; an eight-by-eight metre room, only adorned by an old table and three shelves full of books. There was no door, nor any window; the light was solely provided by the torches hanging from the walls, all the shadows dancing to their yellowish flickering.

The room may have looked like a prison at first glance, but it was quite the opposite in fact. It was a perfectly distilled version of a contemplative princess' desires, stripped of everything superfluous.

Her hooves clanging loudly on the cobblestone floor, Luna walked to the nearest shelf and dragged a tome off. She didn't need to put any effort into picking one out; she always wound up with the right one anyway; dreams worked like that.

She placed the dull-red tone onto the table and cracked it open. She then took a quill with her magic, dipped it in the thick, black ink... and began scribbling.

There were so many things to note down, and the day only lasted so long.





"Origin; a servant currently in Trixie Lulamoon's service." Luna mumbled absentmindedly. The ink-stained quill was balancing rather precariously on her nose, only staying put because she dreamt it so. "So he was the servant able to create objects... our predictions were correct after all."

Reaching out with her magic, she yanked another book to the table. She tore it open without a shred of care; the pages had barely settled down when her eyes were already running back and forth the lines of immaculately written text. It took her a few seconds, but she did manage to locate the part she sought.

"With this, we know everything of every servant now. Haa, if only we were this knowledgeable the first time we met this green gryphon..."

That fact couldn't be helped, of course. The fated encounter which took place during her visit to Saddle Arabia... the one where she bumped into Prince Darius and his trusted gryphon servant. Were she just a little bit more certain on the game's finer points back then, she could have lured Origin to Equestria a lot sooner. But that scene had happened almost nine hundred years ago. She wasn't quite so ready to break the game as she was now. It took over six hundred years of research and planning to-

Slamming the book closed, Luna wrinkled her eyebrows at the realisation.

We actually met that gryphon nine hundred years ago!

That... could become a problem. She had to ask Trixie to make Origin keep silent about that encounter.

Were the gryphon to blabber too much, we would need to answer many uncomfortable questions.

It didn't seem like a difficult request, to be honest. She had much more valuable cards in her hooves; all she needed to do was offer a pact of mutual silence to Trixie.

Exhaling loudly with a wry smile to herself, Luna couldn't see Celestia's newest student declining the offer. After all, just how would Celestia react were she to realise that the fateful scroll was a fake? That the scroll sending her true student to a suicidal mission was but a perfect forgery, created on the order of the pony who longed to take that spot for herself?

Luna was certain that her sister's student wouldn't dare to try and find that one out. Trixie would do anything to keep her spot at Celestia's side, after all. Even disregarding the lengths that unicorn had gone to achieve the title, the brainwashing she had received had also made sure of that.

Using her magic to scribble a few lines into the open book, Luna felt quite satisfied with her progress. Such was the power of knowledge! Celestia may have been the mentor of this student, but in the end, it was Luna calling all the shots. All with just a little forethought.

Her chance to savour her newest success was cut short. A loud gong rang out; nightfall was approaching and the dream had to end. Luna didn't feel sad about having to wake up, though; as much as the dreams helped her to organize her thoughts, she really preferred taking actions in actual reality.

Her dream-library falling apart around her, Luna gave an earnest grin to the realisation - that in a few more decades, the 'game' plaguing Equestria was nothing more than a toothless beast. Even as she was yanked back to the physical reality, she couldn't help but savour that taste.

The taste of a millennia-old plan finally coming together.





"These baguettes are great! You should try some!" Trixie mumbled, spitting crumbs all over the table. The platter in front of her promptly took it to the air, shedding crumbles all over the floor.

Luna watched the scene in utter disapproval. It wasn't proper to rummage with the food on the table, especially when other ponies were also present. Not that she was intending to eat any of those chocolate-filled baguettes either way; she had only come to grab a light meal before her half-day of rule began.

No, she was angered by the simple lack of civility. It was a matter of principle.

...and besides, Celestia didn't like those chocolate baguettes anyway. Both immortal sisters had grown tired of such mundane foods many lifetimes ago-

"Why, thank you!" Celestia took three slices, giving Trixie a warm smile in the process. "Now that you mention, they do look lovely."

Wha- Luna blinked, utterly flabbergasted. Who are you and what have you done to our Sister?

She kept staring, even after the white alicorn had already began chewing on the baguettes. It was such a surreal sight! Celestia faced the same hardships she had - being so utterly fed up with the usual flavours that she had rather skipped meals than to endure them.

To see her sister actually enjoy ordinary bread, chocolate-filled or not...

Picking up the spoon she had dropped when her magic had lost focus, Luna stirred her tea absentmindedly.

"Mm-hmm! It's the best. Crunchy and full of chocolate!" Trixie chomped on a baguette, chewing with loud crunching noises.

Grinding her teeth, Luna couldn't keep herself any longer.

"Manners!" she thundered and slammed her hoof on the white table-cloth, almost turning her teacup over. "Have you not been taught manners?! For if that is the case, we will gladly take it upon ourselves to educate you!"

Trixie flinched back, so quickly that she almost fell backwards, a half baguette still sticking out of her mouth.

"Say that one more time!" hissed a voice from the right. Glancing there, Luna saw a green gryphon leaving the cover of a large ceremonial armour.

We were wondering where you went, she smirked at the figure. She had only noticed Lust when she had entered the room earlier; she hadn't taken Trixie to have the caution to make her servant stay hidden. Which means that the gryphon hid on his own volition.

...you do not like watching us eat together, do you.

"I hear you're the kind to carefully pick her words." Origin paced closer slowly, snarling all the way. "Don't hold back now! If you want a fight, I'm ready to give you one... you accursed demon of the north!"

By when she came to, Luna found her ears hugging her neck so tightly as if they were glued there. She was also staring wide-eyed... and stuttering as she repeatedly tried to squeeze out a faltering 'what'.

There was no reason to be insulted. The demon of the north - it was actually a flattering title, considering the origin. The Saddle-Arabians used to call her such, figuring that a pony who wouldn't age nor die could only be a supernatural force.

Hearing that old praise again had left Luna shocked, though. She wasn't expecting the gryphon to blurt out something that obvious so soon.

How could we explain that one? she gaped with her mouth hanging open. Saddle-Arabia barely existed a thousand years ago! The leaders of a fledgling country wouldn't have bothered giving the rulers of a nearby empire such double-edged titles. Squeezing her head with her hooves, Luna raced to come up with an explanation that would pass muster.

That darn gryphon just HAD to speak up with 'Tia nearby...!

"ORIHIHN!" Trixie screamed with her mouth full of food. She quickly realised the error, though. She first wanted to put the half-chewed baguette back onto her plate, but changed her mind after some hesitation... and then she began chewing very quickly instead.

There was no reason to hurry; Origin stopped moving as soon as the harsh words sounded, giving his own master a stern glare instead.

A couple of loud breaths, and Luna felt her nervousness ebbing. That was close - that was too close. She had to-

Something poked her in the back of her head, banging her forehead against the table. Hot liquid splashed into her face; her nose landed square in her own teacup.

"That was not very nice of you!" she heard Celestia growl. "Trixie is my student, and my students can eat in any way they like! If you can not deal with that... well, there are many dining halls in this palace! I am quite sure that we can dine separately for a while."

The hot tea burning the tip of her nose, Luna gave her empty teacup a weary glance. She had just woken up, and this day was already getting a little too much for her. She had been the victim of two unreasonable situations, all the span of twenty seconds; and both times because someone had acted in a way she hadn't considered.

Talking of which...

Squinting to her left, she paid the sour-faced white alicorn a puzzled glance.

You seem to be a bit... overprotective of this student, Sister.

For a pony who had sent her previous students on tasks such as 'stop the rampaging monster while I watch from afar', bashing skulls because of stern remarks felt out of character. Not that Luna wanted to complain; in her rush to defend Trixie, Celestia seemed to have forgotten about Origin's remark, all the twelve Gods be thanked.

"Right, right... we are sorry." Luna mumbled. She had to hold a brief pause; the teacup fell off her nose and rolled away as she spoke. "Would you mind letting us go now?"

The magical force holding her down disappeared right away, but Luna didn't get up. She hissed and rubbed the back of her neck. It was nothing but a light bruise, but hurt regardless - mostly on the virtue of being so unexpected.

"Ha! That's what you get for scolding the greatest magician in Equestr-" Trixie cackled, only to be swatted over the head. "-ow!"

"My students also need to know proper manners," Celestia huffed, then waved the rolled-up newspaper at Luna. "But it is up to me how to teach them, is that understood?"

Pushing herself up from the table, Luna stretched her neck and decided that she hadn't seen her sister act so strangely for a long, long while. However, a solution to that mystery was unlikely at the dinner table.

"Sure thing," she shrugged and righted her teacup instead of wasting more thoughts on the matter.





"It's what you could call... an unintended side-effect," Lust swiped his leg at the sky. He turned his paw around and glanced at it curiously, as if he had truly expected to a snatch a star or two.

"Side-effect of what?" Luna squinted, then closed her eyes when the wind swept her mane in her face. She was standing on the balcony of the highest tower. The view was nothing short of breathtaking, but as no other towers rose that high, there was nothing to block the wind either.

The answer took a while. The white lion reached out at the starry sky again, his blue eyes lost in the million sparkling lights above.

Oh for the Gods' sake...

"Was this your power's side-effect?" Luna broke the brief silence. "Lust, we understand your reluctance to answer. We asked you not to harm Sister... and yet you have done so anyway."

"Sure you did! Never stopped you from asking favours of me again and again either, though." The white lion snickered and clenched the claws on his paw. "Stop acting the fool, Luna. Both of us know there's a price for invoking emotions in ponies' heads... taking the shortcut to spending years' of effort."

Setting her head onto the buttress, Luna gave a grimace. How could she not? That phrase reminded her of what the game master had said. It wasn't much - only one singular sentence, but delivered in such a gleeful tone that it had always remained in her head.

Every cheat has its price.

She sighed wearily, then forced herself to ask the question.

"So did Sister take a liking to Trixie... because we have made Trixie like her?" 

"Every force creates counter-force... that much remains true, even if we bend the rules a little." Lust gazed at his empty paw, then dropped his leg next to him. "My honey didn't even know of what I had done, so she wouldn't even know of what had happened to her. That would make her more... susceptible than usual. The downside of acting independently, I suppose."

Her chin resting on the cold stone, Luna gave that word a wry smile. Susceptible; such a careful term for a lion who normally didn't care much for subtlety. She had no way of knowing, but she had a feeling that vulnerable was what Lust had been meaning to say. That word would have painted their actions in quite dark colours, though. They weren't meaning to harm anypony.

And yet...

Luna could feel the muscles in her face twist.

This god-forsaken game...!

"Be more careful next time," she hissed through her clenched teeth. "Make her crave bananas or something!"

"The heart goes where the heart wills... if I had perfect control over my backlash, I wouldn't be calling it a side-effect, right?" Lust growled and swiped the few loose strands of white mane off his face. The wind didn't mess his mane at all; the perk of a ghostly body. "Still, while this has never happened before... I suppose it was bound to happen sometime. I did tell you we have been pushing our luck, didn't I?"

A wave of freak wind rushed around the tower, battering at the window-shades, tearing at Luna's wings and mane. Loud whistling filled her ears, the noise of air rushing by; then, as suddenly as it went berserk, the air calmed down, and the night resumed to be peaceful.

"Besides, this one didn't even come from the blue. I can see the reasons for it." Lust rolled his head lazily, taking a pause until Luna looked back at him. "See, I think my honey wanted things to turn out this way."

Luna didn't even attempt to conceal her surprise at the claim.

"We doubt that. Sister has already suffered so much grief over mortals already," she shook her head, keeping one eye closed lest her mane tickled it. Immortal or not, those things still hurt. "Why would she want to grow so attached to another one now?"

The face of the white lion took a much more sombre shade.

"Atonement," he rattled. "This is her way of making up for sending that poor student to free Discord. Can't tell whether she wants to appease that pony or her own conscience, though."

"Atonement...!" whispered Luna, her gaze shooting past the white lion, lost into the far distance. "But..."

"But?"

Luna blinked and recomposed herself, turning her teal eyes to the white lion proper.

"That pony is nothing but a counterfeit! A swindler! She probably manufactured that scroll with Origin!" she hissed, her eyes burning with righteous anger. She was fine with a loafer tagging her sister along, but only so long as no harm came out of the deal. Having Celestia develop strong feelings on the matter was not within her calculations. "Actually, since she had that scroll done... it means she had prepared. She..."

Luna trailed off, thousands of invisible icy appendages binding her mouth shut; a very uncomfortable realisation was dawning on her.

That pony arranged to get the previous student out of her way!

And she, the Princess of the Night, had rewarded that scum with giving her exactly what she had desired. No, even more; with Celestia being as she was, it was nigh impossible to remove that counterfeiter.

Counterfeiter... no. Those do not hurt anypony. This one is an assassin.

Luna could feel her control over her emotions slipping. The veins bulged in her neck and on her face; she could hear her heart beat in her ears. To think she would so casually commit such a grave mistake! The first time she had met such a driven bastard in ages, and the first thing she did was elevating that psychopath straight to her inner circle!

Her mane dancing in the strengthening wind, Luna felt her rage disappear, the fires completely doused as she took a better look at the situation.

Willing to obliterate another for a mere title... we have not seen such a driven mortal for a long while indeed.

"Should have told my honey about this story earlier. It's a little late now... she wouldn't believe us. She's too riled up about having her 'student' back." Lust scratched his face with his sharp claws. "Though you do have the power to correct that, don't you?"

"Memories are not something to carelessly toy with," Luna wondered aloud - and quite absent-mindedly. She was thinking a few steps ahead of the subject. "Were we to make Sister remember a chat on this subject, we would leave her quite confused. Indeed - had she known of this, how could have she taken a liking to Trixie in the first place?" 

"Is that even a problem? Just make her remember having had arguments as well." Lust raised his eyebrow. "Make the two hate each other, too. See, it's that easy."

"That frightening easiness is precisely why we abhor making use of you lot!" Luna shuddered. She flared her wings, flapped them a few times - rearranging the feathers in the process - and folded them back to her side. "No... what is done is done. We accept our mistakes, not seek to undo them. Were we always resetting the world at the slightest misstep, not even a single day would ever pass."

Lust gave a sour grimace, then nodded heartily. 

"Your call... highness."

The sudden switch to formal didn't escape Luna's notice but she didn't really care what the servant thought of her.

"Indeed it is." She stared the lion in the eyes. "So tell us, Lust... how deeply is Trixie loyal to our sister?"

The query seemed to catch Lust off-guard. He blinked silently, his whole face twisting in surprise... then he began to giggle. Then to openly laugh, finally hollering so loudly that it hurt Luna's ears.

"BWAHAH! Is that even a question?!" he grinned, all his sharp teeth showing. "You should know better than to doubt me. She's as loyal as any can get. To a fault, you could say!"

A dark frown ran across Luna's face. While the answer was technically the best she could hope for, she didn't really like the cheerful glee with which Lust explained his brainwashing.

"Then there is no problem," she said and turned away from the lion, gazing at the many lights of Canterlot.

So Trixie was willing to get rid of ponies and scam the Princesses to get this title... and she is practically a zealot now, only caring for Sister's whims...

While frightening at first, that combination seemed more and more convenient the more Luna had thought about it.

"Huh? No problem?! Weren't you saying that she's a heartless bastard, less than a minute ago?" Lust complained from the background. "Why would you want somepony like that around? Somepony as dangerous as a... poisonous snake, let's say!?"

Staring at the distant lights as the gathering wind played with her mane, Luna rejected that concern with a dark grin.

"Because she is our snake now."





"No, it's only because you're the best mentor ever."

"No, it is only because you are so talented."

"Nuh-huh! Trixie bets you could make any pony this good."

"Only if they are as talented as you are!"

Lying on a couch not far away, Luna was cringing in silence, pondering on the ways she could prevent herself from hearing all that nonsense. Perhaps if she had grabbed a sword from the display and used it to stab herself in the head...

That wasn't one of her better ideas, of course.

Those blades were ceremonial, and would sooner bend than cause serious injury. And even if they worked, she would still heal in a few hours, and then be invited to listen to the heartwarming discussion once again. Probably in a room with no swords on the walls.

It was hard to believe that she had been putting up with that kind of ridiculousness for three days already. It helped that she considered it a sort of atonement; as she had been the instigator of all this insanity, the least she could do was suffer along with them.

Even if she was the only one visibly suffering.

"Trixie knows how to settle this one, then!" Trixie purred, fiddling in place as the white comb ran down her mane again and again. "We are simply the best. Both of us."

"Of course we are, silly." Celestia giggled, carefully pulling the comb towards the ground.

Keep talking like that and we are going to require a bucket. Luna rolled her eyes in the background. She had expected that using servants would land her in some uneasy situations, but that kind of concentrated, nauseating sappiness was way beyond her worst nightmare.

Still, her sister seemed to be enjoying herself. Which, while rather surprising, had left Luna with no choice - she bore the torture in utter resignation.

At least she wasn't suffering alone. Sneaking a glance at the guards at the door, she had to muffle a snicker. One colt was cringing so visibly that his spear shook; the other one bore the scene better, but only because he had fallen asleep long ago.

The brief smile vanished from Luna's face. It was a new low, but she envied that colt. If only she had such an easy way out! But falling asleep right before she had to raise the moon...

Yeah, Sister would never fall for that.

Though, with all the attention she had been receiving since the arrival of Trixie...

We could probably sleep all day and not be noticed by anypony, Luna rubbed her temple. Well, maybe the commoners. Some might complain about the night being missing...

She groaned and buried her head beneath her hooves.

Who are we kidding? Most ponies hate our beautiful night. All of our subjects would gladly welcome a never-ending day, the foolish lot of them.

Her horn flaring with blue aura, Luna dragged a pillow over to her and squeezed it over her head rather unceremoniously. The idea itself was sound, but a thin layer of feathers couldn't fully block the outside world.

"Trixie had no idea how she survived for all this time with you, princess!"

Clenching her teeth and smothering her head further into the couch, Luna wondered how long she would survive this new sort of lunacy. She readied herself to count the seconds, despite knowing that Celestia and her newest student wouldn't go to sleep for a while yet. Going by the new usual, she was stuck listening to them for at least an hour or so longer.

One incredibly long hour, Luna sighed internally.

But then fate lent her a hoof, and she was saved by the most unlikely happenstance.

Loud knocking rang out from the door, and a pony in a deep baritone spoke, his voice muffled by the door in the way.

"Sorry to disturb milady, but we have a situation on our hooves. If you would spare us a second..."

Not giving anypony else a chance to respond, Luna sprang up like a released coil, accidentally throwing the pillow all the way across the room.

"We are on this one!" she yelled, completely ignoring the bewildered blinks Celestia and Trixie were giving her. It didn't matter who was there or why. It could have been the acting captain of the Guard, looking for somepony to calm a raging volcano - but as long as it offered an early escape from the never-ending stream of compliments, Luna would gladly to volunteer to anything. She leaped off the bed and glided to the door, her magic tearing it open just as she touched down. Her momentum was so great that a few of her wing-feathers came loose and drifted past her, into the empty corridor in front.

What the... Luna blinked at the white tiles of the empty corridor. We could have sworn there was a pony talking just now.

"So who is it, Luna?" came Celestia's voice from behind. "What is this 'situation' about?"

"We have no idea, Sister." Luna peeked out the door, turning her head left and then to the right, scanning the deserted corridor. "Maybe it is about our guards disappearing... oh?"

She flinched and smacked herself in the face.

There were two scrolls rolling around on the floor - and two quivering ears sticking out from behind a potted plant on the right.





One of the scrolls hovering in front of her nose, Luna frowned and pursed her lips. It was an unpleasant surprise, Viscount Flash Freeze was requesting assistance; it seemed his prized heirloom had been taken by thieves. An amulet very close to his heart, the message read; but Luna knew what that really meant. She knew of the ice-demon that resided within that amulet. For the viscount to lose an artefact of such power...

She stopped reading the letter and lifted her eyes, her gaze resting on the empty corridor.

Hmm... so maybe it was not Discord who made Celestia's old student forgotten?

That did seem like a possibility. The windigo in the amulet had the power to erase memories, after all - and it always seemed strange that Discord would lower himself to going after singular ponies. Of course, ordinary servants couldn't make other servants forget about things... but Luna knew better than consider the rules of the game absolute. They could be subverted - just at a hefty price.

She sighed wearily and put the scroll away. Ordinary mortals couldn't help with this case, that was for certain. She would still need to assign a few investigators anyway; there were expectations she had to meet. Having a few Guards snoop around would also remind Flash Freeze about the consequences of being so incompetent. To lose that amulet...

With uneasy feelings weighing on her heart, Luna grabbed the other message. The wax seal broke with a faint click and the scroll unfurled, dangling freely in the air, its top held by her blue magic. Luna began reading, then quickly cocked her head to the side, dumbfounded.

A pony had maybe gone missing in Ponyville. The caretaker of the library was nowhere to be seen - but the sender of the message seemed unsure whether there was one in the first place.

Lowering the paper, Luna wondered whether fate was playing a trick on her. Ponies vanishing into thin air did happen time to time; curiosity and cats always had complicated relationships. But to have a librarian disappear so completely that nopony was sure if she had existed in the first place...

That felt suspicious.

Humming idly to herself and paying minimal attention to the still-hiding messenger, Luna picked both scrolls up and walked away, pondering if the odd cases had anything to do with Celestia's disappearing student.

Things rarely happened for no reason, after all.





The road twisted left and right, its end disappearing in the distance, both its sides adorned by doors as far as the eye could see. Luna was familiar with that junction; sorting through dreams and solving the problems therein was part of her job description.

She had seen a lot of... things that way. It certainly helped broadening her views on the desires of her subjects - but time to time, she couldn't help but miss the bliss of ignorance.

Pacing slowly down the dreamroad, Luna silently pondered which door to pick. It shouldn't have mattered; those doors didn't really lead anywhere. As long as she strongly believed that she was entering the right mind, any door would have worked. The whole scene was but an illusion - the way her mind coped with representing the dreams of all ponies. 

But since the mind works in peculiar ways, Luna could never believe in the doors until she had walked long enough.

Strange habits die hard.

Stopping in front of one of the many nondescript doors, Luna pushed on the knob with her magic. The door creaked but opened without fail. She walked in - and promptly found herself in a fancy spa. She failed to recognize the exact scenery; either because of her never having had seen the original, or because of this dream being inaccurate. It seemed like a quite authentic replica, though; fairly usual white buildings surrounded the Princess of the Night, her hooves clacking on cheap ceramic tiles as she walked.

Such down-to-Equestria dreams were a welcoming break from the constant barrage of candy-houses and whatnot.

The trek among the white-painted walls had lead Luna to a huge pool. And what a pool that one was! Almost a small lake, really... and welcomingly empty, too. Wrinkling her eyebrows at the clear water, Luna ran her gaze along the calm blue surface; then she took off, headed towards the singular pony in the middle.

Even though she understood that this was nothing but raw imagination, she didn't want to ruin anypony's dream by walking on water. She had long learnt to be careful when it came to mortals.

The tiny figure in the pool grew in size she approached, becoming more and more like a proper yellow pegasus. Instead of splashing down directly at the pony, Luna opted to announce her presence by circling around a few times - and then drop into the water right next to the colt.

The water was a pleasant surprise. It was cold and somewhat full of chlorine, just like a real pool would.

Such adherence to realism! Luna thought and rubbed her burning eyes.

"Why hello, your grace!" the colt next to her giggled. "What do I owe this visit to? I thought you only came to troubled ponies' dreams." 

"Are you saying that we are not welcome here?" Luna squinted at the yellow pony, raising her eyebrow.

The colt gave her a sly smirk.

"On the contrary!" he chuckled and quickly yanked his head higher, before his mouth flooded with water. "Do allow me to wonder what made me important enough for visit, though!"

"We are not snooping on your dreams on a regular basis, if that is what you are worried about." Luna rolled her bloodshot eyes. "We came because of the request you submitted."

"Request...?" the yellow colt blinked. He looked quite stupefied - but something clicked in his mind and he slapped himself over the head. "Ah, right! The request! The case of the missing librarian."

Bending the rules of the dream to make herself effortlessly float, Luna gave a slow nod.

That case, indeed.

"I never thought you'd react so fast," the colt laughed and turned around, floating with his face towards the sky. "I sure never thought I'd be interrogated this way, either."

"Would you rather have us be cliché and pull the chariot out?" Luna frowned.

"Oh no, no! Explaining my case in a swimming pool sure beats chatting in the barracks!" the colt laughed. He drifted lazily along the surface, moving as the currents dragged him. "What could I say, though? All I know is that we have a library with nopony taking care of it! ...which, frankly speaking, is totally weirding me out."

You are acting quite familiar with us, Luna frowned at the casual style. She allowed the offence to slide, though; it didn't seem proper, lecturing commoners inside their own fantasies.

"So the library had been vacant for the last several years?" She returned her attention to the case instead. "It is not in disrepair, we suppose."

"Well... the place is fine actually, but only because Spike has been taking care of it," the colt sighed. "Now, just how he managed to keep up on his own, on the other hoof... I mean, he's basically a foal - I mean, er, hatchling."

The cold water splashing against her neck, Luna wondered why the name twisted the gears in her head. She remembered Spike - he was a young dragon who lived in the Golden Oak, basically running the library on his own. He would also act as a relay whenever Celestia had to send mails to-

Luna jolted and stared in front of her with glassy eyes. All those mails...

Just whom did Celestia send those to?

"Put together all the files you have on the case," Luna snapped her gaze back to the colt. "Do so in a hurry, too. We shall look into the case tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning...!" the stallion gasped as the lazy waves rocked him around. "Your Grace, that's an incredibly tight deadline! Even if I worked through the night and sent everything with the fastest pegasus at hoof, it would still barely cut it!"

"In that case we advise that you stop lazing around," Luna chuckled wryly. Then she used her powers and cancelled the dream straight away, waking both her own self and the other pony up.





Knock.

Luna snapped her ears to the door. Apparently somepony was trying to enter her room; a fairly unusual circumstance. It was shortly before dawn, and with most of the Palace sleeping sound, there were few who would-

Knock!

Rolling her eyes, Luna set the thick tome aside and put her reading glasses on the table. She took a step away - and then hastily returned to place a bookmark on the open page. She didn't want to go through the entirety of the common law again.

Knock-knock-knock!

Glaring at the door for a moment, Luna closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

Thank the twelve Gods that such insistent ponies rarely came to see her.

"WE ARE COMING!" she yelled, hoping that this was enough to calm the numbskull on the other side of the door. She leaped through her room and landed at the door; her hooves had barely slowed her down by the time her magic was pulling the door open.

The visitor turned out to be a pegasus. A pretty worn down one, too; he kept his head low and panted shallowly, his wings dangling at his side, flaking feathers onto the floor.

A first in a long time, Luna was at a loss for words. She raised an eyebrows and wondered, but nothing came to mind.

"Hello... the sarge... sends this..." the pegasus wheezed, blazing past almost all parts of a proper conversation. He didn't wait for any answers either; he simply pulled on the latch at his side, unlocking his saddlebags and crashing them to the floor.

Ah, finally. The case of that librarian!

"Thank you," she gave the messenger a nod. No wonder he was so tired! He must have been racing all the way from Ponyville to Canterlot. "Would you care-"

The messenger didn't allow the princess to make any offer. He gave a short nod and turned away, scampering off at a languished pace, probably off to take a nap in a quiet spot.

Luna wasn't exactly heartbroken over the silent rejection. She grabbed the discarded saddlebags and returned to her room, shutting the doors behind her.





"Excuse me your Highness, but there are some matters requiring your attention."

Luna pulled on the crown, lowering it until it covered her eyes. 

"We are busy, Kibitz."

Kibitz wasn't deterred by such an absent-minded dismissal.

"Your Highness, I understand that you find the additional workload disconcerting. However, with Princess Celestia devoting so much time to her student, there is little choice but to delegate some of her tasks to you," he explained slowly and calmly.

Luna scoffed at the tone - and the whole situation in general. She felt like as if she had been sent back to school, listening to her tutor lecture her over mundane matters she was already familiar with... robbing her of time she needed for the important things, such as finally finishing the report on Ponyville's missing librarian.

On the other hoof, she couldn't tell Kibitz just why she was so busy - and if she were to simply reject the advisor, she wouldn't be painting herself in good colours. She did have an image to maintain, especially nowadays. Few would voice it aloud, but Luna knew: she was still being watched.

She couldn't truly disagree with the reasoning behind the suspicions either. The Nightmare Moon debacle was no joke.

There was no choice; she had to compromise.

"We suppose that we can spare some time in a half hour or so," she glanced at the advisor, then motioned at the papers on her desk. "We must settle this matter first. It is rather urgent."

"As you wish, Highness." Kibitz gave her a token bow, then turned around and walked out of the room. "I shall begin the preparations, then. Please do not take longer than thirty minutes, Highness! The schedule is already quite tight."

The door creaked and closed with a faint thud. Finally left on her own, Luna's first reaction was to frown mightily; that ever-important schedule was starting to get on her nerves. Then she grabbed a quill and began scribbling with haste.

She may have not known the Ponyville case inside-out, but she had already learnt enough to make a decision. She had to put things in motion before she was dragged for another never-ending string of protocol events.





"So you are sleeping during work time."

The sergeant let out a whine and buried his face into his hooves. Then he shooed the other ponies away - aside from the two who were fanning him with oversized palm branches.

"Such a clichéd dream, too," Luna carried her gaze around, further emphasizing her disapproval with a little shake of her head. "After last time, we had higher expectations of you."

"Like it's my fault I was up all night," the sergeant dragged his yellow hooves down his face. "I don't mean anything bad, your Grace, but... are these visits going to be a regular thing now?"

"Many would welcome such attention," Luna glanced at the yellow pegasus.

"Maybe more would get it if you didn't get bogged down with one pony," the sergeant groaned. He quickly realised his error - and made a noise that was the mixture of a hiccup and a yelp. "I mean... your Grace can do as your Grace sees fit, of course."

A dry smirk on her face, Luna allowed the remark and the inept apology to both slide. There was no reason to further antagonize her underling - especially since she may need to rely on him in the future.

"We have taken a look at your findings." She began pacing around the yellow pegasus. A few dossiers started to follow her, appearing out of thin air. "We have to admit: we have never ever been more thoroughly confused."

The yellow pegasus winced as the dossiers exploded into a thousand of floating paper pages. The ponies holding the palm branches saw it wiser to flee - a quite rational reaction, especially for ponies that only existed in a dream.

"Nothing in these matches up," Luna made the papers dance around herself and the sergeant. "Not even the financial records. For all we can see here, the Golden Oak should have gone bankrupt years ago."

"...not to mention ponies taking out books and then returning them all on their own.  I don't know about you... r Grace, but I bet most ponies wouldn't be that orderly," the sergeant chuckled wryly. "Anyhow, I guess now you can see why I asked for your help in the case!"

Luna gave the pegasus a glare - one which he couldn't seem to understand at first.

"...uh, I mean, your Grace!" he realised the mistake with noticeable delay. "Anyway, I bet this library is nothing but a cover-up for something larger!"

Allowing herself a grimace, Luna enjoyed the irony in how clueless yet correct that assumption was. She also wondered what the good sergeant would have done had he known what kind of a conspiracy he poked at.

"We did notice something in your report," she snapped a paper from the floating whirlpool. "It says here that you had interrogated the nearby citizens, as part of the investigation."

The sergeant seemed a little confused at the remark.

"Sure I did. It's standard procedure, your Grace."

"Indeed it is. Very well done," Luna gave the pegasus a curt nod. "One thing caught our eye, however. It says here that three ponies had seen a cyan unicorn exit the library shortly after midnight, a few days ago."

"Umm... well yeah. They did say that. Not sure if I would rely on that lead, though." The sergeant rubbed his chin. His frown hinted at very little good news to follow. "I mean, I'm not sure which is weirder - that a pony would grab books at midnight, or that a bunch of others would spend their night staring at a library. Heh."

Humming loudly, Luna nodded again. That was a sound doubt. She did, however, know of a detail the sergeant was not privy to: that the whole ruckus with Celestia's former student had happened on that very night. She had personally altered the records in Canterlot to make Trixie's sudden appearance less suspicious, so she was absolutely certain when the switch had taken place.

After going through the records of the Golden Oak, Luna had no doubts that she had stumbled over the trail of the missing student. She felt very pleased at the initial results; she was certain that while he had been involved, Discord wasn't the culprit this time. Whoever had committed the crime was an amateur; a being as powerful as Discord, but one lacking in thought and reasoning.

Were the culprit at all smart, she would have known that simply erasing somepony from history wasn't a good way to cover anything up. It left a highly visible trail, like a path of broken grass in an otherwise intact meadow. All Luna had to do was to find and follow the disjointed oddities.

"We would like to talk to that midnight-library pony - in person," she ordered. The whirlwind of papers had stopped at the same moment; the cloud of papers lazily floated mid-air, slowly descending towards the ground.

"Is that an order for capture?" the sergeant raised his eyebrows. "I understand that this order is coming from you, but uh... I don't think anypony will believe me if I tell them I got messages in my dreams."

"We are well aware of that. The necessary papers were signed last night, and are en route to you already." Luna turned slightly, staring the yellow pegasus in the eyes. "We expect you to send that cyan unicorn our way with the earliest train tomorrow."

"As you wish, your Grace. However... that's still a tall order." The sergeant scratched his head. "We have no formal charge and she could resist."

"We can assure you, Sergeant: our word is as good as any charge can get," Luna chuckled wryly. "Bind her in chains if you must! You have our permission. One way or an other, we want that pony in Canterlot by the next sunset."

"Affirmative!" the sergeant saluted. "I'll set my colts after Lyra as soon as I, uh... well, wake up. She'll be on the train by the time your order is here."

Luna twitched her ears. She had heard of that name before, but she couldn't remember anything serious connected to it. That usually meant that the pony in question was one of the useless riff-raff hanging around Canterlot.

"Lyra... huh." She pondered aloud, holding a hoof to her nose. She mused like that for a little while, then turned her teal eyes to the pegasus. "How would you know that?"

"She's a registered threat. We took her in a few weeks ago, after she went berserk during the changeling attack." The sergeant rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, I've no proof it's her... but she's cyan and she's unicorn, so that matches nicely with the eyewitnesses. And she's registered as trouble. All the little dots connect to her."

"She went berserk? Against the changelings?" Luna raised her eyebrows. She tried to imagine a regular pony beating up changelings, but the idea felt off to her. For all their faults, aggression was hardly an issue with ponies.

"Weird, ain't it? I think that she's a little nuts." The sergeant drew circles next to his temple. "She was beating up some royal when we found her... somepony who looks just like Queen Chrysalis. Thank Celestia that alicorn only looks like Chrysalis, or else we'd have some real fancy trouble on our hooves. A commoner beating up a queen...!"

Lyra hummed faintly. Chrysalis... she was certain that she knew all the royals of the world. That name didn't seem to come to her, however. Did we forget?

She shook her head. She knew she wasn't so scatterbrained.

So were we made to forget?

That seemed to be the case. Exactly the same way as everypony had forgotten about Celestia's student.

That similarity couldn't have been a coincidence in itself. But to have that Lyra-someone emerge from the Golden Oak on the same night that Celestia's student had also disappeared...

So it is Lyra. Ho-hum... Lyra, Lyra, Lyra. You are either a foolish master, or a completely careless one. Luna smirked at the picture coming together. We have no reason to complain, though... you have nicely put yourself in our net.

"Very well!" she thundered, pointing a hoof at the sergeant. "Bring that Lyra to us right away!"
> 38 - Found
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra directed a curious glance up, staring at the ringing doorbell. She then peeked behind her, catching one final glimpse of the windigo that remained on the street.

Hate to leave you out here like a bad dog, but Axiom doesn't get along with you, so...

"Welcome to the Sugarcube!"

"Haha, thanks. I-" Lyra giggled. She then returned her eyes to the front - and forgot what she had been wanting to say.

She had been greeted by Twilight Sparkle of all ponies. That didn't do much good for Lyra's mental balance - not to mention her focus.

Wha- uh- what- 

Standing some six steps away from the pony she had personally made disappear, Lyra's brain completely seized up. It just didn't seem possible, having Twilight greet her in the Sugarcube of all places. It was like a bad dream. No - it had to be a bad dream.

There's no way this isn't a bad dream! Lyra grinned wildly and broke into a loud cackle.

"Ardent! Are you weirding out customers again?!"

Both Twilight and Lyra turned to the counter, where Pinkie was emerging behind the pastry-packed display.

"You'll never make a good entrepreneur if you make all the clients run away screaming," Pinkie pointed a hoof at the purple ex-student.

"But I'm not an entrepreneur - I'm an adventurer!" Twilight whined and collapsed, throwing her back against a table. "I'm not even sure how I wound up as a janitor in the first place!"

Still in the doorway, Lyra observed the exchange with her mouth hanging wide open.

What the heck is going on here?!





"Ardent Dawn." Lyra echoed the name in a hushed tone. Truth be told, it was a pretty nice name. She liked the sound of it. She cocked her head to the side, staring at the purple unicorn who was sweeping the floor.

"Has a ring to it, doesn't it? All sorts of poetic and stuff." Pinkie giggled, her gaze also on the same pony. "You know, with dawn being the counterpart to twilight and all that."

Pulling her mouth to an aloof grin, Lyra nodded lightly. She could have given Pinkie the praise the baker obviously longed for - were she in the same jubilant mood.

She wasn't.

"Why is she here?" she wrinkled her eyebrows.

Pinkie lifted her head from the counter - only barely, just enough so she could turn her eyes to Lyra.

"Well, where else could she be?" she asked with honest curiosity on her face.

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows and hummed. She had never given that aspect much thought. She had only agreed with Pinkie in the most generic outlines - basically that she'd send the amnesiac Twilight to the Sugarcube. Anything after that point was up to the crazy baker.

Truth be told, Lyra had never once considered just where Twilight could go after she stopped being Twilight.

What an epic screw-up, Lyra chuckled darkly and buried her face in her hooves. Here she was, the self-appointed saviour of Equestria, already making plans to seize Canterlot and all the servants within! ...and yet, she still kept failing to get all the basic details right.

No matter what she was doing, she was still ruining lives at every turn.

"Anyway, I figured that if Twi' were to live under somepony else's roof, then she might as well live under mine." Pinkie got off the counter, then lowered her head to the line of pastries behind the glass. "I mean, this roof is quality work! Guaranteed to last a few generations... unless the monster of the week blows it up, heh."

Lyra reflexively cast a glance upwards. Indeed, the ceiling looked pretty sturdy, with waist-thick crossbeams running from wall to wall.

"So you just wanted to keep her close?" she mused out loud. "Didn't that strike you as... uh..."

"Generous?" Pinkie wiggled her eyebrows. "Entertaining?!"

"Stupid." Lyra shook her head. "Dangerously stupid, I mean."

"Well, how about complaining before you dumped this responsibility on me?" Pinkie muttered. She didn't seem very upset - certainly not upset enough to even pause doing her work. She was righting a price tag even as she spoke. "I mean - I'm just a silly baker, cluelessly assuming that nopony could recognise Twi' anymore!"

"Yeah, okay, I did erase Twilight Sparkle." Lyra looked away with frown. "But that doesn't mean that you HAVE to push your luck. What if somepony recognised her?!"

Pinkie finally gave the counter a rest. She pulled her hoof out of the display and turned to Lyra, a completely shocked expression on her face.

"Wait. You say there's a pony who could still recognise her?" Pinkie cocked her head to the side. She started looking a little creepy - she was staring so intently that she didn't even blink. 

Her mouth twisting in anger, Lyra rose her hoof passionately. 

"Everypony knew Twilight Sparkle! Every- uh-"

She faltered, her uncertainty signified by how her hoof dropped towards the ground. Indeed - nopony could have remembered Twilight. Not even the servant, two exceptions aside.

"Teehee, thought so!" Pinkie rubbed her hooves together with a giggle. "You are the silly one! Ardent Dawn could parade straight into Canterlot and nopony but us could tell the trick." 

Laying limp against the wooden base of the counter, Lyra rubbed her numb face and wondered if it was normal to be outsmarted by a baker of all ponies.

"But why the fake persona?" she asked aloofly, her glassy stare resting on the floor. "I... kind of assumed that you'd just return her to normal and tell her to lie low."

She didn't say, but she had always assumed that's what a friend would have done. Which made the surprise of the new Twilight all the more shocking.

"Normal..." Pinkie raised an eyebrow, then motioned at the purple unicorn in the distant end of the Sugarcube. "Do you mean there's something off about Ardent?"

"Uh... yeah?" Lyra rubbed her head. For a split-second, she wondered whether this was a trick question - but she only had the same answer even if it was. "She's not Ardent Dawn, for example. Because Ardent Dawn... well, that pony has never existed. Not until you invented her."

Pinkie hummed at the complaint, then folded her front legs on her chest.

"Well, show me the rule that the fake can't beat the original!" she groaned and rubbed her forehead. "I mean, those Daring Do novels are a big thing for good reasons, right?"

"You made Twilight think that she's a bucking Daring Do?!" Lyra sprang to her hooves, shrieking so loudly that even the purple unicorn stared in her direction. "WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU?! That's- that's wrong on so many levels-!"

"Pfuh-lease. I could have done worse." Pinkie waved a hoof in utter dismissal. "I could have made her think that she's the student of Celestia... or that she's the sister of Shining Armour! Or that she had lived here for years, becoming a close friend of ours. You know, really outlandish fantasies like those."

Standing like a pony who had been doused with boiling water, Lyra drooped her ears and took a faltering step backwards. That thrice-darned baker was right, of course; even worse yet, everything she said was so blindingly obvious that Lyra felt dumbstruck that she hadn't realised earlier.

"Only a raving lunatic would claim such things," Pinkie winked at Lyra, her hoof circling next to her head. "So I don't see the problem in substituting that mumbo-jumbo with something that makes sense!"

Shocked into silence, Lyra simply gave a numb nod for an answer.





"Master looks as if she's seen a ghost," Snowy hopped to Lyra's side the moment she set hoof on the street outside.

Lyra simply paced forward with a vacant expression. She made a cloud of dust as she walked, kicking her hoof whenever a loose-looking pile of dust wound up in her way.

"Master didn't find the pastries Master was intending to get, I take it?" Snowy tried again. They have crossed a few streets without either of them speaking; the silence seemed to embolden the windigo. "I mean, I can understand how going hungry would upset Master. Ponies need to-"

"What the heck have I been doing!" Lyra kicked a larger pebble away. The rock spun around on the uneven road, finally bouncing high and knocking loudly against a house.

Both master and windigo stopped for a moment, staring at the hoof-sized spot where the paint flaked off - right next to a window.

"Uhh... to me, Master seems to have almost broken a window." Snowy cocked her head to the side.

"Even when I'm trying my darnest, I'm still leaps and bounds behind everypony else!" Lyra shook her head wildly, seething in a subdued tone. It was a strange combination. Her rage sought a way to escape - but the more self-conscious part of her didn't want anypony else to overhear. Even when there were none nearby. "Why, why, why am I the only one stumbling around?! Why is everypony else so... so... so..."

Competent was what she couldn't bring herself to say.

The thoughts in her mind felt heavy; even though she fought - to the point where she clenched her teeth - she only found comfort once her head was hanging low.

Damn it all.

There was no point in admitting shortcomings. She had done things already - horrible, irrecoverable things. Discord, Twilight... there was no going back on those.

Squeezing her eyes closed, Lyra wondered if this was how the warlords of the old ages must have felt - knowing they are about to commit to a losing battle, yet having no choice but to rush forward anyway. 

How did the gryphon commander lament in that opera, again?

God sometimes deals a hand of misfortune... you can also feel it in your bones, don't you? Moments like these... when God looks the other way.

Struggling with so much weight on her back, Lyra could already see herself failing. It was inevitable. How could she, a mere pony who had only ever known the peaceful high society life, now take on the whole world and win?

Of course it was impossible. It was a completely unreasonable premise.

I'm stumbling because I'm way over my head... I was never meant to do this, she cringed and gave in, collapsing in the dust in silence. Why did I let myself get strung along so easily? Why, why, why...

"Stumbling around - that may be because the heart is blind." Snowy spoke up all of a sudden, the windigo's calm voice breaking the spell that Lyra forced upon herself.

"The heart...?" Lyra squinted at the windigo, unfocused and a little lost.

"Master has done what Master felt just. Kind of... wishing well, in a way." Snowy giggled and gave her master a warm grin. "Some complications did happen along the way, that's true. But I think it's alright - because at least we've tried! And because we have always meant well. I believe that's what really matters."

Blinking dazedly from the dust, Lyra wasn't sure what to think at first. She was being comforted by a fearsome ice demon, for Equestria's sake!

She decided that the only possible choice was to snicker, and then laugh a little a bit.

"As if trying ever mattered...!" she chuckled, once she reigned her laughter in. "Snowy... do you know the saying, 'even the road to Tartarus is paved with good intentions'?"

"Mmm, no, I don't." Snowy rubbed her chin. "But it sounds proper! Even the sinners should enjoy a comfortable walk."

A faint crack rang out - Lyra's forehead acquired an imprint of her own left hoof.

"That's an idiom, you idiot." She rolled her eyes. "It means that intentions don't matter... only how things actually turn out."

Snowy pursed her mouth. She then turned away, her red eyes focused on the flaking paint near the window.

Lyra wasn't sure what to make of that response. She massaged the spot where she hit herself on the head, biding her time - but she couldn't decipher the ghost's expression, no matter how long she tried.

"Then perhaps saving this village was the wrong thing to do?" Snowy finally pulled her head back. While the windigo's eyes were solid red, Lyra could somehow tell that Snowy was focusing on her.

"Wha- of course it wasn't!" she blurted out, confused by the odd stare and the even odder question. "But c'me on, Snowy! That was the only unequivocal good deed of ours! Why would you question it now?"

Snowy continued doing the unexpected - she grinned.

"Because since then we have learnt that it wasn't just bad fortune that brought the changelings here... it was part of somepony else's plan." The windigo cracked her eye open and raised her translucent eyebrows. "I was the prize, wasn't I? Master and the village... were nothing but bystanders getting in the way. Collateral."

Rapidly blinking, Lyra backed off a step. Not because of what the windigo had said, no; that was her very own explanation being retold to her. The mere fact that Snowy opposed her took her by surprise - the windigo had always readily kowtowed before.

"Had Master not beat the changelings off, I would likely be masterless... or in Canterlot already. The whole ploy was for the Princess to acquire one more servant... and who knows? With me on her side, she may have won already." Snowy carried on, her mouth widening to a grin that showed all her sharp, see-through teeth. "And after that victory, there'd be no more squabbling over servants anymore. That should be something to celebrate, am I right?"

Lyra turned her head sideways and looked at the windigo questioningly.

"Are you... not happy with me, or...?"

"Oh no! I am really proud to serve Master." Snowy lowered herself to the ground. "This is exactly why I would rather not have Master say things like the end justifying the means. Such talk leads to villages getting torched... throwing away a hundred so that a thousand may celebrate."

Towering above the windigo in the deserted street, Lyra couldn't get herself to answer that plea. She wasn't even sure what to think. How could somepony who had racked failure upon failure not be dissatisfied with the results?

...which was what she had thought until now.

"Huh," Lyra mumbled, propping her chin up with her hoof. "I hadn't thought of that."

Indeed, she could have been a lot more successful had she abused Snowy. Alas, the thought simply never occurred to her. Even now, when she was finally willing to make sacrifices for a greater good, she still wasn't feeling good about those necessities. She wasn't expecting to come out ahead of the deal either, and that also helped to calm her conscience.

"The heart is blind," Snowy glanced up from the dust. "Master listening to her heart has lead to mistakes, yes... but it's a quality to be treasured. I don't think anypony else had tried what Master is doing now. Surely that's no less important than some setbacks!"

Moving her hoof to her temple, Lyra shook her head sombrely.

"Stop the empty praises, you doof.  I doubt I would be the first to have tried stopping this game," she motioned to the windigo to get up. "With this much power, it's ridiculously easy to break things. It's like living in a house of cards. One wrong push..."

"Hmm. Master may think so, but to me, the rest seemed rather content with their share." Snowy frowned. "Miss Trixie happily abused Origin, for example. Remember the time Master offered my services to her! She didn't even hesitate. Master barely finished the sentence... and Miss Trixie had already agreed."

Biting onto her lip, Lyra had to acknowledge that fact; Trixie had been suspiciously eager indeed. But even discounting that odd wizard, she was still yet to meet a player who wanted the game to be gone.

Twisting her head and giggling to herself, Lyra couldn't help but feel a bit weird. To think that she, the pony who had brought nothing but misfortune, was still ahead of the pack somehow.

"Hahaha... what can I say? I always have been kind of a nutty pony," she broke into a loud cackle. "A hopeless, dreaming dunce, that's what I am!"

"Seems that title is not without perks," Snowy winked at her.





"Soldiers, all of them in shiny armour... the Royal Guard, I reckon." Snowy narrowed her eyes as she tried to get the details right. "Four of them, one bearing fancier headgear than the rest. Probably an officer."

Not more than ten steps away, Lyra was hiding behind the corner, listening to her invisible scout and going through the contingency plans she had in mind.

She didn't have a plan for this exact situation, though. She wasn't expecting to see soldiers guarding the door to her house.

Why are they here? she grimaced, squeezing herself against the cold wall. Did they figure out that I released Discord?

She rejected the idea almost immediately.

Discord is a national emergency... would they know I was the instigator, I would be The Public Enemy. I bet there would be a lot more than four soldiers to arrest me then!

The number of troopers puzzled her. Four was too few for a real threat, but also too many for just checking on a troublemaking pony.

Maybe I'm just over-thinking this, Lyra massaged her forehead with two hooves. So what if they search my house? They couldn't pin anything on me.

She had nothing illicit at home. The collection of Canterlot's high-detail maps could have been the most suspicious, but maps weren't prohibited items. She could have been planning her vacation for all the Guard knew.

The diary held all the details to her plans of sneaking into the Palace - to face Celestia, finally snatching the servants from her. 

But the very diary wasn't in Lyra's house; it had been left in Pinkie's safekeeping. As a sort of safety net, Lyra had left the book at the Sugarcube, occasionally visiting the crazy baker to make the required few updates. And to buy some sweets, of course.

"So what do we do?" Snowy motioned at the soldiers. "Should I make them forget about Master?"

Lyra firmly shook her head. There was no telling if those soldiers meant harm to her in the first place. General ethics aside, four confused troopers may have been more dangerous than four idling ones; and in case they did have standing orders to take her in, those were likely made in writing. Mind-wipe these four, and more would come tomorrow. Most likely angrier ones, too.

No, she needed a different way to handle the situation.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes... then stepped out from cover, walking towards her home with firm steps.

Here goes nothing.

"Oh - okay," Snowy nodded with some delay, then fell into her place at her Master's side.

The soldiers didn't notice Lyra approaching for a rather long while. They seemed pretty busy chatting among themselves, giggling and occasionally bumping each other on the helmet. Then one of them glanced at Lyra. It was clear that she was recognised right away, but the soldier still hesitated.... and finally broke into a loud yell, wildly pointing at her with a hoof.

And the fun begins, Lyra grimaced at the sight of all four troopers turning towards her in unison.

The way they began marching, it didn't seem like they came to have a conversation. Helmets lowered to the point of brims covering the stern eyebrows, hooves pounding on the ground, the two unicorns in the back holding their spears perfectly upright - Lyra knew where she had seen that choreography before.

Aww. They look like they're marching on parade.

Lyra wasn't alone with that thought, apparently. The unusual scene drew the attention of many bystanders; there were almost two dozen ponies staring by the time the soldiers reached Lyra.

"Why hello," she forced a weak smile. She addressed the yellow pony in the front; she recognised the Sarge from her time in custody. "Forgot to ask me a question back in the barracks?"

The sergeant didn't appreciate the joke. He stopped right in Lyra's face - he was so close that Lyra could feel his breath ruffling the fur on her nose - his expression so forced and static that he could have been carved from stone for all intents and purposes.

"Lyra Heartstrings, you are hereby under arrest."

Even the fake grin faded from Lyra's face.

"What for?" she gasped.

"For the foalnapping of the Golden Oak's librarian," the sergeant growled, then motioned with his head. "Colts, you know the plan."





One surprise followed another. Lyra was expecting to be taken back to the cell she had 'visited' the last time - but she was put on a train instead.

It didn't seem like a well-planned operation. The wagon was already full of passengers when her captors arrived to the station; it took the sergeant more than a quarter hour to order everypony off. Then she was pushed up the stairs; those pikes could be wonderfully convincing, once they began poking her in the rear. She was made sit in the middle of the empty car, surrounded by the four Royal Guard troopers, Snowy idly observing by her side.

It was a rather surreal scene; Lyra's only frame of reference came from cheap thriller novels. She never assumed that real ponies could be whisked away by the Guard. It went so easily, too. They had passed countless ponies on their way to the station, but not a single one of them asked just why she was being dragged away. All they did was move out of the way and stare.

They didn't say a thing, but Lyra had no trouble understanding them.

I'm glad this isn't my problem, their faces read.  You're under arrest, so you must have done something. Serves you right!

It was somewhat disheartening to think that she had tossed her life away for that ungrateful lot.

A loud horn blared outside and the whole car shifted. The troopers had it easy; they were sitting on the designated seats, backs to the separator walls. Lyra had no such luck. She was sitting in the spot where all four colts could see her - the middle of the corridor. She had nothing to brace against; so she swayed back and forth when the train began moving, finally stumbling forward.

Three Guards yelled at her in the very same instant.

"DON'T MOVE!"

The fourth trooper let his actions do the talking instead of his mouth. He grabbed his spear, the shiny tip of the weapon almost scraping against Lyra's side.

Whoooaa, Lyra gulped, her gaze on the pointy piece of metal. It took her a lot of willpower to obey the instructions and stay still, so close to danger.

"That wasn't very smart, Mister soldier!" Snowy paced between Lyra and the colt, walking right across the spear. "You shouldn't handle dangerous tools like that... especially not a moving platform."

It took Lyra a few seconds to get what the windigo was talking about. Then, once she finally understood, she began sweating cold.

One bump, and that spear could easily wind up between her ribs.

Gulping loudly and staring at the weapon with wide eyes, she weighed her choices. She very much wanted to protest, or at least point the danger out... but on the other hoof, these Guards looked really edgy. Whatever they had been told, they clearly regarded her as a serious threat. She had to take that into account; surrounded by armed and nervous colts, anything she did or said could have carried dire consequences.

Unfriendly weapons being flung at her, for example.

"Hey! Hey, you! Put that away!" the sergeant barked loudly. "What are you thinking, holding that spear like that?! You're gonna stab her if this train as much as bumps!"

Watching the spear inch away from her proximity, Lyra closed her eyes and gave a trembling sigh.

That was... preeetty close.

"Sorry Sir," the colt mumbled, his magic sliding the spear to the ground next to him. "I was just worried she'd try somethin', 's all."

Lyra wasn't really placated by the half-hearted apology. She was scared to death, for Equestria's sake! From the corner of her eye, she saw the sergeant give a hearty nod though; he, on the other hoof, looked quite satisfied. 

"Can't be careful enough," the sergeant returned to the more comfortable position of leaning against the wooden wall. "But try to be more careful the next time, m'kay? Orders are that we need to bring this witch to Canterlot - in one piece."

Witch! Lyra grimaced at her designation. She turned to the sergeant, ready to protest against that nonsense - but she didn't get further than opening her mouth.

Canterlot, her mind caught onto the word, and that word cancelled all the other thoughts she had. I'm being taken to Canterlot. These colts were ordered to take me to Canterlot.

She carried her gaze around, slowly and carefully. The soldiers, who had so calmly paraded her around town, now appeared shaken. No matter where Lyra looked, she only saw glassy stares focusing on her. It was as if those colts were ordered to escort Discord himself to Canterlot.

Lyra almost pitied them. Almost. After the episode with the spear, she was much more ready to be wary of them instead.

Soldiers! Pffft. More like pitiful mules. They seem so tough but only while there are other ponies also staring me down; they cower like scared kittens once they are all alone with me. As if the townsfolk would could have helped them! Those ponies would have simply ran for their lives... just like back then, with the changelings. Bah.

A wry grimace on her face, Lyra decided on doing something brave: she sat down. All the soldiers winced at the move, their armours creaking. Then they saw that Lyra wasn't up to anything, and the tension in the air dropped back to normal levels. Loud sighs rang out, and the four Guards leaned against the wooden walls like four sacks of ground wheat, their heads bobbing to the rhythm of the train rocking around.





"I don't think this is how their plan was supposed to work out," Snowy scratched the back of her neck.

"Yeah, it's a bit... surprising." Lyra frowned with a tiny shake of her head. "It does explain why it was up to us to stop the changelings, though."

She didn't need to whisper. Her voice was drowned out by the loud snoring; barely more than eight hours into the journey, and all the four soldiers were already fast asleep. The spears, now without supervision, rolled back and forth in the open cabins as the train moved, occasionally bumping against the wooden walls with light knocks.

It's really scary to think these folks were... eh, 'guarding' Ponyville all this time, Lyra pressed a hoof against her temple. And the rest of Equestria, too. Oh my sweet merciful everything.

The more she learnt of them, the Guard seemed more of a bad joke than a military, if she were honest. Though then again - none of those colts had ever seen a real fight, much less been in one. Even if armed and armoured, those ponies were closer to errand-ponies than actual warriors.

Watching a spear roll around freely, Lyra wondered if that colt would have really stabbed her earlier. He looked very much afraid, and nervous ponies could always do unexpected things... but looking back with a calm head, Lyra felt fairly certain that she was in no real danger. These ponies couldn't bring themselves to fight changelings after all - so there was no way they would harm a fellow pony, no matter what lies Celestia had told them.

Assuming they wouldn't get a spear through side out of sheer ineptitude, that is.

"Me, a witch...!" Lyra hissed absent-mindedly, shaking her head in disbelief.

The nerve!

"Technically, that description may have merits." Snowy hummed - and backed off when her master turned around, giving her a stern glare. "Ah, ah - let me explain! By Equestrian standards, I'm a pretty powerful being, right? And I'm also invisible to most ponies. Master also commands my powers freely. Sooo... to anypony else, it would appear that those powerful abilities were Master's own, right? To any ordinary pony, Master would look supernatural. Kind of like a... witch."

Lyra made a sour face. That explanation made a lot of sense - she could see Celestia going by that description simply to save herself the effort of explaining servants and whatnot to ordinary soldiers.

"Frickin' Sunbutt!" she moaned, rubbing her neck with fury. "She's always so clever! Gahhh, I'm really afraid to meet her now."

"Sunbutt...?" Snowy squinted, cocking her head to the side.

"Celestia," Lyra waved her hoof dismissively, then paused to stare at the strands of mane sticking to said hoof. "Dis- uh- Mister D called her that, remember?"

Giving the torn strands of hair a pass, Lyra stretched her neck and sighed in relief. That was close. No matter how deep those soldiers were sleeping, she shouldn't have mentioned Discord out loud - not even in a whisper. Nopony knew of her connection to his release yet - and it was best left that way for as long as possible.

"Oh... how informal." Snowy giggled in obvious awkwardness. She then cleared her throat, returning to a her usual tone. "Anyhow, why does Master think that Cel... uh, Princess Sunbutt is behind this?"

Why does it take only one misstep for you to learn all my bad habits? Lyra glared briefly at the windigo.

"It's obvious," she sighed and lowered herself to the floor. She had been standing and sitting for so long, her front legs were demanding a rest. "C'me on, work that tiny brain of yours!"

Waiting for the answer, Lyra rolled on her side and stretched her legs in the air. It felt painful for a passing moment - and very, very comfortable afterwards. She almost enjoyed that rushing sensation when the sore muscles stopped aching.

A blue figure crept into her view shortly afterwards, the ruby eyes staring at her expectantly.

"Pretty please," Snowy purred.

Lyra rolled her eyes and dropped her legs on the floor.

"These soldiers got orders to take me to Canterlot," she explained in a hushed tone and very slowly. "Snowy, how many ponies could give such orders?"

"Hmmm," Snowy looked away and hummed.

Oh come on! This should be really obvious.

Laying completely limp, Lyra hoped the windigo would be able to recall something of the last few days - which they spent hunched over the various maps of Canterlot and the Palace, going through what seemed like strategic locations, studying the layout of the known Guard units.

"Fourteen," Snowy coughed up an answer - one that made Lyra give a disbelieving stare, prompting the windigo to elaborate. "The Princesses, the acting Captain of the Guard, all eight generals, and three divisional commanders... this assuming that the lower ranked ponies have no way of knowing of the game."

"Ah-kaaaay," Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. Somehow, she found herself wishing that Snowy didn't recall all the trivial details that well. It would have made explaining all the lot easier. "Set the bar higher. I don't think anypony but those two know of this game, you know."

"That still leaves two," Snowy shook her head. "That's the same chance as tossing a coin."

"True," Lyra smirked dryly. "But when I talked to the viscount in the Dancing Lights... remember that? He talked of the crowned white hag. There's only one white princess, right?"

"White hag?" Snowy squinted and cocked her head to the side. "That's... a pretty peculiar way to talk of one's master."

"Guess they had a good relationship," Lyra waved her hoof in the air. "But seriously, why would FF mention Sunbutt if he had ties to Luna instead? Nah, I'm pretty sure-"

The conversation was interrupted by loud clattering. The train crossed an uneven part of the track and the wagon shook, bouncing Lyra into the air and then against the floor. Worse yet, all the noise and the wild battering woke the guards up; the two colts on her left stirred, shifting around and mumbling.

Lyra saw it better to pretend she was asleep. Rather that than deal with the awkwardness of staring at those colts in complete silence for hours.





The protracted silence had its benefits; it allowed Lyra to distance herself from her situation, and to prepare for her eventual arrival to the capital.

In a way, this might even be useful, she mused to herself. I do need to the servants from Canterlot... and now I'll be taken straight to that white witch. Almost sounds convenient, now that I think about it. 

The tips of her lips curled a tiny bit.

This means I'll only need to worry about getting out, right?

She wriggled the skin on her nose. The car must have been freshly renovated, as the floor smelled of lacquer.

Heh... 'only'. It's going to be as easy as evading all the hornets after you've poked at their nest.

She twitched a little, trying to shift the weight to a different part of her side. She had never noticed during sleep, but her side would get incredibly sore after a good ten minutes of constant pressure. And then, after she had moved, the relief arrived in the form of a thousand pins pricking her.

It took Lyra a lot of willpower not to make a face.

This is easily the most uncomfortable train ride I ever had, she cringed internally. Which still didn't sound that bad once she considered that alternatives; even if not so fancy, she still preferred this train ride to a small and smelly prison cell.

"You think she's asleep?"

Her teeth grinding against each other, Lyra kept her ears from turning towards the voice.

"Well, she ain't been movin' for a while now," came a different voice from the opposite direction. "Fast asleep, I reckon."

You know nothing, Lyra chuckled silently, suppressing her desire to make a smug grin. It was a victory of the most minuscule scale, but she was taking them as they came.

"She's so creepy, even when she's asleep."

A shudder raced down Lyra's back.

Oi, that's like, really insulting! Are you saying I'm disfigured or something? You're saying I'm ugly, isn't that what you're saying?!

"Eh, looks pretty ordinary to me. Just a sleepin' mare. Yer' just bein' nervous... loosen up, dude. Chillax."

Lyra imagined turning to that other Guard and patting him on the head.

Why thank you!

"But that's exactly that freaks me out! She isn't ordinary... didn't you hear about her?"

Lyra couldn't help herself. Her ear moved a little, tuning in to the news. She was pretty curious to what the rumours were saying about her.

"Think I saw 'er on posters... somethin' 'bout the Opera," the other trooper hummed. A lengthy silence followed; whatever the colt remembered about the poster, it didn't come easily to him.

Lying on the floor, Lyra was rooting the for the fellow. C'me on! You can do it! I'm lying right in front of you - just look at my cutie mark!

"Think she was a singer or somethin'."

Whoosh - with that remark, all the positive thoughts had left Lyra's mind. She was biting her tongue to keep herself from jumping up and screaming, in fact.

"No - not that! And just who gives a hoot about the Opera anyway? All they do there is scream weird lyrics all day... nobility and their weird hobbies, blah."

The wagon jumped a little, filling the air with loud racket for a few moments. Which was all and well, as it hid the sounds of Lyra grinding her teeth.

Be calm, girl. Don't stand up and buck that idiot in the face. Calm thoughts. Happy thoughts.

"No, what I'm talking about is the changeling invasion of a few weeks ago. You remember that one, right?"

Lyra's ear perked. She was still seething with anger, but the topic began to rekindle her interest.

"Well, I was on leave that day, thank Celestia. But yea', I kinda' heard things. What 'bout it?"

Something shifted; the floor creaked. Judging by the noises, Lyra assumed the soldiers got off their lazy butts and walked to each other to converse.

Please talk loudly enough so I can still overhear, she squeezed her eyes in the vain attempt to focus on her ear. She was in luck; her ears were good, and the noisy train forced the soldiers to keep their voice up.

"I've heard that this... 'pony' stopped the whole invasion," an agitated voice whispered. "She grabbed a sword and went absolutely nuts. We had to cordon the whole plaza off... the cleaning crews were hauling dead bugs away for one whole day."

Oi, oi, oi... that wasn't me! Lyra wrinkled her forehead. She actually tried to keep the casualties to a minimum - it was the Source who had gone on a stabbing-spree.

It would make sense that everything would fall back on her head, though. Only she knew of the Source's involvement, after all. To anypony else, everythingthat had happened on the plaza must have been her doing.

So now I'm a psycho as well, she exhaled, her hot breath playing with her mane as it bounced back from the floor. Fan-bucking-tastic.

"Hah! S'if I believed anythin' like that. One lone pony ain't stoppin' a horde of bugs! Besides, I've heard that the garrison took care of 'em - it was a propah' charge an' everythin'. You know, the same folks who took yer'... eh, super-pony into custody."

The muscles in Lyra's leg spasmed. Her uncomfortable position had little to do with that; it was reliving the memory that hurt the most.

"Don't believe everything you hear, dude. I was part of that charge... and I can tell you: we didn't fight anything. We just watched the bugs run away."

A moment of silence set in, and Lyra could almost feel the confusion in the air. She could easily imagine the two soldiers blinking at each other. 

"Yep, you heard me right. The bugs were already running for their lives by when we got there... so somepony had to beat them, right?"

"Hmm, yea'. They would'n just flee without nommin' on some yummy ponies first."

Another period of silence followed. Lying on the ground and waiting, Lyra alternated between two desires: she wanted to scream and to scratch. Badly. The pretend-sleep was easy when she could hear the soldiers converse, but the long silence left her clueless about them.

She couldn't imagine them doing anything but staring at her - and the feeling made her uneasy on so many levels.

"And you say she's been the lone pony on the plaza? As in, all alone?"

So you ARE staring at me, Lyra gulped. Her leg twitched; she needed to move, at least a very little. She would go nuts if she couldn't release the stress somehow.

"Yep, alone - and beating up somepony who looked like a big bug. I mean, I'm not a huge fan of conspiracy theories... but how else could you explain all this?"

"I see what yer' sayin'. But, if she's a bug-beater... then why are we takin' her to Canterlot, again?"

"Because she is dangerous. But... if you ask me, it's the same reason why we had a huge bug-wave rolling in after the Princess ordered most of the force to Canterlot," the soldier grunted, his last words mingling with the claps his hooves made on the floor. "Seriously, did you ever consider that the princesses are basically immortal... politicians?"

"Haha, ain't truth depressin'. Well, better hope even snails can grow backbones, rite'?" the other soldier said with a muffled giggle. "For our sakes'... and fo' this pony, too."

"Just don't let the sarge hear you saying any of that," the first soldier giggled. "One wrong word and cleaning the toilets will be your sole career."

Unable to keep herself still any longer, Lyra mimicked a yawn and lifted her head into the air.

"Umm, sorry... but I think I've heard the word toilet, aaand... any chance you folks would, err... let me go visit the one here?"

She gave her eyes a careful rub and yawned again - it was hard to stop once she got into the habit. She felt surprisingly groggy, too. Pretend sleep or not, her eyes acted as if she had slept for two days straight, her eyelids sticking together with each blink.

A few more blinks, and she could see properly; curiously enough, she found one soldier amiss. She saw the sergeant and a soldier sleeping on her right, with another soldier and Snowy being on her left. She did the count again; but one pony was still unaccounted for.

Even more curiously, the one awake soldier didn't reach for his spear. He was sticking to his spot as if his hooves were nailed to the floor; he only glanced to his sleeping superior time and again, but didn't do anything else.

What the... Lyra rubbed her head.

"Y... yea. J-j... just go an'... an' use the toilet," came a shaky voice from behind her. Turning around, Lyra didn't see anypony; the fourth soldier was likely hiding in another cabin, behind the wooden separator wall. "As... as long as ya' promise to not go berserk on us..."

What a bunch of sissies, Lyra rolled her eyes. No wonder you were so helpless against the changelings.

She rose up and stretched her legs. Her muscles protested against the sudden usage, but it was the wonderful kind of pain - after hours of lying on the floor, any kind of movement was a little piece of heaven.





"So this is Canterlot," Snowy clicked her tongue as she hopped off the train. "Pretty!"

Lyra followed the gaze of her servant once her legs were on solid ground. The sight didn't captivate her so much; she had seen the place so many times that it almost became her second home. With that having been said, the tall white spires looked quite fancy with the sunset behind them.

Too bad she didn't have more time to enjoy the scenic sight. She was shepherded along by two soldiers - into the ring of at least twenty-eight more. She had arrived to the main train station of Canterlot, but the place was oddly deserted; there weren't any civilians to be seen. Everypony around Lyra wore uniforms - either belonging to the train crew or to the Royal Guard.

Talking about uniforms, Lyra couldn't help but notice how the new soldiers wore golden armour instead of the more usual bronze.

They must be related to the Palace, she surmised, sneaking a few glances at her new company.

A stocky stallion broke off from the rest of the large group. He wore a bright-red cloak on top of his armour, and his headgear was also fancier than that of the rest. He stopped in front of Lyra's group, forcing all five of them to stop.

"Very well done, sergeant. Well done indeed," the stocky stallion declared. He had a clear but powerful voice; Lyra couldn't help but wonder if he could have become a singer with some training. "The Twenty-Sixth takes the prisoner over from here."

"Sir, yes Sir!" the sergeant saluted and took a step to the side, his subordinates also following suit. 

Watching their faces, Lyra found that the four of them looked... quite relaxed, now that they didn't have to safeguard the 'witch' of theirs. She didn't have the chance for a lengthy observation, though; her former captors departed and the new - much more numerous - group formed a circle around her.

Lyra accepted that fact with wry frown. She had no choice but to bear with the change in situation.

She was still on her way to meet with the Princess, after all.





"Whoaaaa... this palace is huuuge!"

Her forehead rich with wrinkles, Lyra wished that Snowy would act less like a curious filly. The windigo had been bouncing around like a sugar-high lunatic all the way to the Palace - and lost practically all self-control once they were treading the richly decorated halls.

While normally commendable, that level of enthusiasm was quickly wearing Lyra's nerves down.

"Look at that picture! Oooh, all the detail... I can see the individual feathers on this gryphon!"

"Try not to get lost," Lyra growled under her breath. "Gawk too long, and I sure won't come back looking for you."

Nor would she be able to, but that was besides the point. The threat worked; as if dragged by a magic string, Snowy appeared at her side right away. The ghost's head was still rotating like a weathercock though, always facing the newest spectacle.





The whole group took a turn to the left, moving into a smaller corridor. It was still grossly oversized by any standards - the whole contingent fit in there without any issues, after all - but compared to the absurdly spacious hallways of earlier, it was a definite step back.

I wonder where I'm being taken to, Lyra looked around, a little worried. She was expecting to be taken straight to the throne room; that's where Celestia must have been, after all.

The smaller corridors didn't mesh well with that expectation.

I doubt the way to the throne room would so twisty-turny.

"HALT! AT-TEN-SHUN!"

The whole group froze in place, and all the troopers flung their hooves to their helmets. Lyra had no idea why they stopped all of a sudden - but she decided to blend into the group as much as she could. She also rose her hoof and held it to her forehead, just like she did when the sun shone into her eyes.

Because that's what a salute was... right?

Peeking around, she couldn't help but feel that her attempt at blending in was less than successful. The soldier closest to her even wrinkled his eyebrows in open disapproval.

Well sue me, Lyra steeled her face and kept her hoof right where it was. I'm not a soldier. Be glad that I'm even trying.

Blinking at her master in confusion, Snowy sat down - and also did something resembling a salute. It looked as if she was scratching her face, but as far as Lyra cared, it was the thought that counted.

And then she heard it.

Hoofclaps.

Once they weren't moving, it was easy to hear; somepony was approaching.

So we stopped because a high-ranking pony is here, Lyra mused. So you're finally here, princess...

The front row of the soldiers stopped saluting and quickly hurried to the side - revealing a tall, blue alicorn with a black crown on her head.

"...Luna?!" Lyra gasped.

"That's Princess Luna for you," the soldier behind her barked, the rest staring at her in open contempt.

"Y- yes. I'm sorry. Princess," Lyra sputtered, almost melting in the focus of the sixty-something eyes.

"Lyra Heartstrings, we presume." Luna spoke, drawing all the attention to herself. "We have been looking forward to this encounter."

Staring at the Princess of the Night from the distance of a mere few steps, Lyra gulped nervously.

Maybe it was just her own imagination, but there was something really unnerving in the way the princess was staring at her.

To think I’m intimidated by someone who doesn’t have any servants, Lyra mused sourly and glanced away, opting to stare at the black-themed crown instead of Luna’s face.

Then the realisation sunk in, and she looked around as overtly as she could. Indeed - apart from Snowy and Luna, only ordinary soldiers surrounded her.

So Luna doesn’t have any servants, huh? Lyra cocked her a tiny bit to the side, her mouth pulling to a dry smirk.

Well, big news. I always knew it was that white hag calling the shots.
> 39 - Returned
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The list never seemed to end; though truth be told, Lyra had no idea how she was supposed to read it in the first place. There were numbers scrawled all over the page. They must have adhered to some sort of logic, but its nature completely eluded her.

She lowered the long sheet and scratched her head, finally sneaking a peek to the side, but there was little help there. The windigo also seemed to be struggling.

"I... think I remember this. From my time in the northern castle. I used to be locked up with an older pony there... he did a lot of this stuff. He called it double-entry bookkeeping," Snowy mumbled, holding her head crooked and to the side. "This is way more complex than what I can remember, though. I don't know any of these categories!"

You're still ways ahead of me, Lyra flashed a smirk, then gave the paper back to Luna.

"With all due respect, your Highness... this looks like accounting stuff. I'm a musician - I have no idea what I should be looking at."

Luna nodded and placed the paper back into the binder. She didn't hurry, and her slowness seemed doubly annoying with the complete silence. There was nothing to make a sound; the thick walls of the room ensured that no noise filtered in, and Luna had ordered all the soldiers to wait outside.

Nothing better to do, Lyra surveyed the room again. It was a waste of time; there were no additional details to notice. The room was fairly small and absolutely spartan, old cobblestone walls with some torches hanging here and there. Decoration was inexistent; some empty drawers and three tables were the sole contents of the room. For all intents and purposes, it looked like a cell - one that had gone unused for too long, and finally found itself converted into some sort of a storage area.

Lyra gulped nervously. She didn't particularly relish the idea of having a talk with Princess Luna in such a place; the choice of location sent a rather foreboding message.

"These are the accounts of the Golden Oak," Luna spoke up. The end of her sentence was punctuated by a loud bang - the binder slamming closed. "We were hoping that you would understand on your own, but we now see that we do need to explain."

Why are you so hung up on that library? There's one pony missing, boo-hoo! What about the changelings? Why is no-one looking into how they almost wiped out a WHOLE BUCKING TOWN?! Lyra pulled a face, then quickly dropped her gaze to the floor, before the princess could notice.

Careful, girl. This alicorn IS the second highest authority in Equestria, she quickly chided herself.

"I would be pleased if you did, Highness," she lied through her teeth.

"Accounting is a fairly precise business. Every record must be properly maintained... because if not, if there are mistakes made? Then the numbers will fail to add up." Luna pushed the binder away, to the farthest corner of the table. "In this case, the Golden Oak's credits and debits do not match. We first wondered if this was a mere oversight, but these errors are too consistent for a naive mistake. However, the differences are way too small to justify a forgery. Nopony would risk a crime for such measly amount of bits."

Glancing up, Lyra's heart turned to stone. Luna's explanation left her completely cold - it was the image she had issues with.

Snowy was standing right next to Luna, studying the alicorn so close that the windigo's nose practically touched the alicorn's face.

"She's pretty smart... and pretty pretty, too." Snowy mused out loud, then dug her nose into Luna's mane. "Hmm... I wonder what makes her sparkle?"

Watching without being able to as much as breathe, Lyra gave a silent thank to every imaginary and non-imaginary God she could suddenly recall, simultaneously deciding to visit temples more often. It was an incredible stroke of luck that Luna couldn't sense servants. Were she able to, Snowy would have just awarded her master a long prison sentence-

Her mouth curling to a small but amused grin, Lyra watched Snowy dig her whole head into Luna's mane.

Aside from giving her the cold shiver, that scene was as good as any confirmation could get.

There's no way Luna would let anypony get away with that... not even servants.

It was just a hunch before, but she now felt confident that Luna wasn't a master.

"We shall spare you the details... but there is one important fact you should be clear on. The discrepancies in the ledger are for a fairly small, but monthly recurring expense - in the liability accounts." Luna kept on explaining, her tone as the dry as her topic of choice. "The gist is that there has been a pony at the Golden Oak's payroll. A pony who is now missing. Or rather... has been missing for almost three years, somehow." 

The last sentence was interesting enough to get Lyra's attention back to the discussion.

"Three years?" Lyra raised her head, making an utterly surprised face. "You mean, the Golden Oak had a phantom employee for three whole years?"

"The older ledgers do not show any errors," Luna raised her eyebrows. "The numbers do not lie. This case started three years ago."

Tsk. Lyra licked her lips. Didn't think that erasing Twilight from everywhere would trip other records. Should've asked Discord to fix those, too...

Though then again, fixing those records might have necessitated changing even more things in turn.

Why is changing ANYTHING so darned difficult in this world?! Lyra fumed, taking a deep breath to gain time to calm down. Okay, let's see. They have no proof that I'm involved, right?

"I don't see how this connects to me," she declared. "I went to the Golden Oak maybe once or twice in my entire life."

"But you still were there. You borrowed maps of Canterlot, for example." Luna nodded, confirming that the soldiers did, indeed, search Lyra's home. "Also, we fail to see why you needed to borrow those papers at midnight. Could you be as kind as to explain?"

"Midnight...?" Lyra blinked.

"A few ponies saw you exit from the Golden Oak a little after midnight, earlier this week." Luna narrowed her eyes, then motioned at the binder. "Would the exact date make any difference? Would you prefer us to drag this out and find the testimony?"

Struggling to keep her calm face, Lyra gulped as silently as she could.

Witnesses... somepony saw me? There were ponies staring at the library that late?

It seemed so unlikely that anypony could have been watching her. Unless-

Unless those testimonies are forgeries... or those ponies were woken up.

Either way, Lyra held no illusion that she had been set up. The question was whether Celestia or the Source was trying to land her in jail - but as she considered both her enemies, it was more of an academic curiosity than anything making a practical difference.

"I had a tight schedule and I needed those maps urgently." Lyra flexed her muscles, trying to keep her face as straight as possible. "I don't see how it's a big deal, though. Or are you questioning everypony who visited the Golden Oak in the last three years?"

That question made Luna chuckle; the first time she showed anything other than factual indifference. It was unusual enough to make Snowy take a few steps back and stare at the princess with puzzled face.

"We have reasons to believe that the former librarian was the student of our dearest Sister," Luna squinted at Lyra. She didn't openly say, but her thoughts on the matter were clear: she was already talking to a suspect. "Those two exchanged mails... how shall we put it? With extremely high regularity. One almost every day."

Nodding hesitantly, Lyra immediately saw where that was going to lead.

Frig! I had no idea about those mails either.

"Now, those mails seems to have become damaged." Luna narrowed her eyes, as if the additional facts pushed her suspect even further into a corner. "But more interestingly, they ceased coming for some reason. We could check when the last one arrived... but we trust you to already understand the point we are trying to make."

"I had nothing against the librarian," Lyra smirked dryly, pulling the best poker face she ever had ever done. "Why would have I done anything to her?"

"Her?" Luna echoed the word, her expression turning openly anticipating. "Curious... we had no idea of the gender so far. Would you happen to know anything else, perchance?"

Blinking as her mind screamed in terror, Lyra was pretty sure that she had just sent her own self to jail for a long, long time. Her mouth felt dry and she could feel herself sweating. Even time itself seemed to slow down - she thought she could see every individual breath Luna was taking.

Which was all fine and well, because she needed time to devise some way to salvage the situation. A pretty hard task, given the glaring error she had just made. If only she could take that sentence back!

If only...

She glanced at the windigo and felt the gears in her head snap back in place.

"I didn't say anything," she exclaimed, just now noting that her lips were trembling. "The last sentence... simply didn't happen."

"What-" Luna squinted, the rest of her sentence lost for eternity. Snowy flashed in a bright in the next moment, and the alicorn could only blink - silent and apparently confused.

"I only ever talked to Spike in that library," Lyra took up the thread from a few moments earlier. "That's... not really useful, is it? I'm really sorry."

"No, it is... ugh. What is this... we have the feeling we are forgetting something." Luna rubbed her forehead. She then yanked the binder from the table and stormed out of the room. "Excuse us, but we need to check on something. We are certain that we are forgetting something, and these tasks do not permit such failures."

"As you wish, Highness!" Lyra waved at the alicorn - and kept waving right until the door closed shut.

Then she sighed out loud and collapsed to the floor.

"That was close," she whined, her legs spread out wide. "I thought I was finished for a second."

Snowy stared at the door where the alicorn had left and rubbed the top of her head.

"She left very fast," she cocked her head to the side. "Isn't that odd? Most ponies only get confused when I use my powers."

Staring at the old, mouldy ceiling above, Lyra hummed thoughtfully.

"True. I wonder if we managed to scare her somehow."

Not sure if scaring a princess is a good idea, she squinted and placed a hoof against her head. Then again, I'll meet Celestia a lot sooner if Luna refuses to talk to me. That's progress, isn't it?

Wrinkling her eyebrows, she couldn't help but feel wary at such definitions of progress. She would be closer to attaining her goal for sure, but... she couldn't bring herself to like the method of doing so.

"Well, I suppose only time will tell," Snowy sighed and turned to her master with an obviously forced grin. "But, at least Master didn't get thrown into a cell this time-"

She was cut off by the door bursting open. Soldiers streamed in - the same Guards which Luna had ordered to stay outside a little while ago.

Lyra sprang onto her hooves. She was fast, but she only managed to stand up just in time to see three spears being held ten inches from her head.

I'm getting on the pointy end of these things like, WAY TOO OFTEN lately, she noted with some degree of resignation.

A few of the thirty-something troopers began moving around, clearing a way so a peculiar Guard could pace forward. Taking a glance at the small corridor, Lyra noted the stocky stallion approaching her.

So it's the small boss who gets to talk to me, she chuckled dryly. Guess I'm no longer important enough to talk to princesses, huh?

"Lyra Heartstrings." The stallion cleared his throat and held his head high. "You are now under arrest. The charges are foalnapping, murder, conspiracy against Equestria... and failing to submit tax forms on time. You have the right to remain silent; everything you say may be used against you in the court."

Glaring at the spears pointed at her, Lyra decided to make use of that right. She snorted loudly and shook her head.





As it turned out, even prisons could have their rating levels. A room with a measly doss and a smelly mattress, also a small window with lots of bars and a limited look to the outside; three stars, would maybe revisit on a harsh winter day.

A room with cobblestone walls, with a magical lantern and... well nothing else: one star. Maybe a half. Avoid at all costs.

Sitting on the hay that covered the entire floor, Lyra surveyed her newest - half star - cell with absolute contempt. She had no idea that such places actually existed in Canterlot - or in the entirety of Equestria, for that matter.

The cell was dark... very dark. There were no windows; it wouldn't have been possible to make one in the first place, as the room was many levels below the surface. The magical lantern hanging in the centre provided all the meagre light. It wasn't much - and that little light was almost completely drowned out by the serious overdose of black.

Everything around Lyra was black.

The walls, the floor and even the ceiling were all made from the same volcanic rock. A sensible material for sure; it looked rigid and sturdy. But surrounding Lyra on all sides, the black rock also proved incredibly oppressive. The room was fairly small to begin with - three by three metres or so - but this design-induced darkness made it feel even more claustrophobic.

Glaring at the black-painted door, Lyra wondered how much longer she could languish in there and still remain sane.

"This isn't simply keeping me bottled up," she moaned and bumped her hoof against the wall behind her. "This is torture, that's what this is."

Freaking Sunbutt. The more I deal with her... and I haven't even met her yet! Ugh.

"Aren't those charges valid, though?"

Turning her head sideways, Lyra gave the windigo a tired glance.

"Oh come on. Conspiring against state? Murder? They are literally throwing everything at me. I'm surprised I wasn't charged with some other heavy stuff... like, uh, I don't know. Trying to end the world?"

Snowy didn't seem satisfied with the satiric comeback. Her blue figure almost shimmering in the gloomy environment, she turned her red eyes towards the ceiling, prodding her chin up with a hoof.

"Master did make Twilight Sparkle disappear, though. That's already between foalnapping and murder, depending whether the new personality is Twilight or not." The windigo mused out loud. "And well, we did do that to make the Princess easier to take down."

"Nonsense," Lyra chuckled wryly. "They wouldn't know-"

Faltering away, she realised that Snowy did make a legitimate point. Accidentally or not, the charges were quite appropiate.

"That's impossible," Lyra rubbed her sore forehead. "Nopony knows about Twilight. Nopony could!"

Her back against the damp stones, Lyra was certain that the charges were made up. Nopony could have known the truth - not even the princesses themselves.

"Pinkie knows," Snowy cocked her head to the side.

"She wouldn't sell us out," Lyra rejected the idea with a wave of her hoof. "If that was her plan, she would have done so before we bleached Twilight's head clean."

"True," Snowy smirked and moved her hoof to rubbing the back of her head. "What about Discord?"

"Eh? What about him?" Lyra squinted at the windigo. "How does he-"

She bit onto her tongue.

"He's privy to all details... or at least to enough details to figure everything out," Snowy sighed. "Couldn't have he...?"

Rubbing her chin, Lyra shook her head vigorously.

"After their history, I doubt he'd help Celestia," she worked the gears in her head. "Though then again, he is the element of chaos... so acting in line with ponies' expectations wouldn't really be his thing either."

She fell silent and simply kept rubbing her chin. It was at that time she had noticed how silent her cell really was. Silent and dark... almost like a bad dream. One where she floated in an endless void, lost and completely alone.

Totally built to punish prisoners instead of simply making them stay put, Lyra sighed and slumped onto the hay-littered floor.

In the end, it didn't matter who had tipped Celestia off - or whether she had known anything in the first place. The validity of the charges didn't matter either. All that mattered is that she was in Canterlot, and would meet the princess sooner or later.

"Ugh. Can't wait to be out of this dump already," Lyra muttered, her face resting in the damp, smelly hay.





There was one thing nopony had ever mentioned about prison.

It's not like many could have. Few talked about prisons, as very few had ever seen one from the inside; in a land where getting slapped on the face was among the meaner punishments, getting sentenced for actual jail-time was something of an achievement.

And, most often, those who had managed such achievements didn't stop there either. They kept advancing their careers until they reached greater heights, such as being exiled to Everfree Forest, or to the Moon - or to Tartarus, depending on mood and age.

As such, prisons rapidly became a curious relic of history. Most only knew of them from movies and books, learning just enough to know they wouldn't want to wind up in one. Small cells, lousy service and isolation; nothing good awaited those locked away in there.

Sitting on the smelly hay and glaring at the ceiling as the damp rocks kept dripping water on her, Lyra Heartstrings quickly realised a very irritating aspect of her confinement.

She had lost the track of time.

Stuck in a sound-proof cell complete with an ever-constant source of light and no windows to look at, she had no idea how long she had been languishing in there. She had tried to do rough estimates based on when the Guards brought her food, but even that plan failed quickly: either because of devious planning or sheer carelessness, the troopers seemed to arrive at random intervals. At first Lyra thought it was just her confused sense of time, but evidence kept piling up; sometimes she would starve between two meals, while other times she wasn't even hungry when the next plate was put in front of her.

It wasn't before long that she had resigned herself to obliviousness. So what if she had no idea how long she had been in there? Big deal. She would get out eventually, and that was what mattered.

...or so she had thought at first. But as her time in solitary confinement grew longer, she started considering - and later, dreading - the possibility of never getting out.

"Surely they can't just simply lock somepony away," she mused out loud. She didn't mean to; but after so much time spent alone, even listening to her own voice was refreshing. It was better than the never-ending silence.

The windigo in front of her turned around and looked at her, the ghostly head cocked to the left.

Thank Equestria you're here, Lyra grinned lightly. I would have really gone mad if not for your company.

"Well, is there any authority higher than that of a princess?" Snowy raised her eyebrows. "I don't want to sound alarming, but I've been thinking on the subject, aaand... I arrived to some troubling conclusions."

Even the half-hearted grin vanished from Lyra's face. She wasn't so keen on listening to even more bad news - but her desire to talk to somepony had easily triumphed over her need to remain positive.

"Not even a princess can keep us in here forever, Snowy." Lyra sighed, delivering an absent-minded kick with her leg. Her hoof scraped along the cobblestone floor, throwing wet hay into the air. "I mean, yeah, they have a lot of power... but not this much power. They can't do this."

"So Master says, but I distinctly remember reading about Luna being banished... to the Moon of all places," Snowy smirked dryly. "There wasn't any trial either."

Lyra bobbed her head back and forth. Indeed, she had thought of that accident quite a few times herself. She had always found the analogy to be severely lacking, though.

"Luna had attacked Celestia that night," she explained - and shuddered, as a particularly large droplet landed on her back. "Gah! Anyway, don't read too much into that story. It was really just combat to life and death. Decisions come easily in such tight spots."

"So claims Her Highness Sunbutt as well," Snowy shook her head with a grim grin. "But even in that case, how do we know that ours isn't a life and death struggle? There may be many ways to interpret an attempt to steal servants... but in the end, most would consider it a hostile manoeuvre."

"Celestia doesn't know about our plan though," Lyra snorted loudly, then kicked at the hay again. "Had she known about us, we would be on the Moon already... or in Tartarus."

"But she needs the other servants to win the game! Me included." Snowy spread her front legs wide in the air. "Surely keeping me - or rather: us! - locked away within Canterlot is a more secure plan than keeping me on the Moon."

Glaring at the windigo over her back, Lyra was forced to admit that the possibility hadn't crossed her mind. She had always approached her predicament in more down-to-Equestria fashion.

"Even so, I doubt that keeping us inside her Palace is the best idea she could come up with," she threw herself to the ground with a grunt. "We're smack in the middle of Canterlot, Snowy. It'd be an outrage if ponies learnt that their beloved princess imprisoned ponies for life... just because she felt like it."

Contrary to Lyra's expectations, her servant wasn't swayed by the argument.

"That's a pretty big if." Snowy pointed out with a frown. "First of all, I doubt that anypony would know of Master being kept here... with the exception of a few guards. Maybe not even Princess Luna knows. We have no idea what sort of lies Princess Sunbutt could have told her!"

Lyra remained unmoved.

"Don't worry so much. Ponies know - and ponies talk. They always do. Word will get out eventually. Sooner... or later."

"Assuming that none of Sunbutt's servants are able to modify memories," Snowy gave a sombre smile. "In which case suppressing the leak would be trivial."

Lying on the floor, Lyra found herself looking for her jaw. She had completely overlooked that aspect - and in hindsight, this felt like a pretty dumb mistake. She had allowed herself to be put into a trap, all in the vague hope that she'd get to confront Celestia easier this way.

Only, now all Celestia had to do was wait. Lyra knew she wouldn't last forever in that cell; she would either go crazy or develop some illness. Being kept in a small, sunless room obviously wasn't good for the health.

She stared at the door and contemplated banging on it - screaming loudly, demanding to be set free, or at the very least to be granted an audience. Foolish notions, all of them. Nopony would hear her out; and nopony would comply with her demands either. Only the Palace Guard was allowed near her cell, and those colts were all loyal to a fault. They would take the word of a Princess over a commoner's any time of the day.

No, Lyra was stuck in the cell - like a rat in a sprung trap.

"I could make the guards forget about me," she wondered out loud, panting and licking her dry lips. "Just when they bring the food, yes. Then I could walk out the open door."

"Master would still be stuck in Canterlot, though." Snowy sighed dejectedly. "No matter how much we erased, Princess Sunbutt's servants would always remember Master. And with the Princess after Master, the Guard would be always be on Master's trail, too. I mean, we could keep continously erasing the orders from their minds, but... after a while, even Master would forget everything, so..."

Nodding silently, Lyra rolled to her side and cackled - loudly and with an utterly hollow tone.

Ain't I one bloody genius.





Loud clacks rang out.

Resting on the top of the haphazardly gathered hay, Lyra didn't pay the noise too much attention. The door didn't even open yet, but she already knew what was in store for her; another soldier would waltz in, bringing some more tasteless food. The colt would throw the plate on the floor - always keeping his eyes on her, of course - and then hastily back out of the cell, finally slamming the door closed behind him. Then he would return a little while afterwards and take the plate away.

Those soldiers, while apparently brave, were never alone either. Lyra had tried peeking a few times, and she did see more soldiers standing with their pikes at the ready, just a little beyond the open doorway.

She may have been a helpless prisoner, but her 'fame' as a dangerous witch still endured. While the fact did little to placate her ire, she did feel a tinge of vindication.

The door creaked and finally began tilting, light filtering in through the widening gap. Lyra rose her hoof to block the intense shine out; she may have longed for the sun, but she didn't enjoy her eyes burning and watering.

Then, once the door fell silent, she heard hooves clapping on the cobblestone floor.

Clap, clap, clap... 

And then the show began deviating from the usual.

"Are you sure you want us to close the door behind you?"

Even that ordinary sentence was enough to fire Lyra up. Her ears perked and she hopped off the hay, twisting her head with a curious expression on her face. She hadn't heard a pony talk for so very long...

"I mean, we'll stick around on the other side... but this thing is heavy, see? It takes a while to open. Should anything happen in there, you can bang away as much as you want, we won't be able to rush in in a hurry."

But of course, Lyra smirked to herself, holding her leg so it blocked out most of the light. You're entering a monster's den, interloper.

No, she wasn't bitter. Not at all.

"Oh, I'll be fine. Besides what's she gonna do, turn me into a newt? Hahah!"

The giggling, almost foalish laughter stunned Lyra. She recalled the voice from earlier - almost as if she was remembering a previous life of hers.

"Pfft, whatever you say. Go on in, then! But don't blame me if you don't come out."

"What, you saying I might like it so much in there?"

Cocking her head to the side, Lyra was pretty sure that voice belonged to-

-to the pink pony who had just stumbled into the small cell.

"Pinkie...!" Lyra whispered, her words drenched out by the loud creaking of the door closing.

"Whoa," Pinkie looked around in the dank cell, then rubbed her nose. "This place stinks! Why did they even think I'd stay in here?!"

Standing in silence, Lyra slowly pressed her hoof against her forehead.

Somepony please save me from the pony who came to save me.





"Three months?" Lyra giggled in disbelief, her head shaking. "Three months..."

"Yeah, more or less. I really thought you simply dropped off the face of Equestria," Pinkie nodded. She and Lyra were sitting in the middle of the room, almost directly underneath the magical lantern. "You'd be surprised how few ponies know about you, by the way! It took some favours, metric tons of sweets... and some of Rarity's old connections to find you."

"Rarity," Lyra muttered aloofly. That was a name she hadn't heard in a while. "How's she doing?"

"She's fine," Pinkie waved a hoof. "She's less about dresses and more about gemstones lately, though. She was talking about trying some new waters, you see. That little mishap with the dresses had left some bad taste in her mouth, I guess."

Lyra nodded with a sour face. So not a full blown tragedy, but not a happy ending either.

"I did that to her," she murmured to herself. "If not for my meddling, she would be still running the Carousel..."

She snapped out of her stupor on short order. She shuddered and moved her eyes to Pinkie, then flashed a sour smirk.

"You know, I'm still surprised that you're helping me. After all the things I've done..."

"You know, I'm still surprised how much you can worry about things that turned out all right in the end. Though then again, you're missing all sorts of context, only stumbling around blindly... like me whenever I try navigating by map." Pinkie whistled all innocent-like.

"You're saying I'm stupid," Lyra drooped her head.

"Sure you are!" Pinkie patted the other pony on the head. "But that's okay. It's normal, even! You have the only servant who has no idea about the history of this game."

Her head bobbing up and down as the pink hoof pushed it, Lyra sneaked a glance at Snowy. The windigo looked as puzzled as she felt; so they both stared at the pink figure.

"History...?"

She had heard foreboding mentions before, but she had never learnt any of the game's actual history so far. She had never really cared either - she didn't think that events of past times long-gone could have affected her.

"Yeah. You know, all the mistakes the previous masters have made," Pinkie glanced at the lantern, holding a hoof to her chin. "You're hardly the first master to be stupid, you see. And to be fair, the others made mistakes for stuff far less worthwhile than your goals. Aaaand... they kinda wrecked and ruined more than you have, too. Or so Axiom has told me."

Forcing a smile onto her sombre expression, Lyra couldn't help but notice how the spider was missing.

He really doesn't want to be in the same room as Snowy is, huh.

"It's not a contest, though." She shook her head, focusing on what Pinkie said instead of wondering about the spider-servant.

"Of course it is, stupid!" Pinkie giggled. "Games are always about competition!"

Glaring at the pink pony in utter exasperation, Lyra wondered on the ways she could explain how causing collateral damage was not the point of the game. She kept wondering for so long that she remembered of the Source, and quickly became unsure whether the whole game was just a mean - and deadly - prank or not.

She then gave up on the whole point altogether - before her worldview fell out of its axis.

"Doesn't seem like I'm doing such a good job at this competition thing though," Lyra snickered, drawing an arc with her hoof in the air. "Got myself stuck in this place."

"Yeah. Looks like you're gonna' need to roll a six, or you'll be missing a few more turns." Pinkie nodded, then threw a wink at Lyra. "Unless we rig the game, if you get what I'm saying."

"Thought about that one already," Lyra dismissed the idea right away. She did think about cheating - many times, in fact. She had even tried to summon to Source to her aid once, but nothing happened; the game master had either given up on her, or was interested in seeing how she could escape her predicament. "No dice."

"Not with that attitude," Pinkie frowned. "C'me on, there's surely something you can do. I mean, be creative! Like when I used pepper when the cinnamon ran out!"

"You WHAT!?" Lyra blinked, then shook her head. "Never mind that! I don't even know why I'm being held in here, so I can't really think of anything to get myself free."

"Well, when you can't poke the piece of eggshell out, you just flush the whole dish down the drain," Pinkie shrugged. "It's wasteful, but it still beats serving a... tee-hee, crunchy cake, right?"

"Yeah, because turning myself into an amnesiac wreck is such a great idea." Lyra rolled her eyes. She had thought about that one too - and was immediately reminded of how Twilight looked when she was reset to zero. It wasn't a nice sight; it had always made Lyra shudder, in fact. "Besides, even if I had done that, the servants and the paperwork would both remain. More than enough to keep me in here - especially when my jailer knows that I can tamper with memories."

"Teehee, you're being silly again." Pinkie giggled. It was a trait that quickly got on Lyra's nerves, but she knew better than to complain. "How would your jailer know that you can tamper with memories... after she forgot everything about you?"

Blinking with a glassy gaze, Lyra slowly turned to Snowy. Master and servant then blinked at each other, neither of them seeming to know how that hadn't occured to them; then they both turned back to the pink baker.

"The servants could still alert the princess," Snowy pointed out. "She has multiple ones too, doesn't she?"

"Even servants can be made to forget," Pinkie grinned deviously.

"Discord?" Lyra squinted, already worried about that answer. "How would you make him listen to you, though? I mean, you don't have a Geis scroll with you... or anything else that'd interest him."

"He spent the last thousand years in stone. Surely the best baker in Equestria could whip up something that'd catch his fancy... even he likes eating, right?" Pinkie declared with utter pride, her legs folded on her chest. "That and, well... I'm pretty sure I'd only need to mention that it was Celestia who jailed you."

Wrinkling her eyebrows, Lyra nodded slowly, contemplating. It sounded such a reasonable and thought-out plan that she doubted she was talking to the crazy baker.

"What of the papers?" Snowy asked again. "Could you make Discord make Master's name disappear from everywhere, as well?"

It was Pinkie's turn to hum. She mused for a few moments, rubbing her chin with a hoof.

"Would there be a need to, actually?" she finally asked, her blue eyes focused on the windigo. "After the stunt with Twilight, I bet that no princess would be trusting of any written document. I mean, Celestia wasn't quite that formal to begin with. Try imagining her after you've rendered her collection of letters junk! Besides..."

That tacked-on word caught Lyra's interest.

"Besides?"

Scratching her nose with the hoof, Pinkie moved her eyes to the cyan unicorn.

"Besides, I think I know someone who could... convince the princesses to not trust papers."

"Hahaha, really now? You, a simple baker would-" Lyra broke into a loud laughter - one which she regretted almost right away. "Ah - sorry. I mean-"

"Well, I'll have you know that I make the best cakes in all Equestria!" Pinkie declared, pointing her hoof at Lyra. "What makes you think that I couldn't make use of that fact, huh?! DO YOU UNDERESTIMATE CAKES THAT MUCH?! Even Celestia eats cakes regularly, didn't you know?! CAKES DRIVE EQUESTRIA! ALL HAIL THE CAKE!"

"All... hail..." Lyra mumbled, completely taken aback.

That faltering, half-hearted whisper was enough to placate Pinkie.

"Good! And now that we're clear on that, let's discuss ZE PLAN!" she winked at Lyra, and began fiddling with her mane.

Okay! I've definitely gone insane, Lyra thought as she saw the pink pony pull a tiny, furled up scroll from her curly hair.





"Thanks, sarge!" Pinkie giggled to the soldier as she left the cell.

"It's corporal, actually..." the soldier pointed to the badge on his armour.

"Details!" Pinkie shrugged and hopped onwards, ignoring the tired sigh the soldier made. She had other things to concern herself with; such as the big spider which crept out from behind an archway.

"Took ya' long enough, Boss." Axiom greeted her with the same tired frown he produced two dozen times every day. "What the heck happened in there? Did ya' two exchange life stories or somethin'?"

"As if life stories could take that long!" Pinkie giggled in a hushed tone. "Don't be a silly spider now."

"I ain't havin' no idea, Boss." Axiom folded his front two legs under his head, using his other six to scurry next to his bouncing master. "I still have no clue why'd ya' make them guards think they saw Celestia orderin' 'em to let ya' in. Couldn't have ya', I dunno', asked her for real? Ain't ya' two buds or somethin'?"

"Tee-heee!" Pinkie winked at the spider. "Do you want me to ruin the surprise? Everypony hates spoilers, you know."

She took the next to the right, heading back to the palace gate, going back the way she came; but a very unexpected guest made her stop at next intersection.

Staring so hard her eyeballs threatened popping out of their sockets, Pinkie Pie could only watch in silence as Discord gave her a deep, theatrical bow.

"D'awww. So spooked! You look as if you've seen a demigod," the draconequus chuckled and righted the red handkerchief in the top pocket of his black suit. "Or is it my attire? Should I've picked something more... casual?"

A flick of his fingers and Discord's black suit turned into a torn-worn shirt, complete with a haphazard rendition of a beach.

"Totally blending in," the draconequus extended his arms, cracking his claws and chubby fingers.

The shirt did do a fine job of breaking the spell that bound Pinkie's mind still.

"How...?" she mumbled and cocked her head to the side.

"Well, I kinda' got bored while ya' were chattin' in the cell, Boss. So I've started wanderin' around... and I kinda bumped into him," Axiom scratched his head. He sounded a little unsure - he was really careful to retell the story in a way that no blame could fall on him. "I figured I might as well told 'im that you wanted to meet 'im. Spares us the time of looking 'im up, nope?"

"You could have mentioned that on our way here!" Pinkie glared at the spider.

"Couldda' sworn nopony liked spoilers," Axiom rolled his many eyes.

Biting onto her lip, Pinkie conceded that round with a bob of her head... then she turned her gaze to the draconequus.

"So what are YOU doing here?" 

"Oh, nothing much... just the usual. You know, hiding, eavesdropping, freaking out a random soldier and being content knowing that no-one would believe him," Discord waved his chubby paw. "I mean, what are the chances I would be stupid enough to hide in the palace itself?"

"Pretty good, it seems." Pinkie noted dryly - and immediately returned to her usual smiling persona. "Listen, would you fancy a deal?"

"A deal. I'm sorry... but are you nuts?" Discord wrinkled his eyebrows and leaned forward. "The would-be destroyer of the world pops up in front of you... and the first thing you do is propose him a deal?!"

Both Pinkie and her servant nodded in complete unison; it was a response that left Discord quite disillusioned.

"You're not even freaking out! What in Gods' name did 'Tia do to my reputation?!" he smacked himself over the head, then smeared his paw down his face. "Bah! Fine. A deal... what kind of a deal do you want?"

"A sweet kind of a deal!" Pinkie grinned in her amusement, trying to pipe the excited giggling down. "Say... how long has it been since you had cake?"





"Is it time yet?"

Her back to the damp rocks and listening to her ragged breathing, Lyra nodded slowly and completely absent-mindedly.

How was she supposed to know?

"I have no idea," she mumbled with another nod. She was completely on autopilot and had difficulties getting her bodily faculties under control. There was too much to consider, too much to worry about. It was all too much.

It was like carrying a whole hill on her back. She could almost hear her back cracking.

"Miss Pinkie said that she would be ready in about two days' time," Snowy stared at the closed door. "We can't be too early or too late. It is imperative that Master is-"

"I'll know when it's time," Lyra muttered and gave her face a rub. Her hooves smelled of rotting hay, but she didn't mind. All the time she had spent locked up in the cell had desensitized her to the putrid smell.

"IF everything works as intended," Snowy turned to the numb unicorn. "Miss Pinkie will order Axiom to make Master, uh... remember when it's time, right?"

"That was the plan," Lyra dropped her nose to the ground, the hair on the tip of her nose brushing against the damp hay.

The next thing she saw was a blue shade. Blinking in confusion, she spotted the windigo looking at her from a single step's distance. It was a surprise that she'd managed to sneak so close so perfectly - though then again, for a being who was effectively a ghost, that could be considered standard fare.

"Why does Master look worried, then?" Snowy purred like a cat - but her voice was coloured by worry instead of excitement.

Lyra stretched her legs and pushed her head up, moving her neck until her head was pushing against the wall behind. She flinched as a droplet landed directly on her face, just a little below her left eye.

"Because this... I had never imagined having to do this. That I'd have to resort to this," she mumbled, explaining to the windigo and to her own self at the same time. "Snowy, this is..."

She didn't go on. She closed her eyes instead and drew a deep breath, trying to calm her raging thoughts. She tried to understand, she really did - but she kept failing no matter how many times she tried. And that was the most frustrating part of the whole exercise.

To think that she, a pony who was supposed to change the whole world, a hero who was supposed to end so much suffering by ending this wicked game, a victim who was supposed to rebel with all her might... that she of all ponies was being held in a bind by the mere thought of putting herself at risk.

It was difficult to accept that her determination would be so shaky. That she would shirk away when she was putting her own self in harm's way.

Her lips flexing and pushing against each other, Lyra gulped deeply and steeled her face.

She decided that she hated that coward who lurked inside her.

"I will-" she spat the words out - then abandoned this sentence as well.

Her head felt funny for a moment. She thought she was being light-headed from the lack of meals - the Guard and their irregular timings were really eating into her stamina - but that worry went away moments later.

For some reason, she suddenly remembered - with exact clarity - that Pinkie had told her to give Snowy an order in this exact moment.

"Snowy," she turned to the side, giving the windigo a worried, yet excited grin. "We got the green light! Erase Lyra Heartstrings from everyone's memories... with the exception of Pinkie Pie."

The self-destructive order didn't make the windigo hesitate. No big surprise; Snowy was also aware of the plan, after all.

"Right away, Master," the windigo bowed, her figure flashing with a brilliant blue colour.

An intense headache seared through the unicorn's mind. She staggered and fell forward, crashing onto the damp hay with a dull thud. The small cell wobbled around her as she opened her eyes, the dizzying pain in her head numbing the other pains of her body. She didn't attempt to get up; she dragged a shaky hoof to her head and rubbed her temple, hoping that the light massage would ease the throbbing pain.

Then she caught sight of the blue ghost next to her.

"Sno... Snowy!" she mumbled, smiling at the ethereal figure. "We did it! We... uh, we..."

She paused and wrinkled her eyebrows.

"We..." she echoed again, her mind stuck on a pretty obvious detail that was supposed to be there - but was somehow missing. She turned her head a little, dragging some hay around, then finally mumbled the question that was on the fore of her mind.

"Who... Snowy, who am I?"
> 40 - Twisted
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"What is Master in jail for anyway?"

Blankly staring at the ceiling, the pony had no idea how to answer that one. She couldn't even fathom. She recalled bits and pieces, but the fragmented pictures didn't align. She was struggling with the leftover puzzle-pieces - after somepony had thrown most of the puzzle out the window.

"Why don't you stop the useless questions?" she rolled her eyes. A fat droplet landed on her forehead the next moment, and she cursed loudly. The quality of her cell was borderline torture. She faintly recalled a Guard wishing her 'much fun' in her 'top-notch apartment' as she was escorted inside - and while distant and faded, the memory still made her blood boil. That kind of humour didn't sit well with her. Not when her coat was damp and smelly from the all-permeating moist.

Focusing her thoughts elsewhere, she turned to the windigo and raised her eyebrows. 

"Why don't you tell me something that I should know?"

"Oh, I certainly would! ...but I seem to draw blanks only," Snowy lowered her head with an awkward smile, her ears plopping down to complete the image of defeat. "I'm afraid I may have overdone Master's order."

"Master's order... haha. My order," the unicorn made a face, shaking her head with a faint grin. "Master... master, master. Master. You know, it's weird to hear that title. Still, I'm quite glad you recall at least that much."

She didn't specify outright, but she was most thankful that she wasn't locked up with a windigo that didn't recognize her as some sort of authority. Stuck in a three-by-three metre cell with a deadly ice-demon, she wouldn't have lasted very long.

Smirking wryly, the unicorn pushed that stubborn worry away. She recalled Snowy; that windigo was more akin to an old dog than a dangerous ghost. She remembered the misadventure in the northern hills-

I've never been to those hills. It must have been the tale somepony else, the pony blinked with glassy eyes. Or... or maybe I simply don't remember?

"Once again, I am terribly sorry," Snowy bowed, lowering her head until her jaw sunk into the hay covering the floor. "Should I remember anything, I will immediately let Master know."

The unicorn stared at the brief display with a dejected face. Then she closed her eyes and put a hoof to her temple.

"Alrighty... stop taking it that hard. Master's order," she mumbled, stressing the word almost comically. "That reminds me. Could you stop calling me Master?"

"What else should I call you, then?" Snowy raised her eyebrows, the ruby-red eyes giving off an aura of expectation.

The sentence sending a jolt down her back, the pony yanked her head towards the ghost.

This conversation... I've had this conversation before! she stared silently, then shook her head wildly. Ah c'mon. What the heck do I know about the things I should know...

"I have no idea what you should call me," she said curtly, glancing away and burying her face into her hooves. Being so completely ignorant about her own self - that was what made her feel the most wretched. No matter how ugly her cell was, physical discomfort simply couldn't compare to that internal disarray.

"Then please bear with 'Master' for a while," Snowy made an apologetic grin, her translucent blue figure rising back to an upright stance. "So what do we do now?"

"Wait, I suppose?" the unicorn chuckled dryly, openly running her gaze down the walls of the cell. "What else could we do here?"

"Wait for... what, exactly?" Snowy cocked her head to the side. 

The answer came on its own. Something on the other side of the thick iron door began making a racket, clanging and banging, complemented after a while by indiscernible shouting.

The Guard, the pony realised and shifted forward, standing up.

The door opened with a loud creak. The harsh light assaulted the pony's eyes, but she forgot about the pain for that moment. She simply cocked her head to the side, staring dumbly, her mouth hanging wide open.

How did I know who would come? she mused - and indeed, an armoured soldier walked through the open doorway.





"Let us get clear on this," Princess Luna rubbed her forehead. She managed to come up with a fairly remarkable expression, appearing absolutely annoyed and perplexed at the same time. "This pony snuck into our prison, freed a prisoner... and then took her place?"

"S- something like that, your Highness," a trooper nodded, his forcibly calm tone mixed with a burst of nervous giggle. "I... I mean, that was the only conclusion we could reach. Records indicate that Lyra Heartstrings should have been in that cell... but we only found this mentally challenged pony inside."

Lyra Heartstrings, the words echoed inside the amnesiac unicorn's head. She was in a fairly generic room, one that resembled a storage area rather than a court room. Pieces of furniture were arranged at the walls, piled up in a random fashion, some of them covered by white cloths. A ring of three Royal Guards surrounded her; and the Princess of the Night of course, separated from the small group by about eight steps' distance. 

Lyra... why that name sounds so odd. Almost like... deja-vu. Huh.

"Lyra Heartstrings. Heart... strings," Luna repeated the name slowly, savouring it. Then she gave up on trying to remember, the exact moment marked by her head turning to the unimportant-looking grey pony behind her.

The grey mare behind the princess quickly snapped to attention. She didn't overstrain herself, though; she remained unmoved, adjusting her reading glasses with a blank expression on her face. Most interestingly, such lack of distinct features made her very recognizable: few were as boring as her.

Even the nameless prisoner could recognize Paradox, though she failed to recall where they got to knew each other. Though on a second thought, she was pretty sure that she wasn't supposed to know that servant. Somewhere, deep inside her conscious, she was absolutely certain that Princess Luna wasn't involved in the Game. Yet, at the same time... she saw the princess giving the servant a definite nod, a direct contradiction to her belief.

Well, I could be going crazy I suppose, the pony smiled wryly at her own plight. I swear, this friggin' amnesia...

"I can affirm I have no knowledge of this pony." Paradox spoke. Her speech was just like her whole being: slow, uninteresting and without a shred of emotion.

"What about me?" Snowy paced forward, eyeing the grey mare. "You wouldn't happen to remember me either, huh?"

"Look, Nix... or Snowy... or whatever you call yourself nowadays. Drop the act - it won't help you. At all." Paradox chastised the other ghost. Bereft of fire and passion however, the tirade sounded more like a recap. "I see you got a new host, though. That may matter."

"Master isn't new," Snowy sneaked a glance at the unicorn behind.

"Interesting that you would say that." Paradox shrugged and turned to the Princess. "At the same time: I know I don't recall that pony from before. She is important for obvious reasons, but..."

Luna hummed at the statement, holding a hoof to her chin as she dived into her thoughts.

"Uh... Princess?" one of the Guards barged into the conversation he couldn't sense taking place. "What do we do with this pony now?"

"She sneaked into the cell of Lyra Heartstrings," Luna sighed, dragging the hoof from her chin to the side of her head. She didn't seem very enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. Holding tribunal during the day was probably quite bothersome when one had to work through the nights as well. "Such a strange case... what was the original prisoner accused of?"

"Assault against a figure of high authority, murdering Ponyville's librarian, conspiring against Princess Celestia..." the Guard read from the paper that floated in front of him. "Oh! And being late on tax forms."

Staring as overtly as she could, the accused unicorn wrinkled her eyebrows at the charges. They didn't seem correct for some reason. She didn't believe herself to be capable of such heinous acts, for one. But even beyond that, there was something else... 

It was that strange sense of deja-vu again. She could have sworn the trooper misread that list! She recalled this very scene, but with the charges being slightly different.

She looked away and scratched her head.

What's going on here?

She must have sunk quite deep in those thoughts, because Luna was asking questions by the time she returned to her senses.

"Was that Lyra pony ever convicted on any of those charges?"

"Not according to the records, your Highness. The case was still ongoing," the Guard eyed the paper. "Actually, you were the one presiding over the caseeEEK!"

The soldier jumped away as the paper was torn from his magic, the white sheet zipping to Luna like an arrow. The magic of the Princess held the parchment in the air a few inches from her face, her teal eyes working through the barrage of text as if she was on a speed-reading contest.

"We do not recall anything such!" she finally thundered, slamming the paper to the floor and giving the unicorn a stern glare. "Just who ARE you, commoner?! What is this forgery?!"

"I- I have no idea!" the unicorn stammered. The furious gaze of the princess may have been technically harmless, but it was more than enough to make her legs quiver.

"Is this some misguided joke? Are you making fun of our justice system?!" Luna growled and turned back to her incorporeal accountant. Paradox gave her a silent nod in return, and focused her grey eyes on the prisoner.

While Princess' stare was bad, the gaze of Paradox elevated uneasiness to whole new dimensions. The unicorn shuddered under the weight of those grey pupils. She could feel her head ache and stomach turn. She held out as long as she could, but finally her legs buckled and she fell to the floor. The Guards around her didn't really comprehend what had happened to her. They must have assumed she simply felt sick, because they all looked away, their spears at the ready nevertheless.

The unicorn regarded that as an act of kindness. She wasn't certain why, but she was worried that they might stab her right on the spot.

"In my professional opinion: she's clean," Paradox announced without the slightest ounce of care for the ailing pony. "I found nothing relating to any of those charges. Though given that she parades around with this wretched windigo... I reckon she may have been rightly accused. Right now, however, she no longer can be kept in that cell. Not legally."

"This paper says we presided over the case... but we have no recollection of anypony by Lyra, nor Heartstrings," Luna exclaimed aloud, tearing the paper in half. "This is either a joke, a bad prank or a conspiracy against our public image."

"I told you I don't know anything!" the unicorn reiterated, pushing herself back on her hooves. "I don't even know who I am, for Celes-!"

She faltered. That phrase - for Celestia's sake - was pretty common in Equestria. She had used it countless times in her life, too; it rolled off her tongue quite readily. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to say it out loud.

Something in her had refused to make use of that name.

"If you wish to ask favours from us, you must pick a better approach than wasting our precious sleep-time," Luna growled and tossed the torn pieces of paper away. "Guards! Throw her out of the palace and make sure she does not come back for... let us say a month. Use that time to learn the proper etiquette for inquiries, commoner."





"...and stay OUT!" the Guard yelled before slamming the door shut.

The unicorn could not reply to that, for she was busy performing a landing with her face. Throw her out, was the order of the Princess; but in all honesty, the pony didn't expect the Guard to take the words so literally.

...at least on any other occasion, that is. This time? This time she'd had a hunch, and was more or less prepared for the outcome. It was as if she had seen how this scene would play out - the kick that sent her flying, the cobblestones of the street coming closer and closer to her face, the dull thud of the impact...

The landing didn't even hurt so much. It was practically nothing compared to her utter confusion.

"Ow..." she rubbed her face, moaning more out of habit than anything else. The strange precognitions weighed heavier on her mind, bugged her badly enough to make her burst into a loud shout. "What the heck is happening around here?!"

"Master, if I may..." Snowy interrupted her, the blue windigo lowering its head to the pony's level; to the very ground, in effect. "Is it really wise to make a scene just after being let out of prison?"

"There won't be a scene," the pony muttered. She jumped up, completely ignoring both the gathering crownd and the shuddering ghost as she yanked her head around wildly. "These ponies around don't matter. There will be a foal, looking for us... he's going to matter."

"Uh... what?" Snowy balked, her face twisted by bewildered. "Master, that's one highly unusual prophecy."

"That way," the pony mumbled and shot out, darting through the crowd, driven by a force even she couldn't explain.

She already knew what was bound to happen - because she had already been to that plaza once. She had suffered through this humiliation before already. But while comforted by her strange ability to see the rough outlines of the future, this weird gift kept pushing the same question to the pony's mind with more and more urgency.

WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME?!





It didn't take long to find the young foal who was looking for her.

"You!" the unicorn declared sternly, her raspy voice making a few bystanders back off in haste. By all looks, she was a way too unrefined for the fair folks of Canterlot.

How the heck do I even know what Canterlot is like! the pony seethed, venting her anger by glaring at the cowardly bunch retreating from her proximity. Did I use to live here or something? Among these spineless cowards?

Her anger wasn't long lasting, thankfully. She worked the disappointment out of her system on a short order, closing the topic with a wild roll of her eyes; then she returned her gaze to the foal, who was... taken aback by having a fully grown mare appear out of the blue and blare at him.

"You have a letter you need to deliver," the pony narrowed her eyes, pointing a hoof at the foal. "Give it to me."

"Whoa," Snowy gulped as she watched the foal cower to the ground. "I envy Master. Fresh out of prison, and such confidence already!"

Briefly glancing at the windigo, the unicorn scoffed at the notion. Her confidence was based on cold facts. She knew this pony was to deliver a mail to her; what was the harm in hurrying the issue along? The outcome was the same. She would be lead through Canterlot and wind up in a shady inn, where she would meet-

Buckling as pain rushed through her head, the unicorn gritted her teeth. No wonder her brain hurt! She had to endure the madness, make use of it... and doubt it, thinking on the matter at the same time. She couldn't simply brush off the discord between her thoughts and reality as if nothing strange was going on.

How could she know what she was to do, when the envelope was only floating in front of her face, still sealed and waiting to be opened..?

I didn't use to be a psychic, the unicorn furrowed her forehead. Something's not right... was I in prison for this? Am I an amnesiac because of this?

Grimacing to herself, she was fairly sure in her aim.

I need to get to the bottom of this.

She grabbed the letter greedily, tearing the wax yellow seal and pulling the letter into the open. The content and the material were at odds - the letter was made of the finest rice paper, yet the words looked hastily scribbled, as if made by a grade-schooler.


To our most likely unknowing ally,

If you are reading this letter, then know: we have succeeded. Twilight Sparkle is no more and the Great and Powerful took the position that was truly destined for her.
Of course, sacrifices were needed for righting fate on such scale.
You must be confused right now. That much is expected; as far as the world is concerned, you did nothing and nothing was changed either.
Only this letter proves otherwise.
Thusly, only the Great and Powerful knows what you did and what it cost you. Lucky for you, the greatest magician also knows how this damage can be undone.

Follow Snips. He was instructed to lead you to your salvation.

PS: know that the Great and Powerful never wrote such a letter. She never met you either.

To anypony else, it must have looked as if the unicorn broke the world record in speed-reading. She only took a passing glance and set the letter aside, staring with her mouth hanging wide-open. She knew the message just by looking. No, that wasn't right - she had known the message already. She was merely refreshing the memory.

This is mandess, the unicorn crunched the expensive letter and threw it away. Mad ponies don't imagine letters into reality, though. So this isn't just all in my head, right?

"Astounding," the foal mumbled in utter reverence. "The Great and Powerful told me to deliver the letter to a pony like you, precisely here and today. And 'lo, you came! Truly almighty she is, the chosen student of Celestia!"

Snorting with thinly veiled disdain, the unicorn wondered about that. She could have broken into a tirade about how Trixie employed a no-name hitpony to get Twilight Sparkle out of the way, weaselling herself into a position she could never reach - and, frankly, was never meant to have.

She kept her feelings bottled up and her mouth shut, however. Something told her that she wasn't supposed to be rash; that her fate was to nod and play along, following the foal into the thinner, darker, grittier streets of the capital.

She had to walk to the inn - she had to meet somepony there. An important pony.

"Yeah, yeah. All hail the Great and Powerful," the unicorn rolled her eyes, then turned her eyes to the foal. "Let's skip the rest of the pleasantries, m'kay? Just take me to where I need to be."





The shady alleys felt familiar. They were still oppressive and reeked of failed lives, of course. Thousands of sad tales; dreams that had run off their rails, winding up in deep ditches that nopony cared about.

Her hooves kicking up dirty water as she paced through the thin street, the unicorn made a face at the flaking walls. She wasn't irritated by the environment itself; she already knew what to expect, so seeing the 'other' face of Canterlot wasn't such a surprise to her.

It was this knowledge itself that bothered her.

As far as she could tell, she had never strayed from the glittery parts of the city. She had always kept a safe distance from the 'bad neighbourhoods'... so logically thinking, it was impossible for her to have first-hoof experiences about the unsavoury streets.

That didn't stop her from recognizing the more distinct landmarks, oddly enough.

I know that house, the unicorn squinted at a three-story building, then twisted her head around, just in time to see an aqua-blue house appear down the intersecting road. I've seen that one too. It must have looked wonderful when it was new! Heck, I bet all it'd need is a lick of paint and-

The pony shook her head and hastened her steps. She was running before she knew - but no matter how hard she pressed her hooves, she couldn't outrun the familiar streets or the troubling thoughts.

Stop thinking about houses, you idiot. You've got bigger problems than to be distracted by the scenery! You must get to the Four Happy Cadavers or else you'll never know-

She stopped so abruptly that not even her windigo could follow her motion. Snowy zipped past her, only realizing her mistake some ten steps later - and then backtracked with haste, getting back to the pony's side.

"Is there something wrong, Master?" the windigo asked with a curious gaze, her head cocked to the side. "Master was running down so fast, so to stop this suddenly... did Master hurt her legs? These cobblestones look hazardous. They are so dirty that Master could easily slip and sprain something."

The pony rejected the worry with a numb shake of her head. She did feel a bit light-headed, racing down the abandoned-looking streets... but no, physical issues had little to do with her condition.

She was shocked that she knew the name of her destination. The Inn to the Four Happy Cadavers - a run-down shack, situated in a house that seemed to teeter on the brink of collapse. It wasn't very far either - a further five minutes of walk or so.

But how do I know all that? the unicorn slammed a hoof against her temple. And if I knew that, why did I even need Snips to guide me there in the first place?! I could have walked there on my own. I could-

Raising her unsteady gaze back to the distant buildings from the grime-covered cobblestones, the pony realised what was amiss.

She was alone.

In her blind rush through the streets, she had left Snips behind at some point.

Considering everything logically, it didn't seem like a serious loss. She knew the way; she could get to the Four Happy Cadavers quite easily on her own. It just didn't seem right, arriving without her guide. For some reason, she wanted to follow Snips there... because it seemed like the proper thing to do.

I'm really going nuts, the pony cringed, shaking her head with a wry smile on her face. Hahaha, I'm totally going nuts! I bet that something went wrong while messing with my head... and now I've gone bonkers.

Be that as it may, she had little choice but to push onwards. She had nowhere else to go but to the inn.

"This way," she motioned to her servant and marched on.

"I've been wondering... Master seems to know this path rather well," Snowy scratched her head before following the pony. "Did Master frequent this place, or...?"

"Never been here!" the pony chuckled dryly, flashing a dry smirk as another familiar building appeared down the next corner. "I just have some wicked good intuition, that's all."





The sign looked about as worn as the building itself; they probably had their heyday about forty years ago. Probably under a different name as well: the paint on the sign looked garishly different in places. Whoever had made the repair had either no talent for the job or was running on a seriously short budget; the paint was of a completely different shade.

At least the newer, more wordy title covered a lot of the beleaguered sign. The unicorn acknowledged the words with a small grimace; that title should have worked better for scaring customers away instead of attracting them.

Seriously, who names a place the Inn of the Four Happy Cadavers?

Rubbing her grimy-dirty hoof against her face, the pony wondered how could have that name bugged her for a half an hour already. It was melting her brain, knowing she had never been there... and yet remembered the way she had argued with Snips, staring at that very sign.

The same Snips who was nowhere near at the very moment.

I wonder if this what it's like to see multiple realities, she chuckled grimly. Guess I'd make one pretty poor God, huh?

"I sure hope I never turn omniscient," she snickered and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thought - and also the sensation of her sticky, dirt-covered face.

"As things are standing, Master is more likely to turn unscient," Snowy sighed, then motioned at the door. "I suppose that we go inside now?"

"After this walk? You bet!" the unicorn said and kicked the door open.





The unicorn knew the inn from the inside as well. She blazed through the door, shoving it to the side with the force of a hurricane. Neither the dark interior, nor the disgusting, thick and oily smell deterred her; she knew the place and expected that sort of a welcome.

There was no reason to take offence or to feel afraid. That oppressive atmosphere was all that the inn had to offer.

She turned her head and gave a tiny nod to the gryphon behind the counter. The barkeep seemed confused, but didn't act on his suspicions even if he had any; he shrugged and returned to his work, polishing the shoddily washed drinking-glasses.

"That barkeep doesn't look happy to see us," Snowy mumbled as she hopped onto a table, doing everything to keep her place on her master's side. "Maybe we should go and say hello... before he mistakes us for ruffians."

"Yeah, good idea. Sure hope my language skills are up to scratch," the pony muttered under her breath, flashing a dark grin. The grin was immediately replaced by a pondering frown, though; she had no idea how she knew that the barkeep didn't speak equestrian. 

Stop getting confused, she grit her teeth and stepped towards the counter. I just need to tell him that I'm here to go down the trapdoor, and...

Sneaking a glance to the distant part of the shady inn, she instinctively recognised the small wooden panel. She had no idea how she knew it was there, but she shrugged the oddity off. The bizarre had finally reached such levels that she stopped fighting against it.

"Hola," she said dryly, setting a hoof onto the counter as if she were a regular.

The gryphon behind the counter wasn't impressed. He finished cleaning the glass first.

"Hola." He finally feigned a bored smirk, putting the glass down. "¿Qué quieres?"

The unicorn returned a similarly fake smile and cocked her head to the side.

"Entiendo," she glanced towards the trapdoor. "There's a pony waiting for me down there. Waiting? Waiting... er... esperar. Esperar! Invitada esperar, see? She's down there. Down there! Uhhh... abajo! Abajo allí."

The words, punctuated by some heavy gesticulation, seemed to make it across. The barkeep nodded slowly, his beak moving as if he was chewing on something.

"No hay problema," he mumbled, the feathers shifting on his forehead. "No dude en ir. Senoríta be waiting."

"Ohh - so you're actually a decent guy!" Snowy purred contently. "I mean, I have no idea what you're saying... but the tone sounds good, so I guess you check out. Right, Master?"

"Muchas gracias," the unicorn grinned to the gryphon and turned away from the counter. "Hop to it, Snowy. Let's not keep our guest waiting."

The space between two tables too narrow to let two walk side-by-side, the windigo hopped onto a table to keep her pace next to her master, her legs shifting among the half-empty bottles. The two of them cut through the rest of the inn without any fuss; the pony ignored the patrons, making small deviations from her straight path whenever she came too close to an occupied table. The patrons had no perception of the windigo, so they weren't bothered by the ghostly being waltzing across their tables - not even when the ghostly hooves occasionally trampled over their drinks.

The only issue they had on the way to the trapdoor was the sticky grease the unicorn's hoof had acquired. I wonder when was that counter was last cleaned, she pondered as she forced her hoof to come off from the ground. She had put that very hoof on the counter; the horseshoe, stained by the same sticky goo had also covered the counter, seemed to stick to the floor like the finest super-glue on each and every step now.

Even with the odd walk that a sticky hoof forced, the trapdoor wasn't that far away. The unicorn used her magic and pulled on the heavy, cast-iron ring, bringing the door up; then she hopped into the dark hole before the door slammed back in place, her cyan figure accompanied by a dark-blue ghost.

Even though the cellar wasn't too deep, the door still managed to close before the pony could land. The heavy wooden construct slammed shut with a resounding bang. The unicorn wasn't bothered by the extremely loud noise; she was preoccupied with making a splendid landing - on her back. Her sole luck was being soft enough to not rebound off the floor.

"Oh my sweet everything..." she gasped, winded and counting the green dots dancing in her vision.

"You should be more careful, Master!" Snowy landed next to her. Her incorporeal form weighing exactly nothing, the soft landing came easy to the windigo. "There was no need to jump - there were stairs available."

Squinting to her extreme left, the unicorn noticed the old and weathered stairs.

"Tell me earlier the next time," she coughed faintly and rolled to her side. Coughing and wheezing, she rose back to her wobbly hooves... and froze up as she saw her own self sitting five steps away from her, accompanied by a spider and a pink pony in a swivelling chair.

Though utterly surreal, she was certain that she was seeing her own self from the outside. The cyan coat, the lyra-shaped cutie mark... there was no mistake about it. There was no other pony like that.

And yet, there she was, watching that very unique existence from the outside.

"What the buck!" she muttered and crept closer. "Okay... somepony finally tell me what's going on here!"

No help came from the sources she had expected. The pink pony in the chair remained silent; her duplicate self kept staring with a vacant gaze; even her trusty - and babble-prone - windigo couldn't do more than gulp in surprise.

"Nothing special. Ya've simply caught up to the present," the spider turned to her, four of his eight yellow eyes still remaining on the other, similar unicorn. "Take yer seat where ya've taken yer' seat... guess 'am the first to welcome ya' to back to yer' own self, Lyra Heartstrings."





Silence followed. Only the fireplace crackled, the flames trying to fill the old cellar with a sense of warmth - and lots of smoke.

Sitting firmly on her rear, Lyra stared numbly out of her skull, utterly dumbstruck. She was in a different place - or rather, in the place she had originally occupied. She was sitting right next to spider, in the place where she had earlier seen herself to sit.

I'll never doubt out-of-body experiences ever again, she groaned and placed a hoof against her temple. Her mind was coping with bizarre experience at a snail's pace.

It couldn't be helped. It was strange, suddenly remembering so much about herself; doubly so because she still had her old memories too. She remembered being stuck in a smelly prison, completely unaware of herself or the machinations that had brought her there. The incredibly - almost mockingly - fast trial she had with Luna, where she was deemed an impostor taking the place of Lyra Heartstrings of all ponies. Then came her walk through the unsavoury part of Canterlot, one which ended at a run-down inn...

She made a sour grimace. She had duplicate memories of the events after Pinkie had left; that much was obvious. Only, those memories seemed to play out slightly differently. Some of the deviations were subtle, but she found others irreconcilable.

Right...  I erased all traces of myself to escape prison. And then Pinkie asked Discord to extend that forgetfulness to every servant, Lyra frowned, her skull tingling with all the fresh memories that had been crammed in there. The plan was freshly back, too. It was funny - to think she could forget about a plan she had accepted in such desperation. Then finally Axiom made me remember every memory I should have had. Guess he couldn't know if I forgot about the bits after he left me... so he made me remember everything that I remembered already.

She rubbed her hoof against her face.

Ugh... no wonder I feel like a wet rag.

"Can't believe that actually worked out..." she sighed out loud - once she had managed to find her voice. It didn't feel long to her, but it could have taken several minutes for all she knew.

"Is Master all right?" Snowy crept to her side, the windigo eyeing the pony with a worried expression. "Master sat down so suddenly, it was as if she collapsed!"

Squinting at the blue ghost, Lyra gave a numb nod for an answer.

That's right. Servants can't affect each other, she rubbed the side of her head. You didn't get any of these memories back...

It was hard to tell who got the shorter end of the stick, though. The one who had no recollection - or the one left with a bunch of conflicting ideas about all recent events.

So memories remade by Axiom are not that accurate, Lyra realised and chuckled sombrely. So much for returning to my old self, huh?

"Well, that concludes ZE PLAN," Pinkie placed her hooves together, still rolling around in the swivel-chair. "Hope you're satisfied, 'cause I ain't giving refunds!"

Lyra abandoned her musing about her own memories so she could give the pink pony a dry, humourless grin.

"Of course I'm happy. I am out of that cell," she cackled, faintly and wryly. She couldn't let one bothersome worry unaddressed, though. "But it's not like I could be anything but happy either way, right? Since it was you planting my memories back in place, I mean."

The swivel chair came to a stop. Pinkie sat parallel to Lyra, turning only her eyes so she was staring at the former musician.

"Well, what could I say?" she snickered. "Everypony bases their assumptions on their own selves."

Rearing her head back, Lyra made another dry cackle. Even if that remark was meant to be a joke, it was still spot-on.

"Touché!" she curled her lips to a toothy grin. "You do know you're awfully complicit now, though? You're practically an enemy of Equestria now... along with me."

The chair squeaking as it turned around, Pinkie rotated until she faced Lyra.

"Well, we'll see about that." she said with a triumphant smirk, the chair's momentum making her turn away. "History is written by bakers, you know."

"Already thinking about making history? Somepony's sure confident," Lyra toned her grin down a notch. "I'm pretty sure I was in jail until yesterday... and only got out because of an unlikely plan that hinged on the whims of a mad demigod."

"Actually... that was more like two days ago." Pinkie giggled embarrassedly, scratching the back of her neck as she rotated around. "And well.... we kinda' needed more things come together than simply asking Discord for help. But you know what? It's a sign that we could pull all of that off! A sign that we're on the right track. You were chosen to win this game!"

Chuckling darkly, Lyra shook her head.

Chosen, she repeated the word. It was probably a coincidence, but that sounded almost as if the baker had become the spokespony for that annoying game master.

I need a break... I'm thinking some very strange things now. Lyra crashed onto the floor, also pondering if that sudden paranoia was the result of Axiom tampering with her head.

Though then again, the very thought of a servant writing memories into her head was high-grade paranoia-fuel in itself.

"I'm so damn confused!" Lyra cackled emptily, lying limp on the floor. "What should I do now...?"

"Oh, you're asking me?" Pinkie jumped up and down, rocking the chair. "I was never asked to make plans before! Say, say... Lyra! Which would you fancy being - sailor, or mutineer?"

"Sailor...?" Lyra frowned, then glanced to her equally confused servant. "Mutineer?"

"Well, the Princesses have no idea that you exist, so you've got a few days of headstart before they start moving in earnest." Pinkie stood on the slowly rotating chair, holding her front her legs wide open. "The first option is that we follow Ardent Dawn and sail to the other side of the world... or whatever the safe distance of the princesses' wrath is."

Rolling her eyes, Lyra immediately rejected that plan. In a world where teleporting ponies existed, the two of them had little chance of going anywhere without a princess greeting them there. And just where would they go, anyway? Neither she, nor Pinkie, knew anything about Equestria's neighbour countries. They didn't even speak any other languages.

"In case we pick the mutineer route, you can simply march to Canterlot Palace and well... convince the princesses that they were wrong all along. And that we were right, of course!" Pinkie struck a theatrical pose, keeping one hoof on her back and pointing at the ceiling with the other.

Snorting as she muffled a laughter, Lyra shook her head. She particularly liked how plan B involved only her marching up to Canterlot.

Seems like you're running away no matter what I pick, huh? Though then again, this is my fight.

Shuffling her mane with a hoof, Lyra knew that choice - wasn't.

Yeah, there's no way I can simply turn tail and run. What I did to Twilight... that only has meaning if I can end this game in turn.

Though then again, 'ending the game' only sounded that simple in theory. That wish could only come true through trampling both princesses - with each of them being way more powerful than Lyra could ever hope to be. Snowy couldn't offset her disadvantages either, as the princesses had their own servants themselves... with the possible exception of Luna, on whom Lyra's opinion remained divided.

On the other hoof, she was already in Canterlot - and in walking distance from the palace, with none of the princesses even knowing of her existence. She could catch both of them by surprise; a chance as good as she could ever get.

Yeah. Surprise can be a great boon, Lyra mused as she rose from the floor. She vividly remembered how easily she prevailed over a magician much more capable than herself. That was the power of surprise. Surprise... and ruthless efficiency.

Ruthlessness, Lyra squinted at Snowy. Just like the way I did away with Twilight. I need to give this my all and ignore every consequence, huh...

She didn't need to deliberate for too long; she had barely any other choice but to go all-out anyway. She had already tried doing things the subtle way, but failing to abuse her powers had simply led her to a dark cell she wasn't keen on returning to.

I'm not even sure why I'm so concerned. I can undo any damage as long as I get all the servants, she flashed a devious grin, her gaze meeting Pinkie's. Right... I guess it's really settled, then.

With the fireplace quietly crackling in the background, Lyra cleared her throat and put on the most confident face she could muster.

"Well! I say we give that mutiny thing a shot."
> 41 - Ain't That a Kick in the Head
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mutiny, huh? Well, I guess I'm a psychic now!" Pinkie giggled and spun her chair away. "I saw your answer coming from miles away!"

"Must've been difficult," Lyra rolled her eyes.

Like I've got tons of options.

She flashed a dry grimace at that thought.

Talking about options... how would I even get started? Big words are easy, but I'm kind of on my own against two princesses.

Quickly recounting her 'transportation' from Ponyville to Canterlot, Lyra had to revise her statement right away.

...two princesses and a whole frigging army, she added as a darker frown crept onto her face.

Even if incompetent and flighty, the Guard was a factor she simply couldn't ignore. It didn't matter if the individual troopers were worthless, not when there were so many of them. 'Quantity has a quality all its own'; that was a bitter lesson Lyra had learnt well, back when she was almost gobbled up by a changeling horde.

Staring at the trapdoor and imagining the world beyond, her situation felt quite reminiscent. She was surrounded by thousands of angry no-gooders who all wanted her head, simply because their Queen had decreed so.

The tactic she had abused the last time wouldn't work now either - she couldn't imagine the princesses doing her the favour of showing up in person, just so she could beat them in front of their army.

I'm so screwed if they have even half a brain, Lyra thought, giving her head a mighty rub. I'm going to be a pike-pincushion before I get even halfway to the palace.

"So? Are you going to go back to the palace now?" she heard Pinkie's voice ring from behind.

Blowing hot air out her nostrils, Lyra bit her lip. That was some unnerving question, eerily predicting her thoughts.

"What other choice do I have?" she squeezed the words out. She gulped and took a deep breath, continuing in a calmer tone. "My chances won't get any better no matter how long I wait."

"Awww. But Luna's in there... and Celly too." Pinkie hummed. Crying in a faint metallic voice her chair kept swivelling on, slowly bringing the pink pony around, away from the fireplace. "Be careful! They might throw you a whole banquet when you arrive. All those dreadful Canterlot banquets with all those fake smiles, ugh..."

"Well, I s'pose having a whole army over might help livenin' up things a little," Axiom folded his front-most legs in front of him. "Nothing spells party better than a thousand armed soldiers."

"A thousand armed ponies!" Pinkie whistled admiringly, and pushed her nose up by pressing a hoof against her chin. "I wonder how many orders that'd be. I mean, those colts are wearing that bulky armour, right? Wouldn't they be hungrier than usual? Maybe I should get Mrs. Cake-"

"Okay, so could we PLEASE stop arranging my funeral party for a moment?" Lyra snapped her gaze back to the two. "I'd deeply appreciate if you put all that energy into coming up with ways I could meet those alicorns... and live to tell the tale."

"Tell the tale... and perhaps eat some cake?" Pinkie put the question forward with open curiosity. "I'm just asking because I'd hate having to leave you hungry when everything's done!"

Glaring at the pink pony and the fireplace behind, Lyra idly wondered whether Pinkie could function as a marshmallow.

"Pffft. Yer' askin' the impossible!" Axiom chuckled sombrely. "Ya' can't just walk into someone's turf on yer' own, challenge them and expect to win. Seriously, are ya' stupid or what?"

"Master's not alone," Snowy spoke up firmly, taking a step toward the spider. "I am with Master, and shall remain so."

"Yea, yea. And ya' know what? Yer' hardly any help, Nix." Axiom waved with one of his hairy legs. "How are ya' gonna' stop ponies from gettin' in yer way, huh? What are ya' gonna do, keep all of 'em soldiers forgettin' if they so much as look angry? Or better yet, would ya' get to the root of the issue straight away? Make everypony forget who the Princesses are?"

Lyra's face stiffened for a moment. The idea did cross her mind, briefly.

"The Princesses are too ingrained into everypony's mind... and the daily customs, too. Erasing them completely... there's no telling what would happen," she shook her head, her voice thick with the ire that she had to side with the spider. But that was the uncomfortable truth. She could make the whole place descend into chaos and anarchy in the worst case; and that didn't sound any safer than a traditional battle.

Besides, even if she could restore everything with the servants later, she didn't really want to see her home burn up in the process.

"Even so, I'm sure I'll be useful in some way." Snowy held her head high, her triumphant smile unfazed. "Me and Master have come so far on our own, after all! Even if I do not recall much of the journey, I still remember how arduous it was... and yet, here we are! Surely we can go farther, as long as we trust each other!"

"Where there's a will..." Lyra recalled the idiom with a tired chuckle. She loved - and perhaps needed - Snowy's sentimentalist attitude; the same kind of stubborn belief had kept her going as well.

Stubbornly happy thoughts had never triumphed over reality, however. Coming from that angle, Axiom's concerns were valid. Snowy was powerful indeed - but she was best used as a scalpel, performing small and neatly guided cuts. There was little point in causing mass amnesia, especially considering the backlash of such reckless actions.

Though then again, as far as Lyra went, charging an army on her own was no less reckless than turning everypony's memories upside down.

I may just have to try it. Who knows, I may recall bits of myself after the dust settles! She frowned, grimacing in earnest. I could also ask Pinkie to have Axiom restore me again. I mean, I did come out alright this time... well, more or less.

The contradictory memories in her head made Lyra lean towards the 'less' part.

"So it's only the army you're worried about?" Pinkie hummed, waking the other pony from her worry-filled thoughts.

"Only...!" Lyra chuckled with a hollow tone, snapping her head to the pink baker. "Yeah. It's only the few thousand, blindly loyal and highly armed idiots I'm worried about."

"That's not a nice way to think of them," Pinkie made a half-hearted grin, then turned her swivel chair until she faced the fireplace. "I'd rather think of them the same way I do of us - as ingredients."

Cocking her head to the side, Lyra worked her mind to decipher that phrase. But no matter how she tried, she couldn't imagine the soldiers being ingredients of anything. Theoretically speaking, there was no way they could all be stuffed into a cauldron, for starters.

"I can't imagine them being useful that way," she finally mumbled out loud.

"Shows you're not at home in the kitchen!" Pinkie giggled, peeking back over the chair's headrest. "Imagine the Guard as baking powder!"

"Baking... powder." Lyra muttered, squinting in earnest. For a brief moment, she saw stacked rows of baking powder packets marching down the avenue... and then she stopped the mental image. This was obviously beyond the limits of her feeble mind. "Uhh... what? Say what?"

So utterly lost, she quickly looked at her servant, hoping the windigo would provide some sort of help. No such luck; Snowy was simply staring with her mouth hanging wide open, so dumbstruck that she forgot about her usual habit of adding to the nonsense.

Not sure whether I should be disappointed or grateful over that, Lyra rolled her eyes.

"Tee-hee! Baking powder! White, sour like you wouldn't believe... and gets your innards moving like you absolutely wouldn't expect!" Pinkie snickered, the fireplace creating a bright outline around her face. "Nopony sane would eat that stuff."

"True that," Lyra nodded, a part of her wondering how Pinkie knew what raw baking powder tasted like.

"And yet, baking powder is absolutely invaluable. So many cakes and sweets make use of it... it's no exaggeration to say that Equestria wouldn't be the same without baking powder." Pinkie carried on in a touched voice. Her head retreated from sight, returning into the cover of the chair. "It only depends on how you put baking powder to use. If you're careful, that raw, acidic stuff can be turned into your best friend."

Lyra grimaced, furrowing her brow. She hated to admit, but she may have underestimated Pinkie. Once the baker began explaining, all the earlier nonsense turned into a pretty thoughtful - and very well hidden - message.

Oi, oi... is she a master of double-talking? Lyra squinted at the back of the swivel-chair. How is a baker this smart? Or rather... why is she a baker if she's this smart?

Pinkie didn't add anything further, though; and the protracted silence left Lyra with a bugging feeling that it was her turn to say something.

"You want me to... turn the Guard?" she asked, meekly and powerlessly as if she was making a clearly impossible proposal. Which, in all fairness, she actually did.

"You wouldn't put raw powder into your cake, would you?" Pinkie giggled briefly, turning the chair around slowly. "Assuming you're a decent baker, tee-hee!"

"Well, then I failed your exam." Lyra shook her head with a sour grimace. "I can't even imagine how I could do that! All Snowy can do is make those soldier forget about things."

"I can do that very well, though!" Snowy raised her a hoof into the air - only to retreat to hiding when her master gave her a piercing glare.

"But being amnesiac won't make anypony like or follow me!" Lyra growled, still chasing the windigo with her fiery gaze.

"Recognizing a shortcoming doesn't make you a bad chef." Pinkie shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "It only says that your kitchen may be a bit under-equipped."

Yanking her gaze back to the pink pony, a sarcastic grin was all Lyra had to offer.

"Hardy-har. Aren't you the funniest baker in town!" she rolled her eyes. "You enjoy yanking on my chains or what?"

"A little! But I enjoy making you laugh a lot more." Pinkie winked mischievously, just before her chair turned back towards the fireplace again.

"Ha! Let me guess - you'll buy me a kitchen!" Lyra cackled dryly, smacking her hoof against her forehead. "Pinkie, enough with the nonsense. This isn't helping-"

"But I am giving you a better kitchen!" The pink pony raised a hoof into the air. "Or an appliance you seem to lack, rather."

"Appliance, huh." Lyra frowned, then sighed as she rubbed her temple. "What, you have a Make-Ponies-Loyal-o-mat lying around?"

"Uh-huh! I'm a superb chef! I have every tool a baker might need!" Pinkie giggled, the chair's rotation carrying her back into view. "I have Axiom, for example! He can make everypony believe you're a princess yourself. Wouldn't the Guard follow you then? I mean, it's not like anypony could know who you really should be, right?"

Dumbstruck, Lyra felt her jaw dropping towards the floor.

When put like that, it did sound rather simple.





Lyra paced around in circles. It became easy after a while; she had walked in the same pattern for so long that her hooves had swept the dust away. It was as if her legs and the cogs in her head had become connected, only moving at the same time.

Realising that, she stopped for a moment. She had never had this habit before - she was always more of a 'sit down and think' type.

Is this another thing that Axiom mucked up in my head? she pondered, giving the spider an overt glance. Or am I just anxious? I mean, I am planning some pretty heavy stuff...

She shrugged the topic off and continued to walk, returning to the previous issue. Whether she walked while thinking didn't really matter, after all.

"Yeah, they wouldn't harm me if I were royalty... under normal circumstances." She finally spoke up, no longer able to keep her thoughts to herself. Switching from thoughts to loud speech didn't stop her from making her circles though, so she also continued to pace around. "But once I arrive to the palace, things will be anything but normal."

She turned her eyes to the swivel chair, where Pinkie was trying to play solitaire on the armrest.

Oi, oi, oi... I wasn't thinking for that long, was I? Lyra went wide-eyed, then squinted as she focused on the image. And just how does she get all those cards to balance on there?!

"Why not? You could act normal... it's not that hard! Just nominate a pony who you then dump all your work on. You'll be a fine princess as long as you don't do anything yourself." Pinkie answered rather absent-mindedly, staring at the laid-out cards with steely eyes. "Oh! And get some wings. Wings are also important for a princesses."

Lyra chucked sombrely. Somepony was clearly not paying her enough attention.

"Sure thing. I'll just pick you then." She smirked evilly at the pink baker. "Pinkie Pie, my least faithful but only student! Would you terribly mind doing my job and snap the neck of Luna and Celestia?"

"Oh!" Pinkie tore her gaze away from the cards. "The mutiny thing."

"Yeah, the mutiny thing." Lyra echoed hollowly, burying her face in her hoof. 

"The rank and file troopers won't cause ruckus. They're like thugs in a gang," Axiom spoke up. He was sitting in the least dusty spot of the whole room: on top of a table from which Pinkie had pulled the cloth. "They simply do things how the others do. They ain't fighters - they're just in there 'cause it's the job that gets them paid. They won't be makin' decisions... they'll stick their heads low and follow the herd, wherever that may get 'em. It's those who ain't in for the money you need worry about."

"That'd be the personal units of the two Princesses, right? The Palace Guard and the Nightguard," Snowy hummed, keeping a hoof on her chin. "Though the Nightguard are a very recent invention. I doubt they could have fanatical devotion to a pony who was the Nightmare Moon a few years ago."

Haha! You can barely remember anything of our time together, yet you still remember the irrelevant stuff we've mentioned in our planning sessions, Lyra smirked at the windigo in her utter disbelief. She was quite impressed by how well Snowy was taking the effects of a fragmented mind; she had a brief taste earlier, and she was far from being that composed.

Considering what her adventure to the palace promised to look like, she was in for some serious memory damage again.

She could only hope she would take it so well as her servant.

You eccentric bastard... you don't even know how much I envy you.

"Yeah, I agree. It's only the Palace Guard that should cause issues," Pinkie said as she shuffled the deck together, creating a big lump of cards on the seat of her chair. "They aren't numerous compared to the other Guards in the city either... but they ARE die-hards. I can tell because they wear golden armour of all things! Seriously, that's like the worst metal you can make armour out of! Even bronze offers better protection! Anypony wearing golden armour is guaranteed to be absolutely bonkers!"

Pushing thoughts of her impending memory loss to the back of her mind, Lyra turned her gaze back to the pink pony.

"What if I made the Palace Guard also forget who Celestia was?"

"That'd make them quite confused I guess. But I doubt 'Tia would sit back and just watch as you turned her whole army against her," Pinkie mused as she organised the pile of cards into an orderly deck. "Besides, we're still talking about the order of thousands of soldiers or so. I don't mean to be rude, but... can you even muck with so many heads at the same time?"

Pinkie raised the deck high, balancing it on her hoof.

"Would be a darn shame if you forgot about your big plan," she giggled and threw all the cards into the air. "I mean, all that effort for nothing."

Standing in the shower of cards, Lyra held her head low and bit on her lip.

That was a valid concern. She did forget about the big picture once already - she recalled having no idea about her grand goal the time she was in jail. Though then again...

"Couldn't you remind me again?" she looked at the pink pony, studying that undecipherable face. "I mean, aren't we a team?"

"I would, but I won't." Pinkie dropped her hoof back on the chair. "You've probably noticed, but using Axiom carries... certain side-effects. Too many reminders, and you'll certainly go insane. Which is fine for a loony baker, but for the hero saving all of Equestria... weeeeell..."

Lyra nodded soberly. Yeah, I did notice that much. Still, if given two flavours of insanity, her pick was clear.

"Messing up my memories... well, I can deal with that! Being a little insane is still better than not knowing anything."

Sitting in the chair with her front legs folded on her chest, Pinkie gave that exclamation a curious glance.

"So says the pony who aims to get all the servants," she raised her eyebrows. "So what will happen once you become God, if you go insane in the process? Will you make us prefer salty pretzel over delicious sweets? Make rivers flow backwards? Turn the sky pink?"

Lyra opened her mouth, but no words came out. The gears churned away in her head, but ultimately failed to provider her an answer. That question belonged to the time after she had won, and she had never thought that far ahead.

"I didn't help you to give rise to another Discord," Pinkie hammered the point home, her naturally cheerful expression becoming gloomy as if a switch was turned off. "So do me a favour and stay true to yourself. That's all I ask."

Her mouth pulling to a small grin, Lyra nodded curtly.

"Of course," she giggled and scratched the back of her neck to deal with her building embarrassment. "I'll be careful."

Pinkie's face immediately sprang back to the smiling variant.

"Then it's fine!" she exclaimed cheerfully, throwing her hooves into the air, rocking the chair around. "All is fine as long as you keep that in mind!"

Lyra wasn't that happy - she was pretty torn, actually. While it was nice to see the pink pony being so confident in her, she had a hard time processing all the extra things she had to be careful about.

All the extra things she should have kept in mind for the whole time, apparently.

I'm such a ditz, she sighed loudly, feeling her constant doubts re-emerge. Why is it me doing this? It's obvious I'm no hero... I'm just not the right material. Argh...

"No turning back now," she mumbled to herself, then cracked her eyes open and turned her voice up. "Right... this only means we need to plan our moves carefully. What do you say we go somewhere more comfortable? Sunbutt and Luna have no idea about me right now, so we have the time."

"I wonder about that," Axiom grumbled, turning all his eight eyes to the pink baker. "Guess it's time ya told her, Boss."

Blinking in open confusion, Lyra stared at Axiom and Pinkie in alternation. The spider sounded quite ominous - a fact that was further stressed by the protracted silence of Pinkie. Watching the two figures while listening only to her heavy breathing and the crackling of the fireplace, Lyra gulped nervously. She didn't need to be a psychic to be able to tell: something heavy was about to go down.

It was the first time she saw Pinkie being at a loss for words.

"Yeah... about that." Pinkie glanced to the side. Her usual upbeat tone was gone - her voice was weak, almost trembling. "I was thinking about this, and... well... this is going to be one messy party. No matter what you do, there's going to be some chaos. And to keep that in check, you'll probably need to do some split-second decisions. So I, uh... I don't think that making long and complicated plans with me is going to help you."

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. She could have understood if the pink pony wanted out. Could have - if they were still at the beginning of this conversation.

"Didn't you offer your help a moment ago?" she asked extra-cautiously and took a step towards the pink baker, squinting and trying to decipher this sudden wavering attitude. "Or are you saying that we should just go in and hope for the best?"

"You're always missing the most obvious answer," Pinkie shook her head, a tired grin on her face. "All I've said is that I'm not going. I didn't say that my offer is null."

Lyra felt her grip on the conversation loosening again. She scratched her head and wished she could see that 'most obvious answer' - because she couldn't, and that hopeless search was driving her irritated.

"You can't just send Axiom on his own!" she finally put her frustration into physical words, her hoof banging on the floor. "He hates Snowy and I can't give him orders... and I'm not even sure if he can stray that far from you in the first place!"

"Still missing the most obvious solution," Pinkie slumped down in the chair, her head propped against her hoof. "Haaa-aaah... seems I gotta' spell it out for you."

Her eyebrow twitching, Lyra puffed hot air from her nostrils.

"I'm all ears," she furrowed her forehead.

"And isn't that a good thing!" Pinkie laughed. "You don't hear something like this all the time!"

The pink pony yanked on her upper torso, making her chair rotate until she was facing the huge spider on the table.

"Axiom!" she declared, so loudly that the cellar boomed with her voice. "I hereby order you to take orders from Lyra in the future!





The crackling of a few thin branches of firewood had never been more deafening than in the following moments.

"Heh. Ya've really gone and done it," Axiom shook his head, then placed all his legs back onto the floor. "Very well... as you wish, Boss. Uh, ex-boss. Ugh, that sounds really weird." 

"You... what?" Lyra echoed hollowly, then turned her head to the windigo next to her. Snowy didn't offer anything constructive; she simply returned the questioning glare with a blank expression.

For all this time, Lyra had no idea that masters could give servants away on a whim. Given the life-and-death nature of the Game, this seemed like an absurd concept.

"The easiest solution," Pinkie threw a wink at the flabbergasted unicorn. "Now you can go in and make all the decisions. No middle-pony required!"

That answer did not help making Lyra's mind-gears move any faster.

"But..."

"There ain't no going back now," Axiom turned away from the pink pony. His words were slow and drawn-out, filled with bitterness. "Stop makin' this harder... Boss. Let's get goin'. There ain't no point in stickin' around any longer."

Snapping her head to the spider, Lyra couldn't help but be outraged.

"What do you mean there's no point! This isn't something I can just accept so easily! I mean.. uh..."

I did want to get all the servants, in the end.

Holding a hoof to her aching head, Lyra had to admit: she had no idea what the proper reaction should have been. She had made a step toward her goal, but the whole thing was so sudden and unexpected...

"I have no idea what Axiom could've just told you... but I have a hunch and I can tell you he's right. I've given you all the help I could offer," Pinkie sighed and turned swivel-chair around completely. She was facing the fireplace, her back to Lyra and the servants. "It's up to you from here on out. Go and save Equestria now!"

I have no idea what Axiom just told you...? Lyra balked for a second - then yanked her hoof to her mouth once realisation struck. She's got no servants.. so she's no longer a master! And as a regular pony, she can't see Axiom or Snowy any more...

Trying to inch her head so both the spider and the baker were in her view, that sudden severance of ties made Lyra the most heartfelt. It didn't seem fair, having a friendship break up with so little fanfare. One curt command and poof - everything was over.

Though then again, the Game had never been particularly kind to begin with. This kind of departure was almost the perfect kind of closure to such a wicked play.

"R- right. I won't make you disappointed," Lyra nodded curtly and turned around, headed to the stairs. "Snowy, with me! We're leaving. And... uh, Axiom, you too."

She prowled through the old cellar in utter silence. She was shaken, and her emotions made it difficult for her to think. The most obvious solution, as Pinkie had called it...  well, Lyra would have never thought of it. She wouldn't have even considered it.

Loud creaks startled her from her thoughts. She glanced down, by reflex; and was surprised to see the old stairs under her hoof. She had crossed the cellar and was making her way out - so absent-mindedly that she didn't even realise the fact until the noise hit her ears.

She turned her head, slowly and quietly. Glancing behind her, she saw the servants staring at her questioningly... and far back, in the back of the cellar, was the swivel chair, still turned towards the fireplace.

"Bye, Pinkie." Lyra sighed and pushed the trapdoor open.

She was still struggling with the heavy door when the pink pony's reply reached her ears.

"Tee-hee! We'll see each other soon... much sooner than-" 

Lyra couldn't hear the end of that sentence. The door opened with a creak and the air around her exploded with the tavern's loud noise, drowning out any other sounds.





Pulling herself onto the wooden floor and carefully placing the trapdoor back, Lyra took a careful look at the innards of the inn. She had no idea how long she had been in the cellar, but it must have been quite a while. The inn was almost empty when she went down, and now was full of various ponies and gryphons. Most of the tables were full, and the noise reached deafening levels now and again.

"Didn't know this place was so famous," Lyra muttered to herself and steeled her nerves for cutting through the crowd.

"Cause it ain't," Axiom snickered as he scurried ahead, inspecting the nearby tables and the ponies drinking there. "Boss... I reckon it'd be wise to disappear from this 'ere place. Expeditiously."

Lyra didn't really understand the sudden haste, but she had little willingness to stay in that sorry excuse for an inn. She nodded after a moment of hesitation and followed the spider.

It was much more difficult to navigate the place than the time she had arrived, though. There was little space between the tables to begin with; now, with the inn being full of guests, even that little space was gone. The guests themselves didn't help either; most of them were past the first bottle... some of them way past. Only her quick reflexes saved Lyra from having a gryphon fall onto her; the poor thing fell from his table like a sack of rocks, crashing onto the floor with a painfully loud thud.

Nopony seemed to mind - except that one colt who quickly rushed to the suddenly free spot.

"Whoa," Lyra mumbled, with shock and thinly veiled disgust. "Yeah, you weren't kidding... we need to get out of here."

Axiom was still a few tables ahead of her, but he still managed to pick up the faint words. He gave his sightseeing a pause and turned around, waving a hairy leg around the busy inn.

"This ain't the problem, Boss. In fact, if ya' wanna' disappear... this'd be a pretty ideal crowd." He pointed at the loudest bunch. "Ordinarily, that is. But rite' now? I think the State is hot on yer' tail... so hot that in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they had followed ya' 'ere. We need to scram and lay low, unless you fancy another round with them officers."

"Oh come on. They don't even know who I a- OOF!" Lyra cackled, right until an earth pony fell on her. "Get off me, you creep!"

She yanked the stranger with her magic and tossed him to the ground.

"Boss, I saw yer' memories." Axiom crossed two legs below his face. "Luna may not know who ya' are, but she ain't stupid either. Sure, she let ya' run away... but she's got a pretty long reach, ya' know what I mean? Ya' ain't in the clear yet... and if yer' ain't careful, ya' may find yerself sleepin' with the fishes before long."

"Pfuh-lease. She's got no reason to suspect me," Lyra inched her way through tables, carefully stepping over a few sleeping patrons. "She was the one who let me go, for Equestria's sake!"

From the corner of her eye, Lyra saw a few drinkers measure her up with suspicion.

Yeah, right. I'm talking to myself, she reminded herself. Better keep my voice down. Axiom and Snowy will still hear me anyway.

"Ugh. Boss... takin' everything at face value is the best way to get yer' own face shot. Luna let ya' go 'cause she really needs a spotless reputation... she's walkin' on thin ice, Nightmare Moon and whatnot." Axiom groaned wearily, rubbing his face with another of his legs. "That don't mean yer' off the hook - just that she's gonna' have to make ya' disappear quietly. Get a few thugs bash yer' head in a shady alley or something."

Lyra, in the process of evading yet another drunk, gave the spider a piercing glare. She opened her mouth to complain; she really didn't need this extra paranoia. Her mind had moved on before she got her chance to speak though, changing the question from 'WHY' to 'WHY NOT'.

It didn't take a lot of brainpower to see: Axiom's theory had a lot of merit.

Now that I think about it... it WAS a little surprising how easily I was let go, Lyra rubbed her filthy, dusty-sticky hoof against her chin. Don't think there are many ponies released from jail just because they were put in the wrong cell.

"Well, if that was Luna's plan, then it has two obvious issues!" Snowy declared triumphantly from the top of a table, her leg sticking into a bowl of food.

"Do explain," Axiom raised his eyes to the windigo.

"Us!" Snowy gave a curt bow. "There's no way anypony can get the drop on Master - for Master has two extra sets of eyes! We can keep watch over her day and night, scouting every room and alley should the need arise."

Lyra couldn't help but chuckle at the remark. She wanted to burst into a laughter actually, but she had to tone her reaction down - she didn't want to appear too suspicious.

"Good one!" she muttered, still fighting the urge to giggle like a foal. "But really, I'm counting on you two. Let me know if you spot anything that's-"

Axiom cut her off. All of the spider's eight eyes went wide, and he raised a leg, pointing directly at Lyra.

"Be...hind you, Boss." The spider spoke, in such a thin voice as he was running short on breath.

Limited by the space, all Lyra could do was turn her head to peek behind her back. A unicorn was approaching her, moving with steady and determined steps, following the path Lyra had cleared between the tables.

Why was Axiom bothered by this colt? Lyra raised her eyebrow. There isn't anything wrong with-

She ran her gaze down the colt, carefully measuring the pony from head to hoof. Then she noticed it. 

Something glittered on the colt's right front leg. It was a strange device - a long piece of metal, strapped to the leg with a black bracelet. It served no obvious purpose, and looked quite awkward for a simple fashion accessory.

What the heck is that, Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows. At this point the colt was almost next to her.

"I dun' like how that thug looks," Axiom growled. "Boss, ya' may wanna' get outta' his way-"

"Who are you?" Lyra turned to the strange pony, ignoring the spider's advice. "Why are you follow-"

It was over in a second.

The unicorn flung his hoof at her. Lyra could briefly see that strange metal thing again; it was like a flash, a sleek silvery line that appeared and disappeared in the same moment. Then she felt a hot sensation. She didn't need to glance down to know: she had been stabbed.

That little piece of metal was... a weapon?!

She promptly discarded all manners and twisted around completely, knocking at least three other guests away in the process. She wasn't bothered by making a scene; she barely even noticed the loud grumbling that suddenly surrounded her.

The wound, while painful, didn't truly impede her. She had endured worse against the changelings.

I'll be fine once I get to use Snowy's powers, Lyra reminded herself of the servants' regenerative side-effects. Provided I don't let this psycho stab me to death first...!

"THE HECK IS YOUR PROBLEM!" she burst into a loud yell and used her magic to throw a random glass at the unicorn.

The assailant wasn't bothered by the attack; he stood his ground, swatting the glass out of the air with a well-timed slash of his armed leg.

What in Tartarus! Attacking me unprovoked... Lyra retreated a step. Space was no longer an issue; most other guests had retreated a half dozen steps, staring at the fight from afar. The fact didn't escape Lyra's notice. They don't want a fight, a huh? So it's not that I'm an outsider violating their circles. So what caused this? Did he simply try to mug me, or-

She didn't get to further explore that idea. A gryphon fell on her - and this one was clearly no drunkard. Lyra tried to shake him off, but the gryphon grabbed her and hold onto her tight.

"Let go...!" she sneered, but the brown-feathered gryphon didn't comply.

He did quite the opposite, in fact.

He kicked Lyra's leg, bringing both of them to the ground with a loud crash. Lyra tried to spring up, but more legs began pressing down on her; there were at least six hooves squeezing her against the wooden floor, with two paws also resting on her neck. She was held so tight that she couldn't even move her head.

It all happened so fast - way too fast. Huffing as she squirmed against her attackers, Lyra became absolutely convinced that these were no drunkards. The whole attack was too precise... too organized. She was struggling on the ground for a while before the noise began settling down; it took the remainder of the guests that long to take notice and begin spectating.

So the real drunkards aren't taking a side... these guys are no friends of the locals, huh? Lyra tried to smile. That quickly proved impossible; her face was squeezed against the ground. There's still like a half dozen of them ganging up me though. Ugh...  girl, how are you gonna' get out of this one?

"Don't move, Boss!" Lyra heard Axiom from behind her. "There's two colts on yer' back, and one gryphon's holding yer' neck. Let's not tick 'im off...  he may just snap ya' like a twig if ya' make him angry."

"Even better yet, let's not even give him the chance! I can make this three forget what they were planning to do... and then Master can shake them off," Snowy hopped onto the ground, staring at Lyra from between a table's legs. "Master should just give the signal."

Unable to open her mouth with her head smeared against the floor, Lyra blinked twice. She had meant to convey that she had understood, but Snowy mistook the cue - and flashed brightly before Lyra had a chance to protest.

Ehhh! Might as well! Lyra growled internally. There was no time to waste - she could feel the push on her back lifting as her captors became confused. She threw herself to the side, crashing into a table and breaking its leg. The table collapsed on her, spilling glasses and bottles on the floor; but more importantly, while Lyra had wound up below the table, the other three were on the other side. Using her fleeting advantage, she sprang up; her sides hurt, but that was practically nothing compared to the earlier beatings she took. She turned around, towards the door to the outside-

-and something tackled her. She was struck in the middle of her torso, and the impact had left her winded; she staggered to the left, finally bumping against the counter as she tried to catch her breath.

Out of instinct, she glanced back, trying to see her attacker... and was surprised to see the room continuing to spin around her. The violent move was a little too much for her stomach, and for a brief second she was fighting the urge to throw up.

"Guh...!" she grit her teeth. Getting her bearings was difficult, but she was still quite certain that the armed unicorn was approaching her again. "Get away from me!"

"I'm surprised you can still talk," the unicorn wondered aloud and cleared his throat, carrying his gaze around the many shocked guests surrounding him. "Everypony! There's no need to worry! We're not police. This is a monster hunting unit! And that pony-shaped thing has been marked for capture."

"You should be glad that... augh, that thing hasn't done anything to you," the brown gryphon rattled from behind the overturned table.

"Monster hunting unit...?" Lyra echoed with great difficulty - her tongue wasn't rolling as easily as it used to. Snapping her hoof to the ground to keep herself upright in the wobbling room, a horrible suspicion was dawning on her.

That blade... it was poisoned, wasn't it?

The unicorn didn't notice his advantage or felt no need to press it. He was standing a few steps away from Lyra, still addressing the crowd around him.

"All of you stay still and nopony gets hurt!" she shouted and turned back to Lyra. "Don't you move either. You'll be safe and asleep in a few minutes... so don't move, m'kay? Just relax until sleepy-time comes."

It's just like in the hills, Lyra grit her teeth. She had a flashback of lying behind the firewood with a her blood trickling to the floor... hiding, hoping the armed thugs wouldn't notice her. It was the same scene all over again. Squinting to lessen the afterimages, she snarled at the approaching unicorn.

You were sent by the princess, weren't you. Even if they don't know who I am, there's still no respite. I'm fair game as long as I have a servant.

She tried to move away from the counter, but quickly pedalled back. The room was spinning around her even more wildly as soon as she wasn't touching a fixed object.

Guh! This is... alright, this is pretty bad. I was quite naive to think I'd be let go just because nopony knows who I am, huh...

"Lost yer' marbles, Boss?! Don't just sit still!" she heard Axiom shout. "These ain't no monster hunters - they gotta' be the thugs sent after ya'! Are ya' seriously just gonna' sit still and let 'em get ya?!"

"I concur with Axiom, Master." Snowy rose from behind the broken table. "We've tried compliance already, and it didn't get us very far. I don't see a reason we should repeat that experiment... if our choices boil down to submission or confrontation, then we should really try fighting this time."

I know that much! Lyra tried to say, but only growling noises left her mouth. She couldn't speak; the sick feeling in her stomach forced her to keep her jaws flexed.

Can't even call for help, huh.Lyra drew a ragged breath as the unicorn walked closer to her. Oh, come on! All you did was stab me with that freaking needle. Howcome that's all it took...?

"Enough foolin' around!" Axiom growled. He reached behind his back and whipped a blank sheet of paper out of nowhere, a quill materializing in his other leg. He spun around, hastily scribbling onto the scroll as he carried his gaze across the room.

"Axiom, you can't just act on your own!" Snowy yelled at the spider. "You will mess up Master's head!"

"She's messed up quite enough already! I'm only stirrin' the soup now!" Axiom shouted back, then wrote the last few words with such force that his quill tore through the paper. "My Boss gave up on the game just to give this dunce a chance... so I ain't lettin' it end this easily!"

He was barely in time.

"Don't do this," Lyra managed to squeeze a few words out her mouth. She had figured that was wasting her breath; her broken voice didn't convince anypony. But she had to at least try; her legs and neck were numb, and she could barely move. "You've... ugh, you've no idea who you're serving. This... agh. This is the worst you... you can do."

"You were not given permission to speak," the unicorn snickered. He held his leg high, the sharp metal rod glittering in the weak light. "I was promised a promotion for taking you in... don't think I'm passing up my chance!"

Promotion? Lyra drew a ragged breath. All this for a promotion...?

She had no idea how to react to that. She immediately understood: that wasn't a mistake, nor a misunderstanding. This was something more fundamentally tragic.

It was greed, plain and simple.

You're delivering me, who saved an entire town, into the clutches of the monster who had enabled that very attack to happen? Just so you can get an extra medal?!

Her entire body began burning. The numbness was letting up, replacing by the sensation of a thousand pins pricking her everywhere. Lyra didn't terribly mind; the room around her began calming as the numbness receded, the wobbling world settling back into its usual place.

This allowed her to take one good look at the unicorn's face up close.

"Sorry dude," she gave the unicorn a dry smirk. "I'm not letting you screw everything up."

"As if you had a say in the matter," the unicorn frowned and swung with his hoof.

Out of time, Lyra began moving. She obviously could have used a little more rest - her legs still felt as if she was dragging them around with strings. This was still better than lying and awaiting her fate, though. She grunted hard, pushed herself against the counter and kicked with her free leg.

The strike was unexpected and fairly powerful, but lacked in precision. The blow glanced off the unicorn's head; he crouched down, visibly dazed but otherwise unhurt. It took him a few breaths to pull himself together, the exact moment marked by his horn flaring up with a yellow colour. A knife appeared in front of him - he probably had a cleverly disguised holster on him.

Lyra didn't enjoy that development. Blades still got her somewhat nervous - especially when she was barely able to move.

"The real monster here is the one you're serving," she wheezed and rolled around, onto her hooves. She didn't have the time to actually get up; the unicorn was already preparing to strike before she could get that far. All Lyra could do was grab a table with her magic and yank it between herself and the pony. All while screaming at the top of her lungs. "LOOK IN THE MIRROR! YOU'RE THE MONSTER! YOU'RE MURDERING A PONY FOR A MEDAL!"

A loud thud rang out. The dagger pierced the thin wood of the table, running as deep as the crossguard let it; the blade stopped mere inches short of Lyra's face. She could clearly see the small chips in the metallic surface - and a thin layer of liquid, even more disturbingly.

Does this colt only carry poisoned stuff?! Lyra scampered onto her hooves, recoiling from the deadly weapon. Bet this one isn't just some sedative either.

She glanced at the tip of the blade again, then chuckled darkly.

Come to think of it, this is the first time I see such underhooved weapons... not even the changelings sunk this low.

But there was no time for her to get shocked. The table swayed wildly and was flung aside, revealing a quite furious unicorn, the dagger still in his magical grasp.

"That's it. You had your chance," he rattled and thrust with the small blade.

Lyra lacked the response to that attack. She broke into a cold shiver and rose a leg to protect her face; but it was all in vain. It didn't matter if she got stabbed in the neck, the torso or the leg if the strike was poisonous.

Time seemed to slow down as her mind raced high on adrenaline. She couldn't think of anything to do; so all she did was to stare at the blade as it sailed through the air. It was such a mesmerizing sight, too... she couldn't break her gaze away.

And as the tip of the blade approached, a single word jumped to her mind.

"Sno- SNOWY-!"

As expected, the miracle came. The unicorn faltered; he lost his momentum and almost held still, a vacant expression on his face. His focused slipped and his magic broke, the yellow aura disappearing from around the blade. The weapon fell and clattered uselessly on the dirty floor.

What- Lyra blinked at the unexpected chance. Even if it was at her order, the unexpected chance still took her by surprise. It didn't take her long to recognise the expression though; quite many changelings looked like that before she pummelled them. She glanced to her side and indeed, her windigo was fading back to her usual colours.

Last second save, Lyra took a quivering breath. Now, I need to take this crazy out of commission before-

Someone else capitalized on the opening that Snowy had made. A bottle appeared out of nowhere and landed right on the monster hunter's head, shattering into two, spewing red wine and twinkling glass-shards into the air. The impact visibly rocked the pony; he staggered and fell to the ground, landing heavily like a freshly cut tree.

The fight was over so abruptly that it took Lyra a while to register the danger was gone. The unicorn was lying limp at her hooves, out cold or barely conscious; and going by the slowly ebbing noise, the other 'monster hunters' had also been subdued.

Lyra closed her eyes and winced, gritting her teeth. This was close- very close. Up until this point, she had never seriously toyed with the idea of fighting other ponies. She had always assumed she'd manage to 'subdue' her opponents in some way, but she never gave the actual process much mind. She was absolutely unprepared to deal with a pony who was about to skewer her.

She had let her guard down and almost suffered the ultimate price for the mistake. 

It may be fighting... but it's so different from the changelings, she giggled dryly. That lot actually fought for their food. But these guys... for a medal? Seriously?

A chill ran down Lyra's back; the image of the unicorn swiping the poisoned blade at her sprang into her mind. Such a cowardly and cheap attempt at her life... her blood boiled the moment she was done shuddering.

And I didn't even poke the hornets' nest yet... threatening the princesses. I can't even imagine what kind of hell is going to be set loose.

"¿Está bien?"

Cracking her eyes open, Lyra saw the barkeep talking to her. The gryphon extended one paw to her, still gripping a bottle of wine with the other.

"So it was you," Lyra mumbled, darting her eyes between the unconscious unicorn and the barkeep.

"De nada," the gryphon shrugged. "Menos que puedo hacer, compañero."

Lyra wrinkled her eyebrows at that word. 

Compañero?

Turning her head a bit, Lyra saw Axiom in the corner of her eye. 

Right... you used your powers on your own. They remember me as some old pal now, huh?

"Good going there, you two." She mumbled with a tiny shake of her head. The tingling was dying down; she felt normal. Or whatever passed for normal. "Saved my butt."

"Tee-hee! We did GOOD!" Snowy giggled and spun around her hind hoof like a ballerina.

"Yea', sure dodged the bullet 'ere." Axiom shrugged and folded two pairs of legs in front of his face. "But Boss... do try not get yerself' into these tight spots, m'kay? I ain't no bodyguard... there's only so much I can do to help, ya' know."

Lyra nodded and hunkered down to the base of the counter. She fiddled until she sat comfortably and pulled a bottle close to her; whatever that drink was, she really needed it. She popped the cork and stared at the sloshing liquid; then she chuckled absent-mindedly and took a deep gulp.

That thing was so acidic it could barely be called wine; but Lyra didn't feel picky at that very moment. She shuddered at the sour taste, but the drink made her comfortably numb mere moments later. She needed that feeling; she needed to wind down. It was over... even if only for the time being.

Rising the bottle to take another sip, a soft moaning hit her ears. Looking around with the bottle glued to her lips, she saw the unicorn twitch a little. The pony was coming to, but only very slowly; he was still simply whimpering.

Lyra reared her head back and downed a mouthful of the vile booze; then she sipped the sweet, cold air and gave the defeated monster-hunter a wicked grin.

"So much for your medal," she frowned and kicked hard with her hind leg.

Lyra watched the limp pony knock a table aside and land like a ragdoll, all without the slightest emotion. If actually felt fair more than anything - she was made suffer so much more. It was only because of her all-permeating weariness that she didn't get up to scream, shout and deliver a resounding beat-down. For the sake of justice... for the sake of vengeance. For the trust she was rapidly losing in her own kind.

Being as drained as she was however, all she felt like doing was to shake her head and take another gulp from the bottle.

"Guess I owe you colts a thanks anyhow," she grumbled and took another sip. "Thanks for waking me up."

Settling the bottle down, she narrowed her eyes and pulled her mouth to a smirk.

From now on, anything goes.
> 42 - I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

"That's all I know, honest!" the pegasus whined. His distress seemed appropriate, as he was tied tight with a long piece of rope. "We were only told to get the pony with the golden lyre mark! I- I don't know why! I really don't!"

A faint murmur rippled across the crowd surrounding him. The inn's guests had all gathered for the rare show, forming a loose circle around the captive. It was hard to capture the atmosphere; Lyra could only liken it to some sort of a warped garden party. She wasn't sure about her own feelings either; she wasn't angered, nor afraid. She was simply standing near a table, occasionally sipping the cold cider the barkeep had given her. It was on the house, of course; that was the least the barkeep could do for an 'old friend'.

Holding the moist bottle against the side of her head, Lyra was quite happy about this unexpected side-benefit. Axiom's trick was truly a gift that kept on giving.

"Told ya'," the spider grumbled and settled onto her table, barely leaving Lyra with time to yank herself out of the way. "Plain ol' everyday Joes, doin' whatever the Big Brother asks of 'em."

Turning her gaze to the bound pegasus, Lyra nodded and broke into a lengthy sigh. Axiom was right, of course; few ponies would have continued to resist after witnessing how all their comrades had gotten beaten. Most would have folded to any pressure right away.

Heck, I've seen my entire village get abandoned... BEFORE the fight could have begun, Lyra frowned and took a sip.

"So ya've no idea why yer' after her head?" a gryphon cracked his knuckles, approaching the tied pegasus with a rather ominous glint in his eyes.

"Ahaha... I sure don't!" the pegasus cackled nervously, then motioned at the limp body of his commander. "He might have! ...I... I guess?"

Lyra rolled her eyes. She wasn't sure whether she believed that pony - who was either an assassin lying through his teeth, or a thug for hire who didn't mind getting his hooves bloody.

No need to feel sorry for him either way, Lyra decided and sipped some more cold cider.

"I don't really care why you're after me," she slammed her bottle onto the table, glaring daggers at the shivering pegasus. "A knife between my ribs is a knife between my ribs... doesn't matter if it's a birthday gift or the Don's final message."

Biting onto her lip, she quickly pondered just who Don was. She recalled an older pony clad in black clothes, and for a passing moment almost heard the low voice ringing in her ears.

That memory raised some further questions, though.

Just who IS that pony... and where did I even meet him?

"Don't we already know why these sell-swords are after Master, though?" Snowy scratched her head and stared at Lyra from up-close, startling the pony from her momentary stupor. "They are here because the princesses want to take me from Master."

"H-h-heey... I didn't want to stab you," the pegasus whined in a trembling voice. A few more guests crept closer to him, and their faces didn't hint much good for his well-being. "I-I-I have no problems with you! R-really! I w-w-was only following o-o-orders!"

"Really?" Lyra smirked at the snivelling pony. "In this case... you wouldn't mind telling us how many more of you are out there, right?"

As if to add further stress the prisoner's situation, a gryphon lifted the pegasus into the air by his mane.

"There's more of ya'?!"

Steeling her face lest she make a costly mistake, Lyra swallowed her pride and let the obvious stupidity slide. Of course there are more! Nopony knowing about servants would send a single team to capture a master.

Sneaking a glance at the entrance, Lyra felt pretty sure that a whole army was circling the inn at the very moment, biding their time... perhaps waiting for the failed assault team to report back.

This whole place is turning into a trap, she suppressed her building frown. No, it's a trap already. I need to get out of here.

Her gaze snapping back to the now earnestly panicking pegasus, Lyra grit her teeth and narrowed her eyes.

Can't just run away, though. I need to know if there's another trap I could be walking into... might not get so lucky with the next ambush.

"I-I-I- I'LL TELL YOU! JUST LET ME DO- ooof!" the pegasus rattled, then groaned loudly once he hit the dusty floor. He wheezed loudly a few times, then quickly rolled onto his back, holding his bound legs defensively. "Y... yeah, there's more. A-at least three squads. I... I don't know them though! Honest! I never saw those colts before!"

"And in other news, water is wet." Axiom rubbed his head. "That's the usual method: send in some suckers, have the rest wait outside. Either to catch us if we run, or to barge in if we resist... or to contain the news if things go pear-shaped."

"Whoa!" Snowy clicked with her tongue, her head snapping to the spider. "That's quite clever, actually! The princesses are really throughout, aren't they?"

Her chin resting on her hoof, Lyra hummed to herself. At least fifteen more hitponies were waiting for her outside. And to make matters worse, there were few reasons to assume that regular Guard units wouldn't be close either, given how well-prepared the entire operation looked.

One heck of a trap... layers upon layers, Lyra shuddered at the realisation. Those soldiers out there... they can't know me, right? Though then again, they should know how I look. They probably have wanted posters of me, heh. That would be a pretty logical precaution to take.

She glanced at the street through a window for a brief moment.

Seems I really can't weasel my way out of here, she shook her head in dejection. Well, that kinda leaves confrontation as my sole option. But if I start fighting here, so far from the palace... 

A particular moment came to her mind. She had spent days studying various maps of Canterlot, planning and playing out scenarios. She did consider this kind of situation; though it only had been one of the many possibilities at the time.

I won't be able to fight my way all the way there, Lyra recalled the outcome of that imaginary battle. No matter how she tried, she couldn't avoid fighting all of the Guard stationed in Canterlot at some point. That was too many armed ponies to chew herself through.

That's only possible by relying on Axiom and Snowy, she winced. And who knows just what I'd look like after abusing the powers of those two?

Cracking her eyes open and staring blankly at the floor, Lyra mused whether that strange Don figure was a warning sign. Axiom had convinced the inn that she was a friend; maybe an imaginary friend was the backlash? And if that was the case, what would brainwashing entire battalions of soldiers do to her?

There's no way I wouldn't go insane, she bit onto her lip. What else can I do, though? Frig, FRIG, FREEEG...!

She stomped hard on the ground, the impact shaking the loose-looking nails in the plank.

If only I didn't have to do this on my own... if only I had some force of my own! Lyra glared at the loose nail, focusing all her desperation on the inanimate object. I wouldn't need so much either. Just enough to even the playing field a little... just enough to hold the Guard up.

She cut the nail a break and closed her eyes, channelling all her dejection into a deep sight.

Where would I get so many combat-ready ponies on short notice, though?

Most ponies wouldn't fight - not on her behalf, nor on anypony else's. They would simply run away. Only ridiculous amounts of brainwashing could fix that... at which point she might as well give turning the Guard to her side a shot.

"I still don't get why they'd target Lyra," a beefy colt scratched his head. He was standing a few steps left from Lyra, staring questioningly at the prisoner. "I mean, what'd she even do?"

Lyra glanced at the big colt and raised her eyebrow. Yeah, no wonder they're confused. They totally believe that they were attacked out of the blue. She almost felt sorry for those drunkards. They were turned into unwitting pawns... incredibly unwitting ones, at that. She couldn't fault them for trying to make sense of the mess that suddenly involved them.

She remembered the time she found herself in the same situation, back in the northern hills. She couldn't make heads or tails of her situation... until she caught a lucky break and overheard the two militia scheming of how they'd foalnap her, all for the sake of nabbing Snowy.

Good ol' days, she sighed with stinging, acidic-sour nostalgia. At least this lot can rest easy. They'll be free of this game once I step outside the inn.

...then, all of a sudden, Lyra's eyes jumped wide as an idea popped into her mind.

Why couldn't they be partaking in the game, actually?

This lot had just demonstrated that they were willing - and actually knew - how to fight. They were also loyal to her; not as followers but as a somewhat tight-knit circle. All of them had reasons to protect her.

Practically thinking, they lacked only the weapons to be called a personal army.

Weapons - and the motivation to follow me all the way to the palace, Lyra quickly corrected herself. Defending one of their own in their home... compared to marching all the way to the palace and causing a ruckus there... haha. This may be a tough sell.

Sipping her cider, Lyra mused on how the latter was the real issue. It wasn't an insurmountable roadblock by any means; were she in a hurry, she could have asked Snowy and Axiom to make this lot follow her blindly.

Settling her bottle on a table, she decided to give her own skills a shot first anyhow. She could always pull an 'undo' if things turned sour.

She broke into a loud yell. "I know why they came here!" There was a bit of a shuffle as all the gryphons and ponies turned to her.

Khg! she shuddered at becoming the centre of attention. It was like an old, unwanted neighbour paying her a visit; she hadn't felt stagefright in a long while. Playing music at fancy events was a lot different to giving a speech in the middle of a slum, after all.

Oi, oi... what's with you, girl? It's not like this place is dangerous now. This lot trusts you completely! she reminded herself. All I need to do is to fire them up. Yeah... all I gotta' do is keep my cool and spout some populist nonsense. Come to think of it, wasn't there a play about a colt who sparked a rebellion...?

She shook her head a little and cleared her throat.

Forget about the Opera, for Equestria's sake! FOCUS!

"Sunbu- Celestia wants to get rid of y- of us!" she hollered at the top of her lungs, slowly carrying her gaze across the crowd. "First they're gonna take this inn away from us... and then they're gonna' kick us out, right to Everfree!"

Lyra had high expectations of her little speech - which clearly weren't met. Only low murmur ran through the crowd, suspiciously sounding as if the native speaking ponies were translating for those who couldn't understand.

"Master should prepare multilingual handouts next time," Snowy giggled nervously.

"What's an everfree?" a pegasus rose his hoof from the back rows. His question was met by a loud choir of concord; many of the guests went beyond simply voicing their opinion and began nodding enthusiastically.

"You're kidding, right?" Lyra frowned. She had no idea exactly whom the question came from, so she had to direct her unappreciative glare at random ponies instead. "How can you not know that?!"

"Cause' he ain't from these parts, and he ain't got no chance to travel... or learn." Axiom sighed and stared at the floor, rubbing his head. "Boss... I get what yer' tryin', I really do. But if ya' wanna' be leadin' this lot, then ya' got to be able to connect to 'em. Try to understand 'em a little! Yer' high-life views ain't gonna' work."

"High-li-?!" Lyra cut her surprised yell short, glaring questioningly at the spider.

Just what is THAT supposed to mean? I was making peanuts compared to the big shots!

"Master has a house... and barely anything else." Snowy rubbed her chin, staring at Lyra with a phased-out expression. "Is that high-life nowadays?"

"As if ownin' a house was nothin' to brag about... but anyway! I've seen how yer' Master has lived," Axiom chuckled and shook his head. Lacking an actual neck, he had to move almost his all body - but he still got the message across. "It's a far cry from what this lot knows. They've come from all over the world... and this time I'm meanin' the entire globe 'o mud, not just this fancy kingdom."

Curious and a little dumbfounded, Lyra raised her eyebrow. She also raised a hoof, signalling to the crowd that she was going to resume her tirade on short order; those ponies couldn't possibly know that she was listening to another tirade in the meantime. For all they knew, her silence meant that she was done talking.

"To simply put it, these folks have gambled... and lost. They've left everythin' and came to a country they've only heard tales of. And now? Now many of 'em got nothing more than what fits in their bags... or on their back." Axiom rose his head, his gaze meeting Lyra's. "Unlike ya', they won't know - nor care -what Everfree is, Boss. They'll be only interested in stuff that gets 'em from one day to the next."

"Ohh." Snowy clapped her front hooves together. "So this is like... knowing your audience, right?"

Don't you act all smug with a phrase you learnt from me! Lyra snorted at the windigo, then nodded thoughtfully. She had no idea how Axiom knew so much, but she trusted his advice. He could have been making the whole thing up for all she knew, but the logic was convincing.

She took a deep breath and resumed her loud monologue.  She steeled her face; she wanted to appear as a weathered pony, one who was talking out of desperation and with the numbing knowledge that she had nothing to lose.

Let's hope I became a better actor since my audit at the Opera, she heard her own nervous giggle inside her head. Here goes nothing...

"They're gonna take your inn away," she popped her eyes open. She looked right through Axiom now, focusing her gaze on random members of the crowd. "They're going to take our place away!"

She didn't kid herself; she couldn't fully grasp what Axiom was saying. Despite her longing to be an actual star, she had never really had to face hardships until she got wrapped up in the game. She could only hope to understand the gist of her role.

These ponies and gryphons around her were basically beggars. Beggars with enough pride to deny the obvious - and with enough cheap alcohol to avoid thinking too deeply about the fact.

I need to get them thinking, Lyra studied the faces closest to her. I need to make them think that they can lose everything... and then promise them something. Make them feel threatened by Sunbutt... and entice them with possible rewards at the same time. 

In spite of her expectations, knowing what she had to do didn't lessen her nervousness.

Easier said than done.

"Why would anypony need this inn?" a voice asked.

"Why couldn't we go to another inn?" another replied, and a loud murmur followed; the noise only stopped when the barkeep cleared his throat. Loudly. Very loudly.

"Because... uh, because this is your inn! OUR inn!" Lyra threw her hooves in the air, balancing solely on her hinds. She felt a little wobbly, but this posture allowed her to rise above the crowd's eye level; she hoped that this made her look more important. "What else do you have if you lose this place, huh?! Tell me!"

Another loud murmur. Much to Lyra's delight, she saw a lot of the surrounding ponies nod in agreement.

"We ain't got nothing either way," somepony spoke up from behind her. "It ain't gonna' matter where we're gettin' kicked out from at closin' hour."

"So are you gonna' let them do as they please?!" came a reply from the opposite direction. Lyra found simply keeping track of the interjections difficult; she was always yanking her head to the loudest speaker, and that quickly proved to be rather disorienting.

"Yea'! Remember the Belly-up Dragon? That was a nice place."

"It was a cheap place!"

"S'why t'was a nice place, ya' doof."

Belly-up Dragon?! Lyra blinked, quickly realising how that was a name she should have been familiar with.

"Y- yeah. And now they're gonna take this place away, too. Just like the Belly-up d... uh, dragon!" she slammed her hoof down on the floor, the loud thud silencing the unruly crowd. "So are you going to just lay low and hope this blows over?!"

"Um... why not? Hasn't that worked so far?"

That meek question got a lot more applause than Lyra hoped it would. She had no choice but to rebuke it.

"Pffft. What, are you going to move from inn to inn, hoping there's always a new one to run to?" she turned to whom she hoped the previous speaker was. "Are you content with kowtowing, running every time the whims of a crowned pony change? Huh?"

"Course' I'm not," the gryphon grumbled. "But what could I do?"

"Oh, I don't know... we could rise up, for example! We could fight!" Lyra motioned at the tied-up monster-hunters. "We could show those crowned fools that even we need our own place! That they can't simply push us around! That we... that even we have a home! And that we will protect it!"

She flinched almost immediately.

Home, huh? You're sure bringing out some big words now, girl. She pulled her mouth, trying to hide the extent of her disappointment. Better hope these hoodlums have no other inns they like as much as this...

Still, her words seemed to hit the right tones. All the ponies and gryphons began chattering all of a sudden, exchanging hurried glances amongst each other.

"Are ya'll OUT OF YER' MINDS?!" a unicorn began to shout. His voice drowned out all others, silencing all the discussion Lyra had managed to spark. "Yer' talkin' about goin' against the state! The Princesses, the Guard! Ya'll gonna' get yerself beaten up and thrown outta' this city, that's all yer' gonna' do!"

Grrr! You just HAD to ruin the mood! Lyra glared at her newest foe. Seriously, why are you so scaredy?! I thought that a mob like this was like a pile of dry leaves! One spark and whoosh, fire everywhere! Why are you acting as if getting into a big fight was-

"Yer' graspin' at the wrong straw, Boss." Axiom sighed loudly, no less than three of his legs rubbing the top of his head. "This lot ain't gonna' care for morals or stuff like places to belong to. Didn't ya' hear me when I said they're livin' from one day to the other?"

Glancing at the spider at her side, Lyra barely managed to subdue the angered retort building behind her lips.

Why don't you give me some good practical examples then, genius?!

"So what if they throw us out?!" a gryphon sprang onto a table, pounding on his chest with his clenched fist. "I came here eight years ago! What did I get here, huh? Freaking grass seven times a week, that's what! How's that any worse than anywhere else?!"

"Think smaller than a pony savin' the world," Axiom mused, the gryphon in the middle of his bittersweet gaze. "If ya' wanna' get this mob to follow ya'... then ya' need to think with their heads. Do ya' think it's a home they really want? Do ya' think they're concerned about being tossed around? Do ya' think they've got any pride left by now?"

Biting onto her lip, Lyra nodded curtly.

"Well, then ya' know where them gates are!" the unicorn hollered at the gryphon. "Me, I'm gonna' stick 'ere! 'Cause while outside ya' may get all the grass for all the rest o' yer' days, here ya' may be able to get more!"

"Because that dream worked out so fine for us, huh?" the gryphon smirked, his whole expression just dripping with sarcasm. "Vanilla, when was the last time you had something with taste? Something so extravagant as a hayburger, huh?"

"Whoa." Snowy reared her head back, blinking in surprise. "They DO think small, don't they?"

"Fufufu... fwhahahahah. AAHAHAHAHAHAH!"

The whole inn fell silent and turned to the source of the loud, borderline-insane laughter; and this once, Lyra did not mind being the focus of dozens of curious stares.

"Haha... hah... haaa... do you know what a party is like in the palace? Forget that, do you have any idea what a simple dinner is like?" she snickered, stumbling to her side as the laughter left her staggering. "There's food everywhere. Tables and tables and tables, rows of them, all full of delicacies... more than you've seen in your entire life."

The crowd erupted into excited whispers, the hushed voices combining into a constant, buzz-like murmur. Lyra decided to let the crowd take its time; she measured them in the meantime, trying to judge them and their reactions. She couldn't help but also study her own reactions, and the immediate result seriously disheartened her.

In the end, she absolutely failed to relate to this riff-raff. It took actual effort to sink this low.

"COME ON!" somepony from the back finally yelled. "We know what those fancy dinners are like! Everypony does!"

You're my colt, Lyra flashed a toothy grin. Just the perfect line for me to reply to!

"HAHAHA! BOORISH FOOL! You have absolutely no idea what a full treat is like!" she cackled as loudly as she could. "You can't even imagine! So many foods and drinks, you couldn't fit them all in this inn! What do you even mean, 'you know'?!"

No murmurs followed this time. Everyone fell quiet, and Lyra was very nervous about all the eyes staring at her in the dead silence.

She gulped and wondered what else she could add - but the previous colt had mercy on her and finally broke the uneasy silence.

"Okay, so I have no idea what I'm talking about. But how would you know better, huh? You're no more noble than any of us."

I'm treating you to a beer! Lyra sighed with a relief. Seriously, you could be a sea serpent and I'd still treat you to a beer! You're saying all the stuff I absolutely need!

"Hmpfh! Shows what you know," she cleared her throat and pulled her head high, channelling all her pride into her posture. "I am... haha, I used to be quite famous, you know!"

A mischievous cackle followed that boast, but deep inside Lyra was already preparing to keep herself from cringing.

They won't know me... because nopony knows who Lyra Heartstrings is. So I'm... not really famous any more, huh...

The confused whispers around her reinforced that thought. It only made sense - Snowy had never failed to erase memories before. Letting up on her prideful pose, Lyra sighed and rubbed the back of her neck, wondering what sort of lie she could make...

Then, all of a sudden, there was no need for her to lie anymore.

"WHOOA!" a gryphon screamed and took a step away from her. "I... I know you! You're a freaking princess!"

If it weren't for the clattering of glass and screeches of tables being pushed around, there would have been dead silence again. The whole crowd retreated a few steps, as if the air around Lyra had became toxic. Then, once they were at a safer distance, they began chattering agitatedly amongst themselves.

"A princess!"

"Yer' kiddin', rite'?!"

"N-no-nonono. I also remember. She kind of disappeared a few years ago though!"

"Seriously?!"

"Yeah, it was kind of a big scandal. Don't you recall? Wait, aren't you drunk?!"

Holding a hoof to her forehead to mask her dejection, Lyra sighed lengthily. She sneaked a peek to the windigo on her right, but Snowy wasn't paying her attention. That was fine, though. The topic could only be brought up later, as Lyra couldn't actually speak to the servant while she was surrounded by commoners.

Oi, Snowy... this lot seems to know me somehow! Lyra wrinkled her brow. Kind of screwed this one up, didn't you?

A bitter smile on her face, Lyra shook her head and immediately returned to a more cheerful façade.

Eh, the cat's out of the bag anyway. Might as well put this blunder to a use.

"Yeah, found me out! Well done, ahaha!" she faked a laughter, and winked to where the crowd seemed the thickest. "I used to live in that palace, until I was made to leave one day! But trust me, you and me... we can get back in there today!"

She carried her gaze around, her smile deepening until only a toothy grin was left on her face.

"Help me out, and I promise you'll get a feast you'll never forget... every day, for the rest of your days."





The decision was fast and completely unanimous. The crowd pledged to follow the unicorn princess wherever she may lead them - and indeed they did, rushing into the street the moment Lyra had left. Even the barkeep followed suit, leaving the completely deserted inn without any sort of supervision.

The almost completely deserted inn, that is.

The monster-hunters were still around, still lying tied-up and unconscious at the base of a wall. Aside from them, only a singular pony was moving; a figure dressed in green cloak, marching to the counter with a slight limp.

Upon reaching the counter, the cloaked pony sighed and grabbed a glass, pouring itself a hearty dose of hard liquor.

"A princess," the Source sighed and held the glass to its forehead. "Of all the things, a princess... seriously!"

The glass offered little help in calming the Source's headache; lacking ice, the drink was lukewarm at best. Rolling its violet-crimson eyes, the game-master changed plans and downed the drink in one go.

That decision was rather easy to regret. What the liquor lacked in taste it made up in strength; a coughing fit took over the Source, the cloaked game-master bending over as it struggled for some air.

I can't believe there are beings who PAY for this thing, the Source shook its head wildly, trying to ignore the burning sensation in its mouth. There were quarantines for liquids half this atrocious back at home.

The ill sensation was thankfully brief, though. The Source cleared its throat and pushed itself away from the counter, its hooves clanging faintly as it made its way to the trapdoor in the corner.

Right... back to work.





"Hoooo... so you're here!"

The Source smirked sourly at Pinkie's greeting. Dust tickled the game-master's nose; the green hood rubbed against the unused pieces of furniture, creating a veritable cloud as the robed pony walked across the dark cellar.

"Took your sweet time to show up," Pinkie giggled. She was sitting in front of a lit fireplace, deep orange outlines flickering around her swivelling-chair. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten about me."

"As if I could," the Source chuckled grimly as it settled next to the swivelling-chair. The fire seemed to be running low; there was barely any firewood left in the pile of darkening ash. "You are one of the hardest things to forget, trust me."

"Aawww. So flattering!" Pinkie rubbed her hooves together excitedly. "We share a special relationship, don't we!"

Hooo, a special relationship you say? The Source's lips turned to a grim smile under the green hood. Well, be my guest. You were the one to bring it up!

"Relationship, huh." The game-master glanced at the pink pony. The hood blocked most of the picture, hiding Pinkie from the neck upwards; but the Source could still tell the pink pony's reaction by body language alone. "Funny you'd mention that. Didn't you know that all relationships end in tears?"

"Ma' and Pa' would beg to differ," Pinkie settled her head onto her hoof, grinning at the hooded game-master.

"...and yet, one day their common story will come to an end," the Source gave a weary sigh. "It has to."

"For an all-knowing god-wannabe, you sure don't know a lot about my parents." Pinkie rolled her eyes. "They're gonna stick together, right to the gra- ohh."

Moving its gaze back to the flickering fire in front of her, the Source allowed itself a dry, sober smile.

Ohh, indeed.

"Still, you never know! Maybe they'll be laughing at the funeral," Pinkie wondered aloud. She didn't even pretend that she wasn't wrecking her mind to come up with a comeback; she rubbed her head so hard that the whole chair rocked around. "I mean, I'd certainly want ponies to remember how happy I lived instead of being all gloomy!"

The Source couldn't help itself; a chuckle made it past the game master's lips.

"Only the happy moments to be remembered, eh? That would be a will quite befitting you," the Source rubbed its head under the hood. The hood obscured such details, but the game master was actually smiling - and struggled mightily to regain its usual indifferent mood.

I can't believe I'm losing my composure, the game-master chided itself. This is the end-game... I should be focused at all times, but now it would be crucial. And yet, even so...

The crimson-violet eyes moved under the hood, sneaking another glance at the pink pony.

Well, I suppose that's why I got you involved in the first place. I wanted to enjoy these chit-chats again. Haha, now that I think about it... this was really foolish of me, wasn't it? Egoistic, even. In my want to abide by my own rules and still get a taste of the old days, I've done something regrettable.

Then the Source closed its eyes and sighed again, conceding the point.

I suppose I am not all that different from Mother, after all... how disillusioning.

Flexing its jaws, the Source made a silent vow to only permit cold rationale from here on out.

"You could use a few happy moments yourself," Pinkie broke the silence, plunging the game-master back to reality. "Seriously, did you ever wonder how ponies will remember you once this is all over? The faceless, always-hooded priestess of gloom... brr."

"Priestess, huh..." the Source chuckled wryly. Then the game-master wrinkled its eyebrows and turned its head to the pink pony, no longer caring if the body language showed. "That's one bold guess, actually."

"Hey, that's just evading the answer!" Pinkie raised her eyebrow, virtually glittering with curiosity. "Don't leave me hanging! Was the guess wrong?"

Pulling on the hood and confident its face was fully veiled, the Source gave that insistent question a toothy grin.

"Priestess... I wonder about that," the game-master mused aloud, careful that the tone remained even. "Priests dedicate themselves to a higher cause that couldn't be explained by ordinary logic... hmm."

"Nopony cares about that!" Pinkie smeared a hoof down her face with a groan. "Priestess, baker, god... that's just a job. Everypony has one and I sure don't care much about them."

Pulling back on the hood so there was a clear view of the pink pony's face, the Source also revealed its befuddled expression.

"Uh... huh? So what was the question about, then?"

"Whether you are a priestess or not, of course!" Pinkie giggled and leaned closer to the dumbstruck game-master.

The Source reared its head back a bit, away from the pink menace; then, once the question fully sunk into its head, the game-master turned its face towards the floor and broke into a short, scornful laughter.

Well, I guess I was worried over nothing. Even if you're Pinkie, you're still a mortal... of course you couldn't comprehend me. Intuition only goes so far.

"I don't get why this is so funny." Pinkie huffed and slumped back into her chair.

"Because that question is even more irrelevant than the previous one," the Source shook its head, its gaze winding up on the flickering fire at last. "As for your answer, Pinkie... I am both a priestess and a priest."

Her head crooked to the side, Pinkie gave the vague answer a disbelieving squint.

"So, that makes you... errr..."

"It makes me none of them. I have transcended beyond such mundane definitions," the Source shrugged. "I am but a vessel now; a hollow shell that functions solely for one purpose. Anything that I had been - dreams, desires, name, gender - I have shed all that unnecessary baggage. They don't serve my purpose, and thus I have no need for them."

"Purpose?" Pinkie echoed in the background. The baker's voice faltered; she was audibly struggling with what she had heard. "Wait, wait. Does you mean that this game served more purpose than your fricking gender? How does that even work?"

"Splendidly," the game-master chuckled and pulled a silver amulet from under the green robe. "It's working splendidly."





The fire crackled loudly, spitting a dozen bright sparks into the air. The smell of burning lacquer lingered in the air; the last piece of firewood had been the leg of an old, worm-eaten table.

"Contrary to what you see, I no longer exist. The me who was no longer is; all that remains is but a vessel." the Source leaned back from the fireplace, the violet-red eyes staring into the fire. For a moment, the game-master saw a grand vision in the dancing flames - or, more likely, echoes of events long past, overlaid onto the flames by its own mind. Then the visions ended, and the Source found its voice again. "But that is okay. Personal effects would only get in the way of my purpose. An instrument can only be effective if it has a singular purpose... a clear purpose."

"Uh... is it just me, or did you really say 'splendid' just a moment ago," Pinkie frowned, lifting her eyes from the silver pendant.

A dry smile flashed underneath the green hood, followed by a flash of magenta. The Source's magic enveloped the amulet, and the trinket flew back to the game-master.

"Everything is going splendidly, yes. This farce of a game shall provide me everything that I need to achieve my purpose," the Source chuckled in a dry, low tone as the glittering amulet floated in front of the green hood. "And as long as my purpose is fulfilled, I will be content. Perhaps happy, even. It wouldn't be impossible, theoretically speaking."

"The game, huh." Pinkie mumbled and moaned as she stretched her legs. "ALLLLLWAYS this stupid game, waah!"

The swivel-chair turned, bringing the pink and the green-robed pony face-to-face. The inquisitive blue and the tired crimson-red eyes locked gazes for a second, then both strayed away; one to the fireplace, the other to the silvery amulet.

"Do I bore you? Well, I suppose I would." The Source sighed and absent-mindedly turned the amulet around. "Even right now, I can hear the left side of my brain screaming how boring my single-mindedness is."

Leaning onto the armrest of her chair, Pinkie stared into the fire with a thoughtful smirk on her face.

"I wouldn't dream of badmouthing you," the pink pony finally exclaimed, turning to the Source as her lips pulled to a sombre grin. "I did the same just now... I gamed Lyra into doing something horrible. Made Axiom promise to do things to her, too..."

"Yes, I have seen those." The Source nodded curtly. "You've been my most helpful... and probably my only willing ally."

The chair creaked as Pinkie leaned backwards, throwing her weight against the backrest.

"Don't speak as if it's over yet," she chuckled with a foreboding tone. "I've resigned from the game... which technically means that I've lost. And I really doubt I'd simply need to roll a six to avoid prison this time."

Absent-mindedly turning the silver pendant again, the Source bit onto its lip.

"You're also the first player to bring up the rules after losing," the game-master put the amulet away with a weary sigh, moving its gaze to the pink pony. "So far everypony wanted to weasel out of the deal, one way or the other."

"Well, that's a shocker - I'm not like most ponies! Quick, get the press!" Pinkie cackled. She didn't seem upset or shaken; she was quite nonchalant, as if the topic was purely theoretical. She cocked her head to the side, her cheek resting on her hoof. "So what will it be? I actually read the paper you had me sign when you gave me Axiom. And you know what? There were some interesting conditions in there! Souls were involved. Soouuullsss."

The Source groaned and turned around, setting its back against the damp bricks. Despite being so near to the fireplace, the wall felt pretty cold.

"Well yes." The game-master sighed. "Normally I would take the defeated player's soul..."

The Source glanced to the floor and rubbed its chin. The magics that formed the Game were extremely powerful and costly, even for a being as powerful as the Source. Were the Source bearing the brunt of the expenses, the game-master's body would have given out long ago. The only solution was making the losing players pay for that privilege they had enjoyed - essentially volunteering themselves to the upkeep of the Game. Magic, life... whatever they had.

Just how could that be explained to a pony as cluelessly innocent as Pinkie, though?

"That sounds so anticlimactic." Pinkie rolled her eyes with a yawn. "I was hoping you were doing something more creative than the clichéd soul-stealing."

The Source clenched its teeth instead of answering. It didn't feel right, using the standard procedure on this pony; but the more the game-master thought about it, the less necessary the usual routine seemed. The Game had produced a candidate which seemed suitable - which meant the whole farce would be ending before long.

If it's for a limited time, I can bear the Game's upkeep all by myself.

Pulling the amulet from beneath the green robe, the Source gave the trinket a thoughtful stare.

"I thought you abided your own rules," Pinkie broke the game-master's trance.

"Do you always try to make your own situation worse?" the Source snorted and snapped its head to the pink pony. "Besides, can't I have not have any other considerations?"

Pinkie leaned forward, a smug grin on her face.

"Other considerations? You, the vessel with a singular purpose?"

Its magic holding the amulet so tight that the silver trinket almost began bending, the Source ground its teeth.

You... are you annoying me on purpose?! Can you not see my anguish?!

"Still worrying so much... you didn't change that much, you know! I mean, if you are who I think you were," Pinkie pulled back into her chair, giggling. "See? I can read you. I figured out your plans with Lyra, too."

"And you think that this would be a good idea?" the Source groaned, shoving the silver amulet into the pink pony's face. "Take a good, hard look at it. If I do what I should be doing... then you won't be seeing anything other than that for a long, LONG while."

"Shouldn't be saying, 'but the rules are rules'?" Pinkie pushed the amulet away from her face. "Besides, we both know you need me. Lyra isn't that smart on her own... she's not terribly dense, but she needs the help time to time."

Hopping out from the chair and landing a mere step away from the Source, Pinkie brought out a toothy grin, her expression amplified by the shadows the flickering fire cast onto her face.

"So why won't you let me help you? Aren't we friends?"

The Source didn't recoil this once. The game-master hummed, then finally brought the amulet back into its grasp.

"You're completely correct. I think... that I will take you up on this offer." The Source sighed. "Would you terribly mind having a flashy exit? I would love speeding this game towards conclusion."





"FREE DRINKS AT THE PALACE!" shouted a dark-brown feathered gryphon, her words accented by the loud clanging she made with a bell. "FREE DRINKS AT THE PALACE!"

Walking some twenty steps ahead and rolling her eyes in absolute dismay, Lyra wondered just what she was doing. The message of 'fight for your equal share' had morphed into 'fight to liberate all the kegs in the palace cellar', and she couldn't really do anything about the blunder. By this point, her small party had swollen to almost five times the size, and there were even more joining the herd at each intersection.

Oi, oi, oi... I feel like I'm stuck in an avalanche, she glared at the noisy crowd following - and sometimes surrounding - her. Still, there isn't anyone trying to so much as look funny at me. I guess it could be worse-

"THE PRINCESS IS WITH US!" a pony behind her screamed, immediately breaking her chain of thoughts. "THE PRINCESS IS GIVING ALL OF US FREE WINE!"

Oi! I'm pretty sure I promised none of that! Does the palace even have wine cellars? There was never any wine at the popular events... so I guess not, Lyra sighed, then snickered grimly to herself. Well, I can see a lot of drunkards getting disappointed once we take the palace.

Loud cheers erupted from a side-street on the left; glancing there, Lyra briefly caught a glimpse of a band of ponies, all waving mugs at her. Then she was pushed onwards by the ponies behind her, and she lost sight of the odd company. No big loss; she only cared that they weren't a band of assassins waiting to bash her head in.

So an army of drunkards beats a well-woven trap, she giggled to herself, her glassy eyes fixed to the cobblestones of the street below. Kinda hope things won't spiral out of control before I can get the servants, though.

"Boss."

Squinting to her right, Lyra noticed a big spider appear out of the crowd and take its place at her side.

"Boss, this ain't gonna' go so well if ya' keep yer' mouth shut." Axiom dodged a barrel that got in the way, all the while keeping his many eyes on his master. "The rumours are gettin' more vicious by the minute. At this rate, all these beggars' are gonna' be expecting ya' to make a prince of 'em by the end of this day."

A loud chuckle burst out of Lyra before she could help herself. The mere thought was amusing - she was a princess in nothing but title, so the thought of her granting the same title was barely anything other than pure nonsense.

Then she wrinkled her brows and started wondering in earnest.

So... are there any reasons I couldn't do just that?

By the end of the day, she could be the closest thing to an actual God. Either that or she would be dead - but in that case she needn't worry about her promises, so that was equally good as far as her conscience was concerned. In the case of her still being alive by sunset, she had already defeated Luna and Celestia and had acquired almost all servants; with that much power, crowning thousands of princes and princesses was nothing to worry about.

Meh. Might as well make everypony a royal while I'm at it.

Thinking about it, she did recall something like creating a perfect world. Surely everypony being their own lords would be a necessary part of that ideal.

"Seriously?! YER' A PRINCESS?!" an earth pony jumped in front of Lyra, blocking her path and breaking her out of her musing. "Why didn't cha' ever show up before?!"

"Because what I'm about to do would really shake up the status quo," Lyra grinned at the earth pony.

"Sta... whaaa?" the earth pony scratched his head, staining his mane with the grime that was covering the street. The rest of the crowd barely stopped moving; the closest ones noticed the interesting discussion though, and soon Lyra and the other pony were in the middle of a large, and quite colourful soup of individuals - all of which were waiting for the reply of the Unicorn Princess.

"I'm going to give you much more than the wine in the palace," Lyra smirked and carried her gaze around quite theatrically. "I'm going to give the whole palace to you."

The crowd broke into a murmur, then elevated their reaction to a jovial cheer.

Only the earth pony in front of Lyra looked unimpressed.

"I dun' geddit," he kept scratching the top of his head. "What'd I even do with a palace?"

"Whatever you want," Lyra shrugged. It didn't matter if that one pony didn't understand, as long as the rest did. "I'm going to make all of you your own lords, you see."

The reactions immediately started flooding in from all directions.

"We're... we're gonna be royals?"

"Not just royals! Lords, even!"

"I'm... I'm really gonna' get a house? I don't even need a palace... but I will have my own house, right?!"

"You idiot! You could have your own estate! All lords have estates!"

Standing in the middle of the crowd and basking in the attention she was receiving, Lyra was pretty sure that she had gotten the lot under her control. They would surely follow her obediently - and all she had to do was give them promises beyond their wildest dreams.

No way they could come up with anything more outlandish than this, she sighed even as she forced a proud façade. I'm really going to need those godly powers now, though. Frig.

Claws touched her back, a little more forcefully than she had grown accustomed to in the thick crowd. Turning around, Lyra saw an orange-white gryphon facing her.

"That's good and everything, but seriously... where have you been for all these years?!"

"I, uh... I..." Lyra mumbled, quickly realising that she had absolutely no idea why she had been hiding her royal title for so long. It was time for plan B, then; coming up with something easy and easily believable, that is. "I was hiding. The powers that be don't like my idea, you see?"

"Pffft!"  The gryphon rolled his eyes. "Princess Lyra, I'm sorry, but that's the most blatant lie I've ever heard. I've been living in this city for twenty years now - and even I know that if the powers that be don't like you, then all they do to you is not give you any free money. This is hardly a reign of terror."

"Yea'," a unicorn directly behind the gryphon nodded. "Celestia ain't THAT bad. She wouldn't-"

Lyra didn't hear any beyond that word. A bright flash caught her attention; but by the time she turned to the source, all she saw was a wall of dust speeding towards her. She barely had enough time to close her eyes before the shockwave hit. The massive air current swept her off her hooves; she tumbled helplessly, finally bouncing off the cobblestones and landing upside-down, her head resting on another pony's belly.

Even though fully sensate, she had absolutely no idea regarding the last few seconds.

Wha... what was that? What in Tartarus happened?

"Is Master all right? That was an explosion just now!" she heard Snowy cry out. The windigo's voice came from close, and Lyra found that fact very reassuring.

You wouldn't let anything happen to me, Lyra gave the windigo a tired smile. Yeah... I'll be okay as long as you're here.

Such was her relief that she barely even noticed when a torn gryphon began yelling next to her.

"The inn...! I think the inn just exploded!"
> 43 - Crazy He Calls Me
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lyra gathered herself from the pavement with a pained groan. Despite being mid-afternoon, night seemed to have descended onto Canterlot; the alleyway was shrouded in darkness. There was nothing supernatural about the dim lightning, though. Glancing around, Lyra found herself in an all-permeating grey fog. Fine dust floated everywhere. It blotted the sun out, covered every surface. It also worked its way into her coat and scraped at her throat with every breath she took.

Despite the vague inkling that she was still in a life-threatening situation, Lyra's most immediate thought was how dirty everything became. Even the gritty cobblestones looked uglier.

What a mess, she frowned and rubbed her forehead. She was mildly disoriented, her ears still ringing. It was quite disheartening how she had no difficulty recalling that particular sensation.

It's just like after Twilight teleported me to the palace garden. What did she say... a difference in pressure or something?

Squinting at the fog, a sober chuckle left Lyra's mouth.

Well, an entire building exploding would indeed do that I guess.

"What a lowly trick!" Snowy sneered, shaking her translucent hoof roughly in the direction the inn used to be. "I did not expect somepony as esteemed as a princess to sink to such depths!"

Glancing at the windigo, Lyra raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"As if we were playing fair ourselves," she mumbled and popped her neck by rolling her head around. "Let it go. All is fair in love and war."

"True, but Master isn't a princess." Snowy turned to her, then gasped and yanked her hooves in front of her mouth. "I- I mean, of course Master is a princess! I... uh, I'm just not used to the fact yet!"

"That's 'cause she ain't," came a low, grumbling voice from the side, shortly followed by Axiom creeping into view. "I only made everypony think she is."

"You WHAT!" Lyra snapped to the spider, then burst into a fit of coughing. The dusty air did her no favours.

Axiom wasn't really shaken by his master's fury. He gave the pony a hard look, all his yellow eyes glittering for a few moments; then he imitated a shrug, using six of his legs to bounce his torso up and down. 

"T'was the only way to get these hoodlums to follow ya'," he growled and turned away. "What, did ya' really think ya' could just talk yer' way through?"

Her teeth sinking into her lip, Lyra looked away just the same. It was naive to expect Axiom act as a faithful servant just because Pinkie had asked him to, of course... but Lyra still didn't expect the spider to be so unruly.

Keh! It's like he has his own agenda, she ground her teeth, then rolled her eyes when the realisation struck. Well duh... of course he would. He's a servant who has played this game for thousands' of years. I'm probably his what, many dozenth master?

Thinking about that for a moment, another servant popped into Lyra's mind - the one of Chrysalis. That dragon had been content to watch their fight from a distant rooftop, even as her master had been being undone before her very eyes. 

Sneaking a glance to the windigo sitting next to her, Lyra gave a sly smirk. It had never occurred to her before, but being largely absent of memories had made Snowy far more reliable than any other servant.

Talking about reliable...

The mob that accompanied her was strangely quiet. She could clearly hear the debris raining down on the nearby rooves, pieces of brick and mortar clanging loudly against the ceramic tiles. All the gryphons and ponies around Lyra were silent, staring into the fog with the same disbelieving stare. Lyra wasn't sure how to categorise their reaction. It certainly wasn't panic... bur rather looked like awe, mixed with curiosity and astonishment.

Well, at least they aren't in a rush to leave me, she sighed in relief. Guess I should take this situation under control before they can change their minds, huh?

As it was only those drunkards standing between her and a number of hitponies, making her followers stick around felt like a rather urgent topic.

"Barkeep..." she squinted to the left, at the old gryphon. She was fresh out of ideas, so it was time for the tried-and-proven plan B: doing something stupid instead. "What the heck were our drinks made of?"

The nearby bystanders immediately broke into a faint chuckle and turned to the gryphon as well. No-one took the accusation very seriously though - not even the accused.

"Esto estaba cerca!" he shrugged, his voice solely hinting at relief.

This was... close, Lyra mumbled to herself, quickly translating. Well, duh.

"Too close for my liking!" a pegasus thundered, wildly shaking his head to get the thick dust out of his mane. "Were we still in that inn...!"

The crowd broke into a loud choir of murmuring, generally sounding very much in line with that statement. Generally.

"This couldn't have been Celestia!" a high-pitched voice shrieked from the back. "This isn't like her!"

"Like, not at all!" came the reply from somewhere else, the source lost to the swirling, dusty fog.

Note to self: if I ever become an evil overlord, I'll have to make sure I have some ungodly good PR. Lyra rolled her eyes. Seriously! She just blew your inn up, and you're STILL thinking she's the fancy princess who she makes you think she is?!

The formerly silent crowd rapidly turning into a loud mess around her, Lyra vented her frustration by kicking a pebble away. Such was the power of belief! Celestia could have personally walked into the inn, placed the kegs of gunpowder and lit the fuse... and the witnesses would still doubt their own eyes.

Such obvious injustice was too much. It kept gnawing away at Lyra with every thought, right until she felt like a furnace ready to erupt in smoke and anger. Her face ached; she was forcing herself to look indifferent so gard that her muscles started to cramp.

"I've lived here for longer than how old you actually are! I know that explosions are not how the princesses work!"

"Yeah, well... let's ask the thugs she hired! Oh right - we can't, 'cause they're in ITSY BITSY TINY PIECES NOW!"

The arguments didn't seem to ebb. The discussions gained power and loudness if anything, and soon Lyra's ears were ringing with the screaming of ponies in her proximity.

Well, so much for my brilliant plan... that I came up with in five seconds! she flashed her teeth, angrily rubbing her eyes. The dust and the noise made an annoyingly effective combination, assaulting all her senses at the same time, compounding her already complicated situation. I'll be lucky if these fools don't start fighting each other... and the Guard hasn't even shown up yet. Bet my assassins are already watching too, just waiting for these idiots to disperse. Ugh.

"Shouldn't look that annoyed." Axiom chuckled. The spider moved to the top of a bench, the cleanest part of the disaster zone. "It ain't that surprising - an unruly mob is gonna' be unruly. They ain't gonna' become a united force just 'cause ya' promised 'em something. They'd follow ya', sure... but only for their own good. On their own terms, ya' could say."

Both Lyra and Snowy turned to the spider, both master and servant doing the same motion - rubbing their chins with their hooves.

"So we have an army of greedy beggars, basically." Snowy spoke up first, slowly massaging her translucent forehead.

"For their own good, huh." Lyra hummed faintly, her amber eyes resting on the arguing crowd. "I guess being blown to bits doesn't rank too high with them, right?"

"Really surprisin'... ain't it, Boss." Axiom rolled his eyes. He was trying to wipe the bench clean, but his ghostly legs failed to stir the dust; he snorted scornfully at the realisation.

He was not the only one scorning. Lyra wore a similar expression; but her mood shifted gradually, and she was soon biting her lip in thinly veiled excitement. She finally turned back to her servants, eyeing both the spider and the windigo with a toothy grin.

"What do you think - how many of them are around?"

Neither servants were in a hurry to answer. They stared at each other for a bit, blinking and visibly confused; then they turned back to their master and shrugged in unison.

"Lots?"

"Gee, thanks." Lyra rolled her eyes, then pointed a hoof at Snowy. "Whatever! Snowy, make these hoodlums forget some nice things Sunbutt did. No charity, no giving free money to the poor, no pardons on Heart's Warming Eve."

Snowy produced her most reluctant nod yet.

"I... uh, can do that... but what will happen to Master? There are a lot of ponies around, and Master may forget..."

"Axiom will keep an eye on me and tell me if I'm going nuts," Lyra yanked her gaze to the other servant. "And in the meantime, he can also fabricate a few memories of our princess being an absolutely terrible ruler. For a spider who has lived that long, I'm sure he has some reference to work with."

"This wise, Boss?" Axiom snorted and crossed his legs just under his face. "What of your godhood? Sane godhood, I mean."

"It'll be fine... I'll just keep it short and to the point. Certainly not gonna' remain a god long enough to give my insane side any chances," Lyra smirked wryly, then motioned at the arguing crowd. "Besides, we're taking risks no matter what I do now. It's either going nuts or having this lot leave me to fend on my own. What are my chances against two princesses and a whole army, again?"

Axiom wasn't immediately satisfied by the answer. He made a face - but his expression lightened by the moment, and he pulled out his quill and parchment before long.

"Sure stumbled into one nice dead-end shady alleyway, Boss."





It was the loudest march Lyra had ever participated in. Rows and rows and rows of everything - ponies, gryphons, even two diamond dogs. Lyra had absolutely no idea which hole those could have crawled out from, but she didn't pay them much mind. A brief erasure of memories followed by a similarly speedy introduction of her fake Princess persona, and even those lumbering bipeds were as loyal as any other member of her newly created army.

If anything, she felt a little uneasy at how simple it was to brainwash them into following her. Devaluing lives never seemed simpler.

It's not all doom and gloom though, she calmed herself as she yanked her gaze away from the tall figures. It was the first time she had seen diamond dogs and ponies get along that well, both parties unified by a mutual desire.

Everyone wanted to ransack the palace of the hated monarchy. Marching at the forefront of the snarling and shouting crowd, Lyra could almost see the headlines of tomorrow - the articles describing the end of an era, the emotional writings further empowered by the images of a burning Canterlot. Perhaps a few pictures of her as well, the unexpectedly re-emerging unicorn princess who sparked the whole rebellion.

She couldn't help but cringe at the prospect.

I sure hope my godly powers will be sufficient to put this genie back into the bottle.

There wasn't much time to ponder on the issue, though. A new group of bystanders reached her ever-growing legion... and in the distance, at the end of the street, she could finally see some different kinds of houses. White buildings which almost glittered in the sunshine, their pure colours barely tarnished by the lingering dusty fog.

"Looks fancy," Snowy purred next to her, and Lyra nodded curtly, licking her lips. They were about to wander into Canterlot proper.

No stopping this wave now, she chuckled grimly and cleared her throat.

"FOR OUR PURE AND BLUE WORLD!" she boomed her age-old battle cry and rushed forward.

Only a tiny voice whispered in the back of her head, trying to question just what that phrase could have possibly stood for... or where it could have originated from. It didn't seem to stand for anything. Adrenaline kicked in right afterwards though, washing all such doubts away.





Lyra quickly learned to hate being a princess. She was supposed to lead and inspire; she understood that much. She was to set a good example, a beacon the lesser underlings could imitate; that was all well. 

It was a pity that being a role-model had forced her into acts that were reckless at best... and downright self-destructive at worst.

She was the first to appear from the shady alleyway. The sun blinded her for a moment, and she silently chuckled; were she her opponent, she would have set an ambush right there. Spears, arrows, rocks, spikes; whatever she would have had at her disposal. Forget about aiming, just send volley after volley into the narrow street! She would be lying in her own blood before she could so much as gasp... and even if the shots missed her by some astronomic luck, the densely packed rows of the rag-tag misfits would have suffered horrible losses all the same.

But, thankfully, nothing such happened. She burst into the sunlit street completely uneventfully. She celebrated the fact with a relieved sigh, but there was no stopping. She charged onwards, the rest of her rag-tag army following without any concern for the possible dangers. Dozens and dozens emerged from the shadows, the dusty-dirty figures charging into the sparkling daylight to the thundering noise their very own steps made.

Somehow the picture made Lyra's heart pound with a tinge of pride. All those ponies, gryphons, diamond dogs and whatnot... they were her followers, in all interpretations of the word. She was certain they would stand by her; that they would follow her to the end of the world, as long as she showed them how to get there. She may have had misgivings about those ruffians themselves, but she had no reason to doubt their zeal.

The zeal her very own actions had sprouted. Sure, those actions were a lie - but in that moment, that didn't really matter.

Vaulting over a potted plant, Lyra gave the thought a wicked grin. She understood why everypony wanted to be a princess. The title may have promised a short life, but that sensation was certainly worth the risk. To be in the front, to lead... 

To see her own actions change the world.

That feeling didn't go away either - not even when the colourful row of armoured ponies showed up at the distant end of the avenue.





"Soldiers!" Snowy barked a warning. She landed right next to Lyra, effortlessly picking up her master's pace. "Too many to count... hundreds. Maybe thousands, even."

Biting her lip and lowering her head, Lyra's initial reaction was to grumble a faint curse. She didn't cut back on the pace, however. She couldn't allow herself to be humbled; and even if she had to sink to such lows, she wouldn't do so right in front of her believers.

Focus. Gotta' stay focused, she berated herself for the momentary wavering. Right... Snowy has fancy eyesight, almost photographic memory and can do ridiculous acrobatics.

"Hit the rooftops," Lyra motioned upwards with her nose. "Check 'em out better. Get me some details!"

"Is Master seriously going to engage them?" Snowy frowned, her translucent face betraying growing uneasiness. "I know Master has fared well against the changelings, but-"

"Changelings? Who even cares about those?" Lyra furrowed her forehead, then shook her head and barked her order. "No time for nonsense! Recon the force ahead, stat!"

Her mouth left wide open, Snowy nodded silently and vaulted into the air. She landed on a name plate before turning into blue mist, the sentient plume rising to the red tiled roof above.

She's so ditzy sometimes, Lyra growled. She didn't enjoy the windigo's antics all the time; right now, she needed her efforts focused on getting her force into fighting shape. She shouldn't have to ponder just why Snowy would talk about fighting changelings - when everypony knew that Lyra had made her name by clearing the gryphons from the southern deserts! Who cared about a few bugs when she stopped entire armies in their tracks?

I swear, that stupid ghost... every foal learns about my deeds in school! I had single-hoovedly ended the Third Gryphon War-

The horseshoes on her hooves kicking sparks, Lyra skidded on the stony pavement, barely in control of her motion. Her instincts proved victorious: she managed to stop, and very suddenly at that.

So suddenly that the closest ponies couldn't react in time.

They didn't crash into her, but only due to the virtue of them going out of their way to not harm her. Two pegasi took to the air with panicky beats of their wings; the earth ponies scattered in all directions, opting to collide with other ponies instead of touching the unicorn princess.

Lyra recognised those efforts with a numb nod, her thoughts completely elsewhere.

The Third Gryphon War... every foal knows about it, right? The last actual war Equestria had.

She made a face and rubbed the side of her head. She hadn't had the best of all history teachers, but she distinctly recalled the plays about the heroes of that war. She remembered all the complicated music sheets... the many sleepless nights. That she had a lot of issues getting the tones right.

Music? Huh. I used to... play music? she chuckled grimly, her hoof firmly planted against the side of her head. Irrelevant! Those plays... those are important! They were about heroes of long past, I'm sure of it. And I'm... I'm young, aren't I? I'm pretty sure that I should be young. I haven't lived that long.

Slamming her hoof against the pavement, Lyra looked around with an irritated glare. All the ponies and gryphons retreated from her burning gaze,  but she couldn't see the single being she was interested in catching: an oversized spider who was in for some really stern talking.

There's no way I could have fought in that war, Lyra seethed silently, still scanning the crowd, still in vain. Oi, Axiom... just how badly have you broken me already?! The princess who isn't one, the general who fought in a war that ended centuries before she was born... what else of me is not me?!

"Why did we stop?"

Jolting like a thunderstruck pony, Lyra yanked her head towards the voice. She found herself staring down a strangely quiet crowd; all the gazes were focused on her, all the faces looking surprised.

She broke into sweat. She opened her mouth, and promptly realised that her throat felt incredibly dry. There was really no good reason for the halt, especially when they were advancing on the soldiers. She had thrown their momentum away and had nothing to show for it. She had increased the casualties in the best case - or lost the whole battle, in the worst.

She was about to dish out some faltering, half-hearted excuse when blind fortune decided to give her a pass.

"There's a pony marching in front of the rest!" Snowy shouted from above. "He has some REALLY fancy armour... and a white flag!"

"Form up! Make a line!" Lyra began yelling, acting as if her momentary stupor was just her coming up with a strategy. "There IS going to be a battle, and I expect all of you to do your best... but I'll try to strike a deal first."





"Well, that was stupid." Axiom moaned. "Parley... Boss, do ya' seriously expect these folks to simply see ya' and sell their princess out?"

Her amber eyes rolling in their sockets, Lyra consciously ignored the spider. She had nothing to say to servant who made her doubt all of her memories. Had Snowy been less chatty, she wouldn't have even noticed.

"It's worth hearing them out, though." Snowy answered in her master's stead. "It's possible they don't really know whom they are serving."

"It's also possible they know and plain don't care." Axiom folded his front-most legs in the air. "We had the momentum. Giving up on that, just for a flimsy chance... if that ain't showing weakness, then I ain't no idea what is."

Glaring at the spider, Lyra decided that she had heard enough. Her mind was made up anyway - Axiom simply couldn't be right.

"Victory has no smell. Nopony will care how we came out on top as long as we did," Lyra shot an angered glare at the spider. "Besides, we all know there is no argument I could lose against mortals. I will convince anypony as long as I'm given the chance to talk."

Snowy glanced to the side, chuckling lightly; Axiom, on the other hoof, was less pleased with the answer.

"Whatever ya' say, Boss." He shrugged and took a few steps away from Lyra, moving into the shade of a larger bench. "Whatever happened to not overusing our powers, I wonder."

Always saying what's convenient for you, Lyra snarled, then shook her head with a dry snicker. It was partly her fault, so deeply trusting a ghost who baked false memories for a living. I- whoa.

Loud banging of armoured hooves demanded her attention. The armoured colt had already approached her to the distance of ten steps, at which point he stopped and slammed the lower end of his flagstaff against the ground.

Quickly scanning the colt, Lyra dryly noted that the 'flag' was really just a pike with a bedsheet tied to it... but the pony holding the makeshift device was much more deserving of her attention. She recognised the face under the silver helmet.

You...! She tried to keep herself from making a face. YOU of all ponies...!

"Shining Armour, acting captain of the Canterlot garrison!" the colt announced himself, taking a firm stance.

Lyra couldn't help herself; a guttural chuckle left her mouth before she reigned herself in. 

"Like I wouldn't know you!" she grinned, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She knew the style was rash; but there was no point in being overly considerate after how she had introduced herself. "You're the one who doomed my town."

"Look, I understa-" Shining Armour sighed - then abruptly stopped, his head drooping to the side. "I'm sorry, but what was that?"

"That accursed wedding! It was yours, wasn't it? The one with Princess Cadence." Lyra widened her grin, even going as far as to wink slyly at the shocked captain. "All the soldiers were ordered back here so you two would have a perfect time. So, captain... do you have any idea how many have died for those happy moments?"

The pike faltered, and the weight of the white blanket dragged the weapon to the ground. Shining Armour stood frozen, so shocked that he visibly forgot about the situation he was in.

As far as Lyra cared, it was somewhat reassuring to see him being like that.

There was the case of vengeance, of course. Lyra understood that Shining was an unwitting pawn at best - but she couldn't help but feel somewhat happy about his unease anyway. It also felt nice to pressure him without resorting to obvious lies; Lyra remembered the scenes of carnage, even though she wasn't sure whether she could really trust herself on those. She remembered the gryphon units moving into town, torching buildings and killing civilians... but she also knew that such scenes could have only happened many centuries ago.

Snowy had mentioned changelings, but Lyra barely recalled that encounter. She remembered about a dozen grandiose battles, the scale of the armies such that they had blotted out the sky; the very earth shaking under the thundering hooves, the humbling sight of the mighty siege machines. There was no place left for changelings in those glorious moments. No, the only changelings she recalled were those she had found ransacking a small town... but the details of that encounter were lost on her. It hadn't seemed like an important fight - she had fought without her retinue, after all. No general would have gone into an important battle so unprepared.

And yet, at the same time, she couldn't forget about that minor squabble either. There was something that touched her heart every time her mind stumbled over the memory. There was something very important in that battle... something so important that her heart refused to forget about it. Her mind may have forgotten, but her feelings refused to die off.

Something heartfelt, something tragic... something chilly.

Something frightening.

Looking down at her slightly raised hoof, Lyra wondered just what she was trying to remember so desperately. Why did an otherwise unimportant band of changelings burn into her memories so badly? Why did remembering make her shiver so much?

So cold...

A loud clang broke through the thin veil of distant memories, and Lyra snapped to attention. The noise was Shining coming to; he shook his head, and by the time his head stopped moving, his gaze was focused on Lyra.

"I won't deny anything; I did hear the rumours. But I was also told that they were... unfounded," he mumbled. His composure was gone, his stance well matching his faltering voice. That weakness, while plain visible, was mostly temporary though. He shook himself and returned to standing strong, but it was clear he remained affected. His voice was quite different compared to that of a few seconds ago; his matter-of-fact calmness was gone, replaced by something Lyra could only identify as anger. Repressed and in check for now, but definitely showing already.

"So what really happened? Tell me. I want to hear."

Hoo... so righteous. A knight in shining armour, indeed. Lyra narrowed her eyes, piecing together the various emotions Shining showed. I could help you with your conscience, you know... make you repay your debt.

The gears in her head turning, Lyra sneaked a glance behind. The rag-tag bunch behind had some obvious issues; instead of getting into a solid line as she had ordered, those ponies looked more intent on forming loudly squabbling groups, debating only Equestria knew what. They were in a stark contrast with Shining's soldiers, who had already formed into a splendid formation: three rows of pike-ponies in the front, facing down the unruly mob with stern determination.

Lyra weighed the chances in her head. She was certain that the truth was different from the looks; she still expected the pampered soldiers to turn tail first. Yet, at the same time, she was sure that breaking their morale would be more difficult with Shining around. It would a costly battle.

No, Lyra quickly corrected herself and squeezed her eyelids. It would be a proper battle.

Memories flashed in her mind. She wasn't sure if they were really hers, but that distinction didn't make much difference this time. The pictures she saw - the scenes - they repulsed her. She understood what a proper war was. She saw the consequences, and she wanted to avoid it... if possible.

She wanted to keep winning without fighting.

She shook her head and gave Shining an almost pleasant-looking smile.

If I can make this choice... then I don't want to fight you.

"What do you think could have happened?" she giggled, placing a hoof in front of her mouth. "Aren't you a soldier yourself, captain? Surely you could imagine."

"I had no hoof in that recall order. I thought it was needless and... ugh." Shining slid his armoured hoof down his face with a heavy sigh. "Was it as bad as the rumours say?"

"Depends which rumours you listened to. Me? I saw a bunch of ponies get sucked clean of life." Lyra shrugged. Her voice rang hollow. It didn't seem right; it only felt proper that she would say those words utterly heartbroken.

Where is this confounding feeling coming from?!

Flinching a little, Lyra forced herself to refocus on Shining. She forced a fake little smile, and asked the obvious question.

"How bad would that rank?"

"Pretty bad." Shining frowned. He sat down and took his helmet off, burying his face in his hooves. "This... this isn't what I was told. Haha, I... ah, heck. What could I even say?"

Observing the strange captain up close, Lyra subdued her honest smile. It made her feel unclean, but she couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised. She had always pictured Captain Shining as the pompous, self-absorbed noble most highly-ranked soldiers were. It was reassuring to see the actual captain easily disproving all those assertions.

For all it's worth, I'm really sorry for doing this. Lyra grit her teeth, flexing her face. But this is for the greater good. You're a good pony, you really are. If I could tell you everything... I'm pretty sure you'd understand.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you," she sighed. She sat down next to the other unicorn with a muffled groan, whipping out one of her more pleasant faces. "I'm Lyra. Princess Lyra Heartstrings. Nice to meet you... is what I'd like to say, were we under other circumstances."

"Princ... ess?" Shining muttered and bumped his head forward. "Don't think I'm earning brownie points with this but... I don't think I've heard of you before."

"Oh, it's not your fault. I was hiding so far!" Lyra grabbed her hoof in front of her mouth and gave a loud, obviously forced laugh. Then she moved the hoof and pointed in the distance, at the run-down houses. A large plume of grey smoke was still hovering over the area, still visible but dissipating. "I had some reasons to not reveal myself, you see."

Frowning for a second, Shining gave that answer a curt nod.

"I take that explosion wasn't you, then."

"Do I look like a pony who wants to blow herself to pieces?" Lyra giggled and stretched her front legs in the air.

"True enough," Shining sighed wearily, then returned to hiding his face behind hooves. "Was it an accident, then? Please tell me there were no casualties. I wouldn't want ponies dying because I wasn't in the right place... again."

Grinning openly, Lyra knew she had the perfect response to that one.

"Oh, but you are in the right place all right!" she cocked her head to the side, grinning expectantly. "You can protect me! Save me from the evil tyrant that has been trying to kill me."

Shining was too shocked to reply right away. He stared blankly for a while, then shook his head with jagged motions, finally rubbing his mane and leaning closer as if to inspect Lyra.

"Tyrant...?"

"The pony who has chased me for so long, always trying to kill me... assassins, explosions. Even changelings." Lyra gave a bitter smile. She closed her eyes and turned her nose towards the sky, enjoying the little wind that ran through her mane. "Your wedding, ordering all the troops there; I'm sorry that I accused you with that. You were convenient to lash out at, but I really should have known better. You have no motive."

Shining made a face and turned away. His resolve was obviously in tatters; he hummed loudly and rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

"That sounds bad." He finally exclaimed, in a hushed, dry tone. "All right... we should tell Celestia about this. She needs to know-"

A loud, shrill laughter cut him off. The noise was loud enough to make not just him, but all other ponies, gryphons and other assorted bystanders turn towards there - both the rag-tag crowd and the army of Guards stared at Lyra in silent unison.

"She is the one trying to kill me!" she cackled, leaning towards Shining until he began backing away, his discomfort plain obvious. "Captain, that audience you seek... that would be the end of me. You would only deliver me to my doom."

"NONSENSE!" Shining Armour sprang to his hooves with a loud shout. "I know Celestia, and she would NEVER do something like that! She wouldn't even think of such things! She is the most pure of all ponies in Equestria, and I won't stand you slandering her!"

Lyra wasn't particularly bothered by the outburst. She remained sitting, only moving so she could pay the captain a toothy grin.

"You're really like your sister, you know. This little tirade... it's like I heard her talking for a moment," she mused, paying care to speak aloofly and with the right dose of sarcasm. "Blind faith must run in the family. I wonder if you will wind up like she did, mmm."

"Sister?" Shining gave a scornful grimace. "What are you talking about? I have no sister."

"You do. You simply fail to remember." Lyra exhaled loudly with a pondering expression. "Damnatio memoria... erasing a pony from all remembrance. A fate truly worse than death."

Shining took his time to respond. He narrowed his eyes and hummed to himself, then finally turned away as he broke into a chuckle.

"I can't believe I trusted you!"

"Think! Think deeply and try to remember." Lyra grinned to the back of the captain. "Only the memories directly related to your sister are gone - the rest are intact. Your past is a mess, but you failed to pick up on it! Details! Focus on the details and you'll see that I am right."

Shining didn't move, but he clearly took the advice. He hung his head low; even his ears his dipped, his self-control waning as he retreated into his memories. That was good enough for Lyra, who gave the development a relieved sigh. She had already suffered enough of fragmented memories to know both how to spot them, and how a fellow sufferer would react.

"What details should I look for?" Shining glanced back at her, cracking an eye open. "I'm giving you your fair chance, but... but I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

Putting a hoof to her chin, it was Lyra's time to ponder. She had to be careful with her suggestions. Too bad she barely knew anything about Shining or Twilight - no matter what she said, she was gambling blindly.

"Master..." Snowy purred from the sideline.

If only I picked a different lie... Lyra frowned at the windigo. But, it's still not hopeless. No need to reset this little chat just yet.

"Ask 'im how he met Cadence," Axiom groaned from the bench.

Raising an eyebrow, Lyra gave the spider a suspicious look. Why Cadence of all ponies?

"Twilight often came to Boss... eh, old Boss's place." Axiom murmured, looking away. "I heard enough stories."

Lyra gave the explanation a curt nod. With nothing better to go with, she opted on trusting the spider.

"Think of Cadence." She returned her gaze to Shining. "Can you remember how you two met?"

The good captain's jaw almost hit the floor.

"How do you even KNOW of that?" he stammered, then slapped himself on the face and turned back to Lyra. "Who told you?!"

"Isn't it rude to answer a question with a question?" Lyra smirked and raised her eyebrows higher, signalling 'come on now, I'm waiting'. 

"Hrmpfh. Well, you seem to already know anyway." Shining huffed and looked away in discomfort. "Cadence came around to help my parents out. They were busy at work, so we needed somepony to foalsit-"

The abrupt silence and the shocked face were all that Lyra needed. She got up from the floor and giggled to herself, knowing Shining Armour just ran onto a memory-landmine. She knew the feeling; she knew it all too well. She made her way to the paralysed captain, fighting with her sense triumph at each step.

"Can't think of anypony who needed to be foalsat, huh?" she whispered into the Shining's ear once she was close. "There's no need to be ashamed, captain... this simply shows that your memories have been tampered with. It's not your fault."

The soothing words were in vain. Shining Armour collapsed with a loud clang, covering one eye with a hoof. The soldiers in the distance visibly jolted at the scene, but weren't provoked into attacking just yet.

They aren't very far from doing something stupid though, Lyra noted sourly. She had to hurry.

"Now that I think about it... we had always ordered a table for four. I know because Dad used to make jokes about how it's a lucky number," Shining mumbled softly, swaying his head with unsteady motions. "I... I remember my hunt for magical books just before Heart Warming's Eve... but why? Nopony in the family is a magician. I..."

Tearing her gaze away from the agitated-looking soldiers, Lyra decided that she had hammered this iron long enough. Whatever part of her had wanted vengeance, it was now satiated.

It was time to return to making a better world.

She lowered to the shock-stricken Shining and poked him on the head. She was expecting him to jolt at the sudden touch, but he reacted exactly the opposite way: he only moved many seconds later, and did so like a slow-motion replay even then.

His pupils turned to Lyra, but his gaze was so deep, Lyra immediately understood he wasn't actually looking at her.

"What is this sorcery..." he muttered, his voice uneven and trembling.

"Exactly that. Sorcery." Lyra sighed. She glanced to Axiom and gave the spider a barely noticeable nod. "But fear not. I will bring an end to your madness."

Those words were enough to awake Shining from his stupor.

"You can... undo this? Mend me?"

"Watch and see," Lyra smiled warmly, then placed a hoof on Shining's forehead. All theatrics, of course; but it helped reinforce the feeling that it was she who did the magic. Certainly not an invisible spider who took his quill out just at that moment. 

"Y'know Boss, I've this funny feeling ya' dun' want him to remember the story exactly as it went," Axiom rolled his eyes and began writing. "Heh. Never believed in bein' honest with the cops anyway."





"Fooled! Completely fooled! What an idiot I've been! And for all these years, never even suspecting anything!" 

A dry smile was all that Lyra had to say about the captain's rambling.

"Just think how many ponies could have disappeared like Twi'!" Shining snarled. He spoke with such rawness that he almost frothed; his expression and tone were enough to make his subordinates keep a healthy distance from him. "One day you're the highlight of the royal court, then the next... poof! You don't exist! No, it's worse than that. You haven't even existed! All gone!"

"Don't be so angry at yourself," Lyra scratched her head, a tinge of nervousness in her voice. "You couldn't have done anything. It's a truly wicked magic, the one you're talking about."

Speaking the truth had never felt more awkward to her. She quickly took her gaze off of Shining and stared dead ahead instead. The wide avenue ran towards the centre of Canterlot in a straight line; and at its very end, in the distance, Lyra saw the walls of the palace. Even from so far away, the white marble shone like a great wall of light. 

Squinting at the bright barrier, Lyra took a note of the colour. It wasn't impeccably white, but tinted with hues of orange. That had nothing to do with the wall itself, though; it was the sunlight itself that was turning red. 

The sun was about to set. 

Hah... such a perfect setting. Almost poetic, Lyra gave the sight a dark grin. She was in high spirits; there was no way she could lose now. A whole army was behind her; professional soldiers and hastily armed riff-raff marching in mixed rows. A combination just as powerful as unlikely! And even better yet, she simply couldn't imagine the Palace Guard putting up much of a fight against their good ol' Captain Shining Armour. They might even turn coats themselves for all she knew.

Nothing stood in her way now. The only thing missing was a red carpet, leading her straight to Sunbutt's lair.

"It's not just that accursed magic!" Shining snarled and motioned behind his back. "I didn't even know there was a hunger-revolt growing! I didn't even think that was possible in Equestria!"

"Well... yeah. Who would've thought!" Lyra chirped, keeping her gaze steeled in front of her.

"Ain't gonna' tell 'im it was us behind that riot, right, Boss?" Axiom chuckled on the right.

"I don't see any issues with the current flow of events." Snowy shrugged, the windigo standing ten steps ahead of her master. "Master never said this riot had nothing to do with us. We're spotless!"

"Truth by omission," Axiom frowned at the windigo. "How befitting of you, Nix... forgetting about details."

Being the only one to hear the argument, Lyra simply steeled her face and began marching without a word. About two kilometres and she would be inside the palace... and then this whole stupid game would come to an end.





"Looks like a huge column, Sir. Mixed forces... never quite seen anything like it."

The sergeant accepted the report with a nod. He had seen that much himself, through the binoculars. Were it not for the irregulars mixing in their ranks, he would have been certain that he saw Captain Shining Armour's force returning.

No... there's no doubt. That's him, he shook his head, his lip between his teeth. But where did he get all those conscripts from? And why does he need them at all? His force was ample enough for investigating a freak explosion.

Narrowing his eyes, the sergeant placed his head on the rampart. Something didn't click about that picture.

But let's say he needed those auxiliaries. Isn't the investigation over there, at that plume of smoke? Why is he bringing all of them back here?

"Strange," he finally hummed to himself aloud. "Most strange."

The faint words were lost to the blowing wind. A bit chilly and uncomfortably strong, the currents kept tearing at everything in the open; flags, tents, clothes and even manes. The sergeant righted his helmet with a frown and gave the empty air an angry stare; this was the reason why everypony hated wall-duty. It was much better sitting in the barracks, sipping hot tea. The same productivity, too.

"What are we going to do, Sir?" his aide asked, forcing the sergeant to turn his attention to the yellow pegasus. The corporal was young; barely out of the academy and mostly beneath the old 'veterans' concern.

"What do you mean, what are we going to do?" the sergeant snorted disdainfully and put his chin back on the cold stone. "We let them in, of course."

The corporal nodded hesitantly and turned his eyes to the distant crowd.

"They are pretty loud."

"It's not against the law to be loud," the sergeant rumbled as he closed his eyes. Another wave of wind rushed down the ramparts, and he found himself wishing his spot was in one of the fancy towers.

"They are rather disorderly, too."

"If disorder was against the law, we would all be in prison by the evening."

"There's also armed civilians amongst them," the corporal kept on the whining. "Can we really just let them into the palace like that?"

"Captain Shining is leading them, you know?" the sergeant rolled his closed eyes. He had about reached his limit with the youngster. "Lock him out yourself if you want. See where that takes you."

The corporal shuddered at the mere thought and huddled next to the rampart himself, biting his lips in his embarrassment. Sneaking a glance at him, it was the sergeant's turn to feel awkward.

Whatever happened to me, making young colts feel miserable! he chided himself, then knocked loudly on his helmet, hoping the loud sound would overpower those annoying thoughts. Unsurprisingly, that plan wasn't very effective.

"Listen, kid. I'm gonna' give you some advice... and listen well, because I'm not going to repeat myself." He rumbled, the rim of his helmet firmly planted against his noseridge. "There's one golden rule to the Guard, and that's keeping your head down. Always keep your head down, okay? Don't volunteer and don't make a fuss. Jump - but only when they tell you."

While that was the ultimate truth indeed, the corporal didn't seem to appreciate it. He acknowledged the advice with a tired sigh.

"That... doesn't sound very motivating, Sir."

"Shouldn't have enlisted if you wanted to be motivated," the sergeant chuckled. Another wave of wind rocked his armour, and he couldn't help but shudder at the cold sensation. "Well, that's enough wall-gazing for us! Let's inspect one of the towers... number four, let's say! They've got a fancy teapot there... samovar they call it, I think."

"Sir, that's against... I think virtually all protocols," the corporal whined loudly but without any actual enthusiasm. He sounded like an overgrown foal who kept protesting, solely out of habit.

"Following your orders is the prime directive of the Guard!" the sergeant barked at the younger colt. "My order is 'inspect tower number four'... so hop to it!"

The corporal snapped to attention right away.

"Sir! Yes, Sir!"

"Much better," the sergeant growled, pushing his helmet back on his head. "Let's get a move on, then. I'm feeling this chill in my bones, brr-"

His complaint was cut short by an unexpected guest arriving: a green-cloaked pony walked out from the stairwell. The stranger didn't seem very concerned by walking on the fortified wall - he moved pretty boldly in fact, as if he had a specific purpose in mind.

While the sergeant had learnt to ignore the everyday nonsense, this was a little too much even for him.

"Halt!" he blared at the interloper. "This is a restricted area! State your business!"

The green-cloaked pony stopped right away and turned to the sergeant.

"Are you in charge of this wall?"

"I said, state your business!" the sergeant reiterated in a much lower tone.

"If you insist..." the cloaked pony sighed. "I bring a orders from Princess Celestia to the commander in charge of this wall."

As if seeking to prove his words, the stranger brought a scroll out from under his cloak. Focusing on the object, the sergeant noted that the wax seal did look rather authentic at first glance.

"Give it to me," he ordered and stepped closer to the cloaked pony.

"I am under orders to give this to the commander in charge and to him only." The stranger shook his head under the hood, judging by how the fabric moved. "Orders of the Princess."

"Well, luck's on your side. You bumped into the right pony right away," the sergeant rolled his eyes. He reached out with his magic and snapped the scroll from the stranger, snuffing the other pony's magenta aura out. He didn't waste any time; he broke the seal and unfurled the scroll right away. The message was short, merely three lines of neatly written letters; but the content was all the more confusing.

"Hey, these orders - are you -" the sergeant scratched his helmet and glanced up from the letter. Alas, by that point the green-cloaked pony was nowhere to be found.

"He already left, Sir." The corporal meekly offered some explanation. "Poofed out. Looked like magic."

"Figures... hoity-toity magicians, thinking they can do anything they want. Seems Celestia's antics are infecting the whole court now," the sergeant moaned. He took another look at the scroll... then furled it up and placed it in the pouch of his armour. "Well, orders are orders! Kiddo - fly to the gate and tell them to close up tight, all right?"

"Sir... yes, sir." The corporal blinked in utter confusion. "Are we... locking that lot out, Sir?"

"We're doing more than that," the sergeant winked at his underling. "We are convincing them to go home. Now hop to it... I've got a tower to visit."





"I should do... what, Sir?" the earth pony blinked with a dumbfounded expression.

"I said, turn this thing around and do whatever you are paid to do!" the sergeant re-explained with no small amount of exasperation. "What's so difficult in this? Am I not speaking properly or what?"

"Well... I understand your words, Sir. It's the meaning that I don't grasp!" the earth pony scratched his head, then turned to the cannon next to him. "Aren't these only for announcements? Like, when a famous royal arrives?"

Turning to the huge metal device himself, the sergeant rubbed the side of his helmet thoughtfully. He wouldn't admit it aloud, but his thoughts were closer to the earth pony's than those of the princess; he couldn't understand the sudden need to make a few loud booms.

After all, all the cannons housed in the Palace Towers were only ever used for loud booms. Not that being loud didn't serve a purpose - they were pretty ideal for celebrations, marking the arrival of important parties and simply keeping time. Even if the latter practice had been largely abandoned by now. Few enjoyed waking up to a loud noise precisely at midnight.

"And then there's the other thing," the earth pony pointed at the unfurled scroll. "Why would I even put anything other than the black powder inside? Wouldn't that muffle the sound?"

The sergeant bumped his helmet up and rubbed his forehead. He wasn't really paid for all these theoretical discussions. He had his orders and he really itched to follow them - and then have his tea and go home precisely when his shift was over.

"Look, there's a reason they are called cannonballs," he moaned, wishing he had colleagues who didn't over think things so much. "Just stick the darned thing in the cannon and make it boom."

"They may be called cannon-something, but that don't mean they belong in a cannon. Unless you want to wipe with sandpaper next time," the earth pony rolled his eyes. "Those cannonballs of yours had been rusting in the storage since Celestia-knows when. My great-great-grandfather had served here, and I'm sure even he didn't open that storage. Nopony since, either. Those balls might be nothing more than rust by now."

"Then put a bowl of rust-dust in the cannon! The order never said the cannonball had to be intact!" the sergeant barked angrily. "Look, I'm not paid to argue with you and you're not paid to argue with me! We're both paid to do whatever Celestia orders us to do, and lo, here is her letter! She wants us to scare that crowd home with the cannon! Understood?!"

The earth pony leaned against the cannon and chewed on thin air, thinking... then finally accepted the reality of his situation with a shrug.

"Well, whatever. I gotta' fire this thing two times a day anyway. Doesn't matter which way I'm pointing it at, I guess."

"Good!" the sergeant celebrated with an outburst of anger and dejection, turning away from the pony and his cannon. "Get to it! I've still got five more towers to notify!"

Sure hope they are less fussy than you, he growled to himself and stormed down the stairs. Otherwise I'll be here all night. Ugh.





"The gate's closed," Snowy shouted as she landed next to Lyra. "Shut real tight, as far as I can see. Even the drawbridge is raised."

"Seems you've just become ponita-non-grata," Lyra giggled, forwarding the message to Shining. "The palace is locked down."

"Ha! You got some good eyes if you can tell from this far," Shining squinted, staring at the wall. "It could be that the gate is still open... and the black is just a shadow. It's almost sunset, and the white wall can trick the eye."

"Even so, I wouldn't march closer until we're sure that it's... well... you know!" Lyra pulled a hoof in front of her throat. "That we're not walking into a trap."

"How cautious of you!" Shining pat Lyra on the head with a warm grin. "Don't worry, those colts there know me. They may not know the real Celestia yet, but they do know me. They wouldn't mean to harm me."

"Heh. Typical aristocrat, thinkin' the world revolves around 'im." Axiom rumbled from the background. He was balancing on the top of a lamppost; all the nearby ground was full with various soldiers and pike-toting civilians, packed so tightly that not even a spider had any room left.

Glancing back at that crowd, Lyra tried to gulp - but she couldn't. There was a knot in her throat.

Standing a mere step ahead of the lot and still not hearing any whisper had made her uneasy. She tried to be an optimist and attributed the revered silence to the fact that they were about to storm Canterlot Palace. Nopony had done that in known history, so all her followers coming down was somewhat understandable.

Hope I can really trust them, she took a trembling breath. She wasn't really nervous - just nervous enough to be angry at herself for not being calm.

"Third, fifth squads! Form up on me!" Shining shouted, and about two dozen armoured pegasi took it to the skies. He also began pacing forward, slow enough that he had time to throw a sly wink at Lyra. "We're going to walk straight in... you'll see."

Basking in the captain's confidence, even Lyra was a little reassured. She took a long, hard look at the white walls - now painted red by the setting sun - and felt a little silly for having had doubts.

Everything has gone fine so far, after all. She felt her tensed muscles letting up. Guess I'm not used to not having my bad luck hound me, heh.





It wasn't anything fancy. As far as the sergeant could tell, that rarely used artefact - that 'cannonball' - was nothing but a huge ball of metal. Sure, it was polished like a silver mirror and had enchantments brimming beneath the surface... but it was still just a huge, round slab of metal.

A heavy slab of metal, as he noted. The two earth ponies almost broke their backs putting the thing into the cannon's barrel.

"Why do we even keep these things around?" one of the loaders groaned once the ball was loaded. "By the amount of dust, these things haven't been used for centuries! You saw it, sarge - we had to break the door! The lock was nothing but rust!"

"Yes, yes. Indeed, indeed." The sergeant absent-mindedly nodded, his eyes on the clock on the wall. His shift was to end in a few minutes - and all he could do was hope that these complications wouldn't force him into an all-nighter.

A screeching noise assaulted his ears; the crew pulled the cannon in the given direction. The ancient device wasn't cooperative. Understandably so: it hadn't been moved in a few centuries. That was a lot of time! Despite the maintenance, the gears still rusted, almost fusing to the rails underneath.

That complication was nothing some earth-pony-brute-force couldn't overcome, though; and finally the cannon was pointing the way it should have. Curious, the sergeant walked past the panting ponies and put his face to the barrel; he saw the hollow tube staring at the houses near the moat. There was a plaza right next to the house, filled to the brim with various ponies and gryphons and whatnot.

What a colourful festival, the sergeant rubbed his eyes, double-checking what he saw. He then shrugged and pat the cannon, his armed hoof making a loud clang on the metallic surface. Well, this is going to be really loud... so I guess most of that lot will be running all the way back home. And, best of all, I still get to have my evening to myself! Gotta' love life when it's so simple.

All of a sudden, the clock on the wall made a loud bong. Then another - and another - and another, until the count of bongs was eight.

Full hour.

"Very well!" the sergeant slammed his hoof down. "It's time - MAKE THIS THING GO BOOM!"

Nothing such happened. The sergeant counted to ten to make sure he gave the crew enough time - then turned around, the disapproval clear on his face. He saw an earth pony with a burning torch standing at the back of the cannon, with another one waving at him.

"Sir, if I may... you might wanna' move out of the way first." 





"Look! Lights movin' in the towers!"

Lyra had no idea who called that one out, but the spotter was correct. Peeling her eyes, she also saw the bright points zig-zag at the top of the towers.

What the heck are they doing? she cocked her head to the side. It almost looked as if somepony was trying to message them, but there was no rhyme or reason to the motions.

"Bo- Boss! HIDE!"

The agitated voice was enough to make Lyra shudder. She yanked her head to Axiom, expecting some sort of explanation just why she should throw her pride away and start running.

"Those lights... the cannons are up there!" Axiom pointed four legs at a singular tower. "Boss, they are gonna' bombard this place! And there ain't gonna' be anything left of ya' if ya' don't take cover! NOW!"

Cannon...

Blinking rapidly, Lyra mused instead of moving. She did remember something by that name! A long, hollow metal tube... filled to the brim with explosives. Similar to the party-cannon Pinkie loved to parade around with, only loaded with very unhappy-looking shells instead of confetti.

Where have I seen those things, I wonder...?

A scene popped into her mind. Waves of gryphons disappearing as the very ground under them turned into muddy geysers. Explosions. Chaos. Mayhem.

For a moment she saw hell.

Then her gaze returned to the towers and the blood froze in her veins.

"CANNONS!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs. "DISPERSE! THEY ARE FIRING CANNONS AT US!" 

She saw Shining Armour stop and turn to her, a puzzled look on his face. Others reacted similarly, with a few openly beginning to ponder.

"Uhh... cannon? Whazzat'?"

Lyra didn't stick around to answer. She dashed to the closest building and vaulted through the window; she landed in a richly decorated bedroom, missing the bed by mere centimetres. While knocking her nose into the ground hurt, she still felt lucky. All she had to do was roll a little, and she was already under the bed.

Squeezing her head under her legs, she heard two things. Her own heart pounding - and the crowd outside, clearly simply chatting instead of running like no tomorrow.

"Should we be afraid?"

"Well, the princess looked pretty afraid. She just up and leaped through that window."

"Wasn't she yelling something like... cannon?"

"Yea'. Got any idea what a cannon is? Must be pretty big, scarin' a princess like that."

"Bah! Princesses are all scaredy-cats anyhow. Fool's on us, expectin' her to be any different!"

Lyra couldn't bear it any longer.

"RUN YOU IDIOTS!" she shrieked from under the bed. "YOU'LL BE ALL BLOWN UP IF YOU-"

A thundering boom filled the air, forcing any other sound - noise, speech, everything - into submission. Jolting mightily, Lyra thought the very sky had cracked and fallen down on them - and just on cue, her room turned into a whirlwind of broken glass and wooden splinters.
> 44 - Anything goes
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The cup shook. Not just that one cup, either; the entire tea-set clanged. Porcelain dishes wandered around, following the motions of the table... and, in fact, of the entire room. Even the chandelier swung around lazily, the shadows in the room dancing to the rhythm.

"Another one," Trixie shuddered. Somewhere in the distance, a muffled boom accompanied the faint shockwave. "Shouldn't we go out and take a look?"

"Have you that little trust in Shining Armour?" Celestia covered her mouth, giggling at her student's expense. "Worry not. Since it is he who is looking into the matter, everything will get smoothed out before we could even get there."

Staring around in unease, Trixie bit on her lip and stared at the large window. She was expecting something to happen. Something unexpected.

Alas, nothing did.

The chandelier eventually settled down, bringing the room back to its former, peaceful splendour. Celestia reached for the teapot and poured some fresh tea - and that was the point where Trixie couldn't hold herself any longer.

"Aren't you worried?" she leaned forward and slammed her hooves on the table. "Two explosions in such a short time...!"

"How do you know they were explosions?" Celestia raised her eyebrows. She put the teapot down and lifted her cup, blowing some cold air over the steaming drink.

"Well... what else could they have been?!" Trixie made a face. She thought this was self-evident.

"Just about anything, to be honest. Magic comes in too many forms to know them just by sound. But... in my experience, only top villains make this much noise." Celestia shrugged with a short, ringing giggle, then sipped from her cup. "Mmm! You should try this tea. It is really delicious."

Completely astonished, Trixie sunk back to the floor, her hooves dropping off the table.

"Top villains... and you're this unconcerned?" she stuttered, her ears slowly drooping horizontal. "What of the ponies outside?"

"Oh, they should be fine. All the villains are after me... all the time. And in the rare case when they are not? Then they want the Elements instead." Celestia rubbed the side of her head with a tired smile. "Well, right now both of those are in this very room! So no matter which villain is making that noise outside, things will be happening here before long. Might as well enjoy some tea in the meantime, right?"

Blinking dazedly, Trixie gave the answer a numb nod. She lowered her head, staring at the tea set with a vacant expression.

"Not sure whether Trixie sees you confident... or hopelessly resigned," she admitted in an incredibly absent-minded moment of hers.

"A bit of both, really." Celestia shrugged with an honest grin. "It is really nothing but a routine after a few thousand years."





"That... wasn't just a boom, was it."

Squeezed between a loader and the cannoneer, the sergeant found himself agreeing with that statement. He couldn't put it so eloquently himself; whistling admiringly was all that he could muster. Up until now, he had no idea that cannons - those heavy, ancient ornaments - were so powerful.

Tearing his gaze away from the sight, he let out a tiny sigh. There was little point in being awed now; the situation demanded decisions, and quick ones at that. There was absolutely no doubt of that; the houses on the other side of the moat provided the needed sense of urgency. Two had collapsed outright and three others had their front disappear - all of them belching thick, black smoke as their innards turned into charcoal.

There was only one silver lining to the devastation: the crowd had indeed began scattering in haste.

So at least the order is fulfilled, huh.

"I... I don't think we were supposed to do that," the loader on the left gulped, his voice audibly trembling. "Oh sweet Celestia, I don't think anypony was supposed to do that. Ever."

"Hush." The sergeant knocked the colt on the head. "We did what we were ordered, and that's the end of it. It's not our fault, so don't worry."

The cannoneer gave what sounded like a muffled hiss, yanking his head out of reach.

"Don't be so uppity. No matter how much you regret now, you neither would have disobeyed a direct order from the Princess earlier." The sergeant chuckled and rubbed the helmet on his head. "And your regrets don't matter whatsoever now either. So stay an obedient pony and reload."

A small shuffle ensued. Not towards the cannonballs, no; all the ponies around the sergeant jumped up and backed away from him, staring at him as if he turned into a weird alien all of a sudden.

"What?" he looked around, no less confused than the others around him. "The orders were to fire until the crowd had dispersed. Well, they began dispersing... which is progress, but not what we need."

Everypony held their breaths, staring at him in utter silence. Grinding his teeth, the sergeant wondered what he could say to mend this uneasy situation...

His braincells were spared the prolonged effort. The loader from before had found his voice, breaking the silence.

"That's insane! Reload, you say? Haven't you seen what we've done?! After seeing THAT, is reload all you have to say?" he shouted, gesticulating wildly. "Well, I say we grab this thing and toss it into the moat! I'm not even sure why we kept them around!"

Puckering his mouth, the sergeant silently admitted to that logic; he found that answer to be the closest to his heart, too. Alas, his mind thought otherwise.

"Look, kid. I know this wasn't pretty... and that we've probably followed some orders we seriously were ought to double-guess." He turned to the smoking cannon with a sigh. "But, what's done is done. The mess down there is done, too. All we can do now is follow things through."

"Follow it through?!" the loader gawked, then frantically motioned at the street below. "What in Tartarus are you saying, Sir?! That we keep firing, knowing full well what the results will be?!"

The sergeant cocked his head to the side so he could stare the colt right in the eye.

"Yeah, I do."

His voice sounded cold, even to his own self. He had thousands of misgivings, but something deep in his mind gave him all the confidence this decision required.

If only he knew just why he was so certain about this plan...

"Well, I refuse that order!" the loader threw himself to the ground. "If you want that cannon firing, you better do it yourself... sir."

The others were clearly siding with that pony. Looking around, the sergeant found himself surrounded by the full crew lying on the ground.

This was a clear result. He sighed and gave a curt nod, openly accepting his defeat.

"Well, as you wish! I'm not forcing this on you," he shrugged and began walking towards the stairs. "But if you are really intent on sitting this one out, then I suggest that you leg it real fast instead."

An unsure voice rose from behind.

"Uhhh... leg it real fast, sir?"

"Yeah. Run for it. Before this tower gets contested. You can't just fly away from here once things get hot, after all." The sergeant mused as he pulled the stairs' trapdoor open. "If that crowd down there doesn't go away, they will surround the walls... and they will get in there before long. And I can assure you, they'll probably want these cannons silenced. Permanently."

"Like we've got a problem with that," the loader snarled. "We're quite ready to dump this lump of metal into the moat ourselves... sir."

"I know that." The sergeant chuckled dryly, his last word distorted by the grunt as he tore the heavy wooden door open. "Think anypony down there is the same privy to our inventory, though?"

He gave the tower's crew one final look. Their tacit refusal seemed to lessen; they were only wavering now, looking at each, their eyes openly betraying their hopeless confusion.

"They wouldn't harm us," the loader shook his head wildly, trying to shake his doubts away. "They aren't like you, sir. They wouldn't go that far."

Unlike you...

That gave the sergeant a moment of pause; he had to think about it. In all his life, he never felt really unique. Quite the opposite; he was always a little bland. He was a little refined, but only to the point where he shirked away from the too wild; reserved, but only to the point where he would distance himself from others; knowledgeable, but only deeply enough so the bothersome quandaries avoided him.

His lips pulling to a lethargic grin, the sergeant felt reassured that he belonged to the largest crowd: the one of the completely unspectacular. 

And being of such an average mind had never made him more worried than at this moment.

"I only wish I was that special." He finally shrugged and began making his way down the stairs. "Anyway, if I were down there, on the receiving end of this Tartarus-born surprise... well, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't just sit idly and watch this madness unfold. I'd be outraged, and I'd fight tooth and hoof to put an end to it. I'd destroy these cannons! Make sure there would be no-one who could repeat this travesty."

He didn't wait for the reaction. He was in the narrow tunnel before anypony could answer, descending towards the rampart - first at a walking pace, but soon in a full trot. He had to check on the other towers. He also had to raise the other troops. The main gate must not be breached - if the wall fell, they would be in trouble real quickly.

No, even worse than that. They would be done for.

The sergeant was certain that the crowd, while currently awed, would soon be enraged. He would act the same way: back away in shock at first, only to rebound in fury.

And the subject of that fury will be all the troops on this wall... me included.

No matter how much he sympathised with those poor devils down there, the sergeant was fairly partial to making through this night.

Just got to hold out until Celestia comes and sorts this mess out, he thought as he barrelled out the doorway, darting towards the next tower at breakneck speed.

Just then, above him, the cannon sounded again. He yanked his head left; barely in time to see the moat breaking into a tall geyser. The spray of misty water was something else, almost reaching five metres in height. That sight was equally impressive and fearsome; even the sergeant shuddered a little, despite being on the cannons' side.

This plan better work! Because if it doesn't- well, it's already a bit late to leg it now, he frowned and pulled his head low, bracing as the wind battered him for passing moment. That gave him a fleeting second to appreciate his previous concern of getting home on time... and to voice his opinion on the retrospective moment.

"What the heck am I doing..."

His steps slowed as his whole being paused, his limbs freezing up as well as his thoughts. He gave the smouldering houses a glassy stare; the destruction, while appalling, was secondary to the sergeant's shock at his own actions.

Defending this wall to the bitter end... didn't think I was this brave.

Turning his head a little, he looked at the golden top of the tall, sparkling white tower. He wouldn't have bet on those colts holding out with him either. Not even after that half-baked speech of his.

It felt a little strange, the whole Guard being so dutiful all of a sudden.

The confusion didn't mire him for too long. Another gust of wind blew past him, and the prickly sensation cleared his doubts. He shook his head and continued running to the next tower.

There was duty to be done.





"Master! Is Master all right?"

"Gonna' be... hnng! Gonna be better in a sec!" Lyra growled and pushed against the bed. 

"Oh... all right." Snowy nodded, uncertainty clouding her words. "Is Master sure about that?"

"The only thing fo' sure is that place is comin' down before long." Axiom wisecracked from the outside. "So no matter how yer' feelin' Boss, ya' should really be gettin' outta' there."

The gloomy prediction gained additional sense of urgency when the cannons boomed again, the noise immediately followed by the tell-tale sign of an enchanted cannonball exploding on impact. Everything around Lyra shook, and fine-grained dust rained down on her. Her hiding-spot didn't cave in on her just yet... but easily could have. She already understood how flimsy this house was. Those cannons didn't even need a direct hit; a close impact would have been perfectly sufficient to bring the whole building down. The previous volley, while off-target, had already done considerable damage.

The room had halfway collapsed already, and only Equestria knew how long it would be before the last supports gave out on their own.

Struggling so hard she felt the veins in her neck bulge, Lyra pushed against the ruined bedframe once again. The wooden construct groaned and creaked in protest, finally giving away to the pony's power with a loud snap.

Loud being a relative word, that is; Lyra barely heard a thing. Her ears were still ringing, and any noise making it through were all off-tone and washed out.

I'm getting into these situations way too often, Lyra thought to herself as she pulled herself out from her ruined cover. Glass and wooden splinters cracked under her hoof as she got up, then silence followed as she stopped moving. She was staring right at the palace walls. Which was a truly splendid sight, but...

But a rather surprising one for a pony who was expecting a wall to block the view.

That side of the room was completely gone. Only a heap of bricks hinted that something used to be there moments ago.

Should have expected this much, Lyra made a face. Things were going too smoothly lately, weren't they?

"Nice to see Master being all right, even after all this mayhem!" Snowy popped up in her view, blotting out large parts of the palace wall. "Master is sure getting durable!"

"Not sure if I'm durable enough for this," Lyra rubbed the side of her aching head. "How's things on the outside?"

Despite the creaking ceiling above, she was weary to go out just yet; she wanted to steel herself for what may greet her. She knew what cannons did to living beings, and she didn't wish to see her memories replayed in flesh.

"Well, it's a little hard to explain..." Snowy stammered, glancing around awkwardly. "There was a huge flash, and..."

A knob forming in her throat, Lyra had a solid idea about what made the windigo trail off.

"Don't be losin' yer appetite yet, Boss. Things have barely begun!" Axiom shouted, his voice coming from the outside. "A little too early for ya' to hit the backstreet, wouldn't ya' agree? Ain't this yer' personal war? To make a better world or somethin'?"

It's almost like he's around to pester me, Lyra growled. Her anger was rather superficial, though; deep down, even she understood that Axiom was simply pointing out the uncomfortable truth.

Sure wish he didn't put those truths so tactlessly, though.

"Follow me," Lyra barked to Snowy and stormed to the ruined wall, wobbling as the loose bricks slid under her hoof. The remains of a curtain dangled in front of her, gently waving as the lazy currents moved. She shoved the rags to the side... and then steeled her face.

The very first thing that greeted her was an older, brown gryphon. He was mostly flat on the heap of bricks, precariously propped against the buckling wall; lying like a log, still and completely uncaring about the madness surrounding him.

Lyra realised the situation at first glance. She couldn't bring herself to look away for some reason, though. She recognised that gryphon - it was the barkeep from that inn earlier.

The one which was blown up because of her having been there before.

This is my fault, Lyra felt her lips wobble. He saved me, and I... I...

She flinched away, forcibly tearing her gaze from the unmoving gryphon. There were dozens and dozens of others lying similarly motionless - all near the houses, huddled to the walls as if the buildings could protect them from the danger. Gulping dryly to stifle the stench in her mouth, Lyra quickly realised the grim joke: none of those gryphons and ponies were killed by the cannons. Not directly.

None of the victims were torn asunder; their bodies were perfectly intact. It seemed unlikely that exploding-enchanted cannonballs would be kind enough to grant such a dignified passing!

These poor things were done in by the falling brick... or whatever debris that hit them, Lyra sighed as her mind struggled with the irony. All because the cannons hit the buildings instead of the crowd.

That was one stunning conclusion though, going completely against her expectations of prolonged cannon-fire. Turning around with a dizzy head, Lyra couldn't help but wonder how it was possible at all. 

The combined firepower of six cannons should have decimated that crowd; even just one shot could have carved a bloody path. So just how in Equestria was the most of the crowd still unharmed? It seemed like a complete mystery - right until the next cannon round struck, that is.

Yanking her head to the crack-like noise, Lyra found herself staring at a strange, blueish ripple in the air. It enveloped the cannonball and remained in place even as the projectile exploded; only then did it finally dissipate, disappearing like a the harmless waves on the surface of water.

Only this was in thin air.

What... was that? Lyra blinked at the surreal sight. Magic?

"Huh. So Shining is still at it... quite the resilient fella'," Axiom hummed from above, then pointed a hairy leg towards the moat. "Still, I doubt he'd last much longer. Think we should check on 'im, Boss? I mean, we're kinda' done for the moment he calls it quits."

The last sentence told Lyra everything she needed to know.

"OUT OF THE WAY!" she bellowed right away, breaking through the packed ranks of her confused army. "PRINCESS COMING THROUGH! MAKE WAY!"

Her voice worked wonders. Most of her 'army' had already fallen silent, awed by the new 'magic' the defenders had used against them; this also made it easier for Lyra to force her way through, though. Gryphons and ponies moved out of her way, backing away so widely that she had an empty circle form around her.

The fact didn't escape Lyra's notice, but she had no idea how to react to it. Being revered was to her liking; it made it easier for her to order her new underlings around. It also showed signs that she was losing her touch with the crowd, however. They were starting to be awed of her.

Well, I wouldn't treat myself too friendly either, she chuckled darkly. Not after I brought everypony to these cannons.

She glanced up as another cannonball landed in the moat. The resulting explosion knocked water almost a dozen metres high, spraying a huge area with light rain.

I should have known better, Lyra bit on her lip and shook her head. I have fought in so many wars, yet I forgot about cannons! All these deaths are my fault. I should have surrounded the palace and waited until the defenders ran out of food. Seriously, what is wrong with me, ordering a charge so casually?! I don't even have siege equipment-

She stopped for a moment, hesitating as the thoughts collided in her head. She remembered spending so many nights planning the various ways to take the Royal Palace, but such tactics had never occurred to her.

Not even once.

It was almost as if she had never seen actual combat before... as if she had been doing all that planning from a mere civilian's perspective.

She shook her head angrily and resumed barging through the crowd. There was no point in regrets! Not when she was standing at the walls, staring at the cannons firing down on her. Regrets would get their own chance, later... but for this moment, only deeds were acceptable.

We have to break through, Lyra glared at a tower, then doubled her pace. We have to break through, or else we'll all perish here.





"This was another explosion! Trixie is sure of it!" the loyal student whined, now continuously staring at the window. "There's something big going on out there! We should really take a look!"

Her expectations were dashed. Despite the obvious urgency in her words - and her voice - nothing followed. The porcelains on the table clinked as they rocked around ever so slightly; the shadows lurched around, following the movements of the chandelier... but nothing more. Celestia remained silent, opting to drink her tea instead of breaking into the righteous crusade she should have.

"Master...!" Trixie cried out, her voice mixing equal amounts of pleading and hurry this time. "Please!"

That seemed to work, at first. Celestia lowered her cup and stared at the table with immense focus; the white alicorn's forehead became rich with wrinkles for a few seconds, her effort palpable...

...but then she shook her head and simply placed the cup back on the table.

"You are far too hasty, my most esteemed student." The Sun Princess chuckled, giving Trixie a light grin. "There is a time and place for everything... and this is not our time. Not yet."

Gnawing on her lip, Trixie nodded.

She then looked out the window and wondered just when their time would be, if this wasn't it.





"Don't you love the smell of gunpowder? Such a nauseating smell... chock-full of nostalgia."

"Nostalgia, you say!" Luna snorted, the brief move merely hinting at the full extent of her disdain. "You are surely mistaken. We never wanted to see this happening again...!"

Standing on the highest balcony, she had a pretty poor view of the battle. The wall was quite far away; she could only see that the soldiers were firing one barrage after another, each flash illuminating the towers for a split second, but not giving her any idea what they were aiming at.

She would have loved to fly there, to at least check things out! And by the Moon, she would have done so too!

...if not for one complication.

She was contractually bound to make both herself and her sister stay in the Palace. She had no choice in the matter; she had signed a blank contract centuries earlier. A one-sided contract that came back to haunt her in the worst moment.

"Spoken as expected of a pony standing at the top." The Source doodled absent-mindedly, tucking the Geis scroll back under its green robes. "This country was born amidst this smell! But you are the leader now. Of course you would never want to smell it again."

The wind woke up for a second, bringing a thick, almost nauseating smell with it.

Sulphur, Luna snickered. The last time she had bathed in this stench, she had overheard a general joke about it... she had largely forgotten about that buffoon, but she could never get his words out of her mind.

Smells of victory, doesn't it?

She had never longed for such victories. She couldn't imagine anypony doing so either. She would have discarded those cannons long ago if the decision was up to her - but Celestia wanted to keep them around. As reminders, of the old times. So that ponies couldn't forget where they came from; so that history couldn't repeat itself.

Fairly safe to say that idea has failed us, Luna made a pained grimace as another barrage echoed.

"Don't look so angry. What you see isn't some tragedy. It's merely change." The Source turned its hood-covered head to the distant wall. "And while I can see how no pony at the top would like it... to me, your rejection is nothing but hypocrisy. You weren't afraid of wars when you were the one doing the conquering."

Frowning, Luna looked the other way. She had never wanted any part in a victory brought by gunpowder. The accusation annoyed her, but only mildly so; she had never expected a conceited, power-drunk fool to understand her motivations.

"In the end, nothing is truly eternal. Dreams vanish, and even the dreamers themselves wake up... eventually." The Source sighed and glanced back to Luna. "The old must go as it gives way to the new. You will be replaced, just as General Hurricane and other leaders of old were. I really thought you'd understand such necessities."

"We could really feel that necessity of change... had you not forced us to sit back and watch." Luna rolled her eyes, motioning at the wall. The air rippled, and the palace shuddered at the newest barrage of cannons. "We have no idea how this madness came about, but we are certain that we could have stopped it with ease."

The Source turned around, its sharp, fang-like teeth glittering against the rays of the setting sun.

"I know you could have." The game-master nodded. "My problem is that you would do so, actually. This desire of yours! A forever unchanging world, shaped to your vision..."

"If that is your sole accusation, then we are fully satisfied." Luna smiled. "Only a perfect world would have no reasons to change."

That was a nice comeback - it had to be. Even the Source was at a lack for words. The haughty game-master remained silent, finally turning away to stare at the battle for a few moments; a few lengthy moments.

A few moments that were long enough to tell Luna: she had won that encounter.

"Is there such a thing as a 'perfect world', though?" the Source asked after a long delay. "What of me, for example? I'm quite far from being satisfied."

"Well, your complaints have been duly noted!" Luna cackled wryly and turned around, pacing towards the door which led back inside the palace. She only paused before the last step, turning her head so she had a good look at the game-master. "That is what this farce is all about, is it not? You are leading your chosen avatar against us. And once we prevail, you will depart... and then we have won your game. For good."

"Indeed. Should that happen, you will have this static world all to yourself." The Source shook its head, its words overflowing with melancholy. Never once did the game-master look at Luna during this time; the violet-red eyes simply stared into the distance. "Makes me wonder whether you are truly so short-sighted... or if you are merely opposing me out of spite, like Hurricane opposed you. Unable to deny the truth, but unable to admit it either."

Frowning, Luna yanked her gaze back to the door in front of her. The dark-brown wood was hardly anything to marvel at, but was still better than the dual-coloured, nonchalantly accusing eyes.

"This is the truth we have always believed in." She sighed loudly, opening the door with her magic. "We are sorry if you find it lacking... but we are sticking to our principles."

She stepped forward, one leg after another. The sun soon disappeared from around her, and the comforting darkness of the palace interior shrouded her.

Then the voice reached before she could shut the door behind.

"Then you won't hold it against me if I'm also sticking to my own principles, then."





"Where the heck is Shining?!" Lyra growled. Nopony gave her any answer - they all just backed away, silently and in absolute haste. Even those wearing armour.

Especially those wearing armour.

Oi, oi... come on now! Isn't he like, your superior or something? Why are you cowering instead of answering me?! Lyra glared at the cowardly soldiers. A cannonball exploded above, sending everypony around her squirming on the ground; the dichotomy in the scene was tremendous.

Your companions are literally blasting us to shreds with those cannons, but me giving you a stern glare is enough to break your will? Did I wind up with the faulty lot or some-

She stopped as her eyes settled on the closed drawbridge. Somewhere beyond that gate ly the palace - and somewhere in that palace waited Celestia and all the assorted servants under her control.

"Axiom, you visited that place with Pinkie." Lyra muttered. Her voice was shaking; she had to keep it low, and in doing so, she was absolutely failing to keep the tone in check. "Was there any servant who could incite an army to..."

The huge spider carefully tip-toed around a whimpering pegasus soldier, then turned slightly to give his master a warm, congratulatory grin.

"That'd be Lust. If me memory serves me right, that lion could invoke any sorta' feelings in anyone... Celestia's original servant, he is." Axiom chuckled. "What tipped ya' off, Boss?"

A weird, screaming screech cut through the air on their left. It landed straight in the front of a house, collapsing the wall even before it exploded, throwing piles of bricks into the air like confetti.

"Ah-ha." Lyra smirked and rubbed her face, completely unfazed by the lethal fireworks. "Should expect our foes to fight to the last then, huh?"

A servant who can fuel absolute zeal towards his Master... should have figured. What a perfect match for Sunbutt.

Glaring at the closest tower, Lyra watched a long flame flare up for a moment, then disappear just as rapidly; then, just as quickly, a screen and an explosion followed.

I'm sure up against an annoyingly effective pair, it seems.

"Heard your'... lookin' for me?"

Blinking to her right, Lyra flinched a bit. Shining was the one addressing her, but she could barely recognise his voice. The captain was in shambles; he was carried by two other ponies, his limbs dangling as if he was a lifeless doll.

"I'm ok. Iz' the... shield." Shining forced a smile, or something to that effect. His effort was met with little success; he was so tired that his face barely responded to his will. He couldn't get beyond a lethargic smirk. "These cannons are... better than I'd thou-"

Lyra yanked her head upwards: a round detonated precisely above them. There was no danger, as the impact was absorbed by the blue barrier; but at the same time, Shining twitched so greatly that he almost brought his aides to the ground with himself.

He's not looking so hot... he really could fold any moment now, Lyra gulped dryly, the skin on her legs prickling. This is bad. Without his barrier, the casualties are going to-

She had to act: those cannons had to be silenced. She moved without thinking; she knew the way battles flowed. She was up to this challenge! She didn't need a magical servant to convince her underlings to fight. Showing an example they could emulate had always worked just as well.

"¡A MÍ!" she screamed, trying to overpower the noise of the surrounding chaos. "¡RÁPIDO! RÁPIDO! A MÍ!"

The ponies around her snapped to Lyra. They didn't understand the words, and understandably so; Lyra wasn't calling on her own brethren this time. That wasn't the language of Equestria.

She had no time to whip their spirit into fighting shape; instead, she needed the readily reliable fighters of her entourage. 

Gryphons.

This was specifically why Lyra had to learn their language. She wasn't a fluent speaker by any means, but she knew enough to demonstrate that she took the effort. That she was respecting their culture. That she was worthy to lead them - if only for a little while.

Observing the gryphons drift into the open, Lyra held a hoof to her aching head. She remembered her reasons for diving into the gryphon culture, and with acute clarity at that. Those gryphons - those mercenaries - had been her treasured auxiliaries. They were the sole reason she had been able to force the accursed Hurricane into a stalemate on the fields of San Palomino. Were it not for the fierce warriors, the pegasus army could have bled her troops dry with ease.

This is... this is not me either, right? These aren't my memories, Lyra grit her teeth, vaguely aware that she was being surrounded by curiously chattering gryphons. This is another general... but not even the same as the last time. One even older.

Sneaking a glance at the oddly content-looking spider, Lyra's headache doubled.

Oi... isn't there a disturbingly consistent theme to your backlashes? Weren't you supposed to be unable to control what gets jammed in my head, you eight-legged crony...?

A gryphon drew her attention away. A fairly young-looking gryphon at that, with reddish-brown feathers around his neck, waving his paw just in front of Lyra's nose.

"Princess, were you calling for us just now?"

Lyra flashed a toothy grin, then pointed her hoof at a tower.

"Sure was," she said, her words emphasized by a particularly loud explosion going off against the blue barrier ahead of them. "Feel like helping me get vengeance for your comrades... amigo?"





"They aren't going away," the corporal grimaced. "We're landing shots right on that barrier now, but they aren't even budging. Do they have a death wish or something?"

Raising his eyebrows with a bored frown, the sergeant simply hummed. He was wondering the same thing himself. Not even Captain Shining could resist this concentrated barrage forever. He would slip up sooner or later - and the next shot would land straight in the crowd.

That would be a bloodbath for certain.

Snickering at the possibility, the sergeant pulled his head down from the parapet.

"Go tell the colts to stop firing," he mumbled to the corporal. "You've got the towers on the right... I'll handle the ones on the left."

The corporal didn't anticipate this order. The yellow pegasus' wings shot out, and his jaw dangled hanging.

"But... but sir, the crowd is still down there! Weren't you saying earlier that they'd lynch us if we didn't disperse them?"

Grumbling faintly, the sergeant nodded. He had certainly said that much.

He had no idea how to explain that order, though. He'd received a letter from Princess Celestia; that much was clear. But that letter could have been interpreted differently... and that was up to him. And the more the sergeant kept thinking about it, the less sense his own orders made.

He wanted to hold this wall. It felt more imperative than anything else in his life! He simply couldn't explain why.

He had said that he wanted to stall until Celestia arrived, but that was a lie made up on the spot; a lie so convincing that even he had fallen for it for a while... but the truth was far less glamorous.

He didn't want the wall to fall.

That was all there is to it. But now, as the sooty smoke on the opposite side grew thicker and thicker, doubts began catching up to that burning desire.

The sergeant could tell that something was amiss. His ears ringing from the cannon-fire and his nose burning from stench in the air, it was plain obvious that something had gone off the rails.

He couldn't see the why though.

Why did he insist on those orders in the first place?

Why...?

The corporal next to him jumped, so suddenly that he startled the sergeant.

"SIR! FLIERS INBOUND!"

That sounded important.

Grumbling to himself, the sergeant glanced up. A thick stream of gryphons were in the air already. They were taking off from among the burning houses, heading towards the left-most tower.

Guess past mistakes don't really matter at this point, the sergeant sighed and turned to the corporal.

"Order everypony to grab spears. Looks like we got ourselves a proper battle now."

"Si- y-yes, sir." the pegasus faltered. Then he snapped to attention and blasted off, diving towards the troopers idling beneath them.

Left alone, the sergeant glared at the gryphons... then squinted at the farthest tower. He certainly hoped the crews knew how to deal with this danger on their own.

It the towers fall... this wall is as good as lost.

Gulping dryly, the sergeant dashed towards the endangered tower himself.

He wasn't exactly sure why, but he understood that he had to defend the wall.

At any cost.





"Gnnh!" Lyra winced. She was far from being comfortable, with sharp talons digging into her skin. Hardly a five-star service, she chewed on her lip, trying to keep herself from complaining out loud. She had no choice but to endure anyway; this was the only means of transportation available to her. No pegasus volunteered to assault the towers, and gryphons were far too prideful to allow anypony to ride on them.

Short of swimming across the moat and climbing the vertical wall on her own, being carried by sharp talons was Lyra's best choice.

Of course, those talons seemed a lot less of a deal-breaker whenever she heard the deep, echoing crack of a cannon going off.

Her escort, a young gryphon from the extreme southern desert, reacted to that noise predictably. He screeched something in a high-pitched tone and veered violently to the right. Lyra shuddered; she hated being yanked around. Even if the talons hadn't scraped her skin, she still would have found her stomach turning.

She wasn't a pegasus, for crying out loud! She didn't enjoy flying - even when she wasn't being shot at. All she had understood was that she was some nine-ten stories high, and that dropping from such an altitude would rapidly rearrange her into a very flat, pancake-like pony.

"NO! Don't turn!" she yelled to the gryphon, her voice largely lost to the reverberating, thunderous noise of the cannons. Above open water and between a huge wall and the flat building-fronts, every loud noise became a lot louder. Far more scary, too.

Still, Lyra at least managed to catch the gryphon's attention. Hastily beating his wings, he peeked downwards... 

Seeing his face made Lyra gulp.

That gryphon was really afraid.

These aren't my auxiliaries, Lyra realised. They are plain civilians. They could be brave by default, but they still have no idea what's going on.

A loud crash sounded behind them, rapidly followed by a detonation. Despite being so high up, Lyra could feel her innards shift as the wave of compressed air hit her - and then she yelped briefly, when the gryphon carrying her dropped lower.

"DON'T TURN!" she cried out again, as loudly as possible. "WE'RE SITTING DUCKS OUT HERE! GET TO THE TOWER! STRAIGHT TO THE TOWER! Ah... torre! LA TORRE!"

"Easy to say!" the gryphon grumbled, but changed his direction nevertheless.

They turned sharply, but after a short bout of sick dizziness, Lyra found herself staring straight at the tower, her eyes level with the top. She even had a clear view of the crew there. They were working in a hurry - some were putting wet clothes on the sizzling-hot metal, but others were already pouring gunpowder down the front of the barrel.

Oi! That's like, super dangerous! Lyra shuddered at the scene. No sane cannoneer would have done that. Waiting so little between two shots...

Then her concerns over rapid-firing cannons faded, her attention drawn to a wholly different fact.

Two ponies were pulling the whole assembly sideways, rotating it until she was looking down the black barrel.

She broke into a cold sweat right away. While she wasn't expecting to face grapeshots, an enhanced cannonball going off next to her would have ruined her day all the same.

"TURN!" she yelped, her speech turning increasingly hasty as she spotted a pony rolling something suspiciously spherical to the barrel. "TURN, YOU STUPID GRYPHON! TURN! TURN!"

She even kicked wildly at the last word. Just in time, too - for a spear whizzed past her, nicking her moving leg.

Had she remained still...

They're really going all out! she hissed with clenched teeth. A shrill shriek hit her ears; she glanced there out of reflex, just in time to see as a gryphon dipped into the moat.

Lyra paid that scene a dry gulp. Combat between intelligent creatures... there mere thought made her uncomfortable. Sure, she had seen plenty of monsters getting beaten up - she had done so herself, even - but monsters were fairly acceptable targets. They always had nefarious intentions, and protecting the world from them was a noble undertaking.

There were no monsters around this time, though.

It's like my past battles, she drew a deep breath of the foul, sulphur-smelling air. It's just like what I'd grown so tired of. All this senseless, wanton...

The gryphon yanked on her hard, but she barely noticed. She was too busy fighting her rage; rage which she had inherited from generals who had lived and perished centuries ago.

Generals who all truly believed their wars to be the last.

But this world really hasn't changed at all! Lyra heard the angry voices snarling in her head. How can this scene be repeating, time after time?! What could have gone this wrong?! Were all those sacrifices really-

"Good... luck!"

Spaced out in her fury, Lyra was puzzled when those words reached her. She was given no time to get her bearings either; she was thrown high in the air, and was flying freely before she knew better. It was such an unexpected situation that she couldn't even panic. She twisted her torso and glanced behind, expecting some sort of explanation of the gryphon... and her heart sank when she reached understanding.

Her carrier was already dipping towards the moat, a spear sticking out from his side.

Her eyes going wide, Lyra tried to reach the limp figure. In vain, of course; both of them were in a freefall, drifting further and further from each other.

Wha- wait-

That couldn't have been right. It simply couldn't be right.

She refused to accept it.

It's her fault, isn't it?

The wind battered against her Lyra. She turned around and looked down; it took her this long to realise that she was plummeting towards the water. She would crash into the moat and die; either the impact crushing her or drowning later, with all her legs broken.

The Guard in Ponyville ran away... but here they are fighting like lions. But this isn't their choice, is it? It's Sunbutt... she brainwashed this lot. That's it. Has to be!

Spears passed her on both sides, one even grazing her from her rear tights to the front. The airspace became a lethal theatre; from the corner of her eye, Lyra watched as dozens of gryphons danced around, trying to avoid the rain of the shiny metal weapons. There was even background music; detonations ripped through the air constantly, almost joining into an eerie, deadly rhythm.

Turning her attention back to the water below, Lyra noted how close the blue surface seemed. She could almost reach out and touch it already.

But she wasn't afraid.

She was simply furious.

Furious that such an obscene part of history could be re-enacted.

That the lives she had ordered to be snuffed out were all lost in vain.

That all those battles, all that pain had been for nothing but a temporary reprieve.

That the chance brought by those sacrifices had been wasted.

It's your fault, isn't it? Sunbutt! You led us to this point! So this is... your fault. It's your damn fault!

A feeling surged in her; one she was intimately familiar with.

The moat rushed towards her. Her nose almost touched the waves; she could almost smell the water.

But she wasn't afraid in the slightest. Neither of water, nor of the chilly coldness that spread through her limbs. She knew she wouldn't die here.

No, that's not right...

She couldn't die.

Not until she accomplished her task.

Not until she had set everything right.

Clenching her teeth, Lyra twisted herself around. She landed with her rears first - and the moat promptly turned into an icy slab beneath her. She landed nice and soft, the impact barely rocking the ice around - and then she vaulted straight away, barrelling towards the cold, white marble wall.

She would have justice served. 

And if those foolish mortals on the wall would stand in her way...

Roaring with the likeness of a ice demon, Lyra decided to teach them a lesson.
> 45 - Civilization
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was the biggest battle of the century. Despite having slept through most of his history lessons, the sergeant was certain of that. A loud boom above him affirmed the idea; and almost immediately, the air around him shifted, his hoof quaking on the polished marble stairs. Fine dust rained down on him from above, the mighty tower struggling to keep the cannon in its place.

Indeed; those contraptions hadn't been used for combat in any recent history.

He shook his head, a vain attempt to rid his mane of the accumulated dust; then raced upwards renewed. He paid his movements little heed, his legs pacing back and forth like those of an automaton. His head was heavy; his thoughts weighed him down. One in particular: that it was he who had brought such a historical event about.

He was always a passable officer. Not the worst; he certainly didn't want to be demoted. He liked the numbers on his regular paychecks far too much for that. He never wanted a promotion either, though. He was a content pony, and could well imagine himself touring the towers every afternoon until retirement came knocking.

So why would a pony like him go and make history? Why would he make such a tremendous decision, based on nothing but an authentic-seeming letter?

Have I lost my mind? the sergeant grit his teeth. He reached the top of the stairway; the trapdoor was in his way. He didn't stop nor slow down, but simply braced for impact. His helmet smashed against the steel-reinforced wood, and he was rewarded with chilly winds right into his face. Chilly winds, with a nauseating stench of sulphur.

Gasping for air after the long run up-stairs, the sergeant took the last few steps with a pronounced stagger. He took a few deep breaths to clear his head; then he looked around and found no enemies in the tower. Only seven ponies, all staring at him.

So those gryphons didn't make it here in the end, the sergeant pushed his helmet backwards. That, or they weren't coming to this tower in the first place... ack.

One of the seven ponies, a bulky pegasus, moved away from the smouldering cannon and stepped forward.

"Something wrong, sarge'? You look awfully agitated." 

The sergeant made a pained smirk. For that moment, the mental stress didn't factor into his grimace; it was his burning lungs that were killing him.

"Yeeea'. I... hhh... haaa... gah!" he cleared his throat. He only had mild troubles breathing, but pretty big difficulties with forming legible words. "I... I, ah... I need ya' to stop firing... that thing."

There.

He had said it. It was done. 

It was over.

He sat down, closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the chilly, oily, disgusting air. Despite the physical pain, he felt pretty good. Relieved, almost.

Right until another cannon boomed, the deep thump echoing in the distance. Frowning, the sergeant cocked his head to the side and glared at the farthest tower.

I came to warn them against inbound fliers, he recalled. Why did I first order them to stop firing, again?

That was strange. Almost as if he was thinking with his old mind for a second.

"Uh... ah'kay?" the pegasus squinted at the officer. He sounded anything but convinced. He even took the time to glance behind his back, stirring his wings nervously. "But, it's not like anything changed down there. They've even sent some flyers to the other tower just now!"

The sergeant rubbed the side of his helmet and sighed lengthily.

"That's exactly why we need to stop. If they can assault us despite the barrage, then the barrage obviously doesn't work," he grumbled in a low tone. He was beginning to feel quite... strange. It may have been the stress.

No, it had to be the stress.

This whole nightmare was getting to him; he was sure of it. He didn't join the Guard to partake in such lunacy.

"Hum. Makes sense, I guess?" the pegasus nodded. He whistled and motioned with his head; and, just like that, the other ponies in the tower immediately stopped servicing the cannon. They stood down rather literally, too; having nothing else to do, they simply stared at each other questioningly, waiting for somepony - any pony - to give them new instructions.

"What of the fliers, though? Could be dangerous if they got here." The pegasus motioned towards the moat. "Should we go grab some spears or somethin'?"

"That... would have been my next order," the sergeant gathered himself with a groan. This bucking night! Even if he solved issues by the dozen, a thousand more remained all the same. "I've sent orders to the spear-ponies to clear the sky... some gryphons may still make it through, though."

Gazing at the airspace outside, he got the glimpse of a gryphon dropping out of the sky, his paws clutched on the spear that struck his mid-section.

The sergeant flinched at the sight. Such a bloody spectacle went against everything he held dear. And yet, at the same time... a part of him also felt relieved. That was one less attacker that could assail his precious wall.

Because he had no choice but to defend this wall. Even if he couldn't account just where this stubborn devotion came from, he had no choice but to obey. He would have preferred a peaceful solution, but those priorities weren't his to change. Holding the wall took precedence over everything else - including the choice of methods.

"Oh! How thoughtful of you!" the bulky pegasus whistled. "Streak! Go and fetch a dozen spears from the supply... don't you look at me like that! On the double, soldier!"

The sergeant paid the pegasus a snide glance. He didn't know that pony; despite having served for over a decade, he barely knew anypony in the Guard. Even so, he was certain that nopony in their right mind would remain so calm after personally witnessing combat... after having seen so much death.

This brand of psychopathy reminded him of his own self a scant few minutes ago; the officer who had casually ordered the cannons to rain death on an unsuspecting crowd below.

But... in this case he wasn't the only one having gone insane.

Have we all lost our minds? We're all pretty stressed, but... but this craziness is way too uniform, the sergeant hummed, rubbing his hoof against his chin. It was such an absurd idea to even consider! ...and yet, nopony around him was fazed by the turn of events. They were carrying out their orders, eagerly and to the best of their ability.

Now that I think about it, not even the spear squads objected to killing whatever approached the towers, the sergeant recalled, his teeth grinding as dull worry gripped his mind.

Were they all caught up in some magical spell?

That was the only answer he could think of, and the more he thought on the matter, the more certain he was of it. A subtle magic that relied on their own sense of duty - twisting it, using it against them.

Yanking his head up, the sergeant hastily glanced around, finally certain in what he was supposed to be doing all along.

I have to put an end to this madness!

"Si- sir! Tower six... it's...!"

The sergeant had no idea who yelled, but turned to the left anyway. He remained in that pose for a solid half minute, staring with his mouth hanging open; then he began speaking without realising, his mouth moving on its own.

"What in the..."

He had no idea what he was looking at.

Tower number six - the leftmost tower - was barely visible, clouded in some sort of thick mist. A cloud with a faint blue tint; and also one that didn't care about the steady winds battering the towers themselves. It wasn't held in place by any pegasus whatsoever; it simply stuck around of its own volition, swirling around the tower as it if had a mind of its own.

A little dazed by the unexpected sight, the sergeant rubbed his eyes, then squinted hard; but the image didn't change. It actually got even weirder, if that were possible. Tower Six was getting covered by ice! He could tell by the reflection - and by the icicles hanging from the golden roof.

"What in Celestia's name is going on there?" the pegasus next to him snorted loudly, holding his hoof just above his eyes.

"Magic," the sergeant mumbled, his mind hung up on that single word. He had no idea what kind of magic that was - but the sight was so unnatural, it couldn't be anything else.

And then the cloud moved.

It might have been water vapour, but it sure didn't float. It moved fast - way too fast, faster than any pegasus could carry a cloud. It soared through the air, shooting out like an arrow, drawing a slightly arced line until it reached tower number five.

His limbs heavy as granite, the sergeant could only watch in silence as the cloud enveloped the next tower. He had no idea what was going on, but he had reasons to fear the worst.... and while he didn't know the ponies there, they were his underlings all the same. He was supposed to take care of them. Because without them - without those towers - the wall would fall, and then he would have failed in his duty-

Fighting the invisible binds that were gripping his mind, the sergeant shook his with a furious snarl.

The wall, always that darned wall... I know this worry isn't mine! Let go! Let go of me already!

Agitated yells and loud commands shook him out of his futile struggle; somepony behind him hollered to turn the cannon around. That was such a lunatic idea that the sergeant doubted his ears at first. Firing the cannon at the other tower? Who in their right mind would do that?

He was about to belay that order when a loud boom rang out. That was the sound of a cannon going off, all right; though it came from tower five, not theirs. The cloud seemed to interfere with the cannon, though; the tell-tale smoke looked completely different than usual. Instead of a long, conical plume, it enveloped the tower, seeping out through every crack and crevice.

Out of the blue, another, much louder detonation rang out. It was so bright that it blinded the sergeant; he had to flinch away, reflexively shielding his eyes with a hoof. A wave of hot air rammed him the next moment; not strong enough to send him flying, but enough to daze him nevertheless.

He collapsed on the floor, confused and panting. That pain wasn't his biggest worry; once he glanced up, all his ailments became secondary.

He couldn't see tower five any more.

It was simply gone. 

Only the broken, cracked walls stared back at him - and the cloud, of course. The cloud which moved again.

Towards him, this time.

"IT'S COMING THIS WAY! TO ARMS!" somepony behind him screamed. 

Rattled by the earlier explosion, the sergeant's thoughts crawled so very slowly. He obeyed the command, despite his hunch that resistance was going to be futile... and indeed, even his movements proved painfully slow. He could barely yank his sword from the sheathe by the time the sentient cloud reached him.

And then came the most bitter realisation.

That cloud was nothing but frozen mist surrounding the actual enemy. A creature with bright red eyes and a translucent blue body; almost like a twisted image of a pony, complete with perpetually snarling, unnaturally sharp fangs.

That was a sight rather easy to categorise.

This... this is a Celestia-bucked ice-demon! the sergeant recoiled. He couldn't recall the actual name of the creature, but he did recall something else: that these monsters should have been extinct from Equestria for many centuries already.

Maybe this one didn't get the memo, he chuckled grimly.  Well, maybe I can help correct this-!

And with that thought, he swung his sword.

His attack was well-timed; his sword flashed, striking between the red eyes just as the demon landed on his tower. A futile gesture, as the sergeant himself realised the moment his blade failed to make contact. The swing went right through the demon's head; there was no resistance, the cold steel simply swirling the frosty air around.

"What-!" the sergeant recoiled, jumping back on instinct. That was the right choice to make; the tower began freezing up where the ice demon stood. Even standing a few steps away, the sergeant felt his face freezing, his breath forming visible plumes. For a lack of better ideas, he took a defensive posture, just as he learnt in the academy so many years ago - keeping his head low and his sword pointed at the enemy.

And then he noticed.

His sword was completely frozen; a continuous layer of ice covered the weapon. I only did a single slash, he gulped. Eyes on the demon, he knocked the sword against the ground - and blinked in disbelief when the entire weapon shattered instead of the ice coming off.

There was no time to get surprised, however. A much louder, pained creak hit his ears; and as he glanced to his right, he realised that it was the cannon itself wailing in pain. The steaming-hot metal was cooling so rapidly that it began to deform, outright splitting in places.

Thermal shock, his mind identified the phenomenon. So this is how tower five exploded, huh? Did they try firing a leaky cannon? Talk about desperation...

He needn't look so far for despair, though.

The demon moved towards him at a leisured pace, almost idly placing one hoof after another. Clenching his teeth, the sergeant wondered just what he could do. One of the more valiant cannoneers snapped, charging the demon with a spear. That counterattack was over in a flash; the earth pony was thrusting with the spear in one moment, then landed on the floor in the next, frozen solid.

No way, the sergeant gulped, then resumed backing away. He had to keep his distance! His armour already felt chilly, sticking to him at the thinner parts of his coat. At this rate, he'd be a pony-sized popsicle before-

"YA' FREAK-!" shouted a pegasus, barrelling at the creature with another spear. He managed exactly that one attack. His frozen corpse then sailed through the incorporeal demon, carried by momentum, finally landing next to his spear.

In the meantime, the sergeant's back hit a wall; he had ran out of space. The internal of a tower wasn't incredibly spacious. There was only so much distance he could put between himself and the approaching, certain icy death.

Well... damn. This is it, isn't it?

Despite the surreal cold, he was panting like no tomorrow. A part of him wanted to believe that this was but a bad dream; that there was no way such things could actually happen.

Somepony next to him broke into a laughter. That was surreal enough to make both the sergeant and the ice demon look there. The noise was coming from a unicorn; one who had clearly reached his limits. Giggling like an insane lunatic, he threw his spear through the ice-demon - and then jumped into the air, hopping over the parapet with a final, dry chuckle.

You friggin' coward, taking the easy way out. The sergeant grumbled internally, then shifted his gaze back to their supernatural foe. Nope, I'm not envying you in the slightest!

Ironically, that scene affected the ice demon more than all of the previous attacks combined. The creature stared lengthily at the parapet, its crimson-red eyes visibly pondering on just what had transpired.

Glaring at the demon, the sergeant wished he could put that time to use; to give some meaning to his underling's sacrifice if nothing else.

It's just... there was so very little he could do.

Fighting was useless. He couldn't run away either; going down the stairs would have taken too long. He could have used that opening to jump down himself... but that seemed like a waste. No, he wanted to do something else. Something meaningful.

If only he had a weapon that could harm that murderous ghost...! Something like-

His gaze wandering off from the blue ghost, the sergeant raised his frosty eyebrows in excitement. With a flick of his magic, he grabbed a flint from the floor. The small rock was used to ignite the cannon's fuse; he would give it a different, final use now.

Grinning with all his teeth showing - a grimace that made even his tongue shiver - he yelled to the ice-demon.

"Hey! You monster!"

The demon turned to him - slowly, without any sense of urgency. The translucent creature showed signs of confusion though; its red eyes were visibly sizing up the sergeant, questioning what he was up to.

"Why are... you even here... you cursed... accursed... monster?" The sergeant snarled. It was getting hard to talk; his face was freezing up. He simply had to say the last few words though, no matter how painful speech became. "I... won' let... monsters... like cha'... hurt... anyone!"

With a flicker of his magic, the flint scraped against his armour. Bright sparks jumped to life - and then landed next to him, right in the open keg of gunpowder.





You accursed monster.

Bathing in flames, Lyra savoured those words.

She had the time to do so; there was no need to hurry. The detonation ripped the tower apart and sent her barrelling downwards. Despite being ghosts, windigos still couldn't fly at will; their fancy acrobatics skills were useless in the air. Lyra couldn't change direction until her hooves touched the ground.

She glanced below and frowned. The next tower was on the other side of the main gate; she would need to cross the ramparts to get there.

Of course, that meant mowing down a few more soldiers. It couldn't be helped, though. If they wouldn't move out of her way, then of course she would have to-

Monster.

Twisting her head around, she glanced at the spot that soldier used to stand. She still barely believed he did that - that he would blow himself up like that.

She had never heard of a pony to even contemplate such thoughts, much less actually carry them out.

For all the horrible things they had done, Lyra couldn't imagine any of the princesses forcing anypony into that kind of a way out.

So just who is the real monster here, I wonder? Did I cross a line somewhere? But all I did was... try to save everypony back there?

Shivers distracted her from her doubts; her immediate reaction was to glance around, looking for a new source of heat. She didn't want to go hungry. It was pretty hard keeping her murderous instincts in check. Fighting hunger might just tip the scales and revert her into an actual, mindless windigo.

Then she would be a monster for certain.

Using reflexes no pony could possess, Lyra twisted herself around, legs perfectly aligned for a touchdown. Debris rained down around her, the remains of the proud tower; pieces of marble, torn wooden beams, jagged golden roof-tiles. A mighty piece of metal crashed just behind her, tearing a metre-deep hole into the walkway; glancing there, Lyra gave the cannon's deformed remains a wry grin.

That thing wouldn't be harming anypony anytime soon. And all it took was a pony blowing the whole tower up-

Lyra staggered. The shivers returned, coming and going in waves, each worse than the previous. She hunched over and gasped; she felt so cold that she was certain she would freeze and die on the spot. Her teeth clenched tightly, she forced herself to move; lying still was the worst a freezing pony could have done. She staggered away from the twisted wreckage, squinting into the thick dust that surrounded her. She sensed something through the thick layers of grey fog; it took her a few seconds to realise that Guard troopers were approaching her. They were moving slowly and uncertainly, coughing and wheezing in the dust.

Standing alone in the middle of the dust-storm, Lyra felt the heat radiating from those ponies. Against the chilly winds, all of the soldiers shone brightly, like the stars in the night sky.

Lyra licked her trembling, ice-cold lips. Those plump fools had just presented a fine dinner for her. She really shouldn't have declined such an offer-

"NO!" she screeched, shaking her head wildly. She only came to silence the cannons - to save those that followed her here. Massacring indiscriminately... only a monster would have done that.

A true monster.

I'm not...

Lighter pieces of debris continued to rain down on her; a golden roof-tile flew through her incorporeal form, clanging on the floor and drawing her attention.

The tower...

Her face in a wry grimace, Lyra turned around to stare at the broken walls.

"Why would you..." Lyra whispered, then gasped raggedly. She was feeling cold, so very cold; she wanted to shiver, but her body was so cold that her muscles refused to budge even that much. She was freezing. It wasn't just her either. Ice crystals appeared on the marble slabs making up the walkway, and Lyra shuddered at the realisation.

Even if she didn't mean to consciously attack anypony, her sheer presence was more than enough to end lives indiscriminately.

Even if she didn't mean to be a monster, she was turning into one anyway.

She couldn't follow those thoughts to their logical conclusion. She fell forward, gasping and clutching her hooves on her belly. She felt hot and cold at the same time; her innards burned, but her skin was freezing at the very same time. Coughing hoarsely, she swiped the sweat off her brow...

Then she gave the sight of her very solid leg a wry smile.

Oh dammit.





"Master, I'm very sorry! I-"

"Ain't your fault," Lyra whispered to the windigo. She didn't feel like arguing with her loyal servant. Their unison ended rather abruptly, leaving her dazed and drained; so drained that she didn't even jump when a loud crack sounded near her. She simply shuddered, certain that another piece of debris had missed her by a hair's breadth. But, eventually glancing there, she saw something even worse.

She found a guard standing next to her, spear drawn and everything.

Scurrying away was Lyra's first thought, but her body couldn't act on the idea. She was too weak; all she could was lie on the cold, frozen ground... and gawk with a blank look on her face. She couldn't even muster the strength to make a scared grimace.

So this is how it ends, huh? she thought as the trooper turned to her. I thought it'd be more... dramatic.

It felt all kind of anticlimactic to be skewered by a nopony after she had destroyed half the cannons on her own.

That feeling was further reinforced when the Guard finally spotted her. He was so surprised he seemed to forget why he was on the wall to begin with - he blinked in confusion for many long moments, jerking the tip of his spear towards Lyra with a laughable delay. He didn't seem like a figure important enough to finish Lyra's story; he was nothing but a bumbling fool.

"Halt!" The trooper barked, emphasising the order with a small nudge of his weapon. "Who are you?"

"Lyra Heartstrings." Lyra sighed in exasperation. As ridiculous her situation was, she felt resigned to her fate. "You should know who I am."

The Guard soldier defied all expectations. Instead of winning the battle on his own, he lowered his weapon and scratched his head.

"Really?" He cocked his head to the side, clearly at a loss. "I, uhhh... should I really?"

A tired grin on her face, Lyra relaxed, slumping onto the icy ground like a cheap doll.

I can't believe this oaf is so thick. How did these idiots force me to such lengths?!

"Master... if I may." Snowy cleared her throat. "These ponies won't know master. We have made the whole world forget about Lyra Heartstrings, remember? And the delusions of Master being a princess... I believe that Axiom kept those fairly localised, as Master hadn't turned into an insane maniac yet. Clearly the damage couldn't have been so bad."

Glancing at her servant, Lyra whispered a mostly silent 'oh'. In her blind acceptance of fate, some facts had slipped her mind indeed. She didn't get very far into contemplating; a light-blue aura took hold of her, yanking her back on her hooves.

"Eh, it doesn't matter who you are!" The Guard next to her barked, his horn glowing with magic. "Didn't you notice it's a battlefield here?! You could get seriously hurt, you know!"

The chiding came so far from the left field, all Lyra could do was nod numbly.

"Safety is that way!" the soldier pointed his spear in the direction of the palace. "Can you move?"

"I... uh, I can?" Lyra mumbled, uncertainty permeating her words. She couldn't believe that soldier. They were in the middle of a battle - a battle where ponies were dying all around them - and the first reaction of that colt was to guide her to safety. He didn't even stop to think just how she got there or what she was doing; he simply tried to take care of her.

After making his comrades blow themselves up, that soldier made Lyra uneasy in roughly a dozen different ways.

Those colts aren't fanatics, she gulped, carrying her gaze to the other soldiers - most of them barely more than outlines in the dirty-grey dust. Why did they try to kill us, then? It just doesn't make sense. Though... what if they have fired the cannons because of some mistake? Or... were they afraid of us? A rag-tag bunch of weirdos marching towards the palace...

She had nothing concrete in her mind, but that didn't stop her from having an incredibly terrifying idea at the same time. An idea where she was the centrepiece of a completely pointless tragedy.

I set this whole thing in motion, she bit on her lip as the corners of her mouth curled into a nervous smile. A familiar word sneaked back into her head, too...

Monster.

She closed her eyes and breathed in, giggling faintly. All of a sudden, all the horrible things she had done as a windigo seemed weightless. No matter how cruel, none of those deeds compared to the sin of setting the whole battle off.

Monster!

Clenching her teeth, Lyra had to begrudgingly accept that accusation. She had nothing substantial in her defence.

"What are you waiting for?!" the Guard trooper yelled next to her, snapping her out of her misery. "Move! We can't protect you if you stay- ack!"

A gryphon appeared from the thick, dusty fog. The next thing Lyra noticed was the Guard unicorn stumbling backwards, a thin blade sticking out from his unarmoured neck. That image was enough to snap Lyra back into her fighting mindset. She grabbed the deceased soldier's spear by reflex and spun around, just in time parry a long knife-

-and then to play a little staring contest with two gryphons.

"Oh," one of them spoke up.

"Uh-oh." The other one hissed, slowly taking a step away from Lyra. "So-sorry 'bout that, Princess. I just- I just saw you next to that Guard! I assumed..."

Lowering her spear, Lyra nodded with a heavy sigh.

"Don't worry," she scratched her head with a hoof. "It's chaos down here... I don't blame you for getting confused. Just be a little more careful and-"

...and carry on, she almost said. Almost. No matter how much sense those words made, she couldn't bring herself to utter them. Not when she was standing right next to the dead Guard - the unicorn who had been so set on bringing her to safety.

I need to stop this nightmare, Lyra dropped her spear in honest disgust. I need to... uh.

She peeked behind her back. Loud yells and clangs were coming from behind; the shades beyond the grey fog were fighting now. Fighting... a losing battle by the sounds of it. The armoured-looking shades fell one by one, swarmed by newer, gryphon-like shades.

And just like that, the whole thing was over before she could have intervened.

They are fighting as if possessed, Lyra shivered at her followers' performance. Little wonder, though. After losing so many to bombardment and spears, they must be thirsty for revenge.

She squeezed her eyes as the last few Guards got taken down, then turned away, mentally tuning the screams out.

I'm responsible for this... I did this. She clenched her teeth. And it's not going to end either. There's nothing I could tell this lot that would make them stand down now. All I could achieve is to discredit myself.

Opening her eyes and finding the two gryphons still standing in front of her, Lyra gave her followers a wry smirk.

"Go and gather a few able comrades!" she commanded, yanking the spear back into her grip. "We need to get the gates open."

Both gryphons snapped to a hasty salute and took off, disappearing from her sight on short order.

"What have I done," Lyra whispered once those two were gone, smiling in her disbelief. "By Cel- by the gods, what have I done?"

"Master has sparked a rebellion to overthrow the tyrants?" Snowy volunteered, her answer filled with obvious curiosity.

"No... I've created a monster, Snowy." Lyra shook her head soberly, paying her spear a sad, hollow grin. "I've created a monster that no-one can possibly stop now."

Weighing the spear with her magic, she chuckled darkly. The weapon felt heavy, the metal tip dragging towards the floor; it almost felt heavier to hold than it was to undo centuries of peace. She could almost see how this revolution of hers would end. The violence wouldn't stop with this battle - far from it. The pacifism that Celestia had maintained wouldn't hold up against such savage scenes. No... this much anguish couldn't be ignored. The cries of the dying would be resounding, sparking further conflicts down the road. The peaceful world she had known would shatter and be no more.

She knew that much with absolute certainty, because she had seen this timeline play out many times throughout history. All the generals she never had been but certainly remembered - they all had witnessed how battles had given birth to new battles only.

And it was she who had renewed that vicious cycle... revived a piece of history that nopony wanted to see again.

I brought wars back into reality, she pushed the spear's shaft against her head, the cool wood brushing against her noseridge. What could I be if not a despicable monster?

"Well... nopony said that revolutions are clean business. We're not off to too bad a start as far as I can tell - so it stands to reason that Master hasn't done any terrible mistakes yet." Snowy gave her master a warm smile, making Lyra peek hollowly at her. "Besides, none of this will matter as long as Master can acquire the other servants, right?"

Lyra gave the windigo a tired grin and put the spear aside, nodding with a faint - but rather earnest - grin.

"Darn right," she nodded curtly. "As long as I get the servants, none of this will have happened... so none of this will matter."

That sounded so reassuring that she didn't have the heart to tell Snowy: that was a lie. Even if she did become God, she wouldn't stop grieving over the suffering she had wrought. She would certainly remember forever and beat herself over the carelessness that led to this madness; because she would risk repeating the mistake if she ever forgot.

A god couldn't repeat such an awful mistake. Anything but this.

She couldn't allow herself to be a monster once she wielded absolute powers. 'I didn't help you to give rise to another Discord' - was what Pinkie had said, back at the inn. And while Pinkie's worries were different, Lyra felt that warning to be more relevant than ever.

She mustn't turn into a monster before she was done playing god.

It didn't matter what monsters she dethroned if she proved no better, after all.





The mighty, gold-lined doors creaked and turned. Rattling chains provided the backdrop to their surrender, soon followed by a drawbridge that came crashing down. The way made clear, a crowd burst through the open passage; waves and waves pushing their way through, like a torrent of water gushing through the cracks of a broken dam.

Lyra paid the scene a curt nod. Her makeshift army had made it through! Not a moment too soon, she mused. The Guard, while disorganised and scattered, were still giving ample resistance; she barely had anyone fighting alongside her at this point. Almost every gryphon who volunteered for her mission had died - most falling victims the spears while crossing the moat, and the rest to the vastly better equipped Guard soldiers.

She settled her spear to the ground and sighed.

This was the final obstacle. Now all that was left was to face Celestia-

A loud, whiplash-like bang cracked through the air, bringing an annoyed grimace onto Lyra's face.

Seriously? she glared at the rightmost tower. You just had to remain a threat... I can't even ignore you like this.

"Persistent," Snowy whistled at the same sight.

"I guess they're panicking," Lyra sighed wearily, then gathered herself and pointed her spear at a nearby gryphon. "You! I need you to relay my orders to those below. Tell them I need those towers silenced! That is the highest priority right now... not even the palace is as important. Understood?"

"Right on it!" the gryphon threw a quick salute back at her, rushing off towards the crowd on the double.

He's seen so many of his friends die... and he's not even fazed, Lyra mused at the departing figure. The young gryphon's enthusiasm didn't strike her as healthy - it was more of a pathological reaction. She had seen that kind of behaviour in her previous battles. She also knew where this would lead. The last time she had seen such eyes, the battle had ended without a single prisoner being taken.

"I would sure hate to be in your hooves,"she noted sourly as she paid a final glimpse to the remaining three towers, then shook her head and began marching towards the palace with firm steps.

No point in sticking around and watching a bunch of hapless soldiers get lynched.

Isn't this just turning a blind eye, though?

Shaking her head and the thoughts out of her mind, Lyra doubled her pace.





The way to the Palace was deserted. Lyra had no idea whether the Guard had fled en masse to save their skin or if they had regrouped for a counterattack; but in truth, she didn't really care either. One way or the other, her riff-raff army had already done its job, luring the Guard away from the Palace. Their actual fate wasn't of concern, not more than the lives of the Guard soldiers who had wound up in the crossfire... pitiable puppets every last one of them, forced into a suicidal last stand by their tyrannical princess.

Standing at the golden gates of the palace, Lyra gave that thought a sour smile. Even if justified, that felt like shifting the blame.

I guess I'm really just trying to wash myself clean here.

This whole battle was her doing, after all. She was the one who had gathered the crowd. She was the one who had led them to the palace, using those poor souls to provide herself with a smokescreen. Because that's what the whole battle was: a distraction. A distraction that was meant to cover her from the underhooved methods Celestia may have planned against her.

She was sacrificing lives by the dozen to simply cover herself from mere possibilities.

Shaking her head with a wry grin, she put the spear down and pushed against the golden doors. The hinges were well-oiled, for the massive doors moved without a sound; they parted silently, opening up and revealing the long hall to the innards of the palace.

Drawing a quivering breath, Lyra snatched her spear from the floor. She knew the weapon would be of no use against an alicorn, but the weapon still offered her a little peace of mind, no matter how deceptive that possibility was. Shaking her head at her folly, Lyra stepped into the long hallway - and was stopped almost immediately by the sight of bright green figure appearing at the other end.

"Isn't that Origin?" Snowy mumbled, stepping in front of her master. "Be careful, Master. That servant is-"

"Trixie's." Lyra interrupted, lining up with her own servant. "The newest loyal student of Celestia."

The lapdog of my enemy... and I was the one who put her into that position, she frowned, chuckling grimly at the realisation. Did I seriously put her in a position where I'll have no choice but to maim her? Haha, does everything I touch turn into a disaster?

"He's an enemy," Snowy stressed the fact, keeping her ruby-red eyes on the green gryphon.

Swinging the spear around and resting it on her back, Lyra gave that assertion a subtle nod.

"So how do we fight a servant?" she raised her eyebrow, paying her windigo a curious stare. This was one of the questions they had often pondered about, and were still yet to come to a clear conclusion.

"I might have a few ideas," Snowy licked her translucent lips. "No guarantees that any would work, of course."

Smiling wryly and poking the end of her spear, Lyra didn't say a word. Despite knowing how improbable they must have been, Snowy's ideas were the best shot they had. Might as well try their desperate moves by putting some actual faith into them.

And I thought the cannons were bad, she gulped. Well, come on ghostie... give it your worst!

Origin surprised them by not making any hostile moves, however.

"Greetings!" he yelled, bowing theatrically, his beak almost touching the marble tiles of the floor. "Nice to see you two! I was getting worried you wouldn't come afterall."

Exchanging a quick glance with each other, Lyra and Snowy silently agreed that they had absolutely no idea what the gryphon was on about.





"Don't look so surprised." Origin paced towards them, chuckling with a thinly-veiled sense of smugness. "What, who did you think had arranged your trip here?"

"Pinkie?" Lyra squinted and cocked her head to the side. A servant intent on parley was surprising already; a servant asking such obvious questions was downright suspicious. There had to be a trick.

"Indeed, it was Miss Pie who has helped us this far," Snowy elaborated on her master's answer, supplementing her words with a curt nod.

"So it was yer' all along? Shifty bastard."

While the unexpected voice made Snowy jump, Lyra remained stoic, only moving her eyes in wide circles.

I knew things were proceeding all too smoothly, she gave a small sigh, glancing at the spider at her side.

"Took your sweet time showing up," she snarled.

"Well Boss... ya' didn't really seem heartbroken' 'bout me missin', so thought I'd let ya' two chatter amongst yerselves." Axiom shrugged. "Been stalkin' ya' ever since ya' got that fancy bridge down, in case yer' curious."

"How courteous of you," Lyra smirked dryly, then motioned at Origin. "What did you mean, it was him all along?"

Axiom crossed two of his legs and sat down, then glared lengthily at the gryphon.

"It ain't nothing but a hunch." He scratched the side of his head. "Old Boss got a letter the other day - a strange one, at that. It was like a schedule, or a plan... and was comin' from high up the food chain. Straight from Canterlot."

Nodding slowly, Lyra returned her gaze to the gryphon. Origin remained silent, but was enjoying himself without any subtlety whatsoever; he had an ear-to-ear grin plastered over his face.

"From Canterlot you say," Lyra echoed, glancing back at her spider.

"Easy to tell. Y'know, by the stamp." Axiom narrowed his eyes, still glaring at Trixie's servant. "But the letter's origin ain't important here, Boss. Only the contents are. See, that mail told old Boss which inn to go... and when."

"That mail organised our secret meeting, you mean?" Lyra raised her eyebrows. That was definitely an intriguing piece of news.

Axiom nodded heartily, moving his whole body to supplement the limited flexibility of his head.

"How is that possible?" Lyra massaged her forehead. "No pony or servant could have remembered me... apart from Pinkie."

Well, that was the plan... but it obviously wasn't the case, heh. That letter had to come from somewhere, after all. She frowned as she continued thinking. Did Discord double-cross Pinkie? Nah, he kept his word where it mattered. Luna wouldn't have let me go had she the faintest idea who I was. So, that leaves me... uh...

She slapped her head with her hoof.

That leaves me confused, I guess.

"I knew of your plan." Origin spoke up all of a sudden, breaking his silence but not his inane grin. "I... noticed a certain player lurking in this rotten place. I struck a deal with him soon afterwards; and, in accordance with our pact, he didn't erase my memories of you. He even gave me instructions to aid you, in fact."

A player who didn't erase your memories? Lyra narrowed her eyes, her muscles tensing. Oh that's- Discord, you scheming, two-timing, dastardly bastard.

"So Discord made you his mail-gryphon." She finally spat out, as disdainfully as a pony ever could. "What did you get in exchange?"

"You really should be more grateful to me, you know." Origin chuckled, spreading his wings and arms wide as if he expected a loud cheer. "What, did you think Pinkie would know the slums of Canterlot so well? Or that Snips would guide you to her on his own? Just how did he acquire an accurate drawing of you in the first place, hmmm? Who do you think could conjure enough money to rent a whole basement so you could hold your private séance in peace and secrecy, hmm?"

He folded his arms and raised his beak high, positively beaming with satisfaction.

"Did you really think that you caught the luckiest break of your life?"

"I thought Trixie had organised all that," Lyra flashed a wry grin. That's what Snip's letter had said, hadn't it?

"Pfah! My master wouldn't even know your name, much less conspire in your favour!" Origin rolled his eyes, retracting his wings so fast that Lyra expected to see some ghostly feathers to fall. "Besides, the way she is now, she would rather lop your head off than risk you so much as thinking of harming the princess."

No attempt was made to veil the bitterness of those words.

"No, my Master wouldn't have helped you." Origin carried on. His triumphant expression was gone, and he was staring to the side, at a random statue. "I merely forged a letter in her name... a trivial effort, really. It was so easy, Master didn't even notice me using my powers. Not that she could spare me any attention lately anyway."

"Forging a letter... huh! That sounds familiar," Snowy hummed, rubbing her chin.

Yeah. He used the same trick I had used him for, Lyra nodded thoughtfully. She had her doubts, but the words of the gryphon were rather convincing.

Thinking about it, it did seem strange that Trixie - a pony who wouldn't remember a thing about Lyra Heartstrings - would be so eager to help her out. Especially since their last deal had already concluded. Even if Trixie would somehow remember, she still wouldn't have owed her anything.

"Right, so let's say it was you." Lyra paced towards the gryphon, her words coloured with equal curiosity and suspicion. "Why would you conspire behind your master's back?"

Origin defied her expectations once more. The accusation didn't rattle the gryphon; he merely turned to Lyra, an indecipherable smirk lurking behind his beak.

"Because my master is dead, Heartstrings." He said slowly but forcefully, each of his words slamming against the walls of the empty hallway. "As for me... I have paved your way here so you can help me avenge her."