[I - Prologue] Pushing Up Daisies

T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

This one's for Papa.
1937-2012

PROLOGUE

In which our story begins, a stallion awakens, and a Catlord is obnoxiously vague.

The Buried

In the abyssal deep, far below the world, something woke up...

It was not a gentle awakening. His eyes shot open, his chest heaved as a fresh gust of air rattled his lungs. Every inch of him tingled as though he had lost circulation, his cheek was pressed uncomfortably into a cold, gritty surface. He tried to look around, to no avail. At first, he thought he had been blinded - darkness lay all about him. But as he slowly came to his senses, as his breathing gradually evened out, the black faded into a murky gloom. When the tingling vanished, he found he could move again. He groaned as he rolled himself onto his stomach. Hard, rough rock lay beneath him, awkwardly rubbing his fur the wrong way.

A rasping cough barked out of his throat when he tried to stand, causing him to fall back into the stone. Immediately, a terrible, fiery pain blossomed from his neck straight down to the junction between his hind legs. He almost blacked out - but some force within him clawed its way back from the brink. He refused to succumb again to the void.

He wheezed and rolled back over to his side. Getting up was not likely in this state. The best he could hope for was that somepony would come along and find him. He peered around, but still couldn't make out anything short of a few yards away. A thick, dark mist seemed to cover everything like a soft blanket.

Where was here, exactly?

He tired to think, to recall what had brought him to this place.

He remembered...nothing?

No, that couldn't be right. He had plenty of memories. Hadn't he? It was so hard to think. It was hard to do anything. He frowned, digging deep into his thoughts, as if unearthing buried treasure. He strained as hard as he could without bringing out another attack. Slowly, unbearably slowly, visions began to flicker across his mind’s eye.

To his great frustration, they were only impressions. The vaguest feelings and sensations. Ponies with no faces, no colors. Places with no names, that blurred when he tried to focus on them. Voices with no bodies.

It was as if his mind had been a great chalkboard, covered in formulas and notes from a great lecture, and somepony had decided to take an eraser to it.

Vigorously.

Unacceptable! He fumed, his anger giving him the strength to rise again. He had lost everything, he was a blank slate. Why? How? When? Who did this? These questions bounced around the inside of his head, shredding the fragments of memory to tatters, until it was all he could hear.

He threw back his head and screamed, a wordless, primal call of loss and rage. As the emotions poured through him, he suddenly realized that he could see.

There was a bright light coming from just above his eyes. He swatted at it with a hoof, only to stagger backwards when he hit himself in the horn.

My...horn? He had a horn. I have a horn, he realized, shocked that he didn’t know that already. Of course! He was a unicorn! Unicorns had magic! That meant the bright light was coming from him. He wasn't even sure how he remembered how to cast it. It had been more instinctual than anything else.

He took stock of what his light permitted him, running his eyes over himself, first. He had a snowy white coat that seemed almost ghostly in the pale glare, gray hooves, and an icy blue mane and tail. An emblem adorned his flank. A cutie mark, he thought. Or at least that's what the mares call them. Where had he remembered that? It was a storm cloud, with a trio of small snowflakes falling beneath it. He could not recall how he had gotten it. He sighed to himself. Why should I expect anything else? I don’t even know my name...

His body suddenly felt worn and stretched, as if it had been cast aside and stuffed with a different soul. He felt like a stranger in his own hooves. They were his, right? Yes. They had to be. His mind might be gone, but he had his body. His body. His magic.

But what had happened to them?

A glance down elicited a gasp. That had happened, so it seemed. A terrible, fresh scar ran straight down his front, bisecting him from chin to groin. Well, almost. At least he still had his stallionhood. That much had been spared.

With a ragged groan, he despaired his situation, before harshly chiding himself. Don’t be weak, you foal. Be strong. Survive! A surge of agony traced his scar. He had to clench his jaw tight to keep from yelping in pain. The light shining from his horn flickered wildly. But he managed to keep his footing, despite feeling like he was being ripped in twain. He had to get out of here. He could not live like this for long.

And so, trembling, he took his first steps forward.

The gloom extended all around him. Without the sight of the stone floor beneath his hooves, he might as well been floating in the middle of limbo.

The light helped immensely, but failed to show the boundaries of wherever he was. Only the misty dark kept him company. On occasion, he felt as though somepony had said something to him, sometimes from far away, once from right over his shoulder. He had whirled around, only to find the same nothingness. Furious at being toyed with, he’d come to ignore the faint whispers and cries.

He didn't have a particular plan. He didn't know where he was, or who he was, for that matter. But he had to move. Some primordial instinct told him that something about this place was wrong. Loitering here would be unwise.

After a time, he came to a great stone pillar in the ground. It hadn't been carved, the sides were too uneven, and yet they were smoothed, although lumpy. The thing was massive, he limped slowly around it and found it to be almost a hundred hoofsteps in circumference. It was tall, too. It stretched up into the dark heavens like an endless tree, disappearing when his spell's light lost its potency. Stalagmite. The word came unbidden, from where he did not know. Yet he knew the meaning. When water dripped down from the roof of a cave, it sometimes formed a mineral deposit on the floor, that grew and grew as the water continued to drip down. They took a very long time to form.

This one was easily wider than a house.

Wherever he was, this place was extremely old. Hundreds and thousands of years, maybe. He felt small and weak in the presence of the stone monolith. He didn't like feeling that way, for some reason. He began moving away into the darkness again, away from the stalagmite and the sense of insignificance.

He took some solace in the fact that he knew he was definitely underground. Somewhere, a rocky ceiling spanned the blackness. This place had boundaries, limits. It was not infinite. He found that oddly comforting. There might be a way out. Then he could go...home?

Where was home?

He scowled and pressed himself to go faster, gritting his teeth against the pain. His hooves did not echo the way they should have. This was a big, empty cave, right? And yet, they sounded muted. As if the sound were being swallowed up by the hungry void.

"Hello," he bellowed as loudly as he could manage, jerked into a raspy coughing fit.

He pricked his ears, awaiting the sound of his voice returning to him, bouncing off some distant wall. His grating breaths were the only source of noise.

Nothing. Not after a solid minute, spent counting off the seconds.

Not after two.

Or three.

He tried again. “HELLO!”

Again, not even an echo.

He sat down, hard, the strength seemingly leaving his body as air might leave a balloon. This place wasn't right. It was unnatural. It made him feel weak, useless, and above all, frightened. He didn't like that, not one bit. He was alone here. For the first time, his anger gave way to fear. The light on his horn sputtered out, leaving him once again shrouded in a murky veil.

In the blackness, something spoke.

"Greetings."

A deep, rumbling voice rolled out from somewhere behind him. Immediately, he spun back up - big mistake. The pain blossomed all over again in his chest, sending him crashing to the ground, which just brought on yet another wave of agony.

It was all he could do to ignite his horn again, gasping like a fish out of water.

Out of the dark stepped a monster. It was easily three times his size, dark blue, with a large, predatory head and a gaping bear-trap of a maw. Small, slitted pupils calculated his every movement, rooting him still. It moved with feline grace, a thin, whip of a tail ending in a grasping paw that lashed slowly behind it. "Ah," it said with an odd voice, "I was wondering where you'd gone. Come, on your hooves. She wants to see us. It is best to not keep her waiting." The light from his horn glimmered weirdly on the curious thick, golden rings it wore around its throat and forelegs. The choker about its neck had a scorched hole, right over the throat. He imagined that a large gem must have gone there, once.

"W-who...who are you?" he managed to right himself again, eyeing the creature warily. If it meant him danger, it would have done so already. He was defenseless in this state. "Where are we?"

Its grin was frighteningly large, shining, shark-like teeth gleaming.

"You do not remember, little pony?” the monster asked him, eyes widened with something between interest and malevolence.

“I remember nothing,” he admitted steadily, fixing the stare with one of his own.

It looked thoughtful for a moment, an expression he found looked somewhat ridiculous on its terrible face. “No matter. My name is Ahuitzotl. And this," he said, spreading his paws wide, "is Tartarus." Ahuitzotl's visage came within inches of his face. "Do you know what that means, little pony?" His breath smelled like blood.

He shook his head.

"It means that you are dead. Welcome to hell.”

He sat there, unmoving. How was that possible? He wasn’t dead. Banged up and amnesic, apparently, but he was alive, thank you very much. He was about to tell Ahuizotl off when the creature interrupted him.

“If you don’t belive me, then why is your little pony heart so still? I have seen this before, and it grows less amusing with each occasion. You would be wise not to test my patience. Now come, we are wasting time. The Grey could be upon us at a moment's notice. We must return while we can.” Ahuitzotl came about and began to pad away into a seemingly arbitrary direction.

He debated trying to conjure up some more magic to teach the monster a lesson, but none came to mind. In frustration, he placed a hoof on his chest. Fine, I’ll prove you wrong and end this charade, then I’ll get some real answers...

…

There was no heartbeat. His chest was a still as a corpse. He sat down in disbelief. There was no other explanation for it. His heart was not beating.

He was dead.

The implications of this were simply too great. His mind shut off, unable to comprehend this reality. Numbly, he got back up and plodded after the retreating figure. The light from his horn was much less intense than it had been before.

When he reached the beast’s side, he blankly asked, “Where are we going?” There was no emotion in his voice, nor his mind.

Ahuitzotl’s grin was frighteningly large, revealing row after row of serrated fangs. It didn't phase him in the slightest. He doubted anything would ever again.

“To meet your worst nightmare, little pony. We are going to see the devil...

…She has been waiting for you.”

Achievement Unlocked! - "It's Just A Flesh Wound."
Character Unlocked! - ???

-Perk: ???
Ally Gained: Ahuitzotl
Region Discovered: Tartarus

[I - First] In the Nick of Time

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O
T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G
An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

CHAPTER THE FIRST

In which a filly gives up hope, a certain chef shows kindness, and waffles are proposed.

Zanza

A small family of zebras were huddled around their wagon, inspecting the damage the rock had caused.

The father looked over the splintered wheel with interest, while the mother began setting up a small camp for the night. “Zanza, go back down the path, my child. Those berries we passed will taste good to eat, even better grown wild,” she said to the smaller zebra, a half-grown mare who’d yet to earn her tribe tattoo.

Zanza looked up from where she’d been shuffling around in the thick carpet of needles that covered the forest floor. “Those yellow ones, or the funny pink ones?”

Her mother paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I would prefer yellow, the flavor is mellow.”

Zanza nodded and scampered off down the path they’d been following for the past few days. Traveling across borders was tiring business, and the family needed every ounce of food and water they could get their hooves on. They were bound for far-off Appleoosa, after all. They had family there, a distant cousin who had arranged for some work and a place to stay. Her mother, a respected shaman, was needed to serve the fledgling zebra community that was taking root on the frontier. The ponies would need her help as well - they weren’t as used to zebras as living in wild country.

The trip hadn’t been that bad, Zanza reflected. At least, before they crossed the border. Equestria was vast and alien, and they had been journeying for a couple months now, all the way from the southern zebra lands of the Zavannah.

The setting sun dappled her striped coat as she trotted onwards down the path. Above, the mighty ironwood pines stretched higher than she would have thought possible. When they’d entered the forest, she’d been astounded (and a little bit frightened) to see that living things could grow so large.

She hated it here, though she’d never admit it to her mother and father. It was so hard to see the sky. After spending much of her foalhood on the open plains, it was like removing an eye. It was enclosed, and it made her extremely aware that she was a stranger here. She missed her village dearly, hidden in the tall grasses of the Zavannah where the plains were so vast they looked like an ocean of amber stalks.

She loved her parent dearly, but sometimes she wondered if they were in their right minds for doing something like this - and dragging her along for the ride, no less.

Zanza sighed to herself and continued down the path, the few golden rings she had looped around a foreleg softly clinking together. Her exotic teal eyes peered through the final moments of sunlight. She vaguely recalled the berries her mother had spoken about, maybe fifteen minutes or so back the way they’d come. It was good that she was starting to take a more active role in the trip. She wasn’t a foal anymore, but she was not yet a fully grown mare. Stuck in awkward adolescence for now, at least until she proved her worth to the tribe and earned her tattoo. She was determined to get it by the time she reached Appleoosa. Fetching food for dinner was trivial, but it was a start. Once she was grown, she’d have her mark, and would speak in rhyme.

She continued on, lost in her daydreams. She pictured herself with her mark, just like her parents’. She already knew what it would be. The tribe’s sigil had been a swirling bolt of lightning for centuries. Every tribe had a different one, signifying the deep bond between its members. On the Zavannah, it was important to work together, so that the group as a whole would prosper. Teamwork within the tribe was critical not just for day-to-day affairs, but for survival. Predators lurked within the sea of grass. Sticking together would deter them.

Distracted by her fancies, she tripped over a protruding root and toppled over, mashing her face into the ground. “Ptah!” she spat out a clump of needles that had somehow found their way into her mouth. Zanza sat up, looking around. It was dark, now. The ground beneath her hooves was not packed down like the path, it was soft and springy.

She abruptly realized that she had no idea where she was.

“Not now. Not now, of all times!” Zanza whined to the silent trees. She leapt to her hooves and spun, trying to find a landmark, anything that could tell her where the path was. I have the worst luck in the whole village, she bemoaned. The almost eerie sameness of the forest in any direction was unsettling.

She peered up through the dense canopy, trying to use the stars to get her bearings, but could barely see through it. What she did notice, however, was a ruddy glow coming some ways off to the left, illuminating the tips of the trees and wispy clouds that hung in the sky.

I thought the sun had set already, she thought to herself. When the scent of smoke hit her nostrils, her eyes widened in realization.

Fire!

On the Zavannah, it was more dangerous than hungry lions or crocodiles. Fire was a killer, uncaring of its victims and utterly without mercy. Entire villages had been wiped out by wildfires before. Every zebra knew the it was a thing to be feared and respected. She had to run. That was the only thing to be done. Running was the only sure way to survive, and even then, a bushfire in the dry season, with a stiff wind, could travel faster than a herd of gazelle.

The forest around her began to stir, its denizens beginning to sense the impending danger. A squirrel exploded from the trunk of a nearby tree and began to sprint away. Birds began to wake up again, sounding their alarm calls.

Zanza panicked. She had to find her parents. Now. But they could be anywhere! They could be at the fire! She gasped. They could be in trouble! She broke out into a dead run.

Zanza betrayed one of the most powerful instincts a zebra had.

She ran towards the fire.

“Mommaaaaa~!” she cried, tripping over a fallen log, before curling up as a massive buck leaped over her, quickly followed by his harem of does. She rolled wildly amongst the pine needles to avoid their thin cloven hooves stepping on her. Mercifully, none of the deer trampled her, and streaked away into the forest with their tails held high in fear.

She leapt to her hooves and scurried on through the pines, holding a foreleg up to her mouth to avoid breathing in the pall that was beginning to stain the sky black. Something dashed past her. Something big. But it paid her no mind, and so she continued on, heart hammering in her chest. She was half-sobbing now, breaths hitching in her chest.

“Poppa! Mommaaaaaa~!” she cried again.

Why had she listened to them? If she had stayed by the camp, they’d still be together, and she wouldn’t be alone in this stupid, scratchy forest. She wouldn’t be so alone...

Zanza wiped her tear-streaked face, and pressed on. She crested a small hill, and loosed a gasp before she fell to her knees in despair.

A solid sheet of flames faced her through the trees, not even a hundred yards away. She could see it through the dense ironwood trunks, turning the forest floor into a twisted, flat smile. One of the mighty trees toppled over in the distance, letting out a sigh and a groan, as if it were relieved to finally come to rest.

Her parents were somewhere nearby, she knew. They had to be!

The filly looked on as the fire kept spreading. Even from here, she could hear its roar, a whooshing moan, accompanied a constant blast in the face with hot wind.

Suddenly, the fire jumped from tree to tree, the nearby ironwoods finally succumbing to the blaze. The flames leapt from treetop to treetop, turning the mighty pines into monolithic torches. For a moment, Zanza imagined that the fire was alive, hunting her. The front advanced a couple dozen yards in the span of seconds.

She watched as the ground erupted into a seething mass of heat, the dry needles catching alight and covering the earth with a literal sea of fire.

And the tide was coming in.

“Mommmaaaaa! Poppaaaaaa~!” she cried once again. They had to hear her! They just had to! This whole nightmare would be over if she could just get to them!

The filly trotted back and forth, wracked with indecision. Every second she stayed, the tide of flames advanced another yard. But her parents were beyond it! She screamed with frustration, yanking at the short, striped mohawk that ran down her head and neck.

“I don’t know what to do!” she yelled at the flames. “Help me!”

Her only answer was a deafening POP-POP-POP! as the ironwood cones exploded from the heat like popcorn kernels. She shrieked and covered her ears, ducking as a piece of flaming cone whizzed by her head and crashed into the ground some way behind her.

Her eyes widened as she saw the ground erupt where the cone had crashed, ignited by the flames. Faster than she could believe, the flames raced towards her, around her, encircling her in a vortex of heat and light. She screamed again as she felt the tip of her tail begin to singe.

“HEEEEEEEEELLLLLP!”

Then, something very strange happened.

Solid limbs wrapped around her midsection and held her tight, pulling, pulling. She looked down, astounded, as the ground began to recede, the spot she had been standing in a split second before was now awash with fire. The treetops began to pass by her now, and then, she was above them, moving gracefully over the forest.

She was...flying?

Zanza craned her neck around, and found herself staring a pegasus pony, or at least the side of her that she could see. The pegasus was gliding easily on the thermal updrafts created by the forest fire, dusky tan wings barely even flapping. She -for Zanza noticed the slimness of her figure- was wearing a pale green pocketed shirt, sleeves rolled up at her elbows. A mane, streaked black, grey, and silver, like a colorless rainbow, whipped out from underneath a khaki pith helmet worn at a jaunty angle over the mare’s head. Zanza couldn’t tilt her head back far enough to see her face.

“You alright, kiddo?” the pegasus asked her. She had a raspy sort of voice. Zanza wondered who she was speaking to.

“Y-yes, ma’am...” she croaked. She must have swallowed more smoke than she thought.

The pegasus angled her wings, and they began cruising away from the fire. “It’s not often you find anypony in these parts,” the mare said, “even less often when you find one trying to run into a forest fire! Care to explain what you were thinking, there?”

Zanza coughed up a glob of black spit. Gross! “I w-was trying to get-t to my parents.”

She could almost feel the mare frown. “Your parents? You mean there are more ponies back there?”

Not ponies, zebras. Zanza weakly nodded, suddenly feeling tired.

They began to descend at a fast pace. Branches whipped by them, but Zanza was starting to feel distant and sleepy, and they didn’t bother her, even when one smacked her in the face.

She felt the scratchy needles against her side. The mare had set her down on the forest floor.

“We’re going to find your folks, don’t you worry,” her rescuer sated, backing off a few paces to unfurl her wings again. “Coconut, you take care of her until we get back. I think there’s some aloe in the library. Mix it with a healing salve.”

A new voice spoke up, weirdly accented. “I got it, Darin’. Hiya!” A strong, but gentle hoof rolled her over onto her back. She found herself looking up into the face a of another pony, a stallion, this one a deep chocolate, with a short, cropped mane of a bright yellow color. He gave her a reassuring, yet loopy sort of smile. “I’m Coconut, and we’re rescuin’ ye!” Zanza blinked, unsure of what to make of that.

Daring, she mused to herself. Like Daring Do, the famous pony explorer? Like from that book series? She took a double take on her rescuer. Sure enough, the pegasus looked exactly like the cover of the books, right down to her magenta eyes and her trademark whip coiled about her waist.

Zanza was utterly dumbstruck.

Yet another voice sounded, this one gruff but feminine. “What’s the extent of the fire?” Zanza turned her head to the side to see that another pony had appeared, this one a unicorn mare, with a pale cinnamon coat, a red and orange mane that was uncomfortably like the flames she had just escaped, and the most startlingly green eyes she’d ever seen.

“About a couple thousand yards back that way,” she heard her rescuer say. “It’s not that big right now, so far it’s contained within a valley. But this filly’s parents are still there. Ginger, we might be able to reach them if we move fast”

The second mare, whom Zanza assumed was the one called “Ginger,” paused for a moment, before conceding, “Fine. Whatever. You watch out from above. I’ll head in on the ground. Echo!” she called. Something big flickered on the edge of Zanza’s vision, accompanied by a flash of dark green. It went to sit right next to Daring Do, who briefly nuzzled the figure. “You get the others moving. We’ll meet you back across the river, where we crossed. Set up the camp where we had it. Now GO!”

Zanza felt herself picked up and laid across the strong back of the stallion. He began to move away from the two mares, who had turned back towards the fire, the glow of which could be seen even from here. The pegasus snapped her wings down in a powerful stroke and zipped up into the sky as if she had been yanked by an invisible cord. Zanza watched in astonishment as the unicorn’s horn lit up a sharp, pale emerald, and her body rippled as motes of green-tinged flames began to shimmer around her coat. The unicorn gave an irritated snort, expelling a small cloud of steam, before charging off through forest, seemingly unfazed by the enroaching fire.

A soft rumbling noise filled the air, one she recognized as the sound of wagon wheels turning. Other large shapes moved alongside her and Coconut, but through the smog and her addled mind, Zanza couldn’t place them. Her head was swimming with exhaustion.

After a time, Coconut came to a halt. Zanza coughed as he gently slid her off his back. They had come to the edge of a thick river. The shapes that had been following them melted out of the trees, joining a larger one that had stopped before them at the river’s edge. Zanza squinted for a moment, before it finally hit her.

Diamond dogs, she realized with dread. Almost ten of them, clad in ragged clothes and armed with a patchwork assortment of crude weapons.

In the Zavannah, such creatures were rare. It was not a very gem-rich land, of which were staples of the diamond dog diet. As a result, they had simply died off, or turned pure carnivore, and at that point were driven far from zebra lands.

One of them, an enormous, stocky black female with a squashed-looking face and armed with a massive wooden maul, went over from the gathering to Coconut. Zanza clung to him as if she were at risk of being blown away. “River too high for pony,” the diamond dog spoke in a broken sort of way, “we carry nutpony and littlepony.”

Coconut, whom she had addressed as “nutpony,” nodded. “What about the wagons?” he asked her.

The female stomped the butt of her maul into the forest floor. It was easily eight feet long, and yet seemed a thin little stick in her paws. “Echo say we bring over after ponies.”

Coconut bounced in place. “This'll be fun! I like swimmin’.” He began to nudge her towards the river.

“W-wait,” she sputtered, “what’s going on? Who are you all?”

“I’m Coconut Fronds,” her stallion said to her again, as though pleased to remember his own name. “And these here are some of me packmates. We’re gonna be gettin’ ye ta safety, all right? Nothin’ ta be worried about.”

“Packmates...?” she asked blankly. “But they’re diamond dogs...”

“Yup! And I’m a pony! Isn’t that neat?”

Zanza suddenly felt the onset of a headache. “N-no, I mean why are you with them.”

“‘Cuz they’re me packmates, that’s why! Didn’t I already tell ye that? Ye musta breathed in more smoke than ye thought. The big mean one is Boxer,” he said, pointing to the female that had addressed them earlier. “The dotty one drinking by the river is Spot.” Coconut went on to point out each one of the diamond dogs, most of which stoically ignored them, but a few gave a polite nod or a gravelly word of greeting. Finally, Coconut came to the last of them. “This big fluffball here is Echo. He’s Beta. That means second-in-command. ”

The last diamond dog was an oddity. He was large, taller then most of the others, but lanky. His fur was different, too - instead of the short, dense hair the others sported, he had a shaggy, reddish-brown coat, with a creamy patch down the underside of his face, throat, and chest. Zanza noticed a thick, gleaming scar ran across his throat, parting the fur in an ugly gash. From his neck hung a golden compass. Unlike the simple vestments the others wore, he had on a dark green sleeveless robe that reached to his knees, a hood thrown over his head with slits cut for his tufted ears, and open down the front. A pale blue sash was tied around his waist like a belt, and faded cloth strips were wrapped around his forearms down from the elbows, over which thick metal bracers gleamed in the firelight. He carried a staff with him, laced with the mystic runes of a zebra shaman.

Zanza focused on his staff with confusion. How did a diamond dog get a hold of a shaman’s medicine staff? They were precious relics, passed down from generation to generation.

Echo peered out at her from under his hood. She could see the faintest twinkling of his eyes, but his hood cast most of his face in shadow. He held out a massive wrapped paw to her. Zanza instinctively flinched backwards and cowered by Coconut’s side, but the large stallion only laughed. “He ain’t gonna hurt ye, missy. He just wants ta talk, see? Put your hoof in his paw. Can’t talk to ye unless he’s touchin’ ye.”

“T-talk?” The stress of the day was seriously taking a toll on her. Hesitantly, she complied with Coconut’s instructions, pressing a trembling hoof into the creature’s paw. It was softer than she expected, and warm, too. Immediately, she was overcome with the strangest sensation, as if a soft, fuzzy blanket had been placed around her head.

“Hello, young one,” a deep, solemn voice said.

Echo had not moved his muzzle at all. Zanza looked around again. Who had said that? The other diamond dogs were busy pulling a trio of wagons from the trees to the river’s edge, each one with a reinforced bottom meant for crossing high-watered fjords. Her parent’s wagon had been built like that as well. One of the constructs was enormous, a six-wheeled behemoth that resembled a sleek house more than a wagon. Coconut was standing nearby, a mischievous look on his face as he eyed the large one.

“Who said that?” she asked warily.

“I did,” came the voice again.

She spun back towards the diamond dog, who’s muzzle now sporting a small smile. “You?” she queried in disbelief.

He nodded. With his free paw, he pointed a finger at the old scar across his neck. “I lost my true voice a long time ago.”

“Oh,” Zanza said lamely. At a loss for words, she added, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Do not be. I have grown in ways that I could not have with it. Magic had replaced what once was flesh and bone.” Echo shrugged. “Now, little one. We must cross this river to reach safety from the fire while we still have time. Would you permit me to carry you?”

Zanza was...stunned, to say the least. She had heard terrible stories about how cruel and coarse diamond dogs could be. Stories about how they enslaved zebras and ponies alike to work in their gem mines...she had even heard stories about them eating their captives! But these diamond dogs didn’t seem to be anything like that. Echo especially. Her parents would never believe this. A diamond dog with manners? Even if he did have a stolen shaman’s staff, he didn’t seem all that bad.

She didn’t trust him. She didn’t trust any of them. But what other choice did she have?

“Uhm...okay?”

She squeaked as she suddenly found herself heaved into the air to come to a rest over his back, her forelegs dangling over his shoulders. “Hold on tight,” came his weirdly disembodied voice.

Zanza barely had time to respond before she felt the diamond dog break into motion, swiftly taking a few bounding lopes before hurling himself out into the river. They broke the surface with a mighty splash, and Zanza greedily slurped up as much of the crystal clear river water as she possibly could. The diamond dog heaved beneath her, kicking out at the water in powerful strokes. They crossed the river in good time, and Zanza felt a good deal cleaner now than before. When they crested the opposite shore, Echo reached up and gently placed her on the ground, before starting in shock. “You’re a zebra?” his voice came again before he released her.

Zanza shook herself off. “Couldn’t you tell?”

The diamond dog placed a paw over her withers. “No, you were black with smoke and soot!” He grinned, a flash of white from beneath his hood. He started shaking for a moment. Zanza was worried that he was having a fit of some kind, before she realized he was laughing!

“What’s so funny?” she demanded crossly.

He offered her a paw again, and she placed her hoof on it.

“You looked like a pony before. A very...dirty pony. I apologize, but this is a bit of a shock. I have never met a zebra. May I have your name, little one?”

“Zanza,” she said hesitantly. “And my parents are back the other way, so I’m not the only zebra around here.”

Echo looked back across the river, where the other dogs were beginning to cross, some tied to curious metal harnesses, pulling the wagons, while others swam behind, pushing the floating vehicles across. Coconut could be seen riding atop the largest one, dramatically posing on the roof. “Ahooooooy, there!” he called.

Beside her, Echo smacked himself in the face with his paw.

“What?” Zanza asked.

“Sometimes, I just can’t believe I hang around these idiots.”

“Okay?” Zanza said, more confused than ever. Echo gave her a short bow and left for the shore, helping to haul the first rickety wagon out of the water. The moment he stopped touching her, that odd fuzzy feeling around her head vanished. Zanza shivered.

She shook herself off some more and had another drink from the river, eager to soothe her scorched throat. The other dogs and Coconut managed to float all three wagons across with little trouble, and each were hauled a short distance onto the bank before getting locked into place with small stones jammed under the wheels.

Coconut found her again, and gestured towards the largest wagon, the one with six wheels. He shook his head in disbelief as he saw her. “I’ll be! A zebra!”

“My name is Zanza. And so what if I’m a zebra?” Zanza snapped. Why were they making such a big deal out of this?

“Zebras are cool.” He frowned, peering at her closely. Zanza awkwardly shuffled her hooves. “Come wit me, I’ll get ye somethin’ for those burns ye sportin’ there.”

“Burns?” She examined herself for the first time, and saw that her black and white stripes were singed and patchy in some places. She wearily sighed, casting a glance back over the river, to where the flames had advanced within spitting distance of the opposite shore. “Are you sure those other two ponies can find my parents?” she asked him worriedly.

Coconut followed her gaze, thoughtfully biting a lower lip. “If there’s anypony who can do somethin’ that stupidly heroic, it’s Darin’ Do and Ginger Snap. Now let’s get ye out of the smoke and inside where it’s safe.”

Zanza hesitated. She wanted to watch for the return of the two mares, leading her two parents out of the blaze. She was too tired to protest, though, and went with him without argument.

She followed him into the largest wagon, and stopped in disbelief at what she saw.

“It’s bigger on the inside,” she said. “Of course. As if I expected this to make sense as well!”

The inside of the wagon was enormous. A large common room took up the center of the space, with doors on two opposing walls and a well provisioned kitchen on the far side. Several throwaway cushions were scattered across the floor, centered around a thick, worn-looking table the size of her family’s tent.

She was just coming to terms with how in the stars that was possible when one of the cushions exploded in a shower of confetti and small pieces of candy.

BANG!

“SURPRISE!”

Zanza wasn’t sure how she ended up clinging behind Coconut’s sturdy frame, but she did know that when she became aware of her surroundings again, he was scolding somepony. “Disarray, ye gone and scared the poor filly senseless!” She peeked out from behind the stallion to see who he was talking to.

Her jaw hit the floor.

Standing nonchalantly in the remains of what had once been a throwaway cushion was a creature that looked like it had been glued together with a bunch mismatched body parts. It was tall, with a wry, scaled snake-like body. A purple, draconic face gazed at her, with a mix of mischief and interest in glimmering pink eyes. A thick moustache of several colors sprouted from his fanged muzzle, floating serenely in an invisible wind. Each of his appendages were different. One of his arms was snow white and furry, like that of a bear, while the other was red and covered in a shell, ending in a massive crushing claw, vaguely similar to a lobster she had seen once. It was standing on its hind legs; one of which was a lion’s, the other was that of an ostrich. A long, tan, whip-like tail covered in fur extended out behind it, capped with four spikes extending out from the sides. Two wings fluttered by its sides, one that looked to be from a massive wasp, and the other seemed to be the wing of a peacock.

The monstrosity leaned towards her and grinned, before snorting a puff of smoke out its draconic nostrils.

“Boo.”

In that instant, Zanza drew upon centuries of survival skills, honed by ancestral experience and drilled in by endless lessons from her parents and peers. She was backed into a corner, with no way out. Only one possible thing to do!

Zanza leaped onto Coconut’s back, swiftly pivoted on her forlegs, and bucked the thing as hard as she could.

POW!

It reared back, clutching at its muzzle. Coconut was laughing uproariously, shaking so badly that he threw Zanza off. “Oh, right in the face! She hit me in the face! That filly has got a cannon for a leg,” it was whimpering. A small flock of bluebirds were flying around its head. It ran a reptilian tongue over its fangs. “Am I missing anything? I feel like I just got an anvil dropped on my mouth!”

Coconut was still snickering. “Ha-har! She kicked out your tooth!”

The creature snapped its fingers, and a mirror popped into existence. It held it up, inspecting itself. “So she did. How fitting, I look just like my dear old man, now.” Sure enough, one of the oversized canines had vanished. It leaned down onto the floor and picked it up, using the massive lobster claw with surprising delicacy. The monster banished the mirror with a snap of its fingers and ominously gazed down at the filly, who was still trembling behind Coconut.

Unbelievably, he extended a paw and smiled broadly. “I like you! My name is Disarray, and you are now officially best pony. Zebra. My bad.” Before she could react, he slipped the tooth into the golden rings she wore around her forelegs.

Zanza flinched away, and scooted backwards until she came up against a wall. "W-w-what are you?"

"I am many things, dear filly, you see, and known as many as well. I am a draconequus! A bringer of chaos, hilarity, and, well...disarray." He leaned forward, nodding seriously. "I'd elaborate further, but I'm not scheduled for a musical number until later. Take it up with the writer."

Abruptly, there was small bang and a flash, and where the draconequus had once stood, was now a very tall unicorn, the color of the underside of a cloud, with a pure white mane, that, along with the rainbow moustache,seemed to flow in a nonexistent breeze. The ridiculously colorful cloak it wore was whipped away as the pony flared its powerful wings wide, the long horn atop its head cracking with sparks and light.

"But wait, there's more! I am also Entropy! The former self-exiled Prince of Equestria, now returned after several millennium of absence!" he announced grandly, a dramatic breeze making his cloak flutter like a cape. He gave Zanza a wink. "I'm a walking, talking contradiction, and not the juicy, colorfully wrapped kind, either." The pony whirled around, rearing his hooves wide. "And all this for the wonderfully low price of 19.99! Call our toll-free hotline in the next ten minutes are receive a complimentary bobble head," he said mildly. "Plus shipping and handling." In another flash, the pony vanished, and the patchwork creature was in his place, idly inspecting his lobster claw as if nothing had happened.

Zanza stood there, gawping at him for a full half-minute.

“I-I-I don’t know what’s going on,” she finally wailed. “First I’m fine, I’m just looking for some food to bring back to eat, and then I got lost! Then the fire...but I get rescued up by Daring Do, for stars’ sake! And then, I get thrown across a river with a p-pack of weird diamond dogs, one of which talks with his mind! Finally, I end up inside a place that shouldn’t exist,” she gestured wildly with her hooves, near hysterics, now, “and that thing scared me so badly I hit it and I d-don’t know what’s going on! I just want my p-parents!” She finally broke down into sobs.

Through the tears, she heard the door to the wagon opening, before something picked her up and held her tight.

“Hush, now, quiet now

It’s time to lay your sleepy head

Hush, now, quiet now

It’s time to go to bed

Drifting off to sleep

The exciting day behind you

Drifting off to sleep

Let the good dreams find you.”

She remembered her mother singing that to her when she was still little and scared of the dark. When the lullaby had ended, Zanza found that she felt much better. She opened her eyes to find herself wrapped in a gentle embrace with Coconut, who was grinning at her warmly.

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, the stallion awkwardly placed her back on the ground as she sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Er. Sorry. But ye looked like ye needed a hug, right there."

A shuffle behind them alerted her to Echo as he made himself known, a faint smile on his muzzle as he left the doorway. He knelt down and offered a paw. She took it. “I know you have gone through a lot today young one, but please do not worry. I promise you that we will help you find your parents and get you to wherever it was you were going. Rest now, and we will explain everything to you in the morning.”

Zanza sniffled again. “You mean it?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye,” he made a rather silly motion with his free paw, somehow poking himself in the eye, “ow. Do not worry. A gentleman always keeps his promises.” He pulled back his hood to reveal a noble, wolfish face and gray eyes. One of his tufted ears had a deep, V-shaped gap in it. He winked at her. “That's just considered good manners, you know.”

Didn’t he mean a gentlecolt? Echo released her and went to go sit at the table, where an enormous map was spread out, covered in pins and notes and strings.

Coconut patted her on the withers. “Let’s get ye taken care of. We’ll get ye some aloe and find ye a place ta kip for the night. Oh! I know, ye can have the study!”

The monster called Disarray spoke up, looking somewhat offended. "Ahem. "

Coconut's eyes lit up. "Aw, don't worry, Dissy! Ye can stay in my room tonight!" He gasped, "we can have a sleepover and stuff!" He began to hop in place, an act that looked ridiculous given his impressive size.

Disarray nodded seriously. "Sleepover? I can dig that. We gon' stay up late, swappin' manly stories..." He suddenly gave a heroic pose, looking off in an arbitrary direction. "An' in the mornin'? I'm makin' waffles." With that, the creature spun on a heel and sprinted towards one of the doors on the opposite wall with a cry of "I call the top bunk!"

Zanza simply stared after him, until her head nodded forward in exhaustion. She was barely capable of keeping her eyes open. Coconut led her into another room and directed her to lay down on a narrow fold-down cot in the corner. Zanza glanced around her surroundings. The walls were stacked with more books than she had ever seen in her life. A thick desk in the corner was covered with strange glass appliances, tubes and bowls and all sorts of funny equipment. She took note of the fact that the floor surrounding the desk had the appearance of being scorched on more than one occasion.

“Here ye are, drink up!” Coconut passed her a healing potion. Zanza gulped it down. The stallion opened a jar up and, after a cursory sniff, dipped a hoof into it and began to spread a thin, blue, paste-like salve onto her burns. Zanza sighed at the blissful cooling sensation.

It was the last thing she felt before she fell asleep.

Achievement Unlocked! - "Do You Smell Bacon? I Smell Bacon."
Character Unlocked! - Zanza

- Perk: Striped Camouflage (+10 stealth in groups) Natural herd instincts let you blend in with the crowd. Put on a hood and get yourself a hidden blade, and you'd make a great assassin.
Ally Gained! - Coconut Fronds

- Perk(?): Coco-nutcase: (-5 intelligence, +10 Micheal J. Caboose) You're pretty much an idiot.
Region Discovered: The Ironwood Stands

[I - Second] It Takes Two to Tango

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

CHAPTER THE SECOND
In which an alien remembers, a family is encountered, and dirty jokes are made.

Daring Do and Echo

Echo was steadily approaching his first birthday.

The diamond dog had been journeying for many months now, long having left behind the place of his origin, the vast rainforest in the southeastern pocket of Equestria.

His birth had been rather unconventional. Being punted across the dimensional plane by a particular Lord of Chaos and waking up inside of a coffin, not to mention a new body, tended to allow for such a description.

Echo was by no means a pup. He’d well over two decades of experience to draw upon, although such knowledge rarely applied to Equestria. New world, new body, new rules. The body he was in at the moment was almost a year old, despite being fully grown for the entirety of its existence.

Once, he’d counted himself as a member among the human race. He’d traveled and fought and worked and learned like so many others of his former species. At least until a disguised Discord had offered him the chance to see a new world - Equestria, the place he’d seen only on tv or read about on paper. Like any rational human, he’d jokingly accepted Discord’s offer, quite sure that the folks from the nearest mental hospital would be arriving on the scene shortly to apprehend their escaped patient.

The rest, as they say, was history.

He’d never revealed his origins to anyone, not Coconut, not Ginger, not even Daring Do. In his opinion, it was better to be perceived as an oddity among an existing species, rather than a true alien.

Only Discord, and his son Disarray knew. Discord was in no fit state to tell anyone at the moment, locked away in his prison, and Disarray simply wanted to watch it all explode in his face by his own fault.

Echo flexed his hind paws as he stood by the riverbank, his strong stubby toes easily sinking into the needle-covered loam. He stood tall and silent, laying his staff across his shoulders as he watched the forest across the river burn.

Ironwood pines were notoriously hard to ignite. Their thick trunks were known to be able to withstand terrible punishment. Oftentimes, airships were constructed out of it. The blaze must be intense if the trees were catching so easily. He furrowed his brow. Fire was not something he was fond of, a fact he found humorous, given his ancient ancestors and their reliance on the stuff. Especially after the Battle of Wethoof, one of the first of a slowly accumulating list of his misadventures. He glanced down at his arms, covered in cloth wrapping from the elbows down, thick metal vambraces strapped on over that. Beneath lay the results of battle.

Echo watched as an enormous flaming ironwood slowly toppled, falling straight across the river and sending up a cloud of sparks and flaming twigs. He dived to the side, the tree slamming into the ground where he had been standing half a heartbeat earlier. The diamond dog stood back up, trembling slightly as he frantically brushed away the embers that had landed on him. Too close, he thought. I hope they’re alright over there...

The diamond dog sat down, hard. It was almost useless to worry about mares like Daring Do and Ginger Snap. Once they got an idea into their heads, it was more or less impossible to dissuade them. Still, he couldn’t help but get a sinking feeling in his gut whenever Daring went out alone like this. Ginger, he knew, was more or less invulnerable to the flames thanks to her talent of elemental magic, specializing in fire in particular. Daring, though, was at risk. Granted, the pegasus was in the air, riding on the uplifting thermals created by the blaze...but one wrong move, and the treacherous winds would dump her into the inferno.

He would have gone with them, but someone had to guide the pack.

That, and the fire...

Fire was the reason why he wore wrappings over his paws now. Underneath was pale, scarred skin, hairless and ugly. It had burned him so bad that his claws had to be surgically removed. He kept one as a memento, even now, tucked into the sash across his waist. The material, once strong enough to cut and crush solid rock, had been baked brittle and flaking.

The conjurer of said flames was currently across the river, trotting through the destruction. His Alpha, and leader of the Cinderwings, Ginger Snap was a mare to be reckoned with. At Wethoof, they’d worked together to bring down Ahuitzotl, although it had only been accomplished by Echo holding their enemy still while Ginger unleashed her balefire. He respected her deeply, but feared her a little as well. Perhaps that was why he had challenged her only once for leadership, and even then simply because the pack would not respect her authority unless she could prove herself in combat. Needless to say, she’d wiped the floor with him.

Echo softly growled to himself, a deep rumbling that rose out of the center of his chest. One of the few noises he could still make. Worrying wouldn’t help them. He needed to relax, to maintain the sanguine facade he was known for.

He crossed his legs and closed his eyes tight, tucking his tail around his waist so that it rested on his thigh. He took a deep breath and slumped his shoulders as he felt his body grow still. Another deep breath. His heart slowed as he found his inner focus.

The sounds of the fire faded away into the background, a hissing and crackling that dissolved into white noise. He felt the peculiar sensation of falling, although he could still feel the sensation of the ironwood needles on his rump.

He abruptly slammed an open palm into the ground.

Time seemed to pause. Through his closed eyelids, he sensed the tiny ripple of magic radiate out around him. The world lit up in his mind’s eye, the outlines of trees and plants and pine needles all shown in the faintest silvery contrast to the black. He even watched as a gust of wind came up behind him and ruffled the hood he wore. When the breeze moved, it glittered and sparkled like stardust. He sensed the world in all directions.

“Starsight,” it was called. A technique of expanding one’s consciousness on a burst of raw undirected magic, developed by none other than Starswirl the Bearded himself. Echo had stumbled across this ability after the the telepathy spell had gone so wrong.

Or had it gone right? He and Daring were still living with the repercussions...

Ginger scowled as she read the inscription on the open page of the tome. “And you say this is supposed to...what, enchant him or something?”

Daring shook her head from her usual perch on his back. “Starswirl invented the spell to allow limited telepathy for natural-born mutes. It taps into the intrinsic magic that all living things have. Echo has just as much magic in him as any pony, but unlike unicorns or pegasi, he can’t actively use it. The spell is actually modeled after the pegasus’ use of magic. Touch-based, actually, like how we work with clouds. He can’t speak to you unless he’s in contact, or so the book says.”

They were outside, the massive caravan they’d dubbed the Shagwagon parked under the shade of a nearby field. Echo was standing on all fours in the center of a runic circle carved into the dirt by Ginger, the mystic symbols designed to funnel the spell and focus the magics properly.

Ginger took another glance at the detailed spell-tome. She frowned. “You know I’m not good with this kind of magic, right? Elemental is my turf. This arcane mumbo-jumbo...I don’t think this is a good idea. What if something goes wrong?”

Echo shook his head slowly, while Daring gave her a reassuring look. “Don’t worry. He’s been debating this for weeks now. We might as well try it than never have given it a shot. Besides, I’m tired of having him scratch things out on paper when he has something to say. We both want this. And both of us trust you, Ginger.” She nuzzled the side of his neck, soothing his apprehensive nerves. Daring could read him like a book, and had only grown more adept at interpreting his vague gestures as they’d grown closer since Wethoof. Despite being mates for only a few weeks, sometimes it felt like they’d known each other for much longer.

“...Okay. Leave him in the circle and I’ll take a crack at it.”

From a hammock of cotton-candy clouds suspended beneath the tree, Disarray spoke up, “When he dies, can I have his room? It’s not like he uses it for sleeping much these days...if you know what I mean,” he called. Disarray had not yet reached his metamorphosis yet, and so lacked several of his adult characteristics, notably a lack of wings, and sported four different arms instead of two.

“Doesn’t get much sleep in my room, either!” Daring saucily shot back, throwing her mate a cheeky wink.

Coconut roared with laughter from his perch on top of the Shagwagon, where he’d been sunning himself.

Echo was immensely glad he was wearing a hood. The rush of heat he felt to his face was almost unbearable.

Ginger snorted to herself before joining the pegasus outside the circle, leaving Echo alone inside. She gave the book one last glance, muttering the instructions to herself, before gently pushing Daring away. “Stay back, I’m going to need a lot of power for this.”

With that, Ginger slid her trademark black welding goggle over her eyes. It was cloudy out, though Ginger needed them to avoid blinding herself when using her magic. She tensed and released her magic, surrounding herself in a pale green aura, wisps of flames caressing her cinnamon coat. Her fiery mane and tail swayed and flickered violently, seemingly alive. A dull thrum of magic filled the air.

“Ready?” she called.

Echo hesitated for a split second, then nodded, pushing himself upright and placing his palms together, as though in meditation. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He’d been silent for too long. After he’d lost his enchanted claws, writing had been the only replacement, though it was cumbersome and slow.

The glow of magic surrounding Ginger’s horn suddenly brightened, quickly becoming enveloped by a second layer as she built up her power for the spell. The overglow intensified again, shaping itself into a third layer. Ginger winced and groaned audibly. The clouds over head began to darken and swirl above her ominously. A warm wind began to rip through the meadow. The hum of magic was becoming almost deafening. He felt it in his bones.

When she hit four layers of overglow, the runes surrounding Echo lit up the same brilliant color as her magic. He watched in astonishment as the unicorn kept piling on the power. A stab of doubt in his mind grew with the rising tides of magic.

Daring yelled over the noise of wind. “Is this supposed to be happening? Ginger? Ginger!”

The unicorn couldn’t respond properly. From behind her goggles, her eyes were burning intensely. A faint twist of magical steam leaked out from behind them. “I...don’t know! Never...charged...this much...before!” A fifth layer of overglow wrapped about her horn. The tip began to violently spark. The grasses around her hooves had turned black from the heat, and an ominous rumble of thunder could be heard from the clouds above.

“I think you should stop it before you lose control!”

There was a pause. Echo felt his heart surge to his throat.

“Too late!”

As the sixth layer of overglow formed, a fork of lightning roared down from the clouds and struck Ginger right on the tip of her horn. There was a blinding flash of light as her energies overloaded. She screeched in pain and the spell was released.

An enormous bolt of magic ripped out of her horn and struck Echo right between the eyes, snapping his head back so fast that his neck cracked. In that instant, his body was utterly saturated with magic, filling him with the horrendous sensation of his blood lighting on fire. If he had a voice, he would have been screaming. Somehow, his vision was shifting - one moment he was watching Ginger slowly crumple to the ground, the next, he was watching himself jerk around like a puppet, rooted in place by his rear claws, which had locked themselves into the ground from the shock. Somehow, he kept seeing...more and more and more, in all directions...alien sensations shrieked through his nervous system.

Daring was there, yelling something incoherent. She reached out with a hoof. An inch before it made contact, the excess magic in his body leapt the gap in the form of another bolt of lightning, striking her and making her seize up, wings stiff as boards, mane standing on end. Her magenta eyes flashed brilliantly.

And just like that, it was over. They collapsed together in twitching heap, arcs of magical discharge occasionally licking their bodies.

The last thing Echo felt before he slipped into unconsciousness was something spearing the inside of his mind, flooding his brain with foreign thoughts and images he had never experienced. Somewhere, deep in his mind, something had taken root, a foreign presence that seemed frighteningly alien and yet all too familiar...

He’d gained telepathy, to be sure. But the supercharged spell had sensitized him to the natural flow of ambient magic. He was chock full of power, although he could no more cast a spell than Coconut could. His power, diamond dog magic, was intrinsic, internal. It let them burrow through solid rock like it was made of wet paper, absorb nutrients from the arcane gems that Equestria was littered with, and fight like demons when their blood was up.

Daring’s intervention, though, had come with an added bonus.

Echo searched further, pouring his strength into the pulse of energy he’d sent rippling through the leylines.

There. A mote amongst the rippling vibrations shining like a star high above the world, riding the rivers of twinkling wind. He focused on it, drawing the ripple back and forming it into a mental tether, linking him to the mote.

Any progress? he asked her.

The response was slow and patchy, as it tended to get at large distances. Daring’s thoughts sounded in his head, and he could almost feel them in his bones.

Still looking...Ginger’s pissed about...something. As...usual. Loving this fire, though...want a taste?

When Echo had taken in all that magic, his body simply couldn't absorb it all. Such a large amount of power could not stay in one place. When Daring Do had intervened, all the excess energy coursing through his veins was discharged...into her.

The result had bound them together at the proverbial hip, so to speak. Echo’s telepathy was vastly stronger with her, not needing physical touch to communicate. Over time, though, they’d learned that they’d become closer in soul as well as mind. Sharing thoughts and emotions was not uncommon, the pair drawing off of eachother in a delicate balance that benefitted them both.

...And, when one lowered their mental barriers enough, their counterpart could, with some assistance, “hitch a ride.”

Echo gladly accepted, pouring himself outwards, briefly hanging in the void before the tether linking the two began to tighten. He felt her drawing him in, and then he was surrounded by her familiar warmth, a sort of mental spiciness that made him tingle all over. They meshed together, smoothly exchanging a sense of mutual affection and wonder.

He opened his eyes, and he was flying.

Wow, the heat feels good on the wings, he commented, savoring the sensation of the thermals caressing her flight feathers. Daring’s grayscale mane errantly flipped across his vision. Her dusky tan hoof rose up to brush it away.

Like taking a bubble bath. Daring made a sharp bank, scanning the ground below. There, amidst the burning forest, the glowing figure of Ginger Snap, as she made her way towards the last known location of the zebra filly’s parents.

Flying the flames was a tricky business. The chaotic ebbs and flows of the heat caused the skies above to become a roiling storm of rouge winds. Twice, Daring was dumped into a spot of cold air, plummeting rapidly before she could power-stroke into another rising thermal. She could feel Echo’s concern for her, but gave him a mental squeeze of reassurance. She’d been in worse situations.

The intrepid mare soared high on particularly energetic column of hot air, grinning wildly to herself at the feeling of wind under her wings. She peered down, keen eyes immediately sighting her Alpha below. She was approaching the ridge of a small valley, where the filly’s parents were supposedly camped. The depression had not yet alit, but the lower ground was acting like a magnet for all of the smoke, pooling in it like water.

Daring tucked her wings to her body and dove. The air tore at her face, and the the transparent second eyelids all pegasi were born with instinctively flicked down to shield her sensitive vision. After several hundred feet of free-fall, she snapped out her wings with a whoop of exhilaration, passing into a canyon of cool air between two lines of fire. She skimmed the treetops, now, searching the pall below for any sign of life.

You’re utterly insane, you know that, right? She could feel his heart racing all the way from the other side of the river.

Daring merely smiled all the wider. You’re enjoying it too, hon. Besides, would you have me any other way?

He gave a mental sigh of feigned exasperation. You're lucky I like crazy. Odin forbid you ended up with someone who couldn’t keep up with you.

On an adventure and in the sack. Daring laughed to herself at how quickly he became embarrassed when she teased him like that. There was truth to it, though. Daring Do had had her share of stallions, (and mares, when the mood suited) but none could boast that they shared her burning passion for discovery and exploration, for delving the unknown depths of forgotten cities, chasing mysteries thousands of years old. Or lovemaking, for that matter. She cracked a satisfied smirk as she brought up memories where his legendary stamina had come into good use.

Daring! Really? Did not need to see that!

Oh, don’t be such a prune, she shot back. I don’t recall you complaining much at the time.

Right, and when you finish fantasizing and end up with a wingboner while flying, don’t come crying to me. I know how much that hurts, you know, I was linked when it happened.

She harrumphed. That was one time! ONE TIME! His laughter echoed warmly around the inside of his head, and she vowed to get him back for that. She’d pounce on him later tonight. It was either that or go to bed with the stiffies.

The two were by no means an ordinary pair. Interspecies couples were rare as it was, and even then, diamond dogs and ponies together was almost unheard of. The dogs simply had no desire to bed with the equine race. Cases of gryphons, donkeys, and zebras taking a pony for a mate have been seen before, such creatures like hippogriffs, mules, and the curious half-zebra, half-pony hybrid known as a zony being the resulting offspring. Such couplings were generally tolerated, but that was only because Equestria had always been a more progressive nation than others. Most of the time, at least.

But it was common knowledge among Equestrians that all ponies are entitled to the right to love. Celestia and Luna themselves had brought that into law eons ago.

Daring Do, ever the adventurous mare, had fallen for Echo, and he for her.

The diamond dog had come out of nowhere one day, while she was being pursued by her nemesis, the catlord Ahuitzotl, and his minions. Daring had been trapped at the edge of a river, her wing injured from her most recent exploration.

Echo, always the gentleman, had appeared from the shadows and offered his assistance. Daring, experienced with diamond dogs and their slippery ways, had tentatively accepted his help. It was either that or face Ahuitzotl’s goons alone and wounded.

The resulting tussle had ended in victory for the intrepid mare and her mysterious ally, at least until Ahuitzotl himself had shown up. In a split second, he had torn out Echo’s throat and hurled both him and Daring into the crocodile infested river.

Managing to escape yet again, Daring had dragged Echo up to her treehouse reclusion, and patched him up as best as he could. She was no surgeon, though, and since that day Echo had been mute.

Yet the two had bonded, odd as it was, Echo showing a surprising interest in lore and history, and Daring teaching him how to read and write, something most diamond dogs considered a useless skill. Eventually, they had gone on a couple adventures together, and finally fallen into romance after the Battle of Wethoof, one of the high points of Daring’s career; where Ahuitzotl, the crazed mayor of Wethoof, a changeling swarm, and a nest of feral hydras had all been defeated by luck, wit, and skill.

Couldn’t have done it without you, Echo said gently, interrupting her brief reminisce.

Daring smiled despite herself, sending a brush of affection his way. Heh-heh. Yeah, I know.

Modest, aren’t we? I’ll leave you to your flight, for now. Send word if you find something of interest. I must tend to the pack. Daring nodded to herself in agreement, releasing her hold on him, and let his essence fade out her being.

Echo’s awareness rushed back to him like a taut rubber band. He resisted the urge to flinch as sensations returned to his limbs. He was on the riverbank again. He sighed to himself. Every time he did that with Daring, he couldn't help but feel a surge of guilt. Hiding his true origins felt dirty. He knew that she would find out eventually - one day he's slip focus and she'd end up on the receiving end of an Earth memory. He had vowed to reveal himself to her eventually...but how did one go about doing something like that? "Hey, I'm kind of an alien from another planet, so don't freak out or anything." Yes, that seemed like the perfect way to break it to her. He dropped his head into his paws.

Sometimes, he wished he wasn't so different. It would be so much better for her if he had been born a pony. A native pony. The looks they got sometimes when they went into towns and cities - Daring could take it. She didn't give a damn what anypony thought of her life choices. Him, though? It got to him, much as he would deny it. Echo just wished he didn't feel so guilty about bringing this down upon her. If word of his identity as a otherworldly visitor became known...that would just make everything worse.

He pushed these thoughts into the back of his mind, making sure his mental barrier keeping Daring out of his private thoughts was still up. It was.

He grimaced and leaned backwards, sitting cross-legged with his staff across his lap. Echo traced the mystic runes on it for a moment. Sometimes, the wood felt warm. Alive, even. It was Zecora’s old staff, a gift she’d given to an old friend many years ago, who had in turn given it to him at Wethoof.

Holding a piece of Ponyville in his paw was an odd feeling. It reassured him, though. Ponyville was the last stop of his journey, an endeavour that would likely span decades. Once, he’d seen it on TV. There’d been a series about it - My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. While the show was shockingly off about what Equestria was really like, it had been entertaining to watch. Originally, he’d wanted to go straight there, upon his arrival, to meet the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony face to face, and thank them for the lessons they'd taught him.

But he’d realized Equestria was bigger than anyone back home could have imagined.

And it was very, very different. Equestria was still a young and wild land. Magic, something Echo had once thought to be mere whimsy, was everywhere, and everything. He owed his method of communication to it, too.

Human nature had beckoned, calling out for him to explore this strange world. And so, he had begun his travels. It was a huge place and few had thought about what took up the gaps between the places seen on the show. He, however, was determined to fill the blanks on the map. Nopony before had traveled the entirety of Equestria, even the Princesses and Discord had not covered every corner. The endeavor would take years...but he had all the time in the world.

He remembered what had happened after Wethoof, the place he considered the start of his journey.

The group of travelers; Ginger Snap, Echo, Daring Do, Coconut Frond, and Disarray. A fledgling Alpha and her Beta, his mate and legendary explorer, a talented cook and pacifist, and a self-exiled Prince. Five strong, they had traveled through the jungle to the city of Rio de Maneiro, where they’d found a small group of diamond dogs living in the back alleys and gutters. They had been nothing. They hadn’t even had names! Ginger, eager to begin growing her own pack, had taken them under her metaphorical wing. She had a society to change, after all.

The Alpha of the Cinderwings only wanted one thing in life: peace. Her mother once a victim of the slaving practices of the packs, she had vowed to bring an end to the tradition by any means. Finding herself at the head of a pack of her own after the events of the Battle of Wethoof provided her with just the tools to do so. Forging a peace between a united diamond dog species (with Ginger at the head, if that’s what it took) and Equestria was the ultimate goal. She was, quite literally, building a nation from the group up, slowly building her power by defeating any other Alphas she came across, adding their pack to her authority. For now, though, her nation consisted of ten former strays, and the team of adventurers who had originally set out from Wethoof.

Echo grimaced as he watched another line of trees catch fire in the distance, brushing off soot and needles thrown up by the nearby crash.

That had been a good day, gaining ten new members with a single stroke. The new packmates had been wary of a pony leading them a first, but Ginger had won them over with her fierce disposition and raw magical power. The ponies had also been a little wary of the dogs with their rough manners and barbaric habits. Echo had been fixing that, though, slowly teaching them how to read and write, and how to work as a team.

They had also taught Echo and Ginger more about what it meant to be a pack. Old Yeller, the winzied elder of the group, had been a former pack member in the wild, long ago. With his guidance, the pair had begun to forge their ragtag pack into a true clan: the Cinderwings. The nameless dogs had been given a home, a family, and collars, and had even been given names, something that Echo had found oddly hilarious to do.

Echo abruptly stood up, swaying a small bit as the blood rushed to his head. Across the river, the forest fire was still raging. He needed to post a watch if Ginger and Daring were to get back across with their cargo in one piece.

The diamond dog swung his staff over his back and slid it into the holster between his shoulders, before padding back towards the camp on all fours. While he could easily move about on two legs, something the other dogs (and ponies) had some difficulty with, he had lately begun to use all his paws to travel.

The camp itself was merely a rough circle of the wagons, with a small campfire in the middle. The Shagwagon, the enchanted six-wheeled monstrosity that served as sort of mobile base camp, was usually the center of the comings and goings. The other two wagons were small, rickety things that simply carried supplies and any who weren’t pulling the carts, foraging, or scouting ahead.

Echo emerged from the shadows of the forest and crept into the camp, waiting for one of the dogs to pick up his scent. It was a game he liked to play with them, to help them hone a sense that they hadn’t needed in the back alleys of Rio de Maneiro. Shadow, a diamond dog with a shaggy yellow coat that reminded him of a golden retriever, was the first one to scent him, as usual. Around his neck hung the dark green collar of the Cinderwings, with a small orange gem embedded into the front. All the dogs wore one, except Echo. The compass around his neck was the only collar he would ever wear.

Shadow quickly smacked the heads of the two others sitting next to him, a younger dog named Rin-Tin-Tin who resembled a german shepherd, and an older female with a very long, mottled coat, called Lassie, reminiscent of a border collie. “Beta wants something,” Shadow spoke in their usual broken language. It was understandable, though far from eloquent. As one, the other two dogs placed a paw on Shadow’s shoulder, who in turn extended a paw to Echo. Limited by touch, his conversationalists had to be linked together when he spoke to groups.

Echo met the paws with his own. “Is the camp completed?”

Shadow nodded. “Yes, Silent One. Boxer and Balto go out for fresh-kill. Others stay and gather tree limbs and make den.”

“And our guest? Is she being tended to?”

Lassie answered this one, in her usual thoughtful way. “Aye, nutpony seeing to her. Why is a stripepony so far from plains? Is plains not home for stripeponies?”

“I do not know, though I suspect we’ll find out in the morning, when she wakes up, or when Ginger and Daring return with her parents. Speaking of which, I need you three to watch the riverbank. Spread out, keep some distance between you so that if they get swept away by the river, some beast will catch them.”

The dogs snapped to, and loped off out of the campsite. Echo watched them go with a curious sort of pride. When Ginger and he had first encountered them, the dogs were loners, scavenging off trash thrown away by ponies in dumpsters and junkyards.

A true diamond dog might aspire to more that the role of Beta, the pack's deputy. Echo had never aspired to greatness, though, and rather detested the power he wielded over the others. If it were up to him, he would have left the pack long ago. It was only Ginger's goal of peace that stayed his paws.

Echo had read of the rise and fall of civilizations, even seen a few himself, on Earth. He was determined to make sure that the Cinderwings succeeded. An alliance between a unified diamond dog nation and Equestria would be good for all. And Ginger would be the one to do it, if anypony. A true diamond dog with that much power wouldn't dream of anything but conquest.

If it fell to him, though, he would refuse.

Not because he wasn't capable of leadership. No, he had proven himself once already, sweltering in a baking desert far from home, where the enemy was never clear never fought fairly. He had been good. One of the best, in truth. And he'd hated every moment of it.

It was because he was afraid. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. He knew that, if given the chance, he would become something truly unstoppable. The things he would be capable of (and undoubtedly end up doing) frightened him to the bones. He would simply crave more and more and more. He'd had a taste of that once, and it was enough for a lifetime.

He kicked at the needles, irritated.

Some logs had been drawn up towards the fire, and other members of the Cinderpaws were lying or sitting about, warming themselves after the swim. Spot, the dalmatian, waved him over after catching his eye. Echo padded across the camp and settled down on the log in his usual fashion, a position that the dogs and ponies both found uncomfortable. His tail settled on Spot’s shoulder. “What’s up?”

The skinny diamond dog glanced around nervously. “Vixen has been talking about you again. It is annoying. Why don’t you just breed and go on with it? She won’t shut up.”

Echo sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a thumb and finger. Diamond dogs had a much looser society, in terms of mates. The female was usually the one to do the choosing and advances, while the males squabbled amongst each other to try and impress them. A strong, intelligent male could end up with a small, but willing harem if he played his cards right. And Vixen, for one reason or another, had decided that he would make a wonderful bedmate.

Crazy bitch won’t take no for an answer, he grumbled to himself.

He could sense Daring’s amusement from miles away. She knew he’d never willingly betray her, and found the whole thing to be utterly hilarious, much his chagrin. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, featherbrain, he said to her.

He glanced across the fire to spy the red female in question. Vixen watched him coyly from where she was laying on a log, tilted on her side and lifting her rump up just a bit. Her exotic eyes had their “come-hither” levels set to full blast, and her bushy, white-capped tail swaying enough to reveal the prize underneath. Echo took a shaky breath, inhaling her scent. The unique pheromones made his hackles rise in arousal despite himself.

He scowled, and looked away.

Meanwhile, the last three diamond dogs were sitting in a small circle, playing a game that was remarkably like poker, except instead of cards, it was played with bones, different designs carved into them by sharp claws and teeth.

Old Yeller, the eldest of the pack, was busy hooting with laughter as he raked in a hefty pile of bones. Next to him, Luther, who resembled a weimaraner, jealously clung to his own pile, small as it was, suspiciously glaring at the elder dog. Finally, Chance, the very youngest of the pack at a mere fifteen years, a gullible pitbull with a spot over his eye, was looking at the ground in resignation, having lost his entire pile in one go. No doubt Old Yeller had somehow bluffed him into giving it all up. The poor pup would believe he could fly if he was told his paws were wings.

“Don’t worry,” he told Spot. “I’m not interested. You should take a shot at her. Who knows? A bouquet of roses...er, bones, and she might be all over you. Get that bitch some bones. Bitches love bones.”

“Vixen say she want only you. Big, strong Echo, to warm her den at night.”

“Well, then. That’s nice for her, isn’t it? You can go tell her I’m taken. She seems to ignore me whenever I tell her that myself.”

Spot got up and began to make his way over to the female in question, before Echo grabbed his tail and yanked him back down.

“I was being sarcastic, for the love of Jim Carrey! Honestly, man.” Echo shook his head in despair. Diamond Dogs had a different sort of intelligence - one suited for running and hunting and fighting and mating and packs. Anything beyond that...was hard for them. Echo had been teaching them to read for months now, and Lassie, the one who showed the most interest in the subject, had barely learned how to write basic words. Boxer, the numbskull of the group, usually decided to try and eat the small blackboard Echo used to teach. Apparently it tasted quite good.

Every one of them had been aptly named, in Echo’s opinion. Mainly because he had done most of the naming. On the streets of Rio de Maneiro, the stray diamond dogs had no name or collar. They had simply grown up that way, with the exception of Old Yeller, who had once run with a pack in his younger days, and had preferred to be nameless after he’d left it. Ginger, capable and caring Alpha as she was, didn’t have much of an imagination. Have it her way, and they’d have numbers instead of names. “Easier to keep track of that way,” she’d said.

Spot eventually drifted off to join the game of bones, leaving Echo alone on his log. Vixen, sensing an opening, sauntered over and sat next to him, all-too-eagerly pressing herself against his shoulder. “Handsome Echo alone tonight,” she observed in a sultry voice. “Vixen will keep company, yes? It can get so cold when moon rises. One must stay close to be warm.”

“I’ve got enough warmth, thank you very much,” Echo replied evenly, smoothing down his robe. “Besides, my bed only has room for two, and I’m not in the business of sleeping on the floor.” Ironically, he had used to sleep on the ground, with little trouble. But once Daring had come into the picture, he vastly preferred a bed.

Vixen pouted cutely. “Oh, and why would you stay on cold, hard ground when you could share bedding with me?” she purred.

“I’m afraid you’d end up the third wheel. You know I’m spoken for.”

“Hmmph. Vixen does not see why you stay mates with that old featherpony. Echo can take as many as he wants, he has proven his worth. Vixen can do sooo much more for big, strong Beta.”

“I’ll have to pass. And I strongly doubt you could,” Echo said, allowing a wry grin to spread over his face. Somewhere over the inferno, Daring Do blushed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have something to do...over there.”

He made to leave, but froze as the female brushed her tail across his nose. Echo inhaled a full blast of Vixen. His pupils shrunk to pinpricks and his tail suddenly sproing!-ed straight out, stiff as a board.

Echo bolted away from the camp like his tail had been lit on fire.

One cold dip in the river later, he once again found himself sitting on the riverbank. Lassie, who had seen his mad dash into the drink, approached him cautiously. “Everything is well, yes?” she asked, placing a tentative paw on his shoulder.

“I’m going to lose my mind with you idiots around.”

Lassie just smiled. “You always say this. And yet, here you are, with your mind.”

Aye, that, and a little more, he thought to himself. “...Barely. Any sign of them?”

The collie looked back across the river, where the inferno was still going strong. “Not yet. Do you think she will be fine?”

“Your Alpha is more or less made of fire,” Echo deadpanned.

“Not her. Featherpony. You worry, I can see this, yes?”

“Yes. I always worry.”

“There is small hollow, little way toward camp,” Lassie said. “Make that your den for now. I wake you the moment I see her. Sleep, Ghostclaws, it has been long day.”

With a grateful nod, Echo shook himself off and made his way back towards the camp, finding the hollow with little trouble. The needles here were slightly damp, softened up by the moisture. Echo found it surprisingly comfortable, and in no time at all began to slip off into a light doze.

Just as his mind began to drift, he felt Daring give him a mental squeeze.

I found something. We might have a problem.

He stirred himself from his rest. The bad kind of problem, or the good kind?

...Well, that depends.

On?

How fast you can run.

Echo felt a chill creep down his spine. Show me, he said.

And she did.

Achievement Earned- "One Head is Better Than Two."

Characters Unlocked!- Echo Ghostclaws, Beta of the Cinderwings + Dr. Daring Do, PhD.

-Perk: Honor Bound: (+5 gentleman, +5 stubborn) Your code of chivalry keeps you on the moral high ground. Whether it's murder or mayhem or falling debris, you're more than likely to make a totally gallant fool of yourself.

-Perk: Prototype Telepathy Spell: (+3 intellect, +10 magic) "What could possibly go wrong?" This could. You have the ability to use touch-based telepathy! In addition, you share a significantly more powerful connection with your better half. All perks and special abilities are shared between the two of you!

-Skill Unlocked: Starsight: Through sheer force of will and extensive study, you have reigned in control of your body's rampant magical energies and mastered the art of the magical sixth sense. Congratulations, want a cookie?

-Perk: Wings of Steel: (+5 speed [while flying], +3 strength) Years spent performing speedy getaways and hauling around priceless artifacts have left you with some seriously strong flight muscles and enough endurance to run an alicorn into the ground. YEEEEEAAAAAAH!

-Perk: Adrenaline Junkie: (+10 intellect, +3 hard-boiled) Your experience with tight situations has given you a cool head, even in the best of times. All the better to come up with witty one-liners, hmm?

Ally Gained!- The Cinderwings

-Perk: Packmates (+25 strength when in groups, -2 privacy): They've always got your back. ALWAYS. Except when they're trying to knock you off your perch. Watch out.

By: Nohby of FiMfiction.net

[I - Third] Hot Flash

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

CHAPTER THE THIRD
In which a temper flares, a foe is revealed, and the dice are cast. Ante up, Blackjack Ginger.

Ginger Snap

Creeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak-a-BOOOOOM!

Ginger flung herself into a roll, narrowly avoiding the collapsing ironwood. The trees were known to grow larger than castle towers, and the one that had cratered the forest floor behind her was no exception.

With a grumble, the unicorn straightened the thick black welding goggles covering her eyes, chancing a look around the burning forest. Confident in the stability of the other nearby trees, she continued on her way, guided by the sight of a pegasus flying above the flaming treetops.

Ginger cantered along through the devastation, her hooves softly crunching the burnt needles to ash. Stray flames licked her cinnamon coat and turned bright green upon contact, but she paid them no heed. It felt rather pleasant to her, in a tingly sort of way.

She made her way down into a gully, stopping to inspect a burning bush. A nearby ironwood cone violently exploded, causing flecks of dense material to ricochet off her goggles. Any that landed on her merely fizzled before crumbling away on the hot winds. She scowled as she brushed the remains off.

“Any luck, Daring?” she called up towards the smog-filled sky.

“I think I see something! Follow the gulch till you hit a downed tree, then right!” came the distant reply.

Ginger looked down the gulch, where a grove of smaller ironwoods collapsed, creating a barricade of fire and wood.

Easy for you to say.

She inhaled deeply through her nose. Her horn lit up a bright, pale green, matching the faint magical steam wisping out from behind her goggles. She felt her power flicker deep within her chest, before spreading out towards her extremities, as if she’d just drank a hot broth. She took another breath. The warmth abruptly increased, almost scalding her veins. Ginger flexed her will, shepherding the energy within and concentrating it into her horn, where it manifested into a rapidly-growing ball of light.

Exhaling, Ginger lowered her horn and unleashed the spell, and a blazing streak of light issued forth. The emerald fireball slammed into the obstructions, slapped further down the gully as if shunted by a massive, godly hoof.

Ginger grumbled to herself as she trotted through the wreckage. “It's always something, isn’t it? No, we just can’t go anywhere without getting sucked into one little detour or another. Bah...we don’t even know these ponies, and here I am, risking life and limb for them!”

She glared at a nearby tree.

“This is all your fault.”

The tree burst into flame.

“Serves you right!”

Turning away from the obviously-guilty ironwood, she kept on down the gully, hopping over the debris of the obliterated plant life.

It wasn’t like she’d asked to be here. Like most other things in her life, she’d never had much of a choice in the matter. In this case, she could not, in good conscience, leave innocent ponies to face these flames. Burning was a terrible way to go. Anything else, and she might have considered passing by. It’s not my problem. And besides, I have a pack to look after.

It was a queer sort of pride that filled her when she thought of the rag-tag bunch of fools who had decided to follow her for one reason or another. Echo had been first, although that was due to a technicality - they’d been the only ones left after the last Alpha, and she’d inherited the pack through trial by combat. The original members had all been wiped out, all those years ago...

Coconut had been next. The first pony in recorded history to voluntarily join -and be accepted by- a diamond dog pack, at least according to Daring Do. The renowned explorer was technically already a member at the time, seeing as she’d taken Echo for a mate, weird as that was. For a while, it’d just been the four of them. Disarray wanted no part of her fledgling pack., though she considered him an honorary member all the same. He simply came and went as he pleased, giving help only when it was truly needed.

When they’d arrived at Rio de Maniero, ragged and sore from weeks of jungle travel, all that had changed.

Ginger had been shocked to find diamond dogs living in the alleys and junkyards of the tropical city, scavenging for scrap metal and gems to eat. She’d offered all she met an alternative, a life on the road, yes, but with a warm place to sleep, three square meals a day, and the promise of a home in the future. Most had turned her down. All but ten, the most desperate and perhaps foolhardy of the population.

A pony, leading a pack of diamond dogs? At first, they’d been skeptical, even hostile to her and the others. Three times she’d been challenged to the right to lead, and three times she’d left her opponents in the dirt.

When the other junkyard dogs had attacked them on the eve of their departure, she’d truly earned her pack’s respect, turning a devastating ambush into a humiliating defeat with quick thinking and her raw magical power. That day I truly became an Alpha. Unlike my father.

Ginger blasted away another fallen tree with a surge of magic. Had that been the one Daring had told her about? She decided that it was worth a shot. She climbed out of the gully and into the sea of flames that carpeted the needle-strewn ground.

Daring was circling in the sky, some way off and to her left. She’d obviously found something. Pegasi were known for their good eyesight, and Daring was no exception. Could it be the filly’s parents? If so, she hoped that she wasn’t too late.

Ginger galloped away, sending up puffs of ash with every step.

She soon came to a small clearing in the forest, where the charred remains of a small wagon lay in the center. Ginger moved around it examining the wreckage. Nopony was about, and it looked like the wagon wouldn’t last much longer under the blaze.

She had to strain to let her voice be heard over the roar of the inferno. “Daring! Circle the area! They aren’t here!”

Above, the pegasus executed a quick loop-de-loop to indicate that she’d heard, before zooming off in a seemingly random direction.

Ginger looked back towards the wagon, inspecting the surrounding ground for any hoofprints. There! Two sets, leading off towards a nearby outcrop of rock. If they were smart, they’d try to find some way under it.

She set off, nose almost to the ground, impervious to the heat. The tracks were hard to follow, as most of the forest carpeting had been burned away. They zigged and zagged for some reason, as if their makers had been confused and frightened.

I wouldn’t blame them. A fire is a frightening place for a pony.

Not for her, though. She was a Snap, a family known in many circles for containing some of the most powerful elemental magic-users in Equestria’s history. Her father had claimed that they could trace their line all the way back to Starswirl the Bearded himself.

As long as she could remember, she’d been a friend to the elements. Her mother, a metalworking artist, had had a forge for her studio. Ginger had accidentally fallen into it one day when her mother’s back had been turned. She’d found her daughter giggling and rolling around in the coals, her red-and-orange streaked mane flickering with a life of its own. Adorning her flank had been her new cutie mark, a will-o-wisp of pale emerald fire, the same color as her eyes.

Ginger stomped down on a clump of burning needles. Where had the tracks gone? She’d lost them somewhere. They’d reached the rock...and then...nothing.

“Any luck?” the call came from above.

Ginger tore her gaze from the ground. “No! Lost ‘em!” Where could they have gone? There was no sign of digging around the base of the rock. Had they run off for some other cover? Or had the flames got them? She frowned, and spent a good five minutes rooting around the incinerated soil.

When she rounded the small outcropping of rock, she froze in horror.

The solid rock had been cleaved through in several places, each gash the size a fuller grown timberwolf. What sent an instinctive message to her brain, though, was the fact that the scores were grouped together in threes. Four groups of deep, jagged slashes carved straight through solid rock. There were only a few creatures in Equestria capable of such a thing. It have been an earthworm, those enormous, burrowing giants that lived far below the surface. A diamond dog could dig through just about anything, but they weren’t big enough to leave such impressive scars.

No, there was only one possible thing that could have done this.

“DRAGON!”

Daring heard the call, high above, and immediately began searching frantically through the smoky skies. “Buck, buck, buck! We need to get outta here, Ginger!”

“Go! Get back across the river, warn the others - hurry!”

Hopefully, the Cinderwings had crossed by now. Ginger darted off through the burning forest, her fear giving her the speed to keep pace with the flyer above. The smoke was beginning to get to her, now. While the fire itself posed no threat, the poisonous fumes were beginning to fill the air closer the ground.

With Daring Do pointing the way, she soon emerged out onto the riverbank. Ginger took a deep breath and plunged in without hesitation, releasing a large cloud of steam as her body entered the cool, refreshing waters. Underneath the surface she took a moment to rest, closing her eyes as she was caressed by the gentle flow.

It’s times like these when I honestly don’t know what I’m doing here, she thought to herself. This isn’t what I wanted. Somepony else should be doing this.

All she'd wanted out of life was a steady job during the day, and a bed to curl up next to Cloud Nine at night. But Wethoof was not her home anymore, and Cloud was gone. Who else would do this, though? Who else would even attempt to follow in her hoofsteps? Nopony, that’s who. Nopony likes diamond dogs. And certainly, nopony wants to be Sirius.

That was her goal, at the end of the long road she’d chosen to travel. The Alpha of Alphas. Sirius. To unify the packs under one paw...or hoof, in her case. To make sure that what happened at Wethoof never happened again. To forge a peace between ponies and diamond dogs throughout Equestria. Ginger had buried two parents because of diamond dogs. She wasn’t about to let that happen to anypony else. But to do that, I had to become one.

She had grown up in a pack - her father, the Mayor of Wethoof, had been best friends with the Alpha of the nearby Greenclaw pack, Mosspaw. When each had come into power, they’d forged a pact, and for a time, ponies and diamond dogs had worked together in that stretch of rainforest, prospering from the rich gem supply of the Greenclaw den.

But when the gems had begun to run dry, Mosspaw had been desperate to maintain the peace. To that end, his Greenclaws had dug deeper and deeper, until they’d punctured the bottom of the world itself.

Tartarus, Ginger recalled dismally. They unleashed the corruption of the underworld.

The Greenclaws had been driven to madness, and the resulting conflict found her mother in their clutches. Her father had gone in to save her, Ginger following close behind. But the black pit infected her father as well, and the battle that followed drove the diamond dogs to extinction in the Great Southern Rainforest. Only her father, an honorary pack member, and her, his daughter, had survived to carry on the pack.

Neither wanted anything to do with diamond dogs ever again. Eight years passed. A tentative time of peace for Wethoof emerged under her father’s strong, but just, leadership.

Eight years is a long time, though. The corruption seeping from Tartarus had slowly poisoned the local hydra population until they’d turned feral, forcing the ponies of Wethoof to barricade themselves behind a mighty wall.

And then he showed up. She opened her eyes, bleeding bright magical essence out through her goggles. Ginger’s horn ignited, turning a stretch of the river a luminescent green. She directed the water under her hooves, pushing her up towards the surface until she broke it, now standing atop a surging mound of liquid. It coiled beneath her like a spring, and fired her at the opposite shore, where she landed lightly before running a quick wash of flames about her coat to dry herself off.

Ginger released the water and watched it plop back into the river. The fire still raging on the far bank was reflected by its dark waters. Her ear twitched as he heard the sound of soft pawsteps approaching her. She turned. It was Shadow, a male with shifty eyes and a patched vest that had long ago lost its original fabric. He carried an axe in his belt, made of stone and wood but still deadly in the right paws.

“Cindercorn,” he greeted with their name for her, extending his middle finger in salute, something that Echo had insisted on teaching them. “Featherpony just flew by. We have a problem, me think. How went search?”

“It went,” she replied tartly. “Where is the camp? We need to move, and fast. There’s a dragon about. I’ve a hunch it started this fire.”

Shadow pointed back into the woods, his face now grim. “Thattaway. I go get other watchers, now, yes?”

“Do so. Tell them to head back at once.” Ginger set off through the forest, leaving Shadow to do as he would. It was remarkably different than the firestorm on the opposite shorebank. It was quiet and peaceful, punctuated by the sounds of the nocturnal life that had come out since the sun set. A soft light shone through the ironwoods after some distance.

She emerged into the clearing, tired and sore. The wagons were arranged in a rough circle, a small campfire going in the middle. Half of the Cinderwings were lounging about. Old Yeller noticed her first, looking up from the game of bones he was playing with Luther and Chance before smacking them each upside the head and motioning towards her.

She finally stopped to rest, sore and tired. Must have gotten lazy dodging those falling trees. Only the big one missed. “Where are the others?” she asked nopony in particular.

“Lassie, Rin-tin-tin, Shadow, and Echo go out to watch firewoods for you,” Chance piped up. “Balto and Boxer go out into pinewoods, I am thinking, to-”

“-hunt. Greetings, Cindercorn.”

The new voice rumbled over the camp like two stones grinding together. Two more shapes lumbered out of the gloom. Boxer, with her massive shoulders and scrunched up face - she was easily the strongest one of her pack, although quite dim. Balto, however, was a different story. Tall and lean, with the shaggy fur and wolfish face of the northern diamond dog breeds. His resemblance towards Echo was startling, although the Beta was notably scarred, and Balto’s fur was steel grey, shot through with black. An X-shaped harness strapped across his chest and back held the massive lance he liked to fight and hunt with. Ginger noted that the tip was red. She politely inclined her head in greeting. Boxer slung the carcass of a deer over her shoulder, where it thumped into the ground. Balto never once took his eyes off her, pupils still slitted from the hunt. Ginger lowered her goggles around her neck and met the gaze evenly.

The other Cinderwings soon returned, loping out of the shadows like wraiths. By then, the deer was butchered and quartered. Ginger tried not to pay it much attention. They had long ago come to an agreement about eating meat. It was a necessary staple of the diamond dog diet, along with the gems they were so good at digging out from under the dirt. While the ponies themselves couldn’t stomach the meat, they had to at least tolerate that the diamond dogs were omnivores. Ginger understood that. As long as it didn’t talk back, it was fair game.

She felt the familiar presence of her Beta sit on the log behind her. Perched atop him like an oversized parrot was Daring Do, the attractive pegasus comfortably resting across his shoulders. “They know. What are we going to do?” Daring asked anxiously.

“We’re dealing with a dragon. It’s probably the reason the woods across the river went up. On top of that, it might have taken the filly’s parents.” Ginger shrugged. “If it’s got them, then they’d be far away by now. We need to clear out, in case it comes back.”

Daring paused a moment, before looking at Echo. “Really? Wow. Didn’t see that coming.” She looked back at Ginger. “He says that they aren’t ponies, they’re zebras. The filly I picked up was covered in soot and ash.”

“Zebras...?” At first, Ginger thought she must have misheard. “What are zebras doing all the way out here?”

“We aren’t sure, but we’ll find out in the morning when Zanza wakes up.”

“Zanza?”

“The filly.”

Funny name. She reasoned that Echo must have told her. The two were close, she knew that. And with the telepathy spell she’d botched, closer still. What one knew, the other was bound to know as well.

Ginger took a moment to think. Finally, she stomped a hoof down at looked out at her assembled pack. “We’re leaving. We’ve spent too long in the ironwoods anyway. Break down camp and get ready to move out - we’ll follow the river until we’re sure we’re out of the dragon’s territory. The last thing I want is to have to run into one.”

Balto scoffed. “Cindercorn afraid of flying worm? I say we wait until fire out, then we fight it in its den, and take hoard for ourselves.”

“That ‘flying worm’ is the size of an Canterlot gunship, Balto.” Ginger narrowed her eyes at him. “And in case you haven’t looked across the river lately, it carries a hell of a lot more firepower. We’re moving out. And that’s the end of it.”

And uncomfortable silence followed. “Actually, we might have an issue with that. Fluffy here made a promise to the filly to find her parents.” Daring awkwardly patted Echo on the head. The diamond dog, for his part, looked quite sheepish, trying to disappear inside his hood.

Ginger gawked at them. Her right eye twitched violently. “You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking. This is just another one of Disarray’s lame pranks, isn’t it?” If there was anything she’d come to respect and simultaneously hate about her Beta, is was the fact that he would go head to head with a minotaur if his precious honor was called into question. If he’d given his word, then Ginger would have to bind and gag him to keep him from keeping it.

“Hey!” The draconnequus stuck his head out of the side of the Shagwagon. “Slapstick comedy is a respectable source of humor!”

“Nopony asked you!” Ginger roared, slinging a bolt of fire at him. With an undignified squeak, he ducked back inside. Ginger rounded on her Beta. She was mad, now. “And you! How could you keep doing this! Every single time we run into somepony with the smallest problem, you end up more or less enslaving yourself to them! And by extension, us! We aren’t a charity, Echo. We have our own freaking problems, and we don’t need any more!” She pressed herself face to face, boring into his eyes. He looked away.

“Generosity is not a weakness, Ginger,” Daring said quietly from atop his shoulder.

“No, but it is a waste of time!” Ginger spat back. “And right now, time is not something we have to throw away!” She pointed a hoof towards the sky, glaring at her pack. “There’s a bucking dragon somewhere out there. Those things can destroy entire towns! They’ve done it before, they don’t give a pile of dung for any but their own kind. If the filly’s parents were taken, then no doubt they’ve been made thralls for its hoard by now!”

“That should make ye even more willin’ ta save ‘em.”

Ginger whirled around to see Coconut stepping out from behind some of the dogs. “A filly shouldn’t have ta grow up without a family,” he said softly. “Ye should know that more than anypony else. Yer own mum was taken by slavers.”

“And trying to save her ended up shattering a decade of peace,” Ginger bitterly ground out through clenched teeth.

Daring shook her head. “We don’t have a treaty with a dragon. Like you said, they care only for their own kind.” She paused. “Ginger, Echo and I are going to try. He made a promise, and I’m not about to let him grab all the glory himself.”

A vein pulsed in Ginger’s neck. “You’re not going to make it out of there without help. Do you even know where to look for it?”

“Echo can smell it out. We’ll wait until the fire burns out, but after that, we’re going to try.”

She knew they would, too. No matter what she said, their minds were made up. Once they were set on something, it was easier to crack open a mountain than dissuade them. “Give me a moment to think about this,” she told them.

Ginger glanced across the campfire at Old Yeller, who was peering at her intently through his faded, cataracted eyes. The ancient mutt was her guide through the vexing and oftentimes unnecessarily violent diamond dog culture. She waved him over and led him away from camp.

“Cindercorn is at fork in road, yes?” he observed.

“Stuck between a brick wall and a hard place, more like,” Ginger said. “I can’t just walk away from this and keep my standing intact.”

“Ah, you are learning. This is good. You know why you risk authority?”

Ginger paused, tapping her hoof at the ground. “...Because my Beta openly defied me. If I don’t answer his challenge, I am a coward. I will lose respect. If he truly has support behind him, this could splinter the pack.” She narrowed her eyes. “That was a wily, dirty move. He knows we need each other to make this work.” And I should have seen it coming. He is cunning, more so than all the rest combined.

Old Yeller nodded, leaning heavily on his crooked driftwood spear. “You could simply force him to submit through a trial. It is Alpha’s right to enforce. Alpha’s word is law.”

“No. He’d abandon us the first chance he got and simply do it himself.” Ginger shook her head. “No. I need him to run this pack with me, Yeller, as much as I hate to admit it. He is the only one of you who won’t attempt to become Alpha himself. Only a Beta may challenge an Alpha. He cements my leadership.” She began to pace. “But if I give my support in this, I place the entire pack in danger, and everything we’ve been working for could be wiped out in an instant. Could you live with that, Yeller? A chance for a better tomorrow, and you throw it away?”

Old Yeller took a moment to think. “I am old and proud. Pride is all I have left. If this were threatened, then I would do all I could to keep it mine.”

“I didn’t hear a definite answer.”

“There is none. Not all problems have clear solutions.”

Ginger scowled. “Then I am backed into a corner, and I risk it all no matter what I do. What would you have me do, now that everything is teetering on a knife edge?”

Old Yeller merely thumped his spearbutt against the ground. The diamond spearhead glittered in the shadows of the evening. He then turned and padded back to the campfire where the others were still gathered in a loose, silent circle.

Ginger Snap looked out into the forest. Through the gaps between the massive trunks, she could see the river in the distance, still reflecting the flames of the raging forest fire. If we fail, we lose everything. But it we succeed...if we truly manage to raid the hoard of a dragon...

She imagined the possibilities. Such a feat was worthy of retelling during many a stormy night. It could go down in history. It could give her pack the status it needed to meet with the larger, more famous groups. It could grant her audience with the Diamond Lords, the greatest Alphas of the land. It would put her one step closer to her ultimate goal of forging a nation, under her.

The cosmic dice were at hoof, waiting to be tossed. Could she risk her dreams for the lives of a couple of lost zebras?

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, she grimly realized. If the pack splintered, she would be ruined and left aside in the dust. She could not allow her pack to be left in the paws of one of them. They would not be able to keep the peace. Only a pony leading them could keep a diamond dog nation from fragmenting. They'd fight themselves into the dust otherwise.

She made her choice.

The unicorn spun on the spot and stormed back to the campfire. “Boxer, Shadow, Balto, and Chance. Start digging a den big enough for the wagons to fit in. We’ll hide them underground while we’re out.”

“Out?” Chance asked.

Ginger nodded, grimacing. “Out. Everypony here better get some rest while you have the chance. Once that forest fire burns itself down, we’re going after the filly’s parents.“

She watched as their eyes sparkled in the light of the campfire. Each pair had something different in them, but she knew they were behind her in this. She had made the right decision, she had kept their loyalty. Now they just had to make it out in one piece.

“We’re going to raid a dragon hoard.”

Achievement Earned: "Through the Fire and the Flames."

Character Unlocked! Ginger Snap, Alpha of the Cinderwings

-Perk Unlocked: Ignition: (+ max fire resistance) Ever since you were little, your natural affinity with the elements has been evident, fire in particular. You are unharmed by the even the most withering of flames. Time to go hot-tubbin' in some lava.

-Perk Unlocked: Avatar, the Last Unicorn: (+7 magic, -3 intellect) The blood of the Snaps runs through your veins, one of the most magically-gifted families in Equestria. Your manipulation of earth, air, water, and fire are unparalleled, but your skills in other fields of magic are sadly lacking and highly unpredictable.

-Perk Unlocked: The Rainforest School of Hard Knocks: (+2 agility, +2 strength, + 2 speed) Growing up in the rainforest shantytown of Wethoof has taught you a thing or two about how to take care of yourself. You've been surviving the dangers of the jungle since you could walk. I, for one, feel sorry for anyone who runs into you in a dark alley. Poor sods.

[I - Fourth] Mares In Black

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

CHAPTER THE FOURTH

In which familiar faces are seen, a revelation is made known, and the Princess imitates a snowplow.

The Ambassador

The train glided smoothly into the station, all gleaming brass and bright colors.

A hustle and bustle of activity began as ponies and goods began to disembark in a small storm of motion. Canterlot Central Station was no place to dilly-dally, after all. Ponies had places to be, things to do. This attitude was reflected even in the simple acts of going from place to place.

Amidst the hissing release of steam and fumes, a unicorn mare paused for a moment at the steps of her car, taking a deep, shuddering breath, before she stepped off of her coach and plunged into the crowd. She was nervous, understandably, the big city was somewhat intimidating after the tranquility of Ponyville. Well. Sometimes tranquil, she thought to herself with a wry grin.

Though there was something else on her mind, giving her a pep in her step and a simultaneous shiver. It wasn’t everyday that one was summoned to Court, after all.

Her longtime marefriend had thought it a hoax, at first, when the letter had arrived at their doorstep, delivered by a rather out of breath baby dragon. But the official seal of the Royal Pony Sisters adorning the message was legitimate. As much as the pair had been surprised, her marefriend had known that something like this might happen eventually, it was part of the job description.

A job that nopony else had wanted. How Canterlot had mocked her! “Useless,” her title was often called. “Head Crackpot,” she was sometimes addressed. But no longer. Oh, how she had waited for this moment.

The strange summons had been made even stranger by the fact that it had not been signed by Princess Celestia. Rather, the signature at the bottom was penned in the elaborate, ancient penmareship of Princess Luna.

What in Equestria did Luna want with her? Perhaps she was merely brushing up on the changes her sister had wrought on the Diarchy during her thousand year absence, meeting with the new members of the ruling body? Or perhaps, as the mare’s gut told her, it was finally time to bring about one of the single greatest moments in Equestrian history.

As the letter had instructed, one of Luna’s Moongard was waiting for her by the exit to the station, a simple sign hanging around his neck with her cutie mark emblazoned upon it.

The stallion peered at her with half-lidded eyes. “Miss Lyra Heartstrings?” he drawled in an deep, oddly familiar accent.

Lyra nodded politely. “Yes, that’s me,” she said quietly. “And you are?”

The stallion shook off the sign and offered her a massive, armored hoof. “Knight-Commander Starbuck Apple, at yer service, ma’am. If’in ya’d follow me, there’s a chariot waitin’ that’ll be takin’ us to tha keep.”

The hoofshake left her dazed and staggering, but she followed him out with as much dignity as she could muster, determined to prove her worth to the Princess.

Lyra caught herself second-glancing at the Knight-Commander out of the corner of her eye as the chariot continued streaking through the sky, two pegasi members of the Sunguard carrying them onwards with powerful wings.

He was quite possibly one of the biggest ponies she had ever seen in her life. The color of smoke, his gargantuan frame was sheathed in the dark purple and black barding that the Moongard were known for wearing, over which a curiously crooked scabbard was slung across his back. His wings were thin, batlike and leathery, yet looked strong and powerful enough to lift his armored bulk off the ground with ease. His long, tufted ears poked out from underneath a battered old cowpony hat worn in place of a helmet. Underneath the barding, she could see he was wearing a faded yellow bandanna around his neck. The stallion sported frightening golden eyes, with the slitted pupils of one who had been given the Night’s Blessing.

“You mentioned your name was Apple, before?” she asked him curiously.

“Ayep.”

Walked right into that one... Lyra resisted the urge to facehoof. “Any relation to a pony by the name of Macintosh, by any chance?”

Starbuck nodded, looking thoughtful. “Ayep. Cousin. Ah’m from tha Austailian branch of tha Apple tree.”

Well, that explained the eerie resemblance to Ponyville’s resident workhorse. Lyra mused on this for a moment. Applejack had once boasted to her that there was an Apple in every town in Equestria. Apparently they could be found across the ocean, as well.

The silence was awkward on her end, though he seemed comfortable with the lapse. Lyra decided to fill the void with another topic. “I’m curious, what’s it like in the Moongard? Nopony knows much about them.”

He shrugged. “‘Xactly how Luna likes it. She’s a bastard for secrets ‘n such.”

“A what?”

He looked at her oddly. “Err...she likes her secrets.” He rubbed a hoof on the back of his neck awkwardly, blushing. Lyra thought it looked somewhat endearing. “Sorry. Bit new to the country. Ponies keep lookin’ at me funny when Ah talk.”

“That’s perfectly alright , Mr. Apple. Can I call you Starbuck?” He nodded. “So, what can you tell me about the Moongard that Princess Luna wouldn’t mind me knowing?”

“Welp. Ain’t many of us. Just sixteen. Always been like that, since back ’fore the Long Night, when the order was disbanded.”

“Sixteen ponies to protect a Princess?” Lyra asked incredulously. Celestia's Sunguard, her personal army, was kept at a staunch thousand stallions and guardsmares. And even then, they had been utterly steamrolled when the Queen Chrysalis and her swarm had struck the city.

“Ayep. Best o’ tha best, mate, every one a right ripper when it comes down to it. 'Specially with tha blessin’ we get.” Lyra was more than aware of that. Legends of the Knights of Moongard achieving incredible feats of heroism were often told to her as bedtimes stories when she was a little filly. With the advent of Luna’s return, the order had been reformed, a new generation of knights cultivated and endowed with the power of the night, taking the ‘star’ into their name and undergoing the metamorphosis into the somewhat unsettling appearance of the stallion next to her.

Their chariot continued its way across the Canterlot skyline, the two ponies chatting idly about Canterlot, life about the Castle, or Luna and her Moongard. Starbuck usually kept his responses to a simple “Ayep,” or “Anope.” Lyra found that she could learn quite a lot from carefully phrasing her questions.

The sun reached a zenith as they finally touched down in the courtyard of Harmony Castle’s inner keep. Lyra stretched before disembarking, the flight had taken longer than expected. She followed closely behind the Knight-Commander as he made his way to the imposing double doors that barred entry to the castle itself.

The two guards on duty crossed their spears to bar entry. “Who approaches?” The one on the right challenged.

The knight looked up for a moment, shook his head, and with sigh, responded, “Er, sorry 'bout this, mates. Knock-knock.”

The guards exchanged a glance. “...Who’s there?”

“ME!“ The doors suddenly blasted outward, sending them both into a spectacular arc, before each splashed down in the castle moat.

Princess Luna stepped through the now-open doorway, her starry mane waving in a phantom breeze, the peytral plate across the midnight-blue alicorn’s breast glinting in the sunlight. She looked preposterously out-of place in the direct sunlight. “Sir Starbuck!” she greeted warmly, if a bit too loud. “And company!” she added, throwing Lyra a smile. “We have much to speak of, Ambassador! Come, let us depart from this scene with most haste. Mine sister’s armor-clad pansies lack a certain sense of humor, we have noted, unlike our rambunctious fellows in the Midnight Tower!” With that, she spun about and trotted off into the castle.

“She seems...a little...” Lyra began.

“Much?” Starbuck finished for her.

“That’s the word.”

The knight simply smiled a small smile. “Should see ‘er in a bad mood. Downright terror.”

Lyra found herself struggling to keep up with the enormous stallion’s easy pace as they ventured in after the retreating figure of the Princess of the Night. The castle was truly magnificent on the inside, decorated with pristine white marble, plush burgundy carpeting, and stained glass windows, depicting fables and real events alike.

Occasionally, the trio would receive odd looks. “Our subjects are not used to us roaming these halls during sunlit times,” Luna explained. “We and our Court tend to keep a more sensible, normal schedule.”

“Nocturnal ain’t ‘xactly normal,” Starbuck rumbled.

At this, Luna bopped him firmly on his head, the knight wincing despite himself. “Silence thyself, traitorous swine, lest me pummel thee again like we held practice in the field!” she said jovially.

Starbuck grumbled something about tyranny and abuse before another look from the Princess silenced the giant.

Lyra, for her part, simply tried to keep her chuckles to herself.

The personal quarters of the Princess of the Night were spacious, and kept to a strangely appealing spartan asceticism. The walls and ceiling were dark, studded with softly flickering gems that made Lyra feel as though she were amongst the stars. The carpet was a deep, dusky blue, and the elegant wooden furniture was stained and varnished stark black.

It was unusually cooler in this part of the castle than any other, and a soft breeze blowing in from some unknown direction pushed a few errant strands of Lyra’s dual-hued mane across her face. The mare brushed these away as she sat down on a cushion, her back against the wall.

Luna was giving her an odd look. “Pray tell, Ambassador, why dost thou recline in such an unusual mannerism?”

“It feels comfortable for me.” Lyra shrugged and sipped at her tea, held in a telekinetic grip by her magic.

“Indeed. I presume thou must be in wonderment as to why we have sent out a summons?”

Lyra felt a surge of excitement in her stomach. She carefully kept it down. No sense in getting her hopes up, after all. “Yes, Princess. My station has been treated as something of a joke among the others here at Canterlot.”

Luna sorted. “‘Tis the nature of the fool to mock that which they dost not comprehend. The Outlander Ambassador was a position created by mine sister and ourselves ages ago, for a very specific and necessary role. One that seems to have not had much use in recent years...until now.”

“Until...now?” Lyra squeaked. Her heart began to race. One of her rear hooves began to softly tap out an almost frantic rhythm on the carpeting. “So...it’s all true then? There really is other life out there?”

“Aye, Lady Heartstrings. We are not alone in this cosmos.” Princess Luna said it so casually, and with such certainty. She treated a bombshell like that as if were merely light small talk.

Lyra slumped against the wall. “Wow...” she breathed. “That’s just...wow.”

“‘Tis a simple truth, one that has been buried under centuries of dust until it shapes itself into myth.” Princess Luna leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “Mine sister has not helped in preserving the past...though we suspect she hast her own reasoning for this. Regardless, we have determined to bring the truths of the olden days forward once again. Celestia will not interfere with our endeavour, though we concede that she will not offer her assistance, either.”

Lyra nodded blankly, still dazed from the world shaking revelation. “So...what do you need me for?”

“To fulfill thy role, Ambassador. ‘Tis your duty to act as an envoy to all those visitors who come from elsewhere, from Outlands, as they were called in our time.”

“Have you...met one, before?” Lyra asked.

“We have had the pleasure to know hundreds, Ambassador. Equestria is visited more often than some would think. Though, some arrivals are not mere visitations. There are some who find themselves forced to remain in our land from accident, necessity, or simple ill luck. It was explained to us by one of their number, long ago. Equestria sits herself near the borders of this reality. The boundaries between dimensions art thin, here. It is easy for one to push through this barrier if one has the knowledge.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You said this reality?”

“Aye. We did. All realities are one, and yet separate. It is made of...layers...so to speak.”

Lyra rubbed her jaw with a hoof. It was somewhat sore from being dropped so much, so recently. “Like a cake?”

“Nay. More like...an onion. Aye, that fits. ‘Tis an onion! Sir Apple, agree with mine metaphor!”

"Ayep. Onion."

“So, the universe is an onion.” Lyra scratched at the base of her horn, trying to wrap her mind around it all.

Luna nodded energetically. “Of colossal scale! Every layer of this onion is a reality unto itself.”

“And every once and awhile, aliens get through these...layers, and end up here?”

Luna nodded again. “Aye. And ‘tis thine duty to treat with these visitors, to determine their purpose --nefarious, benevolent, or indifferent-- and origin, to manage records of their identities and, if necessary, their capture, should they prove to be incapable of existing amongst us.”

“...So, basically an immigration bureau...for aliens.”

Luna merely smirked and dipped her head in confirmation.

“And I’m in charge of this why?”

“Because thou art the one mine sister chose for the role, Ambassador Heartstrings. She is most adept at recognizing the hidden qualities of our subjects. Tell us, have thou not always wanted to experience something like this?”

“No! I mean -- yes. I’ve...” Lyra trailed off, momentarily paused. How could she describe what it felt for a lifetime of hope to be realized? To be mocked since foalhood for her fascination of aliens? To harbor doubts of her convictions at every turn, even when she had been at her most adamant of her beliefs? To finally have Princess Celestia herself take her aside after the Royal Wedding and offer her the role of which she’d never thought even existed? “...I’ve waited for so long...wishing that one day, I’d be able to know whether or not there was something...else...out there besides your moon and stars.” She trailed off again, looking down at her hooves, a tear threatening to well up in her eye, brought about by some emotion that she couldn’t quite place.

“And?” Luna prompted her.

Lyra looked up at the Princess of the Night and stared at her hard, her golden eyes meeting Luna’s own dark teal orbs. Luna held the gaze firmly, waiting to see what would come next.

“...And its about damn time,” Lyra finally said, surprising herself with her boldness.

Princess Luna leapt to her hooves, a brilliant smile adorning her face. “My sister was right indeed! Thou hast great spirit! I believe we shall get along just fine. Come, Ambassador, for we have much work to accomplish together! Onwards!”

Lyra staggered to her hooves and attempted to keep pace with the alicorn, who had promptly rushed out of the chambers, knocking the heavy door open like a runaway train.

“Where are we going?” Lyra panted as they tore through the hallways of Canterlot castle, Luna scattering servants and nobles alike as the seafoam green unicorn attempted to follow in her path.

“To the Royal Vaults!” Luna replied cheerily. “Where we shall crack open the bindings of your first three assignments!” Above, a gigantic dark blur whizzed by. Lyra caught the sight of Starbuck tipping his hat to her before the stallion flew around a hairpin corner and was lost to sight.

Lyra almost took down a small page, staggering in surprise. “I get to meet them? Aliens? Now?” She tingled with excitement.

“Of course! We must begin work immediately, we have centuries of unaccounted Outlanders to work through! These three we go to are the oldest, the first we ever encountered! No doubt they will be most pleased to be released from their stasis.”

“Stasis? Are they imprisoned or something?”

“Aye!” Luna responded, plowing through a contingent of nobles and scattering them like bowling pins. To Lyra’s amusement, the collision made a sound that was eerily similar to just such a thing. “For they art also the most dangerous! They nearly succeeded in bringing about Eternal Night, alongside ourself! ‘Twas a glorious battle, indeed!” She roared with laughter and plunged onward.

Lyra was as stupefied as the ponies left in the Princess’ destructive wake, falling silent until the pair skidded to a halt at the hall containing the Royal Vault.

It was a long, cathedral-like place, with a singular, narrow carpet running the length of the hall, and more stained-glass windows adorning the walls. At the end, she could see Knight-Commander Starbuck and another two ponies of the Moongard standing by the doors to the Vault itself. Lyra glanced at the pictures adorning the windows as she followed Princess Luna down the hallway.

She spotted a window containing Nightmare Moon, Princess Luna herself, surrounded by the current Bearers of the Elements as they unleashed the power of friendship upon her, cleansing the parasitic evil from her soul. Another window nearby held the form of Discord suffering a familiar fate. Lyra slowed to a halt when she saw yet another window with Discord, but instead of looking ferocious or malevolent, he looked...content.

Lyra slowed to halt and approached the image. The draconequus was perched atop the tallest tower of the glass-stained version of the former castle, now locked away, deep in the Everfree. He was not alone. Also standing atop the tower was Princess Celestia. In between them was...another draconequus? Discord has his arm wrapped around him. She peered intently at the figure, at his strange, mismatched parts, trying to-

The figure abrupt moved, turning to face her and crossing his arms almost irritatedly. “It's considered rude to stare. You don’t have to gawk at me, after all. I can tell that I’m attractive. I work out. I’m sexy and I know it.” The stained-glass draconequus began to do a strange, vulgar dance as techno music blared out of nowhere. “Wiggle-wiggle-wiggle-wiggle-wiggle, yeah!”

Lyra screamed, instinctively flaring her magic out and punching a hole straight the window, shattering it into a dozen pieces.

“That wasn’t very nice. You broke one of the few shards of proof I have that I was actually loved, once upon a time,” came the draconequus’ voice from the window next to it. He was reclining easily upon the back of a great turtle.

“What-who-where-huh!?” Lyra sputtered.

“Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just here for shits and giggles, as they say.” The image of the creature stepped out of the side of the window, only reappear in the one to the other side of the shattered picture, now inside the one of Discord being defeated. He paused for a moment, before pulling a marker out of somewhere, drawing a mustache across the face of the other draconnequus.

Princess Luna bounded next to her, bouncing with glee. “Disarray! Er , Entropy! Ach! Damnation, nephew - whatever you call yourself these days! It hast been too long! Thou hast not visited us in weeks! Well met!”

The draconequus shrugged. “Forgive me if this place is a little bittersweet. I was supposed to rule here, after all.”

Lyra simply stared.

“I think thou hast broken her,” Luna said, poking her on the horn. “Shame on thou! We only just met this one! We can never have any nice things without them getting broken sooner or later.” She stomped her hoof and pouted.

“Mainly because you’re so fond of pummeling everything you encounter.” The draconequus waved to Lyra. “Ah, hello there! You’re the new Ambassador, aren’t you?”

“Wh- I...yes?” Lyra hesitantly confirmed. “How did you know that?”

“Internet.”

Lyra leaned over and whispered in Princess Luna’s ear, “What’s an...’Internet?’”

“We are not sure, but from the stories he tells, ‘tis a dark and frightening thing, indeed,” Luna said. “Introduce thyself, nephew! Where are thy manners? Thou hast been rude to mine guest!”

He shrugged, before bowing deeply. “Please allow me to introduce myself, I’m a draconequus of wealth and taste. Those who know their obscure history call me Prince Entropy, the first of his name, the son of Celestia, and formerly the next in line for the throne...until I decided politics weren’t for me. Those who read their fanfiction tend to call me Disarray, the Bringer of da Lulz and Almighty Refrencer.”

Lyra gaped. “Celestia has a son!?”

“No, I’m actually a female, trapped in a male’s body,” Disarray dryly quipped.

Luna spoke up. “Those of the Royal Blood are not above the callings of nature, Ambassador Heartstrings. We are ponies above all else, despite our power and appearance, and answer to the same needs as our subjects, no matter how base. Dost thou find it truly surprising that mine sister whelped a single foal in the three-thousand years of her life? Can thou blame her for succumbing to her desires just once, knowing that she is only as pony as thyself?”

“Well...no...I mean, three thousand years is a very, very long time. But...why doesn’t anypony know about him?” Lyra asked. “And why is he...um, a draconequus?”

Disarray shrugged his mismatched shoulders. “Blame it on my dear old Daddy, Ambassador. Discord had a bit of a wild side to him, in case you hadn’t noticed. I simply inherited a bloodline of half-alicorn, half-draconequus. Which is ironic, considering both are hybrids in their own right. I’m a giant collection of species, all melded into one. They called me the Patchwork Prince for a reason, you know. As for why nopony knows about me...well, let's just say I've no desire to stick myself in the limelight.”

“P-princess Celestia..and Discord?”

A new voice spoke up over the sound of muted hoofsteps on the carpet. “Yes, Ambassador. It was a long, long time ago...things were much different, then. We were different, as well.” Princess Celestia strode forth, gracefully tall and clad in her golden royal raiment of yoke, tiara, and horseshoes. Her eyes were focused on the image of her son in the window. “Hello, my little colt. It is good to see you again,” she said, softly.

“Err...'sup.” Disarray merely inclined his head in greeting, cooly distancing himself. There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then he strode out of the frame, calling, “If you, uh, need me, I’ll be watching from the sidelines, as usual.”

“Well! That went better than last time!” Princess Luna announced to nopony in particular.

“What happened last time?” Lyra wondered.

“He transfigured the tallest tower of Canterlot Castle into an enormous artificial stallionhood!” Luna roared with laughter. “‘Twas a truly hilarious sight to behold! The joking amongst the guards that day was that mine sister was in heat, and had finally found a male that could satisfy!” Lyra suppressed her giggles with a well-practiced poker face.

Celestia merely sighed and gestured towards the vault. “I don't know why it is everypony sees fit to make light of my private affairs. Could we please continue with what you are here, for, sister? I must return to court, soon.”

Luna grumbled, but nevertheless trotted over to the door, followed closely by Celestia and Lyra. “Bah! ‘Tis thou who rules thy subjects, not thy subjects ruling thee! Thou could be better off without the pompous nobles thou hast surrounded thyself with in mine absence. They could do with a good pummeling, we think.”

Celestia gave her a look. “Luna, please don’t try to beat up the nobility.”

“We would not have to try, ‘twould be a slice of pie!”

“You mean, piece of cake?”

“What? Nay! We speak'st of delicious, hearty pie! Sister, what is it with ponies and cake, recently? We thinks thou maybe hast a problem.”

Lyra watched as one of the veins in Celestia’s temple twitched. “Let’s just get this door open, shall we?” the Princess pleasantly said.

As one, the two sisters lowered their horns and inserted them into the dual keyholes embedded right into the leviathan vault door. The security guarding the precious Royal Relics had been doubled, literally. Ever since Discord had easily broken in and taken them, it had been determined that the shielding spells be strengthened, and the requirements for entry increased to two members of the Royal Family, instead of just one. There was a pause, a faint click, and a magical hum filled the air.

Luna withdrew her horn, Celestia following suit. “Starlight, Starbright,” she addressed the two other Moongard mares standing at attention by their Knight-Commander. “Watch this entrance with thine lives. Let nothing pass save ourselves, the Ambassador, and Sir Apple.”

The two mares saluted crisply and took up post on either side of the now-open doorway, unfurling their bat-like wings threateningly before becoming still as statues. Celestia remained where she was. “Go, sister,” she said. “Make sure they haven’t been too uncomfortable...and that they are forgiven.”

Luna proceeded into the portal, a poorly- lit tunnel with bare, unornamented rock walls, closely followed by Starbuck, who if anything seemed to relax in the darkness. Lyra hesitated at the entrance. Just what have I gotten myself into? she wondered. Day one on the job, and I learned that Celestia had a son, aliens exist, and I’m in charge of them all...

Despite her misgivings, she found herself strangely eager to continue. Down in the Vaults were three of the very things she had always desired to encounter. “Aliens,” she breathed. It was a curious mix of a dream come true and a gentle nightmare.

Lyra shook her head and smiled, before running in after the Princess and her escort.

The tunnel was winding and narrow, seemingly carved out of solid rock itself. Here and there faint, phosphorescent fungus grew, lighting the way ahead with an eerie, pale blue glow. Lyra all but sprinted out of the last turn and into the Vault itself, colliding with the back of Starbuck, who was standing still, gazing ahead. “D’oof!” It was comparative to running into a brick wall at full speed.

Starbuck grinned and peeled her off of his backside. “Sorry, sheila. Didn’t mean ta get in tha way.” The gentle giant brushed away the stars that were comically floating around her head, while Lyra regained her senses, looking around.

It was a tall circular chamber, that reminded her of being in the inside of a silo. Various barred doorways led off in different directions. The floor she was stadning on was gilded gold, inscribed with hundreds of pictures and designs. At the center of the floor was a large lever sticking out of the ground, standing by this was Princess Luna. “Ah, there thou art, Ambassador! We were thinking thou hast stayed behind to partake in mine sister’s diabolical cake!”

“A good thing she didn’t. The cake is a lie, after all.” Came Disarray‘s voice from below Lyra’s hoof. She lifted it, seeing the image of a golden draconequus relaxing amongst the floor carvings. He waved to her. “Welcome to the elevator. No, it is not named Otis, and no, you cannot live in here. Going down?”

“Down indeed!” cried Princess Luna, spinning and bucking the lever violently.

With a mighty screech, the floor dropped out from underneath Lyra’s hooves. “Aaaaaaaagh!” she screamed, plummeting helplessly...right above the floor? She looked around, seeing that the floor was falling at the same speed as she was, doorways on the walls flashing by at a blinding rate. Some ways away, Starbuck was floating gracefully still, his powerful wings outstretched to their impressive full span, maintaining his seemingly immobile position, while one hoof atop his head was keeping his cowpony hat secured.

“Ayep. Ah remember my first time droppin’, too,” he calmly said over the rush of wind.

“We dost recall that incident as well!” Luna jeered from where she was doing somersaults and twists. “Thou landed right on thy face! Thine eye was a splendid black-and-blue for an entire month!”

Lyra rolled around uncontrollably, struggling to right herself. Her legs swished at thin air, though, her mane and tail flapping about her face almost violently. “How do we stop this thing?” she cried.

“We hit the bottom!” Luna replied cheerfully. “In about...-”

A terrible, grinding of metal and rock suddenly issued from below. Lyra was smacked straight down onto her back as the floor rapidly slowed and the fall was halted. Starbuck landed solidly on all four hooves, causing the platform to shake a bit with the impact, and Luna merely braced herself as if she were dealing with an irritating breeze.

“-...Now!” she finished with the same enthusiasm. Lyra groaned from where she lay spread-eagled on the floor of the elevator platform, her eyes spinning in circles within their sockets.

“I’m going to have to get used to being knocked around on this job, aren’t I?” she pondered out loud.

Luna pranced over to her and looked down imperiously at the fallen mare. “Aye! The Outlander Ambassador is a title that falls under our jurisdiction! Cheer thyself upwards, Lady Heaertstrings! We art fun, unlike the stuffy nobles mine sister utilizes. A little pain is all in good sport!”

“You’re a masochist, you realize this, right?”

“Aye, and a fun one at that! ‘Tis this not correct, Sir Apple?”

“Ayep. Maso-whatsit.”

“See? Now, Ambassador! On your hooves! Stop being stuffy. We have some Outlanders to awaken and treat with! No doubt they will have much to reveal to you!” Luna turned and promptly rammed open the only door on the level, disappearing down another hallway.

“Does she ever, like, stop?” Lyra asked.

Starbuck pondered this for a minute, before shrugging. “Amaybe.”

“Excuse me, by all means, just keep lying here,” came a voice from between Lyra’s flanks. “It’s not hard to breathe or anything, I’m just enjoying the view.” Lyra squeaked and rolled off the image of the draconequus, who’s two-dimensional image had mysteriously donned a pair of sunglasses. “Dat plot,” he said, sucking in his lower lip.

Lyra mashed her hoof into his face. “Pervert.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to,” came his muffled voice.

Lyra harrumphed and stalked away after the Princess, Starbuck right on her tail, chuckling deeply to himself as they entered the darkness of the tunnel.

They emerged into a vast, open chamber that was made up of merely a walkway suspended over a bottomless pit, ending at a raised platform in the middle, upon which a shaft of sunlight fell like a spotlight, revealing the figure of Princess Luna and three other, smaller figures, absolutely still. She felt her pulse race at the sight of them. Lyra could not make out chamber’s walls or ceiling, everything obscured by the darkness. It gave her the odd sensation of the structures being suspended over total nothingness. Though, given their depth, that might not be far off from the truth.

“Where are we, Princess Luna?” Lyra asked nervously as she hopped onto the central platform.

“We are in the first, and top layer of Tartarus, Ambassador. We are also in the lowest point of the Royal Vault, at the very bottom of Canterlot Mountain. These beings before us deserve the honor of remaining in our Vault, though art highly dangerous, and for that reason they remain on the edges of the Pit itself.”

“Tartarus...” Lyra spoke the word delicately, peering over the edge into the abyss. She shuddered, before turning her attention to the three figures frozen on the pedastal. “They don’t look like aliens,” she said after a few minutes of observation. “They look like, well, normal ponies. If a bit eccentric with their taste in clothing.”

"Many Outlanders find themselves transformed into familiar species upon emergence into our realm, Ambassador. 'Tis a bizarre phenomenon, indeed."

The first figure, petrified in a magical stasis, appeared to be a pegasus stallion, deep brown with a shaggy untidy mane. He wore square-rim spectacles and sported an impressive goatee and mustache. His cutie mark was hidden under a faded blue duster, pockets stuffed with unknown items. What really drew her eye was his right foreleg, which was missing up to his shoulder, instead replaced by a rugged robotic prosthetic, bristling with valves and gears. Upon his metal pauldron was the image of a crescent moon. He was standing straight and tall, head bowed in submission, seemingly at peace.

Luna strode forward and fondly patted the frozen figure on the head. “Omnius, called the Guardian, for his steadfast defense of all things righteous and noble,” she said. “The first of the Travelers...three beings from all across the cosmos who voyage the stars themselves. They crash-landed here eons ago, bearing terrible secrets and power that they hid away in the forgotten places of the world.”

Lyra looked at the other two figures. “Why are they imprisoned, exactly?”

“Because they declared themselves mine servants, champions of the Princess of the Night, Steward of the Stars.” Luna said it bitterly, as if she were tasting something she found unpleasant. “Gallant fools. And when we fell to our own darkness, and became Nightmare Moon, they too, followed in our hoofsteps and did our bidding, no matter what was asked.

“Mine sister was unwilling to destroy them, out of respect for their past deeds and inability to banish them using the Elements of Harmony, which failed her after she used them to seal us in the moon. Now that we have returned, and mastered our shadows, it is time to redeem our fallen servants, who were faithful even to the end. They were more than subjects...they were...friends. We will not have them remain forgotten.”

Lyra approached the final two figures, who seemed to have been frozen together. One, a scarred, rusty-orange unicorn stallion, horn and ears poking out from under a sun-bleached bandanna wrapped around his skull. He was clad in an ancient admiral’s greatcloak, frozen bracing himself defiantly over the fallen figure of an earth pony mare, single, brilliant green, gold-rimmed eye glaring furiously forwards, the other hidden by an eyepatch branded with a silver crescent moon.

The mare lay limply on the floor. She was an earth pony, with a curiously long, shaggy white coat, stained a light chocolate in her mane and tail, around her closed eyes, nose, flanks, and hooves. She wore icy-blue combat barding, a thin necklace dangling around her neck, from which held the emblem of a crescent moon. Her cutie-mark, the only exposed one of the three, was the black pawprint of a large cat.

“Why do these two look like they were frozen during something?”

“As mine sister tells it, only Omnius went quietly into his fate. His fellows were...never so accepting of destiny. A great battle was fought to subdue yonder two Outlanders: Captain Ferros Oxhide, called the Reaver, for his ferocity and his...ahem...piratical tendencies. And his beloved sibling, Ragdoll, called the Sage, for her uncanny knowledge of things yet to come.” Princess Luna announced from somewhere behind her. “The first a loose cannon in every respect, the second wiser than any in Equestria. We will be freeing them one at a time, one a day, that thou might better manage them. They art thine wards, and thou art responsible for them,” Luna said seriously.

Lyra nodded eagerly, ready and raring to begin. Finally! This is it! She resisted the urge to squee in delight.

“To begin, we shall chose the most placid out of the three. Ragdoll, called the Sage, will be your first assignment as Ambassador. Art thou ready to begin thy role, Lyra Heartstrings of Ponyville?”

“Yes. Let’s begin.”

Luna closed her eyes. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, Lyra felt it. A faint, rumbling buzz as the Princess of the Night gathered her energies. Luna’s horn was wrapped in a sparkling, midnight-blue sheath, pulsing and crackling with power. Luna opened her eyes, now glowing a blindingly hot white, and dipped her horn, pressing it to the frozen mare’s wither. There was a thunderous crack! of release, the prone body flashed, and all fell still and silent. Luna drew back, anxiously watching.

Lyra took a step forward, peering at the mare’s face. She could have been dead, for all Lyra knew. Then...the shaggy coat rose and fell as Ragdoll, called the Sage, the pony who was not a pony, took her first breath in over a thousand years.

The Outlander opened her eyes, revealing the palest blue irises Lyra had ever seen, her pupils slitted like the Moongard but intensely feline. Lyra watched as the eyes shifted and focused to the light. Ragdoll blinked, and looked at her.

“Hello, Ragdoll. My name is Lyra Heartstrings,” the Ambassador told her gently. “And we have a lot to talk about.”

Achievement Earned: "My Second Basement is Hell."

Character Unlocked: Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings

-Perk: Conspiracy Theorist (+5 spirit, +5 intellect, -2 sociability) Whatever it is they're up to, you're sure to find out. Your keen senses perceive the truth in any situation, much to the chagrin of your friends, who tend to find your obviously-briliant ideas embarrassing.

-Perk: Blind Faith (+3 strength, +3 stamina) Your single-minded devotion to a belief is commendable, you zealot. I find it a bit creepy, honestly. There are therapists in Equestria, right? You might want to see one.

Ally Gained: Luna, Princess of the Night

-Perk: Warrior Princess (+100 all stats, -10 social skills) Holy fuck, you're Princess Luna! Oh god, I'm such a fan! Will you sign your name on my face!?
Ally Gained: Knight-Commander Starbuck Apple

-Perk: Far From the Tree (+10 black sheep, +10 funny accent) Your willingness to carve out your own path has left you with an indomitable sense of independence. You lead your ponies with confidence and skill. But I still can't understand a word he says...

Location(s) Discovered!: The City of Canterlot, Harmony Castle, and the Royal Vault

Oh, and have some goddamn fan art.

Aoi, you twisted, wonderful bastard, you.

[I - Fifth] Natural Selection

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

CHAPTER THE FIFTH

In which changes occur, a title is defended, and a set of dangly bits are jeopardized.

Daring Do and Echo

As Celestia’s sun crested the horizon, it dipped the world in gold.

Sunbeams streaked through the window of the messy bedroom, kissing the forms of two entangled figures, sleeping soundly amidst a mess of linens. Daring was wrapped against her lover’s chest, her wings had unconsciously unfolded into a sort of protective cocoon that swallowed them both into a tiny sphere of warmth. The diamond dog let out a deep, rumbling sigh in his sleep, content with all. The sound of it set Daring’s eyelids aflutter, and she gradually came into awareness, peering out from in-between her feathers.

The room was a wreck, as always. Their clothing was scattered haphazardly around, more so his than hers, due to how vigorously she’d removed them last night. Scrolls, maps, half-read books, stale hunks of bread and empty jugs of cider sat side by side on the table they kept here. Motes of dust floated lazily in the sunlight.

She yawned, taking a moment to simply nuzzle the furry body beside her, unwilling to truly surrender herself to the day just yet. It was mornings like these that she loved so dearly, when there wasn’t a care in the world and she had nothing else to do but bask in the sunlight.

Fate, as it happened, had other plans. A loud, muted bang, followed by a stream of gruff gibberish, coming from somewhere in the moving castle they called a home alerted her to the possibility of Coconut making breakfast. With the possibility of food looming, the sleepy pegasus promptly shoved Echo out of the bed and staggered to her hooves.

Ow. Good morning to you, too, came his thoughts from where he was now sprawled, blinking dazedly on the floor.

“Breakfast. Talk less. More stretching.”

Daring groaned in satisfaction as she arched her back, popping the vertebrae loudly. Her wings trembled as she shook them out. Echo heaved himself up off the ground and sat down on the bedside, flexing his scarred, naked paws in the sunlight. Daring gave him a sympathetic wince and sat down next to him, taking a paw in her hooves and massaging it gently. The diamond dog winced, but the surge of gratitude she got from him said it all.

His paws were often so stiff and sore in the mornings that he could barely move them. Just another leftover from Wethoof, she realized. Daring rubbed the mobility back into them, one paw at a time. When this was done, she then promptly flopped across his lap and unfurled her wings. Echo returned the favor with his newly dextrous fingers, running them through her feathers and rubbing the meat of her wings, near the shoulder, where most of the muscle was. It was a strange sort of tradition they had, and few pegasi let others preen them, but Echo was different. She closed her eyes and blissfully surrendered herself to the sensation of his fingers working their magic.

Thoughts and emotions flowed easily between the two. “We’re getting too old for this crap,” Echo said. “Can’t even get up in the morning without physical therapy.”

“Shut up. You love it anyway,” Daring murmured. “Besides, I’m older by, what, a decade? If anypony should be saying that it’s me.”

“And yet, you tend to act ten years my younger,” he chuckled.

“Gotta have fun while you can.” She sighed in contentment. “Ooh, yeah, that’s the spot, right there.” One of her hindlegs kicked as his paws found a particularly loose feather and plucked it out. That had been bothering her for a week! She watched as Echo held it up to the light, peering at it with something like wonder written across his face. “What?”

“You have beautiful wings,” he said softly, holding the feather up to the light. It shone a dark yellow, tinged with sunbeams around the edges.

Daring felt a small blush come to her face. It was a very different thing to take a compliment and feel the emotions behind it. She could sense the strange sort of wonder and respect he felt when he preened her. It was not unlike what she felt when she cracked open a forgotten tomb or laid eyes upon formerly-buried treasure. He truly appreciated her body for what it was, and that made her glow inside.

“C’mere, you,” she growled, throwing her forelegs around him and pushing him back into the bed. She met his lips in a long, slow kiss that seemed to go on forever. He paused, surprised, as he always did, seeking her permission to continue. She mentally rolled her eyes at this. Always the gentlecolt. Instead, she took the initiative and slipped her way inside his mouth. Their tongues danced, and Daring marveled at how his long, strong tongue somehow matched her movements stroke for stroke, and yet never seemed to complicate things. Oh, what he could do with it!

Needless to say, all thoughts of food had vanished from her mind, quickly replaced with a different sort of hunger.

What she had with Echo was magical, literally and metaphorically. Daring had had many conquests throughout her life, that was no secret. But nopony else made her feel like a schoolfilly and a goddess at exactly the same time. It was a unique sort of blend that drove her wild, eager for more.

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, their lips wrestling together in a competition that neither wished to draw to a close. It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours. She didn’t care, either way. It felt too good to bother with anything else.

Daring adjusted herself without breaking the kiss, swinging her leg around and straddling him, her forelegs resting easily as they stroked his neck and shoulders.

This was one of those times where she appreciated their link. It was almost as if they were one entity. She could feel what he felt, taste what he tasted. Daring reveled in that, knowing that they were completely whole; body, mind, and soul.

She ran her small, pink tongue across the tips of his serrated fangs, revelling in the sensation of sharpness and power they delivered. Daring felt a queer thrill when she did this, as she always did when they were together. Echo was a formidable creature, bred for hunting and fighting and digging. He could have torn her in half if he wanted to. His jaw alone could crush solid rocks. And yet, here he was, willingly submitting himself to her ministrations. He trusted her absolutely, and she returned the favor gladly. The fact that she held such sway in him excited her, a tinge of adrenaline pumping through her blood.

Daring deepened the kiss, pressing herself hard against him in both desire and gratitude. Her tail lashed back and forth against his thighs. His own caught it, and they intertwined, shaggy red-brown spiraling together with her own silver, black and gray. She moaned faintly into his mouth, exhaling hard through her nose. Below, at the junction of her loins, a familiar heat was brewing, and, judging by the pressure she felt there...something else, if she was interpreting the sensations from Echo’s end correctly.

She pulled back, a thin trail of saliva snapping between the two as she gazed down at him lovingly. He was panting, his eyes glazed, but he had that stupidly large smile on his face she adored so much.

“We’re going to be late for breakfast again, aren’t we.”

Daring Do looked over her shoulder at her erect wings. They were rock solid, pulsing faintly with their increased blood flow, and standing out from her spine like sails, catching the light in just that right way, giving her a sort of soft, golden outline. My, I’ve certainly worked myself up. And it’s not even Tuesday! She turned back to Echo and leaned over, nipping gently at the side of his neck.

“Breakfast?” she said in a low, husky voice. “Hay, we’re going to be late for lunch.”

They were, surprisingly, not late for lunch.

Regardless, Coconut was not amused.

“Oh, I see how it is, eh? Ye two layabouts get ta do whatever it is ye feel like doin’, hmm?” The chef was standing behind the counter at the pair as they awkwardly shuffled in place. He drew the edge of a long carving knife over a whetstone. It was one of many that had been stabbed into the countertop. “And yer just so busy ruttin’ eachnother silly that ye forgot ta think ta yerselves, ‘Oh, hey! Mebbe we shouldn’t make sweet old Coconut’s food go ta waste? Mebbe that would make Coconut feel underappreciated, hmm? Mebbe Coconut’s never gonna cook for our sorry arses ever again?’ Did ye? Choose yer next words very carefully.”

Daring eyed the knife as he brought it for a another pass at the stone. Her ears flattened at the sound of it. “Uh...”

“'Doesn't matter had sex,'” Echo grumbled sarcastically. “Whoever thought that up should be crucified onto a lightning rod. With barbed wire.”

“We...uh, kinda got distracted, Coconut.” Daring sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck.

“For an hour and a half!?”

Help me out here, Fluffy. If I’m going down, you’re coming with me. Daring elbowed him in the side. Echo wheezed and gave her a look.

“Just do what you always do. Own up and damn the consequences.”

Right. Because usually that never runs the risk of being carved into pieces by a chef on the downswing of his menstrual cycle, Daring dryly observed.

“He’s been a pacifist since Wethoof, you giant chicken!”

I don’t see you too eager to fess up.

“I’m mute,” he deadpanned.

Never stopped you before!

“A-hem!” Something silver whizzed by them, embedding itself in the wall. They stopped glaring at each other to find Coconut giving them the evil eye, having selected a new knife to sharpen upon throwing the old one. A butcher’s cleaver and a spatula had mysteriously joined his ensemble of kitchen utensils. “I do not appreciate when ponies be forgettin’ just who it is that cooks all their grub. It makes me feel a tad disrespected when I can’t even get just a little recognition for my efforts.” He punctuated his words with casual flicks of his hoof, sending a flurry of sharp objects at the pair.

Echo shivered a little from where his robe was pinned against the wall by no less that three knives and a spatula. Daring, who had dived out of the way, picked herself up off the floor and found her pith helmet nearby, butcher’s cleaver stuck neatly into the top.

Daring, whatever you’re going to do, do it now. I don’t like having my dangly bits used as target practice for a sharpened... - Echo looked down between his legs, where a particular utensil was quivering an inch away from his thigh - ...spatula.

The pegasus grumbled a bit as she removed the cleaver from her headgear. “Sorry, Coconut. We lost track of time, doing...ah, you know. We’ll make sure it never happens again. It was a mistake, missing out on all the food that you worked so hard on. If we can make it up to you, then at least let us do so,” she said, bashfully scraping a hoof against the floor.

The large stallion glared at them for a few moments. Another spatula was held in one hoof. Echo gulped nervously, hiding beneath his hood.

“Coconut, stop being such a mare and get over it.” Another voice cut through the silence accompanied by an impressive bang as the door to outside flew open, Ginger Snap walking through this, the zebra filly, Zanza, close behind, eyeing everything with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

Coconut sighed, as all signs of hostility suddenly vanished. “Aww, who am I kiddin’. I couldn’t hold a grudge even if I had fingers.” He reached under the counter and pulled out two plates full of food. “I managed ta save somethin’ for ye both. Omelets, one of them’s got all sorts ‘a veggies, and the other one’s-”

Daring didn’t hear him finish. “Foooood! Gimmie-gimmie-gimmie!” The morning’s activities, combined with a pegasi’s naturally rapid metabolism, had left her ravenous for sustenance. She darted to the waiting plates of food and tore into one of the omelets face first. Uh! This is the stuff! Wow, even better than usual! She lifted looked up from the plate to ask Coconut about it, only to notice that everypony was staring at her with wide eyes.

“Whuffup, guyff?” She chewed heartily and swallowed.

“...That wasn’t the veggie one,” Coconut said slowly.

Daring froze. She glanced back at the omelete. Here and there amongst the fluffy yellow egg were small bits of a reddish-pink color.

You ate the one he saved for me. The one with meat in it. Echo was as surprised as the rest of them, something that rarely happened.

Daring frowned, and gently bent her head down, picking up one of the small chunks of cooked flesh between her teeth and gingerly slipped it against her tongue. The texture was somewhat rubbery, but tough. It was salty, and yet had a hearty spice to it. She flexed her throat and let the morsel pass down into her stomach.

“Daring, are you feeling alright?” Ginger asked. Behind her, Zanza was looking on with a nauseated expression.

“Um, yeah. I mean, I think so.” What was going on? She’d tried meat once a while ago, purely out of curiosity about what the diamond dogs relished with such enthusiasm. At the time, it had tasted revolting, and she’d vomited violently afterwards. Ponies weren’t meant to eat meat, that was a known fact. And yet she’d just devoured a good amount of it...kept it down...and liked it.

Daring simply sat down and stared at the plate, not sure what to think about it all. The taste of the meat was still there. It really wasn’t half bad at all, she reflected.

“Echo, explain what the actual buck is going on,” Ginger’s voice was sharper than Coconut’s knives.

“It’s the link,” said Daring Do, looking back up.

“What about it?”

It’s getting stronger, Echo realized. Daring nodded at this, stepping over to his side.

“Ginger, when that spell over-loaded, it joined us together, tethered our minds into one. We’re close...but much closer than just telepathy. We can do incredible things, things that shouldn’t even be possible. It’s hard to describe, and I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But we think there’s more to it.”

“Y-you and he are together?” Zanza gazed at the pair in confusion. It was the first time the filly had spoken up so far. “As mates?”

Daring gave her a wink. “You got it, kiddo.”

“But you’re...different.”

“Apparently not that much, anymore,” Echo mused. Daring nuzzled him good-naturedly.

“Just because somepony looks different doesn’t mean you should treat them any less or more. Sure, Echo isn’t a pony, but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less than two ponies...or zebras.”

“Oh,” said Zanza, looking thoroughly puzzled.

Daring continued. “Anyway, since the incident,, we’ve been noticing the effects are becoming more and more pronounced. At first, it was just, you know, talking to each other with our thoughts. Telepathy. But...later, we learned how to deepen our connection, to the point where we’re more or less one mind in two bodies.”

“Prove it,” said Ginger, one eyebrow raised. “I knew you two had been brought together...but that seems unlikely, even for us.”

Daring shrugged. With an unspoken agreement, Echo lowered the barrier on his end, and their consciousnesses rushed together into a collective pool. Daring flexed the fingers on Echo’s paw, while the diamond dog slowly shook out her wings.

As one, they lifted a forelimb and waved it about, each mirroring the other perfectly. “See?”

Ginger frowned for a moment, then reached behind her with her magic, and tore a knife out the wall, before throwing it as hard as she could at Echo.

In a flash, the diamond dog’s arm came up, his thick metal bracer slapping away the blade like it was an irritating insect. Beside him, Daring Do made the same exact motion, despite having nothing to intercept.

“Well, I’ll be...” murmured Coconut in disbelief. Zanza simply stared, eyes wide in surprise.

“What was that for?!” Daring all but shouted. “You almost killed him!”

Key word, there. ‘Almost.’ Echo grumbled.

“To see if you were faking,” Ginger shot back. “You aren’t. That was reflexive. You can’t copy reflex...unless you really are as joined as you say. But what does this have to do with you being able to eat meat all of a sudden?”

Daring huffed, allowing the connection to fade back into the tiny tether it usually was. “I'm just guessing here, but it may be that we’re so conjoined that we share instincts, as well. He sometimes gets the urge to fly, despite not having wings. And I...sometimes get a little...wolfish, let’s call it. But it wasn’t always like this. At first we couldn’t do any of this.”

“So, it’s getting worse over time?” Coconut guessed.

“I wouldn’t say worse. More like...stronger. It’s like a muscle, we think. The more we use it, the stronger it gets,” said Daring. Considering how intertwined they got themselves just a while ago, that wasn't exactly a surprise. “And I guessed it’s gotten so strong that I can choke down meat, apparently.”

“That’s just weird.” Ginger slowly shook her head. “Honestly, we’re the strangest bunch in Equestria. It’s like this freaky stuff is just attracted to us. Look, I don’t care what you eat. As long as you keep contributing to our goals, it doesn’t matter to me. Speaking of which, I believe you two more or less volunteered to kill yourselves last night. As a start, you can explain to Zanza here what that means.” She pushed the zebra filly forward, who squeaked a bit and huddled at the center of the room.

“You mean she doesn’t know?” Daring shot a questioning glance at the Alpha.

“No. You two seemed so eager to claim responsibility for her, I thought it fitting. She’s your problem, now.” With that, Ginger stepped away, clearly giving up custody to the pair.

Zanza watched her retreat, deflating a little, before facing the others. “Umm...” She scuffed her hooves awkwardly on the floor. It was adorable, in an embarrassing sort of way.

Daring gave Echo a helpless look. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m...not good with kids. Besides, last time I was with her I ended up putting us into this mess as it is.”

Daring groaned in exasperation, smacking him gently upside the head. “Useless.” She scowled and addressed the zebra. “Okay, so...you know how Echo promised that we’d go after your folks and stuff?”

Zanza perked up immediately. “Did you find them? Are they all right?”

“...Not exactly. We found the wagon where you had stopped in the forest. Over the ridge and into the valley, right?” At Zanza’s hesitant nod, she continued. “But when we got there, the place was a wreck. And...kind of on fire. Ginger found two sets of tracks leading away from the flames, but then we found some signs that they’d been...uh, taken.”

“T-taken?”

“By a dragon.” At this, the filly’s expression visibly fell. She swayed a little on her hooves.

Echo facepawed. “Nice one, Darin’. Way ta break it ta her easy,” Coconut chimed in.

“Cork it,” she snapped at the chef. He corked it. “And, yes. A dragon. We think it may have taken your folks as hoard thralls. They’re zebras...so it may have seen them as something exotic, to add to its treasure stash.” Zanza seemed horrified at this. “Look, this doesn’t change a thing. We’re still going to go after them. And if the dragon gets in our way...well...it won’t be pretty.”

Zanza was silent for a long moment, staring down at her hooves. Daring moved to put a wing around her, something to reassure her, but the filly suddenly looked up, slanted eyes narrowed in determination. “I want to come with you,” she said softly, then again, louder.

“I like this one,” Ginger commented. “Zebra’s got spirit.”

Daring and Echo shook their heads simultaneously, though. “Absolutely not, kiddo. This is way too dangerous for you to involve yourself with. I’ve heard stories about your homeland, I know its an achievement in itself making it to adulthood. You’ve got lions and hyenas and plainstriders...but you don’t have dragons. You’ve got no idea what they’re like.”

“It’s called the Zavannah,” Zanza sourly stated. “I must do something! I have to prove my worth. I can’t be scared off by some snake with wings.”

“You’d be the lucky one if you were scared off, kiddo. Did you see the fire it started last night? If I hadn’t been there to save your striped flank, well...” Daring trailed off. “No. You’ll stay in the caravan with Coconut. And that’s final.”

“But-”

“Final,” barked the explorer.

The filly looked crushed, but bowed her head in submission. Maybe it was her imagination, but Daring could have sworn she saw a spark of rebellion in those eyes.

She reminds me of you, Echo observed thoughtfully.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Daring muttered as she brushed past the others and outside.

The Cinderwings had been busy, indeed. The four diamond dogs Ginger had assigned to the excavation had burrowed an impressively large burrow in the ground, one that was almost big enough to roll the Shagwagon inside. That was the intent of the project, after all. Ginger didn’t want to risk the dragon spying them from above, so their caravan would be sheltered under several feet of earth, the entrance disguised with fallen limbs and leaves.

Echo meditatively watched as Daring Do zipped here and there, gathering various supplies and stuffing them into her enchanted saddlebags. The mare was the epitome of caution when it came to her adventures, contrary to what the book series had written about her. Daring certainly had her fair share of reckless and bold adventures, but she always made sure to have an ace up her sleeve and Plans A, B, and C ready to go.

Meanwhile, the diamond dog had already gathered his own materials: a simple length of rope with a grapple, his old switchblade, Winchester, from his days as a human, a pouch of first aid supplies, and a small canteen of water. Everything he needed fit easily upon the sash he wore around his waist, with the exception of Winchester, which he kept in the folds of his left arm-wrapping.

Echo glanced at the compass around his neck, watching it spin almost violently fast in random directions. It was called a Homeward Rose, a special gift from Daring herself, an enchanted compass that could point the way to any place the user had already been. All they had to do was think of their destination, and the Rose would lead them to safety.

At that particular time, Echo was picturing home.

It never worked when he did so.

The wagon, he thought. The needle smoothly slid towards where their caravan was standing by the ruins of a still-smouldering campfire.

Wethoof. The needle swung quickly to the South-East.

Rio de Maneiro. Now it pointed dead South.

Home. Earth. Immediately, it spastically began to twitch and whirl around.

Echo scowled to himself and slammed it shut, before adjusting his hood. He noticed Daring was busy burrowing through the second small wagon they used for supplies and such. He padded over and peered over her shoulder, his coat brushing against the pale green shirt she was fond of wearing.

“Dynamite? Really?” he asked upon seeing what the mare was busy bundling up.

“What?” Daring Do grinned, almost sheepishly. “You can never be too careful. Besides, what if we need to blow something up?”

“It shouldn’t have to come to that. We’re just going to find the nest, slip into the hoard, and run out as fast as we can with the zebras. If we end up facing the dragon, something’s gone wrong.”

Daring gave him a flat look.

“On second thought, bring the dynamite. All the dynamite.”

“That’s what I thought,” she said, digging her hooves down to do just that.

Echo chuckled to himself as he moved away, back towards the old campfire. The Cinderwings that weren’t busy burrowing the pit for the wagon were lazing about, nothing to do at the moment. Echo observed them from beneath his hood. They immediately noticed this and milled about, attempting to look busy doing something. He knew they could never tell where he was looking, with half his face thrown into shadow. It was a old trick he’d picked up, back in his days with the UN forces in-

-He rapidly shook his head to clear away his thoughts, out of a mix of old, bitter feelings, and an anxiety that Daring would pick up on them. He glanced back at her. That was close. Too close. With the link getting stronger, it was only a matter of time before she discovered what he truly was.

What truly frightened him about it was that he didn’t know how she would take it. On one hand, Daring had been very accepting of his peculiarities. On the other, he had been keeping this a secret from her since day one. There should have been nothing to hide at this point, especially with the link. Would she feel betrayed? Angry? Sad? All of the above? His instincts told him to hide the truth, but his brain told him that it would only make it worse in the end.

How did one even go about something like that? It was maddening, pretending to be the peculiar foreigner, forever dodging questions of his homeland. He wanted to tell her, so very, very badly, but he simply didn’t know how.

If only I’d been born an Equestrian, or something.

Echo banged his staff against a nearby crate. At the sound, the other diamond dogs gathered around. He studied them carefully. Luther; the lazy bum with a nose like a bloodhound. Vixen; the foxy, (but really creepy) nymphomaniac who had more skill with her two daggers than any other. Rin-Tin-Tin; the hothead of the group, almost as fierce as Ginger, prone to action before thought. Lassie; the cheerful intellect of the bunch - only she showed interest in anything besides the pack. Old Yeller; the wise, experienced veteran of the wilds, and the only one who hadn’t challenged him yet. Balto, Boxer, Chance, and Shadow would be remaining behind to guard the camp, having spent the night working.

“What we doing?” Lassie asked.

Echo beckoned her forward and laid a paw on her shoulder, using her as a mouthpiece for the others to hear. The long-haired diamond dog was usually the one he relied on for this, anyway.

“Okay. Plan simple,” Lassie relayed. “First we go to where sky-dragon made tracks. We split into two groups. Cindercorn takes one group. Luther is tracker for this group. They go and follow scent trail. Other group is led by Ghostclaws and Featherpony. They will go different way, try to find dragon nest from air. When dragon found, we send up signal for other group to find location.”

Lassie bent down and began to draw a rough diagram of a cavern, as Echo continued to speak through her. “When we find dragon, we don’t want to get trapped in nest. So, if it inside, we need find way to lure it outside and away from nest and pack. If not outside, then we go in and dig tunnel out ourselves for when it comes back. It is important that we don’t end up fighting dragon.”

“Pah! Are Cinderwings scared? I will face dragon and kill it dead!” Rin-Tin-Tin brandished his battleaxe, a large weapon made of a tree-limb and sharpened stone.

“No,” Lassie barked, with surprising force, answering of her own accord. “We face dragon together, and only if no other way. Dragon kill us easy. We are prey, it is hunter.” Echo was impressed by this. The female showed a natural aptitude for planning and leadership. “Now, any question?”

Old Yeller raised a paw. “If we do fight dragon, how we gonna kill it?”

“Featherpony is bringing boomsticks with her. We will drop cave down on top of it,” said Luther. “This is good. Less work for me.”

“What if we inside with dragon?”

“We will begin digging a bolt hole in cave as soon as we go in. If we collapse cave, we have place to hide and tunnel out of.”

“And the hoard?” asked Rin-Tin-Tin. “Dragons have lotta treasure. What we gonna do with it?”

Lassie’s response was interrupted as Ginger shoved her way into the group. “I've got something in mind for that. We’ll take as much as we can carry,” she said simply. “All the more proof that we raided a dragon hoard and lived to tell the tale. If we encounter another pack, that alone might cow them enough to yield to us peacefully.”

Echo poked her on the shoulder. “Don’t forget that we’re there for the filly’s parents, Ginger. That’s our priority.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Ginger waved him off. “Now that everypony knows what’s going to happen, suit up and prepare to head out. Balto is in charge here with the others while we’re gone. I’ll decide on the teams when we're ready to go.”

The mid-morning glare cut down through the empty sky, shining through airspace that had been occupied for centuries. All around was the smoking and charred landscape of ruined forest, a bomb-site of wreckage and debris. Many of the huge ironwoods, once so tall, had crashed to the earth, their enormous bulks creating walls twelve feet high and just as wide. The fallen trees had formed a literal maze out of their dead hulks, and if it wasn’t for Daring Do acting as an eye in the sky, it could have taken forever to search through the devastation.

Echo clambered over the ruins of a massive tree-trunk, observing the rings on it morbidly. There seemed to be an infinite number of them, so small and finite that he had to squint to pick them out.

What’s wrong, big guy? Daring asked as she perched on a lonely cloud, high above, funneling an aerial view to the back of his mind.

This tree was ancient. It must have been here for hundreds, if not thousands of years. It must have been around when Nightmare Moon rose. Maybe even when Discord first began to cause havoc. It’s...sobering, to see something so old and venerable brought low in an instant. It was a reminder of their own mortality, he reflected, which was even frailer than the mighty giant he now walked across. Daring offered him a murmur of comfort, struck by his sentiments.

Echo hopped off the edge of the stump, landing heavily amidst the scorched pine needles.

The Cinderwings were all around, clad in the shabby but sturdy armor that Luther, the only one who knew the art of metalworking, had crafted. Ginger was nearby, standing poised atop the summit of another downed tree. The sunlight glinted off the silver soot-stained barding she wore, a scarred and dented set of gorget, cuirass, battle saddle and boots. Her fiery mane spilled out of the crest of the old guard helmet she’d worn back at Wethoof. Slung at her side was a scabbard, holding her sword, a three-foot length of arcanite steel, the fabled metal sharp enough to cut through magic itself.

Before them lay a large, free-standing boulder, half-covered in great gouges ripped through the solid stone. Luther was sniffing it cautiously. “Silent One!” he called, “I think I have scent!”

Echo padded over. “Smell here,” Luther instructed. Echo dipped his nose forward, into a gash, and inhaled. A peculiar sensation filled his nostrils, akin to sniffing hot air, yet at the same time, sort of spicy, and sour. Up in the clouds, Daring Do shuddered as she sensed the same thing.

He spun about and whistled loudly, a two-tone blast of noise he reserved for getting attention. Ginger responded instantly, bounding off the tree at once and stepping to him. “Both of us have the scent, now. My group will use Daring to try and find the flight path the dragon took. It may have left a scent trail in the air, something like that. The flares are prepared, right?”

Ginger nodded grimly. “Aye. Is that extra little insurance we talked about ready to go?”

Echo glanced over to where Vixen was struggling under the weight of a large, burlap sack, the shape of several large objects within outlining themselves clearly.

“Sadly, yes. I still can’t believe you talked me into weaponizing them.”

“Funny, I’d thought you’d appreciate it. I took a page out of Daring’s book, after all.”

“My common sense is tingling. That’s all. It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

Ginger snorted with amusement, then moved off, flicking her tail. “My team, let’s move out! Luther, you have the lead. Smell me out that scaly bastard so I can steal its things.” Luther, Old Yeller, and Lassie immediately scrambled after her.

Echo looked around at his own team. That left...Rin-Tin-Tin...him...Daring...and...oh, crap.

He scowled as Vixen suddenly rubbed herself along his side, giving him a small, sultry wink. “We are paired together, my Beta! See? Even Cindercorn wants us together.” The end of her tail tickled his nose. He sneezed, his face reddening and ears pinning themselves backwards.

Meanwhile, Daring Do cackled to herself.

Ha, ha, ha. Oh, so funny. Let’s all laugh at the embarrassed diamond dog. Jerk. Echo lashed his tail in frustration and loped off in an arbitrary direction, head held low. The others bounded after him.

As his nose was filled with the burning scent of dragon, the pegasus up above began to sniff around as well.

Daring launched herself into the sky, inhaling in deep breaths through her nostrils. Their connection deepened after a few moments, and she detected a whiff of the same scent in the air. She grinned. There seemed to be quite a few benefits of their link, if it meant she would be getting diamond dog-level senses. She turned from side to side, eventually choosing a direction and zipping away, following her nose as best as she could.

The pair continued on in this fashion, trailing the scent trail as best as they were able throughout the day. The sun rose high to its zenith and slowly began to sink down towards the horizon.

The going on the ground was tough. The high log-walls of the fallen forest were difficult to navigate as it was, and with Daring leading them in a straight direction, that often meant they had to scale these as best they could. Echo in particular found problems with this, lacking his front claws, and had to resort to using his staff to vault as high as he could before sinking his rear claws into the bark and scrabbling upwards. Vixen, burdened by the burlap bag, pushed gamely on, despite the obvious handicap. Rin-Tin-Tin, meanwhile, was having no problems whatsoever, even throwing a taunt or two at the others as they struggled to climb after him.

Maybe it was the environment that had them on edge, Echo pondered. There was no color save for the sky, it was a wasteland of ashes and the dead hulks of giant trees. There was no birdsong, no chirping of cicadas. Aside from the padding of paws in the dust, there was utter silence.

As if nature itself was in shock.

The diamond dogs could feel it. All of their hackles were raised, eyes scanning warily. Something was wrong, here. But what? They each dealt with their apprehension differently. Vixen found herself daydreaming of curling up next to Echo after a long day. Echo, for his part, became even more stoic than usual, his sharp mind a literal storm of thoughts and hypotheses regarding their situation. Rin-Tin-Tin became irate and surly, taking out his anxiety on the others.

Echo was perturbed by the other male's behavior. The younger diamond dog had been growing more and more rebellious the farther they went in this hellhole. All signs pointed towards a possible confrontation in the future, something Echo never looked forward to.

Challenging a superior for the right to command was an intrinsic part of diamond dog society. If a male or female thought their Beta was unfit to lead, it was within their rights to challenge them for that role. A Beta was honor-bound to defend their title, and Echo had so far repelled all his challengers.

But would the other male really think to do this while they were on a mission such as this? He hoped not.

Fate, however, didn’t care what he thought. As the sun continued to bake down on the land, tensions came to a head, just as he feared.

He was pulling himself up another log, when the butt of a battleaxe crashed into his paw. He looked up to see Rin-Tin-Tin, glaring hotly down at him. “Why do you keep doing this? You are broken. You don’t have claws. You are half a diamond dog.”

Echo groaned to himself. Was Rin-Tin-Tin seriously going to try and taunt him into action? That would doubtfully work. Echo was known for brushing away insults as easily as a giant might brush away a fly. Daring, just a heads-up, but we may have a problem.

Yeah?

Rin. I think he’s finally gotten too big for his britches.

...He doesn’t wear any britches.

You know what I mean. Find a cloud and stay put for now, just in case. With that, he slammed their link closed to the merest thread of connection. No sense in making her experience an unneeded beating, after all.

Echo ignored the hothead's jeer, shoving the axe out of the way and grabbing onto the log with his other paw. Again, the butt of the weapon came down. He winced.

“Why should I follow half a diamond dog? You don’t want to kill the dragon, I can see this. You are scared. I am not scared. I do not bring shame upon this pack.”

Echo rolled to the side and scrambled up, continuing to move on.

Rin-Tin-Tin, however, would not be ignored. Angered by his Beta’s indifference, desperate to take out his anxiety on something, he lashed out.

Violently.

The flat of the axe suddenly crashed into Echo’s chest, catapulting him backwards over the edge of the log and into empty space, before he fell into the springy needles below. The air left his lungs with a noticeable wheeze of pain. He rolled as the other diamond dog slammed into the ground a heartbeat later. Rin-Tin-Tin was on him in a flash, kicking with his rear legs and pushing the axe at him, driving the shaft into his neck in an effort to force a submission. Nearby, Vixen yelped and dived out of the way of the tussling males.

Echo twisted and elbowed him firmly in the face, earning himself a few seconds of reprieve. He launched the male off him with a powerful two-legged kick to the stomach, sending him sprawling some ways away.

Echo crawled to his paws stood tall, unsheathing the shaman staff across his back and giving it a skillful twirl, before cocking it back under his arm.

He gestured with his free paw; the universal symbol for an invitation to a beat-down.

No more words needed to be said at this point. The challenge had been issued! Rin-Tin-Tin was on his paws almost instantly, rushing him and swinging his axe from the side. The staff snapped into action, deflecting the blow at the last possible second. Echo felt the small breeze of wind it made as the axe-head whistled past his face. He pulled back and sent the lower end of the staff up into his opponent’s gut. Rin-Tin-Tin howled in pain as the other end of his staff quickly lashed forward as well, smashing him in the face and violently denting his helm.

Echo ducked under the retaliatory strike, spinning away and sending a vicious backhand across Rin-Tin-Tin’s face, made all the more painful by the heavy bracers he wore. The other diamond dog was wearing a full helm, spaulders, and a chest guard, but beyond that, he was unarmored. Echo, on the other hand, only wore his hooded robe, sash, and bracers. It made him much lighter and faster than his opponent, and it showed.

Rin-Tin-Tin shook off the blow and raised his axe high, bringing it down for a mighty overhand chop. Echo side-stepped this and stamped a paw down on the weapon, holding it in place as he quickly struck with his staff - once, twice, three times!

The challenger roared in pain and abandoned his weapon, rearing backwards, bruised nicely in three unarmored places, before simply charging forward and bulling Echo into the ground. His staff went flying towards the fallen tree. The pair tumbled about for a moment until Rin-Tin-Tin emerged out on top, straddling his foe and pinning him down.

Echo gargled in pain as Rin-Tin-Tin pulled him forward and savagely head-butted him with enough force to make him see stars. A rain of blows began falling, and he weakly intercepted these as best as he could. Most he blocked with palm or bracer, but a few more got through, punishing him relentlessly. Echo himself had trained many of the Cinderwings, so he knew how they fought. But this was different. This was raw, uncoordinated, brawling.

He violently twisted, heaving and bucking until Rin-Tin-Tin was upsetted, and he rolled out from underneath and grappled wildly, the pair thrashing around in the dust before he was kicked away. He staggered to his paws, bleeding from where a punch had cut his lip open.

“See? You are weak!” Rin-Tin-Tin spat, before charging him for another tackle.

Weak, maybe, but not stupid. I’m not falling for that again.

Echo darted to the side, smoothly spinning and sweeping a leg out, taking the advancing attacker’s paws out from under him. Rin-Tin-TIn slammed face-first into the ground, skidding forward a few feet from the momentum. Echo gazed frantically around, eager to finish the fight as quickly as possible. His eyes settled on the fallen battle-axe, sunk into the earth. He wrenched this out of the ground and, just as Rin-Tin-Tin sprang back to his paws, Echo gripped it like a baseball bat and swung like it was the bottom of the ninth and the bases were loaded, connecting the back of the axe onto the top of Rin-Tin-Tin's helm as hard as he could, causing a spectacularly loud CLANG! to fill the air.

The heavy blow sent Rin-Tin-Tin drunkenly flying backwards, yelping in pain and surprise. Echo continued his advantage, relentlessly pummeling with his own weapon until the other diamond dog was backed against the fallen tree. In desperation, Rin-Tin-Tin surged forwards, arms swinging wildly, claws unsheathed.

Echo twisted around as the axe was knocked away by a lucky strike, and danced away again as he was forced to evade the storm of sharp claws. Suddenly, he found himself back against the tree. Shit! Think-think-think-think-think-GOT IT!

He spun and ran up the trunk, springing himself off and flipping over the frenzied diamond dog, landing in a smooth roll before he grabbed his fallen staff, twirling upwards and jabbing this forth, catching his foe in the neck as he spun around in astonishment. The blow hit straight and true, and Rin-Tin-Tin gasped with shock as his windpipe was pressed closed, Echo shoving him backwards until he was pinned against the tree by the end of his staff against his neck.

Both diamond dogs fought for air, covered in ash and needles, glaring at each other. Echo’s hood had been lifted back during the fight, and a cut above his cold, grey eyes was bleeding steadily. He ruthlessly pressed forward on his staff.

Rin-Tin-Tin held out for another few seconds before he realized the fight was lost. “Yield! Yield!” he called in desperation, sucking in a breath of fresh air the second Echo’s staff pulled away. He collapsed, sitting down hard, armor dented in several places. He spat out a broken tooth. “You fight well, for half a diamond dog,” he wheezed.

Echo sat next to him, leaning against the tree. “You fight not as well, for a full one.” Rin-Tin-Tin roared with laughter at this, slapping him comradely on the back, all aggression gone. It was as if a switch had been pulled.

Echo sighed to himself. Diamond dog life was a constant competition for dominance. Only the best of the best could rise to power. No doubt that Rin-Tin-Tin would be at his throat again in a few months. It wasn’t the first time he’d issued a challenge, after all. The others were no better; even Vixen and Lassie had each fought and lost to him once.

It eerily reminded him of being on a sports team.

Even he was expected to abide by the unspoken laws of diamond dog culture. He’d had to challenge Ginger, though unwillingly, to prove to the others that she could handle herself. The mare had shown absolutely no mercy, despite their friendship, and had sent a clear message to the others that she was not to be trifled with, despite her species difference.

Echo lapsed out of his train of thought when he noticed Daring had been banging on his metaphorical door. He widened the link a bit. What is it? I’m a little tired, in case you haven’t noticed.

Daring huffed. I know, I was watching. But, one thing No. Two things, actually.

Lay ‘em on me.

One; I know where the nest is, she said.

Okay...

Daring continued. He could sense her excitement, a tingle in his blood, despite being exhausted from the fight. Ginger sent up her signal flare. I can see it from here.

Right. She must have found the entrance, then. What’s number two?

Daring hesitated for a few seconds. She always saved the best for last, he’d noticed. We’ve got company, she stated.

Echo slapped his face with a paw. Vixen, who was inspecting Rin-Tin-Tin’s wounds, flinched away in surprise. He scowled at her. ...The zebra?

Yep. She tracked us all the way from the camp. Impressive, huh?

I had a feeling this would happen. We seem to run into a plethora of strong-willed females, for some odd reason.

Is that a bad thing? Daring growled. Echo chose his next words very carefully.

No...just...dangerous. Mostly to me, as it usually turns out.

Wimp.

He sighed. It had been a rough day since the moment he woke up.

I don’t know, the beginning was pretty sweet for you and I.

Aye, but it was most certainly rough.

Daring giggled. Did you just make a dirty joke, Echo?

I don’t know what you’re talking about, he pompously sniffed. Echo groaned and stood up, cracking his back loudly before slowly climbing up the tree. He scanned the broken horizon,and sure enough, he spied a green plume of smoke rising in the distance by a small, rocky hill. That was where Ginger and the dragon were, he observed.

He peered around again, squinting in the sunlight, until he spotted her. The black-and-white dot against the grey backdrop of the fields of ash stood out like a sore thumb. He whistled at the two other diamond dogs and gestured for them to stay put, before loping off down the fallen tree.

Above, as the sun began to sink towards the horizon, it dipped the world in gold.

Achievement Earned: "Doggystyle"

Level up! - Echo Ghostclaws, Beta of the Cinderwings + Dr. Daring Do, PhD.

-Perk Unlocked: Afterglow: (+10 spirit, -1 intelligence) "I just had sex...and it felt so good!" You just scored some tail. You feel on top of the world!

-Perk Upgraded: Prototype Telepathy Spell: (+6 intellect, +20 magic) The bond between you and your significant other is growing, causing unexpected psychological and physical alterations. Science might be an annoying bitch, but Magic is her slutty, drug-addicted cousin. Who enjoys screwing with your head.

[I - Sixth] The Calm Before the Firestorm

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

CHAPTER THE SIXTH

In which good times are remembered, unwanted feelings are brought forth, and drugs are abused.

Like, duuuuuuuuuuuuuude...

Ginger Snap

The cave wasn’t that hard to find.

A mighty gash in the side of a small hill, it looked as though the dragon had simply pried apart the ground with sheer brute force. Ironically, atop the crest were several of the only living ironwood trees to be seen for miles in any direction. It stood out pointedly, a proclamation of dominance over the land, a crown of green for the king of the hill.

Some ways away, behind a cluster of scorched boulders, the Cinderwings waited for the rest of their numbers to arrive. The scent of dragon was strong in the air, now, and the diamond dogs had grown skittish.

Their Alpha kept watch, lying on a small, flat-topped rock. Her head rested down upon her forelegs, eyeing the way into the dragon’s lair with a frown upon her face. Aside from the occasional blink or flick of the ear, she was still and silent.

Ginger felt eerily calm, a state of mind which she rarely experienced. It was the calm before the storm, she assumed. Though, she couldn't deny she was nervous. How could she not be? They were about to storm the hoard of a dragon, one of the most dangerous creatures in the world. They were like castles, if castles were scaly, flying, and could breathe fire.

She scowled. This could go very wrong, very fast.

The time for action had arrived, though. She could not back out of this, not now, not so close. Her standing would plummet. Her pack would rise up against her, over-throwing Echo first, through sheer numbers, challenging him over and over again until even his renowned stamina failed him. And then the new Beta would come after her. Until she redeemed herself, she would know no rest, always glancing over her shoulder in fear of an uprising. Like it or not, she needed the mute diamond dog as second-in-command. His unwillingness to lead cemented her into power.

She needed this to work. Badly. Her pack would explode onto the radar of the Diamond Lords. With their attention, she could begin her own path to greater power...and that path started here, today, in the shadow of a pile of blackened rocks.

Sudden noise came from behind. Ginger turned, to find Luther bounding up, the pudgy diamond dog clad in an ill-fitting suit of patchwork armor. “The others!” he announced, his tail wagging slightly. “They are here, from thattaway!” He pointed over towards the west, where the pinpricks of color on the bleached landscape were closing in.

About damn time. Ginger frowned at the distant specks. They’d be here in five, maybe ten minutes.

“Ready the rest,” she snapped. “Sharpen your claws and get your armor ready.”

Luther attempted to salute, but knocked himself in the face with his spear, the over-large helm he was wearing comically bouncing around on his skull.

“And for Celestia’s sake, give that kettle you call a helmet to somepony bigger than you.”

“But it is kettle.”

One of Ginger’s eyes twitched.

“Does Coconut know you’re using that?”

“I ask foodpony if I can borrow. He say yes.”

“Does he know what you’re using it for?”

Luther looked like he was about to say something, and then abruptly deflated.

“Uh-oh...”

Ginger fixed him with a stare. “I don’t think he’d like his soup-kettle used as a helmet. When we get back, I’m not responsible for what happens to you. But take some advice. Give it back to him when he doesn’t have anything nearby.”

“W-why?”

“You will never look at a spatula the same way ever again.”

Luther’s eye’s widened. With a start, he scrambled away towards the others, tail tucked down between his legs.

Ginger glared after him for a moment, then burst into quiet laughter. How in Equestria they’re more scared of a pacifistic cook than me I’ll never know. Then again, the jolly chef was unusually skilled with those sharp utensils of his.

The unicorn shuddered to herself.

The nearby Cinderwings began to prepare, just as she asked. Lassie was already outfitted, clad in leather-and-iron banded armor and carrying an enormous longbow. The quiver across her back held arrows longer than Ginger’s body. Each had been tipped with a diamond arrowhead. The female was the only one of the pack who had anything like it, and took pride in that. Nearby, Luther finished tightening his kettlepot helmet, scraps of metal dangling loosely around his body with no particular concern for order. His spear was crooked, and the diamond tip notched. Out of them all, Old Yeller remained, wearing only a ragged vest and the pack collar. His own spear, a long and warped piece of driftwood, capped with a narrow steeple of iron, was stuck in the ground as he leaned on it heavily.

“Yeller, I gave an order. Get your armor ready.” Ginger approached him from the side, noticing the peculiar expression the venerable diamond dog wore. “Something wrong, old timer?”

Old Yeller gave her a meditative glance. “I not bring armor. Armor will not stop dragonfire. Not much can.”

“Such as?”

“Two things. Your blade is one thing. It is mage-metal, what you ponies call ‘arcanite.’ It repels magic, cuts through it. Dragonfire is magic, dragon magic. A suit of mage-metal will deflect this away.”

Ginger drew her sword from its scabbard and held the handle in a telekinetic grip, testing the familiar balance. So, this could repel dragonfire, then? Small wonder. It was a deadly, beautiful item, formerly the enormous spearhead from the Greenclaw Alpha’s own weapon. It had been reforged into something a pony could use, after the Battle of Wethoof. It had served Ginger well ever since, and she had become quite the swordsmare. Ginger shrugged and sheathed the blade again. “What else?”

“Another dragon,” Old Yeller said bluntly. “It takes another to match their might.”

Ginger looked at the cave on the hillside again, wondering if this was all really going to be worth it in the end. Old Yeller moved off to sit in the shade, sensing the conversation was at an end for a time.

For a short while, there was only the rustle of wind, rasping over the burned and blackened landscape.

The beating rays of the sun were relentless. All the diamond dogs were panting by now, roasting in their armor. The heat didn’t bother her, though. It never did. She hoped that her special gift wouldn’t fail her now. She would need it desperately.

A flickering of a shadow spreading around her snapped Ginger out of her thoughts. Dragon! She immediately sprang up reared around, horn igniting she launched a fireball at where she thought it might be.

There was an awkward gasp of surprise, and Daring Do suddenly impacted right into her, knocking the pair tumbling end over end into the ash. Ginger coughed as she was slammed on top of Daring, before rolling off the pegasus. She staggered back to her hooves, about to chew the explorer out for scaring her like that.

But when she saw Daring lying there, in a split second, her heart dropped into her stomach. The pith helmet strapped to her head was warped and smouldering, smoke obscuring her features.

“Daring! Oh, buck, buck, buck!” Ginger was at her side, pushing away the other Cinderwings as the ash settled from the landing. She rolled the mare onto her back, tearing off her helmet, and the pegasus looked dazedly up.

“What...huh?” she mumbled.

Ginger gently shook her, almost hysterical. The sight of the pegasus lying like that brought a queer sense of familiarity to her, like she’d been in this situation before. She nudged Daring with a hoof. “C’mon, Daring, are you alright? Please tell me you’re alright! I didn’t mean to do that, I just thought you were something else...”

Then it her her. She had been in this situation before.

Cloud...

“...Ginger? C’mon, you all right?”

Ginger Snap opened her eyes, and found the world turned sideways. She lying on the soft, sweet grass out in the small field beyond the village. She rolled over onto her back, forelegs tucked against her chest. There was a pony lying beside her in a similar manner, a pretty pegasus mare with a pale pink coat and a ruby-red mane. She gave Ginger a warm, if somewhat dazed smile.

“Cloud? What happened? Why does my head hurt so much?” the unicorn murmured.

“We, uh, kind of took a tumble,” said Cloud Nine. “When you leaned out too far, the perch finally gave out.”

Ginger looked skywards. Above her was the small tree they liked to rest in. One of the branches was broken.

“Wow. We fell from there?”

“Hoo, man! Did we ever! Well, you did, at least. I swooped down underneath you and cushioned your fall. But still, Ginger, we hit pretty hard. For a second I thought you were a goner,” Cloud Nine said, sincere relief etched across her face. She leaned aside and nuzzled Ginger on the cheek. “Don’t ever do that again, you klutz. Gave me a heart attack...”

Ginger warmly returned the nuzzle. “Sorry, Cloud,” she murmured. “Guess I’m getting too fat for our special place.”

Cloud Nine snorted, a rush of hot air in her ear. “Filly please, you’ve got flanks like the Princess. Everypony knows that pegasi are really light. It’s how we’re built. Hollow bones, and all that.”

Ginger giggled, bopping her on the nose with her horn. The two young mares rolled around together in the grass, laughing as they playfully wrestled, not a care in the world.

The pair had been close, like two peas in a pod from the get-go. Ever since they had met, still little fillies, on that first day of the dry season, all those years ago. Best friends since the very beginning. The ponies of Wethoof couldn’t think of Ginger without thinking of Cloud, and vice-versa. They were the Terrible Two, the lovable scamps of the town - almost like good luck charms for the backwoods rainforest settlement.

They were always getting into trouble, as young ponies were wont to do. Stealing pies off of windowsills, ‘accidentally’ setting fire to the old, decrepit schoolhouse so a new one could finally be built, terrorizing the Greenclaw camp whenever the nearby diamond dog pack brought in shiny gems for trade.

As the years rolled by, their foalhood adventures gradually ceased, but the bond between them remained strong. The innocent embraces and honest affection of their younger years gave way to something...more. A new, deeper passion they found for each other. Maybe it had always been there, maybe not. But neither were complaining.

It was love.

Sweet, naive, youthful love, in all of its radiant glory.

Late afternoon found the pair curled up against each other at the base of that very same tree. Ginger sighed with contentment as she lay across Cloud’s stomach, while the pegasus idly played a hoof through her fiery mane.

“Hey, hot stuff?”

Ginger lightly flicked her tail into Cloud’s face. “I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Yeah, well.” Cloud Nine humphed. “You think we should be getting back to town, now? I don’t remember if we told anypony we’d be gone for this long.”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. You know my Dad. He knows when I’m in trouble. It’s like this weird sixth sense of his for finding out when something’s wrong.”

“Maybe it comes with the job?”

“Pfft. Since when did being the mayor give you superpowers?”

“Superpowers? Really? This coming from the unicorn who melted down a solid iron ball into a puddle two nights ago by accident?”

Ginger grumbled something into Cloud’s stomach. The pegasus laughed at this.

“I like this. Let’s stay here for the night. Just the two of us. If we aren’t going to be missed back in the village, then we might as well.”

“Ho-ho, just want to have me all to yourself, hmm?”

“No, I want to have us to ourselves.”

Ginger blushed at that. “Oh?”

Cloud nodded seriously. “Oh. It isn’t often we get the chance to sneak off like this.”

“I could get used to it. We should get away more often,” Ginger said.

“Yeah. Just the two of us.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, dozing together as the sun began to sink into the western sky.

Evening came, gentle as a falling leaf. It was one of those few special days a year when the sky in this part of the world wasn’t blanketed by powerful rain clouds and a constant drizzle.

It was that strange part of the day, just before the nocturnal creatures of the forest came out. A lull of silence would fall over the land, a calm before the storm. The nights in the Haysead Swamp were always a riot of noise and action, even with the rising of the moon. The ponies who called the place home had grown used to it, though, a welcome ambience that signified all was still right in the world.

Despite herself, the normally irate unicorn found a truly contented smile playing across her face as she laid together with her mare.

She was happy.

“I love you, Cloud.”

“I know. I love you too, Ginger.”

She was - for a blessed, fleeting moment - at peace.

Ginger loomed over the fallen pegasus, hoof frozen mid-nudge.

Reality slapped her across the face. This wasn't Cloud Nine. Cloud Nine was dead. Had been dead since Wethoof. She was gone and buried, along with Ginger's heart.

And yet, for an instant, Daring's tawny gold feathers flickered a pale pink.

The unicorn sat down, hard, shaking her head violently as if to clear away the image. “Please...please, are you okay?” she muttered half-to herself. “This was my fault, I’m sorry.”

What the hay had that been? One moment she was here, the next, somewhere else. Somewhen else. With somepony else.

Ginger’s mind churned, ugly thoughts threatening to break the surface of the already-stormy ocean that was her heart.

That wasn’t possible, she rationed.

It was a memory, she reasoned.

A flashback, she assured herself.

…

Right?

Daring Do blinked several times, seemingly coming out of a daze.

“You bucking shot me with a fireball!” she suddenly screeched, lurching off her back and forcing her muzzle into Ginger’s face. Ginger shrank pathetically backwards as the mare in front of her advanced step after step.

“I-I know, I’m sorry, you just startled me,” she managed to squeak, scared and confused. “I wasn’t thinking. Reflex.” She lowered her eyes.

The few diamond dogs nearby watched the confrontation with hanging jaws and surprised stares.

Daring Do relentlessly drove her onward until she was backed up against a boulder. “You shot me with a fireball,” she repeated, “for utterly no reason. Do you have any idea what that could have done if it had hit me anywhere else but my helmet?” The pegasus drew closer and closer. Ginger shuddered as she felt warm breath strike her face. She raised her eyes, matching her own startling green orbs to Daring’s magenta ones.

“Do you?!”

“I d-don’t know...”

Daring glanced down at her hooves and frowned. “My helmet!” She scooped it up with a wing. The tan pith helmet, the signature apparel that had been with her for all of her adventures, the object that had saved her life on multiple occasions - was done. It had been charred and blackened, warped grotesquely out of proportion. Daring’s eyes glazed over for a moment, a small tear threatening to spill over before she brushed it away.

The pegasus abruptly tossed the hat into the air, before zipping upwards and performing a neat flipping kick, launching it far away, where it vanished into the bleak landscape. She then landed heavily back down where she launched.

There was a pregnant silence for a time.

Then, a soft sigh was heard.

“Ginger.”

That was all she said - but the way she said it! Ginger felt sick to her stomach with guilt and shame. She looked away.

Suddenly, something wrapped itself around her. She struggled.

“Ginger, stop.”

She stopped.

“Look at me.”

She did. Daring gave her a warm, yet sad smile. All the former aggression had completely melted away.

“You need to chill out, hon. As hard as that is for somepony like you,” she chuckled at the joke. “I should be the one saying I’m sorry.”

“...What?”

“I know you’re dealing with a lot right now, and you’re under a lot of stress. I shouldn’t have approached you like that. I also shouldn’t have lost it, either.”

“B-but, your helmet-”

“-I know about the helmet, okay!?” Daring bristled, then relaxed again. “Believe me, I’ve had that thing since I was a filly. Maybe today is just the day I outgrow it. Look. We all lose a few things important to us as we move through a lifetime. But, if you think about it, that’s not so bad. Sometimes, you just need to clear out a space before you can fill it up again with all kinds of wonderful stuff. So enough about the helmet.”

Ginger stared at her, open mouthed.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing, don’t worry. Look, I’m sorry and everything. Let’s just...move on, now, okay?” Her cheeks felt uncharacteristically hot, even for her. “Where’s the rest of your group?” she asked, eager to get off this subject.

Daring paused for a moment. “A minute or two away. There was another challenge on Echo. Rin-Tin-Tin, this time. Overdue, if you ask me - he’s been itching for a fight for weeks, now.”

“And the bag with Vixen?”

“Err...it’s fine. What’s in that thing, anyway?”

“Just something to level the playing field. Provided you brought your dynamite as well.”

“You bet I did. A mare’s gotta be prepared for anything, you know. And speaking of unprepared, it seems our striped guest decided to sneak along for the adventure.”

Ginger cursed. “The filly? How did she get away from camp?”

“Feathers if I know. Point is, somehow, she kept up with us and managed to track us all the way here. Kid’s got pluck, if you ask me. But...what should we do with her?”

“I did say she was Echo’s responsibility. Until I say otherwise, she’s not of my concern, as long as she stays out of the way,” Ginger said. It seemed a bit harsh, but she had to remain steadfast in this. The little zebra had been claimed by the Beta, and now she was his charge until they could leave her somewhere.

Daring didn’t seem bothered by this, though. “Got it, chief.” She flashed Ginger a smile and moved off towards the other dogs, leaving Ginger alone once again with her thoughts.

The unicorn let out a breath of air she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

A puddle of dirty water lay nearby. She looked into it, and at the mare who looked back at her. For the first time in a long while, she gave herself a good, long look, still shaken by the encounter with Daring.

Is that really what I look like?

Her quest hadn’t been kind to her. The fiery mane was matted and clumped, small bits of brush and dirt tangled inside it. The face staring back at her looked gaunt and hungry, and the three small scars on the side of her jaw seemed to stick out more than ever. Muck and grime smeared everything, turning her cinnamon coat a nasty, sickly color. Her barding was smoke-stained, worn and beaten, covered in various nicks and dents accumulated by a life on the road and a life around diamond dogs. But her eyes were the same - burning pits of molten green, bright with anger and grief.

Ginger found herself unable to match her own stare, such was the unsettling power of those eyes.

“Get a hold of yourself,” she quietly scolded the mare in the water.

The mare tried to put on a reassuring face, but it came out more like a grimace. Ginger scowled at this, and the visage followed suit. Ginger angrily splashed a hoof in the puddle, destroying the reflection.

When it reformed, a different face looked back at her.

It was pure white, with a swept back, pale blue mane and eyes like dirty chips of ice. His face was haggard and hard. It was face that she knew well.

Ginger seethed with a brilliant rage at this, and reared, her horn lit up, and the puddle of water was suddenly vaporized in a jet of fire.

Now sitting in the faint depression in the ground was a stormy gray alicorn, clad in a bizarrely colored cloak.

“Well, I was about to ask for a hot tub, but I think you’ve overdone it a little,” he sniffed.

Ginger felt a vein pulse on the side of her neck. “Disarray. Leave. Now.”

“Sorry, Disarray isn’t here right now, please leave a message at the beep.” The alicorn stood up and hopped lightly out of the pit. He cocked his head to the side and waited a few seconds before a faint beep was heard from an unknown source.

“...Wait, Entropy?”

The alicorn nodded. “Ding-a-ling. We have a winner, ladies and gentlecolts.”

“You used the Two Sides One Coin spell? Again?”

“And Bingo was his name-o.”

“Why exactly was this necessary?”

Entropy gave a hearty chuckle. “Because, you silly filly. I don’t keep all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. Multitasking is just naughty habit of mine. I like to do two things at once. That’s why I put cocaine inside my blunts.” He then produced a small length of white material, lit on one end, and took a very deep drag from it. He let out a satisfied sigh and said to nopony in particular, “Kids, don’t try this at home. Only reason I’m still standing is because I’ve got tiger blood and Adonis DNA, and if you smoked this, you’d probably die. Capiche?”

Ginger stared at him.

“What?” said the alicorn, exhaling a puff of noxious smoke from his ears.

“At this point, I’m not even sure whether or not you know what you’re going to do next,” said Ginger.

“Porkchop sandwiches!” Entropy affirmed, nodding sagely.

“Right...So, where’s Disarray, if you’re here?”

“Right now, prison.” He said it as if it were a simple fact of life, or merely commenting on the weather.

“Doing...?”

“Hopefully, not dropping the soap.” The more mild side of the once-Prince declared seriously. “But, in all honesty, that’s none of your beeswax, so I insist that you go stick your nose into a different hive. Curiosity killed the cat, after all.”

Ginger blinked. “Was that a threat, Entropy?” she asked softly. The thinly-veiled danger in her voice was palpable. She was sure she could beat the alicorn if she got the drop on him first, but if he managed to use his reality-altering powers quick enough...

He laughed. “A threat? Oh, you must have mistaken me for someone who fights fairly, Miss Snap.” Suddenly, in a flash of magic, he appeared not inches away. “I don’t give warnings,” he said coldly. “And I am not bound to your little tribe of puppies, so don’t presume to have authority over me. I am here only for the sole reason of the fact that I find Fluffy so integral to my ambitions.”

“Your ambitions? If you’re trying to use this pack for your own ends...”

“Oh, don’t be so naive. You are but a pawn in a much larger game of chess,” Entropy sniffed and fluttered his wings. “Luckily for you, you’re going to be on the winning side - because like I said earlier, I don’t follow rules; I make and break them. I also don’t hold myself to playing only one side of the board.” The alicorn abruptly spun about and stalked away, the conversation clearly over.

Ginger glared after him, pupils boring holes into the back of his head. If it weren’t for the fact that the Prince hadn’t saved their lives on countless occasions already, she might have actually done such a thing.

Unpredictable madpony, she seethed. She was more angry for the fact that she’d come to rely on his timely intervention in the first place. It made her weak, trapped behind a shield she could not lift. She was not some helpless filly, anymore; she was a tried and tested warrior, a veteran of the Battle of Wethoof and the one who dealt the deathblow to Ahuitzotl himself. She had faced a swarm of hydras and had a hoof in the extinction of the Greenclaws. If there was anypony here who could take care of herself, it was Ginger Snap. She was very, very dangerous, and it showed.

But to keep using Disarray as a safety net...it could not stand. One way or another, it had to end, or she would never be able to call herself a true Alpha.

She resolved to find a way to somehow do away with the entire situation...and possibly the Prince himself, if he kept demonstrating a superiority to her.

It wasn’t like she’d asked him to come along. The self-exiled noble was hell bent on it. He seemed to owe some sort of gratitude to Echo and Daring, perhaps that was why he stuck around. The way they told it, he’d been freed from a long imprisonment by them on some escapade long before they’d met at Wethoof.

Celestia-damned Wethoof.

It always came back to Wethoof, for one reason or another.

Ginger snorted angrily and stomped away towards the top of the rockpile the pack was sheltering behind. The green hill of the dragon’s den still lay beyond, as immortal and immovable as a mountain.

She suddenly wanted to destroy it, to utterly crush it into dust.

Celestia-damned dragons.

Yet another obstacle in between her and the ultimate prize - a new nation, a new order, under her. Lousy diamond dogs couldn’t take care of themselves.

Celestia-damned diamond dogs.

Then again, they were the whole reason she was here in the first place.

She shot a glance over to the pack. By this time, Echo’s group, the three others that had been in the wastes, had returned, finally caught up to Daring Do. Among them was Zanza, the little zebra filly. She hung away, nervously poking at the ground, clearly uncomfortable around the diamond dogs. She looked tired, dirty, and guilty, though Ginger saw the light of determination in her eyes. Ginger snorted to herself - Echo would have his paws full dealing with that one.

Already there was already a warm welcoming between the packmates. Friendly cuffing and boisterous laughing was heard. From the fragments of conversation blown on the dry wind, Ginger heard tell of another challenge made, the first one in a while. Once again, she owed the stability of her leadership to Echo, who steadfastly barricading the entrance to power.

Celestia-damned Echo.

She didn’t understand him. Everything he did went against all she knew of diamond dogs. They revelled in combat and conflict, while he seemed to despise it. They valued material wealth, collecting small hoards of treasures that were nestled into their bedding. She often had to mete out punishments for stealing from ponies and each other - a constant battle. Her Beta, meanwhile, carried all he owned in the world on his person.

“Echo!” she barked. The diamond dog smartly spun about from where the others were busy looking at a magnificent bruise he’d received on his jaw, no doubt from the challenge he’d won. He was at her side in an instant. He smelled like ash and dirt and freshly cut wood, for some odd reason.

Ginger pointed a hoof towards the green-capped hill. “I want you to take your group - Daring and the zebra, too - and circle that rise. Inspect the entrance to the lair, but do not, under any circumstances, go inside. Report back on anything of interest you find.” The diamond dog looked at her strangely. For some odd reason, everypony had been doing that lately. “Well, what are you standing around, for? Go!”

Echo saluted her with that strange one-fingered gesture he was so fond of, before swiftly returning to the others. After a brief issuance of orders, interpreted by Daring Do, the Cinderwings that arrived with him split off from the pack, and left in a cloud of gray dust and ash blown up by their receding pawsteps.

For some odd reason, Ginger found herself watching as the figure of the pegasus zipped up into the sky, soon becoming nothing more that a small dark blip as she circled above the hilltop. Her muscles unclenched a little. She hadn’t realized she was so tense.

For a while, there was a peace. There was nothing to do until Echo’s band returned with the report, except sit around idly and watch the distant hilltop and the specks now moving around it. She spent the time lying in the shade of the rockpile, her head in her forelegs, as her remaining pack lounged around and groomed each other.

It was a strange sort of interaction, Ginger thought. The diamond dogs would use their tongues and teeth to clean out the coats of their packmates. None of them groomed alone, unless something had happened that had severely lowered their social standing. Ginger recalled a time that Chance had once accidentally sent one of the supply wagons off the edge of a cliff, plummeting into a gorge until it shattered along the rock walls. All the food and several of the pack’s possessions had been lost, and their displeasure with him was evident. Chance had been shunned for almost an entire month. He was treated as if he weren't even there, as if an invisible wraith stood in his place. Ginger had tried to intervene, but Old Yeller had pulled her aside and told her that it had to happen.

Aside from the justice she dealt out as Alpha, and by extension, her Beta, the pack tended to judge itself. Most small disputes and issues were resolved on the spot. If a pack member was doing wrong, the pack would pass its own kind of judgement upon them. Stealing food, for example, was a crime that could be worth a beating from the victim. Cowardice and incompetence, like Chance had displayed, earned the odd social exile.

There were no real laws within the Cinderwings. Ginger had never established any formal rules. It was a common kinship that bound them together. In diamond dog terms, they were, technically, family, despite several members being born in various places across Equestria. They lived, slept, ate, fought, loved, and died together. That’s what it meant to be in a pack. It was more than a gang of furry thugs. It was a home, a society that they all had to share.

Family tends to take care of itself, Ginger mused. Thoughts of her own family crept into her mind. Her father had been a hard stallion, stoic and cold, but had loved her fiercely, even if he rarely showed it. Her mother had been his polar opposite, wild and tempestuous. Ginger wished she remembered more of her.

A sudden nudge on her side brought her back to reality. It was Old Yeller, surprisingly, gently prodding her with his cold, wet, nose. Ginger stiffened, ready to move away, when a warmth on her other side pressed up. It was Lassie. The other Cinderwings had gathered around, laying about in a close huddle, grooming each other. Their Alpha had now become the center of the pack.

Ginger felt something warm and wet rasp across her ear. At first, the sensation was shocking. She faintly realized that Lassie had begun grooming her. The diamond dog’s tongue was strangely rough and very strong, and Ginger soon found herself soothed by it. A small nip along her spine told her that Old Yeller was busy combing through her ragged coat with his teeth and claws, gently cleaning it out. It was an intimate moment, but a different kind of togetherness, that of friends and comrades, merely scratching each other’s backs. A low rumble sounded out, a contented hum that was quickly picked up by the others. It was a happy, lazy sound, that spoke of warmth and comfort.

Ginger relaxed with her pack, and for the first time in a long while, a small, contented smile crept onto her face.

Achievement Unlocked! - "Feather Fetish"

Level Up! - Ginger Snap, Alpha of the Cinderwings

Perks unlocked! -

-Blood In the Water: (-1 int, -1 spirit, immunity to poison) That strange sensation you feel in your veins? Congratulations! It's not some life-threatening disease. It's just, oh, you know, the waters of the River Styx. The dead know you can see them, now. Expect hauntings. I suggest having the Ghostbusters on speed-dial, Odin knows you're going to need them.

Location Discovered! - Lady Pyrite's Crown

[I - Seventh] Thunder Down Under

View Online

CHAPTER THE SEVENTH

In which the stone runs red, pinecones are explosive, and a filly comes into her own.

Zanza

“...What you think down there?”

The three diamond dogs and the pegasus were crouched on the side of the hill, staring down into the small, black maw of a mysterious tunnel. Zanza hunkered down nearby, ears flicking nervously.

Having grass underneath her felt strange after so long in the ironwood forest. Here, atop the rise, there were only small, deciduous saplings, each barely taller than the diamond dogs. At least here there was green, though. But why that was, Zanza couldn’t possibly guess. Maybe the dragon liked having a nice-looking place to live?

A sudden rumbling noise filled the air, on the very edges of her hearing. At the hole, most of the diamond dogs leapt away as a blast of hot air shot forth, smelling of smoke and a strange, powerful spiciness. The younger one, with the dark fur and the battleaxe, had kept his head inside the hole. He pulled this back now, and the others laughed at his windswept appearance.

“You keep sticking nose in places it does not belong, you lose it eventually,” commented the female with the burlap sack.

“Is better than having other things stuck into me,” countered her packmate, grouchily rubbing his slightly-singed muzzle.

Daring Do, standing nearby, snickered at that.

Echo, meanwhile, was huddled at the edge of the hole, rummaging around in his pack, before removing a small strip of material and holding it above the void. Zanza watched, curious, as the strip of material changed colors rapidly, flashing like a rainbow. The Beta must have taken that as a sign for something, because he waved them all over, even her. He crouched next to Daring and began to speak through her.

“What we have here is a vent,” she explained. “It’s used to prevent the air inside from getting stale. You all make these when digging out larger dens for yourselves. There should be more scattered around the hillside.”

The female with the sack raised a paw. “Why do we care about this?”

“We can tell a lot from how many vents a dragon’s hoard has. Usually the size of the actual hoard, and of the dragon living inside of it. In addition, we can exploit these as a weakness. Vixen, open up the bag.”

Vixen did so, upending the contents onto the ground with a satisfied sigh of relief. Zanza’s eyes widened in confusion at the objects now laying before them.

“Pinecones?” she asked blankly.

Sure enough, about a dozen ironwood pinecones, each the size of a small beach ball, lay in the sunlight. They had a sort of metallic sheen to them, and the edges of the ridges seemed particularly sharp. Zanza noted that a hole had been bored in each one, straight into the center.

Echo nodded and stepped forward, picking one off the ground. With some unseen signal, Daring Do reached into her saddlebag and removed a stick of something red, trailing a small string. Echo then inserted the stick into the hole, leaving nothing but the string dangling out.

He then promptly shoved the entire pinecone into the opening in the ground, plugging it up.

“...I don’t get it,” said the younger male.

“Maybe we block dragon’s airway?” suggested Vixen.

“Then what boomstick for?”

The male scratched his head. “For boom?”

Vixen smacked a paw to her face.

“No, what it in pinecone for!”

“For boom,” assured Daring Do. “Do you remember those explosions we heard last night during the fire? Those were the pinecones. We’re going to plug all the holes we can find, and then rig the cones to blow with the dynamite, and bring the entire roof of the cave down on top of the dragon.”

“Now?”

“No, not right now! This is the backup plan, in case things go awry.”

“Ooooohhh...” said both of the other diamond dogs.

“I’ll be staying up here with some matches at the ready. When Echo gives me the signal, I’ll light the fuse and fly to safety. Hopefully, you’ll make it out in time. Once I light it, you’ll have about half a minute until the roof comes down.”

“How you get signal if Beta is down in caves with us?”

Daring smirked.

“Trust me, I’ll get it. Now, we’ve got the surface reconnaissance done, you all need to get back to the pack and meet up with Ginger for the raid. I’ll stay here and set these charges. Everypony got it?” A collective nod went around the group, with exception of Zanza, who raised a hoof.

“Um...what should I do?”

Echo scratched his chin with a finger, before perking up. “You’ll stay here with Daring Do and assist her in any way you can,” he told her as he brushed by. Zanza shivered a little, still getting used to the fact that his mouth never moved when he spoke. “Listen and learn as much as you can, young one, and I’ll be making good on my promise in no time at all.”

Then the big diamond dog padded silently off, his two packmates close on his heels. They soon dropped below the hill and were lost to sight. Zanza trotted back over to the pegasus, who was busy rummaging around in her saddlebags, pulling out a tangled mess of wire. “Hey, kiddo, help me out with this rat’s nest,” she said.

Zanza, who had taken hold of the mess, abruptly dropped it and sprang away. “Rats?”

“Figure of speech. There’s no rats. Sorry. I forgot that zebras use different phrases for things.” Daring picked up the pile and began to untangle it. “It’s been awhile since I’ve been to the Zavannah.” She flashed Zanza a smile. “Nice place to live, if you don’t mind roughing it.”

Zanza cautiously began to sort through her section of wire, still unsure of what to make of this odd pony. The pair fell quiet, working quickly. Daring would take the sections that Zanza untangled and fly off to the other vents, rigging up another explosive pinecone at the site. She then proceeded to connect all the lines into a single length, twisting it together like rope.

After a while, the silence began to gnaw at her.

“Can I ask you something?” she suddenly blurted

Daring looked up from where she was attaching a small box to the master line. “You just did,” she said with a grin. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Go ahead.”

“How did you end up here?”

That question seemed to give the pegasus pause.

“Like, here as in here, or here as in here?”

“Ummm...the second one. I think.”

Daring pressed a button on the box. A green light on the side began flashing red. “Well, I’d been exploring the jungle for a couple months, and I’d found an area that’d been almost completely untouched by ponykind, filled with ruins dating back a couple millenium. So, I staked it out, built myself a treehouse as the center of my expedition, and started digging.

“You wouldn’t believe the stuff I found, kiddo. Priceless gems, idols, carvings, knick-knacks, I found it all! Nopony else was good enough to handle the booby traps that these ruins were chock-full of, so it was just me out here all alone, sending back treasure after treasure to the universities that sponsored me. A couple years of doing that, and somepony decided to write a book series about some of my more dramatic adventures.” Daring Do rubbed the back of her neck. “Of course, they exaggerate quite a bit. But hey, bits are bits, and eventually I had enough to go freelance. That’s when things really began to pick up.”

Zanza found herself taking a seat beside the pegasus, who was sitting back and gesturing with her hooves as she spoke.

Daring went on to spin a grand tale. After amassing a small fortune from her exploits, she began to lean more towards archeology, rather than simple treasure hunting. Discovery became her passion, and instead of cleaning a ruin dry when she discovered it, she merely observed it, taking detailed notes and drawing about her discoveries. It became less about the treasure, and more about the actual ruins themselves.

She came to despise those who simply took, as she had once done. At one point, she ran into another explorer, who was seeking an item of great power for nefarious purposes. One who would grow to become her greatest nemesis.

“...Ahuitzotl?” whispered Zanza, who had read several of the books.

Daring Do nodded grimly. “He was the best. Intelligent, relentless, talented...not to mention well funded. But he was arrogant, and only cared about the money, and the power it bought him.”

She went on to describe how they had run into each other over the years. The catlord had begun hunting various mystical artifacts in an effort to harness their strange magic. And every time, Daring Do had been able to swoop in at the last moment and snatch it right out of his evil claws. It came to the point where saving the world from certain doom became a habit.

And then her luck ran out.

“It was the Gryphon’s Goblet that screwed me over,” said Daring. “It was the usual routine for us. I fall into trap, he does his monologue, I break out of trap, he calls in his goons, I steal the relic and get away. The difference was, this time I ended up cornered by a crocodile infested river and a busted wing.”

“What happened?”

“A certain somepony happened by,” she said cryptically, tossing a glance towards the outcrop in the distance. “And the rest is history. I’ll tell you more some other time. Ginger’s on the move.”

Zanza peered out over the landscape, spotting a thin column of dust rising. The pack was indeed on the move. Her heart skipped a beat.

“What do we do?”

“Right now? We’ve done our bit. If the signal comes, we light the fuse and I’ll fly you away. But in the meantime, we simply watch and wait.”

Zanza nodded. Her mohawk was prickling, standing out far straighter than usual. She kept having to trot in place or she’d fidget constantly.

Below, the plume of dust had reached the base. She could see the forms of the individual diamond dogs, each in their own distinctive apparel. The bright orange and yellow dot amongst them was Ginger Snap, leading the charge. The group streaked up the small rise to the great cleft in the side of the hill, pausing briefly, and then vanishing inside. The hill swallowed them up like a whale.

Zanza stepped away from the edge and paced about, unable to contain her anxiety. What was going on down there? Were her parents all right?

“Easy, kiddo,” said Daring. “Worrying never does anything but cause headaches.” She was easily reclining against a tree, her hooves behind her head. Her eyes were shut. For all the world, she could have been on vacation.

Zanza tried to relax. She really did. But the wild speculations of the goings-on down below proved too troublesome to shake off. She decided to take a closer look at the pinecone that’d been stuffed in the vent. It was a curious thing, dense and darkly colored. It almost looked like it was made of metal, and the edges that stuck out from the cone had an almost blade-like edge to them. Zanza poked it out of curiosity.

It wiggled, then vanished down the hole.

Zanza squeaked with surprise when it was replaced by something brown and furry that snaked out and latched onto her leg with a vicelike grip. She tried to wrench her way free, but the furry thing yanked her forward ‘till she teetered on the very edge of the pit.

“H-help!” she cried.

A dusky gold streak blurred her vision, and she felt the sickening sensation of falling. She twisted around, to see the world had gone black, save for a pinprick of light at the very top, where a horrified Daring Do was poised, having arrived a split second too late.

Something crunched into her head, and Zanza knew no more.

...Plink!

Zanza moaned, feeling herself slowly come to. Something wet splattered across her face. It tickled her nose, and she sneezed. Cold, miserable, and sore, Zanza staggered to her hooves and tried to figure out what exactly the buck just happened.

It was dark, wherever she was, and damp. She stumbled forward a few paces, only to bang her nose into something hard and metallic. She felt it out in the murky gloom. A grated surface, making up a wall. She reached out to the side, meeting solid rock.

Zanza hissed in despair when she realized where she was.

“A cage...”

Not so much a cage, more so a small, dead-end tunnel with a barred doorway. No matter what she called it, she was still trapped. Tears came to the filly’s eyes. In a wave of blind panic, she careened about her cell, slamming into the gate with as much force as her tiny form could muster. The bars wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard the sobbing zebra kicked them.

Exhausted from struggling for an unknown amount of time, she collapsed into a heap. She did not even have the strength left to cry. She felt spent, dried out, and utterly pitiful.

So much for being a grown-up, she thought. You’ve done it again, you stupid little foal. You’ll never see your family again. Zanza curled up into a ball and shivered. It wasn't just from the cold.

“And now for something completely random!”

Abruptly, the familiar figure of a pale alicorn in a colorful robe tumbled out of the ceiling and landed face-first onto the stone floor of the cell. Zanza scrambled backwards, getting out of the way of his flailing limbs.

Entropy giggled and fell still where he now lay on his back, staring at nothing. Zanza noted his eyes looked bloodshot.

“Heeeeeey,” he said. “Just thought I’d...drop in?” Mysteriously, a bad-dum, tsh! sound was heard, though the source of which Zanza could not identify. “Don’t worry, little lady, I’m here to rescue you. I think.”

Zanza sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. “Do you know what’s going on?” she pleaded.

“Yes. Of course. At the moment, we’re currently having tea with Mrs. Nezbit,” he replied. “Her arm keeps falling off, for some reason.” The alicorn cackled hysterically to himself. “Holy hell, I’m tripping. You know something? This place sucks. We should like, totally get out out of here.”

“How did I even end up in this cage?”

“Well, obviously, there’s more than just a dragon down here in the caves,” said Entropy as he picked himself up. “There’s a phrase about dragon’s lairs that is known amongst the bold and reckless.”

“What’s that?”

“‘The hoard will defend itself.’” Entropy turned and picked up a bench that was sitting by the wall and flipped it over, jamming the legs into the gaps between the metal grating. He pushed down on the raised end of the bench, and levered the entire door out and away with a single push. It crashed onto the stone hallway outside the cell with a mighty clang.

Zanza gaped at him. “H-how...did you...” She’d been hammering away at the thing for so long her hooves felt broken.

“Half-pin barrel hinges,” he replied seriously. “Oldest trick in the book. Now! We must flee, before they come to inspect the disturbance!”

“Who?”

“Why, whomever put you in here in the first place, my dear Watson.” Entropy’s horn alit and Zanza suddenly found herself being plopped unceremoniously across the alicorn’s back. He reared and swung his forelegs dramatically. “Hi ho, Silver, away!” He dropped back down. “Wait. You’re supposed to say that.”

“...”

“Well, go on, then.”

“Um, hi-ho, Silver...away?” she squeaked.

“THAT’S USIN’ YER DIPSTICK, JIMMY!”

With a bellowing war-cry, he began galloping full tilt down the hallway, Zanza clinging to his neck for dear life. The alicorn was thin and lanky, but he could move! Zanza had to squint from the wind.

The tunnels were built high and wide, lit regularly on the sides by gems embedded within wall-mounted sconces. The path they were hurtling downward splinted off at haphazard intervals, and the alicorn seemed to chose them at random, throwing them up, down, left and right into a different passage.

“Where are we going?” Zanza called over the rush of wind.

“We’re off to see the wizard!” Entropy yelled back.

“...Who?”

“Why, the wonderful wizard of Oz!”

With that, he lowered his horn and charged straight at a wall, and a pale light surrounded them at the last possible moment. Zanza covered her face with a hoof and screamed, waiting for the impact.

It never came.

She opened her eyes. They had somehow passed straight through the solid rock, emerging out onto the other side. They were now galloping hard across an enormous chamber that had a wide stone spire rising from the center, taller than the ironwoods in the forest, crested by a flattened top that was so high, Zanza could not make out what lay on top. A spiraling path snaked its way up the summit. She spied movement on this, a cluster of dots that looked a lot like...

“There they are!” she cried, pointed towards the rise.

Whoosh!

The alicorn’s mighty wings opened mid-stride and whipped down, catapulting them into the air with such acceleration it took her breath away. "ShadowClone Jutsu!" he cried. There was a loud popping noise, and twin clouds of smoke suddenly materialized on either side of his wings.

“Chhhk. This is Papa Smurf to squadron, come in, over,” said Entropy.

A flickering duplicate image of the alicorn emerged from the smoke beside them. “Chhhk. Smurf-2, reading you loud and clear, over.” Unbelievably, there was a shimmering zebra on his back, clinging desperately around his neck.

“Smurf-3. Chhhk. All systems go, let’s bag us some bogies, over,” said yet another apparition, complete with zebra rider.

“What?!” shrieked Zanza.

The back of Entropy’s head suddenly transformed into a panel, upon which a targeting system flickered to life. Through it, Zanza could see the figures upon the path, centered through the crosshairs.

“Whatever you do...press the red button!” cried Entropy.

Zanza blinked.

“Could you please explain to me what exactly the buck is going on, Mister Entropy?” she screamed. She doubted her brain would be able to last much longer with him around.

The alicorn huffed. “If you must know, our furry little friends are getting close to the actual hoard, but have run into a little snag. The dragon has a plethora of thralls in its service, just like all the others, and they aren't exactly happy about us stealing their master’s swag.”

Zanza gasped. “My parents would be among those slaves!”

“No, a dragon would keep them with the actual hoard until they tired of their newest plaything. What currently plagues us is brainwashed property of a kleptomaniacal fire-breathing tyrant lizard. Now, if you don’t mind, this is the part where I swoop into the rescue with guns blazing. So please, if you don't mind?”

Zanza peered through the panel again. She could make out the individual Cinderwings, holding a tight formation as they forced their way up the path against a tide of bodies. The dragon’s thralls; slaves.

She spied creatures of all kinds among the tangle of fighting. Ponies, diamond dogs, gryphons, minotaurs, donkeys, even a few zebras. Zanza lingered on those the longest, but none were familiar in the slightest.

Where were her parents?

And, more importantly, where was the dragon?

Entropy pumped hard and rocketed into the space of the cavern, flanked on either side by his flickering shades. They wheeled around the other side of the massive pillar.

“Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em how we do it in the old school, over,” said Entropy. “Fangs out!”

The phantasmic zebras riding alongside pressed a hoof into the back of the head of their alicorn. Zanza hesitated for a split second, then followed suit.

Entropy’s horn suddenly crackled to life, sparking with power. The crosshairs turned a bright red as they wheeled around and streaked towards the path on the side of the pillar.

Zanza slammed her free hoof down on the big red button.

A rapid, roaring crash was heard as a screaming barrage of magical bolts erupted out of Entropy's horn and down into the fray, the two wing-ponies on either side mimicking him. Zanza looked over the side as they passed by, to see the Cinderwings look up at them in disbelief, before plunging back into battle with renewed heart.

They whizzed overhead, and came about for another strafing run. Zanza pressed the button again, sending another stream of bolts down onto the battle. The shades opened up alongside, and a score of thralls were blasted right off their feet.

Something whipped by her head and struck the apparition to her left. With a sound like metal grinding metal, it vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Incoming fire! Evasive maneuvers, over!” cried Smurf-2. Sure enough, on the path, several of the thralls farther away from the fight had produced a plethora of slings, and were flinging a hail of small stones at them.

Zanza’s heart lurched into her stomach when Entropy abruptly carved into a tight, spiraling rise, powering them higher and higher above the battle. At the apex of the climb, Zanza hung upside down from his neck. Everything was inverted for those briefest of seconds as they hung weightless, and the alicorn plummeted down into a vertical power-dive.

They were coming down directly on top of the sling throwers, who had spotted them and were trying their damnedest to shoot them down. Zanza screamed as a rock the size of her hoof grazed her cheek. She desperately mashed the red button. They rained a ferocious storm of magical blasts straight onto the throwers, who could barely return fire as they were thrown about by the impacts and resulting detonations.

However, they must have gotten lucky, as two of their projectiles cannoned into Entropy, who gave a screech as he tumbled mid-flight, rider clinging on for dear life. Zanza shut her eyes, the last image she saw the sight of the ground rushing up to meet them.

Wha-boom!

The sickening sound of the alicorn’s body crashing into the stone path caused a small lull in the battle.

Zanza peeked her eyes open, to once again find herself wrapped in a pair of dusky gold forelegs.

“Kiddo, I’m beginning to think this is going to be a regular thing of ours,” said Daring Do with a roguish smile.

“Daring!” Zanza cried. “What happened? I remember getting pulled into this hole, and then-”

Daring shook her head. “Not now, we’ve got a bit of a situation on our hooves. I can’t fly around with you for long, so we’re touching down behind the line we’re holding. You’ve missed quite a lot, kiddo. After you got taken, I went in after you. Whatever took you gave me the slip, and somehow ended up running into the pack.”

The pegasus set her down in the middle of the path, which was big enough for five diamond dogs to walk abreast. One side was flanked by the pillar itself, and the other opened to the sickening drop below them.

Ahead, the Cinderwings were pressed into a tight formation, four across, each holding a slab of metal that must have been ripped from somewhere like shields in front of them. Old Yeller and Lassie stood behind them, striking over the shield barricade with spear and arrow. Ginger Snap stood a bit further back, her horn aglow with a fierce light as she ripped chunks of stone down upon the thralls from the wall or lobbed balls of fire over the heads of her pack.

Daring’s hooves rested on her shoulders, the pegasus looking her in the eye. “Stay here, and for the love of Celestia, please don’t disappear on me like that again. Okay?” With that, she spun and hurled herself over the edge, wings snapping outward to send her flying into the air.

“Got it,” mumbled Zanza, still disorientated by the wild flight. A nearby boulder had detached itself from the pillar, and she scrambled behind it to watch the fight out of harm’s way.

It was a brutal affair, to say the least. The thralls, a mix of many races and breeds, fought like a mob. There had to be a hundred of them, at the least! They clearly weren't used to fighting in close quarters against a disciplined foe, and wave after wave of them broke against the Cinderwing’s shield wall, led by Echo, which slowly, but steadily, advanced up the path.

Lassie, the long-haired female diamond dog, was wreaking havoc with her longbow, nocking, drawing, and letting a shaft fly in an almost continuous cycle. The arrows landed seemingly wherever she wanted, though it wasn't hard to hit a target when they were so bunched up. She mainly focused on picking off the ones near the back, who had been hurling stones from their slings over the shields. Daring Do came down like a bolt of thunder and smashed the survivors into the ground.

Old Yeller held fast right behind the shield wall, a spear in each paw, jabbing and slashing with an almost practiced ease. None who came within his reach escaped without injury, and despite the elderly diamond dog’s age, he was holding up nicely.

A mighty rumble was heard as Ginger Snap caused a large section of pathway up ahead to rip away and tilt, causing almost two dozen thralls to slide across the surface and plummet screaming over the edge and into the void.

Unbelievably, they continued to press forward, nine against ninety, and with an uphill fight at that. Zanza soon had to break cover and edge along the wall, following them up as the Cinderwings pushed the dragon’s thralls further and further up the path. A trail of carnage was left in their wake, broken bodies and blood. Zanza tried not to look at it. She was no stranger to gore - the constant warfare between the zebra tribes on the Zavannah was one of the reasons her family had left in the first place - but she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that one of the corpses would be her mother or father.

As she gingerly picked her way through the carnage, she felt a sharp yank on her tail. She squeaked and tumbled over, finding herself face to face an earth pony, wearing filthy rags and an iron collar around his neck, the outfit of all of the dragon’s slaves. An enormous arrow was struck deep between his shoulder and neck, and bleeding profusely onto the rock path upon which he lay.

“H-help us,” he croaked. His eyes were bright with pain.

“I. I don’t know...” Zanza managed, scrambling away from the mortally wounded stallion. “Who are you?”

“I am Twenty.” He coughed. “You aren’t Hers yet. You can help.”

“Hers?”

His hoof reached out and seized her, pulling her face to face. Zanza grimaced. He smelled like he hadn’t cleaned himself in weeks. “She owns us, body and soul. You are free! You can help...the others...” He rolled onto his back and pointed up to the top of the pillar, so high it disappeared into the darkness of the hollowed-out hill. “There. She sleeps...do it then.”

Zanza flinched away from him. “What?”

“Set us free...” He sucked in a breath, and was clearly pained by the action. Zanza watched in horror as he jerked --once, twice-- and fell still. His eyes glazed over. The hoof holding her close relaxed and fell onto the ground.

Something grabbed her around her barrel and lifted. She smelled fresh-cut wood and turned earth, and felt the soft fabric of spidersilk rest against her stomach.

“I am so sorry,” said Echo, as he strode up the winding path with the little zebra riding on his back. “You should not have had to be here, little one.” The soft sound of his padded paws on the stone seemed to carry a sense of finality. “You should not have had to seen him die. We have pushed his fellows into a retreat to the top of the spire. No more will be killed if they do not resist.”

“W-why?” Zanza said softly. “What is the reason for all this?”

“I know that you were in a cell for some time, yes? You missed much. But you must understand that here, we are the invaders, the burglars. The dragon who lives here does not want us in its home. So it sends its property to protect its property. The slaves who have been hindering us since we entered the caves, they are merely possessions, extensions of the dragon’s hoard. They have no will, no life other than this. They obey their master because it is what they are. If we want to get reach our goals, we have to fight them.”

“The hoard defends itself...” Zanza murmured. “Entropy said tha-” she stopped. “Entropy! I saw him crash! Is he alright?”

“He's fine, though weakened, resting with us up ahead. He was pulling himself off the path when we pushed over the crater he made. He had a 1-Up Mushroom on him.”

“What’s a 1-Up Mush-”

“You don’t want to know.”

She took his word for it. There were some things about the enigmatic hybrid that she felt she would be better off in ignorance of. Zanza fell into a brooding silence. Everything just felt so...blank. The past few hours had been a complete whirlwind of mayhem and uncertainty.

“Are you alright?” Echo asked her. “I sense that you've been through quite a lot.”

“I...” Zanza began, then thought better of it. “I just want to find my Mamma and Poppa,” she sniffled, “wherever they are in this stupid place.”

“If they are in the dragon’s clutches, we will find them at the top, at the actual hoard.” Echo rounded the corner. There, the other Cinderwings were gathered about the path, treating the wounds they’d acquired and seeing after their arms and armor.

“I am sorry,” he said again, “that we have to do so much evil to be good in the end. It shouldn't be like this. Not here. We have to do better.”

Zanza slid off his back and landed on unsteady hooves.

"Zanza. I want you to know that you are not a burden to us. You are a very special zebra, even if you don't believe that. If...if this search is in vain, you are more that welcome to stay with Daring and I until we make good on our word."

"Thank you, Mister Echo," Zanza softly replied. Despite herself, she fleetingly imagined what that would be like. It didn't really seem that bad at all, based on the past few days.

It didn't really seem that bad at all...

She followed the diamond dog over to the pack and sat down on a boulder. Something poked her on the flank. She almost jumped out of her skin before she looked down to see a bandaged alicorn lying next to the rock.

“Entropy?” she gasped.

“You know how they say to do a barrel roll?” the alicorn said softly. He was covered in scrapes and bruises, and those only the parts of him not wrapped in bloodstained gauze. “Well, don’t. Shoulda used the U-turn. Damn inverted controls.”

“Are...you alright?” Zanza asked him.

“I had an extra quarter, so I got to continue,” he groaned. “I think I've only got enough left in me for one last hurrah, though. Great galloping gadzooks, I’m getting too old for this shit.”

“Hey, that’s Daring’s line,” said Ginger Snap as she approached them. “You doing ok?”

“Been better,” Entropy grumbled.

“Wasn’t asking you,” she shot at him, then looked expectantly at Zanza.

“Um...I’m fine,” she murmured, nervous under the unicorn's scrutiny.

Ginger ran a hoof through her mane. “Oh, so, ok. That’s good.”

Daring Do trotted up next to her. “Look, Ginger, if you can’t do it, I will.”

“Fine, fine! Zanza, your parents were important figures in your tribe, correct?”

Zanza nodded. “Yes. My father was the most senior warrior, and my mother was the village shaman.”

“A shaman. Right. So, it’s safe to assume that you may have learned a thing or two from her?”

“Yes. I was...next in line.” Zanza slumped a bit. Memories came to her mind, of golden afternoons in the medicine hut with her mother, learning the many uses of the savannah herbs, laughing and talking until sundown, when her father would come home with the rest of the tribe after a day spent grazing.

“Then I...we need your help,” Ginger finally managed. She looked pained to even suggest that her pack was incapable of taking care of itself. “Yeller got hit with something nasty. Daring thinks it might be poison. We need everypony up before we even think about pressing for the top.”

“Usually, I’d handle something like this, but I’m really only experienced with first aid and quick fixes,” Daring explained.

Zanza slowly stepped down off the boulder. “I’ll try my best,” she solemnly said. The two mares exchanged a glance and led her away to to where the others were gathered on the path.

“Good luck!” Entropy called after them. Zanza was struck by the fact that it was the first straightforward thing he had said since she’d first met him.

Ginger parted the other packmembers when they reached the group. Zanza followed close behind. Most of them gave her a respectful dip of the head or a flick of the ear. That’s new, Zanza thought to herself.

Old Yeller was slumped against the rock wall, breathing heavily. On his arm was a filthy wound, covered in grime and gore.

Zanza gave the gash a cursory sniff. She winced away. “There’s an infection setting in. But...he only got the actual wound not too long ago, right?”

“No. He was the first one injured, when we first entered the cave. It was a another diamond dog that did this, a slave. His claws were filthy and jagged, just like the others,” Ginger growled. “It’s a disgrace, how this dragon treats its possessions.”

Zanza examined the aging diamond dog. Aside from the savaged arm, he only had a few other minor scrapes and bumps. She frowned. If he was succumbing to infection this quickly, then it must be a very nasty one.

“Do we have any medical supplies?” she asked curtly. Her confidence was rising fast. Finally, something she knew about. This she could do. Now who was the helpless filly?

“Yep, right here,” Daring said, slinging her saddlebags off. They hit the floor with an impossibly heavy noise. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it out.”

Zanza gave the infected wound another close look, ignoring the repulsive stench it was emanating. “Water. Nightshade. Mirkwort. Tongue of Lupus. Gauze. And...catspaw.”

Daring Do literally burrowed into her saddlebag, a feat that should not have been physically possible, and then she tumbled back out with a bunch of packets of herbs and a jug of water.

“What?” she said, at the looks Ginger and Zanza were giving her. “Usually it’s a lot more cramped in there, but most of my explosives are set to go at the moment.”

“Right...” said Zanza, quickly washing out Old Yeller’s wound with the water. The diamond dog hissed at this, but held his tongue. Zanza crushed up the nightshade, mirkwort, and catspaw, before cramming the stomped-up leaves into her mouth and chewing voraciously.

“What are you-?” Ginger began, before the zebra spat the whole gob out right into the wound and pressed it into the the gap with a hoof. Curdles of red steam began to wisp out from behind it, and an audible sizzling noise was heard. After a moment of this, Zanza quickly scooped up the nightshade leaves and layed these onto the injury. She then wrapped the whole thing up in gauze and gave it a pat to ensure it would hold.

“Done!” she proudly declared, turning to face the ponies. She stopped and stared at the astonished assembly of diamond dogs who had gathered around her while she worked. “I mean...um...”

Old Yeller flexed his arm, giving it a sniff.

“She’s good,” he finally grunted.

“Really good,” Daring added. Beside her, Echo grinned underneath his hood.

“Zanza...that was amazing.” Ginger was looking at her with renewed interest. And, the zebra noted, a hint of respect. The little filly swelled with pride. “Yeller, you think you can carry on?”

“I manage. But...side will be weaker,” Old Yeller stood up to his full height at and moved the arm around.

“Can we use same formation now?” Lassie wondered.

“No,” said Ginger. “We need to do something...unexpected. They will be waiting for us to storm the hoard. And, if the dragon is at the top, we will have to contend with that, as well.”

Daring Do grinned. “Unexpected, you say? I have an idea.”

Beside her, Echo suddenly looked nervous.

Achievement Unlocked! - "Riding the Crazy Train"

Level Up! - Zanza

Skill Unlocked!- Witch Doctor: (+10 to all healing, increased knowledge of medical arts) The teachings of Mother come back to you, and you begin to walk the blessed path of a shaman.

Perks unlocked! -

-Fine Line Between Sane and Insane: (+4 intellect) Your constant exposure to Disarray and Entropy have left you better equipped to handle their constant output of insanity. Your mind is now better protected, and less likely to shut down in the event of something random.

Location Discovered! - The Dragon's Tooth

[II - Prologue] "Don't make me regret this, Disarray..."

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PART THE SECOND, PROLOGUE

In which there are... wait, who are you? What are you, put that down! Help! Hel -- ACK!

In which the Narrator is sacked and temporarily replaced by me. Yes, hello to you too. I can see you all out there, hunched over your screens, reading my words with the obsessed zeal of a drug fiend with his cocaine.

Weirdos.

It's been quite a while, hasn't it? I think that's why He let me stop by and sit a spell. It does get rather dull, floating aimlessly around in the bowels of the internet. It's nice to have an outlet again. So, how have you been? Actually, don't answer that, I don't really care....

I'll talk about myself; mostly because I enjoy tooting my own horn and I get the idea you enjoy tooting my horn as well. Things have been very strange here in the story as of late. Just because He's too lazy to show you all what's happening doesn't mean nothing is happening. Does the light go off in the refrigerator when you close it? Of course not! How else would the little fridge gnomes survive?

Honestly. Fridge gnomes. They sprinkle freshening powder on your vegetables to keep them from spoiling.

What? You think I'm lying!? MOI!?

How absurd. Go and boil your heads.

A large hand comes down from the heavens and smacks the Narrator upside the head. Get to the point, you overgrown plot device.

OW! HEY! All right, all right, I'm getting to it. Don't be such a sour-puss. I think I'm forgetting... oh, right! The job I was supposed to be doing. Ahem.

Introducing... the Second Act. His story has been divided into several part, each Act covering different and similar characters. You might be surprised as to whom we observe! Anypony is fair game, after all. Especially when He's at the helm of this doomed ship.

Now, where were we? Ah, yes.

Act Two of the Legend:

...In which friends are forever, a fallen god rises again, and I continue being sexy...

[II - First] Upon the Business of Resurrection

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ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE FIRST

In which a game begins, the world rides to a red dawn, and a Fellowship is forged to save it.

The Ambassador

Those eyes.

Like two chips of the sky had been sliced away and given the spark of life, they glittered harshly in the half-light of the prison, tinged with the sadness of age and the terrible experience it brings.

There were no words spoken, but Lyra felt as though an immeasurable conversation suddenly shunted her thoughts away, a steady stream of knowing and being, an unknown identity that roared forth from those eyes which all but overwhelmed her.

She could not look away.

...Did she even want to?

The tide abruptly shifted, seizing hold of her consciousness and wrenching it out and away. She felt herself clawing desperately, instinctively clutching for a hold within the tumultuous storm her mind had become, terrified of what would happen should the alien presence drag her with it.

Let go.

The suggestion came unbidden — was it even hers? — and gently swaddled her.

Face the unknown.

It pulled her, not with the harsh strength of the other being, but slightly, coaxing and cooing all the while. It felt... nice.

Know who I am.

Lyra let go, before she came to her senses. There was the sensation of falling, something wrapping itself around her on all sides, and then a mighty gnawing in her gut that took a moment to register as —

— Hunger.

Maddening, clawing at her blood. Some savage little creature was in her stomach, tearing her apart from the insides, slipping into her skin and forcing her bones to follow the lead.

She all but glided across the frozen land.

Her wide paws padded softly through the white blanket. The dense snow pack refused to cling, as if she were a fang slicing through the landscape. Scattered about the flat, white world, conical trees bowed their branches to the old gods of the North; ice, sleet, wind, and snow.

Sky-light had risen. The snow hurt to look at now. Pupils shrank until they were as thin as blades. Ears twitched in the wind, the cold air ruffling her fur. Six paws gripped and scraped at the hard pack ice.

Some snow had been disturbed at the base of a tree. She sniffed at this, growling softly as the tide of prey-scent flooded her. Something had hunkered down here for the night, in hopes of escaping the old gods’ wrath. She could almost taste the sudden fantasies of tearing flesh and sucking the marrow from bones.

Another scent pricked at the air. An ear flicked in distaste. There was another hunter, close by; a male. Not that he wouldn’t be any trouble. She lifted a leg and sprayed the tree, marking the prey-scent as her own. He would not dare tempt her, for good reason.

She preferred to live alone, something the others held her both in fear and awe for. To them she was legend, she was the White Whisper, and she was as eternal as the sky-lights that walked the place of stars from horizon to horizon.

So she was. If she could count, she had seen three-hundred and seventy-six clans come and go, burying their sires and being buried by their kits. There was no reason to question her longevity, for that was not the way of her kind. Long ago had she realized that time would fail to take her. She had adapted. Such was the way of the hunter.

Hunger, however...

Hunger was a different matter.

Hovering her slim snout over the snow, she inhaled again.

A sudden puff of snow, and she was off, her hunting yowl echoing across the tundra.

The scent was fresh, the prey was not far. From that small sampling, she knew it was a female, old and sick and likely far from others of its kind, a last measure of protection for its kin to spare them the attention of hunters — hunters like her.

She had never stopped admiring the selflessness of her prey, nor despairing the constant bickering of her fellow hunters.

So she hunted alone. That was fine.

Dashing headlong through the frozen world she went, leaping embankments, scrambling down icy gullies, or even simply charging straight through mounds of snow light enough to carry through.

Her keen eyes soon confirmed what her nose already knew.

Tracks appeared across her path, small and delicate. She rapidly changed course, not slowing for an instant. The pattern was off — her prey was limping, likely from age.

The prints soon led her to the foot of the Rise, the place her fellow hunters scorned, for atop the plateau the winds blew strong and cruelly. She knew no such fear, tempered by an unnatural number of seasons in her still-youthful bones.

She found it halfway up the slope, still struggling gamely on, despite wasting away its energy by floundering so far. She slowed, padding forward at a crouch. Her paws clenched the snow, claws extended.

Her prey sensed the coming, and redoubled its efforts, floundering mightily through the thick powder in a last, frantic burst of energy.

It was not enough.

A single strike to the head stunned it. It fell, twitching. She bent low over it, staring intently into its gaze, thanking it for the nourishment it would provide and the challenge of the hunt.

It stared back, fearful at first, before peace came.

It relaxed, fate accepted. Predator and prey.

She made it quick and painless, her teeth meeting in its neck and crunching through bone and tendon alike. The salty taste of fresh-kill seeped into her jaws.

Winter roared judgement in her ears.

"MIZZ HEARTSTRINGS —”

“ — is there somethin’ on yer mind? Been a mite distracted since we came back from the Vault.”

Lyra blinked. “Hmm? Oh, no, I’m fine, Knight-Commander. Thank you for asking. I’ve just had the strangest feeling like I was... somewhere else not a moment ago.”

The eyes opened... then... we were... wait, how did I get here?

Lyra looked around.

Tiny motes of dust floated in the evening breeze, caught in the fading sunset that shone through the window of Luna’s chambers. The Princess herself was out on the balcony, while her sister assisted her from the perch of her own tower. While one lowered the sun to end the day, the other raised the moon and ushered in the night.

Curled into a tight ball on a nearby cushion was the Elder Sage, called Ragdoll. Only the stillest of movements revealed that she breathed.

Lyra eyed the new arrival somewhat uneasily. “Is she...?” she trailed off, unable to finds the proper words to the proper question.

Starbuck tried anyway. “Luna say’s the little lady will be right as rain. Managed the walk up here just fine, fer somepony ‘been still as a statue since before I was sired.”

“Oh.”

The Sage had not yet uttered a single word, and had instead collapsed onto the rug by the fire in the hearth, staring intently into the flames with blank eyes.

“What happened in...” Lyra began quietly, then thought better of it.

Starbuck simply shrugged, his armored bulk rasping faintly as his barding flexed with his body.

The other two Outlanders had been placed gently onto the Princess’ bed, still frozen in time. The spell had preserved them in the instant of the casting, and so they had no pulse or breath, still as statutes unless disturbed. For now, they would stay there.

But in the meantime...

A change of the ambient light through the windows told them that Luna had accomplished her nightly ritual. The alicorn glided back inside from the balcony. Lyra caught her eyes and gestured toward the motionless pony by the hearth, an unspoken question on her face.

Luna merely frowned and sat next to the mare. There was silence for a few moments, everything absolutely still save for the crackling of the fire.

Then:

“A POX UPON THIS BROODING!”

Luna suddenly flipped Ragdoll end over end with an abrupt extension of the wing, the mare tumbling onto a table face-up, where she lay dazedly, before giving a low groan.

“Ach…”

Lyra exchanged a glance with Starbuck. The knight seemed perfectly at ease. Lyra resigned to letting the Princess continue.

Luna stomped over and shoved her face into Ragdoll’s upside-down visage. “Forsooth, we hath freed thee after millenia of wrongful imprisonment!” She snorted imperiously. “The least thine might begrudge is a word of thanks!”

There was a pause, and then she blinked. Intelligence seemed to flood back into her eyes. Ragdoll rolled off the table and landed neatly onto her hooves, barely making a single noise.

“Nightma-... Luna... Printessa?” she rasped.

Luna’s stern gaze broke into a warm smile. “Aye, my friend. I have returned. The nightmare is long passed.” She draped her neck across Ragdoll’s shoulders. “It has been a long, long time.”

Ragdoll trembled for a moment, then returned the gesture, almost frantically burying her face into Luna’s ethereal mane as she wept openly.

Luna murmured softly as she stroked the crying mare. “Oh, my friend, my dearest friend, what a wrong hast been done to you...”

“We were following orders!” came a muffled wail. “Your orders! And...they... no exceptions. Celestia threw everything at us... They bring down whole castle.”

Luna was silent for a moment. “A whole castle? What couldst thou have been doing to earn such wrath from my sister?”

Ragdoll pulled her head out of Luna’s starry locks. “You... don’t know?”

“We remember little from then, descended into depravity as we were.” Luna sighed. “We were monstrous and unthinking. We were Nightmare Moon. All thoughts of the time are red and steeped in rage. But fear not, for we have gained ourselves and become all the stronger for it.”

The mare swallowed thickly, choking back her sobs. “We were... after it. The Fount.”

Luna sucked in a breath at that, and her mane fell utterly still, like a wild animal caught in the headlights. “Why,” she spoke softly, yet colder than dry ice, “wouldst thou ever presume to desecrate the most holy of places.”

Lyra stepped forward. “Your Highness, maybe this isn’t the best way to-”

“DO NOT DARE TO SPEAK OUT OF TURN, AMBASSADOR!” Luna roared. Her eyes were shining white-hot, to the point of it being painful just to look at. Lyra cringed backwards, immediately regretting her actions. The Princess was furious. She rounded on the still-sobbing mare. “Why?” she hissed.

“Because you told them to, Luna,” a voice softly announced.

Everypony whirled about to find Princess Celestia standing half-in, half-out of the doorway. Beside her stood the lanky figure of Disarray, who looked awkward and uncomfortable.

“In your madness, Luna, you sought the one thing that you knew would guarantee the rise of Nightmare Moon. You sent them, your dearest friends, to deliver it to you, while you thought to dispose of me in the the ruins of the Evermore Castle. But I stopped you, with the very Elements we once wielded together... and I had to stop them, as well. Because they loved you, Luna, and they would follow your orders even if it meant taking the waters of the Fount for themselves.”

Luna staggered if visibly struck, sinking onto the floor beside Ragdoll. “...Such madness,” she whispered. “Was I truly that desperate, sister?”

Celestia hesitated, then nodded. “We both were. Had I not the power of Harmony on my side, I may have attempted the very same. The fate of the world was in the balance.”

Luna sighed. “...Then a terrible, terrible mistake was made, and I am even more justified in trying to right it. I did an unforgivable thing to my friends, and abandoned them to their fate.” Luna shook her head. “I apologize for my tone, Ambassador.” Celestia crossed over to her and comfortingly laid her head across her sister’s neck. Ragdoll scooted away, almost fearful of the other Princess.

“Beggin’ yer pardon,” the deep voice of Knight-Commander Starbuck broke in, “but what’s the Fount?”

“It’s the Source,” stated Disarray, clasping his mismatched limbs behind his back.

“The source?” echoed Lyra.

“No, the Source. You’re not doing it right, use a capital letter,” he grumbled. “It’s the reason Mom and Auntie are what they are today.” Lyra and the Knight-Commander took another look at the two Princesses.

“Royalty?” Lyra guessed.

“Alicorns?” put in Starbuck.

Disarray closed his eyes, in seeming contemplation. “No. Those are commonplace, nowadays.... It made them Goddesses.”

Lyra’s eyes widened. There had always been much speculation as to the origins of the sisters. Everypony knew that they were powerful, evidenced by their control of the sun and the moon. But before they appeared in the world, that duty was performed by the old Platinum dynasty of unicorns from the far north, an offshoot from the long-since vanished Crystal Empire.

But after the great migration of ponykind to escape from the windigoes, they had encountered the sisters here, in Equestria, struggling to preserve the natural order of things against the actions of Discord, a chaos entity wreaking havoc across the countryside. The ponies knew that they couldn’t settle here with Discord running loose, so for the first time in history, the three tribes; pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies, were united together under one banner -- that of Celestia and Luna.

Nopony had wondered where they had come from, they hadn’t cared at the time. All they’d known is that if they wanted any chance of a new home, then they had to ally with the beings capable of carving one out of the earth itself.

An alliance of convenience, forged in desperation and tempered with skepticism. Under different circumstances, such a gathering would collapse under the conflicting idealisms. But when your rulers can behead a mountain, drain oceans dry, and cast light and darkness throughout the world, many a petty squabble is forgotten.

“Castle Everfree — known to the world as the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters — was the last holding to fall still loyal to Nightmare Moon,” explained Celestia. “The battle was terrible, even though she had fallen weeks prior. Her three lieutenants, one of which stands before us, upheld their oath until they were the only ones left, barricaded within the tallest tower, even as it crumbled away beneath their hooves. What was once our home was reduced to rubble, and the Fount beneath it now lays buried in debris and time.”

Ragdoll seemed to shrink within herself, incapable of looking at anything else but the floor.

Lyra really felt for the poor mare.

Celestia merely blinked, and said, “Fear not, Sage. The profane magics binding yourself to Nightmare Moon have long since evaporated. The actions you and your siblings undertook while enslaved to her will, while horrible, are long past.”

Her expression suddenly darkened. Lyra could have sworn she felt the temperature drop just a bit. “However. The damage was done, nevertheless. You and your kin submitted to such slavery of your own accord. I can never forgive you for this. If I have but the slightest of reasons you will pursue this path again, none of you will have the chance to regret your choice. Am I understood?”

“Y-yes, Printessa,” said the strange mare. It was all but a whisper.

“Good.” Princess Celestia retreated several steps, to sit delicately down upon a cushion. “Then we arrive to the true purpose of your resurrection.”

“Sister...” Luna warned.

“No, Luna. They deserve the knowledge. Let it not be said that we enjoyed our secrets too much.”

The two engaged in a sort of silent staring contest, both alicorns egging the other to back down. The air in the room seemed to thicken and hum with a hidden energy. There must have been some sharp steel to Celestia’s gaze, because she cut her sister down after only a minute, the smaller sibling huffing and glancing away.

The ivory alicorn merely summoned a cup of tea with a thought, and began to sip.

“You must understand, Ambassador, that the Fount is the emergence point for all magic within the world,” she eventually stated. “Chaos. Harmony. Light. Darkness. Hate. Love. All are potent forces that physically manifest themselves within the bones of the earth and the life of the creatures that walk it. There are very, very few who can even fathom the power it contains. Fewer still who could utilize it. It is, as my son said, the birthplace of gods and goddesses."

She took another sip of tea, before calming stating:

“And in three month’s time, it will implode upon itself and destroy us all.”

There was a stunned silence.

“Wow, and I thought Aunt Luna was the blunt one,” quipped Disarray.

“But... what!? That’s... that’s just...” Lyra struggled with the words. “I don’t even — no, how is that even possible, first of all.”

“‘Tis a matter of balance,” Luna chimed in. “All the magics must be equal in standing. And they were... until recently. The re-emergence of the Elements of Harmony. Our niece, Cadance, harnessing the love within the Crystal Heart. The ascension of our friend Twilight Sparkle. The have all become conduits of peace and righteousness in the world.”

“Isn’t... that a good thing?” asked Lyra.

“Yes. But the natural order of things has been disrupted.” Celestia took another sip of her tea. “As much as it pains me to admit, there must always be some level of evil in the world. The gains of harmony, love, and light must be tempered by chaos, hate, and darkness. Our intent is to regain this critical balance by attuning new sources of such magics to the Fount, preventing a magical cataclysm. Then, they will be sealed away, thus stabilizing the Fount, but keeping their powers from leaving it.

“Think of the Source as a tree, Ambassador, greater than all others, it’s leaves touching the stars and its roots wedded to the bones of the earth. The core pillars of magic make up these roots. Let them erode, and the tree will fall.”

Knight Commander Starbuck removed the stetson from his head, scratching at one of his tufted ears. “So what does Mizz Ragdoll here and th' others on th' bed have to do with this?”

Luna awkwardly coughed. “They hold the Nightmare’s Blessing. An infusion of ourselves... as Nightmare Moon... lives on within them. When we were defeated, and the fel magic expelled... it had to go somewhere. Together, they represent the sole remaining source of true darkness in Equestria. We shall take them to the Fount... synchronize the magic... and then... we will part ways for a final time.”

At Lyra’s shocked expression, a voice broke in. “Equestria has been good to us, Lyra Heartstrings,” Ragdoll said quietly. “We redeem ourselves with this last act. We are travelers of cosmos. When we are attuned, we will leave through ways known only to those like us who travel the stars. We know to stay here cannot be permanent.”

Luna wrapped the mare in a wing, drawing her close. “Aye, my old friend. To say goodbye, again, after all these years...”

Celestia continued explaining for her. “When something is attuned to the Fount, it will never lose that connection, no matter where it may be. They can go back to the stars from whence they came, effectively cementing the gains of dark magic without exposing Equestria itself to the repercussions.”

“It is for the best,” Ragdoll whispered.

“Alright... alright.” Lyra breathed deeply, trying to wrap her mind around all of this. “What of the others? You said hate and chaos magic were part of this as well.”

“As of this moment, we are still searching for a source of hatred powerful enough to serve as a proper conduit.” Celestia’s gaze traveled out the window. “While King Sombra was a terrible threat to the world and the ponies of the Crystal Empire, he held a far more important role than he would ever know. As for the power of chaos...”

There came a knocking at the door.

Tap tap tap-tap tap.

Disarray suddenly went stiff as a board, eyes widening. He turned to Celestia. “I don’t believe it. You said he was nowhere near here! You told me.”

“Did I?” she said, suddenly looking mischievous. “I seem to recall saying a lot of things about what he does, though he seems to have a knack for doing exactly the opposite of them, just to laugh about it.”

Knight-Commander Starbuck cautiously approached the door. “Yes? Who is it?” he asked sternly.

“That’s not right. You have to answer it right,” came a muffled voice from behind the door.

Celestia rose and smoothly joined the bat pony. “Allow me,” she said.

“Surprise character reveal, take two!” came the voice.

Tap tap tap-tap tap.

The Princess calmly raised a hoof to the door.

Tap tap.

It was abruptly blown off its hinges... backwards, landing in the now-exposed hallway with a crash.

Lyra peered through the gap, trying to see who had been standing there. “Who was that?” she asked aloud.

“Beats me,” said Discord. “He wasn’t offering any free candy or van rides, though. Shame. I would have answered that door in a heartbeat.”

“AAAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!” screamed Lyra.

“Pops,” growled Disarray. “Enjoy your time in prison?”

“Immensely. Its a lot more forgiving to drop the soap when you’re the only inmate,” said Discord, casually polishing a claw on his feathered breast.

Lyra stumbled away, her wide eyes taking it all in. The Lord of Chaos himself. She’d heard rumors, to be sure. Bon-Bon had said that she’d seen it happen herself, several weeks ago in Ponyville. The Element of Kindness, Fluttershy, had befriended the draconequus and managed to convince him to pursue a more noble path. It had been quite the spectacle, apparently, almost impossible to believe.

But then, Lyra had always been something of a believer.

Now, though, with the beast himself standing eight feet tall in front of her, nonchalantly snapping his fingers as Celestia’s tea turned into hot sauce, she had to admit it was... not what she expected.

He noticed Lyra staring at him. “What?” he asked. “Somthing in my teeth?” His lion’s paw felt around in his mouth, then somehow went even further, until he was elbow deep inside his throat. The chaos entity seemed to find something, and with a thoughtful hum, withdrew a rubber chicken. “Huh. I’d been wondering where that went.” He casually tossed it over a shoulder, where it wetly slapped to the floor by Disarray’s mismatched feet. The smaller draconequus eyed this, his lip curling up in mild distaste, before taking a large step backwards.

Discord bowed deeply, prostrating himself before Lyra. “Discord, Lord of Chaos, Emperor of Explosions, and the Titan of Terrible Titles, at your service. And you are, little pony?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “Wait. I think I know you from somewhere, you were probably skulking around in the background. Stringy? Harpo?”

“L-lyra,” she said, then again, with perhaps a bit more bite than she intended. “Lyra Heartstrings. Ambassador Lyra Heartstrings.”

“Ooooh-hohohoho!” Discord chuckled. “The Outland Ambassador? Well then, Miss Heartstrings, I humbly recognize your authority and pray you have the temperance to manage your new station.” His laughter turned somewhat mocking. “You’re going to need it, after all. I am an Outlander myself; that makes you my handler!”

“I-I... um...”

“Don’t play with your food, old man,” Disarray warned.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, little tyke,” he shot back.

The room suddenly seemed smaller to Lyra, and rather warm, at that. Mainly because Celestia’s attention had risen from her tea to give them both a simmering glare. “I thought we agreed to leave our differences at the door,” she said calmly, though the words carried all the force of a thunderbolt. “Equestria is in danger, and it will not be saved by holding grudges.”

“...He started it,” said Discord.

“...He started it,” said Disarray.

The two draconnequi glared at the other.

Celestia didn’t so much as bat an eye. “I believe you were about to enlighten us all with your solution to this predicament?” she asked of the taller of the pair.

Somewhat miffed, Discord nodded. “Ahem. Yes. Now... chaos,” he announced grandly. “The polar opposite of harmony, and thanks to the short leash I find myself on, in a dwindling supply.”

“Short leash?” queried Lyra. “Does that have anything to do with your release?”

Discord grimaced. “Yes. There are... certain conditions and limitations I am now subject to, in return for my freedom to come and go as I please.”

“Let us say that for all intents and purposes, Discord is no longer the avatar of chaos in Equestria,” Celestia said mildly. “Were he still petrified, we could simply use the statue.”

Lyra snorted. “Then why bring him back at all?”

“Because Ambassador, everypony deserves a second chance,” answered Luna. The alicorn’s eyes contained all the pain that only a thousand years of exile could bring. At her side, Ragdoll seemed to match the haunted stare. “Redemption is a powerful tool. Discord will do the world better by guiding it alongside ourselves. Not simply... twisting it as he sees fit.”

“But if he can’t be the conduit...” Lyra’s eyes trailed over to the smaller draconequus.

Disarray guessed what she had in mind. “I’m the ‘half-and-half’ version of chaos. Put that kind of weak sauce in the recipe, and it’d work... but not for long.”

“Aye, a more potent, lasting source of chaos is needed,” agreed Luna.

Discord clapped his hands together, the mismatched wings on his back fluttering in excitement. A look of mischievous delight crossed his face. “Not to worry, I have just the pawn for this little chess game of ours. Lucky for us he tends to end up the hero...”

“He?” Lyra, Celestia, Luna, and Starbuck simultaneously asked.

Discord nodded. “Oh, yes. Just because I was more stoned than Marley on the twentieth of April doesn’t mean I was out of the running. I had to let my chaos out somehow, so I created an outlet in the form of a living being. Another outlander, to be precise! Heh. An Avatar of the Avatar, if you will.”

There were mixed reactions all around. Celestia looked like she had just swallowed something bitter and slimy. Luna merely frowned, seeming uncharacteristically thoughtful. Knight-Commander Starbuck might as well have been etched in stone. Ragdoll appeared all the more melancholy. For better or worse, it seemed Discord had pulled the rug out from under them all.

Lyra simply stared.

“Well... where is he, then?” she asked.

Disarray stepped beside his father. “He had a name once, but, nowadays, he prefers to go by Echo. He knows all about you, but you don’t know anything about him — he likes it that way, I think. Said fellow is currently a walking, talking... okay, maybe not talking... living manifestation of Discord’s chaos energy, though he doesn’t know what that means quite yet.”

“Thou hast done an unspeakable thing, Discord,” said Luna.

“To-may-to, to-mah-to. You’re one to talk, Lu-lu. I’m not the only one who played Creator with their little toys.” Discord’s retort may have been aimed at the darker sister, but the lighter winced just the same. “Every one of us here today has bent nature itself to our own ends, and stands by their choices. And don’t you tell me it was different.”

“Harmony would have died out with me, had I not passed the torch to Twilight Sparkle and her friends,” Celestia said very quietly.

Luna’s ears lay flat to her skull. “Aye, we may have done wrong on these creatures by thrusting them into a role they did not fully comprehend, but at least now we might amend that mistake. We owe it to them, for toying with powers better left untouched.”

“We are in agreement, then?” asked Discord.

“Aye!” replied Luna.

“...Yes,” replied Celestia.

“Good. Then today, in this room, a Fellowship laid out. We will collect our past sins and bind them to the Fount itself, thus maintaining the sacred balance between all magics,” announced Discord. “Who will be so bold as to found it?”

Luna stepped forth. “You have my Reaper.” There was a soft flash of light, and the princess’ personal weapon of choice, a fearsome, elegant war-scythe affixed to a dark, rough hewn staff of wood. She presented the blade to the center of the circle.

Knight Commander Starbuck unsheathed his boomerang from its shoulder harness, laying this atop the scythe of his liege. In the dim light, Lyra noted it was pale white, shaped like a crescent moon. “Ayep,” was all he said.

“And my Banhammer!” proclaimed Disarray, not wanting to be left out, and he withdrew an gratuitously oversized intricate mace from behind his back, laying the head of this atop the growing pile.

With another soft flash of light, a beautiful slender greatsword, etched with golden runes, descended down. “Sunbeam stands with you,” murmured Celestia.

Discord removed his left arm with a pop! “What?” he said, at the mixed assortment of reactions, adding it with the other items. “I could have used another extremity, if you’d prefer.”

“That will do,” Luna said icily. “Ambassador? Will you join us?”

“Me?” said Lyra. “But I’m just... me.” Gazing around the group, at some of the most powerful entities Equestria had ever produced, she could not help but feel humbled. In the face of such an awesome assembly, what could she possibly offer?

“You are an important ally to have for our endeavour,” Celestia stated. “Half those assembled in this room owe your station some fealty. And even more will come under your responsibility soon enough.”

“We cannot complete the set without the bishop,” Disarray laughed. “We've everything else but that and most of the pawns!”

“I... all right.” From her saddlebags came a golden lyre, with strings of white spidersilk. She set this upon the summit of the pile. “I will do what I can.”

The assorted items shone with a magical brilliance, each a different hue that traced itself back to their owners. A hot wave of air pulsed outwards, accompanied by the sweet teal of a bell.

“It is done,” Celestia gravely said.

Lyra withdrew her instrument, noting that the strings were issuing forth an arcane steam. She plucked a string, wondering just what it was she’d gotten herself into.

Achievement Unlocked! - "Cat People Are Crazy"
Faction Discovered! - The Fellowship
Ally Unlocked! - Ragdoll, the Sage Elder

- Perk: Alien Instinct: (+3 perception, +5 attack) Although you have taken the body of an Equestrian, the blood of your true race sings loud within your veins. You have not forgotten the thrill of the hunt, nor the skills and patience it requires.

[II - Second] Mangy Mongrel Mutts Mutiny Most Maximally

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PART THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE SECOND

In which a silly soul sobers, sewage scuba is sustained, and a saddening saga starts...

The Sauce Boss

It was hard to believe it all sometimes, looking back.

Only in his wildest dreams was such a life ever possible. A life of adventure, long winding roads and secluded groves. A life of wonder, mystery and legends, things seen once in a lifetime — and maybe even less than that. A life of good company, nights spent singing and telling stories, and some damn fine cooking to cap it off.

A hunk of celery lay on the cutting board. He appraised it, sharpened cutting knife gripped in his mouth.

Coconut was a simple pony. He’d never pretended to be anything but. The only thing even remotely refined about him was his palette, which was almost as exotic as the many stories he kept tucked away for the campfire.

The knife flashed, as fast as thought. It blurred across the cutting board, reducing the length of celery to a pile of perfect slices.

He didn’t have a knack for subtlety, and he certainly didn’t have the desire to practice it. No, let the shakers and movers have their games, he was more than content to sit in the shade, pipe in mouth, soaking up an afternoon’s warmth.

An onion was placed down next. One stomp of a hoof was enough to launch it into the air. With the grace and ease of natural talent, honed by years of practice, the blade flicked out again, almost lazily to the untrained eye.

Coconut was partial to daydreaming as he worked. Today’s menu was a powerful vegetable stew, with big hunks of venison served on the side for the dogs. The stew had been simmering for an hour, soon developing a taste of rambling fantasies and half-baked story ideas. Every meal was a different tale, filled with different characters and conflicts.

The celery and onion were dumped into the pot. The slide down turned them into boats on the river, plunging over a waterfall and into a boiling sea. Tossed and battered by waves, the brave little boats bobbed about the ocean. Were they a fleet of merchants? Pirates? Explorers, lost at sea? A pinch of salt became a light snow falling over weary sailors.

He decided he needed some sea serpents, because no good sailing story was without a few.

A few babar roots were plucked from where they hung from the rafters. Pale, gnarled things, they had a tendency to melt, dissolving in broth to lend them a creamy, yet spicy tang. He tossed them in, and the little ships weathered the mighty waves they caused.

He sniffed the release of fragrant steam, humming an old shanty under his breath.

An undersea volcano had opened, an island was beginning to rise beneath the waves.

Just as predicted, a large drifter gourd rose to the top. Filled with drifter gas, the gourds grew in low, muggy places, breaking free of the soil on hot days when the temperature caused the gas inside to expand, and they would float away on the summer wind, eventually settling down someplace far away. He plucked it out and poked a small hole in it with the knife, taking an inhalation of the of the small jet of hot, yellowish gas it gushed.

He smacked his lips. Tangy, with a hint of citrus.

Back into the pot went the leaking gourd, seasoning the stew as it deflated. Some of the ships had clumped together, forming what seemed to conclave, a floating city of boats.

He suddenly became aware of a wet nose inching over the side of the pot. He reached for something to hit it with. Hopefully not something too sharp.

WHAP!

Spatula. Horsefeathers. He’d hoped for at least the meat tenderizer.

Chance held his throbbing shcozz as he hopped a painful dance around the pot. “Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow! My dose! Why sdupid pody hid me od tha dose!?” he wailed.

“Why ya stickin’ yer sniffer in my grub?” he laughed. “Beggin’ for table scraps?”

Chance, the youngest diamond dog of the pack, wasn’t even fully grown yet. Short and stocky, he wore only a simple, though filthy, belt around his waist — crooked cudgel shoved through this — preferring to go bare-chested. One of his ears was permanently limp, and flopped around comically when he moved. A large brown spot covered half his face, the single amount of color on his short, milky white coat.

The pup scrunched his muzzle around, going cross-eyed as he tried to inspect the sensitive appendage for damage. “Dat hurt,” he grumbled.

“Suck it up,” Coconut advised him, before tossing a small strip of venison his way. “Here, ya puffed-up furball. Just don’t be tellin’ the others.”

Chance caught it in his teeth and happily scampered outside, tail wagging as he went. The chef watched him go, slowly shaking his head.

When he turned back, there were three more diamond dogs around the cauldron, suddenly frozen by his glare. One spotted black and white, one silvery grey, and the other a filthy yellow. Each held an armful of stolen food.

Coconut spun the spatula like a baton, so fast it caused an audible hum. “OH NO YE DON’T!” He lunged. “THERE BE NO THIEVING VITTLES IN MY GALLEY!”

Ten steps forward.

About-face.

Glare.

Ten steps forward.

Lather, rinse, and repeat.

The master of the kitchen strutted imperiously by the three sorry diamond dogs huddled on the floor, muzzles bound by rope and each sporting a group of painful-looking welts. Coconut leveled a rolling pin at them, and they flinched. He grinned maliciously.

“Now... what ‘ave ye learned today?”

There was an assortment of muffled whimpering.

Coconut put a hoof up to his ear, eyes wide as he looked around. “Whuzzat? I couldn’t hear ye, over the sound of stealin’ food from my kitchens.”

He had to admit, they were getting better at this. Every day, it was something new. Last week, he’d caught them rappelling Vixen down through the skylight. Today, they’d even gotten Chance in on it, raiding the cupboards while his back was turned.

Did he enjoy thwarting their plans? Playing the part of the greedy villain, hiding his wealth away from the starving peasants?

Coconut straightened, sticking out his lower lip and tossing a long rag about his shoulders. A strainer soon found its place on his head as his crown.

You’re damn right he enjoyed it.

The Dark Lord of the Sink scowled ferociously, fondling his rolling pin as he stared fire and brimstone at the unfortunate prisoners.

“Time and time again, I catch ye tryin’ ta swipe me vittles. Ye know very well that ye can’t just stuff your faces whenever ye feel! This ain’t no grocery store!” He grabbed Spot by the scruff of his neck and held him up, eye to eye. “You! Does it look like I can pull vittles outta me bunghole? Eh!? DOES IT?”

Spot whimpered something incomprehensible.

“DARN RIGHT IT DOESN’T!” Coconut roared, dropping him back down again with a meaty thwunk. “And even if I could, I wouldn’t share ‘em with the likes ‘o you three.

“Now... git!”

He threw a glancing kick at them as they tore out of the wagon, tails tucked between their legs. They’d be back... tomorrow, and with some other new scheme to make off with his pantry.

The Dark Lord of the Sink giggled to himself.

Late morning had bled into midday, the hot summer sunbeams coming down through the ironwood pines created small patches of warmth to lie down in.

The Cinderwings were lazing about the caravan, taking advantage of the rest they’d been granted. Coconut watched them as he hauled a bucket of trash through the camp. Diamond dogs were peculiar creatures, he thought, but not so different from ponies. Not so different at all.

Some of them simply sat and rested. Curled up in the shade was Spot, one of his legs kicking as he dreamed a doggy dream. Over by the fire was Shadow, whittling away at a small block of wood with his claws. It looked like it was shaping into an animal of some kind. Chance was busying himself by rolling around in the dirt. Luther, the only skilled metalworker of the group, had some of his inventory spread out on the ground, and he was busy inspecting it, simply eating the scrap that offended his standards. Waste not, want not, so it seemed.

Wait a tic. Where's the others?

Balto should have been around somewhere. Ginger had put him in charge, after all. Now that he thought about it, Boxer was missing as well. Why had the surly diamond dog gone missing? Coconut snorted to himself through the bag. Some leader that one would make.

The dump was a short walk aways, over a small hill next to the latrine, which was nothing more than a deep, foul smelling hole in the ground that was filled back in when camp was broken. Coconut emptied the bucket, rotting food and other rubbish spilling out into the hole. He was just about to turn back to camp when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a twitch of movement between the trees.

He squinted, detecting two biped figures slipping through the shadows, heading this way. One tall and lanky, the other massive and muscular. It looked like Balto! Another shaped loomed behind him. That must be Boxer, the giant female who hung around him so much.

Coconut scratched his chin. Why were they sneaking about? Balto wasn’t exactly the one to be much afraid of anything, not with that she-hulk of his on his tail. Ginger had told them all to remain in camp, awaiting her return from the dragon hunt.

Something was up, and he intended to find out what was what. When his chocolate hoof returned to the forest floor, the stallion had once again slipped into character. There was a story to tell had here!

Agent C struck a heroic pose. There was no finer hardboiled ace detective to have on the case.

Crackling in the brush. They were coming this way! Agent C trotted in place, panicking. “Gotta hide gotta hide gotta hide...” There was no cover in the immediate area, a notable feature of the mighty ironwood forests. You could see quite a ways underneath the sea of pines, thanks to the sunlight being vastly choked out from the canopy. The shadows wouldn't hide him for much longer, not from the keen senses of the diamond dogs.

The resourceful spy turned his gaze to the only option left.

He swallowed.

“Should not have fed them beans last night...”

Nevertheless, he plugged his nose and hopped right down the latrine. He hit the bottom with a sickening squelch and a splash, sinking down a foot through a combined mess of waste and trash. Gagging and dry-heaving, he proceeded to hunker down and push more of the disgusting ooze over himself.

He would never look at the brown of his coat the same way ever again.

Up above, though, the diamond dogs had reached the scene.

“...Huh. What’s this bucket doing here?” he heard Balto say. There was a vague grunt in reply.

Horseapples! His slop bucket! Agent C cursed his clumsiness.

“Anyway. Are you ready, Boxer? This not going to be easy.” He sounded nervous about something.

“Still don’t get why,” was the grumbling rasp of the enormous female. “Just take money and run.”

There was an exasperated sigh. “Because, stupid, we can’t do anything else until we do what the Mistress told us. Once we do that, we can buy our freedom back with the profits from the stripeys and the blood price.”

“...Still don’t get why.”

“Look, it simple,” growled Balto. “First, we take over the camp. Beat the others. But gotta do it quick, we don't have much time before stupid featherpony finds the dragon. Gotta get to her first. That hard part. Everything else easy. Dragon explain this to us last night. Made us repeat word for word or she kill us good. Why you no listen!”

A large bubble exploded in front of the brave agent’s face, splattering him in filth. He choked on the noxious fumes, stifling himself in the crook of his foreleg as best he could.

There was silence from up above.

“...You hear that?”

A gurgling rumble was the reply. “Stomach. Bad beans.”

“Well take care of yourself, the dung hole right there. Meet me back at camp, and we begin our rise to the top. We’ll call ourselves... the Frost Fangs.”

“That stupid name.”

“You’re stupid. Just do as I say. I’m going to be the Alpha. You gotta listen to me.”

“Okay boss.”

The dim light filtering into his hiding place was suddenly blotted out. Agent C looked up in mounting horror.

His eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen.

“...Oh, sh—”

Some time later, a brown hoof planted itself on the edge of the hole. Groaning laboriously, a stallion followed it out, wheezing and rasping as he dragged himself out of the cesspool of filth. He was a dripping, slimy mess of... unspeakable, hrk... terrible things.

Blrrgh.

...Excuse me.

...He was sprawled across his back, sucking in huge gulps of air and trying not to think about the squelching noise he made whenever he moved. Fresh air had never tasted so good. He vowed, in that moment, to never make a bathroom joke for the rest of his life.

Or to eat beans.

Fighting to his hooves, he staggered off in the general direction of camp. There was a plot afoot, and only the handsome, intelligent secret agent could put a stop to it. “Here I come... to save the daaa-aa-aa-ayy...”

One hoof in front of the other. It shouldn’t be this hard. He felt wretched.

“Da-na-na-na-na-na-na-na Coconut... Coconut...”

Probably from breathing in so much methane.

He paused, turned his head to the side, and promptly emptied the contents of his stomach. When he was done, he felt much better. The smell, however, remained. He broke into a gallop, hoping the quick sprint would shake off the worst of the offensive debris.

Where was the camp again? He could have sworn... there! The small rise!

He thundered over the small hill, around the tree, and stumbled onto a scene of carnage.

The camp was in shambles, and howling, fighting diamond dogs filled the clearing, battling hammer and tongs in a mosh pit of violence. A thick cloud of dust had been kicked up by the battle, obscuring the finer details. Only vauge shapes hurtled back and forth at each other.

It would take a mighty hero to put a stop to this nonsense. Somepony strong, and fierce, and brave to the point of stupidity. A secret agent wouldn’t cut it, not here, not now. He needed...

Somepony like...

Conut the Barbarian?

Yeah, that had a nice ring to it.

The warrior’s ears twitched as something whistled overhead. He ducked as a broken barrel passed by the space his head had occupied a second before. He turned to see who’d thrown it.

Chance looked at him sheepishly, putting down a second barrel. “Eh-heh-heh-heh...”

“Pup, what’s going on here?” he demanded.

“I’unno,” said the diamond dog. “One second, we all standing by fire for Balto speech, next everybody going at it tooth and claw. Don’t know who to fight, so I’mma sit out.”

“Ohhh, no ye don’t!” the stallion grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “I need your help, pup! Balto and Boxer are the ones we want. They want ta break up the pack! Me and you, we gotta stop ‘em!”

“‘Kay, I help.” The diamond dog sniffed the air. “Wait, what that smell?”

Conut sighed. “...Victory, pup. That’s the smell of victory.”

“Victory smells a lot like sh—”

“Chaaaaaarge!” Conut the Barbarian dragged his unwitting accomplice into the heart of the battle, wielding his trusty spatula of doom.

They were almost immediately bowled over by a large, furry shape that tumbled out of the dust. Conut was squashed flat beneath the beast, and he savagely kicked up at it, hooves striking soft belly. The weight disappeared, and he sprang up upon his fallen foe, pinning him with his spatula.

Shadow snarled up at him, then, upon realizing who it was, relaxed. “Foodpony?”

The brave warrior slapped him across the face. “No, I am Conut. Conut the Barbarian! Now listen! What in seven savory spices is going on here!?”

The diamond dog frowned. “Balto. He told us he was going to take us up north. Said he was Alpha of the Cinderwings now. He wants his own pack, and said anyone who doesn’t come with him as a packmate was going as a slave.”

The Barbarian cast his steely gaze around the chaos, picking out nothing but clashing silhouettes and the occasional roar or smashing object. “I take it ye refused him?”

“Aye, most did. Spot tackled him into the fire and then everything just went to Tartarus.”

“Who didn’t?”

“Luther. Me, the pup, and Spot aren’t gonna do it.”

Conut smiled grimly down at him. “And with me, that makes it four against three. The odds are in our favor!”

A massive shape loomed out of the stinging dust cloud in front of them. Boxer, rearing to her gargantuan eight-foot height, lifted her weapon of choice high above her head; a small tree, ripped right out of the earth by her freakish strength and carved into a terrifying war maul. She roared at them, spraying spittle and bad breath everywhere.

“...Right. Forgot about her. Nevermind then.”

The hulking diamond dog sent the end of her maul screaming towards earth. He rolled to the side, and it instead slammed dead center into Shadow’s chest, which promptly collapsed with a sickening crack of ribs.

“G-haak!” Shadow gasped in shock, blood and spittle flying out of his mouth as he convulsed and went limp.

Boxer didn’t pause for an instant, stepping over her fallen packmate and lifting her bloodied weapon high again.

Conut bucked up with his rear hooves, landing a solid kick right between the junction of her legs. She grunted in acknowledgement, as if he had tapped her with a feather.

“Why are you such a bitch!?” the Barbarian exclaimed in exasperation. “Seriously! That’s just not fair!”

But before Boxer could land the final blow, a tiny ball of fury cannoned into her chest, actually knocking her flat on her back. Little Chance straddled her, hammering at her blunt face with his cudgel as he yelled;

“YOU—”

Wham!

“— BIG —”

Pow!

“— UGLY —“

Crack! “

“—FAT STUPID BULLY!”

Thunk! Whap! Phoom!

“Ho-ho, way to go, pup!” Conut cheered him on. “Knock her teeth out the back of her skull!”

Boxer calmly caught the weapon in her jaws and snapped it like a twig.

Chance looked at the stump with a blank expression on his face. “Uh-oh.”

She grabbed the now-speechless pup, smothering his face with a single paw, and simply threw him high into the air. Smoothly rolling back upright, she spun her giant maul like a propeller, before bringing it through a vicious uppercut just as Chance’s flailing form cut back through the dust. His body bent at an unnatural angle as it took him in the side. He let loose a weak gurgling yelp as his body spun bonelessly through the air, crumpling to a heap some ways away. He tried to rise once, trembling, then collapsed.

“Pup!” cried Conut, making to move towards him, but Boxer jabbed at him with the maul’s head, slamming it into his forehead and sending him skidding backwards. The Barbarian’s teeth rattled in his skull, but he did not fall. Instead, he flexed his legs and pushed back, hooves digging hard into the soft needles of the forest.

Boxer rumbled with laughter, then proceeded to reach out with her free paw and seize him by the neck. Meaty, powerful fingers wrapped themselves tightly, immediately crushing his windpipe. She squeezed, and lifted him right off the ground, so tight he felt his neck would shatter. Away went the Conut the Barbarian in an instant, followed swiftly by Agent C, the Dark Lord of the Sink, and most of his oxygen. There was only one pony left to finish this story: Coconut. The Cook. And he had only begun to fight.

Boxer sniffed at the air. "What that smell?"

"Your defeat..." he gasped, and hit her in the face with his spatula, "...by my bean casserole!"

She blinked, more in surprise than pain, looking first to his weapon, then to the pony in her clutches. Her grip had slackened off a bit, allowing him to suck in some air.

“Don’t bite the hoof that feeds ye!” Coconut wheezed. “Come on, then! Ye want some more? It’s leftovers night, an’ I’ve got extra an open can of whoopass that’s about to go bad!” he brandished his weapon again, flailing in her grasp.

Boxer simply flexed her arm again, cutting him off with a comical squeak, not unlike that of a chew-toy.

Coconut could feel darkness closing around his vision. His lungs burned for air.

The last thing he saw was Balto, a bloody lance cocked over his silvery shoulders as he strolled out of the dust to pat his minion on the back. The wolfish diamond dog was all smiles, his eyes dancing with contented ambition.

Coconut opened his eyes.

Something cold was perched atop his muzzle. He squinted. Something white and fluffy. Having lived his whole life in the sweltering heat of the rainforest, it took him a full minute to figure out what the thing was.

A snowflake.

Having only seem them in books and pictures, or whenever the Mayor had put on his yearly magic performance, it was understandable as to why he was so confused. They were still less than a hundred miles from the equator. Why was there snow on his face?

He realized he was lying on his back, on something cold, metal, and currently moving. There were bars everywhere, the snow was drifting in through this, along with a biting wind.

Coconut groaned and sat up slowly, aching and feeling as though he’d been through a thousand-mile race. He stretched, suddenly yanked to the side as his leg caught on something. Dumbly, he stared down at the manacle the bound him to the bars that made up an impenetrable prison.

He was in a caged wagon. He was in a caged wagon that was currently traversing a frozen bridge in the middle of a wintry wasteland. As far as the eye could see, snow and ice covered the world. No mountain, no valley, no pebble in the road was not coated with whiteness.

A shuffling came from behind him. He whirled, again jerked back by the chain.

Chance was sitting against the back of the wagon, head lolling with every bump in the road. By his side, Shadow groaned and rasped with every breath, clutching painfully at his shattered chest. Over his bloody shoulder, Coconut could see the Shagwagon following close behind, Luther plodding on in the harness, clad in snowy rags and winter goggles.

Even more surprising was the presence of two zebras in the wagon, huddled against each other across from him, in a fitful sleep. They looked terrible; cut and bruised in many places, some dripping wounds frozen solid.

But there, slumped against the farthest corner, was Spot, arm in a filthy, bloodstained bandage. The diamond dalmatian’s yellow eyes met his, tinged with grief.

“What the —?” began Coconut, before halting; his voice sounded harsh and grating, his throat felt as if it had been clenched in a vice.

“We lost,” Spot answered quietly. “From the start, they knew. They knew about the dragon. Ran into it on a hunt the first night we enter forest. They start the fire. They bait Ghostclaws and Cindercorn with the stripey ponies.” He shook his head sadly. “And then they run to her before the others find her. Use dragonfire to send us here to be sold. Balto tell me everything, explain it like he were right and we were wrong.”

“Where’s... achk... here?” Coconut managed.

“Roam,” he whispered fearfully.

Coconut didn’t think he had it left in him to scream. But there was more horror and loss in that wordless cry than any other sound he’d made in his life. When the sound — and the breath — left him, he, too, slumped against the cage and gazed hollowly outside as the frozen world trundled by.

“Are we gonna d-die there?” asked Spot.

Coconut gave him a defeated, mournful stare.

“Aye.”

Acheivement Unlocked! - "Biting the Hoof That Feeds You"

Character Unlocked! - Coconut Fronds, Head Chef of the Cinderwings

-- Perk(?) - Ghost of Wethoof (-93.2% willingness to strike): After the Battle of Wethoof, Coconut swore

to never take another life. Insult his cooking, however, and that's an entirely different story.

Level Up!

-- New Perk - Epic Meal Time (+20 dmg with all kitchen utensils): Many years of training has given

you a unique understanding of all the ways ordinary culinary tools can be used to smash faces and

take names. What 'chu know about spatula-jitsu, player?

-- New Spell - Spontaneous Comboozetion: At any time during the game, you gain a chance to receive

a special, limited edition bottle of Applejack Daniels. Putting said beverage in your cooking will not

only make it twice as healing to your party, but you also get a pair of free sunglasses while it lasts.

Region Discovered! - The Roaman Wastelands

[II - Third] The Fire Down Below

View Online

PART THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE THIRD

In which the claws come out, a new player takes the board, and Spike is actually useful...

Ginger Snap

“...Of all the terrible ideas I’ve been a part of... this one has got to be the worst.”

The immense cavern spread out around her on all sides, the darkness of its hidden cracks and crevasses glittering here and there with small crystals. Aside from the rough path ahead, slowly winding around the mighty stalagmite, there was little to see. Little to hear, as well, aside from her own motions. The harsh clip-clop of her hooves on stone and the beating of her own heart in her ears. Her smoke-stained metal barding rasped softly as the plates scraped up against each other with every movement. The creak of leather as her sword swung gently in the scabbard across her shoulders.

Behind her came the line of Cinderwings, the diamond dogs padding warily up the path. The little zebra, Zanza, rode atop the shoulders of the younger male, Rin-Tin-Tin, anxiously looking about. Behind them came Old Yeller, moving about in biped fashion as he held his bandaged shoulder in paw, his gnarled spear thunking the ground from where it was held in the crook of an arm. Vixen stalked near the edge of the path, occasionally glancing of the side to see how high they had come. Lassie came next, her long coat matted and dirty but her eyes bright and searching, her longbow slung over her shoulders. Bringing up the rear came Entropy, the alicorn hobbling gamely on despite the punishment he had endured. Each of them carried their own sounds with them, baggage of personality and circumstance.

Ginger found it odd how stillness could seem so loud. She irritatedly blew a strand of fiery mane away from where it had fallen over her face.

“Hey, come on, lighten up! This is totally gonna work,” came Daring Do’s muffled voice from her side.

Ginger glanced behind her, fixing the solitary saddlebag strapped to her left flank with a look. “Yeah,” she said tensely. “I’m sure.”

The saddlebag shifted about. “You need to stop worrying, Ginger.”

“Oh! I need to stop worrying?” Ginger huffed. “We’re half a mile underground, in a cave rigged to explode over our heads, tired, hungry, and injured, and the only thing standing between us and getting the buck out of here is a stupid promise and a fully grown dragon.”

“Well, that about sums it up.”

“And I shouldn’t be worried!?”

“Heh-heh. Nah, we got this.”

Ginger kicked aside an abandoned spear in the path, a weapon probably cast aside by the dragon’s fleeing slaves, who were no doubt regrouping at the top of the path. It was nothing more than a sharpened stick, cracked and useless. “How are you so sure?”

“I just got a feeling, is all. Explorer’s instinct. I’ve learned to go with my gut, ya know?”

“Not really,” grunted Ginger.

“Look.” Daring’s muffled rasp carried a little bit of amused exasperation. “We know exactly what we’re doing, so we aren’t going about this blindly. We’ve got a plan, and the means to do it. The alternatives aren't exactly promising.”

“Sudden death by a fire-breathing monster?”

Chuckling. “Please... I deal with that risk every day.”

Ginger gave the saddlebag a rough shake, provoking a sharp yelp of surprise.

“Ow! Hey, come on, I was joking!”

“Shut up,” said Ginger, fighting back a small grin.

There came a grumble. “Alright, alright. But seriously, we can do this. We can. We just gotta stick to the plan. We’ve got brains and surprise on our side. If we can get ahold of the hoard’s Keystone, we can get out of this clean!”

“Remind me where you found this little loophole that we’re basing our lives on?”

“Read it in a book, hon. We do kind of have a library back on the wagon. Echo thought it’d be a good idea to brush up on dragons... and well, he was right. Speaking of the big fella, you mind not swaying your hips so much? It’s hard enough not getting seasick in here, Celestia only knows how bad it is in his ride.”

Ginger’s hoof suddenly caught an edge, and she stumbled. A hot line of red crossed her cheeks. “I am not swaying my hips!”

“I’ve seen the way you move, girl. You strut.”

Ginger tried to ignore the small fuzzy bubble that had blown up inside her chest. Daring had been watching her hips, apparently. That stupid strand of mane fell in front of her face again. She blew it aside with a snort and slammed her goggles down over her head. “Whatever.”

Ginger had more pressing matters to think about than Daring Do looking at her flanks. Stupid Daring. Stupid pegasi. Stupid mane. Stupid, stupid, stupid. It wasn’t the time or the place for such distractions.

A droplet of water smacked her in the nose, interrupting her thoughts. She looked up to see more of them dangling far, far away, where the cavern’s mighty ceiling finally reached a zenith. The water drop sizzled on her nose before she shuddered, throwing it off with a toss of her head.

Ginger shuddered, valiantly trying — and failing — to not think about those jagged points falling from above.

Don’t worry, huh? Yeah... right.

Not for the first time, she was reminded how much she hated caves.

She concentrated on the path ahead. It had become progressively steeper and more narrow as they wound their way up the stalagmite, the stone smoothed with grooves from running water and the steps of living things. Where before four of the Cinderwings could walk it abreast with some room to spare, now they progressed single file. Ginger let herself be absorbed monotonous view of rock passing beneath her hooves. It was better than staring out into the impressive abyss of the cavern, where other natural features hung from the ceiling, pointing down like ragged blades, poised to peirce and rip and tear and crush.

All too soon, the summit was reached.

The great pillar they stood upon had been sundered long ago my some terrible event. Once stretching to the ceiling itself, the top half had snapped away cleanly, leaving a flat top nearly the size of a football field.

Ginger and her pack emerged onto this, and as one, had their breath taken away.

Mountains of treasure were heaped all around, more riches than they had seen in their entire lives. Priceless gems studded the beds of gold and silver coins, piles of jewelry and ornamentations for every species imaginable. Ceremonial weapons were thrust haphazardly into the fields of wealth. Ginger spied a solid gold crown nearly as large as she was, cast aside onto stacks of metal ingots.

“Celestia pinch me I’m dreaming...” she murmured. No wonder it had been such a trial to reach this point. The loot of a thousand years resided within the dragon’s halls. And yet... Ginger had not seen a single scale of the beast. Only the marks it left in the ground, fearsome as they were, and the cruel treatment of it’s property.

The dragon’s thralls were there, too. Gaunt and hollowed, they slumped dejectedly against the piles, staring at the new arrivals. Many were bleeding openly from wounds sustained from the rout, and hadn’t even bothered to clean them. Crimson lifeblood flowed openly onto the assembled hoard, staining gold coins red. Ginger passed by one, an ancient minotaur cow that merely blinked at her in silence.

“Where is your master, old one?” she asked the old one. “I want to see her.”

The minotaur’s voice was wet and ragged.

“Here... the Mistress is here...”

Ginger looked around again, only seeing the piles of treasure. “Right. Guess I’m going to have to hit the hornet’s nest to draw the queen out.” Her horn sputtered to life, a weak emerald glow cast upon the mounds of wealth. “Just gotta find something to hit it with...”

Behind her, the assembled diamond dogs tired to contain their drooling. Rin-Tin-Tin gazed all around in wonder. “Great Lupus in the sky...” he bent down, paw outstretched to pick up a piece. A gray hoof shot out of nowhere and stopped him.

“I really, really, really wouldn’t do that,” said Disarray. “As much as the thought of taking a money bath appeals to you furry chaps, there’s only one item in here that you’ll get to swipe and live to tell the tale.

Lassie came up beside them, nervously twang-ing the string of her bow. “Look for hoard-stone, Rin,” she reminded him. “We beat dragon if we get that, but we get it first.”

Rin-Tin-Tin noticed a sapphire-studded war-axe lying not feet away. He looked down at his paws, where a simple weapon of stone and wood lay nestled. He whimpered. “But... is so shiny...” He suddenly noticed a sudden lack of weight across his back. “Huh, where littlestripe go?”

Vixen, passing by, heard him. She paused and glared at him, growling. “You lost her?”

Rin-Tin-Tin craned his neck and scabbled at his back, looking for something. Eventually he gave up. “Think so,” he confirmed.

Vixen’s head fell into her paw, while Lassie did a better job of maintaining her composure. “Then we gotta look for the little one,” she decided. “This not good place to misplace a pup. We’ll use our noses, track her down.” The three diamond dogs split up, vanishing into the maze of treasure.

Meanwhile, Ginger Snap was losing the will to stay calm.

“Hey, you know where your master is at?” she asked a frail, emaciated stallion clad in rags, simply lying across one of the small paths that cut through the hoard. “Y’ellooo?” he didn’t acknowledge her, simply gazing off into space as several small wounds bled openly across his frame. She poked him with a hoof, and he simply rolled over. “Alright, this is starting to get annoying.”

The pony was abruptly wrenched off the ground, dangling two feet in the air by a solid band of shimmering light held tight around his throat. He whimpered piteously, the first reaction she’d been able to get out of him so far.

But Ginger was out of patience, not to mention mercy. “I’m going to ask one more time,” she spoke slowly and clearly so there would be no mistaking her words. “Where’s. The. Dragon. ” Only a pained gurgling was her response. “Answer me!” A small tail of fire actually erupted from between her teeth as her magic intensified.

“Ginger, stop that! Look in his mouth! He couldn’t answer you even if he wanted to!” said her saddlebag.

“Wha — why?” she forced open the unfortunate stallion’s maw. There, amidst the soiled dentistry of a life of servitude and brutality, lay a distinct lack of tongue. “Oh, you’ve got to be...!” Ginger’s grasp on him evaporated, and he crashed heavily back to the stone, before curling into a quivering ball.

The unicorn looked away in disgust. “I hate this place.”

Daring’s voice was like water for a burn. “I know, hon. But that’s no reason to take it out on them. They’re bound to service by deeper magic than either of us know. Dragon spells are... scary, to put it bluntly.”

Ginger grunted, moving away down a path carved between a pile of rotting money chests and a precariously stacked tower of candelabras.

“Some of these guys have probably never even seen the light of day. Others might have been here for generations. To be taken as a thrall by a dragon is one thing... but being born into slavery is another thing entirely. Those unfortunates are bound to obey — any command, any desire — no matter the cost. The dragon owns them utterly; mind, body, and soul. With every descendant born into service... the possession only grows, until they have ceased to be an independent entity. They become the hoard.”

The hoard will defend itself.

Something like vomit welled up in the orange mare’s throat. She choked it back down.

“This is just... it’s... this is not right!” Ginger finally gasped.

“That’s why we’re here,” said Daring. “We can break the chains.”

Ginger fell into silence and trudged onwards, weaving her way through the gilded landscape. She had no particular path to follow, letting her hooves guide themselves. Coins clinked and rasped as the few pieces that had spilled onto stone were savagely kicked away. the more she saw, the more she threatened to boil over. A single bloodspattered coin levitated up in her grasp.

She held it up in the air, pretending for an instant that it had become the sun, and she had set it into the sky. A pale orange hoof reached up and blotted it out.

Gold, gold, everywhere.

And not an ounce without a splash of red.

“Wow.”

“Yep.”

“I mean... just. Wow.”

“Uh-huh. Pretty awesome, yeah?”

“I’ll say. How did you even find this place?”

“Wings, hon. And a knack for finding your sweet spots.”

“That’s... that... bwuh!”

“Ha-haa! Trotted right into that one! Oh, wow, look at you blush.”

“Clooouuuuud~!”

To describe it as a beautiful day would be vast understatement. It was the kind of hot, hazy summer rarity that only comes around a couple times a year. In the golden afternoon, hanging laundry fluttered weakly in the muggy breeze. Insects droned, albeit muffled by the sheer serenity of the day. Even the rainforest wildlife weren’t as loud as usual, stifled by fat bellies and sunny spots to sleep.

It was the kind of day where, if you had an ounce of common sense, you packed your saddlebags full of food, a picnic blanket, and a good book, before setting out to claim a choice slice of shade to laze about in.

It was the kind of day where the dogs were tripping over their own tongues. Where if you stood long enough near the gleaming scrap pile behind the screechy clangs of the Snap’s forge — Ginger’s mother had been wailing away all morning on a particularly resistant hunk of steel — you’d burn a bald patch into your coat from the scattered sunbeams slinging off the discarded metals.

It was the kind of day where everypony trotted the dirt paths, because the cobblestones were hot enough to cook on. And because some enterprising few had even decided to do just that, so it was bad manners to step in their food.

Behind the South end of Wethoof lay a ridge, unknown to most, a slab of ancient bedrock thrust up through the forest floor at a steep angle eons ago. It was made of the bones of the earth itself, and it always felt cool to the touch on a roasting summer day. It bent towards the town, like a bow, and at the zenith of that arc, a great hunk of the mossy rock thrusted higher and farther than the rest, cutting into the treetops like the bow of a mighty stone ship. Only a pegasus or an enterprising tree-climber could reach its prow. The land dipped down and away on the far side of the ridge, so if you decided to climb it, you’d be treated with an astounding view of the forest beyond the small village.

This was where two figures lay, side by side on the moss, looking down into the valley beyond their home.

One of them slugged the other in the shoulder.

“Ow! Hey, come on, that was funny.”

“...Okay, yeah, maybe it was. A little.”

The larger of the two — though not by much — a pale pink pegasus sporting a short-cut blood red mane, snuggled up against her counterpart, drawing close with a wing. The other pony, a pretty pale orange unicorn mare with mane of messy, fiery locks, sighed contentedly and buried her face into the pink wing.

The coin landed with a noise that seemed unseemly loud for its size.

Ginger watched it roll aways, before it settled at the base of another pile, this one the largest of all, consisting of a sheer mountain of jewels; every kind and size was represented, glinting diamonds rubbing against fiery opals, sharp sapphires. Every color of the rainbow was represented in that one place, she suspected.

Wait... since when were black and white part of the rainbow?

They weren’t.

There, at the summit, a moving shape, small from distance.

Zanza?

Something poked her on the shoulder. She glanced around to find Old Yeller standing in front of the rest of her pack, awkwardly twiddling his paws. The others seemed just as uncomfortable, despite the fact they were literally covered in various trinkets and jewelery. Rin-Tin-Tin, in particular, was doing a very poor job of concealing a monstrous gilded axe in his vest. Beside them sat Entropy, smiling lamely through golden teeth.

Ginger’s hoof took the express route to her face.

The diamond dog opened his mouth to speak, but Ginger cut him off with a look that could melt rock.

“You guys totally got distracted, didn’t you.”

Lassie bashfully shuffled in place, several small bags of gems dangling from her harness. Vixen looked away, trying not to fiddle with a veritable arsenal of knives thrust through her belt, a multitude of arm bands and rings sparkling. Rin-Tin-Tin tried not to drool on his new toy. Entropy gnawed on his hoof with solid gold mouthwear, before flashing her a grin. His braces spelled out ‘PHRESH’ in big, diamond-studded letters.

“...Uh-huh,” said Old Yeller, eyes darting to a single silver earring in his ear.

Ginger glared back towards the pile of gems, squinting. The peak itself was capped by a pristine sapphire, almost the size of the diminutive equine scrabbling towards it.

“And the reason we’re here in the first place managed to slip away.”

“...Uh-huh.”

“And is now climbing right towards... what looks to be the exact heart of the hoard. Is that... it has to be, look at the size of it.” She rubbed her temples. At the least the little zebra had initiative. No doubt she’d seen the gem and come to the same conclusion.

“...Uh-huh.”

“Which will immediately awaken the dragon and send it into a blind, frothing rage, no doubt bringing this entire mountain down over our heads.”

Old Yeller swallowed a lump in his throat. “...Uh-huh.”

Ginger looked at him, then back to the pile.

She groaned to herself.

“...Alright let’s do this.” Ginger’s aura spread to her single saddlebag, lifting it off her back. She hefted it, testing the weight.

“Daring?” she asked.

The clasp unlocked, and a certain pegasus’ face popped out of the pouch.

“Showtime?” said Daring Do.

“Showtime,” affirmed Ginger. Daring’s face disappeared into the depths of the saddlebag once more. “Find something to hold onto!” She turned to the diamond dogs. “Yeller? Get ready for a fight.”

With that, Ginger Snap took a deep breath...

...spun in place...

...And ground herself to a halt, opening saddlebag as hard and fast as she could as it pointed straight towards the peak. A dark-gold rocket exploded outwards, trailing a monochrome grayscale behind it.

“YA-HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Daring Do, a saddlebag of her own strapped to one flank, zipping along at speeds she’d never before achieved.

Ginger watched her go, heart thudding loudly in her ears. The pegasus sliced the tip right off the pile of treasure, scooping up the sapphire and the little zebra in one fell swoop, before looping around into an easy glide. Ginger could tell the load was heavy by the wobble of her flight.

For a moment, it seemed things would turn out just fine. Daring had the prizes in hoof, the dragon was nowhere in sight, the slave army had been bested, and they hadn’t even needed to resort to Plan B.

Ginger felt it in her hooves first.

A deep, bass rumble, as if the earth itself were a string, plucked by an idle god. All around, the piles of treasure began to shift and crumble, an avalanche of wealth and material goods thundering down from all sides.

“Get to high ground!” Ginger barked, though there was none to be had. Instead, she was forced to wade ever upwards through an ocean of gems and coins. The diamond dogs scrambled up alongside her. Ginger tripped and stumbled, threatening to be swallowed whole by the current, until Old Yeller plucked her out of the golden tide and set her over his shoulder as he struggled gamely on. The diamond dogs finally found a safe haven atop a large, overturned painting of a black sky ship cutting through the air.

From her perch, she could only watch in horror. The thralls did not move to safety, even as they were buried alive underneath their hoard. Not a one so much as attempted.

The great mountain of treasure, formerly capped by the sapphire, exploded outwards, revealing a titanic, surging shape from underneath. All around, the carpet of priceless wealth shifted and heaved, as a titanic form shook itself off.

“Suchhhh arrogancccceeeee...”

For a long while, they were silent, but it was a silence of contentment.

Finally, the pegasus spoke up, not more than a wondering whisper.

“Makes ya feel... kind of small, doesn’t it, Ginger?”

“Hmm?” Ginger surfaced from the pleasurable sensation of nuzzling the soft feathers. “The view? Yeah... yeah, I get what you mean.”

“‘Cause, look on a map, and we’re like, in this itty-bitty splotch of green way off in the corner. And we’ve never even seen anything outside of this rainforest.”

Ginger rolled onto her back, legs kicking in the air a bit as she scooched into the nook where wing met shoulder. The other mare’s forelimb wrapped protectively around her. “I visited Canterlot once, you know,” she said. “Cloud, you shoulda been there! There were towers taller than the trees.”

“Wow,” breathed the pegasus.

“Hehe. Yep.”

Maybe it was the way she could feel Cloud’s heartbeat kick up the slightest of notches, the slightest flex of her wing muscles, or the firmness of her eyes as they fixed on the distant jungle horizon, but Ginger knew something was passing through her counterpart’s head, and if she knew Cloud Nine — and she did — it was something significant.

“You know...” Cloud began.

“Not really,” said Ginger, but gave her an encouraging squeeze anyway.

“Wanna see it from a better angle?”

“Well, sure, I guess, but — woop!”

Faster than she could have thought, Cloud Nine had wriggled out from underneath, flipped her over onto the mossy rock, and hooked forearms around her in a powerful hug. Smushed into the ground as she was by her marefriend's weight, Ginger only had time to register a pair of strong wings spreading wide.

“ — Cloud Nine if you’re about to do what I think you are so help you Celestia they will never be able to find your remains — ”

“Fivefourthreetwooneliftoffbaby!”

PHWOOOM.

The monster had arisen, a terrible golden dragon, hundreds of gems embedded in the cracks between scales. Upon the forehead, a hole in the crystal ornamentation, previously held by the sapphire. Fangs the size of a pony glinted in the half-light of the cave, and great claws kneaded the stone. A wingspan that stretched an entire city block extended wide, the delicate skin stained a riot of colors by dyes and paints.

Its long, serpentine neck coiled down from above, a massive head lowering until the end of its encrusted snout was within a hoof’s reach away. A blast of steam washed over the pack as the dragon took a deep, even breath.

Ginger hopped off Old Yeller’s shoulder and placed herself in front of the diamond dogs. She stood tall and defiant, scraping a hoof against the painting they had found refuge upon.

The great dragon blinked, huge gem-encrusted eyelids revealing pale, milky orbs. No pupils were visible, only a soulless, dead stare.

It was blind.

“Well... that’s interesting,” Entropy mumbled from somewhere behind her.

A rush of dusky feathers, and Daring Do whizzed by overhead, dropping Zanza and the enormous sapphire clutched between her forelegs off, each caught handily by the packmates. Ginger smirked to herself, despite everything. There was actually a chance this would turn out alright. She glanced at the other saddlebag strapped to Daring’s flank as the pegasus pumped hard for altitude, vanishing amongst the stalactites high above. And they hadn’t even needed to go to Plan B. Today was shaping up to be marginally better than most.

The monster’s mouth opened slightly.

“I hear the patter of pawssss... and the knocking of hoovesssss... who hassss dared trespasssss in my domain? Ssssspeak, and ssspeak well.... ‘twill be the lasssst wordsss you utter...”

“My name is Ginger daughter of Frost Snap and Ruby Glow,” she began. “I am a unicorn pony, heiress to the Snap family dynasty, and the Alpha of the Cinderwings, the pack that stands behind me now. And you have some business to conduct with me.”

She turned and bucked the sapphire, her horseshoe’d hooves making it ring like a crystalline bell. The tone echoed mournfully about the cavern, fading away until there were no sounds but the nervous fidgeting of the diamond dogs and the deep, easy breathing of the dragon staring them down.

“I lay claim to your Hoard-Heart, dragon, the first piece of your treasure. By the traditions of your kind, you will grant me an audience and one favor.”

Silence.

The great dragon’s head crept forward, somehow knowing exactly where the sapphire would be. It sniffed the gem delicately, before the cornets of its gilded lips turned down.

“Yesssss... that would be so... had you chossssen correctly. Thissss... trinket... be not the Heart of my Hearts...”

The dragon opened its maw further, a long, forked tongue sliding out. Balanced upon the very tip lay a smooth, polished pebble. It was the type of stone one would expect to encounter lying upon the side of the road, or just under the surface of a babbling brook. After a second, the tongue retreated again.

Ginger felt her stomach try and climb up her throat.

“The sssstart of any collection... issss often the mosssst unimpresssssive. Yet... alwayssss the clossssesssst to the heart. And I have been collecting for a long, long, time...” The gilded head rose as the dragon stretched to its full height. “You amussssse me, little pony. Far and between are the occasionssss I entertain guesssstsss... no matter how unwanted. And few sssstranger than you. I would hear the purpose of your quessssst. A sign of ressssspect... for a brave... but foolish pony.”

“Give back my momma and poppa!” squeaked a little voice.

Unbelievably, it was Zanza the little zebra, perched atop the head of a rather worried-looking Old Yeller. She shook a tiny striped hoof at the dragon, tears brimming at her eyes. “Give them back, you great... big... lizard!” The massive scaled face flinched away from her hoof, snout crinkling as though something spicy had crossed its nostrils. A harsh, sizzling hiss resonated across the cavern.

It took Ginger a moment to realize what was happening.

The dragon was laughing.

“Ssss-sss-sss-sss-sss...”

The Cinderwings shared an uncomfortable look. The grips upon various weapons were adjusted, hackles rose across the group like a wave. Ginger slowly unsheathed her sword, the arcanite blade ready to rip and tear.

“The little plainsssssdweller... she be the sssspawn of the two I found wandering my landsss... they too were brave in the faccce of peril.”

“Where are they, dragon? What have you done with them?” called Ginger, giving her blade a shaky flourish, more to calm her nerves than intimidate.

“My name is Lady Pyrite, pony... remember it well. Assss for the other plainsssdwellersss... they were sssent... to your... former pack-mate... from the wintry wasssstesss...”

“What!?” Ginger spun around. “Yeller, who is she talking about?”

The diamond dogs looked confused as she was. “Only two Cinderwings of the North breed. Ice wolves. Ghostclaws is one, and the other is —”

Ginger sucked in a breath. “Balto!?”

But... she had left Balto in charge back at camp, with Coconut and the other diamond dogs. How could the sullen mutt have already met the dragon? Or why, for that matter. Balto was always one of the capable Cinderwings. Secretive and sly, the wolfish diamond dog was the only one who had ever come close to taking Echo down and ascending to Beta. He had proven himself intelligent and showed a disposition for ruthless ambition unseen in any of the others.

Ambition...

Ginger recalled the lesson of her father and Mosspaw, a pair who had once called each other blood-brothers. So great was their desire for more power, they sacrificed what could have been a utopia in the rainforest to the black waters of the Styx and the fuels of their own thirst for greatness.

“Yesssss... I found thisss one poaching the prey of my territory... I would have killed him there... had he not offered show me where other prime ssssstock were. Ah, such a rarity, plainssssdwellerssss... they fetch a good price. I enssssslaved him too, of coursssse... and hissss imbecile lackey...”

Last night, Balto had been out unusually long. The more Ginger thought about it, the more the pieces fell into place. The diamond dog must have made a run for the hoard as soon as Ginger left, and would no doubt have beat them there, already knowing its location from dragon that dwelled within.

She’d been betrayed.

Again.

At least, this time, the treachery hadn’t been blatantly staring her in the face until she was powerless to stop it. She could not have planned for this.

Oh, wait. Plan B.

“Dra —” Ginger barely caught herself, inbetween labored breaths of a mighty rage that was threatening to break loose.. “Lady Pyrite. Where... is Balto now?” So I can find him and skin him and sell his coat for something worthless, she silently added.

“Roam. Ssssselling my waressss... bringing home more gold for the Long Sssssleep ahead.”

Despite the furnace of rage and hate roiling within her guts, Ginger’s extremities suddenly felt a chill. Even the Cinderwings behind her were disturbed.

Roam.

The last great slaving city. A dulled, bloodied gem, from an ancient crown that was once the splendor of the world; the Crystal Empire. It was remote as it was mysterious. Once a trading hub between the Empire and the distant gryphon eyries, it had become a place of legend and a symbol of older, colder times. After the Mad King Sombra had risen to power, the outpost had boomed into a slaver’s paradise, pumping stock to the insatiable gryphon clans. Far, far north, on the edge of the Feathercap Sea, it lay, a stain on the arctic wastes, encased in dirty ice and blackened snow, the frigid waters of the berg-ridden ocean the only means to reach it. Small wonder it continued to profit from the blood trade, so isolated and notorious it was. Only the insane dared travel there, not to mention the permanent residents.

Even she, growing up nearly isolated from the outside world, had heard stories. Stories that had made a little filly cower in fear through the night, desperately holding out for the light of dawn.

Ginger’s mind crunched. Lady Pyrite must have used the magic of her dragonfire to send him such a vast distance in such a short time. According to Echo, dragons could do all sorts of stuff like that.

“Now... I have delayed your deathsssss long enough. Give my regardsssss to the Grey Mare... when I ssssend you to Tartarusss.”

The gaping maw opened wide, revealing row after row of pony-sized fangs, and a hot light welling up at the back of a golden throat.

Oh, right. There was still the fire breathing monster to deal with. Ginger would take these new developments one step at a time.

They had a plan, after all.

Step one.

“Oh like hell you will!” she screamed, igniting her horn.

Take cover.

A solid wedge of rock ripped out of the stone in front of her, hiding her from the dragoness in the crook of a rough V-shape. She turned to her pack. “Don’t just stand there! Get behind me!” They did, scrambling forwards into the shelter.

A horrible noise, like the gurgling rush of a whirlpool. A dreadful pause. And then the world became golden fire, a mighty column of flame ripping from the draconic maw and slamming into her barrier, split in half by the wedge and curling away to the sides. Ginger sucked hot air, lungs burning from the sheer tempurature. If she was feeling the heat, no doubt her pack wouldn’t last very long.

With that in mind, she pivoted on her forehooves, channeled every ounce of magic she had into her hind legs, and bucked, ripping her stone barrier right out of the earth and sending it screaming through the flame, right into the mouth of a very suprised golden dragoness.

Step two...

“Attack! Attack!” she screeched. “Go for the gaps in her scales! Lassie, shoot for anything soft, don’t bother with the eyes, they’re useless anyway!”

...Counter strike; exploit weakness.

Like cannonballs out of the barrel, her diamond dogs sprang into action; Rin-Tin-Tin charging forwards to hack his new axe at gilded claws, Old Yeller wielding two spears at once to stab and tear at the wings, and — surprisingly — Vixen, in a rare display of bloodthirst, jumped right onto the scaled neck, clinging there by tooth and claw and stabbing viciously wherever possible with her daggers. Lassie stayed put on the painting, smoothly notching a barbed arrow in her longbow and sending it straight up a golden nostril. Beside the archer-dog, Entropy sprang into action, the wounded alicorn’s rainbow cloak billowing around him as he began hammering away with lances of pink magic.

Lady Pyrite roared her defiance, clawing angrily at the chunk of rock stuck in the back of her throat. She stomped back and forth, seeking to crush her nimble attackers underfoot. The earth shook with every movement as the Cinderwings fought on, knee deep in a shifting sea of treasure that grew with every blow to the encrusted hide.

“If I keep this up, soon I’m not gonna have enough juice to make the jump!” Entropy warned over the din of battle. “I just! Can’t do it, cap’n! I DON’T! HAVE! THE POWER!”

“Hold nothing back!” she ordered. “I have an idea to get us all out of here!”

“Improv!” Entropy nodded in agreement. “Now you’re thinking with portals!”

Ginger twirled her sword above her head and ran into the furious melee that had unfolded. She charged heedlessly onwards, hacking ruthlessly through shining scales and gems as she weaved between the shuddering columns that made up the dragoness’ legs. Somehow, she emerged onto the other side, having run straight underneath the writhing beast.

Something whistled through the air. She ducked — just in time — as the mighty tail whipped overhead, slamming into the ground nearby.

Step three...

Ginger plunged her sword right into the end of the tail, where the scales were soft and young, so hard her blade burrowed hilt-deep into the rock underneath.

...Immobilize.

The dragoness screamed in pain, so loud the Cinderwings had to cover their ears. Pebbles and coins danced across the stone ground.

“CURSSSE YOU PONY! A THOUSSSAND LIVESSS OF SSSUFFERING ARE NOT PUNISHMENT ENOUGH FOR THAT!”

Crimson lifeblood gushed outwards as the pinned limb tried to rip away from the grip of the sword, but its bite was too deep, and held fast into the bedrock.

Perfect.

Ginger left it there, galloping onto the trapped tail and running up, up, up! Soon she was swerving between spines, gripping them ferociously with her teeth as the dragon bucked and heaved beneath her hooves.

No amount of struggling could dissuade her. The fires of rage sang hot through her blood, and only revenge would quench the burning thirst. She ascended higher and high, until she pulled herself up to the flat of the draconic skull, holding on to the two horns that jutted out from either side for dear life.

“Daring!” she cried. “Daring Do, where are you!?”

The pegasus had been circling high above with the remaining saddlebag and Zanza riding on her shoulders, out of range and out of sight. At the cry, she zoomed down into the action, narrowly avoiding being gored by a slashing claw. “Whaddaya need, hon!”

“Saddlebag — ngh! Give it here!”

“Plan B!” Daring smoothly executed a loop-de-loop, flinging the solitary item on a dead shot to Ginger. She caught it with her magic, opening it up and peering inside.

“You ready to play, big guy?!”

Inside the impossibly large container, at the center of a heaping pile of junk, a single diamond dog looked up at her from where he was sitting down on a cushion with a thick book. With a sigh, he heaved himself up by his staff and threw his green hood over his head, before rolling his shoulders and cracking his bandaged paws.

“We need to go to Roam, okay! Roam!”

Echo just looked at her like she was crazy.

“Don’t want to hear your sass, just do it!”

Step Four...

Her magic reached in, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, and yanked him out of the saddlebag, the diamond dog landing unsteadily beside her and bracing himself on the other horn. She slung the saddle bag over her own flank and prepared to jump off. “BACK OFF!” she screamed to the Cinderwings below, and they did.

Echo held out his paw and she twisted her head to it. Rough, bandaged skin gripped her horn uncertainly. The unpleasant feeling sent shivers through her spine.

“I’m going to regret saying this, but give me everything you’ve got.”

Oh, she’d been waiting for an excuse to let it out. Her teeth grit, ever muscle in her body clenched as she unleashed the floodgates, a tide of hot magic surging out of her and into him. So potent was the transfer that his wrappings began to smoulder, and every hair of fur on his body spiked out. Just when she thought she was spent, another barrier was broken down, and even more sizzling energy was mustered forth. It was do or die.

Finally, the current turned to a trickle. Ginger was spent, absolutely spent, not a drop of magic left in her. She slumped against the horn, panting heavily.

Echo, meanwhile, looked fit to burst, crackles of magical electricity running over his body. His eyes were wide, shining a hot pink, a surprised expression on his face. He gave her a worried look.

Ginger wheezed, “don’t... worry... about... me.” Her grip on the horn loosened, she began to slide off. “Just... get us to Roam!”

Lady Pyrite convulsed again, and suddenly there was nothing but empty air before her.

She had a seconds to register the weightlessness, embracing it like an old friend. Through her ever-blurring vision, a pink shape appeared, wings outstretched. Something wrapped around her chest. She felt like she recognized that tight grip. Cloud Nine?

Meanwhile high above, Echo held a single bandaged paw to the ceiling, sparks of arcane current crackling along his fingertips, before slamming it down in the crater where the massive sapphire had once adorned Lady Pyrite’s head. A silent shockwave issued from the epicenter. It washed over her in a warm wave. Was that somepony screaming?

The world exploded silver.

And then...

...nothing.

“ — WHOAWHOAWHOAWHOAWHOA!”

“WHA-HA-HA!”

A rush of green, pulling and sucking away, unwilling to relinquish the grip on her... but it lost struggle, and everything was unbearably bright. A carpet of yellows and greens and browns splattered the world below, cut through by lazy slash of glittering river water.

Ginger was suddenly aware of how very, very high up she was.

“...E-e-eeeeep!” she squealed.

The pair of pink forelimbs softly crushing her sides shuddered in amusement. “Ha-ha! Calm down, hon! Ha! I gotcha, I gotcha!”

“Clooouuuud...I’m gonna fall...” Ginger whimpered. Just don’t look down, just don’t look down, don’t look down and she’d be fine. She clamped her eyes shut. A grinning face rubbed against the terrified unicorn’s. She could feel that blasted smirk ever through the wind and vertigo.

“Ginger, look at me,” said Cloud Nine.

Ginger creaked a single eye open to the side. Goddesses, did Cloud look amazing with the wind ripping through her mane.

“Do you trust me?”

“...Yes?”

“I will not let you fall. I will catch you. That’s as good as fact. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

“Now... see this? All around? This is what I see. This is a better angle.”

Hesitantly, Ginger peeked away from the one thing preventing her from plummeting a thousand feet to her doom. “H’oh sweet baby back buffalos...”

What she saw took her breath away.

It was the void itself that had the biggest presence, the sheer yawning emptiness of open sky stretching out in all directions. She could see the very curve of the world itself, a gentle green arc kissing the distant edges of azure horizon.

There, on the ground, a scattering of huts and worn pathways.

She held up a single hoof, squinting as she peered down her leg. It swallowed up the entire village of Wethoof, obliterating every trace of ponykind from the rainforest in an instant. She pulled it back. “Whoa...”

Cloud gently banked into a tailwind and they picked up some speed, coming up alongside swathe of clouds.

Ginger watched in awe as those wonderfully soft pink feathers cut right through the wispy clouds, curling away off the leading edge of the wing like smoke. There was a sudden twist, the sun stared her in the face — she blinked confusedly back at it — and then she was skimming across the cloudscape, dragging her hooves through a wonderfully cool haze.

“This... this is amazing!” she cried, throwing her legs wide as if she had wings of her own.

“Oh, it gets better!”

PHWOOM-PHWOOM-PHWOOM-PHWOOM-PHWOOM!

Acceleration. Raw power seized her and hurled her decidedly up, clinging helplessly to the chest of a cackling pegasus. “Heeheheheheheeeeeeeee-!” Ginger felt her face pull back, her eyes watering as they rocketed even higher, until the air grew cold and dry, the sky began to darken, and little bits of frost began appearing in her coat and mane.

Were those stars? Had they really come that high? They seemed so close, like she could reach out and touch one.

It was here, at the very roof of the word, Cloud Nine snapped her icing wings tight and sent them back the way they’d come.

It was... obscenely peaceful after the initial sickening lurch of gravity. There was just wind in her ears, and a wonderful sensation of weightlessness. Ginger squirmed about in the powerful grasp, twisting about until she and her mare were face to face.

Spiraling headfirst from the limits of high sky, emerald met rose, and her fires roared all the fiercer, ablaze with warmth and adrenaline.

Their lips met, and Ginger felt no more fear.

Only love.

Where am I?

She was drifting, that much could be certain.

There was only a deep blackness, soft as silk and as encompassing as a lover's embrace. It went in all directions; up, down, left, right. She turned to see if it extended behind her as well, when she realized that she had not actually moved, and yet the sensation of motion was felt.

Her body had been left behind. Wherever she was, whatever she was, it seemed that matter had no purpose. She had no heart nor brain, yet she lived and thought. She simply was. Unbounded consciousness.

Is this death? she wondered to herself. The silent dark made no reply. Is this the next life? Only her own thoughts provided the singular source of a disturbance.

It was very peaceful, to say the least...

...Too bad she wasn’t in the mood to go out quietly.

“Echo! What did you do!?” Ah, she had a voice, and it worked just fine. Excellent. Now a certain someone could get the proper tongue lashing they deserved.

It was as if a switch had been thrown.

She felt form return to herself, and suddenly she was there, not everyplace at once. She looked with eyes and saw, twitched with legs and felt, pumped blood with a heart and lived.

A presence materialized to her side, slowly coalescing into something huge, golden and hulking. Gems sparkled in the darkness amidst the dull gleam of golden scales.

Blinking in the emptiness, Lady Pyrite looked just as confused as she was. The blind dragoness seemed to know she was not alone, however.

“What sssorcery be thisss...?” rumbled the great beast. Not an ounce of aggression laced the deep voice, nor did her posture express intention of continuing the fight. “Pony...I sssenssse you... hear your little heart beating... explain thyssself...”

Ginger, too, found it impossible to be hostile, the simmering furnace that usually boiled just below sight within her ran cold and empty.

“I... I don’t know,” she finally said. “I mean, I thought I knew. This was supposed to be our last resort, the ace in the hole if everything went sour. I have a packmate who... can do things, can go inside your head.”

One of the dragoness’ eyebrows raised. “Yesss... I felt... someone prying at my thoughts... before everything collapsed...”

“Yeah, we thought if he had enough power, he could try and mind control you. It was a blind shot in the dark.” She awkwardly laughed, glancing at those milky orbs gazing off to the distance. “No offense.”

“Sss-sss-sss-sss-sss. None taken. But... your effortsss have failed, it ssseemsss, for I am under no rule but my own. But — wait. Pony, sssomething approachesss...”

Indeed, something was coming closer. Ginger could make out nothing but the ebony void, spreading in all directions.

Except...

There.

Below, a small shape, a slender spike, capped by a soft light. It was slowly coming closer.

And closer.

Ginger realized it wasn’t so small at all. It was enormous.

Then, it was upon them.

That tiny star of light was only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. In this case, it was actually a huge spiralling horn, deepest of blacks, rising higher and higher like a tower soaring from the depths of the ocean. It dwarfed her, it dwarfed Lady Pyrite, it dwarfed anything she’d ever seen or imagined.

The horn broadened, and the monolithic creature it belonged to surfaced from the depths of infinity. Trailing behind it came a curtain of cosmos; red giants and supernovae, galaxies and black holes, a riot of colors and light and heat. Awash with the stellar wind, it rippled out as far as could be seen.

Two planet-sized eyes opened, as bright and harsh as truth. Like searchlights, they cast their beams onto her, staring into her very soul. She felt impossibly safe under its gaze, and yet terrified of what that meant.

“Ec-cho,” she choked out through small breaths. “What have you done?”

"Joined into the game. I play my queen,” came the reply, and she whirled around to find him there, or at least something like him, something twisted and warped, a cross between diamond dog and other. "Check."

The thing that was Echo and yet not Echo adjusted his hood with mismatched paws, one huge and bandaged, the other nimble and bony. Fur had fallen out in places, revealing smooth, pale skin underneath. He had developed a hunchback, and limped towards them on a thin, twisted leg. She could not see his face, and for that she was strangely glad, for no doubt it was just as hideous as the rest of him had become.

“Welcome to the Dreamtime, Ginger. Lady Pyrite. This is the place where everything that ever has been, is, or will be, is created,” he said calmly, disembodied voice humming mournfully across the vastness of space.

“You know about this place...?” Ginger wondered, staring in awe at the great entity before them.

“Oh, yes. First time I came here, it was an accident. Nearly died in the process... but I learned how to come back. She taught me,” he said, pointing a slender paw at the titan. “She is known to all as Creator, but I call her Galaxia. She's... a friend of mine, I suppose. Taught me how to play chess, at least. She is here to keep the peace and witness.”

The frankenpony of a creature that he was drifted past her, to the dragoness, whom had been silent this whole time, observing in the way that only the blind can.

“May I?” he asked of her.

Lady Pyrite hesitated, sightless eyes flicking towards the general direction of the thing called Galaxia. The deistic presence was enough to instill obedience, though it was a hard fight. But she dipped her head, long forked tongue sliding out. Echo gently took the smooth pebble off the tip of this, holding it reverently.

After a time, he nodded to himself and put it back.

“Thank you for sharing,” he said kindly.

“You jussst held the very ssoul of a dragon... and sssought no boon for it,” wondered the Lady. “What manner of creature are you...?”

He shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that. In truth, I’m not so sure anymore. It shows apparently.” He patted himself on the misformed stomach. “But enough about me. I have brought you both here for the one thing neither of you thought worth your time, that you might turn this into a profitable situation I think everyone can benefit from.

“Diplomacy.”

Ginger and her scaly counterpart experienced a simultaneous rise of skepticism.

“With her?”

“With her...?”

Presiding over them all, the corner of one pair of lips curled upwards in the slightest.

“Yes,” said Echo. “Both of you possess something the other needs.”

The only sound was the gentle thrum of the universe as it wove through the endless abyss. He seemed to take that as a sign to continue.

“M’lady. My Alpha, Ginger, is in dire straits. It seems you’ve swayed a compatriot of mine to defect, and along with him went our caravan and half our number, not to mention our pack's reputation and hope of ever uniting the diamond dogs under a single banner. You have the ability to send us after him, and greatly assist in our other effort.”

Lady Pyrite blew steam in a snort of dismissal. “Petty... mortal... affairsss. I am above such mattersss. What hasss yonder pony that I would not already possesss?”

“Friendship,” Echo replied, and he was completely serious.

“...What.” was all Ginger could manage.

“Despite a lifetime of collecting wealth and land and slaves, you have never found that one thing that would sate your desires. I know for a fact that your hoard will never fill that burning hole in you. You might wear it in your scales, but I know better. The proof is in your hoard-heart. A simple pebble. Someone probably gave it to you, long ago, didn’t they?”

The dragoness face bared in a snarl, but her tone was civil. “Yesss... how did you know?”

“Because I know someone like you, m’lady, and he taught me that the greatest of treasures are not those taken, but given. If you accompany us in our journey, you shall only ever need that pebble and nothing else, until the end of time. We have what you’ve been seeking, m’lady. We live it every day. We can give you friendship... the gift that keeps on giving.”

Ginger could no longer contain herself. “Echo, you bastard, that’s completely idiotic!”

And yet, the dragoness seemed uncertain of herself.

“A lifetime of sssinsss againssst ponykind... and you would welcome me? I have tortured... ssstolen... dessstroyed... enssslaved.”

Echo merely spread his warped arms wide. “So have I, in a fashion. So we can relate. It will be hard, m’lady, I will not lie. You will have to earn, there can be no taking. But I would be your first, the first of a new hoard. One where laughter and love are the showpieces, and the only true currency is as valuable as you make it. I’ll be your friend, even if nobody else won’t. Because we’re alike, you and I, more than the others know.”

“How...?”

Echo fingered a small golden compass dangling from his neck by a chain, the only thing unaltered in his appearance. “...Sentimentality, for one.”

Ginger stepped forward. “You can’t be serious. You’re going to forgive her? For the horrible things we saw back there in the cave? Did you see what she’d done to her slaves? She killed them all!”

“On the contrary, I already have. And I also forgave you, Ginger Snap, for leaving somepony dear to me out in the mud to die, for racism, for your own stubborn pride, for taking part in a genocide, and for covering up the delusions of your insane father. If you have changed, then so can she.”

That stung. More than she thought it would. But still she dug in, unwilling in the slightest. “No, this is ridiculous! The others will never accept it. Daring will never accept it!"

"Your pack will do as you command, and I will meet any would challenge that. As for Daring..." he paused, then sighed wearily. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

"I can’t possibly —” she started.

“—Done.”

The golden dragon seemed to shiver, and gems began to fall off her like a rain, as her form began to condense, shrinking down with the creaking of bones and grinding of scales.

When the shower ceased, a much smaller, slender dragoness remained in her place, standing almost uncertainly on all fours before him. Small crystals remained studded in her golden figure, and a brilliant sapphire appeared on her brow where before there was only a gaping crater. Her elegant horns barely allowed her to pass him in height.

She held up a claw.

“I have nothing to lossse,” she said, in a voice that no longer shook the air with age and size. “Though be thisss some deception... and I will end your life.”

“Get in line,” Echo answered dryly. Somewhere within the shadow of his hood, a raspy whisper of a chuckle could be heard.

They shook.

Above, Galaxia smiled as two monsters forged an unlikely alliance. A warm, silky wind began to blow, ruffling Ginger’s mane. She blew a strand of mane out of her eyes, looking on in disbelief.

Once again, the blasted mutt had defied her, outsmarted her, and defeated her. Once again, she lost nothing but a blow to the pride, but gained much, much more.

Ginger Snap scowled to herself as the galactic winds wiped them away with a gentle flash of light.

Victory never tasted worse.

Achievement Unlocked! - "With Friends Like These, Who Needs Anemones?"
Level Up! - Ginger Snap

-New Talent: Earthbending: Sometimes, flamethrowers can't solve your problems. Sometimes, you just need to crush something into the dust with a big old mountaintop, or ride a rock off into the sunset to deliver pizza, just like the pioneers. You have become proficient in the art of earth-style elemental magic. Go metamorphic or go home.

-New Perk: Temper Tolerance (+3 all resistances, +1 int): Living in a state of near psychotic rage since you started hanging around with these idiots has given you an incredibly large resistance to aneurysms, allowing you to think clearly even in the heart of your wildest tantrums. However, you should really see a doctor about that high blood pressure.
Ally Gained! - Lady Pyrite

-Perk: Dragon: She's a fucking dragon, that's perk enough. That shit's OP as balls, man.
Ally (sort of) Gained! - the Creator, AKA: "Galaxia"

-Perk: ???: ???
Region Discovered: The Dreamtime

[II - Fourth] Winter Is Coming

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ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE FOURTH

In which Love transcends the White Knight’s shattered heart...

The Lost One

Snow had begun to fall.

Trudging through the shadowy underworld, the weary soul felt the first of the flakes land upon the tip of his nose. He licked it off with his small pink tongue, so parched that he was willing to slake his thirst from the most insignificant sources. It tasted bitter and acrid. Was this what snow was supposed to be like?

His gaze roved the upper reaches, vainly trying to pierce the misty veil. He was underground. And yet, small wispy flakes continued to flutter down from above.

He decided that he hated caves.

They had been traveling for what seemed days, eternally marching in this one direction, only deviating when a mighty stone pillar loomed out of the dark mists. The stone they marched upon was cold and wet, here and there splattered with sickly phosphorescent mosses. He did not avoid stepping on these, though they left an unpleasant burn on his hooves.

He did not mind the pain.

It was the only thing keeping him from shattering. The one anchor to normality he had left, the single sensation that cemented the fact into his brain; I am here.

He was not floating away on the heavenly wind, or burning in the fires of the core, or even dissolving into the earth and rocks and trees. He was very much a dead pony, but the pain reminded him he still existed. His soul still thrummed within his chest, alongside his cold, silent heart. That was comfort enough to press forward, following the strange beast that led him ever onwards.

“Where are we going?” he asked his guide. His words felt thick and slurred, and they dragged on his throat like sandpaper as he rasped them out.

The hulking figure didn’t even turn around. “To seek an audience with the Warden.”

“And that would be...?”

“She who holds dominion over this plane. All souls must pass through Tartarus to reach their final destination as she Judges them; be it further down to the lower depths, another cycle of rebirth, or to the stars — where their fate is unknown even to me.” Ahuitzotl chuckled darkly. “And for good reason.”

The unicorn slogged on, head drooping low. “Oh.”

He let the sounds of conversation fade away into the ebon emptiness, letting himself be absorbed by the sound of hooves and claws scratching against stone and moss.

The faint little spark of heat inside him gave off a weak shiver. Scowling, he blinked and let the dim glow of his magic sputter and die. He didn’t bother to try re-igniting it; the moss shed enough light to see by.

Soon they came to a wall, looming out of the mists with the sudden presence that only something large and stealthy could deliver. There was a jagged gash running up from the bottom, wide enough for Ahuitzotl to squeeze into with little difficulty. The guide vanished into the gloom of the passage.

He stood on the threshold, unsure. A hoof nervously scratched at the ground.

Ahuitzotl’s head popped back out. “Come, little pony. We’re not far now.” It vanished again, trailing an echo behind it, “Mind your steps, to fall from here and not even your Princess would dare venture down after your scrawny soul!”

The unicorn peered into the gap beneath the stone. It was narrow, with rough walls that were also stained here and there with luminescent growth, which lit up the faint mist that seemed to permeate everything down here.

He scoffed at himself for being so cowardly. He hated feeling weak. The passage swallowed him whole as he stepped inside, but he could not resist a look back to the vast cavern of stone trees.

For a split second, he could have sworn he’d seen a faint streak of... of something, ducking out of view. Nothing more than a flash of scarlet and fire in the dark.

His mind grasped at straws. That thing, whatever it had been, struck him as uncomfortably familiar. On the very tip of his tongue...

He made to step forward, squinting in the half-light.

“Hurry it up!” came the receding roar of the blue beast.

He shook his head irritatedly, then spun about and cantered in after.

The narrow channel through the rock had led them quite a distance, before the suffocating walls peeled away as they entered yet another cavern. The path before them continued forwards, though, as a thin strip of stone spanning an empty void.

By the entrance was a natural balcony, where they had stopped to rest briefly before traversing the perilous gap. Ahuitzotl was busy kneading his claws on the rock, each clench causing the stone to wretchedly rasp, as if the earth itself were whimpering with pain from his presence inside it.

“Once we gain the bridge, it is important to move with haste and stealth,” the beast grunted.

The unicorn peered over the edge, a cold breeze wafting up from below to tickle the fur on his face. Spindly, crooked towers of rock held the crumbling bridge on high, though for how much longer he could not guess. “Why?” he quietly asked.

“Down there is the Pit. There, it is the coldest... the blackest... and farthest from the light. Such creatures whom call that cursed place home are far older and more dangerous than I.” Ahuitzotl actually seemed uncomfortable by this admission, the first actual expression he’d ever seen on the guide’s face. “And to disturb their slumber would be most unwise.”

“I see.” He gave another glance at the dizzying drop, before taking a firm step backwards.

Ahuitzotl narrowed his predatory eyes. “No. You haven’t. And be grateful for that mercy.”

“I don’t want your mercy.” He stared right back, unflinching.

They locked gazes with the other, a crackle of tension almost palpable in the space between the two. Finally, Ahuitzotl’s lip curled up with distaste, and he blinked. “Fall behind, and get left behind.”

The beast lurched into motion, brushing past him and onto the bridge.

Snorting to himself, the unicorn crept after, moving slowly so as not to create the characteristic clip-clop of hooves on stone.

The path was even narrower than before, so much so that he felt he’d have some difficulty just turning himself around, should the need ever arise. His tail swished nervously, but his doubts were buried under an iron resolve.

Just one step after the other, he thought.

Easier said than done.

He tried not to look down. He really did. The void seemed to swell up on either side of him, forcing him to stare at everything but where he was going. He felt himself slow to a stop. Shuddering, the unicorn fought off a wave of vertigo-induced nausea.

A trembling hoof was raised, but quickly sank back down along with its owner as he pressed himself to the ground.

“Nggghh...” he suppressed the urge to whimper.

Not like this.

Not here.

Death hadn’t stopped him.

But this?

There was nothing but stone and blackness as far as the eye could see. Encompassing him, surrounding him, choking him with the presence of shadow. His pupils narrowed to pinpricks, breath racing shallowly through his cold lungs. If he’d a heartbeat, it probably would have been racing.

This was hell.

He hated caves. He hated the deep, dark places of the world, and the secrets its shadows hid even more so. He could tell it was a furious dislike born of fear, a sickening churning in his gut that made him want to turn and bolt, here, there, anywhere but here. What was it that made him so afraid? Why could he remember nothing from... before?

Ahead, Ahuitzotl was nearly halfway across, his long, decapitated tail twitching occasionally as he slunk with a feline grace that belied his impressive size.

“W-wait...” he whispered as loudly as he dared.

The guide made no such move, or even indicated the message had been received.

The unicorn gritted his teeth, narrowed his eyes, and through sheer willpower, forced himself to take another step.

At that instant, a wet, fetid gust of wind howled up from the depths, accompanied by a distant thunder. He staggered, buffeted about by the sudden breeze.

His hoof met empty air.

The void opened wide to swallow him whole as he pitched forwards off the edge, teeth of stone ready to snap shut and seal him away forever.

No.

Not like this!

A cold rage spread from within his chest, a tidal wave of frozen magma that surged upwards. He viciously twisted himself mid-air, throwing out a desperate grab for the bridge.

His hoof locked into the stone, and he nearly screamed with agony from the wrenching of his shoulder as he came to a screeching halt. His breath caught in his chest, gasping weakly as he tried his damndest not to look down. If he looked down he was done for.

He dangled by a weakening grip, swinging gently back and forth over the stygian chasm.

“Ahuitzotl,” he hissed. “Help me!”

The blue beast looked back, this time, eyebrow raised, upper lip curled upwards into a sneer. That great head shook from side to side. “Help yourself,” the creature hissed back. With that, he turned away and continued over the treacherous spar of rock.

The unicorn stared, open-mouthed, as his companion vanished into the mists.

Another rumbling of thunder from down below. It sounded like it was getting closer. He was in no particular hurry to find out what was making it.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

He had to save himself, and he needed to do it yesterday.

“Hhhgh!” With monumental effort, a second hoof joined its brother on the edge. He pulled and heaved, back legs kicking wildly. Inch by inch, he squirmed and dragged himself up onto the narrow bridge. He had almost gotten his chest halfway up when something inside of him exploded.

A terrible, frigid ache, from the nape of his neck to the bottom of his stomach, like he was being ripped in half with a blade of jagged glacier ice.

Something slithered across his lower leg.

He screamed, all pretenses of stealth and secrecy forgotten in the face of such incredible pain and terror.

The grip on his leg tightened, hungrily dragging him back from the edge. His hooves skidded across the stone, eating up the distance he’d fought so hard to win. A savage yank, and he was all but pitched into the void yet again.

He scrabbled desperately, seeking to lay a hold onto something, anything. But the Pit wanted him. The thing dragging him down, sensed his desperation, and redoubled its efforts.

What could he do?

What could he do!?

Summoning the the last reserve of strength he had left, he whipped his head around, squeezed his eyes shut, and ignited the little spark from before, a sudden harsh glare spewing forth from his horn.

For the first time in all of creation, a single, wavering light shone down upon the deepest, blackest, coldest Pit of Tartarus.

A terrible screech emanated forth, the monster within defiled by the flickering grace. He did not look, he did not dare to look, only hold on for dear life and pour everything he had into and out of his horn.

Slithering and hissing, something big thrashing about. A choking, predatory roar, hot spittle spraying his undersides.

His tired, burnt hooves, simply lacking the strength to do anything but hold on.

Rancid breath on the nape of his neck. The Pit’s stony teeth, rising out of the darkness to drag him back down.

His spark finally sputtered out and died, the darkness all around rushing back in to meet him within and without.

Something cold and wet ran down his cheeks.

“Don’t you dare give up on me!”

Time seemed to slow. His eyes opened. He looked up.

Twin pools of spring gazed fiercely back from behind a curtain of wild, electric orange, softly glowing in the gloom. Their owner was hunched on the ledge before him, almost translucent, her ghostly body stained all over the color of deepest blood. On her side was a horrible scar, where the ribs seemed to have indented from some ghastly impact.

“I never gave up on you. Not then, not now, not ever. Phfft!” She blew out of the corner of her mouth, blowing away a wayward strand of mane from her face. “So don’t you even think about it!”

There was something in those eyes and in her velvet voice that he couldn’t place. Some glimmer of knowing that filled him with a gentle warmth, perfectly filling up a gaping hole inside him he hadn’t even known was empty.

“I... I know you,” he realised with a weak gasp, still gently swaying over his doom. “But I don’t remember. Why!?”

“Time for that later!” She responded by leaning over him and grabbing him by the scruff of his neck with her mouth. She smelled like smoke, sweat, and summer. “Ho’ om an’ puph!” she said through a mouthful of him.

He did as she asked, finding a new strength pumping through his veins, a something roaring in his ears. The Pit slithered up him once again, but he beat it back with wild kicks. Pain blossomed in his chest again, but this time she was there to help him.

They rolled back over the edge, panting and gasping. She pulled herself on top of him and put him into an encompassing embrace. “Keep going,” she told him with a whisper in his ear, “I’ll be waiting for you at the end.”

“Who... are you?” he wheezed.

“Somepony who loves you.” Her weight vanished, and suddenly he was alone again.

“No, wait! I have to know! I have to remember!” He scrambled up, nearly falling off once again. But she had gone, vanishing as suddenly as she had appeared. The fading sensation on his coat where she had touched him was all that was left. “Please...”

He was alone.

A roar of anger sounded from below.

Well, not entirely alone.

He sniffed and wiped at his face, giving one last glance around, before turning tail and galloping as fast as he dared after Ahuitzotl.

“You left me,” he said tersely once he had caught up to his wayward guide.

The path had led through another jagged cleft in the rock, winding and twisting through the fungus-lit darkness like a thunderbolt carved out of the stone. This time, though, it had opened into a large tunnel... and something... unexpected.

Deep beneath the surface, another world had taken root to bloom

Strange, phosphorescent plants covered every surface of the cave they traveled. Enormous mushrooms stretched high above like trees, a constant sprinkling of shining dust raining down from these, making the air itself seem to glow. Here and there a skittering in the underbrush — odd little crab creatures darted underhoof, snipping and clacking at each other and the intruders to their realm. They followed another river of light down the center of the tunnel, this one filled with playful fish whose bones could be seen through their scales, and the banks were soft and less abusive to his burning hooves.

The path soon led them across the river, to the other side of the wide tunnel. After a time, Ahuitzotl made an abrupt turn, following an offshoot of the waters and delving into one of the many passages that spiderwebbed every which way. Some boulders had fallen to block the way, but he dug his paws into the earth and shouldered them aside.

Crystals began to appear in the walls as they traveled down this new path, tiny little dew drops of color in the black rock. Some blue, some red, some green; there were even colors he had no name for, ones that made him grasp at straws for the lost knowledge.

The burning in his hooves had dulled to an ache, the mossy ground they trod upon no longer paining him as much as before. He wished otherwise. The reprieve let his mind drift to other, darker things, things that began to weigh heavily upon him.

The air had become warm and moist, humming with the activity of the small things of life. Harsh, shrill cries would warble down from the ceiling from time to time. He could not see what made them, the mushroom tops blocked his view.

“I did,” Ahuitzotl simply replied. “What of it?”

The tunnel they traveled followed no particular path, and had even crossed here and there with other passages, connecting from all angles, each with their own tiny forest within. The blue beast seemed to know his way, though, and the unicorn was loathe to anger his only key to this strange puzzle.

“You should have helped. I could have —”

“Fallen? You’ve already done that.” Ahuitzotl chuckled darkly. “Best accept it; you’re scum, pony. Like me.”

He bristled. “So then why didn’t you help?!”

The beast ducked under an overhanging vine. “Only the strong survive. If you could not face the Pit alone, you would be of no use to me, or her. I do not tolerate weaklings.”

It was probably a good idea to keep mum about the one who had helped him. Her. He felt a strange tickle in his stomach whenever he relieved to moment.

“Strength in numbers,” he retorted irritably.

“A herd is made of individuals, pony,” was the calculated reply.

“You should have helped me,” he insisted.

“You helped yourself, despite the fear you still reek of. Even cowards can show some gumption, I suppose.”

That did it.

He broke into a gallop, sprinting around the lumbering giant and planted himself in the path, blocking the way with a scowl and stomp of frustration.

“You can’t be serious.” Ahuitzotl raised an eyebrow.

An angry hoof scored through the earth, its owner snorting twin tendrils of cold vapor out his nose. “Take. That. Back.”

“Stars above, you’re serious. You stupid, stupid fool.” Ahuitzotl dropped into a hunting crouch, his huge bulk tensing like a coiled spring. “I killed you once, don’t make me do it again.”

An eerie silence descended over the subterranean thicket, aside from the echoing burbles of the river and the measured breaths of the cat lord.

“W-what?” the unicorn stammered, taking a step back. “You...” he glanced down at his chest, the horrible scar running from groin to neck. “You did this!?”

Ahuitzotl slid forward, teeth bared. “Aye, that be the work of my claw. It was easy, too, like cutting through soft, newborn flesh.” He began to circle, the stump at the end of his tail flicking to and fro.

“Would you like to know how you died?”

He did not answer. There was no way to describe the hollowness that had come upon him.

“I’ll tell you, you sniveling, pathetic waste of my time. You squealed. Afraid of your own sins to the last. Even your blood tasted like fear.” Ahuitzotl licked his fangs with a forked tongue, eyes flashing with evil intent. “Even now...”

“No...”

The unicorn stumbled, falling back onto his haunches, rapid breaths hitching in his throat. Ahuitzotl loomed over him, and he was helpless in his shadow. A single, massive blue paw closed around his throat and pulled, lifting him straight off the ground as he twitched weakly in the vice-like grip.

“You are here for a reason. Only those with business unfinished or possession of souls warped and sickly linger here for long. And you, little pony, have little more than a broken chip left of yours.”

He was slammed brutally down onto his back, the breath leaving his lungs in an instant as another blue paw reaching over to shove his head over the riverbank. Water closed in, cold and tingling to the touch. Bubbles poured out through the gaps between fingers as he struggled for air.

His throat convulsed as he sucked in a heave of water. It spilled over his tongue, searing his teeth and dragging claws all the way down his gullet. Darkness closed in, his limbs began to still their thrashing.

His mind whirled. Why did the water taste so familiar?

Then, relief.

Ahuitzotl wrenched him out of the river and held him high again, now dripping and gagging on the foul taste in his mouth. “You made one too many deals with the River, pony,” growled the beast. “The Styx shattered you from the inside out. You broke your soul for power, for hatred, and for a fool’s dream. Now, so little you have, there is nothing left to break. You are an echo of a whisper in the wind. You. Are. Nothing.”

“Bite me,” he rasped.

The stallion was cast clear across the cave, hitting the opposite wall and leaving a trail of grime and water as he slid down to a whimpering heap, back to the stone.

Ahuitzotl wasn't done with him yet.

An enormous blue fist cratered his skull into the rock wall behind him. His eyes rolled, his cheek shattered, teeth splintered in their gums. The pain was overwhelming, he felt himself pushed almost to the brink of what his mind could take. When it pulled back, fragments of bone and gristle dribbled from his mouth.

“C-call that a p-unch...?”

He wasn’t sure why he said it. Crazy from the pain, maybe some maddened part of him that had been left behind was finally surfacing. He was just tired of it all, he couldn’t even die in peace.

“No,” drawled Ahuitzotl.

An azure meteor hammered him in the chest, knocking all the dust off him with the sheer force. His chest crumpled, his breath was blown clean out of him yet again as he rolled and bounced away, every jolt sending explosions of agony through him. He felt the little spark inside him shudder as he rolled to his hooves, gasping.

And it hurt. Ye gods above, did it hurt. The beast descended upon him again, raining pain and suffering down with wanton abandon, fists striking like sledgehammers. He felt one of his legs give way, and before he could fall he had been punted down the tunnel once again, leaving a bloody streak as he slid to a halt.

His shattered face pressed painfully onto the floor. Somehow, hooves planted itself down, struggling to raise their owner.

They never had the chance.

The final blow took his spine with it. Something akin to a bullet train landed squarely below his shoulder blades. There was no pain this time, only the sudden deadening of everything past his stomach. The rancid smell of bile and waste filled the air as his bowels loosed.

He cracked open an eye, blinking away tears of salt and blood. The great blue monster stood over him, poised to deliver a killing blow.

Just past his shoulder, a shade of crimson could be seen through the glowing plants. She was there, watching, unreadable and incredibly beautiful all at once.

Don’t you give up on me.

As if he had a choice.

He let out a ragged yell. Every fiber of his what was left of his being rushed through broken bones and out his horn.

A cone of magic surrounded the spire, then another ignited on top of it, followed by another, and still more, the layers of overglow piling up and compounding their effect tenfold.

Ahuitzotl's fist visibly thundered down upon the pale auras not an inch away, a ripple of energy spreading outwards across these like water on a pond, before they dissolved away into the air. The beast rebounded back, holding his stinging paw.

Despite everything, the unicorn smiled dazedly. Something was stirring deep inside and it felt... warm.

Ahuitzotl unsheathed his claws, ready to smite the stallion for his arrogance, when he realized the gaze was not directed at him. The beast spun, but saw nothing. When he turned again to finish it, he saw that he was not alone.

An alicorn sat calmly next to the broken pony splattered across the cave floor. She was tall and willowy, her coat incredibly pale beneath a heavy robe the color of smoke, the mane pouring from underneath her hood dark and translucent, like ink poured underwater. A shattered spire of a horn glistened in the half-light of the subterranean forest, snapped off near the base. Hazel eyes glared evenly at him from under this, unfathomable, all-knowing.

Ahuitzotl uttered a profane curse, before kneeling down before her.

The alicorn gave him a stern glare. “What have I told you about playing with your food?”

“Apologies, Warden.”

The stallion on the floor gargled, passing from something that looked like a punctured lung from out his throat. He was past feeling pain, there was only the comfort of the closing darkness.

Warden looked down upon him pityingly. She lowered a pale wing, weak and withered from lack of use, the feathers fading from sight towards the tips. This she brushed across his form, and dull cracking noises filled the air as bones were shunted back into place, organs re-inflating and the blood ceasing to pour. The unicorn spasmed senselessly as feeling returned to his lower body.

His eye not pressed to the ground roved, ignoring the alicorn and the kneeling hulk of a monster. He searched across the river, desperately hoping to glean just another flash of scarlet. Where had she gone?

Warden followed his gaze, a soft smirk upon her muzzle, before rising. “Come, Ahuitzotl. Bring our guest,” said she, the elegant alicorn stalking gracefully down the path.

The last thing he recalled was being thrown across the beast’s back like a sack of potatoes, still sore and aching from his beating, and then passing out.

Black and gray.

Those were her colors, the one called Warden, whom had brought him here. They flew from the banners outside, embodied the somber castle upon which those hung, and even graced the creature herself.

He found it somewhat funny, that when he woke up in her abode, the first thing he could think was that somepony had taken all the color out of the world. He had been cleaned and bandaged, though, so that was a relief.

It was a small room, made of the midnight crystals that the castle itself seemed to be built of, with the softest bed he had ever slept upon — had he ever slept on a bed? — a thick gray woolen rug, and a small fireplace on the far wall. There was no fire lit, and it was rather chilly.

The door was sturdy, barred from the outside.

Everything hurt. He still felt as though every piece of him had been ripped in half, before being haphazardly glued back together. When he dared venture out of the bed, either to gaze out the window or try and knock the door down, his entire body sang out in protest.

He had, he supposed with dark humor, been beaten to within an inch of his life.

The view outside his room — perhaps more accurately described as a cell — presented a landscape of that gave an air of ancient dignity. The cavern the castle inhabited was column-shaped, roughly one hundred meters from the walls to the rock itself, and the fortress rising through the darkness like a jagged sculpture of frozen ice.

But it was the light show that took the breath away.

Pale little wisps of all colors of the rainbow, no bigger than his hoof, would seep out of the stone and the crystal. Sometimes they passed through him, and he would shudder in discomfort as the little spark inside him brushed up against it. The wisps would make for the tallest tower of the keep, where the one he knew as Warden made her lair. There, they swirled about the spire, faster and faster until they launched themselves straight upwards. A great pillar of light always pulsed above the castle, stretching higher and higher into the strange cavern until it vanished somewhere far above.

He reasoned that the passage of time could be gleaned from this spectacular display, as it seemed to go through periods of increased activity on a regular basis. He dubbed the times when the lights were few as the night, and the times where the pillar became so frantic he could no longer view it as the day.

Three days and three nights had passed before something came a-knocking at his door.

He had to raise his eyebrow at this. It was locked from the outside; he’d tried breaking it down with his weak hooves, to no avail. If somepony wanted access, why bother asking? Nevertheless, he turned from where he had been in bed, staring at the dark walls, grunting, “Enter.”

Enter she did. The hearth erupted into black flame the second her pale hoof crossed the threshold. Warden was more imposing than he remembered, her sunken countenance tempered ghastly by her withered wings and broken horn. There was something special about having both at once, he thought.

Warden was silent at first, settling down atop the thick rug. “I know you have many questions for me, though my time here is short, and we have much to discuss.”

Oh, that they did. But where to begin?

“Who am I?” he blurted.

A soft smile from the recesses of her hood. “That remains to be seen.” Warden shuffled in place, getting comfortable. “You are nothing, at least for the moment. But as for what you were...

“His name was Frost, of the Snap clan, a family of unicorn ponies known for their magical prowess and unique connection to the natural world. He was the elected leader of a town located in Equestria’s Great Southern Rainforest, called Wethoof. He had a wife, whom perished before his time was over, and is survived by a daughter. He was killed in battle by my pet Ahuitzotl, whom inflicted a mortal wound upon him, though a gryphon mercenary granted a quicker end by beheading. Frost was one-hundred and sixty-six seasons, fourteen days, and eighteen hours of age upon the day of his death. I know this because I harvested what was left of him, just as I sowed the seed of his birth.”

He stayed silent, numbly absorbing what she said.

“Upon death, his eternal soul made the journey to Tartarus, as all souls do, to make the journey to the Fount and pass on to their next life.” Warden frowned. The black flames in the hearth flickered ominously. “However, Frost had almost no soul left to give back to the cycle, having shattered his and bartered the pieces away for alliances and unholy power. Those fragments are forever lost to us, eternally swirling in the chill of the Dead Waters, the River Styx. You are all that is left. A sliver of a shard of a soul.

“Does that answer your question?” her hazel eyes blinked at him.

“...No,” he eventually grunted. “You speak of this pony, Frost, as if he is no longer with us, though you also claim I am he, or at least a piece of him.”

“Aye, the one piece he would not part with, though what that entails I do not know. You are he, and he is you, but you are you, and he is he.”

The unicorn chose to slowly nod and pretend he understood. He licked his lips. “What am I doing here, then?”

Her frown intensified, though her voice was neutral. “Frost committed acts of grievous betrayal, upon his own kin, no less. Firstly to his own blood, a clan of diamond dogs —” he suddenly stiffened, a knot of anxiety ripening within his stomach, “ — who called him one of their own, and secondly to his charges, the ponies of Wethoof, whom as Mayor he was sworn to protect but instead was willing to sacrifice for personal gain. For these great sins, and other lesser ones, his soul was damned to roam this place, his soul denied access to the fount and the next life until his debts against life were paid in full.”

“I... suppose I would be that soul, then,” he realized with growing unease. Was he to be punished for the crimes of a pony he did not even know? Frost Snap; the name wasn’t even familiar!

“As I have said, that remains to be seen. You are not the soul of a wicked pony. You are the embodiment of everything that was the exact opposite of what he became, shoved into a smaller and smaller space until you became an entity unto yourself.”

He bristled, standing up on the bed, looking down at her. “What is my purpose here, then? Why am I being kept here against my will? Why sic your... pet,” he spat the word with distaste, “on me?”

“Tell me what you remember,” she softly asked of him.

He coughed in surprise at the sudden turn of conversation. “N-nothing.”

“Did you know who you were? What you did? Who you knew?”

Her.

He remembered her. The scarlet from the caves, who had helped him conquer the Pit, who had inspired him to resist being completely broken by his guide. The name was on the tip of his tongue, the burbling fuzzy feeling in his chest that he got whenever he thought about her.

Keep going. I’ll be waiting for you at the end.

“No,” he lied.

Warden scrutinized him for a moment, then shrugged. “That is it. You are a blank slate, a soul wiped clean, though you are too small to pass through the Fount. A shard your size would fall clean through the filters and pass away into oblivion, never to be reborn, never to continue the cycle.” She smoothly stood again, towering over him even though he was perched on the bed. Her broken horn was slowly leaking from the tip, a dark, smoky ichor. When had that begun? “You are here to be offered a chance at your rebirth into the cycle. If you can atone for the sins of your true soul, you may yet redeem the pony you once were, and stand a chance to become a true spirit in your own right.”

He sat down again, hard.

“I... don’t even know what it means to live again. All I know is... here,” he finally said.

“Think upon it. I shall return soon. Once I have left, I shall have Ahuitzotl grant you leave to roam the inner sanctum of Greyguard. I must ask that you do not leave these walls — those who tread outside in the lights without my blessing are... treated rather harshly.” She made to leave, her long, thin legs delicately carrying her away.

“Wait,” he called, hopping down from the bed. “If I am to be my own, do I get a name of my own?”

“Name yourself.” She looked back once as she closed the door behind her. “I did.”

That night, he lay awake in his soft bed, the dark flickering of the hearth long since extinguished. His body still ached, crying out for rest, but his mind was a whirlpool of activity.

Just who was he?

A piece of a stallion now long dead... or something more? The path before him was slippery and every new question a splotch of ice. Was he truly the last bit of a good pony, as Warden had claimed? He didn’t think so. He had felt hate and rage and fear, just in the time he had spent down here, travelling through Tartarus. Good ponies didn’t think like that, he guessed.

How were good ponies even supposed to think? He rubbed his temples.

He decided to sleep on it.

It seemed fate had other plans, though, when he became aware of another presence in the room. He rolled over in his bed, finding himself staring into stunning emerald eyes.

“Phffft.”

She was poised with one hoof on the edge of the bed, as if caught in the act of climbing up with him. He admired her blood-red figure from the tip of her horn to the last curl of her pumpkin tail. She was well-muscled for a mare, especially in the forelegs, indicating that she worked hard for a living, but had a plumpness to her that bespoke health and good harvests. And yet, her entire body seemed unclear, flickering, and he fancied he could see the hearth straight through her.

But she had a smile on her face that said she wanted to be seen.

That smile. Where had he seen that before?

Unconsciously, he found himself making room for her, to which she did, curling up into a ball beside him. Warmth, fuzzy, delirious heat washed through his body as she pressed against his side.

“Who are you?” he asked her, but this time, the name was there, finally unsealed from its casket.

“Somepony who loves you very much.”

“Ruby,” he murmured, “your name is Ruby Glow.”

She hummed drowsily. He could feel it through their brushing coats, almost tickling. “And I haven’t given up on you.”

He wrapped himself around her, burying his nose in her mane, taking in her delicious scent that made him shiver a little; smoke and steel and sweet mare-sweat. It was so familiar, they fit together so naturally, he wondered if this is what it truly felt like to be a whole pony. “Who are you?” she whispered.

“I don’t know yet,” he said.

“That’s okay. We can find out together.”

He decided to leave it at that, unwilling to interrupt the sacred sound of her steady breaths in the still, chilly air. He drifted off to sleep, breathing her in, a genuine smile on his face.

When he woke, he was alone.

Achievement Earned: "Bring Out Yer Dead!"
Level up! - ??

-Perk Unlocked: Frozen Solid: (+10 stamina, +10 endurance) Iron Will would be proud. You never give in. You never surrender. You are made of the tough stuff; unbreakable and strong. You always get the job done... no matter how much you have to scream to do it.

-Perk Unlocked: Deadbeat: (Disease Immunity, Back from the Brink) There's a mysterious lack of noise coming from the old ticker there. No, you aren't a zombie, but you're pretty close. Still, it has it's benefits. Sickness no longer affects you. Any hit that would normally outright kill a living being now only brings you to 1% health.

-New Spell: Lover's Light: (+5 perception, +10 magic) There's something lurking in the darkness. But you aren't afraid. Keep her close to your heart and your light will never waver.

[II - Fifth] Up All Night

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T H E L E G E N D of E C H O

T H E ~ D I A M O N D ~ D O G

An MLP:FIM fanfiction written by: R U S T
with editing and proofreading by: Nathan Traveler, RaiderRy4n and Flame Runner
cover art and illustrations by: stupidyou3

ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE FIFTH
In which gumption is established, the hunt begins, and an old fool comes out of retirement... again...

The Ambassador

Thunder.

Yes, that was it! That was what it sounded like. He laughed, hard and long, clutching the casted metal barrel with a frantic strength.

BOOM, went the gun. He was almost wrenched off the thing as it bucked backwards. They yelled at him, pulled at him, told him he’d lost it.

BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBOOMBO —

He laughed again, this time at them while they cringed backwards as the rest of the deck unloaded. The floor pitched beneath them, a spray of the gaseous ocean whipped into the porthole and flayed him across the back.

Can’t you hear it? IT’S THUNDER, AND WE’RE THE LIGHTNING!

They were backing away now, others had begun to take notice. Out came his little blades, showing them, oh, they love a good show. He cut the rope and dived as the floor heaved again, the gun rumbling away from its home. They scattered like roaches, still afraid!

It felt good to get out. They only let him out to play when there were other ships nearby. His cell was small. One-two-three-four by one-two-three-four.

Sssshh, don’t be frightened, there’s nothing else to fear, now! We ARE the storm! They didn’t listen, couldn’t listen, but that was all right, he was running fast and diving out the hole and clinging to the side like vermin as another cold, salty waves of vapor slammed into him. His little blades buried themselves into the metal, his grip was unfaltering as the red sea tried to calm him down.

No, you calm down, I’m fine. We’re all fine. Everything is fine.

One-two-three-four by one-two-three-four.

He sank a blade higher up, another higher still, scaling the mighty hull. The other ship tried to knock him off because it didn't like cheaters, a hole opened up not a foot away, splinters and blood flying everywhere. He poked his head into the hole — PEEKABOO! — looking at the roaches scramble to put their limbs back on.

Up and over the railing he went, little bees buzzing in the air. He tried to put one on the tip of his little blade, but the sting broke it. He tasted something warm and tangy and dripping from his face, that was his face, oh wow! More yelling at him. He ignored, sucking all the stuff from his fingers.

It’d been too long since they let him see the sky. Deep orange, just like him! Wisps of green gas streaked through the atmosphere. He could make out the two suns kissing the distant horizon.

The other ship hit them.

He giggled as he saw the deck warp, little waves in a pond. Everyone was screaming and yelling, why were they always doing that? Really ruining the moment.

COME ON, WHERE’D THE THUNDER GO!?

One-two-three-four by one-two-three-four.

BOOM, went the guns.

Yes, there we go.

The other ship shuddered even as the cockroaches onboard tried to spin their webs across the churning waters. More little bees whizzed through the air, but they didn’t like being caught, even though they all liked to land on him. Why did they always leave him red? Red was stupid.

Something exploded nearby, he went flying into the railing. He laughed at that. Silly railing, you should have let me go to sleep. The mast cracked, shattered, it wanted to hug him. He got up and wrapped his arms around it as it bent over to him.

It crushed him flat into the deck, but that was okay, he felt tired now. Something long and jagged was poking him in the belly. The mast rolled off, and he saw that it had left a red tree inside of him! Stupid red tree.

He looked up at the sky and smiled as the ship rattled, thunder shaking the very ocean.

One-two-three-four by one-two-three-four.

His eyes felt heavy, oh, so heavy, but that was okay, they never stayed that way for long. He never got enough sleep. He wiggled out from underneath, shrieking as all his broken bits started moving back together, oh how it hurts!

Sometimes he felt he was dreaming all the time, and it was only when he closed his eyes could he —

— Keep awake.

In the hot, stuffy confines of her bed, Lyra twisted and turned, before finally surrendering the fight and violently kicking the covers off.

Sleep simply would not come.

The unicorn panted faintly as she blankly glared at the wall, exasperated. Her body felt the exhaustion of a full day’s work, though her mind was racing at full tilt.

Wait... again!?

She didn’t even have to look around to know her detested surroundings. The sumptuous guest apartments provided for her in the East Wing were even bigger than her current home. Trimmed with fine carpeting, and furnished with nothing but the most regally elegant of pieces, it was the overnight destination of many an important pony of standing. Princes, Lords, Officers, Emissaries, and even foreign Kings had stayed within these walls, rested upon the softest of pegasus-down mattresses.

“...The hay?”

Why do I even know that, I’ve never been in here before... have I?

She felt like she was being choked with luxury. Her simple four-roomer apartment above Bon-Bon’s candy shop never felt farther away, or more wanted. There was a satisfaction of feeling ‘at home’ in a place that no amount of money could ever purchase. She wondered what her best friend and roommate was up to right now.

Probably sleeping, like any sane pony.

Bons had the exact opposite situation as her, all too often. The mare was always bone-tired after a long day, and never really had much going through her mind besides filling orders and inventory. Lyra was somewhat annoyed at her for the ease of which she drifted into the dreamlands, though that really sprang from a twinge of jealousy — Bons didn’t have to worry about great things. She was a simple mare, with a simple life, and Lyra occasionally wished she could have one as well.

But... only occasionally. She was living her dream. The Outland Ambassador! Who could have guessed little Lyra would have gained such a title? Countless hours of brushing through dusty old tomes, hogging Twilight Sparkle’s astronomy telescopes, and pursuing any lead, no matter how frivolous, had finally paid off.

She’d done it. From the lips of the Princess herself... there was life out there. And it was her job to be the first to meet it, among other things.

...None of those things, however, explained why not seconds ago she’d been holding conversation in Princess Luna’s antechamber, and yet now found herself back in her room, with much time having apparently passed.

A pair of icy blue eyes blinked. She wasn’t even aware they’d snuck into her vision.

“G’yaaaah!” she squealed in surprise, accidentally rolling off the bed and crashing into the carpet. Now lying face up at the ceiling, those same pale eyes came peering over the edge of the bed, set back into a dark, shaggy silhouette.

“...Ragdoll?” she finally said. It was a little relieving to see a familiar face, even if said face belonged to an enigmatic Outlander she knew next to nothing about.

The eyes blinked again. The figure moved, casting a pretty face into the moonlight streaming through the windows. “Ambassador,” she greeted quietly.

Lyra rolled over and found her hooves, planting them firmly in the ground before standing. “Uhm... can I... help you with... something?”

Silence.

Lyra fidgeted. “Anything?”

“Sure can!” A second, darker head appeared next to Ragdoll’s, this one adorned with a long horn, scruffy mane and an eyepatch. A single, toxic-green iris glimmered at her in the darkness.

“G’YAAAAAH!” yelled Lyra, tumbling over a second time, knocking the bedside table over in the process. The lamp shattered, and its shade somehow found its way onto her head.

A dark-orange hoof lifted this off. Lyra followed the hoof until she was staring face to face with...

...With...

“Wait a moment. I know you, don’t I?”

“You betcha, Ambassador! I’m Ferrous!” He reached down and shook her hoof vigorously, pumping so fast he was almost vibrating. Lyra yanked herself away, leaning back against the wall in an attempt to collect herself.

Ferrous. Ferrous Oxhide, that was it. The... Elder? Yes. Reaver. One of three. But if he’s here, then...?

“Wait, how did you even get here?” Lyra asked.

He grinned. There was something unnerving about that grin. “Well, when a Mommy and a Daddy love each other very much, or, in my case, if a certain amount of money is exchanged...”

“No!” Lyra flailed about, interrupting him. “I mean... here, like, my room.”

“Oh!” he said. “That’s an easy one. I followed sis inside! Your door was unlocked, by the way.”

Elder Sage was sitting primly atop Lyra’s bed, bushy brown tail wrapped around her hooves in an vaguely feline manner. “You have been having visions, Ambassador,” she stated simply.

Lyra raised an eyebrow. How did she know about that? “Visions of... what, exactly?”

“Us!” the other unicorn bounced on the spot. “They always had to see us, the real us, every time we got a new Ambassador. Ya gotta know who you’re dealing with, ya know?”

“Not really,” muttered Lyra. “I’ve been having an odd day, today. Forgive me if I’m easily confused. It’s all so much to take in.”

“Whenever Ambassador meets Outlander, they see what true nature of Outlander is,” explained Ragdoll. “To know if they are threat or not. Is good. But, no Ambassador ever like doing that with brother here.”

Lyra felt a ghost of a memory surface; the sting of a gaseous sea, the glare of an alien sky, and the terrible roars of weaponized doom. “I think I know why...”

Ragdoll nodded. “You glimpse what we were before we come to this land.”

“Right.” Lyra heaved herself upright, rubbing the kinks out of her back. Which meant whatever that thing she’d seen through in her last vision was the true form of Ferrous. And the one before that, the predator in the snow, was Ragdoll. She rubbed at her temples. “But what happened while I was doing that? I feel like there’s just...gaps in my memory.”

“After meeting in Pritessa’s chamber, Luna free my brother. He only wake up short while ago.”

The rusty unicorn giggled by her side, hopping up and down atop Lyra’s bed. “That just leaves good ‘ole Omni! Then we can get this show on the road.”

Lyra picked him up in a grip of magic, setting him down on the floor as she climbed back up. He didn’t seem to notice. “What show?”

“Why, didn’t you hear? We’re going on an adventure! Some old guy is giving us a ride on his ship!"

“Yeah... going out on a limb, but something tells me giving you anything more dangerous than a spoon is a bad idea,” muttered Lyra.

“I’m getting a spoon, too?! Aw, yeah!” cried the unicorn.

Lyra turned to the other occupant in the room. “Is he for real?”

“No,” said Ragdoll. "He paid a much higher toll than Omnius or myself. Forgive his antics, he means well."

"Toll... a toll?" Lyra gave her a blank look. "I feel like I heard that somewhere already. Was it when I was... doing the whole ‘vision’ thing?"

The other mare nodded. "Any Outlander who has come to this realm must pay a price. this realm is paradise, compared to other worlds. The Great Beyond does not wish to see it spoiled, so we pay the toll to enter.”

Lyra finally sat up. “A toll, as in money.”

“No.” Ragdoll shrugged. “It happens to all of us in some way, though never the same. My younger brother..." she tilted her head towards Ferrous, who was was now busy walking around the edges of the room, muttering under his breath. "Is why he is missing an eye. My elder brother Omnius lost his leg the day we came here. The Outlander Discord is responsible for no doubt has paid as well."

"And you?" wondered Lyra.

Ragdoll brushed away her shaggy bangs. Lyra sucked in a breath at the small, shattered white stump jutting from her forehead. She recoiled, wincing. "O-oh, oh jeez... I'm sorry, I should not have asked."

"No. Is your duty to know these things, Ambassador. You have much to learn, this is why I am here tonight."

“Alright, fair enough,” Lyra said, and stretched as she began to trot out of the room. She looked over her shoulder at the two peculiar not-ponies. “But perhaps we could take this outside? After all, you too have been gone a thousand years, right? Let me show you around Canterlot. It’s changed since you were here last.”

The stallion whooped with delight, and began bouncing alongside her, while his sister took the other side, padding silently through the night.

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s called a locomotive. A train. It carries more things and ponies than a caravan could. And its faster, too.” Lyra proudly patted the side of an old steam engine sitting on the rails, giving it an admiring grin. “It uses a fire ruby to heat water inside the boiler, which funnels steam through a series of pipes. This pressurized steam moves a piston, causing...”

She realized that one of her present company was missing. Ragdoll sat calmly on the platform, eerie eyes unblinking as she focused on Lyra. Beside her was a suspiciously empty spot, formerly occupied.

“Hey! What’s this thing do?”

She’d turned her head for three seconds.

That was all it took, it seems.

A blast of noise and steam erupted from the train, startling many of the late-night comers and goes in the station. A good many bags toppled over as their owners jumped in surprise. Ferrous’ dark orange head poked out of the train engineer’s compartment, mane now blasted straight backwards, a maniac grin upon his face. “Wow! That was loud! ...Can I do it again?”

“No,” Ragdoll answered for the dumbstruck Ambassador.

Ferrous was abruptly launched out of the compartment, landing face-first on the platform. Where he once stood, the engineer of the train scowled, the unicorn’s horn glow fading.

“We should go,” stated Ragdoll, peeling him off the floor.

“Sorry, sis,” he said sheepishly. “Guess I did it again, huh.”

In hindsight, perhaps taking the two of them on a sightseeing trip had been a bad idea. Lyra thought it would do the two some good to see how things had grown since ancient times. Even Knight-Commander Starbuck, head of the watch that night, had been skeptical, cautioning her, but let them pass into the city regardless.

“Eh. Is not first time you do something stupid.”

“Haha, like that time we went to Trotholme with Lulu?”

“No. Nobody is on fire.”

As Lyra hustled them out of the train station, blushing under the accusing glares, she wondered if she should have heeded his words.

The two Outlanders cantered down the cobblestone streets in the way that only tourists were notorious for; eyes wide, looking up at the starlit towers instead of down by their hooves, an overwhelmed look upon their faces. Ragdoll was fascinated by the neon signs, seemingly mesmerized by the glow, though uncomprehending in Lyra’s explanation of how they worked. Ferrous was the same, though his interest seemed to be solely for the roadside hayfry stands, open and simmering even at this late hour.

Canterlot had a life of its own after dark. When the high-society types retired for the night to their lavish hilltop mansions by the palace, the true denizens of the city took to the streets. Pathways, corridors, and squares standing empty and gleaming under the sun took on new purpose. The second and third classes; the haves-less and the have-nots, the dreamers and the schemers, the thinkers and the tinkerers, Canterlot’s forgotten sons and daughters. After a long day of serving the nobility, they had bits and time to spend.

Take a left off Main, trot three blocks down the business district, and an unassuming brick alley would dump you out here, the nerve center of the Canterlot night life, an impressive strip flashing with lights and bustling with sounds. All this in very shadow of the palace.

Ferrous happily munched on a bucket of hayfries as they shuffled through the crowds, while Lyra attempted to talk with her other companion.

“What do you think, Ragdoll?”

The shaggy mare eyed a storefront filled with all sorts of new household appliances. “Everything is so... shiny. I know not what half of these machines are. And there are so many ponies about. Is there a festival going on?”

“None that I know of. This is the usual crowd for a summer’s night.”

Ragdoll smiled, chuckling to herself.

“What?” Lyra couldn’t help but grin as well. “What’s so funny?”

“It is a very strange feeling, to go to sleep, and upon awakening to find that your entire purpose is now for nothing. My brothers and I spent years fighting for Luna, for her night, trying to make a society where the darkness was not something to be shunned.” She gestured to the hustle and bustle of the city, where ponies laughed and played and lived under the neon, bright enough to dim the stars above. “Now that such a thing exists, I feel....” After a moment of struggling, she gave up. “There is no word in your language.”

“There’s a word in mine,” broke in Ferrous. Lyra jumped a bit, almost having forgotten he was there. “Ka’lelea. It is the void of purpose of a hero after their quest is over.”

“We weren’t heroes,” said Ragdoll.

“Ha!” Ferrous blinked, barked with laughter, then returned to his bucket of hayfries. “No, we weren't.”

After a long tour of the city, Lyra took them down a small side street, which ran past the back of Pony Joe’s, and like many streets in Canterlot, was crowded with cafe tables. The crowd had begun to thin out as the hotspots died away behind them.

Ferrous stopped in front of a small bookstore, where a sales colt was hawking his wares. “The Meta!” cried the vendor. “Buy it now! Be entranced as the author becomes a character in his own world! Thirty bits per copy, hardcover thirty-seven!”

The rusty unicorn snorted. “Well that sounds like the dumbest thing ever.” He yelped as Ragdoll dragged him away from the thoroughly-miffed bookstore.

Here, far from the throbbing heart of culture and economy, lay the location of one of the many public gardens dotting the city. This one was located right beneath the Canter Falls. Above, a huge overhang of the mountain itself, jutting outwards like a mighty stone ship to launch the river from it’s bowsprit. The moon cut the shadow of the waterfall itself, bathing the park in a comforting muted atmosphere while fireflies danced and swayed through the flowers. There was precious little else to hear aside from the rumble of the waterfall and the chirping of crickets.

This garden in particular held a special significance to Lyra. As a small filly, she’d spent a few years growing up in Canterlot before following her father’s job to Clydesdale, and would often come to this secluded place to practice her harp and dabble in poetry.

They stopped at the old gazebo by the edge. It was faded and somewhat moldy from the near-constant mist in the air from the falls, but it was still the same as she remembered it. The pair of outlanders peered over the railing, at the dizzy drop into the valley far, far below.

Ferrous looked up and pointed. “What is that!?”

Lyra followed his hoof. There, drifting slowly above a distant slash of clouds, hung a curious construction of pony design. She squinted. “Looks like an airship. Probably filling up the envelope on cloudstuff before a long voyage.”

“A ship... that flies?” Ferrous stared at the craft in obvious awe. “Forget your locomota-tas, that is amazing.” He drifted away from them, trotting closer to the edge to watch it.

“He comes from a world where entire lives are spent aboard sailing craft,” explained Ragdoll. “Entire nations at sea.”

Lyra recalled the spray of a red ocean, the rumble of engines and guns. She shivered a little. “Y-yeah. Didn’t strike me as a a very nice place.”

“It wasn’t,” said Ragdoll. “When one craft met another, a battle was fought, and the smaller was usually destroyed and absorbed into the larger.”

“That’s barbaric!” Lyra gasped.

“That was life,” stated Ragdoll. “What little resources the realm had were washed away by great cataclysm. The people left had to fight for what was left, simply not enough for all. When my brother and I visit his world, we find him alone and adrift. His people had been using him as a... what he call it — berserker in your language— kept crazy and unfeeling by chemical and magic. Only survivor of his craft.”

“What happened to it?”

“There’s always a bigger fish,” Ragdoll deadpanned.

“...Oh. What about your world?”

“Othos.” The shaggy mare grinned. Sharp, unnatural fangs glinted in the half-light of the moon. “A place ruled by ice and snow. Life blooms in the cold, and the sun never graces the sky. Only night eternal, until you reach the far side of the world. The people are hardy, proud.”

Lyra licked her dry lips with a hint of nervousness. “Carnivores, too.”

“The fresher the kill, the warmer the spill.” Ragdoll chuckled darkly. “No need to worry, though,” she said at Lyra’s shocked expression. “Equestria has made my brothers and I into her own image. Mostly.”

“Right. Right... and what about your other... brother? Omnius?”

“Nobody knows. He tells different story every time we ask. Some sad, some glad, all from different worlds and times. He claims all are true. When you meet him, you might ask him.”

“How can you be from many different places at once?”

“I don’t question it. We are family. He found me in the snow and ice, and saw me for what I was.”

“Cold and hungry?” Lyra smirked.

Ragdoll’s laugh was genuine, her eyes sparkled with humor. “Hunger, yes, I was hungry. But not for blood and bone, for truth and far sights not seen. I began to travel with him, and we went to many, many worlds.” She watched the waterfall tumbling down from the mountain.

“That sounds like quite the life,” Lyra remarked.

“It was and is,” she sighed. “After a time, we find Ferrous, and then we are family. Omnius is big brother, Ferrous is little baby brother, and I am sister in middle. And for a time, we are simple travelers. But it could not last. As we travel between the layers, we hear a cry of distress from here, from Equestria. From Printessa Luna.”

“Princess Luna...” Lyra glanced back up at the palace, alabaster towers standing in stark relief amidst the night sky. “She was the reason you originally came here.”

“Yes. She was lonely, and called to the stars for company. They answered. Usually Omnius made it point to not get involved in worlds, to let them be as they are, but Luna was special. She was... like us, but not so much. Different. I liked her most. My world was always dark, so I not fear the night, and I kept her company when nobody else would.

“We became her best and only friends. That was mistake. We should have let her grow on her own, not entertain her hoarding of us to ourselves. She thought we were the only friends she needed. She cared not for others. And when she fell to her nightmare... she pulled us in after her; we, the only holds she had to grab onto.”

Ragdoll fell silent, a ponderous frown upon her face.

Lyra let her think.

For a while, the crickets chirped uninterrupted. Lyra idly watched the fireflies play. The little bugs swooped and swirled through the garden, drawing contrails of light through the summery air.

“Hey! Look at this! Over here!”

Both mares turned, to see Ferrous bouncing in place pointing at the sky. “It’s coming towards us!” he cried.

The airship Lyra had seen earlier had drifted closer. Slightly lower in elevation than the cliff ledge they sat upon she could actually see onto the deck of the ship itself, where a solitary equine figure up at the quarter deck manned the craft’s helm. On the main deck, two other, larger equine figures moved about, manipulating rigging and sails. She could tell they were unicorns by the way the objects moved about them as if no pony held them.

“Oh, wow. It’s coming reeeaaaallly close...”

Ships usually steered clear of the side of the mountain, which was prone to treacherous rouge winds that blasted upwards from the valley below. Clearly, the pilot of this one hadn’t gotten the memo. In fact, it seemed they were steering...

...Right towards them.

“Brother! To me!” cried Ragdoll.

The rusty unicorn spun about from the edge and hesitated, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the incoming ship, then vanished from the spot in a flash of green light. He reappeared with a similar pulse, now peeking out from behind Ragdoll. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“I know not. Ambassador?”

Lyra did not have time to answer, for at that moment the entire airship became the brightest thing in the night sky as an enormous golden dome of magic winked to life around it. The airship then plowed straight through the Canter Falls, parting the roaring curtain of water like a knife. It was huge up close; Lyra had never seen one like this before.

The airship had clearly seen better days, it was aging and slightly-damaged, though it’s sleek lines and sharp, tapered bow made her think of a shark swimming through air. Here and there, plants had taken hold, vines grew amongst the rigging, flowers sprouted up from between rotting floorboards. Dulling, heavy cannons poked out from the sides. The brass plate riveted to the bow was faded and scratched, but she could clearly make out the name.

Benevolent Mercy II

A mighty gouge had been cleaved through the letters, but the words still stood proud.

Why did that name seem familiar? Lyra knew she’d heard it somewhere before. Her chance to reflect on the matter, however, was lost as the airship’s shield evaporated into a shower of golden sparkles. The pilot spun the wheel and slammed at several levers by the helm, and the stern kicked out to one side, the entire ship presenting her port side to the cliff edge.

The entire gargantuan mass stopped on a dime no less than a foot from the garden’s wall, deck perfectly level with the ground. If there had been a screech and cloud of dust raised, Lyra supposed it would have been in perfect taste.

A gangplank extended and slammed down into the grass not feet away. Heavy thumping announced the pilot as he stomped down and hopped onto the grass, scrutinizing the trio under the gazebo with a piercing glare.

He was a stocky unicorn, with a deep golden coat and short, thinning, navy blue mane with a charming curl to it that bespoke many a mare’s broken heart. He was somewhat elderly by the looks of him, but tough, like old leather.

“Are you the one called Lyra Heartstrings, known as Ambassador to the Outlands?” he called.

“Y-yes?” Lyra squeaked in reply.

The unicorn looked relieved. “Excellent. Then they were correct after all.” He gave a deep, formal bow, and snapped into a salute. “My name is Tythus Aegis, a former Major in the Uni Corps, of Their Majesties’ Fighting Forces.” He coughed, glancing back to the ship. “Technically now a Captain again, although a different sort.”

Lyra squeezed out from behind to two huddled Outlanders. “Um, yes. Hello.”

She really wasn’t sure what to say in a situation like this.

“...How are you?”

Tythus didn’t miss a beat. “Bones are a bit creaky, but that’s to be expected at this age, ma’am.” He raised an eyebrow, then cracked a sly sort of smile. “I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve just broken thirteen different sailing regulations to come here to meet you, yes?”

“Wait a minute!” Ferrous abrupt charged forwards at him. “I know who you are!”

Tythus’ eyes widened at the other unicorn’s rush. He smoothly stepped to the side, horn glowing softly as he slashed with it. Ferrous’ run was ended in an instant, and the rusty unicorn came tumbling to a halt, pinned to the ground by a single golden hoof.

Ferrous reached up and bopped him on the nose. “You’re that old geezer with the sweet ship!”

Behind them, the two mares facehooved simultaneously.

Tythus frowned. “I’m not that old.”

Two new voices broke out through the garden. Deep and melodious, like old church bells.

“He means no insult, dear friend...”

“...only simple unguided enthusiasm.”

Two alicorns strode down the gangplank, making hardly any noise at all on the old wood. They were each the deepest of blacks though their fur held an oily tint; one blue, the other green. Their manes were the dancing northern lights, shining a soft light upon the silver yokes worn ‘round necks.

Ferrous grinned up at them from where he was pinned. “Hey, ‘Bo! Hey, Aussie!”

The two alicorns gave him near-identical warm smiles. “Hello, Reaver...” the greener one said, more of a masculine tinge in his voice.

“...Been a while, hasn’t it?” the other finished, this time the chime feminine.

Lyra felt her eye twitch involuntarily.

“Hate it when they do that,” muttered Ragdoll.

Tythus cleared his throat. “Ambassador Heartstrings, I present to you Duke Borealis and Duchess Australis. We came as soon as we heard the news.”

“That’s... nice?” Lyra managed. “And what exactly is your business here? With me? I mean, I’m sure you can have business with me, you’re royalty, but, uh, I...”

Tythus smirked. “We three are here to join the Fellowship, and provide any and all services required to further its, and by extension, your cause. I think you might find us to be quite the help. I happen to have personally met one of the creatures you seek.

“Oh, by the way, we leave at dawn.”

Achievement Earned: "Old Farts, Braver Hearts"

Level up! - Lyra Heartstrings, Outland Ambassador

-Perk Unlocked: Tongue-Tied: (+3 stamina, +3 spirit, -1 intelligence) Expect the unexpected, they tell you. Well, they've never had to put up with the shit you have. Your exposure to exceedingly random occurrences have left your hardier than most, although your short-circuiting neurons might have something to say about that.

Allies Gained!

-Captain Tythus of House Aegis, the Iron Shield of Canterlot

-Duke Aurora Borealis, Bearer of the Northern Lights

-Duchess Aurora Australis, Bearer of the Southern Lights

[II - Sixth] Face to Face

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ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE SIXTH

In which the secret is revealed, a pegasus comes to terms, and an endgame is triggered...

Echo and Daring Do

The Cinderwings milled about, unsure and uneasy. They licked their wounds and cast nervous glances at the object of their respite. They knew of the plan, though most held doubts as to whether it would work or not.

A dusky gold pegasus in particular trotted back and forth, anxiety clearly etched upon her features. Paces away, a small zebra sat next to an elderly diamond dog, who clutched at his bandaged shoulder as he leaned on an old, knobby spear.

Something was wrong, Daring was sure of it.

After more than a decade of adventures under her wings, her instincts had become sharper than steel, and she’d learned to trust them. Daring was a mare of action, tempered by the wisdom of experience. Simply sitting here, unable to know or do anything, was torture to her.

Especially since something was wrong.

But what?

The plan had been sound. Of course it had been sound — it was her plan. She’d taken almost everything into consideration, and was absolutely sure it’s components would fall into place like a well oiled machine.

Some piece of the puzzle had warped, bent out of shape before it could be used. She looked deep inside herself and found it, clinging by a thread. The ethereal string binding her to Echo had vibrated and frayed, nearly snapping itself in twine when the surge of energy was released. Dimly, she realized with growing unease that she could not sense the slightest trace of her better half. No thoughts, no secondary emotions, not even a whisper of an instinct. She had forgotten what it felt like to be alone.

Whatever was happening — he was behind the bad feeling brewing in her gut.

Pacing relentlessly back and forth, wearing a trail in the now-thin carpet of gold and gems, Daring Do huffed and cast what must have been the tenth worried glance of the minute at the brainchild she’d spawned.

Floating a foot off the stone pillar, a shimmering silver orb hung in the air, a great dewdrop of pulsing power that had swallowed the battle’s epicenter whole. A faint silhouette could be seen deep inside, the coiled form of the mighty dragon nestled with the hidden forms of Ginger and Echo. It reminded her of a massive egg, if the shell were made of magic.

“Hmmmnnn...” she whined to herself. “What are you up to?”

The egg made no reply, only continuing to emit its low, steady drone. The diamond dog standing behind her, however, filled the silence.

“It been awhile since trap sprung.” Old Yeller picked his teeth. Ever the opportunistic diamond dog, his pockets and bags (as well as those of all the other Cinderwings) were bulging with wealth picked from the ground during their moment of respite.

“Ginger must have been able to store more power than we guessed. I figured only a few minutes would be necessary.”

“How many minutes has it been, Missus Do?” piped up the little zebra filly by the old dog’s side. She shuffled in place, clearly as apprehensive as Daring felt.

Well, of course she would be. The well being of her family was on the line. Daring frowned, glaring at the orb again. “About ten.”

“What... what we do if they trapped in there?” asked Old Yeller.

Daring knew he was one of the more loyal of the pack. But he was also the most experienced. Many of life’s harsh lessons had been carved into his old hide, more than on hers. If he thought remaining here was a lost cause, he would most likely leave. “They aren’t trapped. This stasis will continue until the energy source is depleted, or until the caster banishes the effects.”

In both cases, that meant they were waiting on Echo.

When she turned back to the pair, she saw it had become a trio. Entropy casually leaned on top of Zanza’s head, casually polishing a hoof as the zebra went cross-eyed looking up at him. He winked at her. “Or, you could do the right thing. It’s a bubble. So pop it. Get a big stick and jam it right in there. It’d make a wonderfully loud bang, I’d say.”

“Entropy, now is so not the time.” Daring glared at him.

“Oooh, touchy.” He slithered over to her, coiling himself around. “Have faith in him, DD. If there’s any true constant I’ve seen, it’s that his incongruousness is impossible to rein for long.”

A rumble filled the air.

Entropy cackled. “Speaking of the devil. That was the door; pizza’s here.” He clicked his tongue and twirled away as Daring tired to kick him.

The Cinderwings glanced up from filling their pockets, once more taking up their discarded weapons and quickly gathering behind Old Yeller, seeking shelter and guidance from their senior member.

“Cover your ears,” Daring instructed them. They did.

KRACKA-BA-BOOOOOOOM!

An almighty thunderclap shook the cavern to the core. The magic bubble shattered with a colossal implosion and a blast of hot pink light. Daring skidded backwards across the ground, her petite figure unable to withstand the resulting shockwave. She crashed into Rin-Tin-Tin, who yelped but held his ground as he and the other diamond dogs anchored themselves in by the claws.

When noise faded, she discovered that it had left the link reattached to the back of her mind. She caught herself revelling in the faint sensations it brought with it — five senses, not her own.

She tested the bond, sending a tenuous ripple down the line. Echo?

I’m here.

There was something off about his voice. There was something off about him. Usually, there was a constant sense of peace about him. Simply being aware of his presence in the rear of her thoughts was not unlike spending several minutes in quiet contemplation of a tranquil forest brook. He did not feel the same. He felt rough and cold, sandpaper on ice. Daring’s hackles rose unbidden. Cautiously, she pried herself off Rin-Tin-Tin and crept towards the cloud of smoke

Did... did it work?

Not entirely.

The smoke gently wafted away, revealing a large cocoon of golden scales and delicate bones. Like a blooming flower, it unfolded, revealing the petals within:

— Ginger Snap, bristling with a grimace that bespoke wounded pride and a boiling temper, which smoldered beneath furious leaf-green eyes.

— Echo, shifting uneasily in place and leaning heavily upon his staff, expression unreadable from within the shadow of his hood.

— A lithe, golden dragoness, several times smaller than Daring remembered, sitting sphinxlike as her wings folded to her sides. The creature stared right at her, an eye ridge half-raised.

Before she could contain it, a soft growl rattled up from her belly.

The other Cinderwings weren’t so complacent to contain their unspent aggression upon their foe. Snarling, the diamond dogs brandished their various weapons and encircled the small group. Rin-Tin-Tin leapt straight at the golden drake, axeblade singing in the foul air.

The world twitched, suddenly staining itself silver through Daring’s eyes.

A blur of speed and magic-guided precision stepped in front of the charging canine’s path. The bloodied steel weapon was smashed to the side at the very last instant by a swirl of rune etched wood, burying into the stone half a foot away from the dragoness’ left foreclaw. She glanced down at the massive weapon with disinterest.

Rin’s remaining momentum was broken by the opposite end of the staff, coming around to complete the spin. It cracked him in the jaw, sending him twirling to the ground in the reverse direction.

Color returned. Echo stood stock still before the dragoness, tense, staff cocked for another flurry.

“Back! Get back!” Ginger was barking orders. The others had lurched forward at the display, herself included. Ginger would talk some sense into them. “There’s been a change of plan. Cinderwings, we have been betrayed by one of our own....”

But in the meantime, Daring needed answers, and she needed them faster than the speed of speech could deliver.

What was that?

If a thought could actually have a temperature, she came damn close to boiling his head.

There’s been a change of plans, Echo replied, making his packmates scurry the other away with a threatening flourish of his staff. The message was clear; they were not to attack. The Lady is going to send us after Balto and Zanza’s folks.... of her own free will.

Daring glared coldly at the dragoness, whom had not moved the entire time. She’s helping us now?

Yes. She and I have reached an agreement of sorts.

Gee, that doesn’t seem suspicious or anything. And since when was her name ‘Lady?’”

Lady Pyrite, Dares. And we have to trust her. I offered her a deal.

What... what did you offer a dragon that she didn’t already have? We’re literally standing on a pile of bloody treasure and dead slaves.

He shuffled in place, a naughty little colt caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Echo... what did you do? Daring could hear the sound of Ginger speaking over the din within her head. The weird sensations she was picking up from Echo weren’t helping her pay attention to both things at once.

Made a friend, he confessed.

Daring looked at the dragoness, then back to him. Then at the dragoness, and back to him.

“WHAT!?!?”

Dares, calm down. Please. I can explain.

You’ve just befriended a psychopathic murderer who has killed dozens, enslaved hundreds, stolen thousands... and... and... she’s a monster, Echo! She’s a freaking monster! You’ve seen how she treats her property — she almost spat the word out loud. She’s evil!

Evil is all a matter of perspective.

No. No! Don’t you rationalize this. This is... this is wrong.

We need her help. His thoughts were almost a whisper. Daring wondered whom he was trying to convince; her, or himself. We cannot salvage this quest without her. She can use her dragonfire to send us after Balto and the rest of our pack. If we don’t go after them, Ginger’s credibility as an Alpha will be shot... no diamond dog would ever respect her again, and we’d never be able to unite them as a single people.

We could find somepony else, Daring hissed. Somepony who knows the difference between right and wrong! If you’d stuck to the plan, we wouldn’t even have to do this!

As the heated exchange continued, she found herself advancing upon him, wings threateningly outstretched. Over the sound of her own blood roaring in her ears, she could hear Ginger continuing to address the others. She did not care what the unicorn had to say at the moment, though. There was only the heated focus on the tall diamond dog in the hood, his eyes no longer twinkling with spirit.

She could feel him, too, in how he reacted to her words. It was a strange sensation, knowing the direct effect you were causing another. Their link trembled and flexed as pangs of guilt and anxiety rattled the anchors. But her resolve only hardened. If there was one thing Daring prided herself on more than anything else, it was her sense of justice, honed to a razor’s edge from years spent in the wilds, where there was no law, only gut decisions and whip-snap judgements.

This ‘Lady’ had committed terrible crimes. For that, she must be punished. Right. That’s how it worked. She should suffer for the suffering caused. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

Echo remained just as stubborn, much to her frustration. If we stuck to the plan, we’d have done the exact same thing she’d done! We would have enslaved her to our will! Dares, the whip would never have been dropped that way, only changed hands!

She would have deserved it. The pegasus was in his face, hovering above the stone to look him in the eye. Her blood was roiling now, full of salt and fire. Never before had she felt so wrathful.

It felt really, really good.

We would have become the very thing we sought to destroy. Echo could not meet her burning gaze, no matter how hard he tried. Slavery and tyranny have no place in the world we’re trying to make, he mumbled.

Echo, you can’t just forgive somepony for something like this!

It’s better than the alternative!

No, she deserves every lash and blow we give her!

Daring, no it—

She deserves to be helpless! She deserves to feel exactly what she inflicted on those innocent lives! She should feel every scar, every day of mistreatment, every drop of blood that has stained these caves!

Dares—

Make her pay for what she’s done!

Listen to me, what’s gotten into you all of a sudden!?

“Listen to you!? No. YOU. LISTEN. TO. ME.” She was shouting now, but she didn’t care. Hot tears were running down her face, but she didn’t bother wiping them. The stares of the others prickled the back of her neck, but she was past being reined in by that. “You can’t just let evil go unpunished! She has to pay with everything left! And if you seem to like her so much, maybe you can join her!”

Daring, please!

“Don’t you ‘Daring, please’ me, you... you coward!”

Echo shivered underneath her. When had she knocked him down? Daring, her slaves are dead and her treasure is forfeit. She’s got nothing left but her life.

“Then she can start with that!”

A heavy, uncomfortable silence suddenly made itself aware to her. Daring glanced around. The other Cinderwings were staring at her with mixtures of shock and horror. Ginger Snap looked like she’d tasted something foul, and trembling beneath her was little Zanza. To the side, the object of her fury had not moved an inch, impassively watching all that was transpiring.

“Daring...”

That came from him, nothing more than a hoarse ripple that brought everything crashing back down around her. She looked down at him, sprawled out beneath her. There was a thin trickle of blood coming from one of his nostrils. She lifted up a hoof, finding a small stain of red on it.

He flinched at the movement.

“Oh... sweet, Celestia.” She staggered off him. “What... what did I just...” Everything kept collapsing. The wrath and terrible, nasty thoughts fled from her, leaving an aching void that she realized was absent of his presence. He’d completely fled, and the last taste of him within her was one of fear and... recognition? And, and... she’d just said that... oh, no no no no...

“What’s happening to me?” she whimpered.

Echo could only stare back at her.

Daring curled up into a ball of feathers and fur, and began to cry.

She was barely aware of when he carried her back to the others, cradled gingerly in his arms like she were made of glass. He’d wrapped her in his robe, which was dirty and stank but worked as an excellent cocoon to hide her shame and tears.

She was barely aware of when Ginger had settled things down again. Or when she grudgingly asked the Lady Pyrite to send them on their way, to the same destination of their quarry.

She was barely aware when an almost unbearable golden heat washed over them, so strong she could see it through her tightly-closed eyes. It pulled at her, sucking her in and up simultaneously.

She was barely aware when she felt a jolt of energy from him, changing something, and suddenly they were wrenched away from the heat and light, falling...

...Falling...

Echo appeared with a wash of golden flames ten feet above the sandy dune, falling as gracefully as he could while clutching the precious bundle to his chest. He awkwardly hit the dune paws first and his ankle rolled, soon followed by the rest of his body. The diamond dog tumbled head over heel all the way down, finally coming to a bone-jarring halt in the depression at the bottom.

Wincing, he uncurled himself, looking down to find his cargo safe and secure by his side. The sharp sniffles and gasps from within the wrapping told him that she’d made it... physically.

He had always known this day would come.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t wait a little longer. The desert sky was beautiful, a pristine pale blue that reminded him of tropical oceans and baby blankets. He stared at it for a while until his heart stopped racing and the magic in his veins cooled down to the point where it didn’t feel like his insides were burning. Yet another quirk in the life of an arcane sponge...

He cracked his spine as he stretched up to his full height, surveying the land. Dunes as far as the eye could see, punctuated here and there by a lonely bush or cacti. In the distance, deep purple mountains reared their heads, a line of silver green just beneath them. That was the Ironwood Grove, he realized. Meaning one of those features near it were undoubtedly...

One of the mountains abruptly lit up like a christmas tree, sprouting a crown of light and smoke. In awe, he watched as it crumpled in upon itself, a ship of stone and jewels sinking beneath the Ironwood waves. Even from here, he could hear a slight groan in the air as the earth warped, the sensitive pads on his paws picking up the distressed vibrations that only a mountain falling into the abyss could bring.

He blinked. Daring hadn’t been kidding about the proximity trigger. Move far enough away from the explosives... and... boom. He reckoned they’d gone well out of range. He’d made sure to rip out of the dragonfire after good distance had been achieved.

Echo glanced down at his paws. The bandages were blackened and crumbling, and even still emitted faint wisps of arcane-smelling golden smoke. He quickly reached inside the sash worn around his waist and produced a small glass vial. He wouldn’t have much time.

Working swiftly, he ripped off a chunk of the still-smouldering bandages and placed it inside the vial, stoppering it with a cork. He held it up for scrutiny. Curious. Even cut off from air, it continued to burn...

Speaking of, the rest of his bandages had continued to burn, and he proceeded to tear these away and throw them into the sand, where they were consumed with golden fire until nothing was left but ash. His forearms felt painfully sensitive to the harsh desert sun, the pale, puckered scarring almost sizzling under the heat. He wiggled his fingers.

A low groan from the pony lying at his feet levered his mind back onto the rails.

Right.

There was a reason he’d taken the scenic route to Roam.

With a click of his tongue, he gently hauled the pegasus-cocoon over his shoulders, fireman style. Climbing to the top of the dune rewarded him with much of the same view as before, except from a marginally higher vantage point.

Except there on the horizon. Was that it? He shaded his eyes with a paw. Too far away to tell. Echo opened up the compass that dangled from around his neck.

Appleoosa, he thought.

The compass spun wildly for a split second, before halting stone-set at the point he’d been eyeing before.

Excellent. Not only had he successfully hijacked the teleportation, he’d proven himself reasonably accurate at magically travelling to a place he’d never seen before with the exception of maps and books. His paws still felt tingly from ripping that dragonfire apart and shaping it to his will.

Amazing, the kind of stuff one could learn from a book! He’d have to look into completing Starswirl the Bearded’s Appendix Arcana. If the first edition had served him this well, who knew what he might accomplish. He grinned. Why should unicorns have all the fun?

As a parting thought, he glanced back down at the compass.

Home.

The compass began to spin.

Echo scowled and made a rude noise at the object, before slinging it around his neck once more. It was hot, even more so without his hood and robe. He was beginning to pant. Time was now of the essence.

Whistling a catchy tune from a thought-forgotten place and time, the diamond dog set off at an easy lope, singing in his head to chip away at the hours-long journey ahead.

What’s going on?
Could this be my understanding?
It’s not your fault,
I was being too demanding.
I must admit!
It’s my pride that made me distant.
All because
I hoped that you’d be someone different.

Oh, yes indeed, he could feel it in his bones. Today was a day for movers and shakers, destroyers and makers. He had a long list to accomplish in the time alone he’d bought himself. But first... first he and Daring were going to have a talk that was long overdue.

He’d always known this day would come.

There’s not much I know about you.

Fear will always make you blind.

But the answer is in clear view.

It’s amazing what you’ll find — face to face...

While its wares oftentimes produced the same effect, the Appleoosan salt bar was nevertheless a vendor of a different sort of product, and was obliged by the powers that be to open at a different time of day than the places of sin and gin.

The various occupants of the fine establishment simultaneously winced as the bar doors were thrown open, letting in retina-searing sunlight into the dankly lit cave of intoxicate consumption. A moment later, a tall, lanky silhouette ducked through the entrance. He drew eyes for a few moments, but the the regulars were either too far gone or too lazy to care much about a travel-worn diamond dog in a hood with an exhausted-looking pegasus riding piggyback.

Echo raised an eyebrow at the place, guessed the vibe he was feeling was what it must feel like to be in a poorly-funded spaghetti western. Or a mediocre story with an author desperate enough to go for that sort of thing. He snorted softly and approached the bar.

“What’ll it be, stretch?” asked the bartender, looking up, up, up, at the towering figure.

He pointed to the tap, then held up two fingers.

The bartender frowned. “Water?” Who comes into a salt bar to drink water? Well, the guy had paid. With a shrug, he filled up two large glasses full from the tap, adding an ice cube in each with a flourish. He was feeling generous today.

Echo gave him a nod of thanks, and retreated to the darkest corner he could find. There, he slid into the booth, softly depositing his cargo in the seat across from him.

Daring Do slumped over the table, letting her head rest on the cool, pitted surface. She’d been quiet the entire time, ever since the teleport. He’d tried to talk to her, but found that her mind had become almost impenetrable, veiled by a solid wall of thought that surely hid a churning mind.

He let her be. When she was ready, she would come to him, because she knew he had the answer. Whether or not she was ready for what it meant, though, was still in the air.

In the meantime...

Echo reached into their saddlebag, the other member of the pair still with Ginger Snap (wherever she might be), rummaging around for a few moments, before catching hold of something. He pulled, and a pale mustachioed alicorn’s head was suddenly yanked out of the bag.

“I have no idea how I got in here,” said Entropy. “I’m supposed to be comedic relief, but I think I’m in the wrong chapter.”

Echo stared at him a moment.

Then shoved him back inside.

Another moment of digging produced a scrap of parchment and a pen. Echo also removed the vial from his sash, checking to see if the contents were still smouldering within. They were, he noted with a blink.

He began to write;

Dear Lady Pyrite,
I hope this finds you in good time. I’ve never attempted to send documents in this manner before. Regardless, no doubt you may find yourself wondering as to where I’ve gotten off to. No, I have not abandoned our agreement, and as a sign of trust, I will tell you that I am in Appleoosa. I have taken a detour to further the cause of my pack, and attend to some personal matters as well. The secrecy of my objectives required me to operate in such an underhanded manner, and for that, I apologize. I invite you to join me here when the situation up North has stabilized. I must ask that you not antagonize Ginger Snap and the others, they will come around to your presence when you have proven yourself worthy of their attentions. But to find friendship, and thus improve upon the truest hoard, you must master these five qualities:
Loyalty. Generosity. Honesty. Kindness. Laughter.
The magic of friendship will come to you only then, if you truly wish to be redeemed.
See you soon.
Your Friend,
Echo

Satisfied with the message, he rolled it tightly and bound it with a red ribbon. Now came the tricky part.

He opened up the vial and sprinkled all the smouldering ashes onto the letter, holding it in his bare hands as he gently blew upon the cinders. They caught almost immediately, the dry parchment igniting with golden flame. Fixing an image of the recipient in his mind, he then tossed the burning article into the air. It dissolved into fire before it could fall back down, and the licks of gold abruptly zipped away from the table, out a nearby window, and streaked for the northern horizon.

Despite everything, Echo grinned. He might have just made history. The first diamond dog to send a message by way of dragonfire! The founding fathers of magic would be rolling in their graves if they knew.

Then, and only then, did he begin to drink his water. It tasted a bit like metal, but he actually preferred that flavor nowadays.

How strange. How strange, indeed.

He sat in the darkened corner and began to think. Daring was going to return to herself eventually, and when she did, he would need to explain himself. He would need to tell her exactly why she had acted the way she did back in the cave. She probably already had a theory brewing — she was smarter than he was, in a sense — but he would blow that out of the water.

The facts were simple:

They were bound at the soul by magic, a bond that was a blessing as much as it was a curse. They could feel what the other felt, think what the other thought, and see what the other saw.

However, that link carried a darker burden. Primordial instincts also crossed the gap. Echo caught himself wistfully glancing at the sky now and again, longing to feel the rush of wind through his ears, even spending long hours atop the roof of their caravan in an attempt to feel closer to the heavens. It was an actual medical condition, he’d discovered, called skysickness, unique in pegasi whom for one reason or another found themselves with wings clipped. Daring, though... Daring’s brain was being forced to accept a program not designed for a creature of her wiring.

In the cave, Daring had wanted to kill the Lady. It was in a moment of weakness, brought about by a sense of betrayal and confusion, and could be forgivable under most circumstances.

What deeply unsettled Echo, however, was the why. He had felt every ounce of scalding wrath pouring across the link. Daring had wanted to kill not out of anger or spite or even a sense of duty.

She had been moved by revenge.

And Echo knew, deep in his heart of hearts, there was only one creature on this world capable of being guided to such an ends by such a means.

Himself.

Not the diamond dog shell he inhabited, but the soul within, the very real, very fallible core of identity he still clung to. Even diamond dogs would not kill for revenge. They fought for honor and glory and pride, but never revenge. Ponies were even morally higher, meting out only justice. They always believed the act to be to right a wrong, to do better, never simply to even the score. Frost Snap’s actions within the Greenclaw Den had been in the name of bringing a criminal and his accomplices to heel, no matter how personally biased he was. Ginger Snap’s execution of Ahuitzotl at Wethoof had been fueled by the need to halt a monster before he could harm any more innocents.

Nothing else in Equestria carried that cruel capacity to hold a life to so little value.

And try as he might to repress his natural-born instincts, they were leaking out.

Through her.

Echo sipped at his glass. He was not sure what could be done. He did not know how she would be affected by this new pattern of thought within her. For the first time, Echo didn’t have an answer to this problem.

But he did, however, have faith.

With that in mind, he reached across the table and with a touch soft enough for butterfly wings, brushed away the mane that had fallen over Daring’s face. She’d fallen asleep hunched over the table. His fingers prickled with consciousness. She was dreaming. A gentle surge through his fingertips, and the link was restored.

A moment later, his body slumped back against his seat, eyes fluttering closed.

Dust shimmered through the beams of light, cast from shattered window sills and punctured walls.

Inside the ruins of a once-great library, a small pegasus was curled up under a moldy table in the corner, stifled sobs shaking her body with an almost violent intensity. Her coat was the color of desert sand, her mane a raven black.

There was no other sound to be heard aside from her wretched sobs.

She felt terrible. Like something was crawling around in her chest and wanted out. Something dark and frightening. Something strangely alluring. Maybe she wanted it to come out? Maybe she should —

— No. No, that would be wrong.

Something was wrong. She was sure of it.

Sniffling, the filly uncurled herself and peered out from underneath the table.

She knew this place.

“Trottingham Public Library,” she read aloud from a sign near a grand set of double doors. But that was impossible... Trottingham Public had burned to the ground three days after her cuteceñera. And yet, here she was, in the very place her life of adventure and excitement had begun.

She wiped some snot off herself with a hoof, blinking away tears.

“H-hello?”

That was stupid. The place had been abandoned to mice and mold long before she’d been born, replaced by a newer facility at the nearby university. The city had never got around to demolishing the old one, though, and it had fallen into ruin. Who in Equestria would answer ba —

“Hey, Dares.”

Something crept out from in between the rotten shelves, moving with surprising softness for being so tall. It was pale and hairless, clothed in tattered blue rags below the waist, and above was an old green sweatshirt, open down the front and sleeves unprofessionally ripped off. The hood was up, but she could see the strange, squashed-looking face within the shadows, and the odd little half-smile it carried.

She slowly backed under the table, eyes wide. “Who... are you?” She swallowed. “How do you know my name?”

The thing came to a stop a fair distance away. Far enough that she felt she could run if it tried anything, but close enough for her to make it out in detail. “My name?” It said softly. “My name...”

She could only stare. It’s mouth wasn’t moving, but it was making sound all the same.

It began to laugh.

“You know, I’ve actually forgotten! I don’t think I’d recognize it anyway. It belonged to a different person.” The thing scratched its head with a pale, hairless paw, dextrous little fingers wiggling like worms. “That’s... jeez, kind of sad, actually. But for the sake of what you already know, just keep calling me Echo.”

“Ec-cho!?”

She felt herself spasm. Her stomach clenched with discomfort as the fit passed. Why did the space underneath the table seem so small all of a sudden? She blew her bangs out of her face. They hadn’t been that long a moment ago. “I... think I know you,” she said slowly. Her mind felt foggy and sluggish, unwilling to cooperate with her. Memories were trying to surface, but met a strange resistance.

“Only a little. I’m here to show you the rest.”

“What if I don’t want to see what you have to show me?”

In response to that, the thing threw back its hood. It had odd little ears on the side of its head, not the top, and its face looked like if a pony had lost its muzzle and stuck a little knob on in place of it. With those strange fingers, it reached around it’s neck and pulled off a golden chain, dangling from which was a very familiar golden compass.

Daring jumped, bumping her head against the table. “Hey!” she squeaked. “That’s mine!” Yep, it had definitely gotten smaller under here.

“It is. You gave it to me because you trusted me to keep it safe.”

The creature tossed it across the library. She leaned out of her cover and caught her precious treasure in her left wing. The right wing brushed away the last of her tears. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

She narrowed her eyes at it. “Keep my compass safe, stupid!”

It grinned a little, showing off little pointy teeth in the corners of its mouth. “Of course,” it softly said.

“Hmmph.” She crept out a little further, holding it up to the light. The golden compass had been polished recently, many of the scratches that adorned it in her early days buffed out by tender love and care. She flipped it open, watching the needle spin. “How does it work? If I really gave it to you, I would have told you that.”

“It’s called the Homeward Rose. It will point to any real place that the user knows the location of. Home especially.” The creature seemed to wince a little at that. “Very rare. Very useful. And very important to you.”

She began to cautiously circle the creature, picking her way carefully over spilled books and ruined furniture. Every time she passed through a beam of sun, her fur lit up a brilliant amber-gold. It made no move towards her, remaining standing on its hind legs with forelimbs clasped behind its back, facing the same direction as before but watching her with pale gray eyes whenever she came into view.

“Why are you doing that?” she demanded.

“Doing...”

“Standing like that. Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No. It’s natural for me to be like this.” It chuckled. “Takes a couple years to get the hang of, though.”

“Right. Now, what the hay are you?”

It paused, finally turning to face her. She halted her pacing.

“I am what is known as a human being. Homo sapiens, in the dead language.”

“‘Kay... and how do I know you... Echo? I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“I saved your life. You saved mine in return.” It pulled apart the sweatshirt covering its torso, revealing a massive, ugly scar right across the base of his neck. “Couldn’t save my voice though, but I’ve learned to make do.”

“Yeah...” She felt herself spasm again at the sight of the wound. “I think I remember... it was in the jungle... I was being chased. Corned at the river.” She blinked. Had her voice gotten a little deeper? “Ahuitzotl was there. You... fought them off, bought me time. And then...”

It tapped the scar again.

“...That happened.” She finished lamely. “But we got away, didn’t we? In the river. And I stitched you back up with —”

“— bootlaces,” they said at the same time.

It smiled again. “Yeah. Keep going.”

She frowned. “But... I don’t think you were you. You didn’t look like this, I mean.”

“No.” The creature’s form flickered for an instant, becoming a good foot taller and much bulkier, soft reddish-brown fur covering its body as long white fangs glinted from its mouth. “You see me in my second skin. It was thanks to the entity you know as Discord that changed me, took me from my home and sent me to the jungle.”

“Discord... why would he do that to you?”

“Because I asked,” it said with a sad tone of voice. Without checking to see if she came, it began to move through the library, down the large aisle in the center that ran to the staircase in the back.

She found herself hesitantly following several paces behind, compass lightly slapping against her breast with every step.

The staircase took them to a tight, crumbling hallway. The walls’ deterioration had progressed to such a state that she could stick her head through some of the holes. Doing so rewarded her with a view of the city. Unsettlingly enough, there was nothing outside the library that she recognized, just generic brick and stone buildings scattered haphazardly around. Her old, familiar neighborhood was gone. Even the ponies looked strange. She called out and waved to one, and when they looked, she jumped away from the hole with a strangled gasp. They had no faces.

Shuddering, the pegasus scampered on down the hall, where a strip of rags swishing around the corner told her the path to follow.

When she rounded the turn, however, the human had vanished and the hallway had changed. The spongy wooden boards faded away to dark metals and pale plastic. The walls and ceiling were almost solidly black, so dark they appeared to vanish. Soft lights were embedded into the floor, and as she cautiously crept onwards, felt the vaguest impression of a runway.

“Are you all right, Dares?” its voice asked from somewhere ahead. She was beginning to get a sense of vertigo from this place.

“Yeah,” she muttered. There was no end in sight. She certainly didn’t remember this particular stretch in the library.

“I can tell when you’re lying, you know.”

She whirled around, but saw nothing. The hallway vanished into the distance, the corner she had rounded suddenly gone.

“What, can hyoo-mans read minds?”

“You have a tell. The primaries on your left wing always give a little twitch.”

“No I don’t.” She paused, fixing the accused appendage with a glare. Sure enough, the tawny feathers were giving the slightest of trembles. “...How did you know that?”

“I know you very well, Dares. But you don’t know me. That’s why you’re here. You aren’t feeling well, are you?”

“No,” she admitted. That thing was crawling around in her chest again, pushing things aside and slithering around in her flesh.

“You’ve got what I have.”

She frowned, rubbing her breast with a hoof. “A disease?”

“No. A state of being.”

“I...” There was a light at the end of the hallway. She broke into a gallop for it, wings flapping at her sides for that extra boost of speed.

“And no matter how much you try to flee it, the problem is going to be with you!” the voice called.

She burst through the light, momentarily blinded. When the glare faded, she saw that she was standing in the old library’s planetarium. Dust feel peacefully from the rafters, and large circular models — some larger than her — of the heavens swayed gently back and forth from fraying ropes.

It was sitting on the sphere closest to her, the blue and green one, legs crossed beneath it and holding onto the rope with one arm. “But if you can face it, tame it, embrace it, then it won’t be harmful. It might even make you stronger,” it said.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Humanity. You and I are linked, Dares. We share things, things normally bound to the mind and soul. Do you remember that?”

She... thought she did. Another shuddering seizure wracked her body, and she fell to her knees, gasping. Through her mind’s eye ran images of a powerful magic storm, terrible blast of light and heat,, but swiftly followed by a comforting presence, pouring itself over the hurt like the cool waters of a river. Her head felt just a bit more crowded than before, as if an extra thought were swimming about, one that she could not remember thinking.

Echo?

Her voice definitely sounded deeper. She stood again up again, and found her legs had grown, too. She was getting bigger! She wasn’t a filly anymore... but not yet a mare. She flapped her wings, feeling the developing muscles flex and stretch. That thing under her skin clawed and squeezed, having grown with her. It was getting even worse.

I’m here. You’re doing great.

The answering thought was warm and soothing, the kind of voice she’d thought would tell her stories as she was tucked in for the night. Allowing herself to be calmed by it, she observed the planetarium. “I don’t remember it being set up like this,” she commented.

Dangling in the center of the room was an enormous yellow sphere, so dirty that she could barely make out the flicker of a luminescent crystal from within. Normally Equestria took the central slot. Close to it was a smaller orb, gray and rocky. Beyond that, a pale one, larger and streaked. Echo’s orb lay next, and it seemed Luna’s moon had moved close to his. Farther out, a red sphere, rusty and cold. Beyond that, the planets grew huge again, one even sporting an enormous ring.

This is my home.

The creature tapped his orb with a pale, fleshy foot.

My star, my sun, is called Sol, and is in the center of the system. My planet, my homeworld, is called Earth. There is no magic here. We weren’t so lucky.

An ominous creak sounded from the rafters above, and the entire contraption lurched into motion, old gears and cogs groaning in protest. The orbs began to move in a wide orbit around the yellow one, some slow, others fast.

It takes three-hundred and sixty-five days to make a trip around Sol; one year. My kind has existed in roughly this state for the past two-hundred thousand years. Life has been on our world for three and a half billion. The earth itself has existed for four and a half.

“So... where do you fit in?”

I am a human, descended from an unbroken line of creatures that stretches all the way back to the very beginning. Life on Earth is hard and unforgiving, but rewards those who can learn to survive. Those who can adapt will pass on what they know. Eventually, the creatures themselves will begin to change to their new habits, and although this process takes eons, will result in the success or death of a species. It’s kill or be killed on Earth. Everything has learned to defend itself, take you down before you know what’s happened, or leave you in its dust.

She was struck speechless.

But humans... we were the best at it. We weren’t the strongest, or fastest, or the most poisonous... and we certainly aren’t the most impressive. But we were smart. Some say too smart. And we used our intellect to catapult ourselves from primitives huddling in caves to the masters of the land. After we conquered nature, we built cities from dust and miracles from ashes. But all that knowledge, all the power, it changed us, warped us, and we only turned on each other, unable to let go of the drive to dominate, to rise to the top, even though there were no more rungs on the ladder.

Just then, the blue and green orb it rode upon broke free, the rotten rope finally sucumbing to time and gravity. It leapt clear and rolled as it landed near her, smoothly popping back up on hind legs as the model planted was crushed to pulp and splinters.

It looked sadly at the remains.

Alone, we are merely dangerous. Together, we are nigh unstoppable. And it is our instincts that you have begun to harbor within yourself.

She glanced down at her breast as a particularly painful twinge hitched her lungs.

“I... don’t want this thing inside me,” she said.

Then let it out. Control it. It’s a part of you, now. Never fight who you are. Embrace it. Wear it like armor. Drink it like wine. Hate it if you will, love it if you must. But never deny what you are, for your identity is the greatest strength a soul can bear.

She swallowed. “But... will I become... like you? Humans sound horrible...”

It laughed, even though the mouth never opened. There are bad humans and good humans, just like there are good ponies and bad ponies. What makes us different is what we do with what we have.

“What about you?”

Me?

Her brow furrowed, thoughts beginning to race within her fevered mind. “You said we share things. Isn’t that two ways? Doesn’t that mean while I’m getting all this... human... in me, you’re getting pony?”

It winced. She saw something shiver within his torso.

I am. And eventually... we’re going to meet somewhere in the middle. But that won’t be for a while, and the real test here is going all the way.

The floor beneath them began to groan ominously. She was suddenly struck by the realization that this entire level of the library was at risk of collapse. “We should go,” she said.

Lead on, as always. You know this place better than I.

She did. But instead of returning to the musty wreck down below, she continued across the planetarium and through the doorway on the far wall. She picked a random direction at the new hallway presented and began at a cautious canter.

One staircase later, and she fancied she could hear the sound of birds and smell the salty harbor air.

The laboratories on the upper levels had normally been off-limits to the public. Here, the local university students and their professors spent their time experimenting. Concoctions of chemicals, mixtures of matter, and the designs of dreams still littered the tables and benches of the place, combined with a stale tang in the air that described years of immobile ingredients. It had been off limits to the common pony, of course, but she was anything but a common pony.

They walked amongst the ruined equipment, the crunching of glass beneath them almost obnoxiously loud.

What happened to this place?

She sighed, peering into the murky depths of a beaker at a dark, purple-ish fluid within. It smelled like dead fish and eggplants. “Lack of funding, mostly. The University built a new library on-campus, and they were the major source of coin for the place. After the academics left... it didn’t last long.”

The human inspected a contained of its own, letting out a hiss and wincing away as it noted its reflection. She barely made it out, but the brief flicker of motion was something warped and twisted, something caught in between a bunch of strings and pulled every which way.

Just then, her chest exploded into pain. She dropped on the spot, too surprised to react in any other way than simply fall face-first into the ground. “Aaagh-k-k!” she screamed, writhing.

A concerned face appeared above her, a gentle hand laying itself on her thrashing limbs.

You’ve g-got to let her out, Dares!

“How!?” she howled.

Stop... holding her back.

“That doesn’t answer — AGH!” She curled into a ball as something slammed into the inside of her chest. “...My question. Gkk!” Her mane fell in front of her face. Once raven-black, it had grayed into an intriguing colorless rainbow.

C-c’mere.

She was being scooped up, cradled now. They were moving again. She could feel something moving within its ribcage, bucking and roiling almost tit-for-tat with hers. She hadn’t considered Echo would be in the same predicament.

Lurching, the human staggered through the decrepit laboratories, shouldering open the final staircase in the library.

The clocktower.

She knew this place. It was as ingrained to her as the mark upon her flanks. This was the very spot where she had earned it, after all. The first expedition of an illustrious career; the library’s forbidden floor. It wasn’t exactly a grand treasure hunt... but it was a start, and she’d never forgotten the thrill of making it to a place few ponies had ever even seen.

Here, high above the city, amongst the rusting cogs and disintegrating masonry, they collapsed in a heap. Corroding iron dusted the floor, and the mighty, broken clock face had long since shattered, allowing the full light of day to shine through. The unsettling groaning of the entire structure was overlooked in their plight as they lay side by side, each convulsing their own throes.

“What’s going on!?” she shrieked above the sound of her blood roaring through her ears.

You’re waking u-up.

The floor trembled beneath them. The walls began to creak.

The human’s body flickered again, and suddenly in its place a tall, thin diamond dog, shuddering on the floorboards right alongside her. He looked over at her.

“Why does this hurt so much?” she wheezed.

Your b-body may have already... gah... already accepted the changes. He was struck a with a powerful spasm, going completely rigid for a moment while the thing in his chest kicked harder and hard. But only now h-has your mind begun!

He jerked again, and something punched straight through his ribcage. His face contorted into one long, silent, scream, and the diamond dog shuddered once more before falling still.

It was a hoof.

In the blinding waves of her own agony, she watched as the hoof twitched, planted itself on the dead husk, and began to push, soon followed by a shoulder, a neck, a head... a body... an entire pony slithered out, covered in unnatural birthing. It was an earth pony, palomino with deep dark-brown spots blending in with creamy yellow, a shaggy, brownish-red mane covering his eyes, a pale gray. Across his throat lay a wide, ugly scar.

The stallion lay there next to her, gasping.

And she began to scream. It felt like her insides were about to explode, to tear themselves to pieces, set themselves afire and force themselves right out her body.

They didn’t.

A hand, however, did.

Her ribcage finally buckled, and a thin, pale, bloodied hand ripped her apart. She stopped screaming. She felt herself getting tired, just lying there at this thing coming out of her chest and she just felt like going to sleep right there oh why oh why was the floor moving why was she so tired...

“NO!”

She clawed herself back from the dark brink, and pushed against all sanity to fight, to live. She rose. She pulled herself up and up and up, through the red and the salt and the light.

A slender body slipped away from its shell, breathing its first real breaths.

Daring Do opened her eyes.

The stallion was looking back at her.

“Echo...”

He held up a hoof.

Her hand rose up to meet it. Her golden compass wrapped its chain around the joining.

And then the library crumbled.

In the comforting dark of the saloon, Echo surged back into himself, coming awake with such force that he jerked back in his seat, slamming the back of his head into the wall.

Across the table, Daring stirred, a twitch and then a cute sneeze. She groggily raised herself up off the table, smacking her lips.

They blinked at each other for a while.

“That... really happened, then,” Daring finally said.

Echo could only nod. The connection was still shaky at best.

Daring put her head in her hooves, slowly massaging her temples. “So... you mean to tell me that all this time you’ve been an Outlander?”

The diamond dog furrowed his brow, before holding out a paw. She met it. What is an Outlander?

“I’ve only heard mention of them in the oldest texts and carvings,” Daring said. “Always described as ‘children from the stars.’”

Echo was genuinely surprised, something he thought did not happen enough. You mean to tell me there are more humans here?

“No... I mean, you... um...”

Humans.

“Right. One would think there’d be more variety than just humans and ponies. I’ve seen fragments describing all sorts of species. But to meet one in the flesh!” She leaned backwards, giving him a rueful grin. “Oh, I always knew you had something up your sleeve. You never fail to astound me.”

You’re taking this relatively well, all things considering.

Daring tapped her free hoof against the table. “This whole situation, an Outlander in Equestria, isn’t that unheard of. There used to be hundreds! But... as far as I know, the last of them either died or disappeared almost eight centuries years ago. Those that didn’t go into hiding...”

What? Echo’s ears pricked. What happened to them?

“Celestia happened, apparently.” Daring shuddered. “After Nightmare Moon used some Outlanders in her rebellion — to horrific results, might I add — Celestia began to hunt them down. She offered two choices; stasis, or deportation from the realm of Equestria itself.”

The diamond dog slumped and seemed to shrink in size. I suddenly regret ever making jokes about Mexicans.

“Who?’

Nothing. Look. Dares... I really want to apologize for this. For everything. Keeping you in the dark about this — it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. To you. To us. I was just... afraid, I guess. I was afraid of what you’d think of me knowing that I wasn’t... normal.”

“Normal?” Daring exclaimed. “You’ve never been anything but.” She pulled away from him, breaking the contact. “And you should be apologizing. This kind of information is dangerous. You never lied to me about it, but you never told the truth, either. That hurts.”

Echo stared at his paws.

Daring continued at a murmur. “Look... this does change a few things. And I’m sure we can work through them. But... Echo, hun. This is pretty huge. I’m gonna need some time to get my head around it all. And... until then... maybe we should cool things off a little bit. I just. I can’t go back to the way things were like that.”

Her companion slowly nodded at this, and wiped at his face with an arm.

“I’ll always be there for you, big guy. You’re my best friend. You complete me. And you’ll always be there for me, no matter what. We’re a team. But... I think we need to take a step backwards, at least for awhile.” Daring shakily exhaled. “I know you’re sorry. I want to forgive you, too, but... this is just too big to brush off like that.”

Echo sniffled. The sound was so surprising that she looked up at him in shock. Even more astounding was the wetness brimming in his eyes. But the small smile he wore said it all — he was in agreement, even if it hurt.

The diamond dog downed his glass of water and abruptly placed it back down, before standing up. He jerked his head towards the door.

Daring slowly crept out of the booth. “So... care to explain what we’re doing here?” she asked, faintly brushing up against his side as they moved through the saloon.

Gonna stack the cards in Ginger’s favor. But first, I need some info from an old friend of mine.

She gave him a look. “Who do you know in Appleoosa?”

Echo didn’t answer, instead choosing to push through the swinging doors and out into the stinging sunlight.

Sitting calmly in the middle of the road was a golden dragoness, looking for all the world as if she were reclining in the shade in some imagined paradise far away. Lady Pyrite clicked her tongue, addressing him. “It is fortunate you are here now. The ponies have begun to grow wary.” Sure enough, the local Appleoosans were leaning on their railings and reclining in their shaded boardwalk chairs, as they always did around this time of day, but a marked tension could be felt in the air.

Daring immediately bristled. “What’s she doing here?”

Echo brushed past her, murmuring as he did, “I asked her to come. Just because you have a piece of an alien race inside you doesn’t mean you’re incapable of civility. No, this is from what’s already there. Give her a chance, Dares. At least that much.” The diamond dog gave the dragoness a short bow and a half-hearted smile, before continuing on down the road. Daring remained on the covered walkway, dumbstruck.

Lady Pyrite turned to follow, offering her a neutral raise of her eye-ridge. The unspoken invitation was genuine, at least.

Daring frowned, hopping down to the road and falling in beside the golden dragoness. “I don’t like you,” she said out of the corner of her mouth keeping her eyes on the plodding diamond dog further up the street.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” came the deadpan reply.

“You being here is a mistake,” Daring continued at a whisper.

The Lady didn’t bat an eye. “Perhaps. We shall see what becomes of this experiment. It is a worthy alternative to sleeping for centuries at a time.”

Daring’s nostrils flared as she exhaled, narrowing her gaze. “You get one chance. One. Chance. If I see even the slightest of slip-ups, I’ll buck your fangs straight down your throat.”

And with that, she tore off after Echo, leaving a very amused dragoness padding easily down the dusty desert road.

“What exactly are we doing here?” she grouchily asked him.

“Ever hear of the Dust Devils?” he replied, the smallest of contacts occurring as he walked beside her.

“Yeah. Another diamond dog pack. Been causing problems for the local farm.”

Echo grinned.

“Well... not for much longer.”

Achievement Earned- "Human After All"

Level Up!- Echo Ghostclaws, Beta of the Cinderwings + Dr. Daring Do, PhD.

-Perk: The Code (+5 gentleman, +5 spirit) Every chivalrous man has a set of rules he shall never cross. But... in the game of love an war... they're more like guidelines, anyway.

-Perk: Prototype Telepathy Spell: (+6 intellect, +20 magic) [RANK 2] Continued usage and experimentation of the magical link between the two of you has resulted in an unexpected amplification of the spell matrix. You are now able to have the same dreams, among other things.

-New Spell: Mammalian Mask: You have learned the art of altering your physical state. Echo can now access his pony form during dreaming and special magical circumstances, and the same applies to Daring's human form.

Region Discovered!: Appleloosa

[II - Seventh] From the Ashes Descends a Phoenix

View Online

This chapter dedicated to Rune Heart, in recognition of his mad MarioKart skills.

ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE SEVENTH

In which Hasbro steals Ginger's character design for Sunset Shimmer, and are encouraged to suck eggs...

Ginger Snap

Roam.

The last bastion of the old world. Of a time before harmony, before friendship, before peace. A prelude to even the arrival of the Alicorns, who tried and failed to tame the great city. After the great Queen fell in battle beneath its glacier walls, Roam was forsaken by the divine rulers of the land, fearful of losing another to the bloody ice blades of the North. Not even Sombra, mad as he was, dared test the might of his Empire against it.

It was said that the cold winds of the North hardened the hearts and chilled the souls of those who dwelt there. While that wasn't anywhere near truth, it wasn't entirely a lie, either. Behind the frozen ramparts, the city lived on as it always had, violent and ruthless and terribly alive.

Staring up at the colossal gates to the city from a rise a half-mile away, a cloaked unicorn absently blew a strand of fiery mane away from her goggled vision, dark smithing lenses reflecting the bright arctic sun. She cracked her neck, scowling.

The blizzard had whirled out of nowhere. It might have lasted days, or it might have lasted months. The only thing she was sure of, was that she'd lost time. Badly.

Not even bothering to glance over her shoulder, she barked, "Roll call!"

Movement from behind her, figures emerging from the northern wastes.

"Yeller here." A gruff, graying diamond dog shuffled out of the snow behind her, covered in thick rags and leaning heavily on his crooked spear. Golden earrings jingled on his ears. Old Yeller was steadfast, experienced, and most importantly, reliable. For the time being, he was acting Beta.

A younger diamond dog bounded up next. "Rin-Tin-Tin!" The male was darker, with short fur and a long snout, clad in a sleeveless padded vest while a menacing battleaxe poked out from behind one shoulder. He gaped at the city with a eager glint in his eyes. Strong, though a touch clumsy, he was the fighter of the group, always ready for a scrap.

"Lassie." Chocolate brown, sleek, and long-furred, the pack's archer glided forwards with steady pawsteps. Intelligence was her best quality, and rarely had the unicorn encountered such a sharp mind. Though she did tend to be a bit naive about things...

Another female stalked after the first, this one quite pretty, her coat a bloody red with a white tuft on her bushy tail. "Here~!" she sang. Twin daggers glinted from a gem-studded belt and her collar shone silver, embossed with the crimson fire ruby that all the others' wore. Vixen, true to her name, was (usually) subtle and alluring, but competent enough once she stopped scheming about taking the true Beta back to her den.

Something smaller waddled forth, huddling itself underneath the unicorn's chest and burrowing against her, shivering. "Z-z-zanza!" squeaked the ball of wrappings, a hint of her striped face peering out from behind the layers. The youngest member of the pack, the little zebra's hunt for her missing parents was half the reason the pack had come to Roam in the first place.

"I am here assssss well..." declared a serpentine voice, and a lithe, golden dragoness joined the group, seemingly undisturbed by the chill in the air. The Lady Pyrite idly inspected a wing, shaking off a layer of snow that had built up on her side. "Thissss place hassss quite the penchant for sssssssudden ssssstorms." The unicorn wasn't sure how far the dragoness' loyalties lay, but her Beta had said she would behave herself. For now.

"Welcome to the frozen plothole of the world," muttered the goggled unicorn. "Any word on Echo and Daring?" she asked through gritted teeth.

The dragoness paused, looking as though she were about to say something, when her eye twitched. She jerked -- winced backwards -- and sneezed, a stream of golden fire shooting a full ten feet, right into the unicorn's face. The entire pack, save the unicorn, winced away at the sudden heat. The unicorn herself looked only annoyed by the blast.

A letter dropped to the ground in front of Pyrite. Arching an eyebrow, she opened it and read. After a moment, she smirked, baring fangs. "That would be them now. Ssssseems like they decided to take the... ssssscenic route?" she chuckled.

"Where?" demanded the unicorn.

"Aappleoosa," Pyrite responded.

"Why in Equestria..." the unicorn shook her head. "You know what? No. I don't care. He did it for a reason, and he's obviously got something up his sleeve." At the confirming nod of the golden drake, she added, "but I am going to kick his furry butt into the ground when I see him again. This is the last time he pulls a stunt like this and gets away with it."

"He assssked of me to join him..." Pyrite began. "I assssume he'll need me to come here."

"Then do it."

"Hmmmph. You could be lesssssss... mhh, tessssty about it. We are supposed to be friendssss." Pyrite coyly batted her eyelashes.

"Do it. Please?" Winced the unicorn.

"Better."

With a flash of golden fire, the dragoness vanished from the spot. For a while after that, nopony moved, nopony spoke. The group stood there in solitude, before the huge gates of Roam, stained forever red by the lifeblood of an Alicorn. One could actually see the small scarlet splotch right at the center, even from this distance, where the slabs of ice met the ground.

Ginger Snap slowly lifted her goggles up just below her horn, brilliant pale-green eyes scanning the entrance. A thick, pink-and-red striped scarf itched at her neck, but she knew that it and her battered leather barding were the only things keeping the chill at bay, a chill that even she could feel.

"Don' wanna go in there," muttered one of the dogs. She couldn't tell which. "Smells like bad things."

"Mmmhmm," another quietly added.

At her hooves, the little zebra shivered, huddling for warmth. Ginger glanced down at the foal, hesitating a bit, before squeezing her. "Balto's in there," she said. "Your parents, too. We aren't leaving without either of them."

Zanza sniffled, nodding stiffly.

Ginger shrugged, letting her sword rattle in the sheath she had slung across her shoulders. "Come on," she ordered. "We need to get in there before night falls. I don't want to spend another night out in the snow. Cinderwings..." Ginger glanced at the ragged remnants of her pack. They weren't much, but they were hers. They were family.

She knew that wouldn't be enough to survive this.

"...Let's move out."

It took almost an entire minute at a brisk trot to pass beneath the glacier wall of Roam. Ginger supposed there was a reason the city had never been taken from an outside army. The walls were too thick, the defenders too vicious. Even now, she could still picture the mammoth catapults and siege weaponry atop the walls, and the rugged equine defenders that manned them. The North bred a different sort of pony, thick-furred and strong. Even the mare who let them pass the gates had unshorn fetlocks, and looked like she could snap bones with little effort.

The group emerged out into a market square, ice and cobblestone crunching beneath them as they finally saw the city behind the walls.

Roam wasn't a large city. But it was old, and the ice it was carved from showed that. Buildings from eons ago still stood, intertwined by newer architectures as the denizens of the city passed on. Mighty structures stood tall and proud, platform paths attached to walls, spanning gaps between buildings, sometimes tunnels were dug under. The city itself had no organized structure, it had grown and evolved with the passing of time. As such, it resembled a strange, warped hive of ice, filled with roads that lead to dead-ends, hidden niches and crannies, and impractical, dangerous construction.

And it was throbbing with life.

Beings from all known corners of the world surged along the market square in a cacophony of noise. Equines were abundant: Crystal ponies; bat-ponies; strange hybrids of amphibious seapony-killer whales; donkeys; long-legged Saddle Arabians; pinto mustangs from the desert; the three original tribes were represented, too. Northern breeds of diamond dogs stalked the streets, tall and wolfish. Reindeer pranced along, huge antlers hung with charms and totems. Bare-chested Minotaurs stomped by, cutting paths through the crowds. Gryphons were plentiful, ranging from the predatory hawk-like variety of Equestria to the owlish tribe from across the ocean, and even a hippogriff or two was spotted.

"Stick together!" Ginger called over the roar of commerce, and plunged in without hesitation, little Zanza riding atop her and holding on for dear life.

Jostled, pushed, and battered along, she soon found that it was better to go with the flow than try to strike out in a particular direction. After almost being trampled by a bull Minotaur and pushed over the edge of a railing-less bridge, she soon noticed that they were heading downwards.

She grimaced as the road suddenly plunged into a tunnel. She was not overly fond of caves...

The tide carried them deeper and deeper still, twisting and turning through the depths of the city until Ginger's sense of direction was completely shattered.

Even here, the wonders of Roam continued. Massive columns of ice held up the actual surface city, but down below, it was a world of snaking passages and hidden caverns. Everywhere, homes had been carved out of the ice, sometimes in the most peculiar of places, like a doorway in the ceiling, or a lonely ice-house built atop a teetering stalactite.

As the path continued to divide, the flow eventually waned off, and Ginger soon found herself stopped on a ledge overlooking the main cavern. Her pack came to a halt behind her, Rin-Tin-Tin already sporting a black eye from accidentally stumbling into one of the natives.

A city under the ice.

Here, the temperature was almost tolerable. Below, midst the darkness, lights shone in dwellings and along streets. Ginger spotted a titanic construction a ways off, and pointed. "Ten bits says that is where we'll find Balto."

Old Yeller joined her at the edge. "The arena. I never think I see with my own eyes."

The Grand Arena of Roam. The place of legend, where many heroes of old had ended their quests, and even more villains had vanished into the pages of history. Any slave could win freedom in that bloodied pit, simply by surviving the gauntlet of other slaves that entered there.

That was where Balto probably already was, the traitorous cur. Along with the other half of her pack.

"You know how the stories go," said the elderly diamond dog. "We can wait outside. Ambush him if he wins. If not, then he is dead, and no skin off our bones."

"The matches can last for weeks." Ginger frowned. "And no. We can't just hope he'll die in there. The others are with him. Spot, Luther, and Chance. And Coconut! Celestia, I hope that idiot is all right. We need to go in after him. We need to find out what he's done with Zanza's parents." She glanced behind her, and the little zebra clinging to her neck smiled gratefully. "Then, when I've... dealt with him, we have to make it out of the Pit, find the zebras, get back to Equestria and back to getting you mongrels a proper nation."

"It will not be easy," Old Yeller wheezed.

"I wouldn't be here if it was."

Kth-oooom!

Huddling through a shower of debris, she winced as the back yard exploded for the umpteenth time that day. Blast! She was never going to get the hang of this magic stuff. Another small crater joined a score of others, pitting and marring the surface of the rather charred-looking field behind her home.

She gazed at the results of her efforts with a sigh. Maybe tomorrow...

"Whoo! That was amazing, Gingie! You've been practicing, haven't you?"

That voice.

She knew that voice.

Could it be...?

Ginger spun about, wide-eyed. "M-mom!?"

With a creak of a shutting gate, another pony stepped onto the grass. She was exactly the same as Ginger remembered. Her fur was patchy by her rough forehooves, permanently grayed by coals and heat, and the smiling crimson face was still stained with soot. A smith's hammer was tucked across her shoulders in the crafting harness she rarely took off. The pretty scarlet unicorn in the goggles pumped a hoof in the air. "Heya, kiddo!"

"Mom! Oh my --" Ginger rushed forwards, tackling the mare and smothering her in nuzzles and hugs. "You're finally home! You're finally home! I missed you so much!"

"I can tell," Her mother giggled, holding her wriggling filly close. "I missed you too, Gingie. Have you been behaving for your father?"

The little mare squirmed. "Eh..."

"Ha! That's my girl." With a cheeky grin, Ginger's mother tossed her up over a shoulder, so the filly could ride on her back. "C'mon, lets go surprise him. I've got some stories for you all to hear!"

"How was Canterlot?" Ginger nuzzled into locks of curly mane. Her mother smelled like a warm hearth and cinnamon sticks. She breathed deeply, afraid she'd forget that smell again.

"Canterlot was... Canterlot." Her mother began trotting around the house. A few bags had been stacked up in front of the door, yet to be brought in. "And your relatives wish you well."

Ginger stuck out her tongue. "I don't like them. They're stuffy."

"Yes, well. That may be, but they are still family, and love you very much. Even if my parents --your grandparents-- are a little uptight."

"Grandma makes me wear dresses," Ginger pointed out.

Her mother paused at the doorway. "You look gorgeous in a dress, my little princess."

"Mooooooom!"

Laughing, the two entered the house. The door closed behind them with an ominous creak.

Ginger's eyes snapped open.

She felt... wet?

The room was dark, but she could see steam rising from all around her. Jolting, the unicorn looked down, to discover that the floor had melted in a small circle around her. She was lying in a bowl of hot water, which softly hissed and burbled as it lapped against the ice.

Ginger sighed, extinguishing the flow of magic to her horn, which had probably started several hours ago, judging by the depth of this hole. She sat in the puddle, shivering. It wasn't from the cold. The cold didn't bother her.

It had been a long time since this had happened to her. The first time had been the night before she got her cutie mark. She'd almost burned down the house! That had been fun to try and explain to her parents...

Her parents..

Ginger looked down into the bowl, her reflection looking back at her with worried eyes. Ginger started a little. Was this really what she looked like? It had been some time since she'd really bothered with a mirror. Not since Wethoof, actually. She looked older. A bit gaunt. But still quite pretty, she thought. Her mother's long eyelashes and thoughtful smirk met her father's serious stare and hard features. A strange combination, but she was a strange mare.

Hopping out of the hole, she shook herself off. For the first time in a long while, she had a clear objective in front of her. Enter the notoriously dangerous arena, track down the renegade Balto with all due haste, then proceed to rip his guts out through his eyesockets.

She grinned. Today was shaping up to be a good day.

Most of the other Cinderwings were awake by this time, save Zanza, whom was still dead to the world on the ice couch, swaddled in rags and blankets. Ginger decided it would be prudent to take only one of the diamond dogs with her into the Arena. Old Yeller would stay here with the others and mind the fort, make sure nothing... unexpected happened.

But who to bring?

Rin-Tin-Tin was strong and fast, but not very bright. Ginger didn't need a goon along for the ride, she needed someone who could think on their feet, but still be ruthless enough to survive.

Lassie? Making up in brains for what she lacked in brawn, sure, and a great shot with a bow, but she wasn't exactly the most perceptive. Lassie couldn't track a buffalo in a glassware shop, thought Ginger.

What about...

"Vixen," she called.

The red female's ears perked up. Vixen licked her chops and thumbed the two daggers she kept in her belt. "Yeeeeeeesss, Cindercorn?"

"You're with me."

The more Ginger thought about it, the more confident she felt. Vixen was cunning, not in the predatory way that diamond dogs were, but able to think ahead of the game. She was quick, was more than experienced enough to track Balto down, and she probably wouldn't mind if things got a little... out of hoof.

The other dogs rushed about the small apartment, gathering supplies and equipment for the Alpha and her chosen packmate. Infinite saddlebag, barding, weapons, a large supply of food (because the matches in the arena could take weeks), and several of the explosive pinecones from the mountain. Those might come in handy. Plus, Ginger just had a soft spot for anything that went bang.

Girl's gotta have priorities.

Zanza was awoken by the ruckus. The little zebra shrugged off the blankets, watching the two equipping themselves. "Are you going after them?"

"You got it, kid." Ginger buckled on her scabbard, the arcanite blade within rattling softly. "We'll be back before you know it."

"I want to come with you!" Zanza stood up, eyes shining with determination.

"Yeah, how about not in a million years. Not even if Celestia herself got her fat white behind off the throne, came down from above in a ray of sunlight, planted a big, sloppy kiss on my lips and said 'Please take that filly with you.'"

"But they're my parents!"

Ginger rolled her eyes, snorting, "And if whoever's in the Arena doesn't kill me, they will, for bringing you along there. Trust me, squirt. There's a reason this place has a reputation. A lot of good people have died in there. Like, a --- no, no, you stop that, you stop that right now!"

Zanza's lower lip had begun to tremble. The smallest drop of wetness had begun to form on the edges of her eyes.

"No! Absolutely not!"

Zanza sniffled.

"Maybe we should bring her..." Vixen couldn't look away.

"Maybe you should go to hell!" Ginger barked at her, then back to the filly. "You are going to stay here, where it is safe, and a significantly lowered amount of evil characters are going to try and hurt you. The Cinderwings are bound to keep you safe and find your parents, so that's what we're going to do, whether you like it or not. Got it!?"

"I j-just want to help... I miss them so m-m-much!" Zanza whimpered, gazing sadly down at the floor.

Rin-Tin-Tin scooped her up off the couch and hugged her violently. "Don't worry little stripey pony we'll do a good job, you'll see! Don't be sad, please don't be sad!"

"Rin what are you doing."

The diamond dog looked helplessly at the others. "She so cute I'm gonna die!" He squeezed the filly, who made a sound not unlike a squeaky toy.

"The answer is still, and will always be no." Ginger said. "Rin, put her down before you give her fleas or something."

"Awww..."

Once released, Zanza scampered over and stood before Ginger, looking up at her. "Well, at least let me wish you good luck."

Ginger blinked. "Yeah. Sure, whatever."

Before she could blink, striped hooves wrapped themselves around her neck. Zanza's tiny frame held her tight. "Good luck, Miss Ginger. Please come back. You're kind of cool, for a grown-up," said the filly.

Ginger couldn't move. "Um..." The other diamond dogs suddenly pounced, big furry bodies holding eachother closely in what might have been the most painful group hug of Ginger's life, calling out there own words of encouragement. Say what you will about them, but a diamond dog pack was more like a family than most would realize.

"Stop! Achk! I h-hate you all!" wailed the unicorn from the center of the pile. "I really mean it this time!" Eventually, she fought her way out and made a break for the door. "Vixen! Let's go!" The foxy dog tore after her, extracting herself with haste.

Slamming through the ice door, skidding across the frozen road, and she was off, galloping pell mell for the Arena in the distance and trying as hard as she could not to smile.

Breath hung in the air, along with the bodies who exhaled it.

A couple dozen bits, one bribed official, and several broken jawbones later, Ginger and Vixen sat perched in a swaying cage, suspended above the Arena itself. Ginger pretended not to hear the sounds of Vixen losing her breakfast over the side. Instead, she stayed perfectly still, hoping to not add to the rocking of the infernal contraption. At least the height gave her a good view of her destination, though.

The Grand Arena of Roam was nothing more than a vast sinkhole in the ice, topped by a massive cage, disappearing so far down it turned to blackness. Various bridges of rope and wood (of suspicious quality) spanned the void going every which way, some going down, some rising, others merely traversing the gap. Within the icy itself, countless tunnels and caverns, a maze carved through the darkness by centuries of intrepid combatants and the monsters that dwelled within.

Within this twisted catacomb, no less than two hundred combatants could participate in a single match.

The victors not only had to survive the competition, they had to survive the Arena itself, and traverse from the very bottom of the pit to the top, where a single gilded platform would rise and take them from their hell.

A small crystal floated nearby. It was enchanted to give a bird's eye view of every party that entered itself into the Arena. Through that crystal, the denizens of Roam could "tune in" via other crystals in their residences and spectate in the bloody sport, switching from team to team with the flick of a thought. She had no idea who was watching her now. Didn't care much, either.

Really, Ginger had to applaud them. These Roamans had not only made gore and slaughter into a sport, they'd made it into a national pastime.

Sickos.

The cage lurched, and with a creak of chains and pulleys, began to descend the descent into certain madness.

Having entered the match late, they would need to catch up, Ginger thought as they traveled further and further in. Balto would have already made some progress through the maze. She wondered if he was already dead yet. That would be a wonderful surprise. About time the universe threw her a break, really.

They passed the top-most bridge. On it was the corpse of a reindeer in plate armor with two arrows through the eyes, and the lower half of the body completely missing, as if it had been torn off with a meat-grinder. No doubt there was a band of gladiators waiting at the very end to prey on those who dared rise.

Ginger put her goggles on and did her best not to join Vixen at the railing.

Down, down, further still down they went, passing more bridges along the way. Some were clear, others held more corpses, all murdered in increasingly depraved ways.

Sometimes there were living combatants on the bridges. Some merely watched the pair descend. Others screamed insults and shot spells or arrows at them. Ginger simply sent a thin lance of fire through ropes to one such bridge, and it gave, sending the occupants screaming into the depths.

By this time, Vixen had regained herself. "That will teach them not to mess with Cinderwings!" she spat at the falling foes.

Ginger ignored her. The three scars running across her jaw had started to ache.

The light was beginning to grow dim, simply from the distance they had traveled from the surface and the amount of bridges above, blocking out the sun. Eventually, the atmosphere settled on something between twilight and midnight, tinged bloody red and icy blue.

Ten minutes into the journey, a crystal pony hurled herself at their cage from a bridge, slamming onto the top of it and sending them tumbling. Pulling out an axe, she began hacking at the chain itself. The crystal floating around her flickered. "Kill'em before they touch ice! This'll get me watchers up the plot! Hahahahahahaaa!"

Vixen sprang to the top of the cage, holding to the bars with strong claws, and reached through the gap, slicing open the pony's neck with a dagger. She collapsed with a gurgle, axe clattering off the side and disappearing down into the dark. Dropping back down, Vixen snickered aloud, "Dumb pony."

Ginger eyed the dying mare. She was dripping blood into their cage, now. "I hate this place."

"I like it here." Vixen licked her dagger. "Mmm. Crystal pony tastes like crystal!"

"Keep that. To yourself." Ginger saw something approaching below. Their cage had begun to slow. Were they close to the end? Was this finally the ground, perhaps? But why was it so...

Oh, Luna above...

Centuries of conflict had left their calling card. The very bottom of the Arena of Roam was a graveyard. Bodies literally covered the pit from edge to edge, some old enough to have become simple skeletons, others quite recently added (Ginger spotted one of the ponies from the bridge she had cut earlier) lying broken and still. Intuition told her the actual ice was still a ways down.

Abruptly, something burst from the corpses, something huge and chitinous. With a screech, it grabbed one of the fresher pickings and burrowed back from whence it came in a shower of limp flesh and splintered bone.

Vixen and Ginger simply stared, open-mouthed.

A wide eyed zebra face nosed itself out of Ginger's bottomless saddlebag. "Holy @#$%!"

"...You disobeyed a direct order! I explicitly told you --- no, Zanza, do not come with us into the pit of death!"

"..."

"And what did you do!?"

"Came with you..."

"What was that?"

"Came with you to the pit of death..."

"EX-ACTLY. Of all the boneheaded, irresponsible, disobedient, nutcase, not cool things to do, this is like at the top of the lists! You crawled into my saddlebag when everyone was... blech, hugging me, and stowed away!"

Ginger stormed back and forth across the ice. The three of them were inside one of the tunnels that led directly off the bonehill at the bottom of the pit. The ice here was dirty and stained, and Ginger's every thunderous stomp melted it with a burst of steam.

To say she was angry would have been an understatement.

She was beyond anger.

In fact, she felt... strangely at peace with it.

This is exactly the sort of thing that I would have done.

"WHY!? FOR CELESTIA'S SAKE, WHY?"

"I have to find them," said Zanza, who could be credited for not stammering under the onslaught of such a righteous tongue-lashing.

"That's what we're here for!" hissed the exasperated unicorn.

Zanza shook her head. "No. I lost them. I need to be there when we do find them. That's the zebra way."

"Your way stupid," Vixen pointed out.

Ginger growled in agreement. "I can respect trying to fix a mistake, but this is no place for fillies!" To emphasize her point, a pony charged from around the corner, a dagger of ice raised high to strike. Groaning, Ginger whipped her sword out and threw it, skewering him through the heart and sending him tumbling to a boneless heap in front of them. "Do you see what I mean!?"

"There were always the threat of raiders in the Zavannah," Zanza argued. "Sometimes villages didn't get along. I've seen dead bodies before, and been chased by raiders before."

"There's more to it that that!" Ginger ripped her blade free, flicking the blood away with a twist of magic. "Now we have an extra body to care for, somepony who isn't used to working in a team, or taking orders, somepony who can't fight! Me, Vixen, alone, stand a good chance of making it out of this! Me, Vixen, and you do not!"

"I can fight..." mumbled Zanza.

"Buffalo shit, you can!"

"I brought my own food, so I wouldn't weigh you guys down," pleaded the filly, opening up the saddlebags she wore under a thick blue traveling cloak. "And I can be really, really quiet! Honest!"

"Zanza," Ginger said, dragging a hoof down her face, "there are things in this place that are not meant for a child to see."

"I'm not a baby anymore," retorted the zebra, "and you're not my mom!"

Ginger flinched at that. "No, I'm not. But I think she'd stand behind me on this."

Zanza merely gave her a look that said, deal with it.

The unicorn gave an exasperated shriek. Already, things had take a turn towards the unexpected. She hated the unexpected. Worse, Zanza was here to stay, like it or not. She doubted she could keep the little zebra confined to the enchanted saddlebag she had snuck in on.

What could she do? What could she possibly do? Backed into a corner. The platform had already risen again. The only way out was up, forward, and through anything that stood in their way. "Were you talking to Echo before we all got separated?" she demanded. "This is the kind of crap he pulls all the friggin' time."

"I've been doing my best to stick by you, Miss Ginger," said Zanza.

Vixen laughed. "It shows!"

Ginger glared at the diamond dog, who promptly covered her mirth with a paw. "You have a devious mind, Zanza."

Beaming, the filly hopped in place. "Thanks!"

"It wasn't a compliment." Spinning on the spot, Ginger stepped over the fallen pony in the middle of the tunnel. The lost blood had already begun to freeze. "You keep up. You do what I say, when I say. If you see something that looks like it wants to kill you, you get behind me. Don't touch anything, don't even breathe on anything. We're gonna go get your parents back, and I hope they scold you to within an inch of your life."

She pretended not to hear the congratulatory sound of hoof slapping paw from behind her.

Achievement Earned- "Fight the Power!"

Level Up!- Ginger Snap, Alpha of the Cinderwings, Flame of Wethoof

-Perk: The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway: (50% ice mitigation) You take half damage from freezing effects and ice-based magic. You are now also more likely to break into spontaneous singing. (current odds are 3/44)

-Perk: Telekinesis Telekeshmesis: (+10% damage with magically held weapons) 'Dat Force Grip, girl! Whether its spinning a ten stone warhammer around like it's made of pixie dust or just plain old chokin' a bitch out with your mind, your magical grip is improving. You've become a real arcane knuckle-cracker.

Level Up!- Zanza the Zebra, Striped Shadow

-Perk: Make Your Momma Proud: (+5 spirit, +2 strength) You're growing up. With that comes the responsibility to face the consequences of your actions. With recent events, you feel more mature than ever. A blossoming flower is about to spread its petals... you'll make her proud, Zanza. I know you will.

-Perk: Zebra See, Zebra Do: (+10 intelligence, faster learning) A keen mind, still developing, is influenced by the actions of those around her. That being said, these idiots are giving you all kinds of ideas. You grasp ideas at an accelerated pace, and have the beginnings of genius in the making.

-New Ability: Cute and Cuddly, Boys: (+25 d'awwww) You have perfected the art of the pouty face. Use it wisely. Critical hits cause instant diabetes.

Regions Discovered!: Roam, The Arena of Roam, The Cinderwings' Loft

[II - Eighth] Be Honest

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ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE EIGHTH

In which we return to some old friends, Ginger becomes the Princess of Asskicking, and Pyrite is Toph...

Echo and Daring Do

"You ever get the feeling like we've been walking down this road for months and months? Like, we'll keep doing this forever, and whenever people think of us, the last thing they recall is, 'Oh, yeah, I remember those guys, they set off down a dusty road way back when. I think they're still on it right now. What a lazy deity they subscribe to!'"

On a small path near the outskirts of Aappleoosa, three beings walked through the dappled sunbeams cast through apple trees. A tall, lanky diamond dog, a petite sandy pegasus, and one golden dragoness.

The pegasus glanced to the diamond dog at her side. "Echo, I'm starting to realize that you're so smart sometimes you think yourself into an idiot."

The diamond dog blinked. "Compliment, or...?"

"Meh. Still mad at you."

Yowch.

Biting back the sting, Echo let himself drop back a few paces, taking in the scenery instead of continuing the conversation. This was the orchard of Aappleoosa, and if he recalled, owned by one Braeburn Apple. He wondered how much time had passed since he'd seen how this place came to be. Months... or years? The trees all looked very young, but many were baring fruit. Succulent red apples dangled in the midsummer heat.

Echo felt himself drooling. He slipped his tongue back inside with a slurp.

Somewhere around here, a pack of diamond dogs had made their den. He'd been keeping his ear to the ground, asking for news about the packs whenever he ran across a stray who'd been travelling. This particular group called itself the Dust Devils. They'd been causing havoc for the farms around here for quite a while now, if the word was to be believed.

He was suddenly aware of someone walking beside him. The dragoness had dropped back to join him as well. Her sightless eyes were fixed dead ahead.

For a while, they walked in silence, content with letting the mare ahead set the pace. Then, Echo brushed up against her side, allowing his disembodied voice to fill her mind. "Pyrite, can I ask you something?"

"You just have," she muttered in reply.

A beat. Then, "Did you just... not hiss?"

Pyrite shrugged. "The sound is grating to equine ears. I will not deny some satisfaction every time I make them wince." She pointed ahead, to the lone pegasus. "Watch. Ssss-sss-ss-sss."

Sure enough, two fuzzy ears abruptly twitched and laid back flat.

"...Oh my god." Echo eventually gaped. He put his tongue to the roof of his mouth and blew. "Sssssss!"

Daring Do shot a peeved glare over her shoulder, ears spasming wildly. "Do you two mind? Some of us are trying to brood here."

"Sssssssssssorry," Pyrite grinned.

Daring snorted and trotted faster, leaving the two alone on the path.

Echo took a moment to gather the correct words. He knew all dragons were prickly creatures, and Pyrite struck him as even more so. It'd be best to play this carefully. He didn't want it to sound like he was questioning her character, but rather her motives. Eventually he gave up, and just threw it out there, "I wanted to know the real reason you decided it was worth your time to come with me." At her sudden bristling, he gave her a nudge. "Let me finish, first. Pyrite... you are dragoness."

"I can see that," Pyrite deadpanned.

Burn. He let that one slide. At least she was showing a sense of humor. "You had everything dragons desire out of life. A hoard, a legacy, an army of servants to clean your scales while you slept... and yet, here you are. You gave this friendship a shot, and joined up with a group of... of ponies and diamond dogs who had made no promises to even try to like you. I mean, we're an inconsiderate lot. We rarely get along with each other most often, to tell the truth. One big happy family."

He paused for a moment.

"And yet. Again, here you are. You literally gave up all your worldly possessions, the entire measure of a dragon's worth. You gave up your standing with your own kind on a desperate half-baked gamble of mine... I offered you friendship, but I bluffed, guessing you'd be interested in the first place."

"You are doing a terrible job of convincing me this was the correct path." Pyrite slowly opened her mouth, and a long, snakelike tongue dipped out, wrapped around a simple grey pebble. She dropped this into an outstretched claw. Even though her eyes were blind, they focused straight at it. "I assume you made your deductions upon this."

"We're both greedy creatures, but we know one fact; the greatest treasures are not the ones taken, but the ones received. Someone, long ago, gave that to you. As a gift. It is your greatest treasure, despite the fact that your hoard was... insane in its vastness, and wealth, and you kept a unusual amount of slaves for a dragon. I know. I've read the entire section of the Rio De Manero library on dragons."

"Books do not show, only fill naive heads with words they pretend at understanding," Pyrite scowled, emptily contemplating the stone in her claw. "So what if my hoard was the envy of this side of the continent, or that my slaves numbered in the hundreds?"

"I think you were compensating for something."

At this, Pyrite recoiled.

"I think... you were trying to fill a hole that someone very close to you left a long time ago."

There was a sound like a whisper.

And then... wham!

In the space of an eyeblink, he found himself moving at an incredible speed. The breath was knocked straight from his lungs as he slammed into a tree. Pinning him by his neck was a golden claw, talons sunk deep into the bark. He wheezed -- she'd trapped him so that only if he stood on his tiptoes could he hope not to strangle himself.

Up ahead, the pegasus whirled around on the spot at the sound. "Hey! What gives!?" Her wings flared out aggressively, each feather jutting out like needles.

Pyrite held up her free claw at her. "Pleassssse, pony. Give me but a moment here. You can have him back when I have finished."

"My name is Daring. And fine, you can play with him." She snorted, turning around and continuing onward. As an afterthought, she threw over her shoulder "Just know; you break it, you buy it." Echo grimaced. Some sixth sense told him he may be quite literally sleeping in a doghouse tonight. His field of vision was suddenly filled with a row of sharp teeth, rivers of golden fire flickering through the gaps.

Pyrite growled, an impossibly small earthquake in his ears. "Chose your next words very, very carefully, son of earth."

The diamond dog swallowed nervously, trying not to cough. "I... I think once upon a time, you had another friend. A very close one. And that pebble is the only thing you have left to remember them by. What I'm really getting at is... who were they, Pyrite? Who could have left such an incredible impression of friendship upon you that... hundreds of years later, you're willing to drop everything and give it another shot."

Silence. For a moment, he wasn't even sure if she was breathing. Then, she asked in a soft voice, "Why?"

"I want to know who you are, and what shaped you into the person you are today," he said. "I want to thank them for giving me the chance to give you a chance. I think it's important to remember our roots... now matter how deep they stretch."

The claw released him. He dropped to the ground, rubbing at his neck.

Surprisingly, though, she helped him up. "They weren't just my friends," she said quietly. "They were family. There were three of us. Myself, Firefly, and her son, Rocket. When I was very, very young... they fished me out of a river. They took me in and cared for me, for I was not well. They... raised me, and confided with me, and shared the wonderful life they had with me. I was not quite a daughter, not quite a sister, but we were family all the same."

"Why were you in a river?" Echo wondered. They had returned to the path. The trees were starting to thin out. Hopefully the end was near.

"I had just been forced from the nest, as all young dragons are. There was a pony outpost near my former home, made of crystal and rock. I felt that I had no need to seek out some dank hole in the ground when a perfectly good dwelling was so close... I attempted to take it, and was sorely defeated." She shook her head. "One whelp against an entire Crystal Empire garrison. I thought I could take on the world. I was wrong. My eyesight was lost to a blast of magefire from one of their unicorns... so I ran. I ran until I fell into a river, after crashing into trees and stumbling through a forest for a full day. I surrendered myself to the current, hoping my worthless corpse might feed some starving predator.

"Instead, before the Last Rest could tighten its grip, Firefly dragged me to the bank. Rocket pumped the water from my lungs while she saw to my wounds." She fumbled with the pebble in her grasp. "This stone shot from my throat when I started breathing again. They kept it... and many years later, as Firefly was laid to rest, Rocket gave this to me, before leaving on a ship to sail across the sea."

Hesitating for a instant, Echo wrapped his arm around her shoulders giving her a squeeze. She flinched at first, but gradually loosened up. "Tell me about them, please."

Pyrite rolled her eyes. A crinkling of a smile formed at the corners of her lips. "Where to begin? Firefly was one of Luna's Folk, a pegasi of the night. She was... very happy, and very vain, but fiercely loving of her family. Her talent was seeing the path ahead... she could fly in pitch darkness, at breakneck speed. She taught me how to see without seeing, as the Nocturni do."

"How do you do that, by the way?" Echo wondered. "Sorry for interrupting, but that's actually been bugging me."

Pyrite shrugged. "I use magical reverberations, issued from around my body at all times. This creates a representation of my immediate surroundings in all directions. It is impossible to sneak up upon me or any nocturni worth their fangs."

"Magical echolocation..." Echo stroked at his chin. It reminded him a great deal of his Starsight technique, but much more effective. "Thank you. Please continue. You were talking about your friend Firefly?"

"Yes," Pyrite agreed. "She eventually passed of old age, surrounded by her family and friends. And... myself." She chuckled. "Now, her son, Rocket; sired by one of Equestria's many guards, took after his father. He was a pegasus of feather and sun. He was very serious, even as a small child, and had a disturbingly fanatical sense of duty to Equestria, but he also had a mean pranking streak that was hard to believe. His talent was, strangely, the fabrication and detonation of celebratory explosives. Fireworks, he called them. He took to the sea in his middle ages, having no wife or child. He was part of an expedition to the unknown continent on the far side of the ocean. Nobody ever saw the ship again. I waited many years, but I came to realize that even if he had survived what fate lay across the sea, he would too have fallen to the passage of time.

"I soon concluded there was nothing holding me, now a fully grown dragon, from returning to the life I would have led. Many decades of conquest and plunder followed, until you found me fat, old, and docile upon a pile of worthless treasure. This is my story. It is not a particularly happy one, like the ones ponies often tell."

"I'm sorry," Echo said, not knowing what to say.

"Don't be," growled the dragoness, but giving him a friendly bump. "Thank you, though, for asking."

"How long ago was this?"

Pyrite opened her mouth as if to say something, then paused. "I do not know. The Crystal Empire had not yet vanished from the earth. I have slumbered long beneath the earth since I gathered my hoard. It has returned now, yes?"

"Explosively so," Echo's eyes darted side to side. "Thanks to a dragon, I hear. Spike of Ponyville. Name ring any bells?"

"No," Pyrite said. "But I would like to meet this Spike myself."

"That makes two of us."

At long last, the winding path ended in a clearing where a large red farmhouse stood. The paint still looked new, and even from so far away, Echo could catch the fresh scent of cut wood in the air. This was the place. This is where they would find the Apples of Aappleoosa. And, with luck, the information he needed to make a move against the Dust Devils.

He was expecting a lot of things. Braeburn and his yelling, mostly. Maybe some awkward introductions; diamond dogs running about in pony society was rarely a smooth affair. But he was certainly not expecting a huge picnic taking place in the dying light of the sunset.

"Dag-nabbit, ya little scamps, ya'll ruined mah best dress!"

"Pass the fruit salad, please."

"Anypony hear about Uncle Core? Old coot done married himself a griffon."

"That's three in a row! Nyah-hah-hah, the horseshoes are going mah way tonight, boys!"

"Mama, I found a worm! Ya wanna touch it?"

Ponies were everywhere. Sitting on blankets, at tables, little foals climbing in the trees, sprawled out in the grass, playing horseshoes, lounging on the farmhouse porch. Standing in the middle of the chaos was the island of calm; Daring Do, speaking to what appeared to be Braeburn and two other ponies, an enormous crimson stallion, and a certain orange mare with apples upon her flanks.

Echo's rear claws suddenly extended, sinking deep into the earth. Standing perfectly still, as if poleaxed, he could not so much as move, even as Pyrite crashed into his backside with a quiet "Oof!" He watched. He saw Daring conversing heatedly with the three. They occasionally threw glances his way. Every time they so much as looked in his direction he felt as though his heart would give out. He was a deer caught in the headlights.

"What?" Pyrite was looking at him. "What is it?"

"That's Applejack."

She followed his wide-eyed stare. "Really? Behind the three-story sculpture or near the pillar of fire?"

"No, she's---" Echo suddenly paused. He glared. "Why do you feel the need to do that?"

Pyrite waved a claw in front of her milky eyes.

"...Point taken."

After a moment of silence, Pyrite pressed, "I can sense three ponies talking to your pegasus wench. Is the male with the hat this Jack of Apples? Is he some important pony diplomat?"

"That's Braeburn. Applejack is the mare. She... she is one of the Elements of Harmony. A very powerful group of ponies. They banished the spirit of Nightmare Moon, imprisoned -- then reformed -- Discord, stood against Sombra, and sent Tirek back to the slimy pit from whence he came." His face contorted into something between awe and panic.

"That is a disturbingly impressive amount of power," Pyrite murmured. "Even I cowered before the might of Discord. Best we not aggravate her."

"She shot them all up with the almighty rainbow friendship cannon," said Echo with trembling tones. "Best pony don't fuck around."

"You seem scared."

Echo nodded. "There's only one other pony that scares me more than an Element of Harmony..."

GINGER SNAP

"Nyyrrrreauuughhh!" Ginger dived to the side at the last second, her sword cleaving through the air behind her. Slash! The charging minotaur was hamstrung, and plowed facefirst into the frozen ground of the cave, axe clattering to the ground beside him. "Hyyyeeaa!" Screeching, she catapulted herself up high with a thrust of the earth, coming down squarely between the shoulderblades of the toppled giant and stabbing deeply into the back of the neck. The foe gurgled once, before laying still.

Armor scored and dented in a dozen places, cut and bruised countless times, mane and tail flickering like fire in the gloom, Ginger Snap appeared as a creature straight from Tartarus. Her eyes glowed a savage green, and her horn sparked dangerously. Wheezing, she surveyed the cave they had camped in for the night, before the ambush had occurred. Now littered with still bodies and trampled supplies, it was a heaving mess of havoc as more gladiators were attracted to the sound of open conflict.

Nearby, she saw little Zanza riding the back of Vixen the diamond dog, lashing out with a flail she'd found somewhere as the diamond dog whirled around like a dervish, spewing carnage and gore with every flick of her knives. "Why! Do! You! Guys! Want! To! Kill! Us! So! Bad!?" The filly shrieked, punctuating each cry with a lash of barbed metal from the flail. Her furry biped steed lunged, grappling with a pegasus that had been too slow to evade, savaging her throat even as Zanza clubbed at anything that came to close. Behind them, a menacing shape loomed.

Ginger's horn ignited once again, a weary spear of light in the darkness. "Hrrraaak!" She wrenched the massive axe once grasped by mighty fingers and telekinetically hurled it like a buzz saw of death. It spiraled through the air at a sickening speed, before staving in the chest of Roaman that was looming over Vixen.

"Thank you, Cindercorn!" crowed the diamond dog as she whirled from ripping open the neck of the pegasus foe to gut the poleaxed pony with her knives. "But kill blow is mine, that makes twenty two!"

A gout of fire struck down a mangy-looking diamond dog that had tried pouncing on her with her back turned. "Twenty five!" came Ginger's reply.

They battled through the cave, out onto one of the many bridges that spanned the width of the sunken Arena. Out in the open, Ginger cut loose with the elements, slicing ropes and leather with blasts of frigid wind, puncturing armor and shields with spears of ice wrenched from the walls of the pit, scorching and incinerating any who stood before her with powerful flames that sprouted from her horn.

It was not often that Ginger Snap could let herself throw around her full power. In terms of magical strength, she punched far above her weight, inheriting a crushingly intense telekinesis from her smithing mother, Ruby Glow, and a deep elemental connection from her father, Frost Snap. Like all unicorns in the Snap lineage, she was attuned to her own chosen element more than all others: Pyromancy! But she had made it a point to master all of them. Now she wielded these as proficiently as her bloodspattered sword, which she proceeded to set on fire because sweet Celestia she looked cool with a flaming sword.

This was a good time to see what she could do if she truly unleashed herself, she thought, elementally seizing the rock of their former cave and ripping it apart, collapsing the cave and burying any who dared to follow. All those years of training to control herself, to reign in her power! And for what? To meekly subscribe to her father's shadow!? She was twice the mage he ever was! She let out everything. All the frustration of watching her father slowly succumb to madness. All the grief of losing Cloud Nine. All the rage at an unfair world for taking away the mother of a little filly. All the fear of letting that happen to Zanza. Every ounce of repressed emotion bubbled forth from deep within the unicorn and made her veins sing with magic, and by the gods did it feel good.

Ginger's coat turned white hot. Her flickering mane and tail became tinged with hot blue at the bases. Snow and ice began to melt in her presence, and the wooden planks of the bridge they stood upon turned black wherever she set hoof. Her eyes streamed eerie green light. A pair of flaming wings erupted from her sides, and with these she punched out, columns of pure inferno destroying anything that dared raise a blade to her wrath.

"I swear, if I get out of this," she cried as they battled through an unending barbarian horde. "I am going to murder him! I am going to murder him so hard! I'm gonna learn necromancy so I can bring him back from the other side, and after his body has been destroyed an uncountable number of times and he knows only the horrible reality of suffering I will raise from Tartarus itself! I'm gonna bind his soul to an outhouse and the rest of his existence will be spent eating the shit of the nation I will found on his stinking! Rotting! Flea-bitten corpse!" None could stand before her for long, succumbing to her dancing arcanite sword and elemental fury.

"Am I gonna get traumatized from this?" Zanza worriedly called from the back of her steed.

"All the trauma!" Vixen cheered, scratching her affectionately with a bloodstained paw.

Ginger snarled over her shoulder, "I warned you, kid! You buckin' asked for this! Be a big girl and crack some skulls, now would ya!?"

Daring Do and Echo

Daring rubbed at the bridge of her muzzle. "Thanks for believing me, Applejack. We've had some pretty rough welcomes before. I'm glad you're willing to at least give us a chance."

Applejack chuckled. "Well, yer darn welcome! Any friend of Rainbow's is a friend of mine! As long as they don't cause no trouble, Ah think we'll get along just fine. Ya'll were just lucky to show up when ya did; the Apple Family Reunion happens only once a year!" She glanced over at the edge of the yard, where a large clearing had formed as Apples began to notice the tall diamond dog and dragon standing in their midst. The dragon was busy poking the diamond dog in the stomach. There were some murmurs, but many had noticed Big Mac and herself talking to the newcomer, and realized the situation was being handled. "Still, though, if it weren't for the rumors we've been gettin' up from down south, Ah might not have even listened to ya. Them Dust Devils have been terrorizin' Braeburn's farm for weeks, now. Far as Ah'm concerned, all diamond dogs are bad news."

Daring waved her hoof dismissively. "Nah, the big guy wouldn't hurt an ant if he could help it. Good with foals, too. Pyrite's a bitch, but Echo won't let her act up too much." She snorted. "Jeez, now if Ginger were here, that'd be a riot."

"She's the one in charge of ya'll, right?" Applejack frowned. "The... uhm..." she struggled.

"Alpha," said Big Mac.

"That's what Ah meant. Ya said she's off in Roam with the rest o' yer kin... so what are ya'll doin' here in Aappleoosa?"

Daring shrugged. "No clue. Echo here figures he can help out with your Dust Devil problem and further our own cause at the same time. He's the brains," she smirked, "I'm just here to look hot and kick flank. Why don't you ask him?"

"Well, al'right," agreed Applejack. She waved over at the diamond dog. "Hey!"

"SHE'S CALLING US OVER WHAT DO WE DO."

Somehow, Pyrite managed to stare at him in utter awe. "I do not know. Respond?"

"PYRITE SHE'S LOOKING INTO MY SOUL."

"Why do you not answer her summons?" Pyrite prodded at his rear paws, which were still locked into the ground

"I CAN'T FEEL MY LEGS."

"No need to worry, it seems the Applejacker has decided to come to us instead."

Sure enough, Applejack was weaving her way through the crowd that had gathered around them. Big Macintosh and Daring Do were trotting close behind. Daring was smirking something heavy. Big Macintosh was Big Macintosh.

Applejack strode right up to him. Somehow, even though she barely came up to his chest, he felt as if he were being scrutinized from a great height, like an insect under a magnifying glass. She tentatively put a hoof out."Howdy there, pardner!"

Shivering, Echo swallowed her hoof in his bandaged paw.

"...kkghruurughhglgh," he said, then toppled over backwards.

Pyrite shook her hoof next. "Hello, Jacker of the Apples. I am Pyrite, Scourge of the Southern Continent and Envy of the Dragonlands. Please do not destroy me with your friendship weapon." She smiled.

"...Charmed," Applejack eventually managed.

Meeting the Apples was one of the strangest experiences of his life.

On one hand, they were some of the most invasively curious ponies he'd ever met. After being fanned awake on the porch by a few of the elder mares, he was swamped by questions and curious foals, who climbed all over him, dangling from his shoulders and perching between his tufted ears. One even opened up his mouth to get an up close look of his teeth! Echo answered questions as fast as he could and all the foals piled atop him spoke as his voice. Which was funny, because each one of them had a different interpretation of what he said. He showed them magic tricks, not real unicorn magic, but the magic of the earth; making flowers bloom with a snap of his paw, identifying gems by taste, using starsight to catch things tossed at him from behind, sending sparkles out of tips of his spinning staff, making his eyes shine like bright pink searchlights, drawing animals in the air with his ghostly claws and sending them prancing around until the fireflies came out. He even managed to breathe pink fire, a trick that he'd been practicing in private for a while.

On the other, the Apples were probably the nicest, most welcoming ponies Echo had ever encountered. Not ten minutes after he'd finished entertaining them, he found himself sitting at a very large table with a very large number of ponies, each of which Braeburn could somehow introduce with a never ending list of apple-related names.

"That there's Apple Cider, Apple Core, Pumkpin Apple, Apple Crisp, that little filly is Hard Cider --- don't know why her folks named her that -- Apple Crisp, Golden Delicious, Fuji, Apple Strudel, Apple Crumble Red Gala... and this huge lug here is my cousin, Big Macintosh!"

Even though Echo was sitting down at the table, he still had to look up to meet the scarlet giant's eye. Big Macintosh. The stallion, the tank, the legend, the fountain of pure masculinity. Echo's jaw hit the table, flinging a spoonful of applesauce at one of the foals, who immediately kicked the foal sitting next to him, and a scuffle erupted farther down the table.

He froze up as Applejack sat next to him.

"Don't mind him, he's just a really big fan of yours," said Daring, "and kind of a goofball."

"Heh-heh! Awww, thank ya kindly." Applejack patted him on the shoulder.

S-s-senpai noticed me! Echo all but screamed inside his head.

"Not too often we get travelin' types like yerselves around here. Luckily, yer just in time for the Apple Family Reunion. It's Braeburn's first year hosting!" Applejack gave her cousin a smile.

"I've made sure to prepare food for any occasion!" Braeburn proudly announced. "The princesses themselves could show up and I'd have somethin' to serve."

Pyrite flashed her teeth. "Got anything from a spit, seared and dripping with juices?"

Applejack leaned across the table and flipped the lid of her hat up. "That a challenge?"

"Yes," Pyrite stated, licking her teeth with her long tongue.

Suddenly, a skewer of fruit was held under her nose. "Apple kebab," said Braeburn with smirk.

"I've never had apples before," said Pyrite, frowning slightly. Gently, she plucked off a slice from the stick and popped it in her mouth. For a moment, silence, as the whole table quieted to witness the first tasting of an Apple Family Apple.

Pyrite chewed, swallowed, and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. Calmly, she folded her claws and said, "I think I can see flavor now."

And the table erupted in cheers.

A little while later, Echo sat on the porch next to Big Macintosh.

Echo blinked.

Big Macinotsh blinked.

Nobody spoke.

Applejack facehooved.

Crickets chirped into the still night air. Above, the stars flickered while the moon hung low on the horizon, a silvery white dewdrop. There was not a cloud in the sky, but a gentle breeze caressed the fur of the diamond dog sitting outside under the starlight. In a nearby tree, golden scales coiled into themselves as a dragoness slumbered lightly.

Calmly, Echo lay upon his back, arms folded behind his head. A crystal cigar hung from his lip, faintly streaming smoke.

Echo watched the universe pass above with unblinking eyes.

He tried to ignore the presence that had crept up behind him for some time, but it was growing harder and harder. He wasn't sure what he would say to her. Or if he should say anything, really. He did not have to wait much longer, though, because a familiar rasp whispered in his ear.

"Hi." Daring Do sat down next to where he lay. She glanced at him, he glanced at her, and they both looked away. "Look, um," Daring tried, "I've been thinking."

Bad thinking? his thoughts gently caressed her mind. She shivered, more from link than anything. It'd been a few days since they'd used it.

"...Sort of," Daring lamely said. "About us."

Echo threw his hood up and rolled away from her, curling up into a ball.

"No, come on, dude. Don't be like that, I'm trying to have a heart to heart here." Daring grumbled, prodding at a furry shoulder with her hoof. "Look, I'm sorry I've been kind of a... a not a very nice pony today. I've been trying to sort out a lot. And... it's not entirely bad, okay?"

He uncoiled himself. It took a while. There was a lot of him. Eventually, he sat cross-legged by her side, the pair of them unable to meet the other's gaze so they stared together at the moon.

"I want... this... us... to work," said Daring. "I really do. You are a part of me, as much as I am a part of you now, and for better or worse, we're kinda stuck like that." She shuffled uncomfortably. "We make a good team, don't we?"

Echo slowly nodded.

Daring soldiered on. "But... we aren't perfect. No couple is. I mean, we're really, really, weird. A telepathic Outlander in skin of a diamond dog, and a kleptomaniacal archaeologist-slash-writer past her prime. That stuff could make a pretty good story. But we have our problems. And lately, we've been having more problems than solutions."

Echo halfheartedly whispered, I know.

Daring let the silence stew between them for a bit, trying to get a read on him. Their link let her get dim impressions of his thoughts and feelings if she tried. The sliver of a connection in her mind only conveyed the sense of loss and sorrow. She sighed. This must have really been tearing the big guy up on the inside, but he was always too much of a stoic introvert than for his own good.

"Echo... what you did was wrong."

He started, some rationalization forming in his head---

"No, stop," Daring pleaded, meeting his gaze for the first time that night. "Just listen. You've hurt me, Echo. Pretty bad, too. I knew from the start there was something strange about you. And whenever I tried asking about it, you just... evaded my questions, or gave me little white lies. And... that wasn't really what you did wrong. I get the need for privacy, I do! Sometimes ponies have things they just don't want to talk about." She sighed. "Its the fact that you didn't trust me enough to know. We're literally bound at the soul, and still, you wouldn't even tell me where you were from. We've shared some strange, indescribable things together, but never that. For whatever reason, you didn't think I was capable of handling the truth. I felt it. Whenever I even came close to the subject --- panic --- and then you crushed it with other thoughts.

"And it was only when you had no other choice, did you finally tell me. When I knew for certain you weren't what you appeared to be. Because whatever you were, was starting to come into me."

Staring deep into his eyes, she remembered the cave. She remembered Pyrite, head bowed and asking for mercy, in her own way.

She remembered the wrath. The anger. The righteous bloodthirst that instilled every fiber of her being to crush the threat, drive it away, burn it and kick it and stomp it down until it was nothing more than a smudge on the floor.

She remembered striking him to the floor in a rage that had spiraled into something rather un-equine.

She remembered the look of fear, of recognition of her actions. Of the fact that it had become too late.

"It was a two-way street. I... was scared of what you were hiding. I realized that if it was so huge that you couldn't even share it with me, than... nopony could know. I... started to make excuses for things, whenever you wouldn't let me in. I thought that if I never found out, it'd never be a problem, and I tried to ignore it as best as I could, but..." Daring dragged a hoof through the grass. "You aren't the only one who keeps things inside, you know," she said bitterly. "See how it turns out? You couldn't trust me, I couldn't trust myself. How bucked up are we?"

A faint sniffle from inside his hood. Daring started, now looking at him in shock. "Echo, are you crying?"

Echo reached up into his hood and wiped at his face, rapidly shaking his head from side to side. He froze when a dusky wing wrapped around his side and pulled him close. Daring held him as he forced the small little shakes his body made to go away.

"Echo, look at me," she said, nudging his face up with a hoof.

The diamond dog slowly raised eyes to meet hers.

Daring frowned. "Look at me."

He hesitated. But the look on her face was too much to bear. A massive paw gently pressed a finger to the side of her head.

There was a flash inside both of their minds, and suddenly they weren't in a starlit apple grove anymore.

There was some kind of fleshy, twisted thing sitting where Echo had been, wrapped in his green robe. Daring did not flinch away. It looked like some kind of mix between pony, and diamond dog, and other. It's shape constantly shifted, as if it couldn't make up its mind as to what it wanted to settle on. She pulled back the hood. "Who are you, Echo?"

The face that gazed back at her was of the palamino earth pony. It looked so much like him, handsome and lean, with those soulful grey eyes and the wide scar across his neck. A split second later, a pale, hairless visage peered in its place. The eyes, the scar, it was still him.

"I don't know anymore," he said. "I just want to be yours."

She pressed their foreheads together. "Then you need to trust me. We are a team. You are my best friend, Echo. I will set you back on the right track, if you catch me when I fall." He spasmed, becoming brown and furry, fangs glinting. She did not pull away.

"I'm scared," he said. "Of losing what makes me what I am. I'm scared that, what I once was is slowly leaving me, and I don't know what is filling up the spaces. Every day, I lose a little more. Names, places, little memories of my life. And when that's all gone... who will be left? Will it still be me?"

"I can help you remember," she whispered. "Start small."

"With what?"

"What... what is your real name?"

He murmured into her ear.

Daring smiled. "It suits you." She closed her eyes, and planted a light kiss upon his forehead. When she opened them again, they were back in the apple grove, stars pulsing high above. The cooling night air swirled around them once more, and sound of crickets chirping pleasantly filled her ears.

The diamond dog remained with his head bowed low to the ground as she pulled away.

"When you've sorted yourself out... come to me," Daring said. "And we can try again." Turning around was one of the hardest things she'd done in her life, but she left him there in the grass, marching resolutely towards the farmhouse, where Applejack had put her up for the night.

Daring...

She paused.

For what it's worth. I am sorry.

"I know," she said. "I love you, Echo." And with that, she vanished into the house.

Echo sat alone on the small hill in the apple orchard. Above him, the stars swirled, and a sudden breeze shifted the tree branches around. He wrapped his robe about himself, shivering slightly, before picking his staff up from the ground where he had lain it. He traced a finger across the mystical zebra runes.

Cross legged, he set the staff across his lap.

He closed his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out.

A grating, harsh voice dragged itself out his throat.

"I... l-love... you... t-too."

Dawn.

In the farmhouse kitchen, Applejack blinked the sleep from her eyes as a few aunts and uncles sat around the table with her. Big Macintosh was working at the stove, the first of many flapjacks sizzling on a griddle. There were many mouths to feed.

Braeburn cantered in. Cheerfully. Too cheerfully, Applejack thought, for this time of day.

"G'morning, all!" Braeburn said. "Anypony seen our guests?"

"Haven't bothered to look," Applejack muttered. "They don't seem like the kind of folk who get up this early."

Braeburn shrugged. "Well, they're gone. The pegasi's room is tidied up, and Apple Core found a sackful of sapphires on the front porch this morning." He reached into his vest and removed a solid blue gem the size of his hoof. "I think our money troubles are gonna be a thing of the past!"

"That's a half an orchard in yer hoof, Brae," Applejack gasped, rubbing her face. "Ya mean ta tell me they just left those fer us? Fer one night's fee?"

Braeburn nodded enthusiastically. "You got it, cuz!"

Applejack sat back in her chair. "Whoa." She turned her head. "Mac, did'ja see them off?"

"Eeyup," said Big Macintosh.

"And did'ja give em the supplies they're gonna be needin'? Point them in the right direction?"

"Eeyup."

"Huh," said Applejack. And again. "Huh. Rarity ain't gonna believe this one."

In the light of the rising sun, three figures strode down the dusty path.

In the lead, a dusky pegasus, whip coiled tightly around one wing, saddlebags swaying on her hips. Forever following, a tall, lanky diamond dog, green hood raised to cast his face in shadow as he plodded along with staff in paw. In the rear, a visibly-relaxed golden dragoness, her long, swan-like neck craned to peer at the passing countryside.

Daring Do checked the map the big red stallion had given her. "We're about a mile away from the den now. Should expect to run into a party of Dust Devils any time now."

"Isss there a coursssse of action to follow?" Pyrite asked.

Daring gave her a wink.

"Diplomacy."

Achievement Earned- "Applejack: Element of Honesty! It's About Dayum Time!"

Level Up!- Echo Ghostclaws, Beta of the Cinderwings + Dr. Daring Do, PhD.

-Perk: Honor Bound (II): (+10 gentleman, +10 stubborn) Your code of chivalry keeps you on the moral high ground. Whether it's murder or mayhem or falling debris, you're more than likely to make a totally gallant fool of yourself.

-Perk: The Hard Road: (+25 spirit, +10 stamina) Relationships are never easy. But they can be worth fighting for. Don't give up on yourself, Fluffy. Her belief in you makes you stronger than ever.

-Skill Upgraded: Starsight(II): Lady Pyrite's discussions of nocturni (batpony) echolocation techniques had inspired you remaster your technique. Starsight is now twice as effective, has twice the range, and adds the effect of slowing down time for the user to 75% normal speed.

-Perk: Featherbrain: (+30 charisma to party members) Daring, you aren't so good with words, but you've learned the art of getting your point across anyway. You receive a chance to unlock special character interactions when you talk to them!

-Perk: Embracing Your Inner Soulbound Interdimensional Hybrid, a Novel by Twilight Sparkle: (+10 all stats when you lose control!) There's something stirring inside of you, and it doesn't like not being able to breathe. Watch yourself, Daring. It doesn't think like a pony. This one could get you into trouble.

Level Up! - Lady Pyrite, (she of too many titles)

-Perk: Nocturni Echolocation: (immunity to abmush/stealth attacks, +15 speed bonus in dark places) Batman ain't got nothin' on the Lady P. She's been rockin' the Toph-vision for the past eleven centuries. Witty blind-people jokes are to be expected.

-Perk: Dragon(II): (+50 awesome) Still a fucking dragon, still fucking awesome. Like, literally, folks, this is a thing.
Ally Gained!- The Apple Family

-Perk: Buck You, We Can Eat All These Apples! (Unlocked Apple Family Safehouses! Apple-based product discount activated!) Your act of kindess as secured you a place of honor beside any Apple Family hearth. If you're ever on the run, they'll take you in for a few days. They'll also let the bits go a few extra miles when it comes time to purchase some Apple-grade pastry weaponry.

[II - Ninth] There's Gold In Them Hells

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ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE NINTH

In which he gets his fucking name about damn time I mean really...

The Lost One

I know this place.

Tall spire of rock trailed up into the darkness. It was not the cavern he had awoken in. Much smaller. He could see the walls, illuminated in green glowing moss. Several tunnels led away from the chamber in all directions, but only darkness lay further in them.

He was standing in the center of all this. In front of him, a large spear of rock had fallen from the ceiling. Lying still in the epicenter of the ruined spire was a mare, blood red and firey of mane. Her eyes were fixed upon him in an indescribable expression of surprise and pain. A splinter of the rock still stuck out from the side of her crushed chest. There was no blood around her, only thick growth of the glowing moss.

He knew her. And yet, he did not know her.

"Ruby?" He whispered. It felt wrong to break the silence of this place. "Ruby Glow?"

Of course she didn't respond. He swallowed thickly. For some reason, he crept forward and knelt before her, nuzzling against her cold neck and closing her eyes with a hoof. There was a clawing, sinking sensation in his chest.

The sound of soft padding upon stone made the cavern tremble. Shadows began to file out from the many tunnels along the walls. They were huge, some hulking, some lean, but all possessing the same canine grace. Pinpricks of light were there eyes, and darkness was their fur. The unicorn's hackles rose. His horn sparked once, pathetically. He crouched over Ruby, glaring around at the shadows. "Stay back," he rasped. "Stay away!"

Their ranks parted, and one of their own slid forth to stand only yards away in the center of the cavern. It too was made of shadow, but the paws faded into the darkest of greens imaginable. It leveled one of these, the accusing finger pointed forth. It was not directed at the stallion, though. The fallen mare lay in its sights.

"We did this," the shadow said in a rumbling voice. It glided forward.

"I said stay away from us!" he cried. His horn sparked again. This time, the magic caught, and a pale beam of light erupted from his forehead. "Nruaaaghh!"

The shadow warped and twisted around the spell, flowing like liquid. "We. Did. This."

Realizing he could do nothing to stop it, the unicorn searched the chamber, frantically looking for something, anything that could give him leverage. There was nothing aside from the stone and the body of the mare.

His gaze settled on curls of brilliant orange mane.

The shadow was mere paces away. Green-tinged darkness loomed over them. It's eyes narrowed, a long, lanky arm reaching for him.

He backpedaled, before whirling on the spot and breaking into a run. Mid stride, he dipped his head and slid the mare's body up and across his shoulders. She was cold, and yet the weight felt like it had been missing. "Ruaaagh!" A flickering cone of light erupted around him this time, and he charged the ranks of shadowy canines. They parted around him, as he thought, but they could not touch him inside the feeble shield. He dove into the first tunnel he saw and charged onwards blindly.

"Face yourself, Frostycorn!" the shadow boomed in the receding distance. "Or you will never rise!"

The cave blurred around him from speed. He all but flew across the stone, nothing but the small light at the tip of his horn spearing through the darkness. A fork appeared before him -- he went left -- and another -- this time right -- and another, and so on until he realized he'd been no idea where he was going.

Something tapped him on the shoulder. The dead mare looked limply back at his shocked face. "You did this," she said.

He screamed, closing his eyes in fear, and when he opened them, he was outside.

A cool wind flowed through his mane. Grass tickled his fur. Warmth across his entire core. The sun! The scar down his chest had vanished. Ruby Glow sat next to him, smiling as she rubbed the head of a tiny unicorn filly.

"Didja see!?" chriped the little filly. "I did it! I really did it!"

"That was amazing, Ginger." Ruby Glow nuzzled her fondly. "We couldn't be more proud of you."

The little filly turned to him. "I'm finally just like you, daddy!" She was beaming, she was so happy, and he saw himself ripping in half on the reflection of her eyes. "I'm a real 'mancer now. Does this mean I get to go to Canterlot? Huh!?"

"In a year or two," he found himself saying. He hadn't meant to. It came out in a strangled whisper, but neither of them seemed to notice.

"Awwww... well, can you at least teach me until then?"

"Your father and I will help you prepare as much as we can," Ruby said. "There's more to magic than just throwing around fireballs. Telekinesis is an important skill, too!" She pointed to the horn atop her own head. "This little moneymaker makes the best forging in Equestria!"

"Whoaaaa."

"Yup!" she nodded. "But just remember, there's only so much we can teach you. Magic is what makes a unicorn unique, and every unicorn has their own particular brand. It's an extension of their very essence! We can only teach you the basics, but one day, you're going to have to look within yourself to make the true magic shine."

The light atop his forehead pulsed weakly. He flinched, blinked.

His eyes opened again, and a very different scene unfolded before him.

He stood upon the deck of a sleek airship, the chaos of a battle all around him. Dark, bug shapes swarmed through the starlit air, clashing with armored pegasi and two alicorns who wielded the aurora itself. More armored ponies clashed with huge cats across the deck, but several figures emerged from the carnage to face him.

A tall, hooded diamond dog, gripping a magnificent spear in paws that shone with pink fire. At his shoulders, the shadow from the caves.

The blue monster. Ahuitzotl. He grinned with evil intent, licking one of the razor talons on his fingers.

...His daughter. Ginger. Armored in dull gray, metal smoky and charred but still strong. Her horn blazed with a strength his had never known, and all the elements answered her call. Her eyes were glowing a piercing white, the mark of deep magic.

"You did this," she hissed at him.

"Oh, yes you did!" Ahuitzotl rumbled in agreement.

The hooded diamond dog merely leveled his spear, while the shadow at his shoulders cried, "Do not flee from yourself! Face and grow strong!"

All their bodies flickered, morphed, and before his very eyes, swirled together to form a single entity.

Frost Snap hatefully glared at at the unicorn, eyes glowing sickly blue. Dragonbreath hissed from between gritted teeth. A pristine, unblemished white coat glimmered in the night. Small icicles dangled from the tips of his mane. His horn pulsed, and a jagged, three-foot blade of ice grew to encase it. He leveled this, pawing at the deck.

"You did this!" he roared, and charged.

The unicorn couldn't move. Only watch, in utter horror, as the icy horn stabbed into his throat...

RRRRRRRRRIP!

...and tore him open from chest to tail.

"Aaauugh!" His eyes flew open, and met those of a deepest emerald. The mare called Ruby Glow still lay entwined against him, ethereal form flickering ever so slightly.

As their eyes met, she leaned forward and nuzzled him. "Bad dream?"

"The worst..."

They lay together like that for a while, drawing comfort from touch.

Eventually, there came a knocking at the door.

"You have a visitor at the door. I cannot stay." Ruby gently slid away.

He reached out a hoof, catching her by the tail. "Don't go," he pleaded hoarsely.

Ruby's tail flicked out of his grasp. "Warden must not know I am here of my own accord. But, for the record, I've never left," she said, winking over her shoulder.

He tumbled out of bed after her, but the mare vanished before his eyes, fading into oblivion with the sound of faint laughter. The noise seemed to echo through his ears like thunderclaps, though he felt as though they were the sweetest things to ever grace his senses.

The door opened to reveal the alicorn master of the castle, Warden, who saw him sitting upon the stone floor with a hoof still plaintively outstretched. She said nothing, only noting that he had indeed awoken and gesturing with a shriveled wing to her side. The message was clear; he was to follow.

Swallowing, he rose and trotted after her as the cloaked pony began to stalk away. He caught up with her after only a few seconds, casting an eye all around. Greyguard, she had called the castle the previous night, was constructed from solid stone. The floors were smooth, polished granite, white carpet strewn down the center of each passage. Rough-hewn rock made up the walls, laced with veins of glowing crystal that traced strange, otherwordly patterns in every color of the rainbow. Here and there, a tapestry hung, each one a different style. He had no names for the things he saw in them, always pictures of ponies in the middle of the act of some great deed.

They passed through an ornate, gem-studded portcullis, and emerged upon the ramparts of the castle walls. To one side, the empty cavern that the castle inhabited loomed, nothing more than naked stone and swirling shadows. To his other, Greyguard itself, a pale ivory keep that rose upwards from the ground as if it had grown that way. The walls were sleek and reflective. There were no cracks in any surface. From the top of the tallest tower, a mighty stream of light streaked upwards, vanishing at a point far above where the cavern's natural roof should have been.

There were no other inhabitants save Warden and himself, and possibly that blue monster, but he did not wish to go looking for that one. As they entered again into the castle's bowels, they passed a kitchen and a dining area, both appearing as though they had been in use only seconds before; a delicious feast in various stages of setting and preparing had been arranged, though nopony had come to eat or cook it! An infirmary, a nursery, a library, a grand hall all passed them by. Each furnished lavishly and seeming as though occupied, but the deathly quiet couldn't fool him.

It was only until they had entered the keep itself did Warden finally speak, and even then she did not look at him, only continue to stride forward on her thin, pale limbs. "Have you given your situation any thought, little light?"

Little light? He wondered, but made no mention of it. "Yes. I have only grown more confused," he said. And this was true. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of red. He dare not look at it.

Warden sighed. "The matters of the soul are never an easy thing to understand. Even I do not claim to comprehend their ways, only to guide them to the next stage."

"Is that why I am here, then? To be guided?" He asked.

"If so, not by me." Warden trailed to a halt. Before them stood a large, impressive door, made of blackwood and laced with silver runes. "No," she said. "No, you are no longer a part of my flock. Another has taken you under her wing, you should be grateful. Were your soul returned to the Great Cycle by myself, you would be lost and consumed. It would be as a whisper among a great concert, swallowed up, never to be heard again. I will not do such a thing. My purpose is not to bring ends."

The shattered spire atop her brow sparked to life, a weak white aura that sparked wildly from the jagged tip. The huge door shuddered, before opening with a noise of rumbling stone. A gust of air whipped the stallion's mane before him. He got the impression that his door had not been opened in a long time.

"But... she may have something in mind..."

They stepped in together. Here, the mighty pillar of light he had seen outside traveled down through the tallest tower, coming to a rest upon Greyguard's very foundations. The air around them was violently swirling with motes of light and dust, though he felt it as nothing more than a pleasant breeze. "It's beautiful," he murmured, watching the spiraling column.

"This is the root of the Fount," said Warden. "Here, all that ever was and will be enters and re-enters the living world. The Fount is the very nexus of all magical leylines, and all souls that are reborn into the Great Cycle eventually pass through this point. I would not stand so close," she commented as he began to edge forward, eyes shining in wonder.

He scampered back a couple steps. "Why have you brought me here?"

Warden's pale eyes flickered to him, the Fount, then to him again. "It was requested that the little light who fell so far into my kingdom be brought for judgement."

"Judgement?" his nose scrunched. "You told me that the pony I once was, this... Frost, had committed great crimes, and had met his end. You said I was one sliver of soul he would not give up to darkness. Am I to be judged for the wrongs of my creator?"

"Not judged for crimes. Judged for potential," Warden replied, then pointed with a hoof to the Fount. "Look!"

Something emerged from the Fount itself. He felt himself tremble as a colossal presence entered the room.

A long, black horn speared out of the light like the bowsprit of a great ship. A beautiful equine face followed, fur blacker than the void of space. Her eyes contained no pupils, and only shone with pure whiteness, like the glare of snow on a sunny day, the mark of the deepest of magic. Her mane and tail softly whipped about in a cosmic breeze, and looking at them, he saw hundreds of thousands of galaxies and stars, all bound together in an unfathomable tapestry. This new alicorn was enormous, nearly three times the height of Warden. Huge wings rested half-unfurled at her sides, shooting stars and great nebulae issuing from the tips of her feathers. The mark across her hips was that of a small spark midst the darkness of her fur, and he immediately knew it to be the single burst of existence at the beginning of everything.

The titan mare projected such a sense of serenity that he found tears flowing freely from his face, though he did not weep. This is what it must feel like to have a mother, he thought, and then realized he had not known what a mother even was until he gazed upon this mare. He felt it prudent to bow, and did so, nose pressing flat to the cold stone.

"Galaxia," greeted the other alicorn in the room, if a bit coldy. "I have brought it to you as per your request. If you have further need of me, I will not be far." Warden primly turned and stepped from the chamber, dark cloak flapping in the caressing winds. The stallion watched her go out of the corner of his eye, too frightened to rise.

They were alone in the chamber. He swallowed thickly. What if this mare measured him and found him lacking? The sheer weight of her presence alone told him that he existed only because she willed it. He trembled visibly now, afraid that he would never see Ruby Glow again. He was not sure he knew the red mare -- though maddeningly familiar, the details of his dream were now faint and fuzzy -- but he was forever grateful for her for spending the night with him, and watching over him in this place.

"No."

He would not face oblivion like a coward, if that was indeed what this Galaxia brought with her. He thought of Ruby Glow, of that smirk upon her beautiful face, and of the warmth in his chest whenever she was near. The mighty alicorn did not seem so terrifying anymore. The stallion raised himself from the floor. He faced the alicorn. Stared into the blinding whites of her eyes.

Galaxia blinked.

He could feel something encircling him, coming inside him, a sort of silvery warmth that slipped into the edges of his thoughts. He realized that the alicorn was entering his mind an instant before her gigantic, tranquil presence filled him utterly. He was nothing to this titan. And yet, she only observed, briefly flickering outwards into his consciousness, brushing any halfhearted resistance he mounted with a caress and squeeze.

There wasn't much to go through. The brief moments of his existence played back again. The arrival in the cave of great stone pillars. Ahuitzotl and his arrival. The long journey through Tartarus. The mighty chasm of the Pit. A scarlet hoof catching him as he fell. She saw them. She saw Ruby and him, together. Following the river. The subterranean jungle. Surging pride and rage, Ahuitzotl's agonizing strikes. Warden's restoration of his shattered body. Arriving at the castle in near comatose state. The room. Ruby again, climbing into bed with him, holding him close and simply being there...

And then...

Just as quickly as she entered him, she was gone, and he was alone inside himself again. He breathed a sigh of relief, eyes crossing from the effort of sorting his own thoughts out again.

One corner of Galaxia's lips turned up by the faintest degree.

The stallion felt a sense of reassurance wash over him, as if her were being nestled into the softest of warm blankets as somepony crooned a lullaby above him. He wheezed and laughed, tears still freely flowing. Whatever he had done, he felt as though he had passed the great alicorn's judgement. The effort of standing was now impossible. He felt as though he had run a thousand miles with stones upon his back. He toppled to the ground, still smiling contentedly.

A hoof prodded his shoulder. He rolled, to find Ruby Glow standing above him, Galaxia poised at her shoulder. The red mare had never seemed more tangible. "Told you," Ruby said.

He had never felt more at peace. "You were in my dream... but I can't remember. Who are you? Were you my wife? Who are you really?" he breathed.

"Somepony who loves you," she replied, leaning down to nuzzle him. "And that is all that matters. Thank you for this," she added to Galaxia. "We won't disappoint you!"

Galaxia, for her part, only dipped her head in acknowledgement. Her long, ebony horn flashed once, some indication of a signal, and then she retreated from the pair. They watched as she walked back towards the pulsing column of light, before she paused.

Galaxia looked back at them.

And winked.

With that, she vanished into the light.

There was a moment of silence. Then, Ruby gently asked. "Who are you, though?"

"Not him," he answered quietly. "Or at least, not what he became. I am not Frost." Ruby only smiled at him. It held the kind of warmth he never thought he'd find down here. He reached out and grasped her hoof in his. "But... I can be somepony else. I think I know why I am here!"

The huge doors rumbled open, stealing his next words and he turned to see the gaunt figure of Warden stalking through them. He glanced to his side, finding that Ruby had vanished. Warden stopped a few paces away, staring at him with an expressionless gaze. "I see you are still here. This bodes well for you, spirit. You may yet make it out of this place."

Spirit.

There. That was it!

"Yes," he said. As long as he had Ruby beside him, he was willing to do whatever it took. He knew that she would watch over him, catch him if he started to fall. "I understand, now."

"Do you?"

"A second chance," he affirmed. "To be a better pony. To right the wrongs committed in a past life. I... he did terrible things. But I can rise above the same weakness that drove him down." Warden merely stared. He gulped. "And... and I know that I will never truly redeem myself for what's been done. I will never have a true soul, a truly pony soul ever again. I am no longer a pony. I'm a spirit. I am Spirit."

A new name. A new beginning.

Warden's eyebrow lifted. She said nothing.

Spirit met her gaze evenly, silent as well. Even as she watched, the deep blue of his mane, tail and eyes began to fade, replaced by whiteness. The marks across his flanks, a dark storm cloud spewing flurries, dissolved across his fur and ran down his legs like water, pooling on the floor. His entire body took on a faint distortion, a slight blurring of the edges.

"You are not incorrect in your assumption," Warden said. "You will become the force of good to balance out all the evil caused by your past self. I will send you back into the world to begin your redemption. But first, I must break you down and forge you anew. It will not be easy, and you will not emerge the same. The stains of Frost Snap still coat your essence, and it will take effort to cleanse yourself. But... it can be done. We start on the morrow."

Spirit grinned. For the first time, he knew what hope felt like.

...And in the darkness, a little light sparked into being.

Achievement Earned: "The Only Mushrooms I Do Give Me Extra Lives"
Character revealed! Level up! - Spirit, the White Knight of Winter

-Perk Unlocked: He's Totally the Paladin: (+15 ever-y-thang against all forces of evil) Bubble hearth! Yeah! Bubble hearth! Epic class mount! Yeah! Bubble hearth!

-Spell Unlocked: OP Paladin Smash lulz(I): (200% damage against undead, demon) You surround yourself with a thin veil of light and ram your target with all your might, scorching them and knocking them down. Upgrade further to inflict gratuitous amounts of property damage!

-Spell Upgraded: Lover's Light: (+10 perception, +15 magic) There's something lurking in the darkness. But you aren't afraid. Keep her close to your heart and your light will never waver. This passive aura has grown stronger, and receives a chance to cause Spirit to use deep magic when his health drops below 10%, with no mana cost.

[II - Ten] Chicken Nuggets

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ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE TENTH

In which the Patchwork Prince enters the game, and old friend returns, and everything goes to shit...

The Ambassador

Far higher than clouds, a solitary skyship made for the horizon.

Fresh, black paint covered her scarred and pitted hull, some places still dripping from a hasty stay in the yard. Elegant, swooping runes of silver swept around her from stem to stern, pulsing with new magic. The bowsprit, an imposing bust of Nightmare Moon, the carving’s wings spread as though in streaking flight as its horn cut towards the rising sun. Deep blue sails danced and fluttered in the trade winds, and a fresh coat of varnish covered the woodworkings.

At the helm, Captain Tythus manned the various levers that controlled the ship, stoically adjusting the wheel by fractions of an inch as his craft sailed on.

Down in the Captain’s Quarters, a strange scene was unfolding.

Lyra Heartstrings lay prone upon the captain’s bed, twitching slightly as her eyes roved beneath her lids. She was clearly dreaming, something her present company found of interest.

“Wow, she’s been out for a while.”

“What should we do?”

“Poke her with a stick!”

A smacking noise.

“Poke her gently with a stick!”

“Thine brand of comedy needs refinement, methinks.”

“A-yep.”

She was sitting on a terrace. A comfortable cushion supported her haunches as she took in the view. A great sunlit valley spread out before her, filled with fields and trees and flowers. In the distance, a great white city speared through the clouds, all ivory towers and soaring viaducts. Strange creatures with four wings soared idly on a warm breeze, small dots up in the sky.

"Never gets old, you know." Something moved to her side, settling down on another cushion that wasn't there before. She whirled, startled, and beheld a chocolate brown pegasus. His front left hoof was missing, replaced with a clunky-looking prostethic. He seemed quite young, but as he shifted around, he moved with the jerky stiffness of an elder. "Hello, Ambassador."

Lyra blinked. "Um..."

"Something to drink?" A metal cup floated into view, from where she had no idea. She took it out of reflex, glancing at the deep purple liquid within. "That's a good vintage. Picked it up out in Cassini. Traded it for a crate of food and fresh water with a castaway adrift. He was merchant for a vineyard from the nearby settlement and had suffered a drive failure. Didn't want our help -- stubborn Cassies take it as a slight, you see -- but he was allergic to his own brew! Not much of a choice, really, but it took almost a day of talk to get him to even consider a trade of supplies."

The pegasus shrugged his shoulders, prosthetic issuing a soft hiss of steam. "Anyway, I'm Omnius." He smiled at her. "This is the first time I've had a female Ambassador before. You're very pretty."

Lyra glanced at the drink, then him, then back to the drink, fighting down a blush. She started. When did the cup become empty? "Er, yes, I'm Heartstrings. Lyra. Lyra Heartstrings," she mumbled. She shook herself. "Sorry, I'm still really new at this. The last two dreams I had were different. I wasn't expecting, well," she waved a hoof at the stunning view. "All this. And... aren't you supposed to be... I don't know... not a pony?"

Omnius chuckled. "I can be anything I want. My race are travelers, and we adapt to whatever land we travel. The vista is just an old memory of mine. More?" He gestured at her cup with a wing, and she nodded. Before her very eyes, it filled again. She sipped, this time savoring the strange, citrus flavor instead of gulping it down.

"So," she began after wiping her mouth, "what now?"

"I've been asleep for a very long time," said Omnius. "You tell me. As the Ambassador, it's your job."

Lyra sat there for a while, thinking.

"Well, we're currently on a ship that's sailing for the Fount. Your, uhm, brother and sister are here, already awoken. It's been a thousand or so years since you were put into stasis. Princess Luna is no longer Nightmare Moon... she's actually releasing you from her service. She feels pretty bad about that, by the way."

Omnius slumped a bit. "I can imagine. We did some terrible things back then, during the war. At least she's herself again."

"Yeah..." Lyra fidgeted. This wasn't really going very well. "I, uh..."

"May I spend a while with her? And the others?" Omnius started suddenly. "It's been so long, and from what you've told me there's not much time left." The expression on his face was one that shifted between sadness and hope, the strangest of combinations.

Lyra mentally sighed in relief. "Of course." Then she paused. "I don't know how to get her in here."

Laughter. He laughed with his gut, loud and booming but warm. "Don't worry, leave that to me. Just tell her to join in when you wake up. We'll have one last adventure. It'll be the grandest thing..."

Lyra's eyes crawled open.

"Gah!" Ferrous Oxhide flew back, from where he been staring intently at her face. "Woo! And she's up!"

"Ugh..." Lyra shook the sleep from her mind, tossing her bangs back from over her eyes. She glanced around. She was still in the cabin, resting on the single solitary cot. One the other side of the room, behind a desk, a still-unconscious Omnius was snoring in a thick leather chair. Knight Commander Starbuck and Princess Luna looked up from where they were going over a map at a small table in the corner of the room. The Elder Sage, Ragdoll, was busy helping a giggling orange unicorn off the floor.

Disarray was picking his lobster claw against the far wall. He grinned lopsidedly at her as she struggled to her senses. "Ain't no rest for the wicked, huh?"

"Ambassador!" Luna called warmly to her. "I trust all went well?"

Lyra struggled off the cot. "He wants you to join him." She pointed to the two other Outlanders with a wobbly hoof. "And you guys, too."

"I know what he's up to," said Oxhide, grinning broadly. "This is gonna be insane."

"Tch." The fluffy mare next to him smirked as well. "Always theatrics."

Princess Luna crossed the room in a single bound, sweeping them up into a bone-crushing hug. "Of course! The Dreaming moves at a snails pace. We shall have plenty of time for the catching up and saying what needst be said!"

"Can't breathe," wheezed the stallion in her grasp, "don't stop, this is hot." He yelped as Ragdoll bopped him in the snout with a hoof.

If Luna heard that, she gave no mention. Instead, she reared up tall, still clutching the squirming Outlanders to her breast. Her horn pulsed bright, once, twice, three times... and then the lot of them fell over sound asleep.

Disarray looked at them with wide eyes. "Did she just knock herself out?"

Knight-Commander Starbuck poked the unconscious alicorn's flank. Luna twitched. "She'll be fine in a few hours," he eventually rumbled, before turning for the door and leaving.

"Few hours, huh? That could work." Disarray followed after him, pausing at the doorway. He held it open for the only other conscious pony in the room.

Lyra accepted the silent invitation. Going up to the deck would do her some good. She was still exhausted from the previous day's events, and the reawakening of the last Elder hadn't really done her any favors.

They had boarded the nameless ship early in the morning, while she was still being overhauled by Celestia’s ponies in the shipyard. Her captain hadn’t minded the refurbishing, badly needed as it was, and a large amount of supplies had followed her guests aboard. Princess Luna had freed the last member of her old vanguard; Omnius, called the Guardian. The Ambassador had collapsed promptly thereafter.

Once the ship had been seen to, Luna had charted a course for the heart of the Everfree. There, the Fount emerged from the roots of the earth in the form of a great crystal tree, thrumming with power and bearing strange fruit.

Most knew it as the Tree of Harmony.

This tree would allow the Elders --- Ragdoll, Ferrous, and Omnius --- to finally leave Equestria, removing their bonds of servitude to her, a relic of her days as Nightmare Moon. She couldn't blame them. They'd had their fair share.

After that, Lyra Heartstrings needed to truly take up the mantle of Outland Ambassador. But Luna would be there to show her the way. There was much work to be done; seven centuries worth of Outlanders to account for. They could be any shape or size, living peacefully within Equestrian cities or towns... or harming innocents unmolested. Outlanders were immigrants to Equestria, intentionally or not, and the Outland Embassasy was accountable for them.

Lyra chewed on the inside of her lip, thoughtfully watching the giant Nocturni squeeze through the tight confines of the ship as they clambered towards the deck. Lyra had her work cut out for her, it seemed.

The Princess already had pinpointed the first of hopefully many Outlanders. The Dreamtime had been all but shaken to pieces last night with the strangest of visions from this particular entity. She'd spied flashes of green cloth and rusty brown fur, glowing pink eyes and bandaged limbs. Luna knew not what it was, only that it bore them no ill will and harbored a startlingly large amount of magic. Near the township of Aappleoosa, this one had been pinpointed. His name was Echo, and if the earlier conversation with Discord held any truth, bringing him into the fold could be troublesome...

She suddenly slammed into an immovable brick wall of finely sculpted stallion flank. Thank Celestia that Bon Bon wasn't here to see the flush to her face. Starbuck had stopped abruptly. Lyra peered around his armored bulk to see Captain Tythus breathing hard in the hallway.

"We've got a problem," was all he said.

BOSS INCOMING...

"Is... that one of ours?"

Tythus had his forehooves resting atop the railing that separated the deck from open sky. Behind him stood the brother and sister alicorns, Borealis and Australis, and Knight-Commander Starbuck. But it was Lyra who asked the question, and it was to her he responded.

"Not anymore. I'd recognize that vessel anywhere. It's the sister ship of the one we're flying right now. I sold it to a mercenary captain in return for his assistance in the Battle of Wethoof. See that flag flying off the mainmast? Black sword with wings? That's the Possibility all right, and she's coming for us with her fangs out. They've probably gone full blown pirate."

"Pirates!?" Lyra gasped. In the far distance to the aft, a sinister skyship cut through the glimmer of the setting sun. Even from here, Tythus could see it bristling with cannons and blades.

"How long..." began Duke Borealis.

"... have they been following?" finished Duchess Australis.

"Mere minutes. They were flying above cloud cover and dropped down for an ambush, but didn't account for our greater speed."

"But... but why?" Lyra sputtered. "How!?"

Tythus scowled. "I wish I knew. But their leader is unpredictable and violent. If they're chasing us down, it can't be good. And there's certainly something else going on here."

Starbuck surprised them all by coming to the conclusion first. "Been sold out," he growled.

"My thoughts exactly." Tythus' face was grim. "Nopony knew of this trip save those aboard and Princess Celestia herself. And yet, they knew when and where to find us. We've been compromised, but the question remains; why? Surely they knew who would be traveling. Why try and take on three fully-fledged alicorns, three dangerous Outlanders, the leader of the Moonguard, the Patchwork Prince, and myself? We've got enough firepower to match the Elements!"

"Luna and her friends are currently dreaming together," Lyra said. "I don't think they're going to be waking up anytime soon."

"Nope," agreed Starbuck.

Tythus rubbed his forhead with a hoof. "That leaves us with six out of ten, and I've heard the stories; we're down the heavy hitters. Wait." He looked around. "Where's Disarray?"

He was right; the draconnequus was nowhere to be seen. Lyra could have sworn he was in the hallways with her and Starbuck not a moment before...

"Five out of ten! Where is he!?" Tythus roared.

"Why is it important?" Lyra wondered aloud.

"He's..." Tythus frowned. Then it deepened into a full scowl. "We're suddenly down to half our fighting strength, and pirates get the jump on us. We're harboring four unconscious, vulnerable beings containing immense magical power down below at the very same instant. We're also on the way to the Fount, the only place that could strip them of that power... This is too convenient to be coincidence."

"You don't think..." began Australis.

"I'm not jumping to conclusions!" Tythus interrupted her brother's inevitable chiming. "But admit this is fishy. I met the Prince at Wethoof, fought beside him. He's unpredictable. And powerful. Him and the Outlander he consorts with. I've never felt so much chaos magic in one place, and I was there when Discord busted free."

Lyra's eyes widened. "Outlander!? Is it the same one we were going after once we finish with the Elders?"

"Echo?" Tythus nodded. "Yes. The Prince never stays away from him for very long. After Disarray gave him some of his magic, it's almost like they're the same entity."

Australis and Borealis suddenly exchanged a worried look.

Tythus caught the exchange. "Is there something you aren't telling me, you two?"

"We did not know this Outlander contained the magic of two chaotic entities. If both Discord and Disarray donated a substantial portion of their essence to him..."

"... then he now possesses the largest pool of chaotic power in the Equestria. Enough to cast down Discord at his height. Or any of the the Royalty."

Starbuck whistled. Lyra sat down in disbelief. Tythus gritted his teeth and sighed. "I thought my retirement was going to be quiet. Captain a shyship, they said. Volunteer for small time government work, they said. Why do I listen to idiots?"

Tythus stomped his hoof on the ground, startling them.

"Look, there's too many pieces in play here. We need to deal with things one at a time. Starting with them!" He pointed at the horizon, where the pirate skyship had drawn much closer. "As captain of this vessel, I'm taking charge of her defense. Any objections?"

"They outnumber us three to one," Lyra meekly pointed out.

"Then it is an even fight," Tythus growled. He glared at the assembled ponies.

Not a single hoof was raised.

"Right then. Ambassador, I need you at the helm. Commander, you're on boarding party detail. Australis and Borealis, you two are going to fire up those auroras of yours and make them as strong as you can. This is going to get dirty.

You Know Damn Well Who

"Sir! They're coming about!"

The Possibility once looked exactly like the dark sister she chased across the sky. Now, she was covered in thick slabs of metal welded to the hull, giving her a stocky, brutal appearance. One of the crew had recognized her for what she was, and painted several bright red slashes up and down her hull, like wet streaks of blood. Her envelope was also reinforced with metal, partly for protection, but mostly to contain the violent thunderhead within. Nopony in their right mind used thunderheads for floatation; while extremely buoyant and maneuverable, if they were also dangerous and unpredictable.

Fortunately, it could be said that her captain wasn't in his right mind.

At the bow of the pirate ship, a tall, cloaked gryphon casually leaned against a black sword that was almost as big as he was. Everything about him conveyed the sense of an impending natural disaster, from feathered crest to twitching lion's tail. Red tribal markings crossed his chest, and icy blue eyes narrowed dangerously at the sight of his quarry stalling in the sky, presenting her side to him.

In one talon, he thumbed at a small white chess piece. A white bishop.

"Captain Griffin!" the lookout cried again, some worry in their voice. "I see lights appearing on the deck! Powerful magic at work, sir!"

"Groovy," he sneered. "Roll out the guns."

Beings of all shapes and size jumped into action. Ponies, gryphons, diamond dogs, zebras, minotaurs, all of them just as ragged and roguish as the ship they sailed. The decks rumbled as several huge iron cannons were wheeled into place. Below, small gunports in the ship's hull opened as even more artillery was presented to open sky. The looming black ship in the distance suddenly looked very easy to swat out of the sky.

"Ready to fire, sir!" announced a nearby ship's mate. "We've got them in range!"

Griffin clacked his beak. "Make it rain, boys."

BOSS BATTLE: DREAD PIRATE GRIFFIN

The Ambassador

Lyra Heartstrings was many things. A musician. Slightly unhinged. A philosopher. Part-time street performer, full time astronomer. Lover of a certain set of candied flanks. Occasionally prone to fits of paranoia. Also an ambassador to aliens from outer space.

She was not, however, ready for when the sky itself exploded.

Kracka-booooom! Kracka-boo-boo-boooooom!

"Brace for shock!" Tythus roared.

Lyra clung to the helm. Even through closed eyes and gritted teeth, she could still see lights on the underside of her lids. The hum of deep magic rattled the very air. She moaned, shivering. Thunderous cracks of noise sounded across the deck. Heat and light, wooden planks shuddering.

"Bring us about, Miss Heartstrings! Hard to port!"

Right. That was her. She could do this. Probably. Wincing, she dared open her eyes. Tythus was standing off to the side, his horn coated in a thick, bright layer of overglow. She gasped at what his efforts produced; a solid wall of magic completely screening the ship from the port side. Several smoking balls of metal hung in the field. Lyra couldn't help but notice the aura had cracked in several places.

Another salvo, this time several shots passing off the bow.

"Miss Hearstrings!"

"Eep!" Lyra grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the left with as much strength as she could. The ship jumped about, and suddenly the bow was pointed straight at the oncoming foe. The golden shield shifted with them, changing shape into a mighty, flared spire that projected forward from the bow.

"Any time, your Highnessess!" roared Tythus, his voice strained with effort.

At the stern, both Australis and Borealis pointed their horns out into open sky, away from the bow. Their flowing manes suddenly sparkled with energy, and their wings opened in tandem, black feathers bristling. They braced themselves in a wide stance upon the deck. A colossal fountain of energy and light erupted in front of them, spewing far and wide into the air.

"Hang on, everypony!" Tythus called. "This might get bumpy!"

The unmanned ship bucked and lurched and surged forward at an unbelievable rate from the force of the aurora jet. The sheer acceleration threw Lyra's mane back and had her blinking back tears.

"On my mark, Miss Heartstrings!"

Lyra could barely even strain her magic to grasp the bone handle, the first in the row on the right side. Pull the thing, that's all she had to do, just like he showed her. It was hard to think over the sound of wind.

Kracka-boo-boo-boo-boooom!

A third broadside from the pirates, but it bounced wildly off the angled magical cone in every direction.

Their ship was suddenly very, very close. Dozens of pirates were bailing out over the sides, carrying the ones who couldn't fly. Lyra could make out a tall figure at the bow, a gryphon. He had his middle talon raised at them with both claws.

Tythus' horn pulsed, and the aura snapped into the shape of a jagged battering ram.

"HIT IT!"

She hit it.

The decking rose up to meet her as the ship careened upwards at the very last second, bow now pointed squarely at their envelope.

SSSCCCKKHHHRRAAASSSHHHH!

She had a split second to register flying towards the wheel before the lights went out.

"Ugh..."

Lyra's eyes fluttered open for the second time that day. The sky was mercifully still. The decking felt like an old friend to her tired, battered body. Her hearing felt muffled, and her muscles had a delightfully fuzzy feeling, almost like they were numb. She had to remark, it was such a nice day out, if it weren't for the fact that everything sucked right about now.

...Wait a minute, wasn't she in the middle of something?

Lyra peeled her face off the deck to behold a scene of chaos.

Their ship hung at a crazy angle in the sky. The bow was pointed up high, but they listed hard to starboard. The deck rattle and rumbled with strain, and Lyra could see that a large chunk of the bow's hull had been ripped away, reduced to nothing but smoking splinters. In fact, the entire front end of the ship seemed decidedly scorched.

Something seized her about the withers and pulled. Lyra found herself lurching upright, and blinking into the smoky grey face of Starbuck. His armor was singed and dented, and countless small nicks and scrapes covered any exposed coat. "Wha...?"

"Thunderhead," Starbuck rasped, as if that explained everything. He pulled at her again, and she fell bonelessly into his grasp. She found herself thrown atop his back like a sack of potatoes.

From this angle, she could see everything. The deck was swarming with filthy creatures, fighting hard against a storm of gold and blue and green at the center, where a battered Tythus stood tall with the alicorns at his back. All of them were fighting with wing and hoof and horn, but it was a losing battle against the swarm of angry pirates. They had thick metal rings latched onto their horns, and Lyra numbly jerked as she recognized null bands.

They can't use magic, she realized in growing dread.

They fought magnificently, even without the aid of arcane power. Tythus danced about upon his hind legs, head down and shoulders hunched as his forelimbs flashed out in front of him. Lyra had seen this before, a rare form of martial art practiced by zebra shamans. He was a force of nature, bobbing and weaving as blades and magic spells flashed around him, punching out and breaking bones with savage punches, headbutts, and strange leaping kicks. Meanwhile, the Twins worked as a seamless storm of hoof and feather, almost dancing together as they kicked and pummeled with huge, lanky limbs. Where one darted forwards, the other followed to cover, and then they switched like flowing water, impossibly contorting around each other to fight multiple pirates at once.

For a moment, it seemed like they beat the tide back, if only for a moment. At some unseen signal, the pirates formed a wide ring around them, howling taunts and beating the deck with their weapons, but drawing no closer.

Starbuck stiffened beneath her. His fluffy ears twitched. Could he hear something she didn't?

"Mine mine mine mine mine mine mine..."

The other pirates scattered.

"Oh, no!"

"Cap's on the warpath!"

"Everypony for himself!"

Tythus drew into a defensive stance. At his side, Australis and Borealis readied themselves.

"Mine mine mine mine mine...!"

Tythus flinched. "Duck!" he roared, hitting the deck.

Borealis dipped left. Australis jigged right...

Wham!

The sound of bones breaking. Australis was wrenched off her hooves and sent skipping across the deck like a sack of potatoes, bonelessly slamming into the mast, which shattered upon impact, before slumping down with a groan as trickles of blood ran from her muzzle.

"Headshot, bitch!" The huge gryphon from before skidded to a halt, talons grinding into the deck. His right claw uncurled from the fist it had made.

Lyra gaped. Had he just sucker-punched an alicorn!?

"So, the prodigal asshole returns," Tythus sneered at the avian. "I'd say it's nice to see you again, Griffin. But you know I'm allergic to scumbag."

"Problem, bro?" said the avian.

"As a matter of fact, yes!" Tythus spat. "You shot at me!"

"And you almost killed me!" retorted Griffin.

"You attacked my ship!" Tythus sputtered.

"Yeah, and you just blew mine the fuck up! Who's really in the wrong here, huh?"

"THAT DOESN'T MAKE THE LEAST AMOUNT OF SENSE!"

"You mad?"

"LIVID, ACTUALLY! WHAT KIND OF IDIOT EVEN USES THUNDERHEADS NOWADAYS!?"

Griffin pointed at himself. "The kind that's unquestionably badass."

The unicorn facing him snorted, scraping at the ground. He closed his eyes. "I retired... after thirty five years of service... for this shit." A vein on his forehead pulsed. "You know what? Borealis? I am so done right now. Could you?"

Borealis glanced across the deck at the fallen form of his sister, then narrowed his gaze at the gryphon. He snarled as his eyes flashed pure white.

"I'm gonna spitroast this overgown turkey on his own sword!"

Griffin blinked. "... spaced out for a second there, what the what?"

"Hrrrahhh!" In the space of an eyeblink, Borealis crossed the distance between them with a bound and hopped off his forelimbs, backflipping into a massive bicycle kick. Pow! One huge black hoof caught Griffin under the beak and launched him skyward.

Fwssshhh! Borealis' gigantic wingspan sent dust and splinters flying, before he sent himself rocketing after the limp avian.

Griffin saw him coming though, and halted himself with a flare of his own wings. The huge black sword blurred into motion, a sweeping horizontal slice. It was fast.

Not fast enough. He missed, slicing off a single hair from the long, dark blue mane. And then Borealis was in close, and it turned into a brawl. They danced together in a pirouette of death, raining down blows in and endless stream of punches, kicks and swipes. Niether combatant gave quarter, neither one backed down an inch, if anything, increasing the speed and ferocity of their onslaught. For a split second, though, Griffin extended his reach on a thrust, and Borealis rushed in for the kill.

Despite the alicorn's bulk, he moved with a disturbing grace and speed, dancing around the singing blade with a savage headbutt to the stomach, before spinning midair and swatting Griffin out of the sky with the back of his wing.

"Woooooooo-oomph-!" Griffin impacted the deck hard enough to send splinters out in every direction. The gryphon vanished into the belly of the ship with a cry and a snapping of wood.

There was a pause. The pirate crew collectively winced.

"Did... did you just pimp slap him through the floor?" Tythus muttered.

Borealis merely alit upon the deck next to the hole, peering down into the darkness of the ship. He couldn't see anything, even when he squinted his eyes.

Suddenly, a shot of debris ripped out of the hole. Reflexively, a black wing was raised to intercept it. In that instant, Griffin tore through the hole at full speed, dropping a shoulder straight into the surprised alicorn. "Hiiii-yah!"

Borealis gasped, skidding backwards from the impact. Griffin didn't let up the advantage, swinging the sword in from on high. This time, a bundle of black feathers drifted into the wind. The next slash cut a strip of fur off. Borealis backpedaled furiously, crossing the deck as the pirate hounded him, not giving him an inch to recover.

And then he tripped, stumbling over the limp form of his own fallen sister.

His eyes widened.

Griffin snarled. "Gotcha!" The sword glinted in the sunlight.

There was a horrible screeching noise.

Something clattered to the deck. Something long and spiraled, glinting darkly even as it leaked sparks of magic.

Borealis' eyes crossed as he gazed at the stump jutting from his forehead. He had a moment to register the shock, to scream, before Griffin brutally grabbed him around the barrel with both talons and bent backwards, letting fly with a suplex that shattered the teeth in his skull. The alicorn gargled in pain once, then went still.

Griffin straightened, dusting himself off. He grinned, picking up the fallen horn, throwing it like a dagger into the deck at Tythus' hooves, where it sank in, quivering. He leveled his great blade at the unicorn. "Never bet on the dark horse! Come and get it yourself, you old fuck!"

But Tythus had already moved. If Borealis had been fast, then the unicorn was greased lightning, landing three stunning blows to the chest in rapid-fire succession, before spinning and sweeping Griffin's legs out from under him.

Griffin had an instant to cartwheel through the air before two rear hooves planted themselves firmly in his crotch with all the grace and finesse of a thunderclap.

Echo jerked awake, breathing hard. His eyes darted from side to side. He crossed his legs, whimpering.

"Bad dream?" Daring asked from across the campfire.

He could only nod.

Shining Armor was busy filling out a sheaf of paperwork at his desk when suddenly he doubled over, gasping. At the doors to his office, the the two stallion guards hunched over. After a moment, it passed.

"...The hell was that?" one of the guards eventually wheezed.

Shining Armor gritted his teeth as he resisted the urge to vomit. "I don't know," he gasped. "But it must have hurt."

In Ponyville, Big Macintosh paused in his duties at the family stand. He turned to his side, gently removing Applejack's hat from between her fuzzy ears.

Applejack was not amused. "Hey! Big Mac, what gives?"

He did not respond, instead placing the hat across his chest and bowing his head.

A single tear trickled down his face.

The assembled pirates' jaws collectively dropped as their captain collapsed to the ground with a sound not unlike a balloon deflating.

Silence.

Then, Tythus smirked, posed, mane blowing in the wind. "Right in the chicken nuggets," he stated.

Griffin let out a weak -- if very shrill -- moan of agony.

"Don't just s-stand there, you id-diots!" He squeaked. "F-fuck him the fuck up!"

The pirates suddenly remembered that they outnumbered the solitary unicorn, and he no longer had any alicorns to back him up. Still, Tythus dropped into a fighting crouch. His eyes roved over the crowd as they surged in, finally settling on Starbuck and herself. He cried, "Go! Get out of here!"

Lyra could only watch as he was swallowed up by the horde...

No...

Starbuck wheeled about, and the scene was lost to her. There was a lurching, a strain of leather and bone, and they were airborne. The Nocturni's broad wings clutched at the air, finding purchase and sending them sailing downwards.

"T-the... Princess." Lyra wheezed softly. "We c-can't leave her..."

"They teleported," he said over his shoulder. "Dunno where. Dunno how. Captain told me t' take ya and run."

Despite the situation, that was a huge relief on her part. "Now w-what?"

"Answers." His speech was short and clipped, even more than usual. Lyra could see a thick splinter of wood sticking out from his side, quite close to her face. It was stained a deep red. "Go somewhere safe."

Something had gone very wrong today. Lyra wasn't a fool, but she knew she was in way over her head. She needed to figure out what was going on here, who was involved, and why.

She needed to find Disarray. He'd know what happened. But how to find the Prince?

Think Lyra... think...

"...Echo?" Tythus nodded. "Yes. The Prince never stays away from him for very long..."

That was it. Find this Echo, find Disarray, find Luna and the Elders... somehow save the day and crawl back into bed with Bon Bon and never leave home again.

"Aappleoosa," she breathed. She could feel her eyes closing. "We n-need to go there."

"Yep." Starbuck's wings pumped, and they shot off into the sky.

Achievement Earned: "Scrambled Eggs"

Level up! - Lyra Heartstrings, Outland Ambassador

-Perk Unlocked: Takes a Certain Kind of Crazy: (+10% chance to critical on any action or interaction) Every once and a while, you take things a little too far. This can either be really awesome, or really awesome. There can be no downside to this.

-Ally Perk Unlocked: Far From the Tree: (+5 damage resistance, +5 strength, +5 stamina, +5 charisma, +5 throwback) Something about Starbuck says he's been in a situation like this before. Just being around him is a boost, though. Probably because he's a batpony. And a boss.

Allies Lost!

-Captain Tythus of House Aegis, the Iron Shield of Canterlot

-Duke Aurora Borealis, Bearer of the Northern Lights

-Duchess Aurora Australis, Bearer of the Southern Lights

-Princess Luna, Lady of the Night

-The Elders; Omnius, Ferrous, and Ragdoll

Disarray idily munched upon a bowl of popcorn as he lounged against the cloud. In the distance, the shattered, smoking wreck of a ship drifted lazily towards the ground, while another one hung still in the sky, covered in a tide of vandals and thieves. On the other horizon, a speck of motion, a pony in flight and another one. He shivered to himself.

The draconequus giggled.

“Hoo-hoo-hoo… I love this game.”

With that, he snapped a finger, and vanished.

[II - Eleventh] Because Love Conquers All

View Online

ACT THE SECOND, CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH

In which Echo goes home.

Echo and Daring Do

There is a hole in the ground.

The hole in itself isn't particularly of interest. Large, to be sure -- big enough to fit a wagon through. Its location wasn't much to be bothered with, either. There are quite a few holes in the arid desert surrounding Aappleoosa, so as far as things go, this certain hole was certainly nothing special.

However, what lies within the hole could easily be considered of great importance -- at least to those who deem it so -- thus, two rather bored diamond dogs found themselves sweltering out in the hot sun, standing watch over this very somewhat special hole in the ground. Neither of them were exemplary diamond dogs as far as they go; good noses, strong arms, kleptomaniacal itchings, not particularly bright, but fate had deemed that these two pick the short straws from the lot. Which meant a great deal of standing around, watching tumbleweeds pass by and trying not to trip over their own tongues in the oppressive heat (the armor probably didn't help much). It was late evening, and even though the sun was yet setting in the sky, the dunes would hold the sun's warmth for a while yet.

The two had resigned themselves to this unfortunate fate, and as such, were particularly confused when something happened that interrupted their regularly scheduled broadcast of monotony.

That something being a distant shape materializing out of the shimmering desert like some kind of wraith.

The guard on the left chewed idly at a large ruby stick. He squinted his beady eyes. The shape was coming closer. It looked like a diamond dog, clad in green and carrying a staff. But he couldn't be sure. Mirages could be tricky like that. "Hey," he grunted to the one on the right. "Whuzzat?"

"Eh?" The right guard had been playing with a grasshopper, which he promptly forgot about. He squinted into the desert. "Where?"

"On the left," said the left guard.

The right guard turned right. "I don't see nothin'."

The left guard reached over and bapped the right guard over the helm. "Left!""

"Which way is that, again?" The right guard held up his paws in confusion.

"It's... uh..." the left guard scratched his head, then pointed. "That way!"

"Oh!" the right guard turned and peered at where he was pointing. "Still don't see anythin'."

The left guard was about to give him another thump, when he realized his companion was right. The mysterious image had vanished from sight. "Huh! Could have sworn I see something." He then felt someone lean up on his shoulder.

"Really? What was it?"

The left guard didn't seem to notice that the voice came from inside his head, or that suddenly there were three diamond dogs standing outside the hole. He pointed again. "Looked like one of us. Tall, though. And green."

"Like this?" the new diamond dog patted himself with a free paw, the other of which was casually thrown across the left guard's shoulders. He was wearing a loose green garment that was open down the middle, sleeveless, with a hood thrown up that that let two tufted ears stand high through two tailored holes. A thick leather belt with a myriad of pouches was attached around his waist, and a long staff was clutched in his armpit.

"Hey, yeah!" the left guard nodded eagerly. "Look here!" he called to the right guard. "This is what I was talkin' about."

"Oh, I see it now!" the right guard. "So left means right next to us!"

"Left means right?" asked the stranger.

"No, left means that way," the left guard insisted on his chosen direction.

"That way is east," said the stranger.

"So then what's left?"

"Well, it's your left, too."

The left guard opened his mouth to say something, then paused. "How can be two things?" He sat down in the sand, rubbing his nose. "I has headache, now."

"That what happens when you think a thought," said the right guard. "Right?"

"Don't you mean east?"

"I..." the right guard began, then thought better of it. "Huh. I dunno."

The stranger sat down in the sand next to the left guard, patting him on the head. "So what are two bright boys like you doing out here on your lonesome?"

"We standing watch over hole into our den," muttered the left guard, now massaging his temples. "Not supposed to let anyone in who isn't a Dust Devil in. Alpha's orders."

"That's probably a good thing. Don't want to let in any unsavory types, right?" The stranger patted him on the back again and stood up to his full height, which was actually a good head taller than the guards. He took a step towards the entrance to the hole, when a large paw shot out to block his way.

The right guard held his arm out, squinting. "Do I know you?"

"Maybe? I'm Echo. I'm not from around here. Nice to meet you!" A smile. Another pat on the head.

The right guard grinned. "Oh, okay, Echo-I'm-Not-From-Around-Here-Nice-To-Meet-You. I know you now. Wait..." he suddenly realized. "I didn't know you." His muzzle scrunched up in effort. "I think we not supposed to let you in."

The stranger clasped him on both shoulders. "Probably not. But you guys said only Dust Devils are allowed in?"

"East," said the right guard, nodding dumbly.

"Well, that works out -- I'm here to join the Dust Devils!" Echo pointed to himself with a thumb. "But I don't know where to find your leader to ask, though."

The right guard frowned for a moment. The stranger seemed nice. He was tall and strong-looking and carried himself like the Alpha or the Beta. He must be really smart! And he hadn't yelled at them once! Even though the right guard was sure he'd be in trouble for playing with that grasshopper when he stood on watch. He immediately decided he wouldn't mind this stranger being in the Dust Devils.

"I can take you to her!" the right guard yipped excitedly. Oh, this could be fun having a new packmate! "Come on!" With that, he spun about and dived headfirst into the hole in the ground.

Echo was left standing there, facing the dark hole. He spun about on one foot, now facing the left guard. He waved. "G'bye," the left guard waved back. Echo stuck out his middle fingers, then proceeded to fall over backwards, vanishing into the hole.

The left guard poked out his own middle fingers, repeating the curious gesture.

"Huh..."

A few miles away, Daring Do watched as the tongues of golden fire danced around the small campfire. On the other side of the blaze, Lady Pyrite had settled into a tight, gem-studded coil. She could see the flickering glow of flames in the dragoness' blind eyes.

The camp was set up on the edge of a small ravine, at the very border of grasslands that shadowed the desert. Beyond, the land was nothing but dunes and the occasional mesa until the horizon swooped down to eat it. Echo had left not an hour before, padding emotionlessly into the distance until he vanished into the shimmer of heat.

Daring poked at a pebble buried into the dry, dry ground.

The campfire crackled.

Pyrite shuffled in place, scales rasping softly against each other.

Crickets chirped.

Abruptly, Daring stood up. "I'm going for a ride," she declared, not particularly caring if Pyrite responded, and an instant later, her wings snapped down and propelled her high into the night sky.

Out in the desert, the sand and rock baked all day long, absorbing the furnace from above. At night, they gave the warmth back to air. Flying in the desert after the sun went down was as effortless as breathing. Thermals rose in mighty, invisible columns from the desert floor, sometimes stretching miles into the air. She found one easily, feathers tingling with the temperature difference. Daring did not even have to flap once she entered the thermal and was slowly borne aloft on the river of wind.

High, higher, higher still, until the far edge of her sight dipped down into curvature of the globe. She hung above it all like a dusky golden star, and if it weren't for the fact that she could feel the air rush between her feathers, she'd have sworn she were floating. The effect was slightly disorienting. It wasn't often a pegasus got vertigo, but Daring had never flown quite so far up before.

Up here, there was nothing but moonlight and her own heartbeat.

She could think.

"I think I can see my house from here!"

Daring rolled her eyes. Of course. She hadn't taken off her saddlebag. The snowy white head of an alicorn poked out of this, looking down as his colorful mane blew in the wind. "Entropy, don't you have anything better to do than bother me?"

It was kind of weird talking to just somepony's head, but just about anything could fit inside those saddlebags.... and apparently, the saddlebag's twin shared the same space, so that meant Ginger Snap had kicked him in there for annoying her, wherever she was at the time.

Entropy grinned. "Yes! But I want to bother you. That's what friends do! And besides, you've got a pretty long face going on there."

"Going to pretend you didn't make that joke," Daring grunted. "And I'm perfectly fine."

The alicorn's head tut-tutted. "I can sense your thoughts all a-jumble, my dear. Hiding confusion from me is like trying to convince a nocturni to stare at the sun. You need sunglasses to do it right."

Daring banked gently to the left, coasting into a slow, spiraling ascent that let the world below her rotate as if on a platter.

"I don't know what you're talking about..."

"I think you do, DD. You've been wound up tighter than one of the spring-loaded booby-traps Auntie Luna puts in her personal lavatory ever since Aappleoosa."

"I just..." Daring frowned. "It's about Echo. This is the first time we've, y'know, had a break in things, and it's really strange. I can still kind of feel him right now, a little tickle in the back of my head, and what I'm getting is sending me a lot of mixed signals."

"Relationship problems," Entropy coughed. "Okay. You talk to the bastard about this?"

Daring grunted. "You asked for it."

"That I did..."

Daring sighed before beginning. "It's like this; he and I had a bit of a falling out recently. Trust issues. He... he didn't exactly lie to me, but he didn't come to me with the truth about something, something really important. I guess I always knew he had secrets, but I never thought he'd keep them from me."

"Everypony is entitled to keep a secret," Entropy murmured, suddenly very somber.

"I know. That's what's bugging me, that this bothered me so much! I mean, it really shouldn't be that big of a deal..." Daring gave a frustrated groan. "And we're both trying to come together and work through this, but I know he's hiding something else in there. Something even worse than before."

"What, that Echo is Outlander?"

He said it so casusally, Daring actually jerked around in mid air. "You knew!?"

Entropy's head stretched out of her saddlebag, followed by a long white neck, a tye-dyed cloak, and large white wings. The alicorn fell out of her bag, before spreading out and settling into flight next to her. He nodded somberly. "It takes one to know one. I am half-blooded myself, considering who my sire is."

"Right. Discord..." Daring paused. "How did that, like, work between him and--"

"The insemination was artificially done and as terms of a peace treaty," Entropy coldly stated. "Equestria lost when they tried to get rid of him the first time. He thought it'd be funny to have the leader of the uprising bear his child. He didn't think they'd ever start seeing the other differently."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

Daring awkwardly shuffled her shoulders.

"And I also know the other thing Echo is hiding," Entropy continued, the bite in his voice now gone. He gave her a questioning gaze. "Would you like to know as well?"

"Yes," Daring answered. "Wait! N-no. I mean..." She stammered. "I don't know! I want him to tell me on his own, but I still, really, really want to know. If... if it's something bad, I want to help him."

"Well, let me give you a hint at least. You know he is not of this particular slice of the universe..."

"Yeah," Daring nodded slowly.

"So you know the who and the what. Do you know why and how?"

She frowned. "...No. Is that what's got him so tied up inside?"

"Oh, without a doubt."

Daring bit her lips. This was a train of thought she had never really explored before. Just how had Echo come to Equestria, exactly? She knew his real home to be far, far away, with precious little magic to spare. And the why.... to explore? A vacation? A quest? Or...

"...Or, perhaps, more sinister purposes," Entropy purred.

Daring shivered. "Is it that bad?"

"Could be." Entropy shrugged. "He has a gift that he can't return. Maybe re-gift it. I can, how they say, help him out of a jam, in terms of this little problem, you know," he continued. "I promise you, it isn't something he'll open up about any time soon, but I might be able to expedite the process..."

"You can?" Daring adjusted her flight into the oncoming breeze, now simply hanging in the air. Entropy swirled around her, somehow snakelike and wiry even with the body of an alicorn.

"I can, silly bird. If you want to call in a favor..."

"If it's for the best, then please," Daring murmured. "I just want him to be happy here, with me."

"And that's what I'm looking for. If I'm doing this for love, you know, I can't possibly fail. Even if it isn't mine. Because love conquers all." He twitched, then squinted up at the starry sky. "Boom. Title drop. Happy now?" Chuckling filled the sudden swirl of wind that smelled like fireworks and arcane magic, and Daring realized the alicorn had vanished into the night. Silently, she glided alone for a few moments more, wondering what she had just done. Then, with a weary flap, she descended back down to the distant speck of light on the ground that marked their campfire.

Echo was starting to think that the universe, and whatever sadistic entity ruled it, had an overt fondness of caves and underground labryinths. They seemed to be a recurring feature of his travels; that is, him going down into these dark, warm holes on quite a regular basis.

...

... He suddenly realized that a great deal of his subterranean adventures were also thinly veiled sex jokes.

Fuck.

A prickle of discomfort twinged through his thoughts.

Ah, there she was, the tingly feeling in the back of his mind that he'd come to miss and dread so much over the past week.

Daring had managed to re-establish their mental connection, at least enough for the barest of emotions to seep through. He could sense her, a ping of trepidation... and... hope? Mentally, he shrugged it aside, deciding not to investigate and keeping his wall up. Things were still awkward between the two. They'd taken a step in the right direction to fix the rift that had grown... but Echo still needed to stitch the final patch himself.

If only he knew how...

He sighed. Daring and Pyrite were waiting somewhere outside, ready to spring in at a moment's notice if the plan went wrong. This was a critical point in his grand scheme, and if things went belly-up here, the dream of the Cinderwings, of a diamond dog race united under a single, peaceful banner, might as well bite the dust.

They didn't know that, however.

Diplomacy usually worked... so this couldn't be too hard, right?

Now exactly wasn't the time to be playing things by ear, but hell, most of his plans ended up screwing him over anyway. When all of this blew over, he banked on retiring to his favorite beanbag in the Shagwagon with a cold stein of cider and telling the universe to properly fuck off and stop dragging him into all these deluded escapades of half-baked faggotry.

"Pst. Fluffy."

A tickling came from his nose, much like a bee had flown up a nostril and had started buzzing around as pleased as could be. He sneezed out of reflex, and a pint-sized alicorn shot out of a nostril and splattered onto the cave wall. Wincing, he scraped it off the rock and gingerly wiped it off on his robe. Entropy?

The tiny little version of the Prince gave him a cheery wave where he perched upon a paw. "What's up, stretch!"

Now, Echo had seen a lot of strange things in his time on Equestria. Sneezing out a member of the Royal Family ranked about a Three on his List, topped only by the time he'd seen Ginger Snap in a bubble bath, and what happened in Rio De Maneiro. But the less people knew about that last one, the better.

"Whoa... tiny little pony!" The right guard snuffled at the miniature once-prince. "Who this? Why he with you? Why he here? How you get so small pony?"

"Well, I took a trip on the magic schoolbus for my biology class..."

Echo shuffled between the two, hiding Entropy behind his back, who protested in a squeaky voice. He clapped the guard on the shoulder, smiling broadly. That was my pet breezie. He kind of comes and goes, but he won't be a problem.

"Breezie!? Really? Those assholes are like the worst kind of people! They took the innocence of my petunias!"

The guard squinted hard, then shrugged, before turning and continuing down the path.

Echo let out a sigh of relief. I've been up to the usual, friend. Pissing off Ginger, foiling her plans, partying with the Apple family, had a falling out with Daring... now I'm about to take over a diamond dog pack. Still haven't paced that last one together yet. Haven't seen much of you lately, he commented, watching the path ahead swerve around some boulders. How are things?

Entropy grinned. "Your hot feathered mama sent me to give you a leg up. Figured it was about time I start playing the game, y'know? Been sitting behind the pawns for far too long. I've got something big in the works!"

That was nice of her. How big is big? Like, world-shaking-this-changes-everything-kind-of-big, or...

"Drill-that-will-pierce-the-heavens-kind-of-big."

Echo paused. Holy shit. The guard escorting him went a few further steps before stopping with a raised eyebrow. Echo waved him off and trotted back into the pace.

So, care to divulge this plan of yours? Maybe we can put our heads together. Help each other out.

"That's actually why I'm here right now," said Entropy, his voice suddenly losing the mirth it usually held. "Echo, we're friends, right?"

I think you were like the second nice person I met in Equestria, so you're pretty up there, guy.

Entropy nodded, smiling, and swallowed. "So, friends do each other favors, right?"

Echo ducked under a low hanging beam of wood wedged between the walls. That we do. He hustled after the guard, hearing the sound of activity coming from further up the tunnel.

"I was wondering, do you know what happened to all that chaos magic I pumped you full of back when we met?"

Still have it, I'm pretty sure. He patted himself down, as if he could actually feel the currents of power running under his skin. Sometimes it felt like he could, especially when he used Starsight. Actually... now that I think about it, Discord gave me tons of magic, too. And... technically Ginger Snap, via lightning bolt.

"Really?" Entropy fluttered his eyelashes. "D'ya think I could maybe have that back for a while?"

... Sure, once I'm all done here. Echo chewed on his lip. He couldn't really see the harm in giving up the vast amount of energy he'd soaked up over the months. It wasn't like he could even use it, really, and Entropy-slash-Disarray was one of his closest friends. The telepathy spell was the extent of his magic use, and Starsight just tapped into the ambient fields around him... What are you going to do with it?

Entropy grinned. "Become a protagonist!"

...

Right. Well, that made about as much sense as he'd guessed. It's as good as yours. Just let me finish before you suck me dry.

"Was that a dirty joke?" Entropy giggled. "In return, I'll help you... help yourself... and expedite this little revolution you're going to ignite in a few moments. The Cinderwings will become the largest pack in Equestria in ten seconds flat, and you won't even have to lift a paw yourself!"

That sounds fair. Oh, looks like things are about to get interesting. He gently slid Entropy into his pocket, patting the little lump the alicorn made in his robes. Any further conversation was lost to his ears, as the tunnel finally opened up, and he and the guard emerged onto a high stone ledge observing a mighty pit. Diamond dogs of every shape and size shuffled to and fro through small tunnels carved through the rock, or between crude rubble huts. Crystals and gems studded the walls, though the huge pile at the very center of the room gave Echo the feeling he'd arrived at the right place.

One of the diamond dogs noticed their arrival, waving a paw at the guard and Echo... and then realizing there was a stranger in their midst. It whispered to a neighbor, and suddenly word was spreading like wildfire. The bustle and hustle slowed down as the pair jumped from the sheer rock face and slid on their paws to the bottom of the pit. Echo stood to his full height, drawing his robes about him and ensuring the hood was thrown up for maximum effect. He noticed that he was easily half-a-head taller than most of the dogs now staring at him.

One of these broke through the murmuring crowd, a mangy-looking male with torn ears and a huge lower jaw. "Hey! Hey you!" He pointed a stubby paw at the guard to Echo's side. "What you think you doing! Who you bring here!?"

The right guard had a dopey smile upon his face. "This Echo. He nice. He say he want to join Dust Devils, so I bring him here."

"No!" The newcomer shrieked. "Why you so dumb! Nobody new comes in! That's what Alpha say, right?"

"East," said the right guard, who suddenly frowned, as if rethinking his life choices.

Echo sighed, then nudged him. Is this your Beta? At the pensive nod (poor sod was so lost in thought wouldn't even find him in Narnia) Echo stepped forward, paws outstretched. It was probably a good idea to make sure he made clear no harm was intended to any dog in this pack.

...But before he could approach the rival Beta, something pale and colorful zipped back up his nose.

Echo halted.

He twitched.

His eyes pulsed every color of the rainbow, then settled on pink.

His muscles shivered under his skin, locking up stiff as a board.

He tried to relax, to loosen himself up, but found that nothing was responding. His fingers, his toes, his ears all remained perfectly still.

He couldn't even blink.

I can't move... what's going on? Entropy, is this you!?

An agonizing wrench of pressure inside his head. Something physical wrestled his will aside, straddling the cockpit of his brain and taking hold of the controls. There were no other alien thoughts, just the sense of something piloting him like some kind of furry Gundam suit.

And then movement returned, but it wasn't his own.

"GOOD EVENING SAN DIEGO! HOW YA FEELIN' TONIGHT!?"

Oh, God. That was his voice. His old voice. And it was coming from his throat! His body moved of its own accord, settling into a long-swaggering step, staff now held out like a sword. An incredibly faux accent broke through. "My name is Jackie Legs, and I'd like to say--"

A blur of motion. He was leering over the Beta.

"--'allo."

The Beta stumbled backwards a few steps, before recovering. "What is meaning of this!?" he snarled. "I am White Fang of the Dust Devils, and I do not like being messed with!"

"Shut your unoriginal mouth, name-stealing dickcheese!" Echo's mouth twisted up into a demented smile. "I said a hip, hop, the hippie, the hippie to the hip hip hoppa ya don't stop the rockin' the bang-bang boogie said up jumps the boogie to the rythym of the boogie the beat."

"...What!?"

Echo could only watch, horrified, as his staff flashed out, ramming into White Fang's chest. The breath left the rival Beta's body in a loud whuff and the crack of ribs as he doubled over. Echo's body twisted violently, and the staff followed, the opposite end snarling around and uppercutting on a solid slab of wheezing diamond dog jaw with enough force for White Fang to take a good, long look at the ceiling. Before he could recover, Echo's body had already spun around to the side, his staff kicking the Beta's legs out from under him and and then brutally slamming him head-first into the ground.

White Fang had about three seconds to take this all in, before time caught up with him as a huge, rusty brown rear paw settled on his throat. The two outside claws extended out, sinking into the rock, and the third hovered a fraction of an inch from his heaving neck. Now in genuine confusion, he said, "...What?"

"Say 'what' again!"

"Wh-"

The pressing leg raised itself up, before dropping again like the hammer of Thor. White Fang was curb-stomped so hard his head actually dug a crater into the solid stone.

The crowd collectively let out a wince of sympathy.

Jesus Christ, the hell is going on!?

A cry of outrage came from somewhere behind the mass of onlookers. They scattered like leaves as a sand-colored storm tore through, coming to a halt by White Fang's crumpled body. It was a female diamond dog, golden yellow and brown, but spotted here and there across her short coat. A bandanna hung across her throat and a heavily-pocketed vest bristled with the hilts of throwing knives.

I know who that is... Echo realized in growing panic.

This was the Dust Devil's Alpha, the equivalent of Ginger Snap. This was Shazza, and he had read about her from wanted posters and criminal biographies across Equestria for months now. All the true packs had to have a truly hard-boiled Alpha to survive the long, treacherous climb to the top of diamond dog hierarchy. Shazza was known for her fondness of talk, though, so Echo had originally planned on winning leadership in some kind of verbal debate...

That probably wasn't going to happen now that Entropy was at the helm.

She whirled and focused on the only thing in the room not openly cowering at her. "You have defeated my Beta in open combat. You are an outsider to my pack, but you have now earned the right to be put back in your proper position."

"Kinky," Echo's body leered. "You the bitch in charge here?"

Shazza paused, eyes wide, then crouched, all hackles raised. "Yes."

"I'm gonna deck ya in the schnozz!" Beyond all rational thought, Echo found himself behind the driving end of a serious haymaker.

Shazza ducked right under it, and seized his over-extended arm. Before she could do anything, he closed futher, wrapping a free paw around her and squeezing her tight against him. "Is this the part where we make out?"

She screeched and sank her teeth into his shoulder.

"Ouch! Bad kitty! Don't make me get the squirt bottle!"

She twisted like a snake, and headbutted him in the nose. Echo winced internally, he felt his nose break as if through a muted veil. It still hurt, though.

But Entropy was made of sterner stuff, apparently, because he just grinned through a trickle of blood and headbutted her right back, so hard she flew back several feet, clutching her skull and whimpering in pain.

"Do you know what you are?" he cried over the sound of catcalling diamond dogs. "You're not even important! You're a stepping stone on the path of progress, and the only reason you have any significance whatsoever is to prelude the start of a montage of similar acts! I call that filler content if anything."

"S-stop... stop talking!" Shazza hissed, ripping a fistful of knives free and hurling them at him.

"YOU! ARE! A! TOOOOOY!" Every syllable was punctuated as the staff blurred like a propeller blade, slapping every knife out of the air with utter precision. They clattered to the floor around him. "You aren't even worth dignifying with a backstory, you don't even rate as an antagonist! You are a deity's plaything!"

He hurled the staff like a javelin, and it struck her between the eyes like a thunderbolt.

Shazza crumpled to the ground as the staff fell to ground beside her.

There was absolute silence.

Entropy breathed heavily. "And I... am tired. Of being a plaything."

Echo had done it. He'd defeated the Alpha. The Dust Devils were his. He was an Alpha... technically. Even if the methods used to rise to power were rather unsettling. "Oi!" A bandaged paw swept around at the diamond dogs. "You lot. Go outside. There's a golden dragon nearby. Tell her Echo sent you, and that you need to go to Ginger, ay-es-ay-pee."

The silence continued.

"WELL!?!?"

There was a stampede as the hundreds of Dust Devils scrambled into action, apparently just now coming to terms with the fact that their leadership had been taken down within five minutes by a complete stranger. They poured up and out of the vast pit and into the tunnels, making for the surface.

Alright... Entropy, get out so we can hold up your part of the bargain, now.

"Yeah. How about no." The body that formerly did the bidding of Echo finally acknowledged him. "See, this ain't gonna be pretty, and I'm gonna need some other magic to rip yours right out of you."

Other...? Entropy, what are you doing?

"I told you, Echo. I'm becoming significant. And I'm doing it for you."

The bandaged paws suddenly flashed with pink fire, and Entropy brought them together.

There was a flash of light and noise, and Echo suddenly found himself in a place he knew. He was still underground, but the huge crystalline tree before him was unmistakable. Neither was the dark blue alicorn lying unconscious on the floor before him. The three other ponies lying there with her were unknown to him, though.

The Tree of Harmony. They were under Everfree Castle... hundreds of miles away. With an unconscious Princess Luna and three others. Echo took a moment to take this all in.

Of all the contrived, shark-jumping bullshit...

A serpentine shape slithered out from around the tree. Tall and thin, with a lobster claw and polar bear paw, draconic face grinning joyfully in the arcane gloom. "Figured it out, yet?" asked Disarray.

No?

"Good," said Echo's body, "then this will be a surprise."

Step by step, they approached the fabled Tree of Harmony. It trembled and thrummed as they came closer. Upon the trunk, the marks of the Sun, Moon, and Magic were etched and pulsing. They seemed frightened. Of what, Echo was not entirely sure. He could only watch and be afraid of what he guessed came next.

Entropy reached out to touch it. The bandaged paw hovered an inch over the surface.

"For what it's worth, you've always been my best friend, Fluffy. Thank you."

With that, the paw came down, everything turned hot and white and unbearably loud.

There was no warning. If there had been, she still wouldn't have been ready. Daring abruptly keeled over, almost landing in the fire pit. Her entire body felt like it was ripping itself apart. Her limbs spasmed uncontrollably, kicking up dust and sand and pebbles as she soundless shrieked into the night air. "Gghkk-k-k-ct!"

Through a haze of flashing colors, she could see Pyrite looming over her. "Daring? Daring Do? What is going on?"

"Hccchhkk-eeellp meeee~!" Daring screamed through clenched teeth.

It was indescribably the worst pain she had ever felt in her life. Was this equivalent to birth? She hoped not.

Over the hot needles and seizures, she could feel draconian claws hovering over her body. "There is some kind of magic pulling at you. Something is blocking it... like some kind of anchor. I can manipulate the field matrix with my own magic and--"

"DON'T CARE JUST D-DO IT MAKE IT STOP!" she managed to cry out.

"It might tear your essence."

"Might!?"

"Proceed anyway?"

Daring hesitated only a spilt second before nodding. Anything to make the pain stop...

Pyrite's empty eyes began to glow pale white. A powerful hum split the air. Her claws sparkled, and the many gems that were embedded into her golden hide flashed with color.

There was a flash of lightning that arced across her vision, and then---

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagghhh!"

She flew forward, bedsheets fluttering away like fleeing spirits. She clutched at herself, half sobbing, half shivering from the sudden, incredible cold and sweat drenching her body.

She didn't recognize this place. It was dark, a window with blinds over on the wall.

Something moved in bed next to her. She glanced down and...

...and...

...a scruffy brown palomino stallion was staring back at her through grey eyes with a matching expression of bewilderment. Cream-colored fur ran from the underside of his neck all the way across his belly.

"Daring?" he finally said. "Is that you?"

Echo. That voice. She reached out for him. "Course it's me..."

She froze.

That was not her hoof. Tanned skin, delicate fingers, and lean muscle traced themselves back towards her body. Her fur was gone. She could see where once her snout blocked her view. Two strange, soft protrusions hung from her chest. With the bedsheets thrown away, she could see her legs, smooth skinned and awkwardly bent. She could still feel her heat hammering deep within, though.

She was... she was like him... from the dream...

"Are we asleep? What happened?" she murmured.

"I don't think so. I have a feeling..." said the pony-Echo. "I... this is my room. From before."

"From..."

"Before I came to Equestria. I lived here. This is my bed, this is my apartment... this is..." he trailed off. Unsteadily, he rolled over, tumbling off the edge of the bed and raising himself up on four shaggy hooves. Daring watched with wide eyes as he shuffled step by step to the window and nosed the blinds apart.

He gasped.

"Daring. I don't think we're in Equestria any more..."

Achievement Unlocked! - "I CAN CLIFFHANGER AND SO CAN YOU"
Unique Condition Unlocked - Echo and Daring
All Levels Redacted - ...

- All Perks Redacted - ...
Region Discovered: Earth

[III - Prologue] "On Cinder Wings, We Rise."

View Online

PART THE THIRD, PROLOGUE

"You absolute son of a bitch."

So close.

So far.

"Do you have any idea how much time I've wasted* hunting you down?"

Scrape. Sparks. Cold metal.

"Literally to the end of the bucking world in a Hell frozen over..."

The end was right there. Five more steps. His mind willed it, but his broken limbs refused.

Five more steps, and freedom. Sweet blessed freedom. From the life of squalor. From the dragon.

From her.

"...Convoluted. Senseless. Shit-for-brains. Arrogant. Spineless. Half-baked..."

There'd been the plan. The glorious moment of realization. Why bow down to another? There'd been so many in his life. He was tired of it. They should bow to him. It'd been easy once he found the dragon. Steal the dumb cart and the dumb ponies. Get free ride to Roam. Trick dragon. Sell off the slaves. Win Arena.

Win freedom.

And then she showed up.

"...Idiotic! Poorly planned! Cowardly! Backstabbing! Mental..!"

Running. Ever upward. Boxer had been there. She'd been the first to go, tumbling from a burning bridge to the darkness. Luther next, gored by the vile wenchdog who refused to join. He'd left one of the prisoners out as a message. Don't chase me. It hadn't worked.

She caught up.

And now; torn, crippled, and bleeding, Balto could only gaze at the end of the path -- a mere five steps away from where his battered carcass was skewered into the ice.

"...AND TO TOP IT OFF, THE GODDESS-DAMMED ZEBRAS WEREN'T EVEN HERE!"

A wild green glow flickered at the edge of his fading vision, wrenching his body up by the neck. Twin pools of emerald fury burned his soul. He never hated the color more than at that very instant.

His enemy's raging snarl faded into a twisted sneer. "Heh... heheee... y'know, despite everything, I'm actually kind of happy this happened. Wanna know why?"

Of course he didn't. But he couldn't even find the strength to bare his teeth, what little remained of them.

"'Cuz today, I've reached my limit. I could not possibly get any more TICKED THE BUCK OFF than I am at this instant. There's literally nothing more in the world that could infuriate me more than you, and, and... you're no longer a problem any more! This is like therapy! Ya get it!?" Snickering. "This is what happens when you push me to the edge! Ha! Heheheheeee!"

A pause. A dreadful, menacing pause.

"I. AM. SICK. OF. DIAMOND. DOGS."

Thwak! Thwak! Thwak! Thwak! THWAK! THWAK!

"What do you mean we aren't in Equestria anymore!? Echo, you don't just drop something like that and then let it hang."

The sparse apartment was lit only by the slashes of light from beyond the blinds, through which a tall earth pony peered. He flicked an ear in the direction of the olive-skinned woman currently sitting up in bed. "I mean exactly what I said. We've been transported from one place to another." He paused, lips pursed in thought. "Though I'm not entirely sure why you came along for the ride; I was the only one with Disarray when he did it."

"Disarray did this?" the woman muttered, holding a slender hand up to see. "I'm... like you used to be." She lifted the blankets. "What are these things on my chest?"

"By my guess, a light C-cup." Echo turned from the window. "Welcome to humanhood, Daring."

"Human," Daring murmured, giving herself a full inspection. She appeared for all intents and purposes a lithe woman of average height, somewhere in her mid-thirties. Her hair was black, with tints of silver that would have seemed dyed and gauche with anyone else. Her eyes remained a bright and piercing magenta, though, something Echo found somewhat unnerving.

"So... are we in your world now? Where you originally came from?" she asked.

Echo hesitated. "Well, sort of."

Daring raised an eyebrow. He appreciated how quick her motor control was coming along.

"After looking out the window, I can determine that we are not back in my human world. There are... notable differences. I just saw a man outside with blue skin. Blue! Instead of going back to where I came from, which I assume was Disarray's intent, I hypothesize we ended up at a halfway point due to... unforeseen baggage."

Daring blinked, glanced back down at herself, then back to him. "You mean me."

"I do." Echo nodded. "We're bound by something deeper, and I think that caused you to come along for the ride, and ultimately skew the final destination."

Daring tossed the covers aside, revealing herself in entirety. She wore no clothing. Echo's gaze unfocused for a moment as he watched her swing her long, bronzed legs over the side of the bed. The woman attempted to push herself up, wobbling on two unsteady legs, before sitting back down on the mattress. She huffed in frustration.

"Alright, so if we're in some weird pit stop between Equestria and..."

"Earth," he prompted.

"Right, that. Then where are we, and how do we get back?"

Echo held up a hoof.

"I know exactly where we are. And I know of someone here who knows how to return..." He began trotting around the apartment, disappearing through the bedroom doorway and into the spaces behind. Daring could hear the noise of clanking and rustling. She tried to rise again, but ultimately stumbled to her hands and knees. Grumbling, she crawled as best she could into a sparsely furnished living room.

Echo was busy rooting around in a closet. He mouthed out a simple green zip-up hoodie, tossing it about his shoulders and stepping through the sleeves. "There, that feels better," he remarked, then paused, before digging a hoof through a pocket. He pulled out a strange looking set of keys, grinning.

"Echo," Daring warned.

He only grinned wider. "Babe, we're going for a drive. I'll help you get dressed."

"Echoooooooooo. What's going on?"

"We're going to find the only person here who knows how to get home."

"Who!?"

"Just a friend." He paused. "We're probably going to need to teach you how to walk first."

Daring sat back and crossed her arms. "Who."

He smirked. "We need---"

Lady Pyrite observed the large congregation of diamond dogs seated before her. They numbered nearly a hundred strong. An unruly lot, but apparently obedient when it mattered. Though, Divines preserve her, they stank like they'd never even heard of a bath.

She blinked at the crowd.

They stared back. One of them scratched an ear.

"Ssssssso..." she began.

"Play!?"

"Who has ball! I heard ball!"

Crash!

"Leggo tail!"

"Raraaghghghghgh!"

"Eat the babies, eat all the babies."

"Gems!"

"Who hiding the ball!?"

Lady Pyrite sat and watched, one eye twitching dangerously. She abruptly sat up. "Nope!" Inhaling deeply, she let out a mighty torrent of dragonflame that arced over the entire crowd. There were screams of shock and surprise, and when the flames cleared, not a trace of them remained, not even a scorch in the desert sands.

The dragoness settled back down, chuckling.

"Her problem now."

Ginger Snap stood poised for victory.

The traitorous diamond dog, Balto, lay sprawled before her on the ice. The Shagwagon sat farther behind her, reclaimed in her name. Coconut, Chance, Spot, and Shadow had been freed from their iron prison, and were busy rubbing their formerly manacled wrists with the help of Zanza and Vixen. Farther behind them, the last bridge before the exit to the Arena of Roam draped in two halves, bisected cleanly down the middle by an incineration spell.

"I'll ask you one last time, and if you don't answer me, they'll hear your screams all the way down to the bottom of the pit." Ginger thrust her face into his, her swordpoint nicking at his throat. "Where. Are. Her. Parents."

Balto peered up at her through half-shut eyes from the center of a bloodied face.

He spat.

Ginger flinched, wiping off the gooey string of saliva. She frowned, before reaching up with a hoof and lowering a set of welding goggles into place.

"You asked for it."

The sword ignited with emerald flames.

Lyra Heartstrings was having a bad day.

As she clung limply to the strong neck of the Knight-Commander, she could only wonder how things had gone so wrong.

...Oh, right. Mercenaries wrecked our ship, kidnapped three alicorns and a former Captain of the Guard, and almost exploded me.

The Legend of Echo the Diamond Dog

by Rust

[I - Prologue] Pushing Up Daisies

[I - First] In the Nick of Time

[I - Second] It Takes Two to Tango

[I - Third] Hot Flash

[I - Fourth] Mares In Black

[I - Fifth] Natural Selection

[I - Sixth] The Calm Before the Firestorm

[I - Seventh] Thunder Down Under

[II - Prologue] "Don't make me regret this, Disarray..."

[II - First] Upon the Business of Resurrection

[II - Second] Mangy Mongrel Mutts Mutiny Most Maximally

[II - Third] The Fire Down Below

[II - Fourth] Winter Is Coming

[II - Fifth] Up All Night

[II - Sixth] Face to Face

[II - Seventh] From the Ashes Descends a Phoenix

[II - Eighth] Be Honest

[II - Ninth] There's Gold In Them Hells

[II - Ten] Chicken Nuggets

[II - Eleventh] Because Love Conquers All

[III - Prologue] "On Cinder Wings, We Rise."