To save Rarity, Twilight and her friends must follow her to a war-torn world struggling to survive an eternal winter night, where Hearth's Warming never happened.
From Equestria to a world where unicorns are hunted and killed, Rarity's friends rush to her aid, only to find themselves quickly enmeshed in a great war. It is a world where Equestria fell apart in its early days, Hearth's Warming never happened, and an eternal winter night blankets the land under a permanent sheet of ice.
The Order of the Hatten Vanguard vindictively hunts unicorns and rules its citizens with an iron hoof. They claim that their ruthless tyranny is necessary for the survival of ponykind against the cold, and that only the extermination of all the unicorns will starve the winter of the magic that fuels it, and they may be right.
The Ceruleans claim The Order must fall, that its cruel reign is what brings the winter.
Both sides are willing to fight to the bitter end to bring the summer sun.
The world is a tapestry of the lives and deaths of heroes and villains on both sides, of leaders struggling to know what course will bring their dawn, of powerful secret societies with mysterious and ambitious goals, and where unthinkable new technology threatens to change the world forever. It is a world in turmoil, and a world in need of heroes of every kind.
Almost a thousand years ago in another world, up in the Canterlot mountains, no gleaming city sat in the night. Instead sat a snowy town amid the sharp cold, under an eternally gray sky. Further towards the peak, a small cabin sat, the smoke from its chimney rising, only to turn down and spill into the valley. Inside, a pale-green unicorn began to write.
Oh, my dear friend, you would not believe what these eyes have seen! The world was once more full of beauty and wonder than you could imagine. Artists have painted, poets have sang, and yet none have truly captured the beauty and awe of the glory of dawn, nor the quiet and peace of night.
I am afraid a million artists may paint, a million poets may write, a million symphonies may play, and a million choirs may sing, but nothing can ever capture the wonder of the world I have known and that you may never know, if you do not fight to return to it. It is not fought for with sword and spear, but with hope and heart, kindness and compassion, trust and friendship.
I and every co-signer that shall sign this text will attest to its truth, that there is no greater endeavor on which you may embark, than to bring back the summer, and once again let the world know day.
She stopped for a moment, carefully considering of what she had seen, what would remain in the centuries to come, and what she would have to teach. She resumed writing,
The Sunstones have never existed before. Long before you were born, the world was warm, and though for some times it would go through a period of cold, it would become warm again. This was known as summer and winter, these passing some two or three score times in a pony's life. But The Great Winter had come, and so Star Swirl brought us a gift – the Sunstones.
These stones were named after The Sun, which they radiate like unto. We do not know how he produced them, and he claimed to have received them as a gift. From whom he wast endowed them, he does not say, only that it will be many eons until we have unlocked the secrets of how they are made.
The Sun shone as the Sunstones, but sat in the heavens for all the world to see and feel, to melt all the ice and snow in spring, and bring life, beautiful and lush across the face of the earth. For two thousand scores of seconds it rose in the sky then fell, a day, only to set behind the horizon and hide its face for as long again, a night, leaving the world dark, but still warm from its gift. The night sang with life, the chirping of crickets like a shrill, trilling lute, singing the world to sleep, before again rising on the horizon amid crimson glory that washed the sky.
Under this glory, we all knew peace, we all knew kindness. Mass bloodshed was but a horror of imagination, a nightmare we could scarce conceive - nay, a nightmare we had not even imagined! There was a time when there were tribes of unicorn, earth pony, and pegasi, and we beat back the Windigos with our friendship. We joined in song. The warmth in our hearts melted the snow – it was this that defeated the Windigos -
a teardrop fell on the page. She paused, only to realize it fell from her own cheek. She sniffed, wiped her face, and closed her eyes for a long moment. She turned to her window, and the small town glowing below, the hard-earned discoveries of magic keeping it alive with great fields of crystalline lanterns. A small crack of a smile appeared on her cheeks, and she set back to the paper,
and it is with it you may defeat them again. I know it is possible. I have done it myself! And together we have survived the great winter. We have found a way to defeat the undefeatable darkness, and so will you.
Others have brought war, death, and horror to this world. But you shall not be among them.
She paused again. She could remember the messenger's terrible words. He had worn a uniform from another dome. She could still hear the exact tone of his voice, the trickling stream nearby, and feel the grass under her hooves – she remembered every detail of when he said it – how he fought the weakness in his voice and tried to show strength even as he shook “They showed no mercy. They killed every last one. I – I have never seen so much death! So much blood drenching a field so littered with bodies! They killed them just for living, even children and mares! They know no mercy – they truly believe we're responsible for everything that's happened and they won't forgive us! We must fight!”
I used to wonder if we could only sue for peace. I wish I still could hope for it. She shuddered as she saw again in her mind, the icy fields of burned and mutilated corpses, still smoldering with magical fire, and the endless armies still charging down over their fallen comrades.
If only I still could... Others stayed behind to beg for mercy. She had wanted to join them, but was needed to help organize the evacuation. So she had to see what had become of them. Countless bodies hanged from those trees – mares, colts, fillies, and even foals, and many more littered the ground, unburied. What the messenger had said was true.
It still stabbed her chest. But defiance won out. It may pain me that they died, and I lived, but I owe it to them to continue living. It is my duty.
Spite flared in her heart, but she quickly turned it to defiance. No, I don't live because I hate those – those ponies. I live not to spite them, but to spite the darkness that lied to them, and the darkness within them...
She returned to her paper again,
Though at times, you may be called to defend the lives of your wives, sons and daughters, do not be afraid. You are their shield against the darkness. When they bring steel, do not hesitate to meet blade with blade. Do all you can, that perhaps you may prevent the horrors these eyes have seen! But if they spill blood, you are a coward to shrink from meeting blade with blade.
Sickening threats spoken by angered unicorns echoed in her head, and endless battles that had followed; the wars on the trek to Bastion mountain.
But please, dear reader. That is it, blade on blade. Never blade on neck, or blade on begging hoof. When their lines are broken, when they bid for peace, you are but a monster worse than they if you deny them.
Though the fire of friendship brings warmth against the cold, the fire of fury burns you and they alike, until there are none left but poisoned ashes. Your corpses will all freeze together if you let hate consume you, even for the hateful. The endless cycle of blood for blood will never be broken, and the world will go silent of life if you cannot forgive even the most heinous of crimes – though not making yourself vulnerable to them.
This world will need light. The light of dawn is real and tangible, as is the warmth of summer – yet they will come only from the warmth of heart, and the light of your soul, which are known to spirit only. As the heart is the birthplace of action of the hoof, so will the heart be the birthplace of dawn before the hoof feels warm grass upon the Earth again.
Carry your light, dear friend, do not let it go out. Do not let your spirit shrink in fatigue. Do not let hatred and darkness consume it or you will be as lost as the thing you hate, entertain no hate at all. Strike not in anger, but in defense. Only then can dawn come. Only then will you see the sun rise once more.
A hymn came to her. A song from a forgotten era, sung by all the tribes together in peace and harmony, before friendship was forgotten to fury. The Heart Carol. She wiped her eyes again.
It is possible, reader, it is possible. I have seen it. I have felt the fire of friendship set our world ablaze with warmth and life! Perhaps you will believe it is impossible, but it is not!
Many have been hardened by these horrors, and yet others have been softened, but none are untouched. You will live in a different world than the one we leave behind. But never forget, as the Sunstones shine, so may the sun. As the sun shone, so may our hearts. They alone can end the winter. I have seen it! It was done before, and it may be done again.
When the fire of friendship lives in your hearts, it will melt the snow. The Old Princess of the Sun will return and reign in peace and harmony, and your song will banish the Windigos, and set free her strength to bring the dawn once more. So attests every co-signer here.
No weapon can defeat them and bring the dawn and the summer, only the fire of friendship.
- Clover the Clever
Across frozen peaks and canyons, iced lakes and frozen rivers, another unicorn walked into a secluded corner deep within a cave. Most of her body was hidden under a navy blue cloak, fringed with a lighter blue. Her fur was a deep purple, her mane an even darker purple still. Only her magic provided a dim glow as she walked into the darkness, dragging her hooves, her shoulders low.
She sat down, and gingerly pulled a scroll, ink and quill from her saddlebags, setting them in front of her. She bowed her head. After several long moments, she looked back up, took the quill in her hoof, held the parchment in her magic, and began to write.
Lionheart, I am so sorry. I still struggle to forgive you for leaving us, yet you did not deserve what they did to you – but neither did we. This magic we have discovered will allow us to live forever, and perhaps one day, shall an alicorn fortune us, allow you to live once more. I am the only unicorn left among our kin, and so it has fallen on me to protect them.
Oh, Lionheart, Lionheart! How I loved you as a sister! Your embrace once more, I cry for and dream of. I do not give up on hope that one day I shall know your embrace again, and though your voice be lost forever, the words will still be yours–
She shook, her breath quick and broken,
even if I have to rend heaven and Earth and twist this cruel world to oblivion, nothing will stop me, nothing will deny me the power to be with you once more. Immortality! Surely the power of the alicorn spell Luna gifted you with is within our grasp! Surely! But until then, Lionheart, I wish only that I can look you in the eye once more on the day of our reunion, beloved sister.
She calmed her breathing, but couldn’t stop her shaking.
For your sake, I will forgive them. No, I am sorry to write a lie – I cannot – not now, at least. Perhaps one day I will. But until then, I will restrain myself, out of respect for you. I will not break this vow, whatever they may do.
Yet, I am afraid I cannot hide away with the rest of The Children. As I am the last unicorn of our kin, the solemn duty falls on me to protect them. Not just of seniority as their leader, but because I possess the gift of direct power over magic. I will lead them in peace and love as you wanted, but I must be their guardian and protector as you were, yet I will not make the mistake you did – we needed you, and you left us! I will not value the world above, when weighed against this world we build beneath.
I will slay them if needed – every last one in direct defense of The Children, but here, to you, since one day in my immortality you shall certainly return, I make another promise, the only other promise I shall ever make. You made a promise to protect us, to love us, to guide us – yet they broke that promise, yet my promise shall never be broken.
Her quill floated over the paper, shaking so violently it nearly marked the scroll. “A century? A millenia? If I don't do this now...” her voice shook. “My only defense against eternity – I – I must. I must!”
She frantically wrote.
Before you return, I will forgive you, I will forgive them, and when you return, I will look you in the eye, and tell you I kept my promise to forgive them, and I will tell you I forgive you, and we will embrace. That is my promise.
Signed, Jeweled Veil.
She simply sat, looking at what she had just written, knowing she had nowhere to send it to, and wouldn’t, possibly for centuries, yet her life was now committed to it. She looked down at her shaking hooves. She dropped the quill and threw her head into her hooves.
Her sobs echoed through the cave's dark corridors.
A thousand years later, and in a world where Equestria still reigned, crickets filled the warm night air with life. Their rhythmic chorus was interrupted only by the hooting of distant owls and the gentle, periodic billows of warm breeze.
Twilight traveled through a lush field, tall grass reaching almost to her winged shoulders as she walked next to Rarity. The horizon was rimmed by thick forests, with the gentle glow of Ponyville to the east. The clear sky sparkled with a million glistening diamonds of light, and a faint, glowing milky river of yellow.
Her heart pounded and she constantly thought of what she'd say, only to find her thoughts became a confused mess of trying to explain something so profound that words were inadequate, then starting over. But it was too important to not say.
Sure, the world will go on just fine no matter what I say here, but... She bowed her head. That's just it. The world will go on no matter what I say.
“Is this where we're going? We're quite far off the, uhm... developed path,” Rarity commented.
Twilight looked around. At this point the glow of town was below the horizon. She nodded, “this will do.”
“So what is it you wanted to talk to me about? All the way out here?” she asked, uncertainty edging in her voice.
“Well... It's just...” Twilight started hesitantly as they both sat down, looking down at the town with its gleaming crystal castle. “We've spent all day just exploring the place, and you've been taking all kinds of notes and inspiration for your designs from the new castle -”
“Oh, yes, it's absolutely marvelous!”
You've only said as much about a dozen dozen times.
Rarity continued, “And thank you yet again for letting me come out – it's such an inspiration! An achievement – a beautiful work of fine art! It's amazing! And so well-deserved, I should say, too, defeating Tirek and all.”
“Well that's just the thing...” the new princess started again, “The new castle is just a reminder. The Golden Oaks is gone, now, and... I've just found out I'm going to live a very long time. Thousands of years, maybe. And in just a few years I moved from Canterlot, made you and the rest of the Elements as friends, lost the Golden Oaks, and my entire life has been under twenty years long. But thousands..."
Twilight looked at the town glowing below. "If this is how much the town has changed in just a few years -” she pointed at her new castle amid the thatched roofs, “-then what will it look like a thousand years from now? Or five thousand? Ten?”
She looked to Rarity, her ears flopping down, “How can I find meaning in any of this? The castle may be beautiful, but... It's not going to last forever. Everything I know and love will come and go many, many times. And the whole thing just has me thinking of mortality, as well. Golden Oaks wasn't destroyed – Golden Oaks died. The Golden Oaks was alive – sometimes it felt as though it sang with the legends of all who had lived in it before - it was ALIVE! - the glorious creation of a family line of wizards and artists, the life work of Oak Blossom, completed by her daughter, only a century ago. And now...
"It's gone.
"So what was all of that for? To just be wiped out in an instant? All those lives and legends - unique journals it housed... now gone forever, as though they'd never even lived, with nothing but some rough drafts of only what I could remember of them left. And yet that just reminded me how so many other ponies never even had journals in the first place for me to make rough copies of. All lost in that instant from one stupid blast from Tirek that could've gone anywhere else...”
She looked up to the stars, continuing, “And everyone I love is going to die, just like the Golden Oak. How can I find meaning in life for centuries after I've buried everyone I know and love dozens of times over? I could write biographies of you and the others, but not of everyone. Not forever. And even those biographies won’t last forever. And someday even I will join all of you. I don't want to cease existing – but the alternative is literally infinitely more overwhelming than living ten thousand years – living forever in an afterlife? What will make life worth living, then?”
Rarity turned to her. “Well, you've got a lot longer to figure that out than any of us, dear,” she commented with a subtle hint of envious annoyance.
Twilight met her eyes, “Well, I'm not ungrateful for the longevity. It just... brings a lot of issues to mind that most ponies never bother worrying about."
The alicorn again faced the glowing town below. "Most ponies have their lives and their life plans and that's it. But all of my life plans I had and the very way I think of and see myself is entirely different than a year ago. And I guess I'm just wondering where to go from here. Where I'll end up. And if I do live forever... how that will be tolerable.”
She paused for a second, seeing something sad and dark in Rarity's face. She set a hoof on the shoulder of her mortal friend. “I will always remember you. All of you. Your great-great-great grandchildren will hear the stories of how great you were,” she tried cheering her up with a little smile, a twinge of regret hitting her about putting the weight of her alicorn existential dread on her unicorn friend.
Rarity snapped out of her odd look with a smile and a blush, gently taking Twilight's hoof off of her shoulder, “Now, now, I couldn't be that amazing...”
The princess cheered her friend on, “Together we've saved Equestria – about 3 or 4 times, now! They'll teach about you in schools! I'll bet Sweetie Belle will even study a chapter on you and the rest of our friends. And hey, all day you were the one telling me not to be so modest about the castle!”
She chuckled in response, twirling her mane's curls in her hoof while averting her gaze. “Oh, if you insist...” she looked back at Twilight, “but I think I see what you mean now. I can't imagine what it'd be like knowing you, Sweetie Belle, Pinkie, Applejack, Rainbow and Fluttershy would one day just be some ancient, historical figures in a textbook...”
“Well, I don't even have to imagine it,” the hint of annoyance was now in her voice. She looked back up to the stars, her tone becoming gentler. “It's weird. Even I will live a short time to pony civilization, I hope. Even I will one day be nothing more than a legend – no matter what I do. Newer atomic theories tell us even the stars themselves will one day burn out, that just – it was kind of shocking to read, but it makes sense. I can see it was inevitable, now. Nothing lasts forever.
"I guess realizing I'm going to live so long just... Brings that to the front of my mind. Everything that matters, everything I've ever known and loved... Less significant to eternity, than the meal I ate three months ago for lunch is significant to my life. And knowing that...” She looked down at the grass again.
How many life stories are buried in this field, lost to time and history? And no matter how many times I save Equestria, someday I'll join them, and it'll all be forgotten, like it never even happened... Friendship, knowledge, science, ponykind, and the stars themselves... all just as gone as the mice and gnats that died in this field.
This time she felt a hoof on her shoulder. She turned to meet Rarity's eyes again.
“I don't know the answer to all that, Twilight. But you have something to live for now, don't you? Don't you care about us, and Equestria, and learning? And Spike's going to live just as long as you, won't he?” she asked.
“Yes. I do care. But... it's just... it's becoming harder to. And yeah, me and Spike... Well, all we know is dragons can live more than two to three thousand years. Their culture is so violent we don't know if they can live longer than that or not, but if their legends are true they can live past ten. But I'm very grateful I'll have him around for a long time, either way...”
“Well, just think about that! Don't worry about the bad stuff too much or you'll always be in this dreary state of mind. You've got to live for your ambitions! Maybe my business won't last forever and my dress designs will be forgotten, but that doesn't mean they don't matter, does it?” her comforting smile was tenuous.
“No, but it means one day... they won't. And neither will Spike, even. I'm going to go to the old castle of the two sisters tomorrow, and it's just such a poignant reminder of it all. There aren't even records of how that castle is laid out anywhere, and it was the royal palace of Equestria for centuries, but everypony only seems to care about the Canterlot palace...”
“Well... the Two Sisters themselves are still around,” Rarity offered, her hold on optimism weakening.
“Yes, but like Spike, even they won't be, one day. Even they will one day be like a mouse that died in this field a thousand years ago, utterly forgotten and nothing to eternity...”
They sat in silence, Rarity looking down. Twilight looked up at the stars as the crickets chirped. A gentle breeze washed through the tall grass and over them.
Twilight's ears perked as she heard her friend sniff.
Rarity smiled, then finally spoke, her voice strong and determined yet gentle and shaking, “I love Sweetie Belle. And my parents, though I understand I'll outlive them. And I look forward to creating for the rest of my life, and even meeting some princely stallion someday to make vows with... Just this morning I woke up to the sweetest sound or Sweetie singing 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow', it was... Indescribable!”
Rarity's tone darkened, and her smile faded “But I guess you're right. What if I lived for so long that creating got old? And I'd outlive Sweetie Belle and her music and her great-grandchildren, and my own future husband and our great-great-grandchildren...”
Twilight looked down from the stars at her dejected friend.
“I'm sorry, Twilight, I really don't have an answer for you,” she admitted, her ears going limp on the sides of her head, then perking up as she continued, “surely Celestia can help you, though? Maybe she won't last forever, either, but she lives much the same way – over a thousand years and through the ages.”
“We talked about it. She said she couldn't tell me – that it was something I had to discover for myself.”
“Hmm. Well, I really hope you find out, for your sake. To be completely honest, I'd really rather just worry about the Boutique and creating than what will be left of it all in a million years,” she respectfully admitted.
“Well, I'd like an answer sooner than later...” Twilight sighed, her own ears now flopping down.
“And I...” Rarity's voice tapered off, hesitating as she carefully assembled her next words, “I'd really rather just take it one day at a time. After all, that will never change. I'll get to wake up to Sweetie's music, make some beautiful new designs, and the sun will always rise in the morning, darling.”
Twilight cracked a smile at her, friendliness in her voice, “I'm sorry if it's all so heavy, just... Even if you can't answer my question, and would rather not even ask it, it'll still help me a lot if you keep being you, ‘darling’.”
Twilight nervously shifted her weight back and forth on the royal red carpet just outside Celestia's throne room. A luminescent rainbow of tinted sunlight showered the hall from towering stained-glass windows on either side. Despite the warm light, it wasn't the sun that made her sweat.
With Celestia's order and seal, her bags had evaded any security check. Come to Canterlot at once, and do not let any pony know what you have found, Celestia had written.
Just act natural, don't be too nervous... Twilight repeated to herself, shuffling her wings. She glanced around and grinned nervously at the stone-faced guards next to the doors. She jumped when the throne room doors finally opened with a loud creak.
Spike sighed, shaking his head instead of trying to calm her yet again. He walked forward, and Twilight followed.
The massive room seemed even grander and taller than she had remembered. The stained glass records of the creation of the world, its place in the heavens and their motions, and the greatest formative acts in their world's history adorned the walls. Massive marble columns decorated with flowering potted plants towered over them on either side.
The grand throne had fountains at its base, arranged so that a never-ending flow of sparkling water trickled from one basin to another, with Celestia and Luna sitting at the head. Their solemn expressions made her tuck her tail a little further between her legs from across the enormous hall.
It was empty of the usual guards.
"Welcome, Princess Twilight Sparkle and Spike," Celestia greeted, projecting her voice to be heard across the distance. She stood up from her throne and approached them, Luna taking the cue and walking close beside. "You wrote that you found a particular book in my old castle?" she asked.
"Y-yes! We wrote you as soon as we found it since it was secretly hidden away – I'm sorry, I can keep secret about anything inside of it – my lips are sealed, after all I have clearance for the Starswirl Wing and this can’t be much worse than that, right?!" She frantically replied.
Spike responded to her overthinking with a look somewhere in-between concern and rolling his eyes.
"You're not in trouble, I'm sorry if I have falsely caused you to fear too much, or for the wrong reasons," the sun princess’s sweet, calming voice soothed. "You are one of the few ponies I would trust with this book – once you have learned of its contents – though I'm afraid you would be right to fear it... And yet, if you knew the full depth of what it holds, it would also excite you. May I see it?"
"Of course!" Twilight quickly unlocked her bag and magicked it out. The binding was as ethereal and dark as Luna's mane, glistening with distant stars and galaxies. It was extremely short. One talisman sealed the last pages, and another sealed the entire book. The talisman on the surface bore a simple insignia of Celestia and Luna's cutie marks in its ancient, black and sparkling granite surface.
Celestia took the book in her magic, and she and Luna looked over it.
"So what is it?" Spike asked.
Twilight glanced at him with fear, then shot a massively oversized grin at Celestia, unsure of how her old mentor would respond.
Celestia smiled a deep, tired, but true smile as she closed her eyes and spoke, "This is the Book of Knowledge. For within its pages is great truth that can be learned in no other way but by reading it."
The elder princess opened her eyes, her recollective smile fading to a more grim solemnity. "It will teach you far more than all the other shelves of this world, yet this book doesn't have any words written in it. It instead lets you experience things you cannot now imagine. It will open your eyes to see a world you do not now see, though you are in it. You must read it one day, Twilight, in order to fulfill your destiny, and yet I must forbid it."
Twilight cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head, growing even more nervous.
The sun-princess smiled warmly for a second. "Do not be afraid to ask. I know there must be many questions on your mind, my faithful student," she gently prompted her.
Twilight nodded, took a deep breath, and began, "Well, it's just... It's such a big deal. I don't understand what you're saying about it. So it lets me experience things directly? – but how can it be my destiny if I'm forbidden from reading it?"
"Yes, it gives you experience rather than words, and it holds secrets of untold power," Luna explained. "If ponies knew what fate it carried, they would clamor for it with armies. But if they knew what it took to 'read' it, they would bury it deep in the ocean and never sail again, for growth is always painful, and birth of a new you can only come through death of the old."
"What are you, Twilight?" Celestia continued, offering Twilight an opportunity to reflect.
"I'm your student... A young mare... A uni-alicorn. I meant alicorn!" She laughed nervously, hunching over in anxiety.
Celestia reached out and lifted Twilight's chin with her hoof, straightening her posture, looking her in the eyes. "That's right, and you're my prized pupil, and I'm very proud of how far you've come already." She gave her another small, gentle, reassuring smile.
The young mare copied the smile, her nerves relaxing at the maternal touch and reassurance.
Celestia lowered her hoof and continued in a heavier tone, "And I am an alicorn as well. Yet there's something different about us. Do you know what it is?" she gently asked.
"A bunch of paperwork," Spike replied flatly.
"Spike!" Twilight snapped.
Luna cracked a modest, amused smile.
Celestia didn't seem upset. "Yet he points in the right direction," she commented, then continued, "For years you have made friends, written me letters, done heroic and brave things for Equestria. You have taught others through word and example. You have done well, and you have done good. Yet something more remains. Just before your castle appeared, Twilight, you were feeling as though you lacked something.
“I am afraid that the truth is that you still do lack something, and you cannot have it until you read that book. Yet I must forbid you from reading that book for the evil it will do to you, and so I leave it to your choice. It is yours to read, when you feel you are ready, but know that I must forbid it. Nonetheless, it is vital to your ultimate destiny."
The night Celestia, Luna, and Cadence had comforted her came to mind. They had promised her that her time would come soon. Then she had saved the kingdom and gained a castle, but still she lacked the serenity, astral connection, and power that the two High Princesses had.
The young princess looked down at the carpet. "I-I always assumed that Discord's vines, uncovering your past... I always thought that's what you meant." She turned up to her solar mentor, more earnestly confused than sad. "That wasn't 'my time'?"
"It was, but only a small piece of it. It, like everything else in your life, was to prepare you for what lay ahead. You are now an alicorn, because you have proven yourself worthy of the challenges prepared for you, and for your true ascension. You may be an alicorn, but you are a young one, ordained for ascension, but not yet as exalted as we are. A princess, but not yet a queen.
“One challenge at a time, you have built yourself into a mare able to handle the next step in your journey. But what lies in the book is a key part that cannot be avoided, yet I cannot in good conscience ask you to take part in it., but must forbid, not by force, but by command, so you may still choose for yourself."
Her confusion only grew. Has Cadence read this yet? she couldn’t help but passingly wonder, but shelf the idea back in her mind for a more appropriate time. "But what could it be? What could I possibly read that is so awful that you'd forbid me from reading it? – or, I guess, experience, not read? But what could be so terrible but also so great? And you're giving me a choice but telling me not to?"
Luna answered solemnly, "Some things cannot be explained, but must be experienced to be understood. I am afraid we cannot do justice with words in describing what you will experience in those enchanted pages. The closest thing we can tell you, that you would understand, is that you will die."
Twilight's ears flopped down. The confusion only piled on harder, and joined with fear, straining her under its heavy weight, "D-die? But how is dying supposed to help me continue my 'journey'? This just isn't making sense!..."
"I'm sorry, Twilight, but my sister speaks the truth," Celestia replied more gently, "only if you experience the kinds of things the book offers will you ever truly understand how death can be progression, how suffering can grant you power. Now it seems to make no sense, but when you have experienced it, you will know our words are true. It is great and terrible, and for its unspeakable horrors I must forbid it. Yet for its power, and necessity to your growth, I leave the choice to be yours, to be kept in a secret place in your library."
"M-my library!?" Twilight stammered. "I – but such a book! I can't – but – " she sighed, pausing, and re-collecting herself, "If you believe that is where it should be kept, then I will keep it there," she dutifully finished.
"But what about everypony that comes through there?" Spike asked. "It's not like the Star Swirl the Bearded wing, or some locked chest in the Canterlot archives."
"Its security is yours, Twilight," Celestia asserted, then continued more gently, "I trust you to handle it. To seal it away in Canterlot would be to deny your access to it, which you need to fulfil your true being. I forbid it for the horrors it will inflict on you, but again, I leave it to your decision, so it must be in your possession. Its enchanted pages will bring upon you pains that you should dread as death, but knowledge that you cannot now comprehend, and a fulfillment you cannot yet imagine."
The younger pony timidly reached her head forward and asked, "How will I know when I'm ready?"
"You will know when it is time. It is nopony's place to decide but your own," Celestia answered.
"And what if one of my friends read it? How will I stop them? Save them? Should I even let them know I have it?" she anxiously pressed.
The eldest princess answered, "Again, its security is yours. As of now, nopony knows that it even exists. If you feel that they should know, tell them. If you feel they need protecting from this, then don't, but know also that that would mean you cannot have their help to safeguard it, either. But I also know your friends have often helped you in the past with hard decisions. And I believe you will find their help invaluable, as you have before.
"As for what to do if one of them reads it – they will be subjected to a world apart from this one, where they will experience these things. The book chooses when and where they will go, but once they vanish, words will glow on the pages. As long as the words glow, they are alive, and there is still hope to save them. But they will not last long, for the book often chooses harsh and cruel worlds. Follow while their words glow, and you will enter after them, where they did. They will need your help, comfort and guidance. Finding your way back may take time in the midst of all the great difficulty you will endure, but it will happen, so long as you seek it."
Twilight nodded. "Okay...” a tinge of fear and anxiety was audible in her voice, only to quickly disappear and be replaced with the one thing she was certain of, “It's terrifying to have something so dangerous in my library, but I trust you when you tell me it's necessary for – the next stage in my growth?” she asked.
Both of the elder princesses nodded in unison.
“Then you can count on me. I will keep it safe," she said with a final nod.
"And Twilight, one more thing, about what you said..." Celestia started.
"Yes?"
The ancient princess of the sun lunged forward, and wrapped her student in her hooves and wings. It was a strong, warm, and powerful embrace she reserved for when it mattered. "Always remember this, Twilight Sparkle. You are never forgotten. When you go, we will all eagerly await your return. The journey back must be discovered by yourself, and though your friends will help you greatly, nopony can give it to you. It is a terrifying thing, as you said, but we know you will find your way back to us when you leave. We have faith in you. We love you. Let this embrace be your lighthouse to guide you through the darkness – to guide you home."
Twilight was taken aback – the sheer depth of the horror of what lie inside the book began to dawn on her. If this is how she feels about me experiencing it...!?
Luna also approached, her love more subtle, yet just as strong. "Fear not this night, Twilight. We know you will not go astray, for though shadows fall, still the stars find their way."
"Dawn will be a heartbeat away," Celestia comforted her, "Hope, a sunrise away. The dawn will come, young princess Twilight Sparkle, it will come... When you go, we know you will endure and return to us, proud. We have faith in you."
The sun hung low over the horizon, bathing Sweet Apple Acres in amber light. The horizon was crowned with the oranges and deep blues of a late afternoon. A tired, sweaty Applejack hauled a heavy, heaping basket of apples towards a stack of crates sitting next to her barn. She dumped them inside, dropped the basket, and sat back against the barn to take a moment to rest her sore body.
"Applejack!" her ears perked as she heard a distant, familiar voice call – Twilight's.
She turned to the entrance of her hilltop property.
Spotting her, her alicorn friend cantered to her through the gate.
What does she want this time'a day? the workhorse wondered, getting on her tired hooves, approaching an open barrel of water, setting down her hat and splashing herself to clean off the worst of the sweat. She turned back towards the gate – Twilight's anxious face was right in her own, startling her.
"Woah! Oh-uh, hey, Twilight. What brings ya here this evenin'?" She reached down and grabbed her hat, putting it back on.
"Applejack – there's something I need to ask you about – something really, uh... big? Can we uh – maybe find someplace where nopony else will overhear us?" she nervously asked.
"Somethin' big you say? I suppose we could head over to the backhill. So it's really important, huh?..." As if showin' up at this hour didn't say that, her tone and face sure do. Gentle concern came over her voice, "Kinda private or somethin'?" She started walking away from her home, leading Twilight past the white fence around her barn and house, into the orchard.
"Well, I mean... That's the thing, I'm not sure if it should be private or not. I kind of want your opinion on that." She followed behind the farmpony. Though the hilltop where the Apple house and barn sat was still lit, the orchard was blanketed in shadow from all its trees, making them walk into growing darkness.
"Aiight," AJ acknowledged, then turned and yelled back at the farmhouse, "Got important friendship business, I'll be back in an bit!" she turned to face Twilight again, "they'd start gettin' concerned if I were out too late an' nopony knew why. Let's head on out -" Applejack glanced at the darkening orchard. "Oh, maybe I should head back and grab a lantern -" just as she turned, Twilight lit up her horn, casting a bright glow around them. "Oh. Uh, would a lantern be easier..."
"No, let's go. Lead on." The alicorn kept walking, passing her friend.
Applejack trotted forward a re-take the lead, slowing back to a leisure walk when she was ahead and guiding Twilight off the path and up a hill to the right. "Well, you know who you're talkin' to, right? I'm not one that's big on secrets. I mean, some things just ain't nopony's business, like, you know, some private things, but most things just ain't right to keep secret. Secrets just hurt ponies and friendships. So, uh... what kinda thing is it? And are you sure you wanna talk about it with me, sugarcube? I ain't one to sugarcoat things or tell ponies what they wanna hear or, well -"
"That's exactly why I want to talk to you," Twilight pressed, her breath getting faster as they began climbing the steep hill, "I don't want this sugarcoated. I want your honest opinion. And I've always trusted you to have kind of a... sensibility about these kinds of difficult decisions. I – I just don't know, Applejack, it's a really hard choice and it's just tearing me up inside and I want to make the right choice but so much is at stake. Spike thinks I shouldn't tell anypony, but he's so young – and the book is just there, hidden, but what if somepony stumbles on it – I could leave a note or a lock but if it's too short it might be ignored in favor of curiosity – when you really keep a secret ponies want to know even more and if I write a big long warning then what if whoever finds it just throws the warning away - " she began wheezing from ranting while climbing the steep slope, " - and the biggest thing of all is I can't protect – huff – everypony from it if they don't know what I'm doing – huff – and Celestia said all of you – my friends – have often helped me out so maybe she was hinting I should tell you – huff – but – oh I just don't know," she broke into long wheezes, suddenly slowing on the climb.
Applejack stopped, turned around and set a hoof on her friend's shoulder, "Slow down, sugarcube. It's ten times easier to climb the hill if you just breathe while ya do it. But since ya didn't we can stop for a moment for you to get your breath back," she politely explained, taking her hoof off only after the bookworm sat down.
Twilight just looked up at her, still wheezing, and gave a nod.
AJ sat in front of her, "Now, I don't know nothin' about this -" she waved a hoof in the air, "-so I don't know what you're talkin' about, to be honest. Celestia's involved? Protectin' everypony? This sounds like scary stuff. Honestly I was expectin' a different kinda 'secret' life issue but Backhill should serve just as well for this. So, explain it to me, but don't go windin' yourself this time," she got back up, waited for Twilight to stand, then led the way up the hill again.
"Well, remember that one time Rarity – or, rather, Spike found that 'Inspiration Manifestation'-cursed book, and it mind-controlled Rarity? -"
"Yep. That was sure a time and'a half..."
"-Well, I think me and Spike found something like that, but cataclysmically worse."
Applejack perked an eyebrow, glancing back, but kept walking and listening.
Twilight continued, "We were going through the Royal Sisters' old castle in the everfree and we found this book... It was secured in its own special secret chamber and protected, so I decided to write Celestia about it..." she kept pausing to breathe, "And she summoned us to Canterlot! She even gave us a pass to make sure even none of the guards found out about the book..." as she took a longer break from speaking, her down-to-earth friend piped in.
"Well what're ya doin' tellin' me? I mean, I'm no fan'a secrets, for sure, but if Princess Celestia herself told'ya not to tell... We're almost to the top'a this hill."
"Well, she told me I could... choose whether or not... to tell everypony. She told me... a lot of confusing things... about the book. That I had to read it at some point... to fulfill my destiny. That it was part of learning – that it would allow me to grow in some special way... That its knowledge was special – like if the world knew about it... they would 'clamor for it with armies', but that 'reading' it... meant going through some horrible thing, they said I couldn't comprehend the horror it would do to me... that the 'closest thing I could understand', is it would kill me... But it was necessary, for some reason, something to do with becoming an alicorn..." She looked on her back, flexing her wings.
"Speakin' of, I could'a just told you where we were goin', then you could'a flown up..."
Twilight shook her head, "No, I like walking with you. Plus, clearly I use my wings and magic so much I don't exercise my legs enough." She gave her a little friendly smile.
Applejack shot a "heheh, yeah..." and a smile back at her, then turned on ahead, breaking through a treeline. Just above was a single tree sitting on an otherwise barren peak. As they entered the clearing, the entire valley down below came into view, the orchard on one side, and the barn, house, and Ponyville on the other.
"Mighty kind'a ya. Now, to be honest, all that... I mean that just sounds like nothin' that makes sense. I mean..." she paused, carefully considering. It was the princesses sayin' all this
"...nothin' we humbler folk can make sense of, at any rate. Must be some kinda big princess thing about bein' super long-lived like they are and rulin' Equestria," she waved her hoof over the horizon, then set it down, and continued, turning back to face Twilight. "But that's kinda what you got goin', isn't it? Since you're an alicorn now an' all. But you said – it was necessary to become an alicorn – but ain't you one already?" humility tempered her confused tone.
"Well, yeah..." Twilight looked at the orange sun, halfway hidden under the horizon, slowly dipping behind distant lands. "I'm an alicorn, but I don't have the same sort of... presence as them. There's something very different about them. Maybe it's the centuries of age? The flowing manes? But that's not it either, it's deeper than that. They just have this air about them like a profound apparent serenity, this sort of majesty."
"Like somepony you really respect and admire?" Applejack suggested, finally coming to a stop next to the tree on the peak, sitting down, and patting the ground next to her.
Twilight walked up and sat down next to her while she spoke, "No, more than that... Granny Smith or any number of other ponies in Ponyville are respectable and admirable, but there's something... almost godly about the Sisters – Celestia in particular. Where does it come from? It sounded kind of like that's what they were talking about..." she mused on.
"So... what is it you were wantin' to ask me about? Whether to read it or not? I mean, ya said that they said that reading it was 'necessary', so ya gotta eventually, right?"
"Yeah..." Twilight looked away to where the sun had disappeared. "She said, since I had to read it at some point, I should keep it, and that's why I have it now. But she also forbade me from reading it because of how horrible it would be – but said I had to have that option to 'progress', and fulfill some kind of destiny. And here's what's been really bothering me, AJ... She said its security was my responsibility. Which means it's my job to make sure nopony suffers from reading that book. And I – I don't know if I should tell our friends. It would only endanger them, but at the same time, we always overcome our problems by facing them together, and if I don't tell you, I can't warn you about the books' danger... So I'm just so confused in all this, I can't decide! - so I decided to come to you for help in making this decision."
"Me?" she looked at Twilight, leaning back in surprise. "I mean, I got a reputable sorta, well, reputation, but uh... I'm not known for bein' the smartest pony in Equestria or 'nothin. Just bein'... well, hardworkin' and honest. So why'd you come to me?"
Twilight met her eyes, "well... you just 'got' this sort of down-to-earthedness -" her ears flopped as she tried to find the right words, then flipped back up "- this practicality. A sort of sensibleness. I've spun this thing in my head again and again and I just end up getting dizzy, lost and confused and I don't know what to do - I need your grounding."
"Well..." Applejack tipped her hat, turning to the sunset and leaning back, "I'm the Element of Honesty. Whatdoya think I'm gonna suggest? In my humble opinion, secrets just divide friendships, and whatever bad thing is in that book – we're all gonna need to stick together to face it. An' plus, if somepony comes across it and reads it, an' you didn't tell nopony, then it's your fault for not warnin' them. But if we've all been warned, then it's our fault for readin' it after that..." she sighed, then faced Twilight again with concerned eyes, "Look, Twi, most of all... ya need to trust yourself more.
"The princesses trusted you to decide what to do. My destiny is to farm apples, be a member of my Apple family, raise Applebloom an' my own little ponies someday, an' be best friends with you an' the others. But big, scary decisions like this... That's your destiny, not mine. I can offer my opinion, but really you need to make the decision. Your decision. An' whatever you choose... ya just gotta be okay with whatever happens. I mean, you gotta read that book sooner or later anyways, right?"
"Yeah, I just..." Twilight's gaze fell. "You should've been there. They said I'd die when I read it, and Celestia forbade me to protect me. She was comforting me the whole time and even gave me a hug. I just... I'm deciding to be obedient to her. But I don't want to die." She looked up at Applejack again, "I've got good friends, a good life, a loving family – I'm not ready and I feel scared, not like it's time. She said I'd know when the time is, and it's not now. So maybe I could read it and the danger to everypony else would be gone, but the time's not right." She looked back to the sun as it began to sink the rest of the way beneath the horizon. "And I hope it doesn't come anytime soon, either."
"I'm glad to hear that. I wanna be able to help you whatever happens. So are you gonna tell everypony?"
She narrowed her eyes, watching the sun disappear. "...no. I'd rather just... Hide the book. I don't feel ready. I'll keep it under the library. If nopony knows where it is, it's as good as non-existent, right?"
Why'd you come askin' for my advice if you're not gonna take it?... "Well, I'm glad you came to your own decision. But... Didn't the princesses say you gotta read it sooner or later? If ya got somethin’ -"
"Yes!" she yelled, then immediately threw her hooves over her mouth "- I mean, sorry, yes, they did..." her ears folded down and her gaze fell again. "I – I'm sorry, it's just, you keep reminding me and I... I don't want to die, Applejack, I'm not ready," her voice grew pitiful.
Applejack moved a little closer, then put a hoof around Twilight's shoulders to comfort her, earning a surprised look. "Look, sugarcube, I don't want that for you either, but... If'n the princesses said ya gotta read that book, then ya gotta, and puttin’ it off to later ain’t gonna change that. I don't think it's really gonna kill ya. They said it was just somethin' like that, right? I mean, when..." She paused. Her head bowed slightly.
"When pa, and then ma passed away... I would'a called that dyin', if I had to explain that to my younger self. It felt like I died inside. Like there was no reason to keep livin' anymore. I just couldn't live in Ponyville anymore – I changed my whole life around by movin' to Manehatten just 'cause I had to escape from my life. I couldn't have ever imagined how much that hurt before I experienced it, but... But since then..." she used her other hoof to lift Twilight's chin, and meet her eyes. Her own were shimmering wet.
"Since then I've learned what it's like to raise Applebloom. To become responsible. Granny Smith helped out best she could, but... losin' ma'n pa almost broke this little Apple family apart – we were mad, lonely, scared..."
She shifted around to face the farmhouse below, pointing at it while sniffing. "But now look at us. An' look at what we've become. How close we Apples are – that's no mistake. How honest'an hardworkin' we are – I mean, I don't mean to get all braggin', here, but – I got to be an Element'a Harmony! Just some random farmpony! That didn't happen on its own, sugarcube. It took some real hell for me to find out who I am, an' where I fit in this world, and become the pony that would stand shoulder'ta shoulder with you'n the others to defeat Nightmare Moon, Discord, Sombra, Tirek, an' everythin' else this world's thrown at us."
She turned back to Twilight, who in turn met her gaze again, "I guess I'm sayin' all this to say... Whatever it is the princesses got for you in that book, if'n ya gotta read it to fulfill your destiny, it's gonna be good, no matter how bad it is. If you make it that way. Now, the stuff I went through with my parents – I still miss'em, of course..." she paused for a moment "...so badly so... But we could'a just made things worse by gettin' all angry. By demandin' Celestia or Luna do some dark magic to bring'em back, or gettin' angry when they'd refuse – oh we could'a gotten so mad an' bitter an angsty...
"But instead we turned to each other and we made ourselves the warmest slice'a Apple heaven in Equestria, an' sometimes... Sometimes I feel like ma'n pa are just right here smilin' over us, so proud an'happy of what we've done, that maybe there was some purpose in those dumb accidents that took'em from us – that maybe it was Harmony's way of makin' sure our family would stay together an' happy forever... Maybe if they stuck around, we wouldn't be so happy'n together now. They would'a gladly died to keep us together like this, like they did, like we are. An' we wouldn't know what it's like to really love somepony, an' appreciate every opportunity to be best friends with our family if we didn't know what it was like to lose that opportunity..."
She sighed, bowing her head slightly. "An' you know... 'till you been through it, yourself, it probably just looks like I'm blabberin' on about nothin'..."
Twilight's ears flopped. "No, not at all – I get what you're saying –"
"No. You don't." She said sternly, then continued gently again, "Nopony can know what it's like 'till they gone through it. You can hear a pony talk about how wonderful a fresh splash'a water feels, but that don't mean nothin' to ya unless you spent hard days sweatin' your brains out in a hot, burnin' sunny field. I just... It makes so much sense if I think'a it like that. That's probably why that book is so great an' terrible. I'm sorry I got to blabberin' on so much, but... I don't think ya gotta be scared as you think you do. Just hang in there, an' you'll find, eventually, some meanin' in all'a this... I trust the Princesses. But... Do what ya gotta do. I'll do my best to keep this secret outta respect for ya. I wouldn't wish the pain I been through on nopony, 'specially not a pony good as you, Twi." She gave her friend a little squeeze with the foreleg around her shoulders.
"Oh... Okay, thanks. I – I... I know what you're saying, but I'll admit I don't understand it. I trust the princesses, too... but I just really don't feel like it's time yet - I’ll read it, but… now’s just not the time." Twilight gently said.
The sun had set, and crickets began to fill the air with their nightly chorus.
"Nopony should ever push ya into such a thing. I'm not sayin' ya gotta do it now or nothin'. Don't take me wrong, it's awful, an' it's not like we go lookin' for trouble – murder's still murder, an heaven forbid if I ever found out what happened to ma'n pa weren't accidents – so I can't go puttin' you through the same thing on purpose any more than it'd be okay for somepony to come along murderin'... so you take it at your own pace, nopony can tell ya when to read it 'cept for yourself. Just... I'm just sayin' when the time comes... Have some faith it'll turn out alright, okay, sugarcube? The princesses wouldn't give ya anythin' ya can't handle, terrible as it may be. They trusted ya with this, an' I'm sure they didn't do it without thinkin' about it."
Twilight took a moment to take in everything AJ said, then nodded. "Okay," she quietly answered her farmpony friend.
Long minutes passed with them looking down at the valley below, the breeze coming and going many times, and the dusk turning to twilight and slowly to night. The fiery orange hues of the sunset gently bowed behind the horizon, making way for the gentle, dark evening sky.
"Thank you, Applejack. It's... been a real night, and you know what?..." she turned back to her farmhorse friend, "I think I've changed my mind. What you said about the princesses trusting me..." she paused for a moment, then finally said it, "I think I trust you, and all the other elements, just like Celestia and Luna trusted me. I'll tell everypony."
Applejack found no words came to her. She pursed her lips as she thought, and just slowly nodded. After a few more seconds, the words finally came. "That's... a brave thing, Twilight. I can imagine you'd really like to just hide it away and pretend this all never happened, but... To tell ya the truth, I don't think I'd have the strength to face it, either. But I really think you're doin' the right thing. Hidin' it away is just dangerous... Thank you for trustin' us."
Twilight leaned into her. She flinched a little in surprise, but the feeling was familiar. She remembered a younger Applebloom snuggling up to her when she heard a frightening storm outside, or the Timberwolves howling at night. She put a hoof around her.
"Tomorrow morning, I'll tell you, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie what I know. Or at the very least, warn them that the princess kept the book secret and said it'd kill me if I read it, yet that I have to, and trusted me to keep it," Twilight laid out, determination meeting anxiety in her voice. "Yeah I'm afraid, but it feels like the right thing to do."
On the next day, with an anxious, racing heart as she addressed her five closest pony friends gathered in the map room, she would do exactly that.
Rarity shivered, feeling the soft, silky sheets of her bed underneath her belly, chest and right cheek, but no blankets on top of her. She could feel her little red glasses resting on her snout. Opening her eyes, she found her room dark in the middle of the night. She sat up in bed, a thick fog clearing from her mind only very slowly. Oh dear, I pulled an all-nighter yesterday on the Hearthstone... Wait, no, Hearth's Warming designs... And Sweetie Belle was yelling about... Did I miss something?
She reflexively levitated her glasses onto her nightstand, pausing her train of thought for a moment as the memories slowly emerged from the thick mist dissolving in her mind. She looked to the little calendar on her wall for help – Saturday, December 22nd.
She jumped onto her hooves on the bed with a yelp. Oh good heavens, our recital! She froze, thinking of what to do – then relaxed, flopping back onto the bed with a groan as she remembered she hadn't changed the date on the calendar. Oh, that was yesterday, it's far too late for that. The poor dear must be furious at me. She pulled the Saturday card off, a gentle blue magical glow only unicorns could see coming from it and her horn, then watched it flutter to the floor.
She looked over the rest of her room – a gentle trickle of moonlight came in her window, just enough to reveal her empty, but dirty room. Small scraps of paper, packaging, and materials scattered every horizontal surface and mannequin in sight. Empty of everything, including my own compassion, generosity, and consideration for my sister!... And wow, I’ve really made a mess of the room.
She sighed. And my relationship with Sweetie Belle.
She tugged on the plush comforter with her magic, pulling it out from under her and laying it on top of herself, relishing its embrace. Well, at least I got those orders in on time.
She remembered her decision to stay in Ponyville before she remembered she was originally planning on going with her shipment. Not even going with my designs for the Canterlot Hearth's Warming pageant! How uncouth! She sat up again, horror in her eyes. And I missed going to the duet recital with Sweetie Belle! After looking forward to it for all those months and all that practicing! She's entirely right to be FURIOUS at me! I've been absolutely awful! Just awful! I've betrayed both of the things I live for!
That I would die for!
Oh, come now, Rarity, don't be so harsh on yourself! You worked yourself to the bone for this one. You managed to complete both the orders, the ensemble for Sapphire, AND the costumes for the pageant! THE pageant! I'll be the premiere pony of the year in no time at this rate! She beamed, then the smile faded. But, I really should go check on Sweetie Belle... She was right to yell at me. If only there's some way I can make it up to her... Oh dear! We argued last night! What did I even say?... Something about work being more important!?
She recoiled as she searched in her mind and began to make out some faint memories. Sure I had been awake for... what, thirty-eight hours? But even that was no excuse for my behavior, there! Not for saying things as mean as that! On top of missing – she bit her lip, each time she said it to herself was more painful than the last. On top of missing the duet performance!
She sighed again, bowing her head. I was so mean to her because I was really mad at myself, wasn't I? Well, whatever the case may be, I must go apologize to her right now! She looked out her window. The curtains were wide-open to the night outside. If she's awake... at the very least I should check on her. I just can't believe I snapped at her like that! Didn't I learn my lesson on sisterhood from the Sisterhooves Social?
She climbed out of her bed, now painfully aware she hadn't even put on her robe, slippers, or prepared her mane for sleep. She shivered again at the cold, and her ruined bed-mane made her grit her teeth and stop in place. She shook the feeling off with a shake of her head. No, no, I'll go check on Sweetie, first. I don't even care that I was overwhelmed with stress to the point of passing out on the bed like this, I should not have treated her that way!
She quietly walked across the purple carpeting down the hall and to the door to Sweetie Belle's room, her thoughts continuing as she walked, she needs to know I love her, and she's the most important thing in the world to me! Even if I did miss our recital for my art... It was so I could continue to be successful for her!
Right?
She sighed, bowing her head as she walked down the dark hall deep in the night. No, who am I kidding? It was my fault. My friends had it covered. I could've – I should've – I had to have taken two hours off to go perform with her. She was counting on me. Oh dear, what did she even do? Did she sing solo?
She sings Over The Rainbow so well! I remember Twilight overhearing our practice and loving it! We can even sing it together at the Hearth's Warming Party! Yes, that's how I'll make it up to her! It will be her encore performance as a duet!
...If she forgives me.
She reached the filly's room, then quietly and slowly turned the knob and poked her head inside.
The room was brighter than the hall, but still so dark she struggled to make out what she saw, but definitely knew she saw a lump in Sweetie Belle's bed. Oh, it's just so cute how you bundle up under the blankets like that, Sweetie Belle... I'm sorry about whatever happened yesterday. I'm being a bad sister all over again. I'll make it up to you in the morning, I promise. But for now, sleep soundly you sweet, sweet little darling. I'll make everything right with sunrise.
She gingerly closed the door, and made her way back to her room to set her mane and go to sleep. This time, she'd go to bed properly; in pajamas suited for a Saturday night and tomorrow morning.
There was the unmistakable chirping of chickadees, and the bright light of morning shining on her eyelids. Rarity woke a second time, and with a large yawn, sat up, slid on her slippers and set herself free of her bed once more. She took a moment to walk over to her window, pull the curtains open the rest of the way and appreciate the beauty of the snowy Sunday morning in her silk pajamas. The snow was smooth, clean and fresh, only two sets of tracks in it. Even through the window and with the morning sun shining on her she still felt the nip of the cold, but it was softened by the serenity of the view and the feeling of resting after the stressful days.
The way the snow shines with a warmth of its own, almost – the icing on every house and tree. The sparkling crystals on every roof and every pond – so full of beauty and inspiration, like the heavens themselves decide to try a new style on the Earth every once in awhile. She yawned, turning to her work space. And the best time of year for a warm line of clothes and accessories – from cozy coats and soft scarves to extravagant earmuffs – she paused as she saw her open bedroom door. Oh, and something else very important I need to get to... Far more important than anything else.
She felt her messy bedmane on her head, her unkept coat and makeupless face. She again ignored the discomfort. I can be a bit ugly for a few minutes if it means catching Sweetie Belle before she heads off somewhere. Though the pegasi did put out that winter weather advisory yesterday. It's frightfully cold today...
When the weather is like this, the fireplace is so delightful. Maybe we can just stay inside today, and just read together. She can draw while I work on designs, or we can make s'mores, or practice our singing! Maybe I missed our big little performance, but maybe we can still at least sing together.
She couldn't help but smile warmly and feel a flutter of excitement, remembering the times they would simply spend together. There is one nice thing about the absolute mad dash to completion on a tight deadline – and that's the little time off after, no plans, just living in the moment, true relaxation...
But concern melted the smile away. Well, if she forgives my heinous mistake enough to even let me try to make it up to her. Maybe I don't deserve her forgiveness, but I should at least apologize, even if it won't take my mistake back...
She finally arrived at the door to Sweetie's room and knocked. After a moment of silence, she leaned in, listening for a response.
Nothing came except the distant chirping of birds outside.
“Knock knock,” Rarity chimed, knocking against the wood again.
After a minute of waiting, she asked “Sweetie, are you in there?” as she opened the door and popped her head in.
She saw the room exactly the same as it was last night – only now bathed with brilliant late-morning sunlight, and she could see clearly that the lump in the bed was only blankets. An uneasy feeling bit her as a voice gnawed at the back of her mind, that is exactly the same as the blankets were last night. She hasn't touched this bed. Did she go off somewhere last night?
She let out a small, nervous laugh, “Oh, just blankets. I'm sure last night it was her, though... Just... Happens to look exactly the same...” she closed the door and made her way downstairs, trying to quiet her anxiety. It's nothing, really, just some funny coincidence – maybe she was just out of her room for a glass of water last night. She could've gotten some water and even fallen asleep on the couch!
“Sweetie Belle!” she called, a slight chime of music in her words as she came to the bottom of the stairs. No reply came. She scanned the clothes racks of the empty boutique. Oh dear, I should check on things. She remembered how her friends helped run her store yesterday. I'm very thankful they saved my business hours, but... I'll check on things later. She continued walking, calling her sister again and again, the calls turning more from gentle chimes to demands. She checked every room from the parlor to the kitchen to the bathrooms to the laundry room. She found nothing.
Then the concern bit down a bit harder. The tracks! She trotted over to the front door, feeling an icy wall of air crash over her as she opened it. Both sets of tracks in the snow she had seen from her window led to and from here. One set was older than the other, both about the right size for Sweetie Belle, but neither looked fresh. She bit her lip.
She's not some little filly, I'm sure she dressed warm... But she's still a filly and I need to go apologize to her! As she ran inside and quickly grabbed winter clothes, another thought crossed her, maybe I could go straight to Applejack's or Mom and Dad's, but I don't know where she went, but those tracks will lead me straight to her! But on the other hoof, if I'm going out into town after her, perhaps I should spruce up a little. She approached one of the many mirrors in her boutique, looking at her bare face. After a moment of hesitation, she ran upstairs. Just a quick spruce-up! – I'm just going to be dropping by Applejack's, after all, or maybe Mom and Dad's. But really, Sweetie Belle, you're supposed to tell me if you're going out!
Missing the recital was my bad, but this one is yours! But her conscience instantly told her she didn't believe that.
The thought still nagged the back of her mind, when did you leave, anyways?
Almost half an hour had passed before her boots were sinking in the snow. I'll be brave and adventurous today. Let's see what shortcut my sister knows to Sweet Apple Acres. She was following the tracks – and could, because they did not follow any of Ponyville's roads, or even dirt paths that she knew of – not that I'd be able to tell if this were a dirt path under all this snow...
On her right was a great field, a few sparse houses, and Ponyville a bit further across a frozen river hidden under the fresh snow. On her left, the rolling white hills disappeared into patches of forest. The paths bumped up and down, climbing higher and higher as she traveled.
She paused for a moment when something clicked in her mind. She looked down at Ponyville to her right, slightly below the horizon. This is that field me and Twilight had that conversation in, isn't it?
It felt oddly fresh in her mind – enough that she could tell this was the field, despite the snow and the sun masking the appearance it had worn on that summer night. Well, Twilight may have to worry about immortality and gotten that creepy book from the old castle, but I have to worry about neither! I don't intend to outlive Sweetie Belle by a even a single lifetime, either.
She slipped an uneasy laugh. Outlive her? Why did I use that particular wording? It's not like she's in any mortal danger... Her frightful laugh quickly sank, and a weight appeared in her gut.
She stole another glance at Ponyville below, and Canterlot, visible on the mountains far off on the horizon, before continuing her trek.
She descended the main hill for a second mile of travel. She followed the tracks around a patch of forest on her right, then stopped in place. The tracks led straight towards – it took her a moment to realize it was a pond, but it was quickly unmistakable. Surrounded by low hills and flat, there was a small pier at its edge and a cottage not far from it. A patch of snow on its edge was missing, revealing the ice underneath.
She galloped madly through the snow, sending a splash of white up around her. “Sweetie Belle!” she screamed.
There was no answer.
In moments and another quarter mile she was at the pond's edge. The tracks clearly led to a patch where the snow was gone, but the pond had long frozen back over. But another set of tracks came back out to her left – she sprinted up the newer tracks, then stopped when she saw – they led to the base of a leafless tree, where a large patch of snow was missing, and a much fresher set of tracks approached and left.
It was all within her sight – one set of tracks led from the nearby cottage, and the other into town. She had been following them enough now to tell – somepony had come from the home, found Sweetie Belle resting by the tree after she’d fallen in, and took her into town.
She had barely started sprinting down the tracks to Ponyville when she heard somepony calling her. A mare was waving her down from the house the tracks came from. She rushed over to her until she felt she was close enough to call her.
“Where's my sister!?” she yelled.
“The hospital! He took her -”
Rarity couldn't hear anything else she said over the sound of her own hooves crushing and plowing through snow.
It was immediately obvious to the nurse at the desk that it was either a truly dire emergency, or somepony blowing something out of proportion when Rarity burst in. Her kicking the door open to the hospital's emergency room earned glances from the various ponies waiting inside with fevers and cold chills.
But without a lot of blood or obvious pain, the nurse behind the desk didn't react much until Rarity was right at her.
“Where's my sister!? She's just a little filly – white coat, mane is in adorable little curly bulbs of blush pink and periwinkle purple, she came in just – a few hours ago? Last night – I'm not sure!” She panted madly, almost as wet from sweat as all the snow she'd been running through.
“Oh, m'am, was she admitted for hypothermia? By some stallion who didn't know-”
“Yes!”
“M'am, we can't be entirely sure, but... we had a filly brought in earlier this morning, and...” she paused for a moment. “I'm sorry, but despite everypony's best efforts, we weren't able to save that filly. But maybe you can help identify the body and see if it was her?”
At once, most of the chatter in the waiting room went silent. Rarity immediately paused her heavy panting, her throat freezing, her eyes going wide. Her breath quickly caught back up to her, but now pained, panicked and raspy. “No, no, it – it can't be her... It - it must've been... perhaps it wasn't here, or just...”
“There are no other hospitals in town, miss,” she explained, putting a little sympathy into her voice, then continuing more delicately, “Uhm, even if it's not her, maybe you'll know who it is? We haven't been able to identify her, maybe you can help us.”
“Uh, y-yes, sure... I'll...” she seemed to stare past the nurse and far beyond the wall behind her. “Yes,” she reiterated.
“Alright, I'll send for the coroner to take you to the morgue. Can I get your name and the date and town of birth, please?”
Rarity stood frozen. “R-Rarity. May fifteenth, nine seventy-six, here in Ponyville.” Her voice was hollow, devoid of emotion, and distracted.
“Okay, just wait here for a minute, m'am, we'll be right out shortly.”
“Right... wait...” She moved slowly, her gaze never quite landing on anything in the room. Other ponies gave her sympathetic and concerned looks, but she saw none of them.
A stallion showed up with some official-looking coat, asking for her. It felt like a dream – she didn't notice the details, and at any particular point she couldn't remember how she got there. She followed him behind the double-doors into the hospital. “She came in this morning, carried by a Mr. Davenport.”
“Oh. I know him.” Her words were drawn out. It was clear she wasn't listening entirely.
“Is he a friend, or relative? And you're the filly's sister?” he asked.
“Yes,” was all she answered with, not even sure what she was saying.
“I must warn you, miss, the filly does match the description you gave...” his voice tapered off.
She just looked at him. Just enough life sparked into her expression to show anxiety, her ears pulling back and lowering about halfway. “B-but you can't be sure?...” she plead.
He simply gave her a sorry look, before finally leading her into a frigid room with several bed-sized trays. Three had what were clearly sheets draped over bodies on them, and of the three, one was the size of a filly. There was a small, distinct bump at the head of a horn.
Her breathing froze for a moment as she realized how disturbingly similar the lump of blankets on the tray were to the lump Sweetie Belle had left in her boutique.
They looked very different. But she felt as though they looked exactly the same.
Her heart began to race.
She stopped in the doorway as he walked in, then he turned to her.
“Please, come in,” he gently called her.
She dragged her hooves in, refusing to look at the hidden bodies – but once she did look down at the small one, she couldn't take her eyes off of it. “Show me,” she lipped, unable to force the air through her lungs to say the words out loud.
He nodded.
He moved next to her, then grabbed the corner of the sheet and carefully folded it down, revealing the filly's face.
The door to Hondo's house swung open. “Hello? Wow, who's this good-lookin' filly. Oh, it's my daughter, Rarity!” He turned into the house and shouted back for his wife. “Dearest, Rarity's here, come say hi!” When he turned back to face his daughter he was taken aback as he noticed a nurse trailing behind her. His enthusiastic energy softened into something more sensitive. “Oh – oh, do you need a moment with your mother, or?...”
Rarity shook her head. “No, both of you need to be here.” Her voice was as hollow and unfocused as her gaze.
“Maybe you should come inside?” he asked, his tone strong with concern.
She looked down at the threshold, then up at him, still seemingly unable to focus her eyes. “Should I?” she asked, confused.
“Yes, yes, come inside, come inside, both of you.”
The nurse objected, “I'm only really here to make sure she gets home alright. If I may, I should head back to the hospital and leave you two to it.”
“Oh-okay. Thank you for watching out for our Rarity.” He nodded at her.
The nurse nodded back, gave a soft “take care,” and left.
Rarity walked inside without a word, deepening her father's concern. “Are you alrighty, dear?”
She didn't even seem to notice, instead walking right into the living room. It was decorated with a grandfather clock, odd trophies and banners from a long history of sports games and athletic achievements.
Cookie Crumble finally entered the room, “Oh, honey – ” she stopped when she noticed Rarity sitting on the couch, staring at the floor, unusually pale even for her white complexion. “Oh dear what's going on?”
“Mom, Dad. Sweetie Belle is...” she turned up to face them as she spoke. They were holding their breath. “Dead.”
The word left the room silent except for the painfully loud ticking of the grandfather clock.
“P-pardon?” her mother stammered in disbelief. “D-did you say...?”
“Sweetie Belle died,” Rarity repeated, her own normal accent of sophistication halfway gone.
Rarity's mom turned to her husband. “Y-you mean she's in the hospital and might be about to-”
“No,” Rarity answered.
Cookie's lip began to quiver. “H-hon, I don't believe it!” she turned to her husband.
“A-are you sure? What happened?” he asked, his voice intent.
“I - … I saw her body.” Rarity's eyes finally began to well with tears. Her breathing became intense, her next words burst out of her, “She was in the morgue! A dead body! She's dead!” her head fell into her hooves and she cried uncontrollably. Her mother ran over and joined her in an embrace, along with her father.
She had come home to create. It was therapeutic for her, and now as the rain in her life poured, she direly needed her outlet. On first hearing the news, her mind had seized up, unable to think or move. Crying had finally allowed her to feel again, but she could feel her mind rusting once more as she walked home in the snow. In the morning it was a beautiful icing, but now it was a colorless paste that muted the vibrancy of Ponyville under a lifeless sheet of ice. Every filly she saw looked like Sweetie Belle from the corner of her eye, but every time she glanced with held breath, she was nowhere to be found.
She finally arrived home and made her way upstairs. The boutique was empty, and she knew it would now stay this way. She jumped when she felt Sweetie nuzzle her leg – only to realize it was Opal brushing by. Standing at the top of the stairs, she looked up to Sweetie Belle's room. It pained her too much to consider going inside, so instead she turned and entered her own room to collapse on her own bed.
She couldn't tell how much time had passed. Only that she felt confused – unsure if it was morning, afternoon, or afternoon of the next day. She simply sat on her bed, staring at the wall. There was a gentle orange glow. Orange. Sweetie Belle likes that color.
She hoped to herself it was just some bad dream – but she knew it wasn't. The tracks outside her house, the lump in the bed – they still taunted her.
Her ears perked as she heard knocking on the boutique's door. Some voices said something. But she couldn't tell what it was. She remained on her bed, unmoving. Eventually the voices went away.
Soon, the orange was gone as well, replaced only by the darkness of night, and the familiar gentle trickle of moonlight she had seen last night. She looked back up at the calendar. Sunday, December 23rd. Then down at the card, still on the floor. Saturday, December 22nd. She looked back up at the calendar on the wall, grabbing the latest day's card in her magic, pulling, but couldn’t bring herself to deliver enough force to pull it off. She started shaking.
“N-no...” she muttered.
“No!” she said, more firmly.
She grabbed yesterday's card in her magic, lifting it off the floor, and slammed it against the calendar as if she could put it back on, “NO!” she yelled, breathing hard, breaking into sobs.
“Why?” she asked, softly in-between her cries. “Why did it happen? Of all the ways... Why couldn't she?... Why didn't I!?...” her magic faded off yesterday's card, and it fluttered to the ground.
She remembered the days of sewing, designing. How the last few weeks she'd been growing ever more obsessed with her work. It seemed obvious, undeniable. There was one prime evil responsible for pulling her away from Sweetie Belle, leading ultimately to her death.
She whipped around to face the sewing machine she'd named Besty – as if to mock her mistake in putting it first, above Sweetie Belle – the monstrosity that had distracted her, the damned siren that had held her captive, chained her back with the joy of creation from saving her sister. Sewing her with some perverse joy to the thread that led to a murder by neglect of the one she cared about most, her own precious little innocent sister who depended on her for life and love and validation. She gripped the murderous machine in her magic.
“NO!” she screamed, throwing the thing onto the ground with all her strength, watching it break open, screaming again and again as she lifted it up and slammed the lying beast into the ground repeatedly, before throwing herself onto the ground next to it. Her screams were replaced with uncontrollable sobbing, convulsing her entire body with every heave as she curled into a ball. She realized she sat next to the ruined corpse of her second murder victim and the only thread of joy left for her.
She didn't lie next to the ruins of a sewing machine, but the murdered corpse of her filly self, her older self in red glasses who had found such joy, bliss and purpose in creation. On the floor lay the one who had murdered Sweetie Belle by neglect, but she was unsure which one it was; the corpse of Besty, or the corpse now responsible for two others.
“No, no, no, no...” she cried.
The world spun around her.
She was in darkness, alone. Nothing could ever change that. The boutique was empty. Sweetie Belle was gone forever.
And it was all her fault.
“It's just... it ain't her usual way of doin' things. We've seen'er when she thought her whole life was over an' she didn't act nothin' like this,” Applejack pointed out, worry brimming in her voice.
“Then something about it must be different than those other times,” Twilight stated, sorrow accenting the logical statement.
“But, we've already been over this a lotta times…” a helpless, burned-out frustration of desperation set her tone as she tried to find a way to help her friend. She relaxed slightly as a hint of curiosity came over her, “If this is all ya wanted to talk about, I reckon' you would've gathered everypony else, too. But, you just wanted to speak to me - do ya got somethin’ particular in mind to help her out?” AJ asked.
She and Twilight were alone in her map-room. There was no need for the map to call them, this time. Rarity's friends had met here many times in the past week, the same problem taking much of their time: Rarity's refusal to see them.
Twilight nodded, continuing in her analytical problem-solving tone underscored by worry and fatigue, “I mean, I could go on again about how much it concerns me that an extrovert is isolating herself – she even missed the Hearth's Warming party! I thought for sure maybe she'd sing Over The Rainbow at the party to remember Sweetie Belle -”
“Over the rainbow?” Applejack asked, fear in her voice.
“Yeah – ‘singing over the rainbow’ doesn’t mean anything crazy, ‘Over the Rainbow’ is just the name of the song they were going to sing. Maybe I shouldn't have said that... It's what they were practicing, they wanted to keep it a surprise so they told me not to tell anypony, but I guess that's moot point, now... But this is Rarity who's suddenly gone quiet! Rarity, of all ponies, won't even do anything but tell us to leave if we come begging for a repair to any of our clothes or asking to talk, I mean –”
Applejack interrupted, her burnout showing in her sharpness, “It's the ways you'd think she'd cope, I got it, and however we try to get through to her she just keeps us locked out. And it's more than a mite frustratin' to go over this same thing every day for so long and review everythin' again and again. I don't know how to help her at this point, Twi, not even her parents do. I just - we all just wish we could at least talk to her or get her to even answer the door but she won’t! We're all mighty worried about what she might do locked up in there, she really ain't actin' like herself,” the frustration in her voice was replaced by curiosity, “but what do you got that you wanted to talk to me about? Somethin’ that may get through to her, I take it?”
“Well… I wanted to talk to you because I realized there’s something she may come out for – and that’s the problem. The Book of Knowledge. I – I know dark magic can do things like bring back the dead but it always makes things worse than it helps – if we turned to it to bring back Sweetie Belle, there'd be some even higher price to pay. But this book is... I'm tempted to read it, for her sake. For Rarity's. For my sake. For Celestia's. And for my curiosity, even. Luna said that armies would fight to read it if they knew the power that was inside. Do you think it holds those kinds of secrets? How to...”
Applejack simply looked horrified. “I – I don't like to even think'a it, Twi. Ask Celestia, I'm sure – I'm absolutely sure she'll tell ya not to go dwellin' on that kinda thing. You said yourself dark magic only makes things worse, never better. Always a lie, never an answer.”
Twilight just looked down at the map, concerned, then back up at her friend. “But that's the thing. A good pony like Celestia would tell me not to, but what about Rarity, who won't talk to anyone, and who's behaving so... unusually? Nopony's going to tell her not to think about it. If losing Sweetie Belle is making her lose her mind... What did I tell them, AJ? I can't remember! I can't remember how much I told everypony – our friends – about the book! Should we move it? Should we hide it somewhere else? But Celestia said to keep it in my library!”
The farmpony opened her mouth to speak – then paused. She closed it again, slowly considering, then finally spoke, “Twi... Are you ever gonna read it?”
Twilight's expression turned pitiful. “I – I mean to. Eventually. When the time is- …right.” She began to make the connection.
“Don'tya reckon'... if there was ever a 'right time'... That Sweetie Belle’s… passing...”
“Didn't you just say I shouldn't think about it?” she asked pointedly.
“Well, I said not to be gettin' all weird and tempted by dark stuff an' readin' it for the sake of raisin' the dead. But Celestia said you gotta read that book eventually, right, for other reasons? And what happens if Rarity reads it – then we gotta go in after her, right?”
Twilight's expression had turned afraid as AJ spoke. It... it could be tomorrow. She remembered Celestia's comforting hug. The terrible implication that she needed it. She shook her head, “No, if she goes in, then I have to go in after her –”
“Hold on just a minute!” she stood up in her chair, leaning over the table. “Don'tya dare go in on somethin' like that without us, ya'hear? We haven't gone to the ends'a Equestria fightin' disharmony together for nothin'!” she pounded a hoof on the table.
Twilight straightened her posture, but stayed in her seat, stating with the objectivity of a commander, “If she goes in, we won't have time to gather everypony. Celestia made that much clear. 'Immediately' is not a vague word, and I'm pretty sure that's the word she used. 'won't last long' and 'cruel world' are pretty darn ominous things for Celestia to say, and I'm not going to leave Rarity to that. If I don't know where you are, I can't go looking for you with a dozen teleports when I'll need that energy and that time to rescue her from some 'cruel' world she'll wind up in.”
Applejack slid back into her seat, softening to a more normal tone, “Well don'tya got some sorta spell to find us in a hurry? And you know where we live. Me'n the rest'a the Elements, that is.”
“I may know where you live, but I can't go looking through the orchards for you,” and it'd be a huge relief to not find you if it means not dragging you into all this... Well, there is a scrying spell. I shouldn't mention it!... But isn't that kind of lying?
She sighed internally. For you, AJ, I'll be honest as an Apple, not even lying by omission of something relevant... “Maybe if I had a hair of yours or something I could teleport straight to -”
She wasn't even done talking before AJ had stroked her hoof through her mane and put a loose hair on the table. “We lost enough already! If she goes off with that book, don’t ya dare go in after her without me!”
Twilight sighed externally and took the hair in her magic, pulling it to her side of the table. “Okay, I'll keep you in mind. But don’t you think we should move the book? Am I being too literal about Celestia saying 'in your library'? But she could've said 'in your collection' if she didn't mean the actual library... But we're already kind of bending the rules by putting it in that secret chamber under the library but still kinda in it...?” she pursed her lips as she thought.
Applejack relaxed and continued in a more reflective tone, “Well, the way I see it, if you said that much about the book – 'cause truth be told, I can't really remember how much you said, either – so if the thought even crosses her mind, then she should have the right to read it for her sister. I might can imagine what that’s like... This has gotta happen sooner or later, so... I may not remember if you slipped somethin' about powerful magic'n all, but I do definitely remember you gave an awful lot of warnings that non'a us are likely to forget, so she knows she's offerin' her life if she reads it. So if she hurts herself with it, that's on her, it's not on you. And who knows, maybe she’ll find some way to get Sweetie Belle back, even, by readin’ that darn thing. I can’t fault her for doin’ something crazy for somepony she loves…” she trailed her train of thought off, the finalized with certainty, “We have to let her read it if she decides to.”
The princess closed her eyes, thinking, then nodded, listening to her friend, confidant and adviser. “Alright. You make a good point. We can't do this lightly, though. There's a few places I can think of that I can hide it, and I have an urge to go do that right now so Rarity can't find it. It's not a possibility to take lightly, but…” she bowed her head, her ears flopping down as she admitted, “You're right… right? It's not my fault if she does something after all the warnings I've given her, is it? But whether it is or not... I must respect her choice, just like I would hope she'd respect my choice to follow her, and like Celestia respected my choice by giving me the book…” she finished, raising her head again, finally determined on at least something, thanks to her role model.“At this rate, maybe you should've been the princess,” she finished with a little tease.
“Just speakin' my mind...” AJ adjusted her hat. “So, I don't mean to keep beatin' a dead tree – I was the first to say that spinnin' our wheels again'n again is frustratin' – but... I do worry 'bout her. Me, Big Mac and Granny have been helpin' Applebloom and Scootaloo, even keepin' an eye on AB along with talking to her a lot. But AB's pretty emotionally stable and Rarity doesn't got either that stability nor family'n friends talking to her. But we can't exactly go sittin' around in her Boutique without her permission. An' if she found any'a us breakin' down her locked door, I don't think that'd really help our case for gettin' through to her. But honestly I'm so worreid about her at this point I'm really thinking of doin' that... I can make her a new door pretty quick'n easy, anyways...” Concern was plastered clearly on AJ's expression, and Twilight's quickly matched it.
“You – you think she might... do something she can't come back from?” Twilight delicately asked.
AJ looked away, “Well... She's just...” then made eye contact again, her voice picking up certainty, “You said it yourself. She's not actin' normal at all. Nothin' like her usual self, an you'n I both know she's a very emotional pony, so... yeah. I do think she might need somepony to watch over her.”
“Well, to tell you the truth, I'm concerned about that, too...” her ears flopped down and she looked at the floor as she thought. She looked back up at AJ with a surprising, small smile. “I think I have it covered, though – at least to keep her safe from anything permanent. Given who we have on hoof, I'd never forgive myself if I didn't ask him to keep an eye on her.”
Her body moved, but her mind didn't move with it. Her sewing machine had broken, so she simply sorted her shop. She felt her wild, unkept mane, how her limbs felt heavy and weak, her pained, sleep-deprived eyes and the nasty grime of not having washed her mane even once in the day. But I washed my mane when I should've gone out after her. I – I she cut her thoughts off, focusing instead on sorting the dresses. Can't wash mane. Bad thing. That was a bad thing, I can't do that! IT KILLED HER. If only I hadn't – she cut her thoughts off again.
Ever since she refused to go to the Hearth's Warming Eve party, she had only fallen further, not having the strength to confront her friends about why she'd chosen to miss it. In her minds' eye, she saw it again – the wonderful dress she'd planned to make Sweetie Belle for the occasion, how everypony would talk about their duet. How they could even do an encore performance at the party, her sweet voice singing Over The Rainbow, gracing the halls of Twilight's new castle.
An encore of the duet that never happened, and now never would.
She hadn't even thought to turn the lights on in her home, her mind had grown so constantly interrupted and cut off with such thoughts of her sister's death. She'd been confused with constant exhaustion, post-traumatic anxiety and insomnia. So she strained to see and sorted her inventory in the dark boutique. It was lit only by what daylight made its way inside through the windows with their blinds closed.
She suddenly realized she was re-sorting the same clothes rack for the third time. She backed away, trotting into the storage closet, making her way to a corner to begin another sort. Sweetie Belle caught her eye – she whipped her head around just to find filly-sized costumes. But ones she recognized – ones Sweetie had worn, but Sweetie herself, of course, gone.
The pale, lifeless corpse she had seen in the morgue popped into her mind again. My fault, the words came along with it. She quickly kicked the thoughts out, shaking her head, focusing on the task at hoof.
In front of her was a vampire costume, an ancient nobility costume, and a whole rack of extravagant medieval designs for a play all three of the Crusaders had put on.
The costumes were perfect! Sweetie had shouted furiously.
The same confusion she felt then came over her again. But I can't talk to you, now. I can't ask for your forgiveness any more and talk to you. She tried to remember – that afternoon. The last afternoon Sweetie had stormed in, mad at her – but she couldn't. The words were a blur, a haze of yelling and weak replies – and some horrible, distasteful remark about – she gasped. You aren't the only thing in my life!
There are more important things than some filly's recital!
She grabbed the clothes rack and threw it to the ground, “NO THERE AREN'T!” she screamed at her old self, tears welling in her eyes. “There-there aren't more important things! It wasn't just some filly's recital... It was... It was our recital...”
Damnit, if only I hadn't said that – if I hadn't thought that – why didn't I appreciate you!? Didn't I learn my lesson with the Sisterhooves Social!? With your play!? And I was even looking forward to this one – I was looking forward to it, how did I forget? All that practicing and I forgot! All that sweet music we sang together and – and –!
She stood, panting, tears running down her face. She sprinted up the stairs, straight to Sweetie's room.
She didn't know who she was yelling at, but she had to yell. “Isn't there anything I can do!? Nothing at all!? Anything at all!? I just – I just want to apologize! To take back my stupidity! To check on you one more time Saturday night, to see you're not just a bundle of blankets! Sweetie Belle, oh Sweetie Belle!” she cried at the ceiling, just imagining, pretending just one more time she could hear her squeaky little voice answer.
She turned around, some part of her imagination hoping to see the little filly standing in the doorway, but instead she saw the old crayon art piece next to it. The poster she'd made the day before the Sisterhooves Social, of her and Rarity in a big heart, trimmed with baby blue sapphires. She'd screamed when Sweetie first proudly displayed it to her, only that time she could apologize. That time she could make it right.
But this time, the poster was torn down the middle.
She began to shake. “A-are you...” she walked towards the poster. “O-of course! You were mad at me! Of course you were mad at me! You tore the poster and you were right to! What I did was criminal! And it was all my fault! And I've known it this whole time! I didn't tell mom or dad, I didn't tell the doctors, I didn't tell my friends – nopony knows what happened, except the one who brought you into the hospital found you frozen by the pond. Classic murder case. Classic murder case! I even turned everypony away at the door, even mom and dad and my friends! – oh, classic move, Rarity, they're all sure to think I'm guilty now – but aren't I!? You died angry at me, Sweetie Belle! You died angry! And I deserve it!” her voice had grown angry and desperate towards the end.
She depended on me for everything, for love, for guidance, for confirmation – I had to show up to our recital, no matter how exhausted I was. I had to! It was a duet, she was counting on me! But I didn't, and so it's my fault. They'd be right to think I'm guilty – to hang me right in town square!
She could see it in her mind's eye; booing, angry mobs. The Sister-killer.
“Sister-killer! Sister-killer!” she shouted – she wasn't sure what she flung across the room, but she had to throw something, something had to be the subject of her anger. Something had to pay.
“It's all my fault! It's all my fault!” she cried, starting to sob again. “That's why I couldn't tell mom and dad, that's why I couldn't tell my friends, or even the hospital! Because I know I'm guilty! I know who's responsible!” she was panting madly, the room was spinning around her.
She sat down, putting her hooves over her face. And it's never getting better.You're never coming back! You're dead and I'm not, even though it's my fault! Nothing can ever fix this, that sewing machine - Besty isn't repairing herself, either, I'm never letting myself sew another stitch after what happened to you!
But I can't live like this – I can't not create! But I can't create! You're dead and I'm alive and it's my fault! I'm guilty for your murder, that's why I couldn't tell dad! I know the solution – there's one solution to all of this! One and only one way to make this right. The same way other murderers make amends in all those Shadow Spade mystery novels.
She shakily stood up, and started walking down the hall. I have to do this. I have to. You're dead and I'm alive and it's my fault and that's not right! I'm the guilty one, I should pay the price, not you!
The walk accelerated into a trot as she descended the stairs. You're never coming back, ever. I screwed up. This boutique is already doomed to be empty forever. And it's because of me and nopony else. Me! I'm the culprit! I'm the reason you're dead!
Her shaking grew more intense as she surveyed her boutique and picked a spot. A stage. Just like it ought to be. It ought to be public, but I'm too much a coward to let everypony know I'm guilty. But they'll know. They'll know for your sake, Sweetie Belle. And I deserve it! For what I did to you!
This is what would've – what should happen. I'm just making it faster and saving everypony the trouble! I'd turn myself in for murder then ask for the noose to make it right!
Using her magic from across the room she yanked a quill and business card from a desk in the corner where customers would pay, and began scribbling on the back of it. She yanked card after card, writing more and more, before finally finishing and setting them on the floor.
She laughed at her creativity as she pulled rope from the curtains around the stage and pulled the curtains open. Seeing the corpse of my sewing machine makes me want to throw up. I'll never create again, I'll never be happy again, the two reasons I live are gone now, but that doesn't matter anymore, one last show, one last chic display and the pain will be over and you'll be avenged and everything will finally be right again!
She quickly glanced over all the outfits out on display and took one – a red period dress, perfect for a Shadow Spade villain! – and in a flash of magic, she was in it, giving it a twirl as she relished, one more time, the feeling she had lost, like a breath of fresh air. She took the curtain rope in her magic and tied one end to a decorative knob above the stage, and the other end into a slipknot.
Then she turned to face the noose. Her heart stopped.
She stared at it for a long minute, her heart now racing. Am I... Am I really going to do this?
Oh, you'd better, Rarity! Putting the dress on and giving a carefree twirl was fun - so fun, just like old times - but I can't let this go, not any more than I can apologize to Sweetie!
I'm never creating again. My career is over. Sweetie Belle is dead. Nopony will want to court and marry a murderer like me, and I should be alone, I deserve it! I made myself alone when I killed Sweetie Belle. I should just die! I do nothing but kill my sister – Twilight was right, ultimately we'll all be dead, anyways. Only this way... Tears began to fall freely down her cheeks as she shook.
I set things right.
She stepped up on the stage and turned around. As her heart pounded, she blinked away tears to see clearly and looked down on the floor below the stage, realizing she never planned to step down on it again, though she would step off the stage.
How dare I even stop to think! I deserve this for what I did! Somepony died because of me! Because of ME!
The noose was down to her forehead. She stood up on her hindlegs just behind it. It was a balancing act to stand on only two legs, but a pony with as much poise as herself could balance for a long time. She took a careful, wobbly step forward so she stood on the edge of the stage, the silken loop of rope hanging right in her face. Rearing up on her back legs like this, all she had to do was slip the loop over her head, around her neck, and step off the stage.
I-I set things right.
She held the curtain rope in her magic. Her ears perked as she thought she heard a few distant notes. A music box upstairs started playing.
She recognized the song, but didn't even think to wonder why or how it had started playing.
Some part of her head screamed that she pull the noose on and jump off immediately – she twitched as she pulled the loop of rope open around her face, but stopped with it under her chin and the knot still over her forehead. She paused instead, listening to a calmer, gentler part of her mind.
She recognized the song.
Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
She'd memorized it well.
I – I get last words before I die, don't I? Murderers get last words! I – I should apologize to Sweetie Belle. A normal apology just won't do for this, but I know just what to – not to say, but to sing.
Her hurried rage to kill herself had calmed for a moment, but she slipped the noose on the rest of the way, anyways. No, I don't get to back out of this. This is what I deserve!... but... it can wait a moment. This is the execution I deserve. Just last words. Then I step off and... and die.
The prelude on the music box upstairs finished, and the first line began.
She sang along in her mind.
Somewhere, over the rainbow Way up high There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby
I-it's all she wanted... For me to sing with her one more time... So I will, sis... I owe you the whole song. Not one small piece of it. The whole song. We were supposed to sing together.
“P-please hangpony, let me sing with my voice clear? One last requiem for my sister?” she said, playing out the drama in her imagination in the dark, empty boutique.
She slipped the noose off her neck, lowered herself down onto all fours, and let go of the rope with her magic, letting it flop harmlessly next to her horn.
She felt weak from standing bipedal for so long, so she sat down on the stage, looking at the floor she had just barely decided to never step on again, and started talking out loud, gently, sorrowfully, “Oh Sweetie Belle, I even wanted to make our own version, for just the two of us – I finished a third of it, too, before I decided there just wasn't time. Did I ever tell you that? I didn't, did I?... I was so very much looking forward to what ponies would be saying about our duet at the Hearth's Warming Eve party, even doing an encore!... I really was... Let's... Let's do it, together, one last time before they give me what I deserve, and... I'm so, so sorry.”
She waited for the music box upstairs to loop, faced up towards the imaginary audience sitting in front of the stage, then sang aloud.
“Somewhere, over the rainbow Way up high There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby”
The confusion, pain and despair in her mind began to melt away before the notes like cold morning fog under a brilliant, warm sun.
She felt reluctant to finish the song and die – she was now unsure if she was hanging herself or being hanged.
She just wanted to sing forever.
“Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true”
She couldn't bring herself to sing in a showy, ornate voice. Instead of a performance, it was more like a lullaby. A lullaby meant for her little sister. She couldn't hear the music box anymore, and still didn't even think to wonder why it had played. But it didn't play this far into the song, anyways, and she knew what it sounded like. She had harmonized with Sweetie across the entire thing in their last rehearsals.
“Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me”
For a moment, she forgot everything. She wasn't on a stage about to kill herself. The boutique wasn't dark. She sang next to, along with, and harmonizing with her sister, while sunset bathed the snowy world outside in brilliant hues of orange and gold. She could feel the warmth of the light on her face as she sang. With such passion in her heart, she couldn’t sit any longer, so she stood up to sing properly, as she would’ve at the recital.
“where troubles melt like lemondrops So far above the chimney-tops that's where you'll find me
“Somewhere, over the rainbow bluebirds fly birds fly over the rainbow why, then oh why can't I?”
The raving was gone from her mind. The room was silent, and the blinds were cracked open just enough to let in streaks of setting sunlight. She paused, for a moment confused that Sweetie had vanished – it had felt so normal harmonizing with her again, she didn't even realize she wasn't even there. She looked around the boutique, wide-eyed, realizing it was empty of crowd, executioner, and Sweetie Belle, and she would never hear her sister's singing again.
But the raging storm in her mind was gone. A quieter, calmer side of her could now be heard in her mind. She knew Sweetie wouldn't have wanted her to die. All she wanted was to sing with the sister she loved.
She felt as though now she had granted that last request to sing for Sweetie Belle.
One last time.
She fell sideways, laid flat on the stage and cried.
“Oh thank goodness you're alive!” came a deep, masculine voice. One that sounded well-suited for the chaotic malevolence it usually brought.
Rarity's eyes snapped open. She jumped onto her hooves – she was still in the same dress, on the stage – even the silken noose made of curtain rope still hung above her. In front of her sat Discord.
“I know it's just tragic that nopony can be as good as me, but really, did you have to go this far? How did this even happen, anyways? Did you just decide, 'hey, if I'm going to go limp and die, why don't I just skip the dying part so I can decide not to get filled with worms if I change my mind later'? That's really the more reasonable thought. I never understood some of the weird things mortals do but I guess you're more reasonable than some, at least,” he said with a voice full of conceit.
“Discord!” was all she was able to say, the sudden whiplash of emotions physically painful enough to stun her.
“Or was it a murder attempt? Did somepony try to harm you?” His eyes glistened in a frightening way, something primeval sparked within him, a lurking monster hungering for a chance to be unleashed.
“N-no! And what is the matter with you!? Just barging in to my boutique!? I – I –”
“Might've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for meddling ol’me! Oh, what's the matter? Opal got your tongue? Something caught in your throat? Upset you didn't get a kick from it? But you know I couldn't just leave you hanging!” He grinned.
Her jaw hung open. She closed it, her face flustering, tears welling in her eyes. “The-the NERVE!” she fumed, struggling for words in her sheer shock at his reaction. “You absolute monster! I – I can't believe it!”
“Oh, hey, your face would've been about that red, too. And it's a good thing you reconsidered – you know you organic things make such an awful mess when you die and that's such a nice dress.”
“Don't you care at all!? Isn't there some compassionate bone in your entire disgusting, chimeric body!?” she shouted at him.
“Speak of compassion! That's just racist! I'll have you know I'm not a 'chimera', and I resent being referred to as such!” he feigned offense, putting on a melodramatic pose of some insulted high-society dame, “I will have you know I am a draconequus.”
“You – you're a monster is what you are! A chimeric monster! You just – not a word of concern, of compassion, of comfort –”
“Well if I wasn't concerned I wouldn't be here! And a lot of good comforting words have done for you this last week – why, not a single one has gotten through!”
She stomped a hoof with a huff. “Get out!” she demanded.
“Now wait just one minute!”
“GET OUT!” She screamed.
He was unaffected. “I think I know how you can save Sweetie Belle.” He grinned wolfishly.
“I SAID GET -” she stopped in the middle of her demand, the words suddenly striking her, melting her furious expression.
Everything about it screamed an obvious “ignore him!” at Rarity. Who he was, the conniving tone in his voice, the wolfish grin, how he put his claw and paw together as he said it. But the offer was too much. And with how powerful he was...
“I'm supposed to believe you have one ounce of care for me or her after that display!?” Then something clicked, and she began to realize who she was talking to. “I-I'm not using some evil dark magic you're trying to poison me with! It will just – kill both my parents or something! I won't hear it!” she objected, yet left one opportunity open, and Discord quickly took it.
“It's not dark magic, though. Why, Aurora-head herself even gave it to Sparklebutt, and told her that at some point she'd have to read it, and it certainly has the power to save your sister. It's transcendent of this reality, harmony magic of the highest order, in fact” – he stuck his tongue out and wrinkled his nose in disgust – “why, I feel nasty just mentioning it. But it's not as nasty as the mess you were about to make – no, it's far worse, but here I am, being a compassionate and selfless friend to mention it to you, anyways, because I think it's only fair you know, and that you might be interested. Perhaps even find it a preferable alternative to suicide.”
“S-save her?...” she stammered, suddenly noticing the wording he'd used. Her hooves felt light. She felt the room begin spinning yet again. Her mind froze on his words; not resurrect her, but save her.
“Yes. You are still interested in that, I presume? But I don't know, really I'm not supposed to be telling you these kinds of things,” he corkscrewed in the air, coming to rest floating upside-down in front of Rarity, his mischeveious grin close to her face. “Why, little princess herself would be quite upset if she found out I told you. After all, reading The Book of Knowledge could hurt you, a lot. It will hurt you a lot. If you 'read' it. If you're willing to save Sweetie Belle.”
“Th-that book?” she asked, recoiling. The only things she could remember about it were the endless grim, terrible warnings Twilight gave.
“Really, I've never known you to stutter, Miss Marshmallow. It's like you've been just melting this whole time. Insomnia, stress – it's funny really, you had everything you needed to deal with this loss in a healthy way and tighten bonds with your family like Applejack did way back when when her parents died, but you just had to lash out and retreat from the only things in the world that could've kept you sane,” his voice bore a cocktail of conceit, pity and genuine sympathy. “And instead of tightening the bonds with your family and friends, you opted to tighten a bond around your neck. Or, almost. Congratulations on not, by the way, it would've been a terrible choice, really. Books are a much better way to die.”
“Twilight warned us about that book.” She took on an aggressive posture, leaning in to his face. “And she didn’t say anything about it being able to bring ponies back! Why would you do this, Discord? What do you have to gain from trying to get me to go read such a dastardly tome!?”
“Well if I wanted to kill you I – well honestly I could've just left you here and I'm sure you would've found your way back to this rope sooner or later.” He floated up to hold it in his griffon claw, then looked down at her, “You're only going to get crazier the longer you go without socializing, and even more angsty the longer you go without creating. Since you currently intend to do neither, and the wannabe princess wants to be a real princess with big princess underwear, then there's a few things she'll need to see for herself, and I'd say saving Sweetie Belle is an excellent catalyst.”
He floated back down to her, putting his lion paw on her shoulder, “and there's a few things you'll need to experience before you see how utterly stupid what you're doing to yourself is. I mean, really, Sweetie Belle had some temper, sure, but she loved you and here you've managed to convince yourself you're killing her beloved older sister for her sake just because she tore some old poster in a tantrum? She felt bad about it, too. You should ask her about it next time you meet.” His grin, like his words, was an odd combination of wolfish preying and genuine excitement to help her.
Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of his offer, and her sister’s fate. “If you don't want me to die why are you saying I should read that book – is it – some kind of 'life for a life' exchange?” Her face crossed with horror as she anticipated the choice – but immediately made it in her mind. She was so close to killing herself, anyways, what was there to lose if she could give Sweetie another chance at life, to undo her mistake?
Discord flipped again, putting his paw and talon to his cheeks in excitement. “Oh, just look at your face right now! Such determination! Such spunk! Such life! But it's so darn hollow!” He pounded his paw into his talon as his expression turned bitter as his brows furled. “You're not willing to trade your life for hers because you love her so much, but because your life doesn't mean anything to you right now! That's not the right way to go about it at all! It won't do! Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned this at all!” he floated off towards the door, crossing his forelimbs and feigning leaving.
“Wait!” Rarity cried out. “No, whatever it is, I'm willing to do it! For Sweetie Belle – if this can really bring her back – but what is it, if it's not my life for hers? Why, then, did Twilight say the book would kill whoever reads it? And what do I do to save Sweetie?”
He stopped, turned around, then in an instant was back in her face, wearing a genuine grin again. “Excellent!” He wrinkled his nose and swiped his paw through the air, “Eh, but first you can start by taking a shower! And washing that mane! Make yourself look good, ready to shout, 'hello world!' Then meet me back here in an hour, and no: You won't die. Not literally, but you're going to ask yourself many times why you shouldn't and you may want to, that’s what Twilight meant, even if she didn’t know what she meant.” Suddenly his face became intense, gazing straight into her eyes, urgency suddenly crashing into his voice, as he pointed at the silk slipknot she'd tied. “So I want you, right now, to look at that noose, and tell it why you refuse to wear it again!”
She looked at the loop of rope, then back at him, opening her mouth to object when he cut her off.
“-Go on, hurt its feelings.” He waved his paw at her. “Hate it more than you've ever hated a camera! This is for your own sake, really. Because it's going to chase you a lot where you're going and nothing less will do! You can't just say 'no' to death, Rarity, where you're going you're going to have to scream 'no!' at it with everything in your lungs and spirit and more!” He edged closer to her, growing more intense and emphatic as he spoke.
She fought the urge to cower under him – I – I have to be strong if I'm going to do this...
“So go on, already! Don't wait for me to stop talking, show us that you actually care about your sister! Because if you do you'll have to do more than just talk over ponies, you'll have to realize YOU are the only one who can save Sweetie Belle! And if you die, she dies! It's not about your life, anymore, she's standing on a stool here, this noose around HER neck and-”
She could see it – if she was the only being that could bring her sister back, and if she'd stepped off the stage wearing the knot she would've ended not only her own life but any hope of her sister's rescue – “NO!” she screamed at the rope, grabbing it in her magic, and yanking it so hard the decorative knob it was mounted to above the stage ripped clean off in a metallic thunk.
Discord's eyes shot wide, watching the bronze knob fly right past him and land on the floor. He then turned to Rarity, who was panting, legs spread in a fighting stance. He grinned and clapped. “Bravo! Now, you'll -”
“And I'm not being manipulated by you!” she whipped around and snapped at him, her eyes and voice as fierce as her sudden attack.
He held out his paw and talon and waved her back. “No, no, I'm just pointing to the thing you're looking for! Now, if you want to survive more than five minutes after reading that thing you'll need a spirit like this!” Leaning back, he reached out and carefully patted her head with his paw while she just kept glaring at him. “Now go wash up, get yourself that fire ruby, a nice black cloak for the event, and meet me back down here and I'll show you what you want.”
Her eyes were wide, a ferocity in them nopony was used to seeing, and her voice more scathing and angry than anypony had heard, “You expect me to go 'pretty myself up' while you hold my little sister as leverage!?” she spat.
He again waived his forelimbs, “No, no, it's not like that at all! It's just –” his voice quickly switched from desperation to a more normal tone, “– well to be completely honest you're kind of scaring me! You aren't going to murder somepony, you're going to save your sister. But that fire in your eyes says otherwise!”
Her intensity simmered to a growl. “I'll do anything to save my sister.”
“Even dark magic?” he asked, putting on a tempting voice and a spark in his eye, leaning in so his pupils were just a hair from hers.
She quickly snapped out of her ferocious state, stepping back, but anger still tinged her words, “Uh – I – you said it wasn't dark magic!”
Discord relaxed, leaning back and speaking easier, “It's not, I just wanted to get you out of that murder mask you were wearing. Now go clean up. It'll help clear your mind so you can think straight because you're going to need that last bit of sanity you have. Now go! I'll be right down here, waiting.”
She pursed her lips, sighed, then took a more controlled glare up at him. “Okay. But this matters a lot to me, Discord. No tricks, no games. I know who you are and what you used to be, but you've changed, and I'm trusting your reformation that Fluttershy led, because I trust Fluttershy – and I’m trusting that time with Tirek taught you better, because I trust Twilight.”
“And it did,” for the first time, his voice was serious and respectful, only to lose it again in an instant, “I'm the master of chaos, Rarity, not the god of social tact, so forgive me for being myself,” and suddenly the sincerity was back in his voice, “but I'm really doing this to help you, because you won't help yourself, and Twilight needs to read a book, and no other reason. You will cause a lot of suffering, but ultimately it will be worth it. You know dark magic promises gold upfront and later gives death, but I'm promising your suffering, so later you can unlock what you desire most. That, too, can be a lie sometimes, but not this time.
“No tricks, no deceit, you know what you're getting into, Twilight warned you, and don't forget. That's why I'm telling you to dress up and brace yourself because you're going somewhere terrible, worse than you can imagine. The 'you' you are today will die, but only as the penultimate act of your – and Sweetie's – rebirth. That is my truthful promise. So go prepare yourself, Rarity. I'll point the way, but once you embark, you must make this journey on your own.”
Rarity just looked at him, dumbfounded. “I didn't expect that from you...” she said.
“Oh, if I were always following the same routine, even if it was a complete inability to be serious, that would still be a form of order, wouldn't it? And shame on me if I ever take the slightest bit of order, and become – ehck – predictable! Now go. My patience isn't as infinite as I am,” he told her. “And word from the wise; take that fire ruby along. Such a useful gem fire rubies are.”
“Alright... I'll be quick.” She turned and ran up the stairs.
Discord sighed and leaned back, again floating in the air, now alone in Carousel Boutique.
“What? I really am being honest. Oh, mortals and their little affairs... Foals cry over spilled milk and mortals cry over life and death. Really.”
Making it rain within days after Hearth's Warming was not an easy feat, but it had been arranged, nonetheless. Though a few deaths a week wasn't too unusual for a town the size of Ponyville, it was unusual enough for a pony so young, yet clear of the dangers of infancy, to die, that rain could be arranged to mourn the occasion. And as the sister of one of the Elements of Harmony, Sweetie wasn't without any notoriety.
Windows' shutters were latched shut and the streets were completely barren as they turned to a mix of snow and thick, black mud. A figure cloaked in deep black ran through the back alleyways and puddles to Twilight's castle. Completely invisible in the night, she was revealed only by flashes of lightning providing a brief glimpse of her shadowy form and sparkling red ruby she wore on her chest.
In a large reading room in her home, Twilight had taken her time to reflect when the rain had started. Now as she worked by candlelight, the sound of rain pattering against the glass windows had turned from a solemn reminder to a gentle comfort. The gentle glow from her candles flickered over six different chalkboards covered in magical theory and equations. Books and scrolls were scattered around the floor. She looked over another piece of paper with yet more notes, triple-checking her work. Owlowiscious stood on a perch in front of her.
“...and... got it!” Twilight stood up. “Okay Owlowiscious, it wouldn't be right for me to do this without making sure one last time... you're completely okay with this spell, right? There will be no negative consequences at all if you shake your head. But if you nod, for about a minute, you'll hear my thoughts, and I'll hear yours. Are you absolutely sure you're okay with this, despite the uncertainty I've explained to you?”
“Hoo.” The owl nodded.
She glanced back at all her notes one more time – a string of connected spells that would allow the two minds to touch each other directly. An owl may not be as intelligent as a pony, but that's where the excitement was – finding out what she would see, and how he'd respond to hearing the thoughts of a far more intelligent mind. She glanced back at her owl pet – perhaps one day to be more of a friend than pet – and her horn began to glow.
With a flash of arcane light, she felt her magic echo off of Owlowiscious – and nothing else happened. “You feel anything? Hear anything? Think or feel anything unusual?”
Owlowiscious shook his head.
“Hmm.” Twilight put a hoof to her chin and cocked an eyebrow, thinking for a few moments before stepping away to look over some of her notes spread across the floor at the base of one of the blackboards. “I was wondering about the translation from old Latin... Maybe I didn't capture the right essence of what the original phrase meant...”
Her eyes scanned over the ancient transcription, then to her modern Equestrian translation, furrowing her brows. “Ooh, oh oh, It's 'I wake as I dream', not 'as I dream I know', ugh – but it's ambiguous when you say it in old pony-Latin! But I thought for sure Haycartes' Cognito Ergo Sum discourse was ruled out in Barnes' previous work – but maybe after that he changed his mind and decided to incorporate some of that existential philosophy into his own work? Because with that change in phrase that whole spell takes on more of a metaphysical twist than a visionary one, even vaguely solipsistic...” she trailed off, turning back to the notes on Barnes' spell she'd translated.
Her ears perked as she heard the front door to her castle open. She whipped her head around, “Ouch!”, she cried as it twisted painfully far. She pulled a hoof up to her neck and rubbed it as she turned around, “Haha, maybe that spell worked better than I thought, I seemed to think I could turn my head like yours,” she told Owlowiscious, then chuckled uneasily.
“Hoooo,” he cooed.
“Well, I guess I better see who our guest is... Wait, how did I hear that from in here?” she asked, turning to her owl.
“Hoo,” he answered.
It was always a fun hit-and-miss guessing game to figure out exactly what Owlowiscious meant, but she always had a feeling, and this time, it was unusually clear. “Good point – I'll worry about that later, clearly some of that magic – ” she began walking towards the door to the large room, “ – but first, I should see who our guest is...”
Perhaps I should just teleport to the front door... But it's always kind of rude to jump in front of somepony. So she settled on just teleporting to a nearby hall on the second floor, and did it, appearing in the spacious hallway, a large open doorway to the atrium just ahead.
"Hello?!" she called out, hoping the uninvited guest could hear her through the open doors. After looking around and listening, hearing nothing more, she tentatively made her way down the enormous, dark royal carpet to the loft over the grand foyer. A minute later she found, by the front doors, a wet carpet and spots of mud. She gritted her teeth in concern, pondering the possibilities. A common thief wouldn’t think to rob a castle like this belonging to a princess wizard like myself, would they? When’s the last time Ponyville even had a burglary? Surely it’s something else. Maybe some lost filly hiding from the storm…
Hovering down to the ground level, she began following the spots of mud. She bit her lip. Cleaning this is not going to be fun or easy...
A great mess of spots was visible a few steps in, as if the uninvited guest had realized what they were doing and cleaned off as much as possible to stop leaving tracks. "J-just announce yourself! It's okay! You're not in trouble!..." she called out, then finished quietly to herself, "unless you're doing something bad..." her voice wavered with concern as she carefully went down the hallway, deciding to forbear from cleaning the carpet just yet, reserving her magic – just in case.
As she walked, she glanced around the various dark, looming chambers. I'm sure it's just my imagination... Nighttime and storms makes this place kind of creepy... I just need more lighting... She tried easing herself, yet nothing seemed to help the knot in her stomach. Surely if Rarity ran off to go read the book, Discord would've warned me?
Why hasn't he reported back yet, anyways?
Spike may be young, but maybe he would've been a better choice, after all. Rarity thinks he's cute and surely wouldn't hurt herself with him around, right? Ugh, but she would’ve just locked him out like any of the rest of us.
No matter, I'll get back to that after this...
She looked around the clean hallway after a short while of walking. The intruder had managed to clean themselves off very well, and after searching every small sideroom and seeing nothing, she decided to continue down the hallway to the library.
She finally arrived, walking slowly into the grand round room shelved high with books. The room was dark, and would've been black, except for the soft candlelight provided by the mounts on the walls. Rain pattered against the stained glass windows and thunder rumbled, granting the room both a cozy comfort and the eerie haunting of a dark mansion deep in night when faced by a small, lone pony.
"I... I should check," she muttered to herself, slowly stepping off the carpet, onto the crystal floor. "I-I mean, I doubt.... There's no way... But I should check."
She magically pulled the carpet to the side, revealing a trap door in the floor, and gasped when she saw the lock wasn’t on the latch. She rapidly tore the door open, and inside the dark, tiny room below, the Book of Knowledge was open in front of a hooded figure. The intruder whipped around to see Twilight – revealing Rarity's face under the black hood.
"NO!" the alicorn lunged at her with wings and magic, grabbing the book and pony in her telekinesis and tackling her friend to the ground. "Ooohf!"
She landed, pinning Rarity down.
“NO!” Rarity screamed back, and in a surge of magic, threw Twilight off.
Twilight's wings flared out, catching her in the air, and she quickly gripped Rarity again in her own magic, freezing her in place and suppressing her magic as she held her – Rarity’s forelimb halfway stretched to the book lying on the floor just out of reach.
And Rarity felt every bit of it. In an instant tears were running down her face. “No – you're not stopping me, Twilight! I have to – for Sweetie Belle! She'll die if I don't! You have to – ! You – you have to let me go!” she cried.
Twilight froze. In an instant it came back to her – her decision to keep the book here. She had already decided to let Rarity go. So why should she stop her? She had already made her choice. She opened her mouth to talk as her grip on Rarity weakened.
And Rarity felt Twilight’s wavering resolve. She immediately overpowered Twilight's magic plug on her horn with a yell, blasting past it with a flare of magic light, grabbed the book in her own magic, and flung it open towards her hoof.
“Rari-!” The alicorn saw the book flying to her friend in blue magic – but not before the book met the unicorn's hoof, and she was gone, leaving the book tumbling to the floor. She gripped it in her own magic, but it was too late. “-ty!”
Her heart sank as she realized what had happened. Rarity was gone. She was alone now. You – you couldn't just wait one moment to talk, first!?
No, of course not. She was smart to act fast. I was fighting her, so she took the one sure opportunity she had. Damnit, we could've gone together! You didn’t have to go alone!
She looked at the open book – there was a blue hoofprint glowing on the page, with words written above it in a strange script. She couldn't read it, but she felt, when she saw the script, that all she had to do to enter was put her hoof on the hoofprint.
Opposite the page more of the strange script started writing itself. As she looked at the text, she felt, cold, terrified, alone, but a fiery determination driving through it all. She shivered the feeling off. Okay, I promised I wasn't doing this alone, so I'm not!
Twilight didn't bother running. She grabbed the book in her magic, flinging it under her wing, then teleported straight to her dresser, threw open the top shelf, grabbed a long blond hair and a small gold stopwatch and clicked it. I have to make every second count. The constant ticking would remind her. She slipped the small gold chain on it over her head and wore it.
Each thing she held took focus, so she opened the book and threw the hair in it and shut it over it like a bookmark. She froze and her eyes went wide. She shouted an expletive as she realized what she'd done – opening the book again. She sighed with relief when she saw the hair was still there. She simply held on to it, instead. Okay, the book didn't eat the hair, but let's not take any chances!
Okay, I've got the book and AJ's hair. First pony, Rainbow Dash! Fast, adventurous and brave is what I need, she's the pony for the job! She charged her horn, and in a moment her bedroom was replaced with Rainbow Dash's. She whipped around to the bed - “Dash wake–” only to find the bed empty “- up?"
Okay, where's Rainbow? Is she home? “Rainbow it's an emergency!” she yelled.
No response. Her mind paced through other places Rainbow could be, the stopwatch continually ticking five ticks a second, rushing her thoughts. Okay, maybe her parents' for new years'? Maybe she was needed as a Wonderbolt on short notice? Or she's just out flying or some other option I didn't foresee – wait, wasn't she spending the night at Pinkie's or am I confusing this with last week? Maybe Pinkie knows where she is?
The two threads snapped together in her mind. Yes! Even if she's not with Pinkie, Pinkie will know where she is because Pinkie always knows!
For a moment her mind raced over every other pony and immediate friend – who would be more eager to save Rarity than Spike? That's exactly why he can't know. I can't drag him into this, he's a baby – or at least a child! She looked down at her stopwatch, her heart matching its rapid ticking. A WHOLE TWENTY-SEVEN SECONDS!? There's no time to get Spike, even if I was okay with dragging him into this horror death-book!
In another flash of light, she was in Pinkie's bedroom, and in the flash, another thought struck across her mind – oh no, and now I'm getting Pinkie involved! Maybe I should just leave and – no, I came here to ask, I spent energy on that teleport and I'm not going to let it go to waste! No time to deliberate, anyways! Every second AND every bit of magic energy has got to count!
“Pinkie!” she shouted.
Pinkie shot up in bed, eyes wide in terror at the sudden outburst. “Wha-huh!?”
“Rarity read the book, where's Rainbow Dash!?”
Pinkie groaned and flopped back in bed. “Twilight, I know you like books and all, but –”
“NO, THE book! The Book of Knowledge, that one I warned you and everypony else about!”
Twilight held her breath, waiting for a response.
In two seconds, ten of the stopwatch's rapid ticks, Pinkie shot up on top of her blankets with a gasp. “Oh, THAT book!? But didn't you say it would like kill you and murder you and stuff with fatal doom to DEATH!?”
“Yes! That one! And I'm looking for Rainbow Dash – do you know where she is?” she urgently pressed, leaning forward over the foot of Pinkie's bed.
“Yes! She's –...” Pinkie trailed off, bringing a hoof to her chin and looking up.
“Where, where!?” the alicorn took to wing, hovering just in front of her ground-bound friend.
Pinkie's face lit up. “Sleeping, because it's the middle of the night!”
“Pinkie, there's no time for these antics! You don't know where she is, so okay.” She looked down at the floor, her volume dropping. “I'll grab Applejack last because she'll be the fastest since I have her hair. Rarity's gone, that's you and AJ, we don't have time to find Rainbow Dash, so that just leaves Fluttershy.” She paused, pursing her lips, looking back at Pinkie.
The pink pony immediately objected, “Hey! I do too know where she is! I told you, she's sleeping! And why did you take Applejack's hair! That's so rude to leave a pony bald like that.”
“I checked Rainbow's house, she's not there and we don't have time to look for her – ugh, I mean I don't have time to look for her! I don't want to drag everypony into this! Just –” Twilight caught herself, realizing she already intended to grab Rainbow Dash and Applejack. “It'd be one thing if I could get everypony and we had all the Elements off of the Tree of Harmony with us, but we don’t! So the fewer of my friends I drag into this terrible mess the better!” Especially since it's all my own fault, anyways...
“Well, okay, since it's a big bad killing-to-death place we're going to rescue Rarity from, I can understand not wanting to take Fluttershy even if we normally do stick together on adventures. Then again she did save us against that dragon that one time...”
“No!” Twilight sternly cut her off. “I'm upset enough – maybe I warned her but I'm still not convinced it isn't my fault all this is even happening! If I just hadn't told everypony about that darn book!” She stomped a hoof. “I don't want to endanger any more of my friends with this whole catastrophe than I have to! I should've faced this alone! It's my burden to bear as –”
She was cut off as Pinkie threw her hooves around her, forcing her to immediately land on the bed on her hindlegs – but the hug kept her balance. “You're never alone, Twilight! You may feel bad about bringing other ponies to face the hard thing you gotta do, but we're not leaving you!”
Twilight sighed. “You're not. Okay, If you're this determined to come with me, I won't stop you.” Maybe I should; not stopping ponies is how Rarity got through in the first place. The stopwatch was still ticking madly, more than loud enough to hear. No time to deliberate, me! She's going to object and I'm going to waste precious time arguing with myself, then waste even more time arguing with her!
But I'm not going to let this spiral out of control – I'm not getting Rainbow Dash, anyways, since I don't have time to look, so I'm not getting everypony since all of us won't be going, anyways!
“But as for Fluttershy – we don't have time to go and ask Fluttershy if she wants to come. I only have so much energy and I need to save it, too. So I'm not going to get her and we're not arguing about this. Okay?” Her tone was final and frantic, filled with panic.
Pinkie leaned out of the hug, but still held on to Twilight's shoulders. “Okay, but I know you can't teleport without me if I'm holding on to you, so I'm not letting go!”
Oh, Pinkie. She couldn't help but smile a little, and return the hug, at least for a moment. But maybe you're right. After all, Rarity's problem was that she wouldn't let ponies help her... No time to deliberate. Applejack, and we're going.
In a flash of light, Pinkie's bed was replaced with the floorboards of Applejack's bedroom.
The sky was a deep, unnatural inky black, void of any detail. The high stone walls of a prison courtyard blocked anything else in the distance from view.
Wide, concrete brick-walled towers stood on each side of the courtyard – great gallows structures with four trap doors each. One had two ponies next to it, with two more armed guards by a beam near the edge, and a noose made of thick rope, hanging and ready. At the base of the tower a metal cart sat, its hatch open, revealing a stained inside.
At one end of the courtyard, a metal door opened, and a uniformed pony led a green-eyed, orange earth pony with a blonde mane into the courtyard. She squinted under the harsh light of spotlights flooding the yard. She was clothed in a plain, loose white nightgown cleaner than she was, wore a metal collar, fettered with shackles, and was closely followed by six guards, two of which held chains connected to her collar.
She shivered at the cold air, looked around the courtyard, and steeled herself on seeing the crossbeam that had rope, and the cart ready for her lifeless body. Her ears fell flat against her head in mortal apprehension. Her fears were confirmed.
“Th-this – this just... How could you? It's true, isn't it!? That every pony who vanishes – is this where they all end up!? And now – and now –!” she stammeringly demanded, indignation mingling with mortal fear, her ears standing back up as she fought with her tongue.
But none of the guards with her as much as flinched. They kept walking her to the metal stairs at the base of the tower. “But – but this can't be – you can't be killing me, I don't have the notches on the insides of my ears! Look, I've not been condemned!”
They continued to ignore her.
Two ponies on top walked into view, to the edge of the tower, looking down at her. “The major's pet princess is finally here,” a guard commented to his companions, then faced her, raising his voice to be heard, “The red carpet's all rolled out for ya. The whole yard for yourself in the few minutes you have left to live.”
“S-sister! I'm the major's sister!” she shouted.
The same guard barked angrily, “Who let her speak!? We need to –”
“Zip it, Blackstar. Things are a bit off today but that's all the more reason not to go rattling the cages,” another guard with a cap and a more ornate uniform calmly reeled in the other. “We have our orders.”
“Yes sir,” he simply responded, all the anger wiped cleanly from his voice.
Her ears flopped down. “I – I don't have the death marks! I demand a trial! I'm a full citizen of Hatten Dome! I'm not from Delphi! I'm not even under the occupational government! I'm from Hatten! I – I even have an Orphan of Heroes Award! I have privileges and I demand a trial! You can't just – based on nothing! Why am I here!? At least tell me why I'm here!” she cried as they led her up the stairs at the base, breaking her line of sight on the ponies already at the top. When one started speaking, she fell silent, listening intently as her right ear swiveled to the source of the sound.
“Eh, sir, should we gag her? She is speaking up,” another guard asked with a humbler voice.
“No, just last week somepony suffocated to death under one because their snout was tied too tightly. Reminder of our orders,” the leader's voice replied.
Both her ears perked up. They don't gag me because it could cause me to suffocate? “S-so you're not going to hang me!?” she shouted up. Again, her escorts did nothing to her, except hurry her pace up the stairs. “And – and you know it'd be illegal, too!”
The silence her words caused at the top was visceral and sudden. After a moment of pause, she could hear hoofsteps before the leader again appeared near the edge over her. “No, miss. We're supposed to hang you by the neck, not suffocate you with a gag. If you die on your way here, we cannot complete our orders to kill you another way. But you absolutely will die in the next minute. I suggest you either renounce whatever you said so you can spend eternity somewhere warm instead of somewhere as cold as The Abyss outside our domes, or at least come to understand why we must hold our world together against those who would tear it apart.”
She was finally on an equal level as she was pulled to the top step. “B-but what about my trial!? I was never even sentenced! See – no death mark! No slavery marks, either! I'm a high-standing citizen! I don't – I'm not supposed to be here!” she objected, a wild terror creeping into his voice.
The officer sighed. “No ear marks nor trial is necessary to kill a clear and present danger – we're on standing orders from The Governor herself. You were caught. If you're here, they had all the proof they needed and knew it'd be a waste of a judge's time, rest assured. I suggest you accept that nothing you do now can stop this. You're already dead, you're just waiting for your send-off.”
They began leading her to the trap door, where she saw the noose was already tied, waiting for her. She pushed back against them, but they easily overpowered her and pushed her harder, forcing her to step forward or be knocked over. She fought with a trembling voice, “I – I'm not going to beg for my life. But I demand a trial! This is wrong! I'm not supposed to be here! G-Gold Will is my name! This has got to be a mistake!”
He shook his head. “I'm sorry, miss. You made yourself a threat to the continued survival of all of us. It's too late, now. It's better that -”
“B-but I didn't! I just – I just went to see a unicorn! And I was in prison! I was helpless – harmless in that cell!”
“Look, miss, I've granted you the ability to speak, don't make me take that back. One more word about this and I'll have you silenced immediately. And this is far kinder than letting you starve to death in a cell,” he explained, only a slight indication of impatience in his voice. “And there's no way our civilization can afford to support you in there while also fighting the Unicorns' Great Winter.”
As he spoke, they stopped her over the trap door, slipped the noose around her neck, and the executioner carefully adjusted the position of the knot under her ear.
Her breathing quickened. “What does it matter if you silence me if I'm about to die! What do you think I'm going to talk about!?”
As she kept talking, he sighed, held a hoof out to another guard who gave him a small cloth, and walked towards her.
“I – I'm not going to hurt you, or anypony! I just wanted to know the truth! To see a unicorn fwomph-!” she was cut off as he pressed the rag into her mouth and tied the gag on while another guard removed the yoke-like collar from below the noose.
“I'm sorry, miss, this will make this easier for all of us.”
She yelled into the gag, her muffled demands still audible but impossible to understand. The rest of the guards sprang to work, forcing her to sit down while they tied her forelegs to her chest. She desperately fought their hooves – wriggling madly as though she could somehow escape. But they proved her wrong, finally blindfolding her and tying her back hooves together while she sat on her haunches.
Her breathing became even more irregular and harsh now as she could only breathe through her nose. She huffed hard to get enough air through her nose alone for her racing heart and panicked but helpless resisting. Her muffled cries ended as she quickly realized she was being completely ignored. Crimson Fire, if you don't get over here right now I'm never going to forgive you! I know you know I'm here – It's the only way I could've gotten a clean gown! You had to have been the one to send it to me! You – you gotta come! You must be why they didn't pierce my ears!
But this idiot's going to hang me, anyways!
She heard their hoofsteps move away from her, leaving her alone and tied on the trap door.
The same officer began speaking, loud and clear from more than a few hooves away. “I'm sorry you couldn't hold your own tongue, miss. It was a rare privilege you had. Usually it's over a dozen prisoner ponies here, and we can't let them talk lest they try to incite something. Now I know they all just have the same'ol lies of the unicorns. You wanted to see one, huh? I guess it probably got into your head with its magic, then, messed with your memories. I never should've let you talk to begin with. For all we know they could've even put a curse on you that activates when you say certain words – this is the kind of thing we have to protect ourselves from.”
She started shaking intensely. She felt sick to her stomach, hoping somehow it was just some nightmare and she could wake up. But it's not all a nightmare! The book, I read it! I read Clover the Clever's journal, I've spoken with Ceruleans, I know the unicorns aren't evil! That this is all unnecessary and wrong! Will they please just listen to me! I can't die like this, I can't – I can't!
He continued, “In truth you really are innocent. I'm so sorry, miss.”
She heard steps again as he walked over. She felt a hoof gently warp around her back. He projected his voice loud enough for the dozen guards to hear, “You were innocent, when you were alive, but the unicorns have already killed you. Ponies are here because they've been turned into unwitting suicide bombers against our civilization and our glorious order. Bombers of ideas and hope. I'm so sorry you lost it all to them.” She felt his hoof move up and rest on her head. “They've already destroyed the part of you that matters. All that's left for us is to end your suffering while protecting what you held dear when you were alive. In doing that, we're doing you a kind favor. You may be gone now, but we're preserving what you cared about when you were alive. Rest in peace, miss.” He gave one more pat before walking away again, speaking just a few more lines.
She was too terrified to even think any more. Without the ability to move, see, or even speak, how could she fight back – or even show defiance? There was nothing left to do, not even to show she opposed them. She felt some spirit left, but there was no place for it to express its existence.
“It's better that nine innocents die than one of these gets back into society, undermines it, and causes us the horrid, ghastly fate of Westhaven Dome, or of The Great Nightfall again, and millions more die. Ponykind is counting on us to do its dirty work and cleanse ourselves of these soulless, already-dead zombies like the one tied in front of us now. Dead, because whatever pure mind was in it before has already been gouged out by their dark, immaterial magic. This zombie is nothing but a shell possessing the body of what used to be a respectable, good, high-standing citizen. Hangpony, I remind you to review our orders.” She heard him tapping on a piece of paper. “We're merely letting her body rest from this wicked magical possession. For Spring to come, gentleponies.”
“For Spring to come,” they all echoed back in a familiar chorus.
She could hear somepony set their hoof on the lever.
She felt a tear tickle her cheek, her neck muscles tighten, bracing for the sudden drop of the trap doors, the free fall, then the hard kick in her neck behind her chin where the rope sat.
And then... nothing.
Nothing came.
Nothing happened.
No thunk of the lever being pulled.
No clanking of the trap doors.
No wind or constricting of the noose already around her neck.
Just the terrified sniffing of her own breath, the throbbing of her own heart pounding in her ears, and the electric buzzing of the lights above the platform.
A small eternity seemed to pass, but it was clear nothing was happening.
She tentatively asked something undecipherable through her gag. Is... Are - are you?...
Then she made a harsher demand. What are you waiting for!?
She couldn't move, talk, see – there was nothing to distract herself from her imminent death, nothing to do but wait the agonizing minutes away. She screamed into her gag again. Just hang me already! I can't stand this! Just make it stop!
Nothing. Absolutely no sound of anything came to her except the lifeless buzzing of the lights. Are they -? Are they even here?
She tried to struggle against her bonds and stand on her hind legs, only to hear a hustle of hooves and feel her shoulders quickly grabbed and pushed back down.
She fought.
She was bound, gagged, blindfolded, and wore a noose while she stood on a trap door, but the moment made her believe, if only for a second, that there was hope. So she fought to stand on two legs. For a moment she was winning – she could feel her legs overcoming the strength that pushed her down – until the hooves fell away and the noose yanked back on her, forcing her away from the pony pushing her down, pulling up to where she could only stand bipedal on one spot with her cross-tied hooves if she wanted to breathe.
So she stood there, her breath strained now, as well as panicked.
She cried into her gag yet again. What do you want from me!? What are you doing to me!? Why are you doing this!?
No answer, again. If you're going to kill me just do it already, don't just leave me waiting! she yelled into her gag again - her voice still muffled to the point of being undecipherable.
Another small eternity passed, leaving her to wonder. To grow more anxious and shaky. Balancing on two hooves was difficult – they were each only strong enough to take a quarter of her weight. She couldn't do it for much longer. They grew even more shaky than she was, threatening to give out underneath her.
If – If you won't, then I will! I – is this it? You'll make me kill myself!? But torturing me like this has nothing to do with what you said! More lies! More lies! she cried. Her hooves collapsed underneath her.
She only hanged on her rope for a moment, then it suddenly felt loose again, allowing her to collapse onto the wood floor. She could feel the grooves on the wood of the trapdoor. The noose pulled tight again, urging her up like a leash. She refused.
Why would they torture me on-stage like a unicorn?
The noose kept urging her up until her strained breathing was cut off.
She could suddenly hear her heartbeat and breathing again as it stopped pulling her up.
And that's all she heard.
That, and the harsh electric buzzing of the lights she couldn't see.
She just laid on her side. It was a struggle to move, so why do it? Would it mean they've broken me if I stood up when they pulled me up? Or if I keep lying down and refuse to get up?
Does it even matter?
I'm just... going to lie here, whatever they decide to do to me.
Eventually, after another long silence, she finally heard noises again. The sounds of two sets of hoofsteps coming up the metal stairs. Her ears perked – one set sounded familiar, something about the length and pacing of the strides and the weight under them. Then they stopped, and she could hear the whole crowd of ponies leaving the platform she was on. On hearing their hoofsteps fade away, she wiggled around to roll onto her back, then tried sitting up.
Nothing pushed her back down this time.
She heard the large hoofsteps approach her. Did you... Is it you? Did you finally come?
She felt a strong, familiar pair of hooves gently hold her, untie all her legs, unlock and release her shackles, then pull her up onto all fours. She froze and her mind hesitated, afraid to believe. She held her breath for the blindfold to be removed, and when it was taken off, with it went any doubt.
It was her brother, in full uniform and cap.
It felt like any strength or thread of dignity she had left immediately snapped. The nightmare was over. Her lip curled and tears immediately poured down – she couldn't keep from wailing and sobbing through her gag as he put his hooves around her, rubbed her back and started gently rocking her.
She could scarcely summon the strength to return the hug.
“We've ordered everyone but the governor and I off the tower, Goldie...” He reached behind her head and removed her gag, as well.
“Crimson!” She couldn't help but cry his name and bury her face in his chest again – only she could still feel the noose, like a voice nagging at her from behind her joy.
“It-It's okay, Goldie... We can turn this around. But I need your help so we can save you.”
“What is it!? I'll do anything, Crimson! Anything!” she jumped on the offer, lifting a forehoof to pull the noose off.
She gasped when his forehoof reached out to block hers.
“Gold Will,” he started sternly, demanding her attention with a strong look straight into her eyes.
She met the look, lowering her hoof, leaving the noose on.
“You aren't out of this, yet. I need you to...” he took a breath, bracing himself to say it, “We need you to pretend that none of this happened. That... that you never met the unicorn,” he quickly averted his eyes as he said it, then they snapped back on her, “that you never read that book, and tell us who you got it from,” he firmly told her.
Her pupils shrank. She knew he was lying about the unicorn – even after years of politicking in the service she could still tell. But the rest of it was true. Or, mostly. There was something nefarious and secret going on, and she could tell, but couldn't tell exactly what it was.
“And if you ever do tell anypony what's happened to you, what they'll do to you... I won't –” he cut himself off, glancing at the governor, pointing to her with his expression, “- she won't be able to stop what they'll do to you, and it'll be much, much, much worse than this. This was only meant to weed out future agents. But if you do commit the national crime of harm speech, we won't be able to counter the standing orders on that. So please. Feel the noose – it's not off you, yet. And if you plan to go back to this, hanging will be a relief compared to what they'll do to you, so you can't plan to ever come back to the dreadful acts that led you here. You have to leave these gallows behind for good,” he urged her.
Her ears flopped. Until what felt like hours ago, she wouldn't have believed that anything could've ever made being hanged feel like a relief. It was one thing to just – forget about all of this, to leave it behind. But to betray Astilbe? To turn her in?
But what about Sunshine and Crystal Clear? Why does he want to know who gave me the book but not the ponies who took me to see the unicorn!?
She shook her head in slow, agonized jerks as she tried to unravel the plot that had snared her.
I don't want to live in a world of lies! I would sooner die than live like this!
And I'll never betray Astilbe! The one pony who showed me truth!
But she couldn't bring herself to say the words that would condemn her to her fate again, either. “I – I...” She simply bowed her head.
“It's not much. Just a few words. Please, Goldie, I want to go home with you. It doesn't have to end here. We can walk off this platform together, and I want to,” he begged her, setting a hoof on her shoulder and looking straight into her eyes.
Her eyes grew wide and darted around as she took a step back – she wanted to be anywhere, to think of anything but here and now. She had her brother here – she wanted nothing more but to be comforted by him, hope he could somehow find a way to take her home without... She wanted to talk to him one last time, but couldn't answer his offer. “Look at you, in that nice uniform, now, with so many ribbons and at such a rank... You were so excited when our aunt and uncle got you lined up to train in the officer school...” she reminisced.
“Goldie...” he begged.
“You were so excited to protect and serve back then. Don't you know, before the invasion – it wasn't that uncommon for ponies to know unicorns here in Delphi! It's all just – it's just a farce! A game of lies! And here I was! –”
“Goldie!” he snapped, then immediately softened. “You don't have to lie. I just want you to... Just consider the possibility that your memory isn't as good as you think – that maybe – what if you did see the unicorn, and it messed with your memories with magic? Made you believe their propaganda and lies, and they're the ones who've –”
“Then it did a darn good job!” she snapped back. “No – he did a darn good job! HE! Don't you know they're ponies!? And maybe we didn't know any but we know ponies who did!”
“It's just lies and propaganda. They abused them, enslaved them, and right as we liberated this dome they used their magic – !”
“No it wasn't! Those are the lies and propaganda! When did you lose your darn common sense!” She was talking faster and louder as she went. “And now we're killing them! Innocent ponies! And we don't even know how many – thousands? millions? Who knows!? I used to think they only executed actual spies and saboteurs! And I was surprised and disturbed by how many they hanged in public! And then there's this whole, huge set of gallows hidden back here in the prison-yard!? That are usually busy with ponies getting killed left and right, no less!?” her anger quickly subsided into pure shock and sorrow, before turning back towards anger. “How many innocent ponies ended up here, Crimson!? Do you know!? Because I was innocent and I ended up – !”
“Goldie!” he snapped again, cutting off her wild tirade with a hoof pushing her chin up. “You're not 'innocent'! You collaborated with anarchists to meet that unicorn! That was a capital offense to conspire with them, and then to not report that you saw a unicorn to the authorities! We have to work together or The Abyss outside will kill all of us and everything we cherish! We all work together or we all die together! Scarlet, me, you, everything! You put all of our lives at major risk! And you're not going to convince the governor to let you live unless you tell us who told you how to meet the unicorn, where you got The Journal of Clover the Clever, and leave all this behind. Most ponies don't get this merciful chance, most just get – most just don't,” he quickly cut himself off.
“Th-then... it's true!?” She bristled, stepping forward. “And you've known it this whole time!? About those 'most ponies'!? And you'll –” her voice caught and broke, “you'll let me die because of some stupid law!? Your – your own sister!? You won't even let me take this noose off because you want me to hang from it!? D-don't you love me at all? Do I not matter –”
He immediately pulled her into a tight hug again, his voice emphatic and firm, overwhelmed with emotion. “I never, ever wanted to see you here, Goldie. You should be at home right now, or working the farms. Not here! But the world's an ugly place. We do what we must to survive against the winter –”
“Do you have to do this, though – do you?” her cries bordered on begging.
“We – I can't stop this from happening. Only you can. Just by telling us – or even just me, where you got the book from,” the gentleness of his own pleas matched the pain of hers.
“B-but then what will happen to that pony? Someone else will be here – because of me?”
“No, because they broke the law. They're the real criminal here, not you – you got involved with this and now they'll kill you for it if you can't just take this one, rare, merciful opportunity to set things right! Help us fight this endless, terrible unicorn's winter that's already killed millions! If you can't do it for your own life, do it for me? For the world? For spring to come?”
She shivered at the repulsive mantra – for spring to come, and stepped out of the hug. “But haven't you ever considered – maybe you're causing the winter with all this killing? Maybe some unicorns are, but why can't we work with the good ones? Why can't we be with them against the villains causing the winter – if anypony is causing it at all!”
“The Great Unicorn’s Winter has already claimed countless millions of lives and lasted a thousand years – and we're running out of time! The Great Nightfall proves it! The Domes are dying! And then we’ll all suffocate in the smoke, freeze in the cold and millions more will die and life won’t be able to go on! Don’t you get it - all life in the world will end if we don’t do this! We must live by these measures to prevent Westhaven from happening here!”
“It’s - it’s all lies, though! The mountains are enough, magicquartz -”
“Only makes the winter worse!”
“But that’s not true!” she cried.
“Excuse me,” the cyan, pegasus governor piped in, confidently striding up to the two in her regal, navy blue dress trimmed with gold. Her eyes were magenta, her mane bleached white.
They held eachother close as they faced her, each holding one limb around the other’s shoulders.
“You're not here to argue us into submission, Gold Will. You're here to die. There is no renegotiating the terms we have offered you. Only a 'yes' or a 'no'. We're offering you your life. It's quite simple, really. We can draw out your death as well. You looked quite broken when we first came up here. Perhaps you'd be more willing to talk after a little more breaking? Is that what you want?”
The Major's eyes were wide and frantic as he looked at his little sister. His voice had a desperate, hissing urgency. “Goldie, please. Please, you have to tell us! You-you don't want to go through this! They can do things to you a million times worse than whatever made you lie on the ground when we arrived up here. Do you want that – whatever they did to you – do you want that for years? And they'll - we'll get what we want, anyways.”
In-between the cyan governor's cool confidence and her brother's panicked warning, she began to shake again. But she could see her pink friend, Astilbe, in her mind, with her sweet kindness and eternal optimism and hope. The source of truth for so many others, too. She could never let her take her place on these gallows. “I... I won't... I won't tell either of you... ever,” her quaking voice pierced the silence.
“Gold Will –” he began urging again.
“No! I promise I won't!” she stomped a hoof. “And you know I never break a promise!”
He fell silent, mouth open, looking for something to say.
The governor just sighed sadly. “Very well. No point in wasting any more of our time, then...” she paused, diving into thought for a long, painful moment of silence as the two siblings waited for her next command. She met both of their eyes, both brother and sister equally afraid. “I hope you understand, Major, she has to be tortured for this information. And once she finally breaks, she will be swiftly executed to relieve her of her mortal agony.”
“M'am...” he started, trying to force strength into his quaking voice.
“But for your sake, Major, I will forego the torture in favor of a quick, painless, neck-breaking hanging. Consider it a reward for your, and your parents' loyal services to The Order. There are times when mercy may show its face, and to someone like you, I feel you deserve this one. And miss,” she turned to her, “I will recognize your parents' sacrifice in service to The Order and honor you with this word of advice; I suggest you stop arguing and talk like you're already dead. You can do no more to save your life now than you could if you were already hanging. So this is a moment for you to say goodbye, and for your brother's sake, please do use it for this purpose – or to change your mind on the information.
“I am aware of your Orphan of Heroes award and Hatten Citizenship. I have honored those here by giving you this opportunity to save your own life, but since you won't take it, there's nothing I can do. Now I will speak no more, this time is for you and your brother. The hangponies will come, and nothing will stop them when the clock-tower begins to toll. Your neck will be broken on the sixth strike. Farewell,” she nodded, turned away, spread her wings, and strode straight off the side of the platform. She glided through the air, down to the edge of the courtyard below and gently landed on her hooves where the rest of the guards and executioners were waiting.
The siblings just looked at each other. “I-is that it, then?” he asked her. “You've made up your mind?”
“Y-yeah,” she stammered, yet her voice was calmer than it had been since she arrived in the courtyard. “Yeah I have.” She averted her gaze, unable to meet his.
He stepped forward, took the noose off of her, and hugged her again. She felt a kiss on her forehead.
“I-is it true?” she timidly asked. “Is... is that really it? Nothing more you can do? Can't you – I dunno, fight back or anything? Anything to save me? I-I don't want to die!” She returned the hug.
He squeezed. “I'm sorry...”
“I don't want to ever have that horrible rope on again! Even if you don't think The Order is awful, can't you order those guards to – let us out? Let us go? for me?”
He shook his head. “Go where? If I did that, a lot of innocent ponies, and you, would all die. And they'd probably kill Scarlet for something as treasonous as that, even, despite our parents' sacrifice,” he levelly cautioned.
“H-how are you so strong, Crimson? You've always been so strong...” She started sobbing uncontrollably. “I – I'm scared. I don't want to die. How can I be like you and be brave?”
“It – it's okay... It's okay to be scared, and to cry, Goldie.” His own voice was now beginning to quake. “It – it was my duty... I'm... I'm sorry, I can't... I just...” his quaking began to break into sobbing, “Despite everything I wasn't strong enough for you...” She felt his hooves flinch. Now she began patting his back. “I wasn't strong enough... and I'm going to miss you, Gold Will...”
Something began to move within her. She felt the shift. When she'd heard him begin crying, she froze in shock, but her freeze began to thaw, and her own quaking calmed.
“T-thank you,” she said, breaking through her crying to a more stable voice. “I – they didn't beat me, Crimson. They didn't abuse me before taking me here... That's because of you, isn't it?”
He shakily nodded. “M-mhm...”
She began rocking him, “And you sent me a clean nightgown and diapering cloth, and they even let me have water…”
“Y-yeah, you... I know that nightgown is your favorite… I won’t let them stare at – or handle your body. I’ll get you a nice coffin to rest next to mom and dad, and… would you… would you like... a last bedtime story before I leave you in the mausoleum? – When I lay you there?” he gently offered as she comforted him.
“That… would be nice,” she answered, her voice growing weak again. “I didn’t think they let executed ponies be put in…”
“N-not normally, but - the governor will let this be an exception, and I won’t let aunt Dawnfire tell me no on letting you rest by ma and pa… I’ll read you your favorite story, about the wise and foolish princes, and the dragon and the drake...” he tenderly told her, hugging her back with a squeeze.
“I’ll… I promise I’ll be listening... Thank you.” It came easily by now – the last thing she wanted to think of was her unavoidable death. Thinking about it from his perspective made her forget, even if only a little, that she was the one who would be dead. She could pretend she’d still be alive. So she thought over everything he’d done for her. “Thank you for the little extra dignity, and thank you for not letting them handle my body. Thank you for letting us meet again, and talk. You've done a lot. You did more than just save me, you – ” her own voice broke for a moment.
She continued, “ – You let me talk to you one last time, and that's more than enough, it's more than I could ever ask for. And I'll – I'll see you again. I really believe it. In a warm world much better than this one. I – I know you aren't sure about all those beliefs, but the things I've learned these last few weeks... Honestly, I think it's worth it. I'd rather see the world how it really is – see through all the lies and fog – and taste the truth, even if just for a few days, and then... I'd rather this than keep living lost in lies... Look at me, getting all poetic, what are you doing to me, Crimson?” she finished with a lighthearted tease through her teary eyes.
The music of a distant clocktower rang through the air, as a small herd of ponies hustled up the stairs to the tower. The bell would ring a small tune, like a grandfather clock, before striking the hours, and the guardsponies rushed to be ready to make the governor's statement true. The weight of her body would snap the rope taut on the sixth toll.
“You did it,” his wavering voice told her. “You found out how to be brave. Look at you, comforting me,” he pulled back from the hug just far enough to look her in the eyes.
“I'm still scared...” Yet her voice lacked the pitiful smallness from earlier. It had taken on some calm, yet powerful tone. “But – seeing you break down – it just – I guess it made me realize I don't care about my own death more than I care about seeing you like this. You've always been so strong for me, so seeing you start to cry –” now her voice began to weaken, but only a little, and it quickly found strength again, “ – I can't see you hurt this badly. But I can't send – I can't send another pony to their death, either. I know – they probably have a family, too...”
The bell's music ended. The others were already up on the tower with them.
“Please do me a favor?” she asked, her voice soft and caring, and devoid of fear as a guard stepped in and put the noose back on her. She obediently sat down on the trap door, not offering any resistance.
The bell tolled once.
“Of course! What is it?” his voice was almost as quiet, though filled with an eager obedience, wanting to hear what she had to say in the seconds she had left.
The bell struck a second time, and they began hurriedly tying her forelegs to her stomach while he still had his hooves on her shoulders.
“Please don't cry,” she asked, pausing for a moment, then correcting herself.
The bell struck a third time.
“Or – if you do, just be strong in the end and forgive yourself, okay?”
The bell rang a fourth time, and her forelegs were tied.
He sprang forward and squeezed her in another hug, the two guards stepping back, their work finished.
“Of course! -” he answered.
“I love you!” They both said in sync.
“Sir, please step off the trap door!” the officer urged.
The bell rang a fifth time.
They squeezed harder, one last time, and he planted a firm kiss on her cheek, making her smile one last time.
“SIR!” the capped guard commanded, his hoof on the lever.
In a single moment, Crimson stepped back off the trap door, away from his sister, and she fell.
She felt the air rush by, and never heard the sixth strike of the clock-tower, but felt the rope jerk like a strong buck to her neck.
She sprang up in bed with a yell.
Applejack's head spun as she made sense of what she saw – her bedroom at Sweet Apple Acres. Pinkie Pie and Twilight were upright and hugging just off the foot of her bed. “Applejack! Rarity read the book!” the princess frantically started.
She felt her cheeks soaked with tears and her body weak and shaky, but the memories faded away as quickly as confusion and anger set in – being ushered in at an accelerated rate by the frantic ticking of a stopwatch Twilight carried. The farmhorse's voice ramped up from tired, groggy and weak to angry to the tempo of the incessant ticking, “Y'all are usin' magic an' poppin' in on my room in the middle'a the night just 'cause Rarity read some book!? Wait! – ” the realization came over her at the same time that she saw the Book of Knowledge floating next to Twilight. “THE book!?”
Panic and memories of all the warnings and decisions around the book flooded into her mind, washing the otherworldly memories out.
“Yes!” Twilight emphasized, opening it towards AJ. “All we have to do is put our hooves on the mark here and we're off!”
She quickly trusted that if Twilight was flashing it in her face it was safe to look at. The page had a blue, glowing outline of a hoofprint – not a horseshoe print, but the hoof itself. Above it was some fancy curly language she couldn't begin to make anything discernible from, but oddly enough, she understood it. She blinked in confusion – she'd never seen the scribbles in her life before, yet she clearly understood them to mean, “put your hoof on the mark to follow into a horrible, cold world after Rarity. One that will seem familiar to you.”
“At least I think,” her bookish friend added, turning the book to look back at it, herself.
As soon as the text left her sight, AJ completely forgot what the scribbles even looked like – though the message was still clear in her mind.
“Aiight.” The workhorse immediately slipped out of bed, grabbed her lasso, wrapped it over a shoulder, and put her hat on. For some reason, the sight and feeling of the rope made her shudder, but she ignored the odd repulsion to her lifelong trusty tool. No time to bundle up my mane with hair bands, we gotta go. “So all three'a us gotta put our hooves on that print at once, or what?”
“I think as long as we're all touching, want to go, and even just one of us touches the page, then that'll do it. The text here – it's definitely some strong magic! Universal language! – but I think that's what it's saying,” she explained as AJ prepared, taking another glance at the text. “Nevermind that the magic can literally mind-read – I mean magically normally works by intent but to actively measure – eh, nevermind that, we need to hurry!”
Despite her reluctance to fuss with her mane, she still grabbed a few red hair bands, putting them in her hat and put her hat back on her head. This is a good way to carry'em. Maybe if we get a moment to pause I can put'em on – it does help to keep the hair outta my face if the wind's wrong, and keep it from gettin' caught in things. “So you used my hair to get here and all?” she asked.
Twilight's head perked up. “What – oh my gosh! I've been in such a rush I forgot! Or wait – I was arguing with Pinkie!”
“But you're not bald so what's going on!?” Pinkie cried.
“I just took one hair, Pinkie, and – I put AJ's hair in the book! I don't think the book did anything to it – I'm in a hurry and under a lot of pressure and it's like four in the morning, okay?! Let's just get going!”
Her bedroom door creaked as Applebloom walked in. “What in Equestria is goin' on in here? Did some'a your friends just pop on over? Is there a fire or somethin'!?”
“Uhm, we got some serious business to take care of is all – real important, we're in a real hurry. Friendship princess stuff,” AJ explained.
She felt an odd twinge on seeing her little sister – like she missed her. But I just saw her an' said goodnight a few hours ago...
But she couldn't shake the feeling she'd just gotten out of some terrible situation where she'd never see her again. It gnawed at her stomach.
The filly yawned. “How long you gonna be gone? Do you gotta go now?” She propped up an eyebrow as she looked around the corner and saw Twilight with her stopwatch, her ears swiveling to the source of the ticking.
“Yes, we're already running late! We've got to go - ” Twilight gasped. “Two minutes ago! Come on, everypony, hurry!”
Big Mac's head popped into the hallway.
On seeing him, Applejack felt the odd feeling again – but this time it was more than a mere twinge. “Big Mac!” she excitedly greeted. It was a sweet delight to see him – even beyond the familiar friendliness. She missed him, just like Applebloom. She tried to brush the feeling aside, but piling on top of the feeling already there from Applebloom, she couldn't hold back any longer. “Get o'er here!”
“Somethin' wrong?” he asked, slightly startled as he trotted in and she dashed up to greet him with a hug. He returned it, though not with the same enthusiasm.
“No, just – I dunno, bad dream is all,” she dismissed, though her voice rode the edge of breaking.
“I'm sorry we really don't have time for this!” Twilight urged.
Big Mac tried to pull away, but AJ went in for one more hard squeeze before letting him go. “Uh – sorry, just missed ya real bad. Or uh – I dunno how long we'll be gone. I really don't. That, too.”
She turned to Applebloom standing next to her, and gave her the same treatment she'd just given her brother. “Y'all take care, ya'hear? Just in case. But it shouldn't be more than a few minutes! If we're longer, uh...” she glanced back at Twilight. The alicorn was grimacing widely, shaking her head. She turned back to her brother. “Then tell Rainbow and Fluttershy we read the dangerous book. That's all! I'll see y'all later, g'bye, now!” She released her sister and stepped back towards her friends.
Twilight quickly glanced in-between the book and Applejack's siblings. “We'll read it somewhere else, I don't want it lying around for other ponies to stumble on – when Rarity read it, she left it behind, so presumably we'll leave it behind, too, when we do.” She charged her horn.
“What book – that book?” Applebloom asked, giving the strange tome a confused look.
“Be safe!” Big Mac called out.
And in a flash, they were gone, leaving the night as silent as they had found it.
Gold Will blinked. There were no restraints on her. The noose around her neck was gone. The air was warm. Long blades of grass came up to her belly, tickling her as they were blown by strong gusts of air. Her nightgown had been replaced by a wide-brimmed straw hat and a loose, white sundress.
Her eyes went wide at the sight above her. The sky was brilliant bright blue, a million points of light shone within it. Some almost hurt her eyes to look at with their intensity, while others were barely visible. An enormous cluster of the points sat close to the horizon.
She let herself fall backwards onto the soft grass and laugh, tears coming to her eyes at the brilliant sight. It was the same ecstasy of the first sun-house she'd ever seen, all over again. She lost herself in the glorious display of a million sparkling points of light for what felt like a short eternity, before sitting up and looking around herself again.
The horizon was close, with only a few blocky, towering mountains of rock in the distance. The air was clear like the inside of a dome, yet warm and lit with brilliant light like the roof of a sun-house. Faint memories echoed from her fillyhood, but she couldn’t remember more than a feeling of joyful bliss. As she scanned around, she yelped in surprise when she saw a pony nearby – with both the wings of a pegasus and horn of a unicorn – sitting next to a blanket spread on the grass that had a wooden basket on it.
As amazing as the strange hybrid was, stranger still, she looked identical to Gold Will. Her eyes were closed, and she was sitting and smiling, wearing an outfit similar to her own, but had a scarlet bow on her right arm and a gold plate necklace.
“Don't be afraid. I’m a friend. I’ve been waiting for you, Gold Will,” the hybrid called out to her. Her voice was like her own, but carried a gentle, but powerful confidence. “Come, sit with me.” She opened her eyes, and looked at her.
Gold Will hesitantly stood up, and started walking over. As she did, she noticed the distant mountains in front of her didn't move quite right against the horizon with the hills around her – the pony that called her had the blanket spread out on what looked like a peak of a hill.
But as she came closer, she began to realize there were no hills beyond it, before finally realizing with a gasp – that the blanket rested a stone's throw from a cliff, and far below spread out to a grand vista of open, sparkling water that met land nearby. The lights in the sky reflected off the ocean below like an enormous mirror, creating a second sea of lights.
“It's called an ocean, and far above – those are the 'stars' you heard so much about. But I picked a special world - the sea is much calmer than it ever was on yours, and the stars far brighter. Together the stars act as the sun, bringing a warm summer day. You remember, don’t you?”
She blinked as the memory came back to her as though it had happened hours ago. She was a mere foal at the time - but she could remember before The Great Nightfall in Hatten. “Y-yes. I remember! I remember now! - what the domes were like before they went dark! But where are we? How did I get-...” she cut herself off. Somehow, if only for a moment in her excitement, she’d forgotten.
The pony gave her a sympathetic look. “Come, have a seat,” she invited with a warm smile.
Gold Will walked over, catching another long glance at the glimmering ocean as she went.
The other pony unpacked the basket, then just sat and waited silently, taking in the ocean view, herself. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she eventually asked.
Goldie snapped back to attention, realizing she’d lost herself in the mesmerizing sight. “Yes, but-” she turned to the other pony, “did you say it’s another world? Who are you? How did you know I was… ‘coming’? What does that even mean? Why do you look like me!?” She felt a gnawing fear in her gut she couldn’t let lie. “...Is this just in my head or am I…?”
“One at a time,” she gently chided, raising a hoof. “It’s another world, yes. There’s more wonders in the heavens than a mortal mind could imagine. I’ve spent eternities in awe and study. And I knew you were coming because I heard it.” She looked up at the stars. “All of existence rings with a song of Harmony. If you learn to hear it, then there is nothing you cannot know or do. It is a song of guidance, knowledge, and power.”
She only faintly grasped the metaphor, but she did. “Can I hear it?”
The pony faced her again. “You’ve begun to, a little. But it will be awhile yet before you can sing it, but you will. As for the reality of this place… it is just as real as the world you came from. It’s no delusion - you gave your life to finding truth, so your mind would rather accept death than lie to itself, so you wouldn’t fool yourself like that.”
“But… how can I be sure?” she asked. “At any moment, what if I just - just -...” She was suddenly shaking.
Deep, loving gentleness and honesty showed in the pony’s eyes as she put a hoof on Gold Will’s shoulders. “You will never cease existing. Memories are made and fade, moods and sensations come and go. But your soul,” she looked over to the stars and waved a hoof over them, “shall outlast this world and the stars in the heavens, and all that will come after them.
“For without a dreamer, there is no dream. Without a beholder, there is no reality. You and I both - and all other beings - are the beholder. You are existence itself. Gold Will is just one manifestation of it. An existence that doesn’t exist is an impossible contradiction, so you will last forever, and already have.”
Gold Will's confusion grew, though she had stopped shaking. She didn't understand fully, but at least there was some answer, and that was enough for now. But now of the questions that flooded her mind, one stood clearly above the rest. “Who are you?”
“I’m someone who has woken up a little more than you, and I am you, and you are me.” She took her hoof off her shoulder and gently explained, “I'm a pony in a position... that your world had no real concept of. You worked in gardens your whole life, so let me explain with this story...
“I knew the plants you grew. Every so often they felt warmth touch them, and their roots gently handled, and their fruits plucked. One plant called this Vishnu, and imagined it was some being that created its world. Another called it Zeus, and imagined it was a being like itself that only wanted sunlight, water and to grow. Another called it Ra, and believed it brought the warmth and light that it experienced on its leafs. Another called it God, and believed it was omnipotent, omniscient, loved and looked over its world.
“All of these plants come to you, asking if you are each one of those things. Are you?”
“Oh, I see...” Gold Will answered.
The pony's voice bore no conceit or arrogance, only the tone of a genuine, kind, and patient explanation, continuing as a mother to a daughter, “to you, Gold Will, I am The Gardener, and this –” she waved her hoof over the sky, “– is my garden. Except unlike plants, you can – and will, become like me eventually when you grow up. I'm just... a little older.” She smiled at her, then poured some tea into two teacups. “Please, try some,” she offered.
Gold Will looked down at the spread – on the blanket was an assortment of scones and biscuits on small plates, two cups on saucers and a teapot, all made of a gold-trimmed, ornate ceramic. Whatever this being was, she knew she didn't want to displease her, nor did she have any reason to reject her kindness, so she accepted her offer.
What's the worst that could happen? I'm already dead... Aren't I?
But…
A light breeze punctuated her hesitance. “I… I promised my brother I’d listen to him… Can I do that? Listen to him read me a bedtime story...” she felt her face flush a little and her ears fold. “For - for his sake, of course…”
“Of course,” she answered with a gentle, knowing smile, “but later will be a better time to say goodbye than now. I wouldn’t want the shock of this encounter to drown out your deep feelings for your brother, as they would if we had this conversation after he reads to you... Now, try some of the tea!” her tone turned jovial as she urged excitedly, like an eager filly trying to show her mother a drawing.
The tea was an odd, orange-ish white color she didn’t recognize, but the smell was tempting, and she couldn't turn down the strangely adorable excitement. She took a sip as The Gardener did the same. She didn't recognize the taste, but it was tangy and fresh, yet sweet, and a host of other things she didn't have words for. “This-this is amazing! I – nothing like this existed that I can remember!... You really are some kind of god, then?” she asked.
The Gardener chuckled. “The tea isn't that good. It's just herbal mandarin orange with sugar and a milk base... But I'm glad it's good enough to make you think I'm a 'god',” she gently joked.
Despite everything, Gold Will couldn't help but laugh. It was as though her life was nothing but a nightmare, and now she got to wake up and have fun again. It nagged in the back of her mind that she was leaving her entire life behind, but it was easy to ignore with so much overwhelming her at once.
“Try some of the biscuits. If the tea made you think I'm a god, I'm not sure what the biscuits will do,” The Gardener flashed her a smile like playful filly.
Gold Will couldn't help but chuckle in response at the pure, almost innocence of the being’s joy. She looked down at the blanket and took a scone. It had small bits of squishy flavor – again her mouth was alive with things she had never before experienced, that she had no words to describe or even imagine – it was entirely new. She wolfed it down then swallowed with another sip of the tea.
“Raisins. Dried forms of a fruit lost to your world, but that used to have it. One of my old favorites for snacking.” The Gardener explained with a smile. “Just wait until you taste apples. Those are great! But you can try one of those a little later...” She looked down and took one of her scones, herself, taking a hearty bite and groaning with delight as she ate it.
The enthusiasm and pure joy she ate with made her seem even more like a child. "You know... you're... not quite what I would've expected from a god."
She pulled up a hoof to cover her mouth as she finished chewing while she asked, "Oh? But what is a 'god'? This is why I didn't want to be called that, and gave that whole parable with plants and all. I mean, it's not wrong, but it carries a lot of connotations and misunderstandings."
"Hmm.” Gold Will looked down for a moment, thinking back over that part. “I dunno... It's just, you're some almighty being who can create and destroy worlds with a thought, right? You said reality is just a dream, and a garden you tend, so, does that mean you can just... bend reality like a dream?”
“Something like that,” she confirmed with a nod.
“Isn't that a god?"
The one who'd just been called a god swallowed the last of her treat, leaned over to Gold Will and tapped her on her chest, a playful smile on her face as she looked her younger self in the eyes, "then you are a god already."
She leaned back to her previous spot. "Imagine a world where the ground is made of biscuits. Now picture in your head, this world explodes. There, you just exercised the power of creating and destroying worlds with a thought. I'll admit It's not the same as all this, though," she acknowledged, nodding and glancing around their surroundings, "but it's a start. You can practice with sandcastles before building stone castles.
“And I like building sandcastles… A child instinctively knows the joy of life – of building a sandcastle. They don't think it's work, how they must move material and be careful not to break their creation. They just take joy in building, despite the fear of failure or the fact that it won't last forever..."
Gold Will spent a moment looking at her cup, swallowing all she'd been given before speaking again, "That's... that's what I mean about 'you're not quite what I expected from a god'. I guess I expected throne rooms, maybe a parade to your greatness and glory - the supreme commander sure loved parades. But you talk about sandcastles and tea and make jokes and eat scones with some newcomer..."
"I have my parade and my glory -" Her voice was soft with emotion as she set a hoof on Gold Will's shoulder, "- right here. Oh, Goldie. Castles, armies, parades and uniforms aren't even real – they are but a dream, and dreams fade away. But while dreams fade, dreamers awake, still existing, ever eternal."
The Gardener moved so that rather than sitting across from her, she was sitting next to her right side. She put her left foreleg back over Gold Will's left shoulder. "And you mistake joy for childishness. The greatest state of existence is joy – a joy mostly forgotten from your world, except in children! I’m just happy to be with you! To get to speak to you directly like this!" She brought her other hoof to Gold Will's shoulder and hugged. "And you did so well, too! You know that? You really made me proud back there, Gold Will."
The dead pony just blinked in surprise at the hug from this strange, childish being – this god – that was some future form of herself. But her words began to sink in. The politicians who ran her world wanted parades, honor and power. But this god-being saw them for what they were. Nothing but a dream. And she loved her – none of their powerful armies or grand palaces impressed her – they weren't even real to her, but she was proud of her, of all ponies?
The Gardener pulled out of the hug to sit next to Gold Will again. “Really, those governors and commanders – they make me sad,” she said, genuine sympathy coming to her voice, “they grasp for meaning, and find only the lonely pit of narcissism, and the despair of resentment. But in your last moments and many others, you conquered narcissism, despair and resentment, and broke free of those bonds forever. You knew what meaning and joy is, and many of them never taste anything half as sweet in their palaces and grand chambers, as you tasted on that tower, in your brother's hooves...” she reflected, a gentle sweetness in her voice.
She shuddered at the memory. “Can't I...” she hesitantly started, The Gardener herself giving her a terrified look now, knowing what she would ask, “can't we go back and change that?” she asked.
“No,” she replied, her look suddenly intense, dark, and solemn, averting her gaze into her own teacup. All levity was far gone as she muttered darkly, “Why would you want to remove the most meaningful moment in your life? Because you shrink from suffering? Yet, we can do that – remove that meaningful suffering. And one day we will. And in that day you will see why I want to say 'no'. Now, perhaps you only see some vague shadow of how some suffering is necessary for meaning. But one day I will take you on that dark, terrible, horrible road at your request, and you will see clearly...” She looked back to her younger self, her gentleness returning, “But today is not that day... Is that okay with you?” she sincerely asked.
Gold Will hesitantly nodded.
“I'm sorry,” The Gardener apologized, the heaviness and darkness vanishing, but not yet back to her chipper self. She continued respectfully. “All in due time. Once your journey to that world from where you came is through, you will have experienced what is needed to see, and I will show you. But for now, rest a little, in the hooves of your brother and your grandmother – if you are ready, the time has come for you to fulfill your promise to your older brother, that you would listen to his bedtime story. But I must warn you... It comes at a heavy price.
“When we go, we will leave all of this behind. You'll forget your time here for a season, and move on, until you remember again. Gold Will will truly die, but only for awhile, and you will enter your next life. Your entire life as Gold Will will be forgotten...”
Goldie was immediately taken aback by the offer, her ended life suddenly returning to her mind. “I - but - what about meeting my parents here, if this is the afterlife? Or being here to greet Crimson Fire and Scarlet when their times come? Or to meet Astilbe again where I can properly thank her for the journal? Why do I have to forget all of that?”
The Gardener's tone was not judgmental, condemning, condescending nor cold, but factual, and still laced with patience, “I could explain to you that it would hold you back from experience, and learning about meaning, but my words will seem shallow and devoid of meaning until you experience it. So for now, I can only ask you trust me that one day you will understand if you choose to. And you will, when we meet again. But there is another reason that will hold at least some meaning to you;
“To truly understand reality, you will learn to speak, walk, talk, and live all over again, because you will learn them differently than you did before. Your tea will taste different to you, voices will sound different, and you will never have learned to dread the word ‘spring’. Instead, it will be a delight to you.”
She shivered as she remembered the mantra The Order of the Hatten Vanguard loved so much, for spring to come.
“You will not spend eternity without the chance to learn what it is like to grow up on a sunny farm. You will have that chance. You are growing up on a sunny farm right now. You have grown up on a sunny farm already. Since this place is chronologically disconnected – a separate reality from any other – there is no measure of time in-between here and there. So do not dread eternity, Gold Will, as some endless chore to work through. You have already spent it as Applejack. It is already done. And yet you still have it to look forward to.
“And that means each time you come back here will be unique. You are in your first life and your last. The nth and the second, the nth plus one, and infinitieth infinity. Time has no meaning across realities – for your memories are your only clock across them. But since you will forget this meeting, the time will be endurable, for it has already passed.”
Gold Will felt small and lost - she could scarcely imagine or understand - then she remembered how quickly she’d forgotten her entire life just minutes ago as they had laughed. Then she understood, but only slightly, as some vague idea.
“As for meeting again the ones you love - I’m afraid it’s not quite time for you to re-unite with your parents, yet… Your time with that world is not finished. This is not the end of your life, really, only an intermission. Because your next life spans two worlds, you are two in one, and you have yet to live as the other. But Big Mac and Pinkie are already in the world I will take you, and Applebloom will come shortly. You will get to live your life with your family again - but this time, in a world brilliantly lit with sunshine every day.”
It struck her that she somehow knew Big Mac was Crimson Fire, Applebloom was Scarlet and Pinkie was Astilbe, but the thought was wiped from her mind as she was told she would get to see the sun. “The sun!? The sun gone from my world!?”
“Yes,” The Gardener nodded with a small smile. “It is greater than you can imagine, and you will see it so much you will take it for granted often. The very word ‘day’ will even have a completely different meaning to you.”
She felt ready to excitedly leap for The Gardener’s hoof - living with her family in a world that still had its sun? It was almost impossible to resist.
But she hesitated.
“...But will I forget how much I love them? Crimson and Scarlet? I won’t take them for granted like the sun, will I? And will my parents - will they still be around? Since there’s summer there wouldn’t have been The Delphi War, or even the domes at all, so...”
The Gardener solemnly bowed her head and spoke heavily, “Choose one or the other. Since you will forget this conversation, I may tell you plainly, if your parents are alive, you won’t love Big Mac or Applebloom as you loved Crimson Fire or Scarlet. In place of maternal care for Applebloom will be jealousy for your parents’ attention, and so will Big Mac feel towards you and Applebloom both. There will be some familiarity, but nothing compared to the bond you have with them now.”
Gold Will was frozen.
The elder being raised her head with a sympathetic look, “It’s a hard decision to make, I should not have asked you to -”
“No! I’ll…” now Goldie bowed her head, thinking for a moment before facing her older self again. “If this is tied to my past life in some way… Will I ever get to meet my parents?” she asked.
The Gardener nodded. “That you cannot now is a rare and hard exception.”
“Then… I’ll go through that. I know what it’s like to not have mom and dad around… but to not have Crimson or Scarlet?”
The Gardener nodded. “It is decided.” She put a comforting hoof on the mortal’s shoulder, looking into her eyes. “You’ve made a hard, and wise choice yet again. And have courage - because of this choice, those you love so much, and the bond you have with them, will endure. You will not dread this journey as an endless chore to wade through - you will find contentment and love in your life in Equestria, and when the time is come, you will remember all. Now come, keep your promise, then forget and begin the second part of this journey.” She offered her hoof.
She paused for a brief moment, looking at the brilliant display of stars, contemplating forgetting her entire life.
But Crimson Fire and Scarlet would be there for her. That would be enough.
She felt the stars call to her. As fantastic as this place is… I want to see them again. There’s noone here for me, except this ‘Gardener’ asking me to leave.
This is some palace of gods. I don’t belong here. I belong with my family.
She took her hoof.
The Gardener smiled at her. “One day you’ll belong here, Goldie. The second time we meet will be solemn, but the third, we will stand shoulder-to-shoulder.”
The world melted away around them, replaced with a whirlwind of scenes and emotion as her view of the fantastic world was replaced with the cold, solid black sky inside the Delphi dome. They were down to the courtyard where she’d been executed. The Order had required her body to hang for twenty minutes to ensure her death, and Major Crimson Fire ordered the cart to be cleaned, then steeled himself to fulfill his promise.
He reeled the rope up, himself, lifting her two and a half stories so she wouldn't have to be dropped or handled by pegasi. He set her limp body on his back and carried her down the stairs to lay her in the cart.
He sent for an undertaker to embalm her and put her in a coffin for a long, expensive rail trip across the dark, arctic ice sheets back to Hatten. She felt his fear of being accused of desertion for taking time off to personally take her body to the family's mausoleum, only for the governor herself to give him her blessing.
Then finally, after just a minute, the whirlwind rested with a scene only two days later: The dark and cold mausoleum of her aunt's prestigious family line.
Crimson Fire parked a cart next to a tomb, followed by three stallions Gold Will recognized as cousins. They helped him lift her coffin off the cart, and lower it into a tomb next to the tombs of her parents. He nodded and sent them off, to finally fulfill his promise.
“I guess... this is it,” he said, pausing for a moment, it sinking in once more that he was the closest family she'd left behind. He took a book off the cart and returned to the tomb. He knew the embalmer had done a fine job and what a short time it had been, so he lifted the coffin's lid. Inside, her body rested on soft cushioning. He sat next to the tomb, and began to read to her.
Gold Will closed her eyes as he read, relaxing to the simple fairy tale, and the calm sound of his voice. She knew her life was over, and she had taken The Gardener's hoof, accepting that the time had come to move on. She could feel herself lying on soft fabric.
“Don't be afraid. One day, these memories will come back, but for now, rest, my little child... The time has come.” The Gardener's voice comforted her.
She felt a hoof over hers as her brother read.
“There once was a wise king in an ancient kingdom. The king had two sons, a foolish prince, and a wise prince. He gave a land to each of his sons. One day, a great dragon came and terrorized the land of the foolish prince, eating their sheep and cows and burning the town. So all the knights of the kingdom came together and fought off the great dragon with their armor to protect from its claws, and their swords to pierce its scales, and it fled forever.
“Many years passed, and a hateful, angry drake came to the land of the wise prince. The wise prince said, 'you are a drake full of hatred and spite! Begone from this land!', and the drake was chased out. So the drake went to the land of the foolish prince. The villagers cried, 'a dragon, a dragon!'. The drake told them, 'no, I am not a dragon – I am a drake. I do not want to eat your sheep, but to save you from the dragon!'. 'What dragon?' the ponies of the foolish prince asked. 'The knights!', the drake answered, 'Look at them with their swords and armor, those are the claws and scales of the dragon!' Then the people went to the knights, saying, 'you are the evil dragon! Give up your shields and armor or we will fight you like the heroes of the past fought the dragon!' And the knights gave up their shields and armor, not wanting to fight the villagers.
“And the people loved the drake for saving them from the knights. Then the drake laughed, and terrorized the land of the foolish prince, eating their sheep and cows and burning the town. All the knights of the land of the foolish prince came together to fight the dragon, but they had no shields and no swords; they had given them up so they wouldn't be the dragon. And so the foolish prince's land was lost to the drake, who was the son of the dragon.
“So the wise prince saw his foolish brother's land, and went in with his knights with their swords and armor, and they drove the drake off. And the king said, 'the wise prince has saved his brother's land, so to him I give all the land.' And so the people of the foolish prince's land were ashamed forever, for they had been foolish and forgotten what the dragon was like, but the wise prince lived happily ever after, now the prince of both lands.” Big Mac closed the storybook in the dark bedroom at Sweet Apple Acres. He was only a young colt.
Crickets filled the warm, humid night air with their gentle, calming, rhythmic chorus just outside the window. Buttercup watched him say goodnight to his sister from the doorway nearby.
Big Mac looked over his baby sibling. She laid peacefully sleeping in her crib.
“Goodnight, Applejack,” he told the sleeping foal, waking her up for a brief moment with a little kiss on her forehead, thus closing Gold Will's life, and creating Applejack's earliest memory.
She would live the rest of her life – go to Manehatten as a filly, return and earn her cutie mark, learn to farm, make friends, defeat Nightmare Moon and a slew of other villains, learn about her alicorn friend's book, then one night, remember her life as Gold Will because of a hair put in a book – if only for a moment, before re-entering the dark world again, but this time to save Rarity with her other friends...
Rarity gently walked through the halls of Twilight's castle, a gold peytral with Spike's fire ruby around her neck, underneath her black cloak. Thick, blue wool socks kept her hooves from making much noise if she ever stepped on the crystal floor, though she'd managed to stay on the velvet carpet so far.
She checked again with a quick glance – glad she knew so well how to quickly and efficiently wash all the mud off her socks so she left no tracks on the carpet. Though now that I think about it – I should've put that mud under the carpet. I'm sorry about the mess, Twilight! But I've got far more important things I'm after.
Any sane pony would be asleep at this hour, but given this was Twilight's castle, she still hurried along in a trot. The less time she spent doing this, the less time Twilight would have to stop her. Finally she came to the door to Twilight's library, and fought back a little shiver as she remembered her friend's warnings. How she'd even said the princesses warned it'd kill her when she read it – at least in some way.
“You will cause a lot of suffering, but ultimately it will be worth it.” Discord's words echoed in her mind.“You know what you're getting into, Twilight warned you, and don't forget. ...brace yourself because you're going somewhere terrible, worse than you can imagine. The 'you' you are today will die, but only as the penultimate act of your – and Sweetie's – rebirth.” she felt herself stiffen and freeze as she looked at the door ahead.
I'm so sorry, Sweetie Belle. She didn't cry this time when she thought of her. She didn't even feel like it. Instead she felt a wave of determination. She resumed her quick trot, straight forward. I messed up. You didn't deserve this. I'll make it right, I promise.
She yanked the door with both hoof and magic then stopped it suddenly – a slowly moving door had a danger of creaking more loudly. She squeezed in the opening she'd left, to find herself in the enormous, towering library.
I'm so, so sorry to betray your trust, Twilight. You told us to never read it, but told us you'd hide it here in your library... but where? What section would it even be under?
I can't exactly ask the librarian...
Looking around the walls, she began to wonder. In some secret chamber perhaps? But how would I find it? I can't use gem-finding spells on rooms...
But I can see where the walls are in a castle made of crystal!
She charged the spell and cast it, all the walls around her starting to glow faintly to her magic.
Every wall was thick as usual and led to hallways, or other large rooms she already knew of. Having looked all around, she tried looking upstairs – nothing connected to the higher end of the library – then downstairs, perhaps some secret basement...
There was a conspicuous gap under the rug.
She hesitated before pulling the rug away. Okay, if there's any kind of magical snare or alarm or anything I'll have to act quick...
She threw the rug off, and saw the wooden trap door, latched shut with nothing more than a lock.
No, Twilight would do a better job than this! It's got to be some sort of trap!
Well it's my best bet and I've already thrown the rug off, so if it's a trap I've probably already activated it and I don't have time to look around anymore!
She gripped the lock in her magic, carefully scanning through it by feel. Her entire life's practice was extreme precision and dexterity with magic, so she hoped she might just have a chance – she could feel the tiny pins the key was meant to push in. They were much larger than a needle's point or eye. Even so, working all of them at once took all her focus and a long minute of work, before finally, they all clicked.
She took the lock off and continued, opening the trap door, descending down some steep wooden stairs into the tiny room below, and closing it above her, a gentle glow from her horn now being her only source of light.
Again with telekinesis, she moved the rug back over the trap door. If this hasn't set off any alarms, then that should buy me a second or two...
In the tiny space was a small, unlocked box. She bit her lip, knowing full well how suspicious it was, but with the space void of anything else, and the box being the right size, she had nowhere else to go.
She tried pinging it with her gem-finding spell – a sort of magic sonar – but she couldn't detect any other magic on it.
Maybe that's why there's no magic protections here. None that I could sense at any rate... If Twilight cast some powerful spell to protect it then maybe any good wizard dropping by the library would've found it.
She opened the box, and sure enough, inside sat the granite-covered book Twilight had shown them. Inside the front of the book was nothing but a hoof print on the right, and scribbling in a strange language. As she looked over the scribbles, even though she knew for sure she did not know the language, she understood what they were saying to her. They were instructions on how to use the book. She shivered as it dawned on her just how deep the magic was.
Save her – Discord said this was to “save” Sweetie Belle!
It came to her as quickly as she looked over the text – all she had to do was put her hoof on the print. She raised her hoof, desperation tearing through the concrete wall of her fear.
I'm coming, Sweetie!
She heard the door open behind and above her, and she reflexively startled by whipping around to see Twilight standing above her.
"NO!" Twilight's voice cried out as her magic seized Rarity's body. She heard wings flap, and they both huffed as the alicorn crashed down over her, sending them both to the floor and pinning her unicorn friend.
“NO!” Rarity screamed back, throwing Twilight off, and twisting around to face the book again.
She could see it in her mind again – Sweetie Belle was standing on a stool, the noose from her boutique around her neck, some dark and malevolent force ready to kick the stool out from under her.
She reached out to touch the hoofprint that would take her there, and in the same moment her entire body was once again frozen solid in Twilight's magic, and her horn as suppressed as her hooves were locked. She felt tears immediately come down her cheeks as she cried desperately, “No – you're not stopping me, Twilight! I have to – for Sweetie Belle! She'll die if I don't! You have to – ! You – you have to let me go!” she plead to her ignorant betrayer.
She felt Twilight's hold waver.
She had no choice. She cried out as she put her heart and soul into one last thrash against her captor, and felt the magic binds on her horn break, even though her body was still locked in place. Her blast was directed to pulling the book towards her hoof – and it responded all at once as she broke through Twilight's barrier.
“Rari-!” her friend called, cut off as she felt the book meet her hoof, then the world around her vanish. Instead of feeling paper on her hoof, she felt smooth stone and her head spun as the world flipped around her. She crashed onto hard cobblestone ground with as much speed as she'd flung the book into her hoof. Groaning, sitting up and blinking, she found herself somewhere else.
She wasn't sure if the world had gone dark for a moment or if her eyes had shut as she threw the book, but her eyes started to adjust to the darkness of the new world around her as cold air settled over her body. The sky was solid black and featureless. She was deep in a city of tall, worn brick and stone buildings bathed in the incandescent light of streetlamps along narrow cobblestone roads. The ponies were sparse and dressed in tattered, old, stained and mostly colorless clothes barely fit for the cold.
She could see breath fogging. Eartips and muzzles were red, nipped by the frosty air.
And they had all stopped to stare and gawk at her as she took a quick moment to check her peytral. The fire ruby was still in-tact – it was undamaged from her sudden fall.
She looked up to see the gawking ponies. She blinked twice, trying to make sense of the sudden new surroundings. “Oh, uh – isn't anypony going to help me up? Where am I? Is this – is this Manehatten?” Her hood closed off the peripheries of her view as she tried to look around, so she pulled it back.
Their eyes went wide, one turned and ran while others shuffled and reared back.
“A! - A horn?” the mare closest to her stammered.
“It can't be! Not here!” the running pony cried, as another hesitant pony who'd only reared back now turned and ran as well.
She huffed. “Yes it's a horn! Never seen one? And what a way to greet a lady! Not even going to help me up!? Hmph!” As she stood up and brushed herself off, the rest of the ponies on the street broke into panicked cries and galloped away.
She remembered the book was meant to have something terrible, so she took no chances. Jumping on her hooves to join them in a gallop, she snapped her head around to look behind her – only to find nothing but a building's brick wall and a few windows.
Rarity looked forward again to a straggling pony falling behind the small stampeding herd. He glanced back at her. His face was pale, his eyes met hers with a wild terror like he stared down his own death. He cried out and doubled his pace.
She glanced behind herself again, double-checking, finally sure there was no terrible monster behind her before coming to a stop. “Me! Are you all actually running from me!? What on Earth is the meaning of this!?”
As if in response, as the panicked ponies came to an intersection and split off different ways, she could hear them yelling down the narrow streets, “a unicorn! There's a unicorn here in the dome!”
She paused to glance at her reflection in a nearby storefront. It was still her usual self. Inside, a clerkpony dashed under his counter.
She sighed. Is everypony in this world going to be afraid of me? Surely I can clear things up with somepony and figure out where in – or beyond, I guess – where beyond Equestria I am. She walked over and pulled the door open, a little bell chiming as she walked inside. “Why is everypony afraid of me? I have all these bits to spend on, uh – ” she glanced around the store to find it full of hammers and tools “ – hardware?”
After waiting a moment and getting no response, she tried again, “I'm just a poor dame looking for somepony to be my hero and rescuer, lost in this strange land... if only somepony could help me...”
After another moment of silence, she sighed. “I saw you duck under the counter. Look, I don't know why everypony's acting like this or where I am, so if you could please at least explain to me why ponies are running for dear life and you're hiding under the counter from me?”
Still nothing, but by now she could hear terrified breathing from behind the counter. Her horn lit as she reached to pull him out from under the counter with her magic – but the moment she touched him from across the room he cried out, “Please, no! Not magic! NOT MAGIC! Just – just kill me with one of the saws or –”
“Good heavens!” Her magic stopped, “Kill you? I'm not here to hurt anypony! Why would you even think that? I'm just here to, uhm... to see if there's anything I can do to help. I'm both a talented fashion designer and seamstress. I see ponies here don't know a thing about proper clothing!” When she finished talking, she listened, but again, still heard no response.
She trotted back to an open end of the counter, then poked her head behind to find him still cowering in the corner. He cried out and hunkered down even more.
“You're not going to even tell me why you think I'm some sort of monster?” she asked.
He just kept cowering. She sighed again, then made her way to the door. Well if ponies are this terrified of me just for being a unicorn... Maybe I just need to find somepony to be my spokesmare. Surely somehow I can get them to listen.
She began to feel uneasy. But If they immediately assume I'm going to kill them and run, what about braver ponies?...
As she pushed the glass door open and stepped back onto the street, her worst fear was immediately proven. She saw a pair of ponies far off to her right in uniforms. They stopped in place and pointed what she recognized as muskets at her. They looked different, but she didn't take the time to find out if they worked differently.
She immediately jumped back inside as a loud bang confirmed to her exactly what they were. One of the windows to her left shattered in place and bits of cobblestone shrapnel peppered the glass as the air was rent by a pair of snaps.
Her eyes were now as wide as the other ponies' were, her mind frozen, and then kicking in overdrive as she scanned the room – she couldn't bring herself to grab a saw or axe to fight back, but there was a back door. She sprinted for it, quickly running through stockrooms and into an alleyway that led off to different streets.
She had no idea where she could go – only that it had to be far from ponies. Because of my horn! She threw her cloak's hood back down and sprinted out the alleyway.
The streets were empty, windows were shuttered, and a distant bell tower rang out madly. She looked around, trying to find some bearing that could tell her where this was – but there wasn't any buildings she recognized, none from Manehatten, Vanhoover or Baltimare, certainly it wasn't Las Pegasus or any city she knew. The extensive use of stone and narrow, small streets made her think of Trottingham, but even Trottingham chic used wood occasionally, but so far, even the rare window shutters were painted metal, at best.
She couldn't figure out where she was, but one thing was clear; she needed to be somewhere else – somewhere outside the city.
As she ran to another intersection – she saw another group of uniformed ponies take aim at her down one of the streets. They were much further than she'd ever seen any of the Canterlot sporting elite shoot clay discs from, but she didn't care to see how good their aim or weapons were.
Their shapes were strange and needle-like to her.
In the middle of her last leaping stride before turning the corner, a barrage of loud bangs shook the air with snaps like the crack of a whip, and she felt a punch to her right forehoof, knocking it to the side so she landed wrong, sending her rolling in a sprawling crash.
She quickly sprang back onto her hooves, no thought of the injury but an adrenaline-numbed pang as she took to a gallop again. Her hooves carried her at a pace as terrifying as the murderous, terrified city. My hood was hiding my horn! Why did they still shoot!? Why are they trying to hurt me!? What is this place!? This whole world just hates me for no reason?! Is everything here just to kill me!? Why ponies!? The book would try to kill me but why with ponies and not some monsters!? Why are they doing this!? Tears welled in her eyes as she ran.
From her sheer terror came a will to overpower exhaustion, urging her to sprint ever faster. The cold air scratched her throat with every rapid breath. Every corner and turn her eyes would wildly scan every alley, street, corner or roof, making sure no more ponies were waiting to shoot at her.
Every so often, far above a rooftop she saw a uniformed pegasus with binoculars pop up, then fly back down again – but they were always unarmed.
She turned down small, winding, descending roads, across random alleyways – all the while ponies on the street would gawk and shriek at the sight of her, and she would frantically check to make sure none of them wore uniforms or carried weapons.
But she didn't stop. She didn't even say a word – their shrieks told her everything she needed to hear. Her racing, terrified instincts carried her onward and wouldn't stop until she was far outside this nightmarish city.
I saw my reflection! I'm not some monster! I'm just – I'm still me! I'm still just some'ol unicorn – I'm Rarity, not a monster! Stop hunting me!
Her hooves looked the same, her nose looked the same – she felt the same, but cold, terrified, and bleeding.
But they shot at me even with my hood down! Her mind raced for ways to get them to stop shooting.
She didn't know any illusion spells – only light cantrips for her fashion shows – but she did know how to lie. Rounding a corner, she crossed under a huge archway with an open chainlink fence gate under it, into a huge opening rimmed by warehouses. An entire line of uniformed pegasi with rifles stood ready in the opening, but behind the buildings behind them there was no more skyline. Escape! She could hear an officer yelling into a radio on a parked metal wagon behind them, “you-mass, now! So tell governor - CONTACT!”
She screamed, “Save me good sirs! The unicorn's right behind me! It's right behind me!”
“Halt!” one of the pegasi bellowed.
Of course she wouldn't. All they had to do was pull her hood back and they'd shoot her on the spot, so she couldn't stop. But the soldiers hesitated for a brief moment, their weapons pointed like a dozen enormous needles ready to tear holes through her.
“FIRE!” the officer screamed back.
She realized all she had to do was point them away. Most unicorns couldn't have dreamed of such precise magic grip on so many objects from so far away, but she'd done extravagant acts of magic dexterity greater than this – her horn glowed along with the muzzle of every rifle as she tilted them down.
In a panic, at the same moment her horn let off a dizzying flash of bright light dancing in complex patterns, finding it even more blinding than she could've hoped for in the darkness of the nighttime city.
They fired as blinded ponies squeezed triggers, but all she felt was a shower of stinging flecks of stone, a whack on her horn and a pinch in her ear like a new piercing as bullets struck just yards from her in every direction.
She ran past the soldiers, only to hear another bang, then furious shouting as dazed soldiers tried to shoot her, but she'd left the opening and turned into a small street surrounded by warehouses before their vision returned.
They STILL shot at me! Why!? HOW!? Her chest started to heave as exhaustion overcame her gallop, despair clawing at her heart as the cold air scratched her lungs. Her desperate attempts were failing. Her strength was running out. Her lungs screamed for more air than she could deliver, making her cheeks, ears and hooves start to go numb from hypoxia and cold.
Rounding another corner, she stopped in a dead end, briefly seeing stars float around her vision as she panted madly.
The street ended in a concrete wall. To her right was a locked warehouse, and to her left, a great steel door with an iron cross bar laid in front of it, but unlocked. She turned back and lifted the bar across the steel door, opened it and ran inside to an alleyway behind another warehouse. The huge concrete wall continued on her right, and dead ahead was a mess of enormous pipes. She could hear the unearthly rumbling of machinery in the building next to her, and feel air was warmer here. She started to sweat under her cloak.
Glancing up, she saw the tall concrete wall to her right ended just a dozen yards above her in a solid void of inky blackness, and it was why the sky was solid black. She looked ahead and realized the black wall leaned over the mess of pipes she ran into, and many of the pipes reached up into it. At first she wasn't sure if she was thankful pegasi couldn't fly over where she was going, or terrified of whatever darkness loomed over her, but when she noticed the entire group of pegasi soldiers in the sky, her mind was made.
She heard a volley of snaps, cracks, and bangs as rounds peppered the concrete ground around her, sending more flecks stinging into her hide. She sprinted faster into the cluster of pipes, thankful for the shelter, and that the pegasi were so far away.
The tiny path quickly turned to a clausterphobic maze of enormous, hissing rusted metal pipes, brick walls and old steel doors. She picked one of the many branching paths and ran down it. She could hear sprinting bootsteps rush in after her. She considered trying to hide in the mess of pipes, but realized even with the pipes' hissing, her breath was wildly out of control and too loud. Tears welled in her eyes as her imminent death and failure jabbed her hoof with every step. She started to see stars again as her exhaustion started to overtake her.
I came to die! I came to die and nothing more! Why did I listen to Discord! Why did I come!? Why does that creepy old book hate me so much? Did it just bring me here to die!? I won't help Sweetie Belle, I'll just die here alone, every pony hating me for being – !
She turned around another corner. It continued forward like a long hall to an old metal door with a great padlock on it at the end and on the right. The mess of pipes formed a roof overhead. She glanced back - then noticed a shadow of a pony rushing after her. Cornered!
She made a mad dash down the hall and immediately set to work, her magic carefully scanning the small lock for the little pins she'd have to push back. She glanced up from her work as she heard a sprinting pony throw themselves against a wall – right at the corner she'd come from. She looked down the barrel of a rifle and at the tip of a bayonet. As quickly as she saw it, the barrel-tip was in her magic, again being aimed away in the same moment he pulled the trigger.
The bullet made a crack as it shattered off flecks of the concrete floor, and the ricochet made a terrifying ping as it made a small dent in the pipes overhead before landing at her hooves.
She quickly went back to work – she'd felt the pins, so she quickly felt them again and pushed them in, rotating the shaft and unlocking the padlock. As she slid metal against metal, she heard more mechanical noises. She looked up again to see him pull a lever back on the gun, and a small brass piece fling out. She tore the lock away at the same time he slid the lever forward again, pushing it down and to the side.
Then she flung the door open into the alleyway towards her, letting in a flood of thick, noxious, icy cold black smoke at the same moment he pulled the rifle up to his shoulder to take aim at her.
She had no idea what mechanical contraption his weapon was that could load itself again, but it was obvious that was what it'd done – and that he intended to quickly unload it again on her. She hid behind the metal door and the soldier held his fire.
The door to cold, smoky hell was straight out of a nightmare – a strange city where everypony tried to kill her, a labyrinth of brick walls and metal pipes and doors, and a door holding back a torrent of black smoke – fear began to overwhelm her. It smelled thick of industry and the sharp tang of machines and oil. She couldn't imagine what kind of monsterous grinder of machinery she'd be jumping into if she went inside.
The putrid smoke began flooding the alleyway and her lungs, making her cough violently. She steadied herself by leaning her back against the door she'd just opened.
“It'll be much quicker this way. Come on. Step out and it'll be over in an instant!” he taunted.
She began shaking, fresh tears started flowing down her eyes – whether from the smoke or the nightmare she was living, she couldn't tell.
She fought her coughing long enough to squeeze out some words, “I – I just –” She jerked as she felt a loud bang smack her back through the metal door she was leaning against. She shook even harder and felt her back with a hoof. She pulled her hoof back – only now seeing her injury from earlier for the first time; a horrifically torn hoof and a bleeding foot, but above that, it was dry. No blood from her back – just her foot. The door had stopped the bullet.
The soldier cursed and cried for backup. Then he let out a charging yell as she heard bootsteps storm towards her.
In a single moment, her mind ran like lightning, stretching the three seconds into a short eternity. She knew she was cornered – no matter what she did, she would die. So she wondered, why not simply die to this soldier's bayonet, now – a single clean stab in her heart, instead a horrid nightmare of jumping into machinery?
She then realized – she had no idea what was through the door. It was truly the pinnacle of the nightmare, but she didn't actually know for certain it would kill her. In the two seconds she had before he reached her and stabbed her, she wondered if she'd rather face its unknown, or the soldier who just tried to shoot a hole through her chest. But is it any better? It burns. It burns!
She could see in her mind’s eye yet again – beyond the black smoke, Sweetie Belle was tied up and on the stool, a noose around her neck, and she was the only pony that could save her.
So she jumped into the unknown smoke. It burned her eyes like any campfire's smoke, but far thicker and with the acrid tang of industry and acid in her mouth. She clenched her eyes shut to protect them, but couldn't keep from fighting for breath. It tore at her lungs as she panted and galloped, but not through them like a bullet would. So she ran with the hope of finding something else beyond it.
Every rapid, panting breath stabbed to her chest. She could only barely tell there was ice under her hooves, and the air was biting and numbingly cold. The pain of the cold was lost in the agony of every breath ripping apart her chest until her body begged her to stop breathing – yet her driven lust for breath wouldn't relent, forcing agonized pant after pant of the tarry death as she galloped blind in the burning, cold and black abyss.
She choked on her own breath, her tingling hooves didn't land right, the world spun around her again as she collapsed onto the hard, cold ice. The burning of her mouth, nose, eyes and lungs gently numbed as she felt the fire ruby bring a flicker of warmth to her chest, soothing some of the pain.
Maybe... Maybe I'll just wake up in Equestria.
But nightmares never hurt this much.
She couldn't feel the ice under her any more. Just a vague coldness, and one more thought. I'm so sorry, Sweetie Belle. I did this, and now Mom and Dad will lose both their daughters.
There was no fanfare with their arrival. Twilight, Applejack and Pinkie simply saw the tiny space vanish and immediately be replaced by a cobblestone street, startling them into a jump. Applejack had her lasso coiled over a shoulder, ready to draw if needed. They all glanced around, blinking at the claustrophobic street around them, each still keeping a forehoof on Twilight.
Immediately they felt the biting cold air and noticed the pitch black sky.
The few ponies in the street were quicker to react this time. Most immediately darted away in shrieks of panic.
“Not again!” one cried, sprinting away from the three confused Equestrians.
One simply sat down, consigned to her fate, looking down at the street.
“Again?” Twilight asked, her wings flaring as Pinkie and AJ let go of her. "What's wrong?"
The mare who stayed behind just looked up at her. “P-Please, have some mercy. Don't turn me insane, or against everything I love. Just kill me if you must. Then leave our dome. We have nothing for you here!” The mare's eyes darted over all three of them – and spent a bit longer focusing on AJ's lasso, then on Twilight's horn.
“What!? Who do you think we are!? We aren't hurting anypony! Our friend just came through here – what is this place? We're just trying to find her, then we'll be leaving...” somehow, she mentally added. Celestia only said she trusted I'd find a way to get back, but didn't tell me how...
“Please!” the mare shouted, falling prone on the ground and covering her head with her hooves, “I can't keep living in fear! Don't lie to me! Just do it!”
“Now what in flynn' sakes has gotten into you!?” AJ stomped a hoof, “nopony's hurtin' anypony! Not on our watch! We won't and that's just the honest'ta goodness truth!”
Twilight could tell something was horribly wrong. It wasn't exactly subtle with a pony cowering in mortal terror at some random strangers, but while everypony focused on one terrified mare, her mind began asking, what kind of world makes a pony like this? Any likely answer seemed awful, but whatever it was, she sensed it was worse than she could guess.
The mare started shaking and crying.
Pinkie rushed over, holding the mare in an embrace and patting her back, “There, there, it's not so bad. We uh – we're just here to help!” she comforted.
The mare just froze up, her breaths growing fast and shallow.
“Miss, just please, tell us why you're afraid,” Twilight plead, coming out of her thoughts. She immediately heard the ticking from her stopwatch again, the sound pulling her out of the shock of the new setting. She looked down at it hanging from around her neck and clicked it to stop. “We don't have much time. We need to save our friend!”
The mare slowly looked up at her, her pupils shrunken. “Don’t ask me why I’m scared! You know what you are! You're – you're one of them! A unicorn! Ponies corrupted with unnatural magic! The ones who bring winter! You – you're even more barbaric than they say! You're not even wearing clothes! It's true – it's true!” She shoved Pinkie away, standing up and backing away, bristling.
“Hey!” Pinkie protested, “You don't just throw one of my hugs off! That's rude!”
The objection fell on deaf ears that were folded back on a head that started scowling. “You're – I'm not! I'm not letting you win! No! No!” She turned and galloped away.
“Uh, Twi, I don't think we're gonna get a very warm welcome. Not if they think all that...” AJ started, nervously adjusting her lasso while staring at the distant mare sprinting down the street.
“She... she didn't hear a word I said,” the alicorn started, her wings flaring in agitation.
“You think she's gonna get the guards?” The workhorse asked, turning to her magic friend.
Twilight snapped out of her frustration, meeting AJ's look. “Oh. Maybe, we'll just have to be prepared.” Her horn charged a purple glow around itself, at the ready for any quick spell she needed. “But we're here to find Rarity. Ugh – why didn't I think to put a scrying spell on her!? Discord never even reported back so I guess I couldn't...” She bit her lip and looked down the empty street in each direction.
“Well I doubt she's anywhere near here,” Pinkie deadpanned, her voice brimming with annoyance.
“Why do'ya say that?”
“Well, Ms. no-hug got all freaked out 'cause she thought Twilight was a unicorn – when she's obviously an alicorn! – so they would've freaked out at Rarity, too. And 'not again' obviously meant Rarity came here just like we did. So Rarity either made it out of the city or maybe they threw her in a dungeon?” Pinkie wondered.
Twilight gasped, earning a glance from both her friends. "If we're lucky, that, or she escaped..."
"An' if we're unlucky?" AJ asked.
Twilight gave her friends a disturbed look. “If they were scared of me for having a horn, then neither of the princesses are in charge. They also thought I was evil just for having a horn, and you don't want to know what ponies did to 'evil' ponies back before the princesses came to power... We've got to catch one of these ponies and find out what happened!” She asserted, then broke into a gallop down the empty street. Her friends quickly followed close by. When they made it up to her sides, her wings instinctively spread over them.
“Well what are we gonna do when we catch one?” AJ asked while they ran. “That mare back there wasn't exactly feelin' very chatty!”
“Oh, I can make ponies talk when they need to talk!” Pinkie's voice boiled, earning concerned glances from both her friends.
“Pinkie, we don't know why they're afraid. For all we know unicorns in this world may actually be evil!” Twilight patiently explained.
“No, she's right, Twilight. What does it matter why they might've hurt her? Fact is we gotta figure out what happened!”
The alicorn princess cast her friends another concerned look, then rapidly slowed to a halt, her friends taking a second longer to stop, putting both of them a few steps ahead of her. They turned to listen as she spoke, “Okay, first, AJ, Pinkie, we are not hurting anypony, okay? Second, I just realized if everypony's terrified of us, they're going to have already warned ponies off the streets, so we're going to have to go inside to look for ponies,” as she said it, everypony's ears perked to the sound of distant city bells ringing, making them stop for a moment.
“Oh – I didn't mean hurting them,” Pinkie objected.
“Pinkie!?” AJ called out, shock instantly shooting across her face as she looked down the street.
Both of her friends looked to follow her gaze – just in time to see a pink head pop back inside a building on the left side of the street, a few hundred yards away, and for the brief moment they saw it, it looked like Pinkie's.
“Nope, that's not me.” Pinkie shrugged. “But let's go meet her! We need to talk to somepony and she at least looks like me so that's a start.”
Twilight led them across the street. Applejack gave both her friends a wide-eyed look as they started walking. “Is it just me, y'all, or did she look exactly like Pinkie?”
“Down to the color of her eyes and her fluffiness of her mane!” The pink pony confirmed.
“This place just gets weirder and weirder...” Applejack shook her head.
“Well, whatever you do, just don't ask, 'how could this get worse?',” Twilight said with a half-humored grin and a nervous laugh. They'd made their way across the street, following close behind in a canter, when far up ahead a small group of uniformed ponies appeared around the corner of an intersection. It took Twilight only a moment to recognize what they were holding – and pointing at them.
“BAD TWITCHY-TWITCH!” Pinkie cried, immediately summoning the strength to shove them both to the ground and to the side.
Twilight cried out, her concentration on a shield spell broken as she was thrown to the ground. A salvo of cracks in the air heralded a cluster of bangs echoing down the street, and multiple sprays of red from Pinkie as she pushed her friends to the side.
Two mares yelped in surprise, one in agony, all toppling to the ground in thunks.
Pinkie's cry immediately collapsed into a tight grunting as she curled into a ball in a rapidly growing puddle of blood.
Twilight's horn charged, her magic grabbed all of them, and in a flash they were a few inches off the ground in the nearby building they'd seen the mare in.
The strange mare gasped. Her pink mane was just as curly and fluffy as Pinkie's normally was.
The alicorn gently set her friends on the ground, casting a bubble of magic around all four ponies, and let all go except her most innocent friend, who started gurgling horribly as she shook, her mane now fully deflated.
In a series of small flashes, tiny bits of metal and a small ball of blood appeared in the air next to Pinkie, splashing and clanking to the floor as her gurgling suddenly turned back to agonized breathing.
Twilight’s horn was glowing.
Pinkie’s wounds stopped bleeding, though the puddle from the ball of blood Twilight removed spread out until it reached her.
“I-I'm sorry, Pinkie, I don't know how to numb the pain but I can – actually, I think I can!” Twilight cried out, her magic growing even more bright around her mortally wounded friend.
Applejack, Pinkie's, and the new mare's eyes were all wide with horror and shock, but Twilight's were more focused, though just as terrified. Her magic lit around Pinkie's neck, and instantly her pained heaving was replaced by terrified, but regular breaths.
“T-twilight, what – what did you do!? It – it doesn't hurt – I –” Pinkie stammered in surprise. “B-but, I can't feel – I can't feel anything!”
Twilight's voice was distant, distracted. “Don't worry, Pinkie, I'm using my magic to do your breathing for you, but... I've kind of temporarily taken over your body with telekinesis. You won't feel pain this way.”
“I-isn't there – isn't there any way to – ?” the new mare stammered in horror. “What about the guards outside? And Gold Will! I can't tell you how relieved I am to see you!” She turned to Applejack. “And surprised, to say the least.”
Applejack took a surprised step back. “I – I ain't 'Gold Will'!” she exclaimed with frustration, then turned to her magical friend, “Wha-what happened to Pinkie, Twi!?”
The alicorn's eyes were closed, she was carefully feeling her friend's injuries, internal and external, every damaged vein, bone and organ with her magic. She worked for a few long seconds before responding, everypony waiting “The bubble will block all sound, too, and it could stop a speeding train. Isn't there any way to do what? And she's been shot, AJ.”
“Isn't there any way to – you know –” the new mare glanced side to side, her voice dropping to a whisper, “save her?”
Twilight's voice was panicked and distracted again, “Of course. What do you think I'm doing? This – this is medical magic, not my usual repertoire and I'm not gonna lie, Pinkie, I'm not a surgeon... But it's just a subset of high-precision telekinesis and hydrokinesis. I can feel the blood pressure, though – and that's right, I can't make it all clot! But with big gaps missing I'm not sure how... Oh, yes! Perfect! Let's just add in a little permanent transfiguration...”
The bullets floated back into the air in her magic, disappearing in teleporting pops.
Twilight's horn started flaring ever brighter and she started straining, sweat forming on her face, then her magic stopped. She panted and barely caught herself, almost falling over from sheer exhaustion.
AJ held out a hoof to catch her. “Wha-what just happened!? Was that some kinda – !?”
The alicorn looked into her eyes, her own now tired but wild with terror. “I – I'm not a certified surgeon, AJ! I don't know anything about medicine, except vessels need to carry blood and there's the organs and – I've made living things with magic, before, though, so making pieces of living things is no different, right!? But she’s not some orange, she’s my friend – it's Pinkie! I – how do I know if I did it right!? Is she okay!? I – I think so! I replaced all the parts of her that were damaged! Did I do it right? Before I did this I didn't even think of her blood as a pressurized fluid but it is – of course it is, her heart beats! Did suppressing electrical activity in the upper spine do permanent damage? There's so much I don't know that I might've screwed up on!”
Her words were shadowed by Pinkie's agonized crying. They both looked at her.
“P-Pinkie? Are you okay? I mean – does it hurt as bad as before?” Applejack asked desperately.
“N-no,” she forced out. “B-but it – it – no, it doesn't hurt like... like before at all...” She shook, holding her hooves to her chest.
Applejack put her other hoof on Pinkie's shoulder, “I – I don't know all kinda medicine stuff, but – but Twilight's the best darn pony at magic alive, Pinkie! You'll be alright! Of course you did a good job, Twilight! She's still alive, isn't she!” she comforted, her own eyes tearing up.
“That... That was amazing!” the new mare declared, her eyes lighting up as she looked over the rescued pony, then the alicorn. “You – you – how many bullets was that!? Like, four!? In vital areas, too!? You must be from Bastion! Or – you're all buck naked of course you're not, gotta be a shard-state! Unicorn Range? But you speak Delphinian! North Shades? South Shades? Crystal Mountains?” her enthusiasm and energy seemed to match Pinkie's, yet her voice and intonation had a very slightly more gruff tone.
“Three,” Twilight corrected, confidence returning to her voice, “throat, upper back, and hips. I –” she turned to Pinkie, “I'm sorry I touched you in all those places. I kinda had to feel through – you know – your entire body and all...”
Through her pained groaning, Pinkie giggled. “It – it's okay, doctor Sparkle! You... Nng!” she gritted her teeth in pain, “- you should be certified as a surgeon when... when we get back!”
Twilight let out a single laugh of relief, tears coming to her eyes. Amazed at her friend's spirit holding through such injury, still trying to cheer her up.
“It...” Pinkie started shaking again, “It was so scary when I couldn't breathe! Thank you, Twilight!” Although she didn't move from lying on her back, she threw her forelegs around Twilight as best as she could. Both of them started crying.
Applejack finally answered the mare's question, “We're – we're from really far away. Not sure you'd believe us if we told ya. To be honest we don't even know where we are. Or why those darn ponies are – are doing this to us!” fury came into her voice.
The mare was taken aback. “Oh, well – first off – oh you must be from the Unicorn Range! – I think I've heard of nudists up there! But you’re not nearly thick-furred enough… But you really came all the way here and don't know a thing about the The Order of the Hatten Vanguard?! Oh my gosh! We've still got that big squad on us – a unicorn came through here a few hours ago so they're everywhere – they'll be kicking in every door in the dome! I'm surprised they're not here yet!” She glanced around, “And I – oh they'd better not see me with all of you – except she looks just like me!” she said, looking at Pinkie, then back at Applejack. “And you – I can't believe you're not Gold Will! You'll have to tell me where you came from! Oh, so much going on at once!” she complained.
Twilight answered, “I don't want to move her, miss – uh...”
“Astilbe.”
“Astilbe, I think she should stay still – at least for a few days. I – I didn't make any big cuts, but the bullets did, and what I transfigured in should blend smoothly with existing tissue but I'd like to give her time in case there's imperfections that need to heal. Is there any way we can hide here – ” she finally looked around the place, realizing it was a clothing store of some kind “wherever this is?”
“Best place for contemporary everyday costumes! Uh, that won't really help us now, though. But you two can get dressed, at least, please! At least – Pinkie, was it? – at least Pinkie's got a reason to stay naked. But we should definitely get a blanket for her, and a towel to clean up this blood and such. But – oh that won't do us any good when they kick this door down and find us in here.”
“You want us to go fancy ourselves up while one friend is missin', another's just been stabbed through with some freaky magic from a block away, an' we're hidin' from the ponies who did it who're searchin' for us!?” the farmhorse huffed.
“Uh...” Astilbe looked between the pony and her injured friend, then stood up, “On second thought, I'll just grab you two some clothes real quick, and maybe a jacket or blanket. Also rifles aren’t magic, they’re weapons.” She stood up, and started looking through a clothes rack that was mostly inside Twilight's bubble. “Will this bubble hurt me if I touch it?” she asked.
“No,” Twilight answered, “But okay – we can teleport out of here, but it’s dangerous. I need some way to know where we're going. Do you have something unique to a place we can hide? Or maybe – no, I don't want to try even more risky magic, though, we're already in enough danger...”
The mare scoffed, and pulled some plain clothes off a rack and put them on her back. “It's worth the risk, trust me! We need to get out of here yesterday, or you'll all end up like your friend and worse. Then you'll say, 'physician, heal thyself!'.” She turned around and faced Twilight, “Does a dance count?”
The alicorn blinked. “A dance?”
“Yes, a dance. I do dances, but only on-stage. The theater's closed right now and – just trust me it's a safe place. Mmm, I can see it in my mind right now!”
“Perfect! Picture it as clearly as you can!” Twilight started charging her horn.
“Nono, I need you two!” Astilbe hopped forward, pulled AJ and Twilight onto their hindlegs and began can-canning between them, her eyes closing in glee as they simply blinked in surprise. “The ponies love it! It just makes them so happy! With you two naked and without earmarks they'd pay a lotta extra to see this show!”
“Think of the stage, Astilbe!” Twilight demanded.
“Oh, it's actual, honest-to-goodness new wood, only a century old!”
Twilight took advantage of the moment and immediately fired off her spell. The store and magic bubble vanished from around them, immediately replaced with a stage, where they stood surrounded by curtains and a backstage on either side. Astilbe stopped dancing. “Aw, curtains closed already? I guess we're done for the night.” She walked next to Pinkie. “If the Hatten Vanguard shot ya you know you're doing something right, you know? Also, to all three of you, confession time; the Horus theater doesn't actually do redlight shows. But uh - sorry about dancing in the middle of all this - you just said to picture the theater as clearly as I could so I did...”
Twilight found herself practicing the same 'ignore the crazy parts' technique she had to use to understand Pinkie. The pony looked as much like her as a Mirror Pool clone. “Think you can tell us where we are or what's going on, yet?” she asked the lookalike.
Astilbe looked around, putting a hoof to her chin. “Hmm. Not quite. Who knows when some inspector may come knocking or some pony out of the loop may come sweepin' in. So where do we hide a body? A living body, of course! But still a body that we can't exactly go home with. She's got no papers if she's not from here!”
She turned to the Equestrians in a quick snap, continuing, “Aha! Did you know the Horus theater also does – wonder shows? One hundred percent certified and inspected non-magic, of course!” She stood on her hindlegs and held her forehooves to each side in a grand, wizard-like gesture. “But you may be amazed and in awe of the wonders of science!”
She fell back onto all fours and explained in a less grandiose voice, “The Hatten Academy of Sciences has already confirmed and approved our acts, of course, meaning as long as we don't change the routine the storage room for the equipment is strictly off-limits to the public – goodness knows we wouldn't want some of that equipment falling in the wrong hooves! But regular inventory checks aren't necessary since our successful shows are proof enough we still have all our approved equipment, so...” she cast a sly grin at them. “We have a room from which strange noises may come and few can access so it's the perfect place to hide an injured fugitive.”
“So… you’re saying you've got a safe place we can take her and talk?” The alicorn asked again.
“Well duh,” Astilbe rolled her eyes, then started trotting away, “just follow me.”
“Wait just a moment!” Applejack objected, freezing Astilbe in her stride. “All the other ponies were freakin’ out and tryin’ to kill us ‘cause Twilight’s an alicorn. Why ain’t ya afraid of us like they were?”
“I guess you really aren’t Gold Will… I’m not afraid of you because I found a book. A journal. That I got from some friends from far away… But I’ve already said too much, just, please, quickly, let’s go to that storage room, we can hide there.”
Governor Spectrum opened the metal door to the prison's great courtyard. The high concrete walls around it blocked the view of the city outside. She wore an ornate, navy blue dress trimmed with gold, matching well with her cyan fur and magenta eyes. Her mane was bleached white. Her stride carried confidence befitting her regal attire.
It was unusual to see the death yard so empty. Half the normal complement of guards were present, and the entire grand gallows towers were both reserved for a single prisoner's execution.
Major Crimson Fire's little sister.
The Major himself followed a few steps behind, two of her elite royal guards not far behind him.
The place were familiar to her, but today she wasn't just checking on things – there was a deadly game to play.
Although only a Major, Crimson Fire's medals and special operations patch spoke for themselves. He will make a fine ally if I can pull this off.
There wasn't a word between them as they walked across the yard and up the stairs. They'd forwarded the orders – no physical harm was to be done to her. She was fed, dressed well in what he'd sent her, but they were to act like she was to die without actually killing her.
Not yet.
The governor only hoped the psychological abuse was enough to break her. She reached the top of the stairs. The prisoner was there, blindfolded and bound, lying mentally – but not physically – broken on the trap door. One guard stood near the slack behind the pulley, another stood close by her.
With a mere gesture of her head, the entire team shuffled off the platform, leaving the bound mare alone.
She watched the prisoner roll onto her back, then sit up, her ears flat against her head. She looked around instinctively despite her blindfold.
Well, she's not entirely broken, then. But maybe she would be if not for Crimson's damn insistence that she be given water and not abused. She'd be way more receptive to our demand with a good few beatings, some rape, some hunger and thirst.
Still, if I'd negated his protection orders on her and she still refused, that would've left me in an awfully bad spot. But like this, he's still on my side. I think.
But if you really wanted to save your sister, you should've let her be abused...
The major approached her, untying her. She broke into a fit of crying and they hugged.
When he said they had an offer, the prisoner excitedly leaped for it. Then she raise a hoof to pull the noose off, and he stopped her, then talked sternly to her.
Good show of making her keep the noose on. I'm impressed.
He told her the exact demands.
Her pupils shrank and her ears flopped down. She looked side-to-side in a small panic. Her throat caught on her words.
The governor sighed internally. Your throat will be catching on more than a few words if you don't just speak up.
But he's her brother. He'll be able to talk sense to her if any pony can.
“I – I...” The prisoner simply bowed her head.
He kept urging her, “It's not much. Just a few words. Please, Goldie, I want to go home with you. It doesn't have to end here. We can walk off this platform together, and I want to.” He set a hoof on her shoulder and looked at her eyes.
Her eyes grew wide and darted around as she took a step back. After a short pause, she finally spoke, her expression relaxing as she reminisced. “Look at you, in that nice uniform, now, with so many ribbons and at such a rank... You were so excited when our aunt and uncle got you hooked up to train in the officer school...”
“Goldie...” he begged.
The governor fought to keep her expression neutral. Oh please, retreating into your memories and getting all sentimental won't save you, here, mare. Just give us the name or let us break your neck already.
“You were so excited to protect and serve back then. Don't you know, before the invasion –”
For a moment, the governor remembered younger years. Begging her dad to let her join the air infantry, the subsequent rejection, the tutelage he'd given her on how to play the political game. How to achieve real power to act in the world. Real power to hold the last flicker of life alive in the endless winter.
“Goldie!” he shouted. Her expression softened along with his voice, “You don't have to lie. I just want you to... Just consider the possibility that your memory isn't as good as you think – that maybe – what if you did see the unicorn, and it messed with your memories with magic? Made you believe their propaganda and lies, and they're the ones who've –”
“Then it did a darn good job!” she shouted back. “No – he did a darn good job! HE! Don't you know they're ponies!? And maybe we didn't know any but we know ponies who did!”
“It's just lies and propaganda. They abused them, enslaved them, and right as we liberated this dome they used their magic – !”
“No it wasn't! Those are the lies and propaganda! When did you lose your darn common sense!” Her rant accelerated as she went.
Great Skies! The governor thought to herself, Her spirit isn't just unbroken, it's still strong! This is hopeless. Either we torture her or she dies, and I can scarcely imagine her brother doing anything but hating me if I have her tortured, so...
She ranted on about her innocence and the purges, and how many ponies were hanged. The governor shifted her weight on her hooves uncomfortably. And to think she doesn't even know about the ones we took outside to freeze in The Abyss.
Some part of her gnawed at her stomach. An old war flickered in her mind. Why do I constantly torture myself over doing what's right?
Doubt, that this is truly the solution. I cannot afford to keep doubting. But I can't keep from doubting unless somehow I can know. This is ponykind's last stand against the cold. Who knows how much longer the domes will last? Unicorn magic is inadequate and allying with them is not an option – Westhaven proved it. Only the unicorns could be the cause of winter. What else could it be? How can we be sure to end it unless we kill every last one?
By now, the governor wasn't sure if he was reasoning with his sister or begging her. “...Most ponies don't get this merciful chance, most just get – most just don't,” he quickly cut himself off.
“Th-then... it's true!?” She stepping forward, bristling. “And you've known it this whole time!? About those 'most ponies'!? And you'll –” her voice caught and broke, “you'll let me die because of some stupid law!? Your – your own sister!? You won't even let me take this noose off because you want me to hang from it!? D-don't you love me at all? Do I not matter –”
He immediately pulled her into a tight hug again. “I never, ever wanted to see you here, Goldie. You should be at home right now, or working the farms. Not here! But the world's an ugly place. We do what we must to survive against the winter –”
For spring to come.
I'm sorry, young mare. I just wish I could tell you that. But that's why I have Steelheart work these yards. He sees it like I do. He won't allow any more suffering than the bare minimum.
She found her own eyes slightly damp. Damn! I've seen hundreds of ponies executed, this is no different! I must be strong to keep this going and do what must be done. Damn her, anyways, she's the one getting the easy out! We're the ones who have to stay here and fight on against the unicorns and their winter! Killing her is an act of mercy - setting her free from this war!
“Do you have to do this, though – do you?” her cries bordered on begging.
“We – I can't stop this from happening. Only you can. Just by telling us – or even just me, where you got the book from,” his begging was as pitiful as her fear.
“B-but then what will happen to that pony? Someone else will be here – because of me?”
“No, because they broke the law. They're the real criminal here, not you – you got involved with this and now they'll kill you for it if you can't just take this one, rare, merciful opportunity to set things right! Help us fight this endless, terrible unicorn's winter that's already killed millions! If you can't do it for your own life, do it for me? For the world? For spring to come?”
She stepped out of the hug. “But haven't you ever considered – maybe you're causing the winter with all this killing? Maybe some unicorns are, but why can't we work with the good ones? Why can't we be with them against the villains causing the winter – if anypony is causing it at all!”
The governor bit her teeth. How the hell do ponies come to believe that complete garbage? It's so damn obvious. The unicorns do magic, and there's a winter that makes no physical sense. She knew the whole lecture – all the proof of the records regarding summer and winter, day and night. But nothing for the outlandish claims of windigos – mythical beasts. The only beings who possessed such magic were unicorns. The unicorns are the windigos. It's ridiculous to make up such a fantastic creature to take the blame off the obvious criminal!
“The Great Unicorn’s Winter has already claimed countless millions of lives – and we're running out of time! The Great Nightfall proves it! The Domes are dying! And then we’ll all suffocate in the smoke, millions more will die and life won’t be able to go on! Don’t you get it - all life in the world will end if we don’t do this! We must live by these measures to prevent Westhaven from happening here!”
Well put, Crimson, but if she's spouting this garbage then I'm afraid her poisoned mind is beyond saving. This has devolved to an absurd argument, it's time to step in.
“It’s - it’s all lies, though! The mountains are enough, magicquartz -”
“Only makes the winter worse!”
“But that’s not true!” she cried.
“Excuse me,” the governor interjected, straightening herself into a high and strong posture as she stepped in.
The siblings held eachother close as they faced her, one limb still around eachother's shoulders.
“You're not here to argue us into submission, Gold Will. You're here to die. There is no renegotiating the terms we have offered you. Only a 'yes' or a 'no'. We're offering you your life. It's quite simple, really. We can draw out your death as well. You looked quite broken when we first came up here. Perhaps you'd be more willing to talk after a little more breaking? Is that what you want?”
Bite. I dare you. Give me an excuse to have you tortured.
Then maybe you'll break and you can actually leave here alive.
The Major's eyes were wide and frantic as he looked at his little sister. His voice had a desperate, hissing urgency. “Goldie, please. Please, you have to tell us! You-you don't want to go through this! They can do things to you a million times worse than whatever made you lie on the ground when we arrived up here. Do you want that – whatever they did to you – do you want that for years?”
We work well as a team, Crimson...
The prisoner began to shake in her noose, contemplating for long, painful moments. “I... I won't... I won't tell either of you... ever,” her quaking voice pierced the silence.
“Gold Will –” he urged yet again.
“No! I promise I won't!” she stomped a hoof. “And you know I never break a promise!”
He fell silent, mouth open, looking for something to say.
The governor just sighed. “Very well. No point in wasting any more of our time, then...” she paused.
Well, she absolutely refuses. By all rights, the normal thing to do here would simply be to torture her until she talks. Have her beaten, maybe choked out a few times, we could have a ball, and in the process, be saving the world.
Then why isn't it guilt-free?
Because you're torturing some poor pony, damnit. Now shut up and solidify the decision I've already made.
Most ponies would be tortured for at least a few days before now to force them to talk, and if they still had something we wanted we'd just torture them some more, but this is the major's sister. If I pardon her, I show unacceptable weakness and hold her above the law. She would be emboldened and probably an endless thorn in my side – in the side of all those who want to live here in peace. We know her loyalties have turned against Hatten – we can't have that.
Since she has sworn her disloyalty, then as the occupational governor on behalf of the Hatten Vanguard holding onto the Delphi dome, I have the solemn duty to see to her death. She's no more special than all those other ponies I've seen executed. She's had more than enough unjust mercy. It is my duty.
But I have to let the Major know that she's already being granted a lot of mercy just to be spared torture. So I'll start with that then show how I'm holding back, and making her death quick and painless. “I hope you understand, Major, she has to be tortured for this information. And once she finally breaks, she will be swiftly executed to relieve her of her mortal agony.”
Maybe he'll even let me do it, and I can even spare her at the end.
“M'am...” he started, his voice quivering.
He's objecting. No! Even if I have her tortured and spared he'll hold it against me forever! I have to be merciful! But I can't spare her, either. I have to protect this city from her lies. It is my duty.
“But for your sake, Major, I will forego the torture in favor of a quick, painless, neck-breaking hanging. Consider it a reward for your, and your parents' loyal services to The Order. There are times when mercy may show its face, and to someone like you, I feel you deserve this one.”
“And miss,” Governor Spectrum turned to Gold Will, “I will recognize your parents' sacrifice in service to The Order and honor you with this word of advice; I suggest you stop arguing and talk like you're already dead. You can do no more to save your life now than you could if you were already hanging. So this is a moment for you to say goodbye, and for your brother's sake, please do use it for this purpose – or to change your mind on the information.
“I am aware of your Orphan of Heroes award and Hatten Citizenship. I have honored those here by giving you this opportunity to save your own life, but since you won't take it, there's nothing I can do. Now I will speak no more, this time is for you and your brother. The hangponies will come, and nothing will stop them when the clock-tower begins to toll. Your neck will be broken on the sixth strike. Farewell.” She gave the siblings a respectful nod, turned to the side of the platform, spread her wings, and walked straight off, swooping into a graceful glide through the air, to the edge of the courtyard below.
She gently landed on her hooves just a few steps from the complement of death-yard workers. They all immediately stood to attention. “Once you hear the belltower toll, you are to get Gold Will ready for execution again, then break her neck on the sixth toll – not a second before or after.”
“Yes m'am,” Captain Steelheart saluted.
“At ease,” she instructed. The guards all relaxed in their attention.
“It's a damn shame, isn't it, Captain?” she commented, turning and sitting down to face the towers. From here, they couldn't see either of the two ponies, but they were unconcerned. Armed guards on the courtyard walls could see everything.
He replied, “If we stand strong, then perhaps one day it won't be necessary any more. In Hatten proper, they can afford to give everypony more of a chance because everypony there already knows not to let their minds get poisoned like this. But here? We're on the front lines against the unicorns.”
“And what do you think of mares like the one up there right now?” she asked. She knew the answer – they'd spoken about this more than once before, but now she listened to hear it again.
She was unsure if she wanted him to assure the guards or herself.
“It's like I told these fine ponies a few minutes ago, m'am. Her mind's been poisoned to where she's already dead. Before the unicorns took hold of it, she would've fought to defend the world. Now she carries harmful thoughts that would tear it apart. It's a real travesty, that's for sure, but the damage is already done. We're just containing it from going further, and it's not pretty.”
“And what about ponies who enjoy doing it?” she asked. Though her tone was that she was quizzing him, something in her mind poked herself.
He thought for only a short moment before replying, but it seemed to stretch longer than she liked.
“In the end it doesn't really matter, so long as it doesn't cloud their judgment. They've got a lot to work through, I think, and figure out what they want out of life. But for our great unified whole, all that matters is we do what must be done. I'll watch these guards carefully and make sure they don't become unnecessarily abusive, though. We're only here to do what we absolutely must, nothing more.”
She took in his words, hardly noticing that she left a quick silence, herself, before she answered back. She turned to face the guards again to address them. “Well put. Just as it took a cleansing period like this to free Hatten from the dark an unnatural influence of magic, and they now enjoy greater privileges for it, so, too, will this dome prevail if we are true. So we continue this, lest those who died before die in vain. We must accomplish our goal and end the Unicorn's Winter, and you all play a vital part of that.” She turned around again, as though she were about to lead them forward, “Follow me, as I follow our great Order, The Order of the Hatten Vanguard, and we will bring spring again!”
“For spring to come!” Steelheart bellowed, punctuating her speech.
“For spring to come!” they all echoed.
“As you were,” she said. She then turned back to the captain, now speaking in a regular tone, "And Captain, there is one exception - if she says she's changed her mind - or if either of them say she's changed her mind - you can delay the execution. Even if she doesn't say it, if he has a name, or believes he can get it out of her, work with the situation as needed. I'll just be on the other tower. I told them I'd leave them alone, so I will, but I'll still be close enough to call if needed."
"Yes m'am." He nodded.
She took to wing and flew to the top of the other tower, where she'd have a better view of the process. Hardly a minute passed before the distant bells tolled, and the dozen or so ponies rushed up the stairs of their tower.
Despite all she'd said, how much sense it made, she still couldn't sort it out in her own mind.
She couldn't help but watch as the two siblings enjoyed their last moments together and the poor mare was tied again.
She had a nagging feeling she knew why she watched their last embrace, but she refused to accept it. She thought of a stallion, but it wasn't Crimson. Seeing them so tenderly embrace in their last moments stirred feelings she'd almost forgotten. Would Firehoof have comforted me if I were about to be executed? Surely then his role as my father would overshadow his role as general. Would Nightgale? No, he'd probably fight to the bitter end to protect me. Sometimes I wonder if his protective attitude towards me goes beyond his post as captain of my security.
Gold Will's brother only released her from a hug at the last moment as the trap doors opened. The rope snapped taut.
Why do I still wonder about the purges? I know it all. I can repeat it to myself a million times but it still never sinks in. I know why things are this way. Why it must be done. I can lead a million ponies to accept it. I can motivate them to kill and to die over it.
Then why do I still struggle to accept it, myself?
I'm a liar, really.
Yeah, I know the truth – I saw an execution when I was too young and it scarred me and now I'm obsessed with it.
No, that's not it, I'm doing it to protect all the life in the dome, I know it!
...Can both be true?
She found herself looking at the crossbeams and nooses of the gallows she sat on.
Here I am, ordering all these, when really my neck belongs in one of those.
She sighed. Well, the Major won't exactly be in a good state to talk to right now. At the end of the day, I could've pardoned her, but I didn't. Damnit, he knows that. Damnit! Was I really thinking he’d appreciate how merciful I was? Of course not, he’ll just be furious I let her die! I haven’t gained an ally at all!
She looked again to Gold Will's limp body. And there's no going back now. The hell was I thinking – he's going to hate me now. Am I trying to get myself killed? I have a sworn duty to hold this dome in the name of The Order!
But I just can't do it. I can't order his death. I've had enough of this. I won't kill him unless I'm absolutely sure he's a real threat. And if he does somehow get me... I'm tired of this job. Lead me here, then, one day, major. I've always wondered what it's like to be in your sister's place, anyways...
Her ears perked as the door to the courtyard opened, and another dozen guards came in, bearing supplies to ready the towers to begin their regular operations.
She stood up, straightening her posture. No. No! I'm here to defend the last flicker of life in this world and I can't give up! I'll kill half the dome if I have to! The Vanguard will prevail, we'll honor those who died by completing the cause they died for!
We will end the winter!
We will bring spring!
We will have the summer world that is our birthright!
And I – I will play a vital part in it. It is an honor!
And It is my duty!
She spread her wings again, and leapt off the tower.
If Twilight had been more intimately familiar with the room, or had powerful memories there, it would've been easy. But since she'd only just seen it, it took great focus. She held a hoof on Pinkie while her horn glowed with charging magic.
Twilight pictured Astilbe in her mind – the pony who looked as perfect a copy of Pinkie Pie as the Mirror Pool clones – and pictured her in the room she'd shown her. She imagined in her mind again the walk from the stage where Pinkie was currently laying, down the stairs backstage and through the hall, and left into that room, again imagining Astilbe inside, and wanting to appear just a few yards in front of her – and she fired the spell.
The backstage around her and Pinkie was instantly replaced with the storage room of science equipment meant for shows of awe. Applejack and Astilbe were waiting inside. Astilbe was still in her plain, dull-yellow dress. Applejack's mane was now bundled in her hairbands, and her lasso was still coiled over a shoulder and ready for action.
If her friend wasn't critically wounded, Twilight would've been bouncing across the room to look at all the strange contraptions and apparatuses inside. But as it was, the fatigue from the stress showed under her eyes, and her unicorn friend was still missing in a strange city with a black sky that was terrified of unicorns. All the while it was early morning and she still hadn't slept, but she'd hardly even noticed the missing sun.
“There she is!” Astilbe greeted, looking at her exhausted reflection. “Lookin' great, Pinkie.” She skipped right past her towards the door, then turned to the Equestrians. “You all wait here for just one sec! You really need some clothes! Just sit tight! And appreciate the wood floors! Just like the stage, only a century and a half old! It's AMAZING!” She disappeared through the doorway.
Twilight and Applejack just looked at each other, then down at the old, creaky wood floor, then back at each other.
“Well, if she wasn't on our side, she wouldn't have hidden us from those ponies, so...” Twilight reasoned.
“Forget that,” AJ replied, her voice full of awe, “just what in tarnation is up with her bein' Pinkie Pie? You know that's Pinkie, even if she calls herself 'Astilbe'.”
“I don't know, but she seems to know what's going on, and work here.” The alicorn finally took a minute to turn and look over the room. There were drawers and dressers, a vanity, and a few carts and machines she couldn't make sense of all around the walls. “There's a lot of big machines here, though. I wonder if we could re-arrange them so if anypony comes in they don't immediately see Pinkie?”
“She said they were important for somethin', ask her.” Applejack approached their injured friend lying on the floor, sympathy and worry in her voice. “Is it still hurtin', Pinks?”
Her eyelids were halfway down as she laid on her back. “A – a little, but...” she shifted a little bit, then cried out and clenched her teeth. “Okay, lots of 'little's! A whole bunch-many 'little's until it's a whole lot!”
Twilight snapped around and did a quick teleport right up to her, “don't move! Just try to hold still. We'll -” she glanced around the room again “- we'll find something to make you more comfortable.”
“More comfortable comin' right up!” Astilbe's voice sounded from the doorway as a huge mattress fell through it with a loud thump, making the two standing ponies spin around and even the injured one prop her head up. Astilbe quickly followed the mattress in, blankets and sheets and a pair of bulging saddlebags all piled on her back. She bit a strap on the mattress and started dragging it into the room.
Pinkie moaned on seeing it. “I – I can't just lie here while you rescue Rarity...”
“It's alright, sugarcube,” the farmhorse gently comforted, “you more than done your share, just rest now and be here when me'n Twi get back with Rarity, okay? Why – I dunno all that happened back there, or what those weapons were exactly but you saved our lives, didn't you?”
Twilight's ears perked and she turned to her friends. Her eyes were wide, but not for the reasons they might have guessed. Oh no, she remembered. She – she got shot for nothing! I was charging a barrier spell that could've protected us. Would it have held, though? Should I even tell them?
Well, she really might've saved our lives if the shield didn't hold, but it probably would have?... “She... probably did,” she confirmed. “Pinkie, you -” for a brief moment, she almost explained the whole thing, but went with her simplification, instead. “You probably just saved our lives.” Excitement and glee popped into her voice as she found a wording that was entirely honest and gave her friend the credit she deserved, “You literally took those bullets to save us! I'd say you deserve some rest!”
What would she learn if I told her she threw my concentration off a barrier spell, anyways? Not to save our lives? That all her pain is for nothing? I don't know that. Maybe she did save our lives, anyways.
“I – I did? I did!” The pink pony's blue eyes watered and she smiled again. “T-thanks for saving me back, is all.”
For a brief moment, she was confused. “I – I did!” Twilight intentionally echoed her friend's wording as she realized what she'd done. As horrifying as the experience had been, it began to dawn on her, not the horror that she'd reached in her friend's torn insides to save her life, but the realization she'd saved her life.
Pinkie wasn't only alive because of a horrifying, bloody, unpracticed emergency surgery she was unqualified to even try.
Pinkie was still alive because of her.
She felt her lip curl, and her own eyes water. “Oh, Pinkie, I guess we both saved each other, didn't we?”
They fell into a gentle group hug around the pony on the ground, careful not to move or shift her.
Astilbe finished setting the bed in the corner and turned to the Equestrians, hopped in surprise, and bounced over with a grin and joined the hug, “and I did something, too, right? Wait, did I? Aw, I don't think I did...”
“A'course you did! You brought us somewhere safe!” AJ touted.
“Oh, right, I guess I did!” Astilbe beamed as the Equestrians welcomed her.
“Okay,” After a moment with the newcomer, the group hug broke apart and Twilight turned to the others. Her horn charged, she pulled the sheets and covers over the bed and teleported Pinkie onto it, then gently set the blankets back over her.
Astilbe stood between Twilight and the bed and watched the telekinesis with fascination, only a tracking ear turned backwards letting Twilight know she was listening as the alicorn spoke, “whatever medical expertise you can get on her without getting anypony in trouble would be great. Whatever's going on here, obviously the official, uniformed ponies we met were less than friendly, but you're very friendly, so are there others like you who will help us?” she asked.
Astilbe turned to her now that the magic display of setting Pinkie in bed was over. She was biting her lip. “Eh. You just put a naked pony in our stage bed. We like to keep it clean. We could've at least put her in some underwear, first...” she whined.
She then popped open her saddlebags and threw a huge pile of clothes at the pony's hooves. “You two, get dressed! I'll watch over my lookalike, of course! To answer your question, yes. But there's not many, and they can't let anypony else know they're friendly to you. There's not many here in Delphi, at least. I hear way off in The Abyss there's unicorn remnants in the mountains, though, and even a huge pan-racial city right in the middle of the continent called Bastion, up on Canterlot mountain. And sorry but I really can’t help but ask – why do you all have tattoos on your flanks?”
“You mean our cutie marks?” Twilight asked.
Given how friendly and helpful their host was being, there was no reason to deny her request for them to dress, so they set to it.
“They're called cutie marks?” Astilbe echoed. “Oh – no, you put these on first, they go under the other clothes, it's called underwear...” she corrected them as they were dressing.
They were too distracted to bother asking why, so they just complied.
“Yeah, cutie marks just kinda magically appear when you find your calling in life – don't you get them here?” AJ asked.
Come to think of it, every pony we’ve seen has been wearing clothes that hid their flank...
Astilbe shook her head, wide-eyed. “Nuh-uh! That sounds kinda freaky – like magic everywhere all the time, just waiting to tattoo your back end? Then again – I really need to get over my fear of magic. I'm sorry, it's just kind of hard to get over after so many years here. It's... Mesmerizing, amazing, but also scary...”
Twilight spoke as she finished dressing, “well, then that means the ambient magic in Equestria doesn't exist here. I guess that's not too surprising... So, you said there are others who will help us? If I leave Pinkie here, can you keep her safe with them, then? And Applejack?”
“Yes! But I didn't say there were others here! But I can take care of these two,” Astilbe answered.
AJ froze halfway through buttoning a shirt on to face her alicorn friend. “Hey – what? I'm comin' with you, –”
“No. And that's final.” Twilight finished putting a foreleg through a sleeve of some dress she found, and met her friend's determined glare. “We wouldn't be in this mess in the first place if I was just -” she kicked a hoof on the floor.
“Careful with the wood floor!” Astilbe interjected.
“- if I was just more assertive about making up my mind and hiding that book!” she finished.
“Twi, both the princesses themselves said you had to read it!” Applejack replied, meeting her friend's solidness with her own.
“Well -” the alicorn doubted, then shook her head “- we can worry about that later, but for now, I'm putting my hoof down about you coming with me to get Rarity. I know I promised to take you here – well, I have. And I'm sorry but I really shouldn't have brought either of you here, actually. This – you saw what happened to Pinkie, this is unlike anything we've faced before. And when it comes down to it, I can fly, shoot beams of energy, throw up shields and teleport, and there’s no harmony magic in this land! Or at least there’s no cutie marks, so something is terribly different and wrong here, as if that wasn’t obvious enough...”
Applejack met Twilight’s determination with her own, leaning foward and spreading her forelegs like she was preparing to fight. “No, Twilight! You were like this back when we went to fight Nightmare Moon but remember it took all’a us! I thought you knew better!”
“And we don’t have all of us! I -” Twilight bit her lip and turned her head for a moment, taking a sharp breath in before continuing, “Maybe I saved Pinkie but it’s my fault all this is happening in the first place and I’m not going to let that happen to you, too! I’ll keep you here by force if I have to, because I’m not - I’m not letting that happen again! Rarity, and now Pinkie Pie - this is enough!” Tears were fresh in her eyes again and her breathing was ragged. “And - and we don’t even know if Rarity’s alive!”
The other two standing ponies were wide-eyed at her.
Twilight continued, “I’m only going out there because we need to find Rarity, but...”
Astilbe turned to both of them and spoke up, “Is Rarity the name of that white unicorn with a blue-purple mane in a black cloak that came by the street I found you two at, earlier? I was actually along there to see if there was anything special about the place as to why she showed up there. Hah, I was even better than the police at cracking that case of figuring out where she appeared in the city! Either that or you didn't show up in the same place, or they just didn't think it was significant, which would be odd – but then again why would -”
“Yes! Well what happened to her!?” “What the hay happened!?” Twilight and AJ both interrupted her back at the same time.
“Yeah! What happened?” Pinkie's weak voice followed from the bed a second later.
“Well... Word is she was shot and captured.” Astilbe hesitantly answered. “But the rumors about these kinda things are usually lies, so... Maybe she wasn't?” she offered some thread of hope.
Twilight's wings flared as her face was smacked by a distraught look.
“Well how do we find out?” Applejack eagerly asked.
Astilbe explained with an unsettling nonchalance, “Well, that's really not that easy... Sometimes they'll take some random other prisoner and scrape their forehead real bad to make it look like they removed a horn and have them executed, saying it was the unicorn, and they can find one that looks surprisingly similar to the real one that was in the dome. I'm honestly really surprised if she got away, though. They should've been able to catch this kind of thing, that's exactly what the dome guard and police are for, surely there’s something going on about this...”
“That's our friend y'all're talkin' about!” The farmhorse's nostrils flared, her body lowered in an aggressive stance.
“Woah, easy, friend, didn't we just have a nice hug?” Astilbe waved a hoof defensively at her.
“I think we're all just – shocked and upset right now,” Twilight diffused the situation. Though she was still clearly frazzled, she could feel her planning side of self starting to take control again. “You helped us – you do care, don't you? - and how do we find out what happened to Rarity, or where she is?”
“O-of course I care!” the local pony stammered in surprise. “Why'd you think otherwise? Oh – wait, my tone? I guess I didn't convey concern very well...” she scratched her chin, perking an eyebrow and looking up, then looked back at her guests. “Well, you should know,” - she brought a hoof proudly to her chest and sat on her haunches - “I am risking my life just talking to you three. They'd take me to town square if they knew I was doing this – especially helping you! Why, I'd be the real star of the show, what, saving my doppleganger and all.” She glanced at Pinkie.
Worry came across Astilbe's face. “Come to think of it, I should probably hide with her for awhile, at least until we can find out if they're looking for me or not. Trust me, I live on that stage – I guess it'd be fitting if I died on a stage, too, but I'd really rather not.” She put a hoof on her neck, tugging at the collar of her dress, grinning and laughing uneasily.
“As for your friend, me and – uh, myself and I – have been trying to investigate just what happened. But the reports are always so full of lies, and random panicked ponies aren't very helpful, and then you gotta be careful in how you go about asking questions...” She sighed. “So far we haven't been able to piece together exactly what happened but – I am on the case! Why don't you three just wait here and I can go take a look –” she turned and started walking out of the room as she spoke.
Twilight just furrowed her brows, some suspicion of what she meant coming to mind. But before she could say anything, Applejack cut Astilbe off as she turned to leave. “Now hold on! Don't go runnin' off before we come to any conclusions.”
“Uhm...” at her objection, Astilbe turned and faced them again, nervously freezing.
“So, what you're saying is, you're still gathering information? Well, so are we. And I guess we won't be much help without knowing anything about this place. It looked like a pretty big place to get lost in. Will your methods be better than just searching for her?” Twilight asked.
“Mhm, definitely!” she answered and nodded, “Your friend is either out of the dome, hiding deep in some building somewhere we can't get to, or in a prison. And no matter which of those it is – just searching won't find her. By now, she's either safe somewhere, or practically already dead...”
Pinkie piped in from her bed, her voice more sharply awake than before, “You said they'd do some stuff to you for helping us – uh, 'take you to town'? And something about being a star and dying on a stage? Is that what they'd do to Rarity? Kill her on some stage?”
Astilbe's tone turned thoughtful again. “Well, I guess they wouldn't kill me on stage, so much as I'd be – I dunno, hanging over it? A few inches into it?” She stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and tilted her head, “Bluegh” then sat back upright, her pupils shrinking for just a moment, “but I'm really not into the kinda stuff they do before that to the unicorns. Not my kinda thing!”
The local's tone suddenly turned frantic, “Would they do that to me if I got caught helping you three!? I was helping a pony who was helping a unicorn, is that direct enough to be considered a 'close ally' rather than 'consorting with'?” The fear was quickly wiped away. “But let's just not think about it and just avoid getting caught, okay?”
“Speak sense, Astilbe!” the farmhorse demanded, her tail jerking side to side in agitation.
“They'd hang me, okay!” She huffed in frustration. “Maybe even torture me on-stage in front of everypony first so they can all get their hate and rage off on me even more when I die – not my kinda gig, okay!? They put you up on a raised stage, there's a big cross-beam over your head, they tie a rope around it and a slipknot at the other end, they tie you up, put you on a trapdoor on the stage, the slipknot around your neck, and open the trapdoor so you fall through and hang by your neck! And you have a coil of rope around your chest so I know you know what rope is!” She bristled, even more frustrated than Applejack was.
“That's horrible! No wonder you didn't want to say all that!” Pinkie commented from her bed, her face pitifully stricken.
“Oh. Well then,” AJ's aggression was gone, replaced by surprise. Her ears flopped down to the sides of her head. “I – I mean I heard they used to do that kinda thing back before Celestia had Tartarus to send the worsta' the worst, to, but...”
“CELESTIA!?” Astilbe hopped in place. “Really, where are you three from!? Celestia as in the mythical ancient alicorn that Clover the Clever described!? Who ruled over a unified Equestria before she banished her sister and fell into depression and her kingdom fell apart and The Great Winters began?”
They all blinked in surprise at the sudden news.
“Well, duh.” Pinkie answered. “It's not like there's more than one 'Celestia'.”
Twilight eagerly stepped forward. “Yes, but – you mentioned Clover the Clever – so you're describing the events of the first Hearth's Warming? The Interregnum of the Princesses?”
“'Interregnum'? No, she just fell from power. Unless wherever you're from –” just as quickly as she lit up, she stopped, caught in thought for a long moment. Then she continued, “then how did you get here? Where are you from?”
Applejack looked around her companions uneasily, “Look, I dunno if we really got time to chit-chat. Twi told me to stay here with Pinks, but she can't just stick around and talk.”
Twilight shook her head, “No, obviously flying around out there isn't going to get much done. However Astilbe does it, I think she’s right, we need the information she knows about this place and how to find Rarity. You saw the city out there, and how they responded to us. Either Rarity's found other friendly ponies or she's way out there somewhere, and we don't even know which way to look.
“Until we at least know what direction she's in, we're more likely to get further from her than closer by wandering around. And she might've even been captured. I'd like to find out whatever happened, then we'll know whether to even look for her or rescue her – and if we have to look for her, we'd need to know which direction to even go in so we don't just get further away. Odds are against us on that.”
AJ sighed, then sat down. “So what are we supposed to do, then? Have a slumber party down here while she's out there gettin' hunted an' hung?”
“Actually it's 'hanged' when referring to ponies,” Astilbe chimed in again.
AJ just growled at her.
“I'm not happy with it, either, but it's our only choice until we learn more,” Twilight asserted. “I gave you the reasons. Astilbe knows this place, we don’t, and it almost got Pinkie killed, so we’ve got to learn more before we go back out.”
“Twi, if AB went missin' we wouldn't be waitin' around for information, we'd be out lookin' for her!”
“This isn't a filly lost in the woods – and we shouldn't waste our time looking for her if she's in a dungeon and we need to find out and go rescue her,” Twilight replied. Her voice was level, but the hints of frustration were there.
The farmpony pursed her lips, thinking for a moment, then huffed. “Yeah. Okay. You got a point. I wouldn't want to go lookin' for her if she's in a dungeon. I guess we gotta figure out if she's captured or not, first, but I haven't got the faintest idea how we'd do that. But that doesn't mean I gotta be happy 'bout sittin' here and waitin' for Astilbe to find out...” she stewed, looking down at the floor.
“So... Given all this, don't you think it's fair you tell me at least where you came from?” Astilbe asked again with a nervous smile.
While AJ's tone was testy, she still gave a truthful reply, “Would ya believe us if we said we came from – uh – or that your whole world is inside a book?”
“This – it doesn't feel like the Haycarte's Method,” Twilight quietly objected, sitting down in an intense thinking pose. Everypony turned to her, so she started explaining, “Celestia and Luna spoke like this world would take us to another one, not that the other one wouldn't be real, but – then again, they weren’t explicit about that, and that time we got turned into Spike's Power Ponies didn't feel like Haycarte's method usually does, either. I guess – we probably are in a book? After all, there was that text on the book from when Rarity went in, and... Yeah, I guess we probably are.” She gave her old friend a disturbed look.
“Well, part'a me is comforted this isn't real but another part is really disturbed at just how real it feels...” Applejack's voice tapered off as her gaze deepened and she looked past the floor.
Astilbe just watched with growing confusion as they spoke.
“You think it feels real to you?” Pinkie couldn't help but add in with a moan. “Then again, this does feel really unreal to me, too...”
Applejack's shell-shocked face quickly melted away under a fiery determination as she looked back up at Pinkie as she spoke. She turned to stand and face her companions. “Look, whatever all that gets into – this I know – we need to save Rarity. 'cause obviously we can get hurt here, and I'd rather not find out what happens if we get killed in here. Even if it just pops us out, it's sure not to be very fun. If this is what gettin' injured does to Pinkie while ponies are tryin' to save her life -” she glanced back at her bedridden friend, “- I'd rather not see what it's like if Rarity got choked to death by some angry crowd, 'specially not after all she's been through with Sweetie Belle'n all. She needs us! So let's get to crackin' on this case! - uh, however we go about doin' that whole information thing.”
“Right,” Twilight nodded, “But, to tell the truth... That's not a safe bet.” She looked off to the side as she remembered her meeting with the high princesses. “Celestia and Luna spoke of this world like there was real, mortal danger, that it could kill us. They said that directly. That I’d…” die here, she mentally finished.
She faced Applejack again. I’m not telling them that. I can’t change it if reading the book was a death sentence. But… They said it was only the closest thing I could understand, so not literal? She felt a heavy dread. Maybe I die saving Rarity. But I don’t intend to let her die. “...That I might die here if I read it. So I think we can really die here. But I’d really rather not find out.”
“Are you saying I – and this world - aren't real?” Astilbe perked an eyebrow at them and tilted her head again, one ear folding back.
“Well...” Twilight started hesitantly.
“Well I feel real to me!” Astilbe put a hoof down, standing back up. “I'll only help you if you tell me you really believe this is real, okay? Because this is the real me! Not the actress Astilbe, not any of my characters – but the Cerulean who's gonna die in a public execution someday, or see the dawn come – one or the other.” She glared at them intensely, a flame sparking in her eyes. Her mane and tail seemed even poofier than usual.
“Okay.” Twilight nodded, meeting her resolve with finality in her voice. “This is real to us. If it's real enough to do that to Pinkie, it's real. And we've got a friend out there that we need to save from it. So how do we help find her?”
“Well...” Astilbe relaxed, looking down as she thought. She walked over to her doppleganger, then sat by her bedside, looking down at her, then back to her new friends. “For now, we just wait. I think – yeah, I'll trust you ponies with all of it. How you saved each other back there – and yeah, you even saved me when you took me with you, teleporting around – and if you were with the police somehow, I'm sure you would've taken me in by now even if just for my body – so yeah. I've got some friends.
“I kinda hid them a little, earlier... Really, me and they are on this case, not just me. And they are on it. They'll be back later tonight with what they've found out. I think it's best for everypony that you not see who they are – it's this thing the Ceruleans taught us called 'compartmentalization'. I should lie low for a bit until I can be sure they won't come for me because of Pinkie - the real reason I tried to walk out a minute ago is to meet them so they know not to come in here, so we can keep knowledge of each other compartmentalized. But when they're back... We'll learn a bit more about what happened to your friend. That much I promise I'll share. But we can't go out or you'll all just get shot again like Pinkie did. So until they get back and we can make a plan... Could you please tell me about this place you came from? Where apparently there's magic everywhere all the time? And about Celestia!?”
The governor felt air over her cyan wings and through her natural, rainbow hair. She was high above the clouds on a stormy night flight. The air was warm, and the sky pitch black and featureless as ever. Far below, flashes of light thundered in the howling clouds.
She rolled into a dive.
Far below, there was a gallows scaffold in a courtyard surrounded by a large crowd of ponies.
She stood on a balcony overlooking the courtyard. Her father stood in front of her, pinning a medal on her chest. “You'll be so strong, I know it! You'll be the one to bring spring and dawn! You'll defeat all the unicorns and be the greatest leader we've ever known! Everything depends on you. If you don't...”
She looked up over the balcony's railing. There were guards, the gallows were ready, but there was no prisoner. To her left were crowds of ponies from the Delphi dome, all staring intently at her. To her right, behind the scaffold, an endless sea of dark grey, faceless unicorns, staring forward at the structure with their eyeless heads.
“This is what must be done to hold the world together!” her father's voice thundered.
She saw the prisoner, now – it was herself, a pegasus mare, screaming and crying, desperately writhing against ropes that bound her limbs and wings, being dragged up the stairs.
She was on the scaffold now, bound, in the place of the prisoner. She spun to the crowd and tried to cry out – no, you can't do this! We're all you have! The winter is caused by the unicorns, if it wasn't, then we've done something unspeakable – but it is, so we're not monsters! We're saviors! We only did what we had to!
As she cried out mutely, she felt a noose drop over her head, then tighten around her neck. The trap door fell open under her.
She fell for seconds, then landed in mushy snow. She looked around to see endless frozen bodies around her. Above her, the dark clouds swirled and two vague forms howled.
She cried and fought her bonds, only to sink deeper into the snow, and hear the howling clouds laugh louder and louder.
“Just, just kill me then! End it! It's too much! Just end it!”
She sprang up in her bed with a gasp. She was shivering and soaked with cold sweat. Her bedchamber was dark and silent, except for the ticking of an old, ornate grandfather clock. The room was neatly organized. A dresser, large desk and a vanity furnished it, all made of ornate, treated cherry-red wood with golden and silver accents.
She lunged out of bed and made for her bathroom. She threw her clothes off, and rinsed in her shower, letting the warm water wash the sweat and nightmare away. But as she let the water wash over her, she paused, knowing this wasn't a nightmare she could wake up from.
She tried closing her eyes and focusing on the luxury she relished, but her mind wouldn't leave her alone. So she turned the water off, dried off and slipped on some underwear before turning a lamp on and sitting down in front of her vanity. She looked at her reflection. “I'm not getting back to sleep anytime soon, am I?” she yawned and shook her head.
She hardened her face and bore down on her reflection, “No, I have my duty! The purpose for my life! I won't dishonor all those who died before by faltering now! The world needs me!” She stomped a hoof on the floor, but with no more force than a regular step. She sighed, bowed her head, her ears flopping down and her expression softening.
She looked back up at her reflection and noticed a bit of the rainbow color in her hair was starting to show again at the roots. I'll need to bleach it again soon to not look so ridiculous... But the light frizziness, thin hairs and split ends showed how bleaching had taken its toll.
She went over to her dresser and put on a fresh nightgown and a large, warm robe. She made her way to a set of curtains and parted them to reveal a glass door leading to a balcony. She slid open the door, a wall of icy air washing over her as she stepped outside.
The stone balcony overlooked an enormous yard with lush gardens and great walls around her entire estate. Even here from her second floor, she could only see the most distant parts of the city over the courtyard's walls. The estate was set on the peak of the highest hill near the center of the dome, meaning beyond its gardens and surrounding park, miles of city lights glowed in the eternal night, even dimmer for it being a simulated night. In just a few hours, the glow would brighten, even though now the city of Delphi hardly slept.
She marveled at the glowing ember of life under the black sky. Why does it take ending so many lives to keep it going? She wondered. If only it weren't for magic, this world might know spring already.
She felt a pang of guilt. And yet I use magic.
But Veil is... she remembered the cloaked unicorn. She’s odd. She says she wants to hurt me by doing exactly what I want her to. But she's proven her loyalty over years. She's too useful. If it takes using a little magic to end the winter, then so be it... I just can't let anypony know. Not even Sunfeather.
Using evil to stop greater evil. Like so many other sacrifices...
Her stomach churned as the conflict refused to rest for even a minute. This is what it takes to hold the world together, her father had told her as the struggling stallion was taken to the scaffold in front of them, herself hardly more than a filly at the time. She still felt horrified and sympathetic, imagining herself in his place. Her sympathy turned to morbid curiosity until together, curiosity and horror became obsession.
She shook her head again, trying to think of something else. Veil is succeeding, isn't she? I've gotten exactly what I wanted, and there's nothing I want less...
She looked to the industrial district of the city, far to her left, where buildings were much larger than elsewhere, and brighter blue lights held secure perimeters around the infrastructure that kept them alive. I should work more on the effort to revitalize the search for more Sunstones. High Command surveyors found two more north of Hatten, proving that they are naturally occurring.
Her mind wandered to reviewing events from yesterday – twice, unicorns had appeared in the city, and neither time were they caught. It was an incursion unheard of. Brigadier General Icewind had wanted to use large mortar emplacements to fire dust clouds to inhibit magic, deep in crowded areas of the city, where the gem powder would scratch and draw blood from the lungs of countless innocent ponies.
“You are not to fire, I repeat, you are NOT to fire!” she had yelled into that radio while the city panicked. Why had Icewind ordered such an insane thing? Her heart sank as she realized, it could only have been a bluff. While they had faked the capture of the first unicorn, the highest offices of The Order of The Hatten Vanguard would know it had gotten away. And now, in the eyes of national headquarters, she would be the reason the first one got away, while Icewind could be commended for her devotion against The Unicorns' Winter.
If she had agreed to the barrage, though, it may have driven more unrest in the already-strained city, and would've certainly led to at least dozens of deaths. Icewind had been willing to take the risk – to bet that the governor would counter the orders.
But what am I going to do now? She's got me right in her sights! I don't know if – or how she'll act on that, but...
Have her hanged, of course!
Or even ask Veil to kill her – no, Veil refuses to kill ponies, that's one of the two things she'll never do. Kill ponies or lie. And who knows when she'll pop by next to even take a request...
And what difference does it make whether I order a tribunal or a secret unicorn? I've killed enough ponies. I'm tired of seeing ponies die under my command.
If I do nothing about it, then what will happen? Probably Icewind will just get some recognition, I might get a reprimand... At worst, I could be executed for unicorn sympathy. But would that really be that bad? Then I'll never have to send another pony to their death again...
She shifted her forehooves apart, as if to prove to herself that the cuffs on her robe weren't bonds. She groaned at her thoughts' unrelenting assault. She felt a desire, a striving for relief from the prison of her mind. She looked back and flexed her wings, considering a night flight.
No, I can't be seen flying around for fun. I have an image to uphold.
Her head sunk a little again. An image.
She turned and re-entered her room, then went to a small wooden box on the wall that had a bronze horn and a lever on the side. She gave the lever a few flicks up and down, then held it down and waited a moment for the familiar, grainy voice to pipe in over the machine's speaker. “Yes? What can I do for you, ma'am?”
“Send one of my private servants.”
“Ah, yes. Which shall I send?”
She thought for a moment – she could sooth her mind, or ignore it by entertaining her body. She knew what she wanted, but the more often she chose her, the more she felt she was at risk. Yet, tonight, with her heart in such pain, and feeling so lost and alone, she chose the pony who had nothing to offer her body, but gave everything her heart and mind needed.
“Sunfeather. With her usual things.”
“Yes, ma'am. We'll send her up right away.”
She flicked the lever back up and looked around the room. She walked back out to her balcony again, and began to sing while she waited. She knew the words to the song by heart – every good member of the Hatten Vanguard did. It was an ancient song, written when the first Great Winters fell, the eternal night began, and few in the world survived. She knew the guards would overhear, but even if her voice was far from immaculate, there was no shame in patriotism to The Vanguard.
And though imperfect, her voice still gave the song the grace it deserved.
"Though long and dark This endless night Yet deep inside I keep my light"
She paused, slouching in her posture. Her throat felt caught as huge crowds of ponies came back to her mind's eye. The liberation of the Delphi dome had occurred only eleven years ago, and it had been bloody. The unicorns from Bastion did not release their brainwashed subjects readily. Resistance was constant, the populace thought they could even publicly denounce the Vanguard's rule. The first purges had been done by her father, to maintain order, to protect the world from the cold outside.
But only a few years ago, more purges were needed. Their resistance might have spread and brought down the last spark of life that was left in the world, were it not for the swift response she had ordered, that had led to filled prisons, and the end of almost two hundred thousand lives – decimating the meager population of her dome, one of only a few pockets of life left in the world.
And even worse, if she hadn't, she knew she would've been replaced with somepony “stronger”, and she trusted nopony else to have the world's good as their true objective.
In her mind's eye, she came face to face with it all once more. The crowds full of hate, the mass arrests and executions of different methods. Originally she had used great gallows towers she'd had built for the purges, but they couldn't kill enough fast enough, so ponies were forced into traincars by masses to freeze to death in The Abyss – the endless ice sheets outside the dome. All the while, she had watched, horrified yet enthralled at her power as she watched ponies struggle for a breath they would never take – how the guards ignored their wild, begging pleas, yet at her cold command she had sent them there.
I've always dreamed of doing this. Protecting The Order of the Hatten Vanguard and preserving ponies' lives... Even if it means ending some of them. There was simply no other way. I'm not wrong to do what I must! Wasn't it my right? My duty? They were the ones in the wrong for trying what would kill us all!
But can I blame fools for being fooled?
She sighed, slouching even further. I keep my light?... She mentally echoed the last line she'd just sang. If it was right, then why do I feel like I no longer have any light?
Maybe I was wrong to enjoy it... But what difference does it make!? It was going to happen anyways! Either I did it or the cold did! And the ones that were frozen – died the exact same way they would've brought on themselves and everypony else! I even took lengths when General Icewind wanted to choke them in the downwind fumes from the dome – I took lengths to make sure they froze, instead – died the same way they would've if they'd had their wishes granted! I was in the right!
Then why does it feel like this?
She kept singing.
"And long I wait For b'loved dawn Yet hopes of life, Forever gone
Why do I dream, Of things unseen? Are they not so? It cannot be."
The old legends were denounced as fantastic myth, which they clearly were. An impossible dream many shared. Yet she could understand why so many believed them. A godly unicorn-pegasus hybrid that lived forever and led a united ponykind? That had brought the world out of chaos millenia ago, and banished her own sister to save it again? Sometimes it's nice to imagine it's true, even though it isn't.
What if it wasn't your own sister, though? Would you have done it, then, Celestia? What if instead of your sister, it was hundreds of thousands of ponies you never knew the names of?
In the world before The Great Unicorns' Winter, a world of plentiful harvest, and beautiful day, there was no shortage, and no powerful order was necessary. There was no endless night, no chains or starvation. Only happy ponies, living free, happy lives under the warm sun.
What a beautiful, but insane fantasy. That is not our past, but our future. But we can only get there by doing these horrible things.
"And yet I know That when I rest With azure sky I will be bless'd."
How much longer must I wait for my azure sky? How much longer must I preserve The Order at the cost of my heart and soul? When can I finally know my unending rest?
She sat down, and a tear fell from her cheek. When will this cold, cruel life, finally be over?
She jumped with a flare of her wings when she heard a knock on her door. She wiped her eyes and cheeks, then went to the bedroom door, peering through a peep-hole. Sure enough, the yellow pegasus stood in the hall, habitually halfway hiding her blue eyes behind her pink mane. Four piercings on the outside edge of each ear indicated her slave status in society, with gold rings through two showing a slight relief from the full depth of it, and aluminum earrings on the other two showing she was still in servitude. She wore a covering bathrobe and a pair of saddlebags.
The governor opened the door and let the slave in. “Come in, Sunfeather.” She poked her head into the hallway, making sure nopony else was around before closing the door behind her guest.
“I must confess, Spectrum, I did overhear a bit of your singing through the door. May we please sing the second verse? The song is so dreary and sad without it,” she asked with her usual soft demeanor. “May I?”
“Oh, of course,” she answered.
Without further prompting, the gentle pegasus began singing in the room,
"Cold and dreary Is this waste But warmth of heart Is endless grace"
The governor was surprised she'd started immediately – and that like herself, she didn't need a songbook to read from. She then joined in,
"And now I know I have a purpose With love's pure light We can endure
And so I live With kindness pure The greatest warmth To darkness cure
Cry not my soul Long not for death For with this life I have been bless'd”
“There, see? The song loses its purpose without the second verse. It's not all bad, there's little moments of love's pure light to warm the cold and make it all worthwhile,” Sunfeather said.
Full Spectrum couldn't help but crack a smile, feeling that sliver of warmth. “That is really nice... Go ahead and take one of my nightgowns to wear for now, I know they send you up here in much less than that.” She sat down, facing away from her one friend, giving her some privacy to change.
“Thank you,” was all she replied with, before she heard a dresser drawer get pulled open. Sunfeather knew where they were. “So, what did you call me up here to talk about?”
“The usual.” She sighed, her ears hanging limp as she faced the finely carpeted floor. “I'm going to lose this game soon. Without my confidence, I can't keep up. I won't last a month without it - I have to get it back. If I don't, then It's only a matter of time before I wind up getting killed. I can feel it. I know it. But ever since that incident with Major Crimson Fire... Damn, I'm so pathetic...”
“You're pathetic?” she echoed, disbelief drenching her words. “No, no, you saved my life! I'm pathetic, not you.”
“No, you're strong,” the governor simply answered.
“How?” she answered softly but surprised. “I – they were going to have me killed when I couldn't keep up my sixteen-hour obligation. I'm so weak I'm useless as a slave, even...”
“Because you don't sit there, unable to handle your problems and just spilling them out on some other pony,” she started. Sunfeather walked up to, then sat next to her, now wearing a nightgown that matched her friend's in place of the robe.
The cyan pegasus turned to face her by her side. “You – I've never seen you doubt yourself, Sunny. Yet that's all I do.” She looked to the floor again. “It's pathetic and disgusting, I'm supposed to be the powerful leader. I'm going to die soon because I don't deserve this station. Not when I keep doubting everything...”
Sunfeather flared her wings halfway out. Even in a motivated tirade, her voice still had a softness that made Spectrum feel the kindness of the motivation behind it. “No! You – you saved my life, Full Spectrum! You definitely deserve it! If you don't do your job well, then what happens to me? If anypony else were in your place, I'd be long dead by now! So don't say that! You're wonderful and strong and kind – unlike anypony else I've ever served under! You're so wonderful, anypony with half a mind would rather serve under you than be free!”
Spectrum looked at her friend, concerned. “I – I... I don't know. I'm not even strong enough to protect you. You know what I did last week? I had a major's sister executed for consorting with the unicorns – a special operations major. I was too weak to have him executed, too, to eliminate a possible threat, yet I wasn't kind enough to spare her life. In the end, I was neither strong nor kind. I watched her die, Sunfeather. It doesn't hurt me anymore to see ponies die – and I didn't realize that until then, when it hurt me again for the first time since I started the purges, and now I can't stop thinking about it...”
Her look picked up a sudden intensity, her own wings flaring halfway out as she stood up and leaned in to her slave, “I'm a monster, and I hate it! Why do you sit there and listen!? Why do you tolerate me at all!? You – you're a risk to my existence, you see through me – by every right I should have you executed for the things I've told you – and what if I did? What if I accused you of consorting with the unicorns and had you hanged tomorrow morning, and came just to watch, how would you feel about me, then, when you writhe for a breath you'll never take!?”
The frail pegasus began to shake as she shrunk before her master. “I – I...” Her body urged her to stand and run – to escape, to flee, to fight back – anything to escape the pony that could have her killed with a mere accusation. But she stayed. This one pony had saved her life – and gave her something beyond the garden she tended to, to make the life she'd saved worth living. “I would feel betrayed. D-don't you like me – after all this time? Don't I mean anything to you?” Tears welled in her eyes.
The governor huffed in frustration, then softened and sighed, her wings falling limp, bowing to her sides while her head bowed down. “Yes. You do. You mean a lot to me. You're the only one I can... talk to. Like this. You know, I'm not like the other leaders at all. Sometimes I feel like they sense that.” She sat back down. “I don't think I've ever seen any of them show any compassion beyond political favors. Anyone else would've had you – and a few other slaves just to make a point – executed when you failed your regular sixteen hours that seventh time, and made all the other servants watch. They all rule with a vicious strength, and I'm afraid of it. I keep trying to match it, but I keep shrinking from it. I'll do things like allow a prisoner to go untortured, or have an exhausted slave moved up from second-class.
“That's why I say I'm weak. I just – I can't do what they do, like they do. Other governors, theater commanders, national officers, my subordinates, even. I've managed to keep their incentives aligned for this long, but how much longer can I do it when I'm not willing to do the things that they are? That's why I'm weak. I just can't do what they do.”
“Then – then I'm glad you're weak!” She lunged in to the governor's chest and began crying, still shaking from her earlier threat of a question.
She startled, then relaxed and put a hoof around her. Instead of being scared off, she – she dove into me? She blinked in surprise.
Then, the disturbing realization about her friend came over her. Well, where else is she going to go?... I'm all she has. Her old manager tried to have her killed. Why would she like or trust any of her managers any more?
If being strong means not having moments like this, then I'm not sure I want to be strong, either.
But if I'm not, they'll kill her and me. I'm trapped now, really. If I want to stay here, safe and with her – well, I can't. I can only stay safe, or stay with her.
I know exactly what I must do to prove to them how devoted I am. Her eyes took on a dark shadow.
If I'm to survive, I will have to have her, Icewind and major Crimson Fire, at least, accused and executed, just to prove that I don't have weaknesses, to show them I'm not to be trifled with and to kill the major who may hold a grudge.
I could just save some other pony, and they'd feel loyal to me like this. They'd cling to my chest after I saved their life – and if they don't, I have them killed and save another until I get one that does.
But could I really know myself as the pony who they can depend on – who's loyal to them?
If I do that, I can never have a true moment like this again. Nopony, however close they are to me, however much they mean to me, will ever be safe from ME. And whether or not they know that...
She looked in the vanity's mirror as her crying, sweet and innocent friend was comforted in her wings.
...I will.
I will forever know I betrayed Sunfeather. I could have her and others killed for my security, and replace her by saving some other pony and they'd cry on my chest, but she'd still be dead, and I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life.
What's the point of living, if I live like that?
No. Whatever they throw at me, I'll stay loyal to Sunfeather, loyal to the ponies of the Delphi Dome – and to the Hatten Vanguard, all at once. If they kill me, so be it. If they hold her life as leverage to force me to do something for them, whatever. But I'll do whatever I must to protect her. If I fail, then I won't suffer for it for long, anyways.
But it's too late to keep her out of this. I can only try to keep pretending she's just a sex toy to me, and hopefully if I add some more mares to my secret harem, nopony who discovers it will suspect. She stands out too much as the only one.
She shuttered at the thought. I must, though. To protect her.
There was a twinge of doubt – a quick passing question, but if I don't stay strong, then someone who wouldn't have saved her will come along, and all the good I do will be over. If somepony else takes my place, then who will keep the ponies of this estate safe?
Well, if I betray them, then what does it matter if I keep somepony from coming along who does the same thing? And even if I do, that's no assurance that I'll survive, either. Political opponents are dangerous either way. But at least if I protect this small haven of peace, then somewhere in the world it will exist at all.
So she made up her mind, feeling conviction swell within her, making her voice firm and confident. She looked down at the pony wrapped in her forelimbs.
“I know something happened, and you have no family to fall back on anymore. I don't know what happened to them -” for a brief moment Sunfeather tensed as hard as stone. All affection vanished from her hug for that second as her breath caught. Then the moment was over, and her affection returned, but now it felt a bit reluctant. “- but you have me. I'll protect you, Sunfeather. Even if it kills me – and it probably will – but I'll protect you no matter what with everything I have.” The reluctance disappeared from her slave's hug.
“Oh no, you – I couldn't bear it if...” Sunfeather couldn't force out the last word.
“I want to, damnit!” Spectrum suddenly barked, surprising herself, even, “I want to protect you! I'm so tired of everypony being a monster, or a corrupted victim of a monster that must be killed! I'm so tired of playing a monster just to keep others I've never even met alive! Just this once – can't I have something positive in my life? Something aside from a steel hide, playing politics or killing for a greater cause? For once can't I have something that doesn't make me miserable, and hate myself for enjoying it?!” She panted, then calmed her breathing.
The pink-maned pegasus pulled out of the hug just enough to meet the governor's magenta eyes with her own, blue eyes, and neither pair was dry. She wasn't sure what to make of her servant's expression – it was mostly just surprised.
The governor continued more gently, “The other staff might think our relationship is different, but you're not just some concubine to me. I'm not even interested in mares like that. But you're so much more than some sex toy, you're my friend. You actually give me something worth living for. Something I'd die to protect. Please let me have that, it means more to me than life itself.” Her hold around her friend tightened into a hug. I'll even take her on that upcoming conference. That way, even as I travel to another dome on a train or stay there, she'll be under my personal protection.
That would draw too much attention to her, wouldn't it? No, not if I bring a lot of others and some of my own guard...
Sunfeather returned the hug. “Oh-okay. I... I don't have anything like that to offer you in return...” she sheepishly added.
“No, I can offer you what protection I can manage, but you... give me so much more. You're somepony I can trust.”
“Wha-... what about Nightgale?” the timid pegasus hesitantly asked.
Full Spectrum laughed a little. “Heh, he's – he's someone I can trust as my security officer – the only pony I know who's really loyal to me and not just in it for favors – well, aside from you. But you don't give me physical protection or political favors – you don't even give me lustful pleasure. You give me somepony I can talk to about the things that bother me – who will listen and care and won't take advantage of me –
“'Harmony shall sing over creation once more'... What a poor, pathetic creature to herald its return.” Her voice carried genuine sympathy amidst its condescension.
Less than an hour after Rarity placed her hoof on the enchanted page, her body lay still on the ice, both ice and fur solid black with soot. Over the fresh corpse, the black smoke parted in a space around a dark purple unicorn speckled with deeper purple patches on her snout. She was shrouded in a large, thick navy blue cloak fringed with a dark blue and purple pattern. “You are definitely the one I was with in the Mittipse. You poor, lost soul... I am tempted to take you home with me...” her voice tapered off in thought.
“Yet, you have not proven your worthiness, so I cannot bring you to my home. But I cannot let you truly die, either – not when there is so much more to gain from you.” A magenta glow shone around her horn and Rarity's chest, throat and face. “The slight echoes of life remain in your mind. Though your heart has stopped, and your breath is poisoned, enough is left to save, thanks to your ruby...”
Rarity gasped and coughed madly on the ice, yet remained unconscious. The magenta glow faded from her.
The robed unicorn looked over her shoulder, then back at Rarity. “Once they talk to you, and I have learned my fill from your mind, your life is in your own hooves once more. But even so, this will remain with you.” Her magic glowed again, this time on the fire ruby. “You're the most interesting thing to happen to this world in a very, very long time. Whatever magic brought you here was powerful and deep, even rivaling the Mittipse, or Staff of Eternities. I could feel it from the warmth of Eternal Refuge. Yet you don't seem to know what can be done with a fire ruby. Odd creature, you are.
“But for now...” She plucked a few sooty black hairs from the helpless unicorn's head. “I have a favor to conduct to help the forces of justice in this world.” She lightly chuckled to herself. “Justice, justice... Oh, 'forces of justice', you are the Vanguard, indeed, but not the Vanguard of the Hatten dome, no, you are the Vanguard of the end... 'Yea, even by the fire of their own triumph shall they be burned by the light of their false sun...'” she muttered, and produced a small, gold-chained emerald necklace from a saddlebag under her cloak.
As she placed the necklace around Rarity's neck, her form morphed – under the black soot, her white coat changed to a pink hue, her body twitching as magic flowed over it, even her mane and tail shifting in style. She took the gold-chained necklace off, and the illusion vanished. She replaced it again as a quick test, but this time the unconscious unicorn kept looking like her original self.
She nodded, took the emerald necklace off Rarity and tucked it back into her hidden saddlebag. “Now, I -” she suddenly froze, her amethyst eyes going wide as she snapped her head around. “Again!?” she breathed.
She laughed loudly, then shook her head, grinning. “I cannot believe such fortune! Perhaps this world has something new to offer me, yet?” she wondered. “I shall shadow this, and enjoy it greatly. So for now, dear unicorn, Fate be with you. I bid you adieu.”
With a polite bow and in a flash of light, she was gone. The gap in the smoke was immediately filled in again over the unconscious mare's body.
They were antsy to save their friend, so sitting around and talking about Equestria to somepony didn't sound all too appealing to them at first.
But Twilight's friends trusted her decisions, and the case was compelling. There was no use searching in a huge city trying to kill them when they didn't even know which direction to go looking in, and if she'd even been captured.
At one point Applejack had interrupted to ask if they couldn't look with Astilbe's friends, and that's when Astilbe began to explain the depth of just how daunting this world was. There were many things they needed to learn in order to not get shot at, even with an illusion spell to hide Twilight's horn. It was taboo for them to be seen without wearing clothes – but they couldn't wear anything over their head that would hide a horn. Certain things were okay to say, and others weren't, and they needed to carry some kind of papers with them at all times. And if they asked too many questions of the wrong kind, they could get arrested, tortured, and innocent ponies killed.
So are we going to go wandering through an entire city, searching every alleyway, basement and closet? While she's even more likely rotting in some dungeon or not even in the city?
She couldn't help but remember how Rarity had fought her for the book – how she was so desperate and panicked that she hadn't even stopped long enough to talk. I won't be like that. Let's do things in proper order. Not charging in blindly like she did. If only Rarity had taken the time to talk to me before going through, we could have gone in with her and stayed together. If she hadn't done that, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with.
I don't want to endanger all of my friends like that.
Not again. Not after I'm the reason she knew about the book to begin with.
And so they talked.
“I was studying magic under Princess Celestia at first -”
“She's the ruling princess where we came from.” AJ nodded.
“And you said – in your world, this one is just the inside of a book or something?” she asked, trying to make sense of the picture they painted.
“Maybe?” Twilight shrugged. “We don't really know. All we know is reading the book took us here. But we seem to agree about some point in history, at least. You recognize Celestia's name. That says something odd.”
“And Applejack looks identical to Gold Will.” Astilbe pointed at Applejack, then at Pinkie Pie. “And I'm looking into a mirror every time I look at Pinkie. What's with that? Really that's half the reason I believe you...”
“Just don't go using any mirror pools, I learned the hard way that that's a bad idea,” Pinkie warned with a nervous laugh and grin.
Astilbe looked back to Pinkie's friends. “And she even says things that are really confusing without context. She really is just like me! Uh, no offense – you and me both do that a lot.”
“Eh, none taken.” Pinkie shrugged it off, gritting her teeth for a moment of agony as she realized the motion was not a great idea with her injuries.
Astilbe continued to Applejack, “Anyway, do you have any siblings per chance? An older brother? A younger sister?”
“Uh – yeah, I got both'a those.”
“Well that settles it, then! This is a mirror pool!” Astilbe declared. “I actually have no idea what a 'mirror pool' is, though, but I like the name. Though I guess more like mirror-world or something? At any rate, how would you like to meet your brother and sister in this world, Applejack? Because you died here, and apparently Crimson cried a lot when you did. So I imagine they'd be happy to see you again.”
“Wait-what!?” she leaned back. “Whaddya mean I died here?”
“Well, your 'reflection' did, at least. Look, take it from me – if somepony asks if you want to see a unicorn, say 'no'. Unless it's me. Or somepony you already know to trust. But you don't just trust any friends. Not until you're like, very best friends and all. Ya'know?”
“Why?” Twilight asked, cocking her head.
“Well you see, the police like to do this thing where they'll have somepony working for them, just some random farmer pony or something, and you'll know them at your work place, and they'll ask you if you want to see one, or they might even give you some faux copy of 'The Journal of Clover the Clever', or something rebellious like that, and if you don't report them to the police, they'll have you arrested and executed the next day. It's a way to make sure ponies are loyal to them.”
“This place just gets worse and worse. It's like the worst,” Pinkie commented.
“You said it, sister.” Astilbe nodded.
“Now, hold on,” Applejack started, “You're saying that just like you're some 'reflection' of Pinkie Pie, there's some other version of Big Mac and Applebloom out there who've lost their sister – Gold Will – who was this world's version of me? I dunno, this is... Well it already got weird awhile ago, now it's just gettin' weirder an' weirder...”
“Also,” the local pony added, “his name is Crimson Fire, her name is Scarlet, and he'll be able to find out if Rarity is still alive or not. He's not with us, though, and he might even be the reason Gold Will was tested and executed in the first place. So however you feel like going about finding out – be sure to be very careful.”
“Are you tellin' me I can do the information-gatherin'?” she asked, halfway between a simple clarification and surprise.
“Yep. Best one for the job, too, probably. Except – oh nonono, maybe you shouldn't. Yeah, no, please don't? You... Well, depending on how good you are, you may get me killed. So there's always that.” She laughed nervously.
“Why are ponies like this here?” Pinkie finally asked.
It was a bombshell of a question that left her two Equestrian friends surprised they hadn't asked it already.
I guess I just took it for granted since Celestia said the book would do something terrible...
“Well,” Astilbe started, “Because the Hatten Vanguard believes the unicorns are responsible for The Great Winter. They even call it 'The Unicorn's Great Winter', or 'The Great Unicorn Winter'. They were kinda desperate. The domes had gone dark, sunlight was over – it was true, the domes have a limited lifespan, so we had to end the winter, somehow. Only thing is, the winter makes no sense. There's enough records to prove that it didn't used to be this way. Bones of animals and petrified plants all point to the whole world once being like the inside of the domes used to be a few decades ago. Countless records say the winter started about a thousand years ago, around the same time that re-unified Equestria fell apart. Unicorns changed the seasons, so it must be that unicorns create this winter. So they hate the unicorns.
“It makes its own kind of sense – kill everypony magic in the world and stop the magic winter, right? Of course, me and other 'Ceruleans' believe in Clover the Clever's Journal, which tells us exactly how to end the winter, but they refuse to believe in Windigos or that harmony is possible, and instead desperately hunt unicorns, hoping they can find whoever is causing the winter and kill them.”
“You're right.” Twilight nodded. “Where we come from, harmony defeated the Windigos a long, long time ago. Every year during winter, we have Hearth's Warming – a holiday to celebrate the friendship that defeated the Windigos, and they do cause winter.”
“Are you – are you serious?” Astilbe's voice broke, and her eyes watered. She stood up and took a few steps towards Twilight. “You mean... You actually defeated the Windigos – for good – wherever you came from?” she asked in disbelief. “And – and spring and summer and fall happen there?”
“Uhm... yeah?” Twilight answered, uncertain at what the pink pony would do next.
Astilbe fell at her hooves in a bow, then looked up at her. “You have to take me with you! Wherever you came from. Me and all my friends – we've been risking our lives for this. All the other ponies would only introduce disharmony in your world, but – we've been dying – literally, many of us have died, like Gold Will – for the world you describe!”
Twilight backed up uncomfortably. “I – I don't know how to get back yet, I'm sorry. But, I've seen enough of this place to believe you, so when I do -” She took one of Astilbe's forehooves in her own and raised her. “- I'll be absolutely sure you're repaid for the kindness you've shown us.”
The rebel pony's eyes were wide and teary, she froze for a few solid seconds, then threw her forelimbs wide and hugged Twilight. “Thank you! You have no idea how much that means to me!” Her voice rode the edge of breaking.
I just hope it's actually possible that you can come with us. Surely there's a way for us to leave this book, or this world, whichever it is. But can we take a native with us?
The words only appeared and started glowing on the page after Rarity entered, so, I don't think Astilbe is even real...
But is she?
After some long moments of hugging, Astilbe finally stepped back. “So – you recognize Clover the Clever, then? But – did you never even have the domes?”
She shook her head. “I don't even know what kind of dome you're talking about. I mean, domes exist, but they're not some major thing we 'have'...”
“Right. You might need to know, then,” she happily kept helping them with everything she thought they'd need to know, given their promise. “The domes keep ponies warm inside – it's a bit nippy out there but believe me it's a lot colder outside the dome. Like, you're gonna need some real specialty heavy coats out there! Also ponies need power to stay alive – to power the sun-lamps in the sun-houses to grow food. The sunstones give power – Starswirl gave them, himself! But we have no idea how he did it and he didn't even claim to have made them, himself...”
“Sunstones?” Twilight echoed. “Hmm, no, I don't remember Starswirl's writings having anything about 'sunstones'. But please, keep explaining these domes – so we're in one, now?”
“Yep! Every city is in one! Except for the cities up in the mountains! But those are just little towns and such, and only unicorns can live out there, with their magic. Oh, and Bastion.”
“So, the three tribes never came together, so you've got eternal winter from the windigos and you live in domes to keep warm?” Twilight tried to summarize.
Astilbe excitedly nodded, then paused, thinking for a moment before shaking her head and continuing, “Hmm, well, not exactly, they did get together, they just broke apart afterwards when they couldn't find any alicorns to lead them – but the domes don't just keep us warm, they also keep all the fumes out of the city. They even seem to draw in the glacial ice around them, and when it crosses the barrier, it melts, and it's filtered when it comes inside, meaning the domes give us water, too. And all our wastewater can just run through a loop – out and back in, and the nastiness just disappears into the dome's wall.”
“Okay – well, you can teleport things, burn them for fuel – all kinds of things, but it doesn't 'just disappear',” Twilight corrected. “As for drawing ice in – ice is a solid. So I don't know how that would work. But the rest just sounds like some really advanced shield magic is all.”
“Probably,” Astilbe shrugged. “There's this big thing about ponykind getting the technology to survive the winter without the domes. I guess you can say they feel kinda betrayed by them, even if they still need them to survive. But are they shields? You can walk right through the walls of the domes – now, you'll get gunned down by guards if you do, or choke in all the industrial fumes the dome keeps out if you go out the downwind, but you can, they're not metal or anything. But often they put physical walls over the magic ones to keep anypony from just going in or out.”
“You can do just about anything with shield spells. Advanced enough, you could certainly make it so you can walk through it but it keeps fumes out. How many domes are there?” Twilight asked.
“Five. We're in the Delphi dome, there's the Hatten dome, Baltimare, Los Pegasus, and Westhaven, though Westhaven completely failed and was abandoned. Oh hey!” She lit up. “I forgot one little detail – you see, the domes used to look like daytime on the inside. Well, during the day, that is. Like, they were little patches of summer in the world. But uh, they all went dark. So there's no sunlight left in the world except for what you make with a sun-lamp.”
“Wait – so these magic domes brought sunlight and everything – not only is that going to take a lot of power but that's some really high-level magic, too. Can they not make them any more?” she asked.
“Well... they could, probably...” she shuffled her hooves and looked off to the side. “But you see, with the world population as low as it is, there really wouldn't be enough unicorns to power it. Even when they made them there wasn't. So, they had to go a bit further than draining their magic...”
Twilight recoiled. “What – no, you don't mean –?” Astilbe, at least, could tell from her expression: She knew what it meant, but didn't want to believe it had been done.
Astilbe's tone lost its chipperness as she explained, “Millions died. You might say that's where it all started – where it started to become acceptable to sacrifice a few for the rest to live... But if there was never any need in your world – and yet you recognized Clover the Clever's name –”
“And you look just like me, don't forget that!” Pinkie chimed in.
“ –then you share that much history, so things must have gone differently?” Astilbe asked.
Twilight looked between the two of them again. She almost felt a twinge of worry. If it weren't for the fact that Pinkie's in great pain because... Well, if it weren't for their memories, I'm not sure I'd be able to tell them apart if they wore matching clothes and sat next to each other. “There's definitely more than a few similarities in our worlds... But that would make sense, if the three tribes never came together in peace in your world, that'd explain all the unicorn fear,” she commented.
Astilbe waved a hoof. “Well, it's been almost a thousand years since that, so it's not that same deal! There's no way it'd be the same group. There's been a lot of history. The Order of the Hatten Vanguard has only been around for – what, two or three decades? It only really picked up traction when the suns started going out in the domes, and then they invaded after the sun went out here in the Delphi dome, claiming it was to rescue us all from starvation even though Bastion's unicorns were already helping... But wow did re-discovering Westhaven help them out! The dead ashes of an entire dome! What an eerie discovery! Now they say it's because the unicorns betrayed them but they probably faked that evidence – I mean, Bastion proves unicorns can live together with pegasi and earth ponies!”
“What is Bastion?” Twilight asked.
Astilbe froze as an ear perked up. They heard hoofsteps in the hallway outside the room. “Oh! We'll have to explain that stuff later, but for now, I've got some other ponies to talk to!” She sprang up and skipped out of the room with way too much joy for how dark the conversation had been. “Stay put and I'll be right back!” she called over her shoulder as she left, closing the door behind her.
After she was gone, the three Equestrians were left speechless, trying to digest everything they'd been told. They were exhausted, and one of them was already in bed and badly injured. After a moment of silence, she finally spoke up from her bed, “She's a really weird pony.”
Both her friends gave her a surprised look.
“What?”
“Well?” Applejack turned to her alicorn friend.
“Well, I'm not sure what to make of all this.” Twilight turned to her friend wearing an expression of worry. “But how do you feel about stepping into the empty shoes of the other version of yourself, here, to get information about Rarity, if it comes down to it?”
“We've succeeded with worse plans than that,” she remarked. “To be honest, though, it just seems weird. I guess he's kinda my brother? But takin' advantage of that to get him to tell me guard secrets just...” She glanced at the ground, trying to digest the sheer dishonesty of it. “It just ain't me.”
“Well... To tell you the truth, AJ, remember the words on the page in that strange language? I could read what was happening to Rarity – or at least get the feeling of it. It's real enough that I don't want terrible things to happen to us here, but honestly I think everypony else...” her voice quieted to a whisper, “I think everypony else is just a fictional character.”
Applejack immediately stood up and bristled, barely keeping her voice from shouting, “Flynn' sakes, Twilight! An' here you just told Astilbe that this was all real! Are you sayin' you just lied to her! After everything she's done for us!? What she's puttin' at risk!? She's stickin' her neck out for us! More literally than I'd care to think about!”
“Yes but, she's just -” Twilight struggled with the words, “ – I think she's just like the Mane-iac or her henchponies from Spike's comic book – or the Mirror Pool clones Pinkie made.”
“The mirror pool clones didn't have no depth to'em! They just had like one emotion an' that's it! They were clearly just reflections – illusions – not breathin', thinkin' ponies, but this -” she waved a hoof towards the door, “this is a doggone whole pony! Have you been lyin' this whole time about taking her back, too?”
“No – I will take her back to Equestria if I can,” she firmly stated, “but I might not be able to. If she's real, and she actually feels anything and isn't just some fictional character, then I should be able to take her back. But if she's not, then what does it matter if I can't keep my promise? But you know who really matters? Rarity. Pinkie Pie. You. Me. So if it comes down to it, will you be willing to go to this world's version of your brother and sister and see what you can learn about Rarity? If worse comes to worst, I should be able to rescue you -” she glanced around the room, “- we'll put something together. Give me your hat and a hair band – that'll be a lot easier to not lose than a hair.”
Applejack looked to the side, then turned to Pinkie Pie and looked at her for a long moment. Her breathing was clearly pained and slow. She turned back to Twilight. “Alright, Twi.” She took the hair band out of her mane and gave it and her hat to her friend. “If there's no other way, I'll do it, even against Astilbe's wishes – but only to save Rarity. Not because these ponies aren't real – because they sure as sugar seem real to me – but because I don't want to see Rarity 'hanged' on some stage, or shot an' killed while tryin' to escape, an' I'm getting' mighty tired of sittin' here not bein' able to help with anything. Like you said, we gotta know if she's locked up in some dungeon, an' if this other Big Mac is in the guard, he might know...”
Twilight nodded, “Thank you. It means a lot to me, her, and all of us.” She looked up, beyond her friend, and around the room for a bit. “Now, if we do this – it'd be great if you could somehow send a signal if you need help. If there's no way for that, I can always just time with my stopwatch – or you'd need one, too...”
“Are you plannin' for somethin' we don't even know we're gonna be doin'?” she asked incredulously.
“Well... yeah. What else am I going to do?” She stopped looking around the room to look back at her friend as she asked. Her eyes showed just how exhausted she was. Staying up to an absurd hour of the morning and then going on a lethal adventure and performing a surgery on her friend had taken a toll on her, and it was obvious.
“You look like you really need some rest, to be honest. Weren't you stayin' up all night again before you went an' got me an' Pinks?”
“Eheheh...” she gave a small nervous laugh. “Well, I'm not going to be getting much sleep with all that's going on...” She shook her head. “I want to at least learn what they heard about Rarity before going to sleep. No way I'm going to fall asleep waiting for that... Oh, I know what I could do! Wait, no, that'd be a tautology, I need two of the same object for that enchantment to work...” she eyed the hairband and stetson as she held them in front of her in her magic, her mind engineering a scheme to keep in touch with her friend soon to be a spy.
Twilight had already finished her enchantments and fallen asleep by the time Astilbe got back from talking with the rest of the 'Ceruleans'. They'd not learned enough to know where to look yet, and with the clock ticking on Rarity's life, they finally managed to get Astilbe to concede to letting them go forward with their plan. It was hard, but after Twilight proved her enchanted items worked as intended, and reminded her of their promise to take her back to Equestria with them, she finally conceded to letting Applejack meet Crimson Fire and Scarlet.
So in the afternoon rush, when guards were least likely to pull them out of a crowd for a routine check, and Scarlet would be returning home from school, Astilbe set out with Applejack in tow. “Never look confused or lost. Move with purpose. Never loiter,” the pink mare whispered as they'd set out. “That's usually what gets the guards to stop you and ask for ID.” AJ wore both her hairbands, but had left her Stetson and lasso with Twilight.
Astilbe knew the streets, when school let out, and how long it took to get around, so she was able to intercept Scarlet walking home. The street was more sparse, but there was still enough traffic that the other world's Applebloom didn't notice them approaching from behind.
She glanced over to her companion as they walked, speaking quietly but not whispering, “Okay, AJ. Follow her home, try not to draw too much attention to yourself. I imagine Crimson probably locks the door, so she's got to have a key or something. You'll need her to let you in, otherwise I would've taken you straight there. But now we part. Good luck, remember not to let her make a scene when she notices you, and don't lose that hairband.”
“Thankya, for everything,” AJ give a quick, small hug. “I'll report back tonight.”
“Seeya – or, I guess, hear you, then.”
And they parted ways.
As Astilbe was rushing back to the theater, she saw it, fresh and barely posted. The pink pony stopped on the crowded cobblestone street, looking at the poster as her expression fell. “Oh no,” she muttered in horror, resuming a slow walk to try to not draw any attention.
But she couldn't take her eyes off the poster.
Every so often another pony stopped to look at it as well. Some scoffed, others sounded excited, and others looked at it with fear.
“I can't believe they let bring them into the square! Even with all that security...” one pony whispered to another as they walked away.
There was no need to give a location. They were always done in central square.
Underneath the text was a picture of a bound pony, horn severed, leaving a bloody, bandaged spot on her forehead. In black and white it would be hard for her remaining guests to tell exactly, so she wondered if they would be able to recognize the pony or not.
Looking around, she waited for a few minutes, making a lap around the block to not seem too suspicious. Finally she took the poster down and packed it in a saddlebag in a single, swift motion as she passed it. Casually strolling away, she desperately hoped no guards or loyal citizens saw her take the poster.
I just left Applejack in a web of spiders for nothing! she thought as she walked.
No, what if the unicorn is a fake?
But what if they can't find out in time? Should I even tell Twilight and her friends? They'll want to rescue her for sure, but that would be suicide!
She paused as she recalled the picture again, a thought passing by her, wait, don't unicorns normally not have wings? Is Twilight some kind of... alicorn? Is that why she's so good at magic?
Isn't that what Celestia was? Hah! Her mere existence is proof alicorns exist!
She refocused her thoughts, anyways, so there's a risk to telling them. To themselves. But I can't just hold it from them. After all, that's what The Order is doing so terribly, after all. Controlling ponies, killing them.
No, Twilight should be free to decide for herself what to do.
And maybe she'll even learn if the unicorn is real or not from Crimson Fire. Gold Will seemed to drop some hints that he's in some special unit, so maybe his chances of knowing are better than I thought...
Oh, Applejack, why did I let you do this? Oh, right, because of those great enchantments Twilight did and the promise of going to Equestria.
At the very least, it'll be nice to have an agent close to some special unit major.
As she walked down the cobblestone streets, she gave one last sideways glance at her saddlebag holding the stolen poster. Oh, please don't take this and do something stupid, Twilight... But maybe if anypony can do something so insane as crashing a spectacular, you can.
Crimson Fire turned the key to his house. From outside, it was a narrow street of stone buildings, and in the cramped inside, sheetrock and carpeting hid the stone construction.
“Crimson, Crimson! You won't believe who I saw today!” a filly's voice cried through the hall as he opened the door.
He froze at who he saw.
Gold Will sat inside, Scarlet excitedly beaming at him as she sat next to her.
“Uh – please, don't be scared. Come on in,” Gold Will beckoned.
He hesitantly closed the door behind him without turning around, then slowly approached her.
She wore plain clothes as ever, but for some reason had hairbands on her mane and tail. Certainly not what she was entombed in as a body. She bore no injuries indicating her execution, either, though she looked more tan than he remembered, and had freckles. Nopony her age had freckles, not since the domes went dark. “Put a hoof on your forehead,” he commanded, his voice fighting back shakes of terror.
She readily complied, then gave a little smile. “Heheh – see? No horn. Not a unicorn. Certainly not lookin' to uh – bring winter or nothin'...”
He cocked his head ever so slightly, taking another step forward, his eyes still wide with disbelief.
Scarlet piped up, “yeah, uh, she admits something happened to her memories, but it's really her! She was able to describe you down to your eye color and favorite foods! It's gotta be her!”
“Wha-what happened?” he breathed. “Is it – is it really you?”
“Well... sorta. A lot is different about me. I'm like some different version of your – of Gold Will. But... What Scarlet said is true.” Her tone switched from a simple explanation to something more sympathetic. “From what I hear this other form'a me was just as bad at tellin' a lie as I am, so I ain't gonna pretend I'm exactly Gold Will, but I will ask you this -” She looked him straight in the eye, her expression and tone turning both pitiful and judgmental. “- You won't let me die again, will you?”
Her tone quickly softened as her ears flopped down, ever so slightly, and her gaze averted to the ground. “Truth is I'm lost. I'm from like a whole different world, a different version of this family. And I'm puttin' my life in your hooves. It's a silly an' stupid thing to do in some ways, but I'm desperate.” She looked back up to meet his eyes. “But you won't let me die horribly again, will you?” she asked again, even more pitifully.
He stood stiff, ever so slightly wavering as the room seemed to rock around him for long moments, before he finally relaxed. He could recognize the subtle nuances – he could tell she was hiding something, she was still as terrible a liar as ever, as she said. But her fear was real, and she told the truth about putting her life in his hooves. He knew that for sure.
Before he might have hesitated. But he couldn't bear to see her broken body again. Especially not when he had to account to her for what he'd done.
She was offering his soul a chance at redemption from the bloodstain of his own younger sister he'd failed to save.
He couldn't betray her.
And with the subtle nuances of the way she talked, thought, persuaded – how he could tell where she hid something and where she was more earnestly sincere – he couldn't doubt it was her.
As he ran forward she froze for a brief moment before his enormous forelegs wrapped around her and lifted her into the air in a hug. “Oh, Gold Will!” he bellowed, squeezing her.
“Oohf! Heheh!” she grinned as she was lifted off her hooves for a moment.
“I – I don't even care how. I just – I can tell it's you and that's all that matters. I don't want to wake up, if this is a dream, I just don't!” he cried. “I – I promise I'll never... No – you better never go and talk to those bad kinds of ponies again, you got it!? I can't protect you, so you've got to be safe, okay!?” He squeezed ever harder.
“Nng, uh – think ya could loosen up a 'lil?” she forced out. Though at least her back hooves were on the ground this time.
He did, but only barely. “But – how did you get here – is it safe for the police to see you? Are you in hiding?” he asked earnestly, still not letting go.
“Well, I reckon' I better not get recognized by anypony if they uh... you know,” she commented.
“No – you better not, unless this was – I don't know, some kind of advanced science divisions' workings? Something the Governor did? Or -” He finally pulled away, but kept his hooves on her shoulders, and only far enough to meet her eyes with a terrified look in his own. “It's not magic, is it?” He put a hoof on the back of her neck, feeling her vertebrae, finding no breaks.
“I – I told ya I don't know really what happened...” she bowed her head slightly, her ears folding back uncomfortably as he felt her spine.
“How – how could -” he cut himself off, realizing she hadn't done whatever it was that saved her – or brought her back from the dead.
She recognized the tone, though. It would be useless to even try lying, even just by omission. “Well it's not dark magic, I can promise ya that!”
“No – I'm not doing it.” He pulled her in an embrace again. “Whatever happens to me – if this is wrong, then I'll be wrong! Whatever dark, twisted trick those unicorns might be trying to play – I'll not play into it! I'll accept you back just to spite them! To betray their nefarious plots by taking all the good from this and cutting out the evil – so I'm sorry, Gold Will, but I'm going to have to do things to you you don't like! But it's best that way, it's really best!”
Applejack's pupils shrank. “Uh... what kinda things?” she asked, afraid, and thankful for Twilight's enchantments on her mane's hairband.
“For one, you're not leaving this house! And I'll make sure of it! And I'm not telling you anything! Because clearly if your memories are gone, the unicorns – they've wiped – no, they've done something terrible to you!” He squeezed her again, then held her at hoove's length again to look into her eyes as he spoke, “but there's still something of you left! You won't be turned into a bomber to undermine civilization because you won't be a part of it! Not until I've recovered you!”
“Re-recovered me?” Never before had she been so afraid of her brother's overwhelming strength.
He ranted wildly, “Yes! Why haven't they thought of it before? Everypony is so scared of the mind-wiped they never thought of the obvious solution! The executions are an act of compassion so they don't have to slowly starve to death when we can't afford to support them, and to contain their dangerous ideas – but I'm immune! I won't fall to your insanity, and I don't have to kill you to hold strong! I'll be strong for you, Gold Will, I'll be strong enough for you, this time!”
“You're – you're startin' to scare me, Big Ma-Crimson...” Before she could even resist, he pulled her in and squeezed her again, though it felt much less reassuring than before.
“Yeah, what are you talking about?” Scarlet echoed, her voice hesitant and afraid. “You – do you think she...? But no, she'd never!”
“SHE IS, SCARLET! She's had her entire mind wiped clean and replaced by the unicorns! You can't mention that she's back to anypony, you understand!? Anypony! Or they'll have all three of us arrested and executed!”
The filly spoke up again, “Are you saying-?”
“I meant what I said!” he bellowed in affirmation. “Nopony can know or all three of us are dead!” His volume and tone switched to continue talking to Gold Will as he picked her up and started carrying her.
“J-just what're you doin!?” she barked, wriggling to try to break free, but to no avail.
“I – I admit I don't really know what I'm doing, Goldie, I don't know all the mind-science on how to get your mind back, but I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? That's the number one thing! I'm just – you know how you put foals in cribs so they don't hurt themselves? It's just like that, but you get a whole room!-”
“I'm not a foal, gal'darnit!” she cried, now turning to hitting any part of him she could reach, but she didn't have enough leverage to do any real damage. She bit her lip to keep herself from crying for help. She knew she had to keep the meeting secret – she didn't have the papers Astilbe said they'd need, and even worse, she was a perfect match to a pony that was supposed to be dead. The last thing she wanted was to get guardsponies on her again. Whatever he might do to her, she trusted it wasn't as bad as what they did to Pinkie.
Plus, she didn't want her hairband to hear her cry out for help.
He sped up in response to her strikes, approaching and descending a flight of stairs. “No! You've been poisoned with unicorn propaganda, the lies they've put in your mind are dangerous! Too dangerous for ponies to hear, too dangerous to be spoken, too dangerous for young Scarlet! I won't let you threaten this family again! You almost got us all killed, don't you get that!? I know the real you – when your mind was in-tact – would never have endangered us all like that!” He set her down in front of him.
She was in another room – a basement, she guessed by the stairs, but it was a lot nicer than some cellar. She could feel her tail tucking itself between her legs.
Just as she'd kept from crying out, she realized she had nowhere to run, even. She didn't want to start a wild chase across the streets that'd get the guards' attention – especially not if it meant it could get this other version of her family killed.
He held her in place, looking straight into her eyes. From his earlier wild rant, she'd thought his pupils would be shrunken and wild – but they weren't. They were certain and strong, and just as he'd been able to read her, she could read him. He meant every word he said – he saw her as a filly playing with matches, or some patient at a mental hospital.
“Look, Goldie, when you're back in your right mind you'll thank me for this. I'm defending everything you care about and love. But not the same way as before. The Vanguard may have given up on rehabilitating ponies but I'm not gonna give up on you!” He stomped a hoof.
“But don't you trust me-?” she began in a pitiful voice. There was no point in trying to hide how scared she was. Even if the tucked tail didn't make it obvious, her ears clinging to the sides of her head and her shrunken pupils did.
“No!” he interrupted. “Not like this. I trust you – when you're in your right mind. But not like this. Other ponies have done something terrible to you, and it's not safe for you, or anypony within the sound of your voice until you're back in your right mind. Think of it like... I'm holding you down to do an emergency field surgery, to remove a bullet.”
Applejack shuddered. “Isn't there anythin' I could possibly say to get you to believe me when I say I'm just fine and don't need you to 'hold me down'!?”
He paused. “Yeah... Is it true your memories are gone?”
Her tongue caught. She knew she could neither lie nor make up an entire lifetime of shared memories. “I – I didn't forget nothin', but... Like I said, I'm not really your 'Gold Will',” she couldn't look him in the eyes as she told him again. She was too afraid of how he might respond, as he clung so desperately to the hope that she was.
But she did look straight into his surprised, confused eyes as she continued, “But I kinda am! The best I – that I know, is that I'm from some other world with a different history than this one. I'm your little sister from there – I'm Gold Will in a world where – where things aren't so awful and it's sunny and warm and grassy outside, an' I'm scared, okay!? Are ya gonna –” her voice trembled as she asked, “are ya gonna treat me well even if I'm not the Gold Will you knew? Even if I didn't forget but just never even had those memories? Because even if I'm not Gold Will, you know I'm still some form of her...”
He looked blankly at her for a long moment, considering his answer, before taking on his determined look again. “I just said it – I know I recognize you, Goldie! This is just part of whatever evil thing they did to your mind! The only way you could've survived... what happened to you, is if magic is at work. I know you think you're from another world, but you're not, that's just the magic messing with you. I'm putting myself and Scarlet at great risk with this – it's foolish and stupid. But – do you at least remember how important you are to this family?”
She looked back up at him, her eyes shimmering. Even in this terrible other world, an Apple was still an Apple. She answered with sudden confidence, “yeah. I do.”
He pulled her in to another hug. This one wasn't confining, and he didn't lift her up again. He just hugged her. “You're halfway back, already. I know – I know there must be a way to get the rest of you back, Goldie, your real memories and all. Forget everything else, that's the only thing that matters to me, now. Mom and Pops may be gone forever, but we're never losing each other.”
She felt tears well in her eyes as she felt the sincerity and emotion in his voice. She suddenly and completely understood why he was so frantic.
She understood how much he genuinely cared about her.
And something else came to her mind: It was confusing, it made no sense that she'd be orphaned in both worlds. Yet it made sense, in a way. This world had a thousand years to be totally different, but somehow, there's copies'a us, here. Astilbe is still Pinkie, even here. And Apples are still Apples, even if we don't go by that name. But doesn't that mean – is it really true, then?
Was it really more than just some dumb accidents?...
Did losing ma'n Pa really make us who we are – so much that we had to lose'em in this world, too, to be the same ponies we were in Equestria?
“I'll be with you the whole way, Goldie. We'll get your mind back, somehow. We'll get it back to how it was before this whole nightmare started...”
Twilight paced restlessly in the storage room, circling Applejack's Stetson and one of her hair bands. She could hear the sound of the theater through the room's very high ceiling. Questions rushed through her mind.
The alert spell would've told me if she took the duplicated hairband off, so she probably didn't lose it... She charged her horn and cast a quick pinging spell to check – the pony who last wore the stetson before her, and the duplicate of the hairband, were at the same spot. Okay, so why hasn't she given us the all-clear to talk to her yet? Did she forget, or is she just waiting for something?
She's just been alone in that room for what, thirty minutes, now?
“You pace a lot,” Pinkie commented from her bed.
Twilight stopped for a moment and looked at her. “Well, Applejack's in mortal danger! And not just Astilbe, – I mean Applejack – I mean, Astilbe is in mortal danger, too! And Rarity!” She started pacing again as she recited, “Astilbe only agreed to this because I could listen in through that hairband, and the moment AJ cries for help, or gives any identifying information that could reveal Horus theater or Astilbe as spies, it's up to ME to make sure she doesn't get tortured or interrogated or even say the wrong thing! - Applejack or Astilbe!”
“It's only the third time you said that,” Pinkie deadpanned.
Twilight shot her a surprised look.
“Oh – uh, sorry,” Pinkie apologized.
The alicorn shook her head, “No, it's alright. It's been a really hard day for both of us. Do your wounds still hurt just as bad every time you move?”
Pinkie shifted around a bit, immediately biting her teeth. “Nope. It's getting better. Doesn't hurt nearly as bad as yesterday. But It still feels weird how these ponies wear these 'underwears' all the time. It feels kinda like a diaper.”
“How do you...?” Twilight shook her head again, “You know, nevermind.” She resumed her nervous trot.
“Oh hey, tell me about that owl dream again!”
The alicorn stopped again. “I dreamed I was Owlowiscious when I took that nap, that's all.”
“Oh but you woke up thinking you were an owl! You should've seen the look on your face!” She giggled.
“Now that you mention it, I wonder if that had anything to do with that spell I was working on?...” she furrowed her brows in thought.
“What do you mean?” Pinkie's attention piqued.
“Well, I was working on some magic with Owlowiscious before this whole thing started. Some kind of mind-sharing spell. Now that I think about, the mistake I made at first – it might've led to that.”
“So... you were Owlowiscious because you were sharing minds with him? Was Owlowiscious waking up wondering why he was an owl back in Ponyville?” she asked, some concern edging into her voice.
“Oh. I uh – I hope not. But I don't know.” Twilight returned a far more concerned look back at Pinkie. “At any rate, it wore off soon after I woke up, but it was really weird. No, the dream was memories from Owlowiscious, not some live mind transfer. I remember seeing the Golden Oaks in it...”
“Oh. I'm sorry,” Pinkie sympathized.
Twilight hadn't even realized her voice had turned sad as she said it. She quickly brushed it aside. “Well, being an owl sure was interesting. It's weird – I even remembered his other memories, too. I remember his memories of memories...”
“Hey, uh, I think they're gone now,” Applejack's voice finally came out of the hairband lying on the floor. “I'm usin' this thing right, right? Like, long as it's in my hoof I can hear y'all? An' I'm payin' attention to it? I guess if I don't got it right then I can't exactly hear ya tellin' me how to do it right...”
Her alicorn friend shot over to it, leaning down into it. “Yes! That's right! So what happened! He sounded crazy! Did he hurt you? Are you alright? Are you in some dungeon?!” she poured her questions out.
“No, no, I'm fine. And uh – I guess it's technically kinda like a dungeon 'cause I'm locked in here? - but it ain't all cold and – well it's carpet and sheetrock and it's got this really nice light. Come to think'a it, I don't think I ever seen a light like this before. It's like sunlight, it ain't all yellow and dim, it's like – uh – blue? I mean, this ain't a dungeon, it's like one'a the nicer rooms I ever been in. Even got a water closet with running water attached. So I guess like a fancy, soft, carpeted dungeon with a nice bed, some books, and an' all-you-can-eat buffet?”
That explains all those noises when he brought food down.
“You know, it's really weird to hear her voice coming out of a hairband like that,” Pinkie said.
“Hi, Pinks! Yeah, it is, ain't it?” the hairband called out.
“Hi!” Pinkie beamed.
“So, he didn't hurt you or anything? Are you still in the house?” her questions still had a strong eager edge to them.
“No, no. I probably hurt him more than he hurt me, what with how I was fightin' when he carried me down here an' all – an' I didn't hurt him much at all, either. An' yeah, I'm still in the house. Just the basement of it.”
“Okay, good. I'm really worried about you, there, Applejack,” she supportively reminded her.
“Yeah, well, I wish I could say I wasn't. Big Mac seemed alright, though. Like, I mean really, come'ta think'a it, if one day Applebloom came home all weird like this I'd, uh – well, I wouldn't lock her in her room, no, but we don't live in a terrible dangerous place like this world, either. Then again I did kinda make sure she didn't leave the farm so that's kinda like lockin' her somewhere safe, far away from the fire swamp...”
“No!” Twilight firmly laid down her opposition. “He may sound and look like Big Mac but don't lose sight of things over there, AJ! He's not the Big Mac from Equestria. He's Crimson Fire, a fictional character who's just kind of like him.”
“Tarnations, Twi! We been over this!” her frustrated voice fought back through the hairband. “I'm the one out here puttin' my own neck out this time, and I'm givin' him some benefit'a the doubt!”
“Is that what 'benefit of the doubt' means?” Pinkie asked, confused.
“Ya darn well know what I mean!”
“You meant you're going easy on him because you think he's your brother – but he's not! Look, I know he said he refused to tell you things, but just keep trying to see if you can't figure out if Rarity's been captured, okay? That's what you're there for! It's just not worth it to risk us real ponies over some fictional characters.”
Applejack sighed, then paused, and after a moment, let out a much sadder, softer sigh. “I – I just wish we could help out all these ponies, Twi. We saved our world so many times – from Nightmare Moon, Discord, Tirek – do you think – do you think there's anything we can do to save this one? I know they don't seem real to you, but... They sure seem real to me. I mean, all that doohicky you speak of about 'not really bein' them' an' all – I dunno, Twi, you just gotta talk to someone you love from here, then you'll see. We gotta help these ponies somehow.”
Twilight groaned, then quickly ran through her head, and gave the best, most honest, and diplomatic answer she could come up with, “AJ, to be honest, that's a very deep metaphysical question. But this I know – we're going to save Rarity, and we're going to get out of here together. How many books do you think exist with terrible worlds like this? We can't save all of them. But we can save our friends. These ponies are nothing but what you experience of them – remember how the words appeared in the book after Rarity? We're in a book, AJ. We can't worry about all the fictional characters in all of Spike's comic books, either. We just need to focus on getting each other through this.”
There was a long silence from the hairband, before AJ's voice finally came through again. “Just tell me, Twi, how are we gonna get through this? I – I dunno. I feel like I just can't leave Bi – Crimson Fire here like this. Like I gotta bring him home. Or at the very least, make things right here. Give him a life as good as ours in Equestria. Ain't there any way we can do that? Like I was sayin' – we saved Equestria all those times – can't we do the same here? Ya didn't answer that.”
It was Twilight's turn to pause for a moment, though she didn't take quite as long to respond. “All those times we lived in a good world threatened by some single terrible thing. I – I'm sorry, but I really don't know what I can do about a world where the ponies themselves are bad like this. Maybe we could try to convince them that unicorns aren't evil, but you saw what happened to Pinkie – who they just saw next to me!
“We can't change how a hundred million ponies act every day. It took Celestia centuries as a supreme monarch to do that, after they willingly submitted to her. All I can think of is rescuing Rarity, getting together again, and trusting Celestia when she told me she knew I'd be able to find my way back. I don't even know how we're getting back yet, AJ. Once we've done that, then we can talk about fixing this book. You don't want Rarity, Pinkie, yourself, or me to get hurt, either, do you? That comes first. We can talk to Celestia about how to fix worlds and how the book creates them when we get back.”
There was yet another pause, this one much shorter. “Twi, Rarity comes – I think she comes first, maybe... But I'm afraid I – I gotta make one demand, okay? I'm puttin my hoof down.”
“...yes?” she hesitantly asked.
“I – I don't even care how much this may blow his'n her mind, or how hard it'd be for Big Mac and AB to cope, but we gotta bring back Crimson and Scarlet when we go back to Equestria, too, along with Astilbe'n her friends. Okay?”
This... This is spiralling out of control. But... she made a lot of guesses in her head as to how returning may work. Maybe she just had to activate the elements. Maybe this world had its own version of the book they could read to get back. Whatever it was, bringing back others didn't seem like it'd be much harder than returning back, themselves. At least she was willing to bet on it, and commit to the promise.
“Okay. If it's possible, I'll do everything I can to bring them back with us, but Equestrians still take first priority.”
“Okay. Thank you, Twilight. It means a whole lot to me... an' I'm sure it means a whole lot to my family, too.”
“But they're not your family...” Twilight grumbled quietly to herself.
Pinkie was asleep in her bed. Twilight was sitting at the table with a quill and an open book she'd found in the room. The page was full of logic squares of game theory and notes on her plans, as well as technical notes about the various machines around her.
She heard the door unlock and open, Astilbe appearing in the doorway.
“Oh, hello, Astilbe,” she cheerfully greeted in a hushed tone, trying not to wake Pinkie. Some sleep, and then Reverse-engineering the fantastic machines had put her in a good mood, despite everything. Perhaps there was something great to be gleaned from this terrible world.
But Astilbe's face was solemn, stricken with something heavy.
“What's wrong?” she asked. “Should I wake Pinkie?”
The pink mare approached, whispering back, “that's up to you. I'm sorry I couldn't come by here earlier today – I can't act suspicious to my coworkers and I had a show, you know? But here's what I just found out.” She opened her saddlebag and pulled out the poster.
Twilight's wings flared out and her eyes widened. She took the poster in her magic, muttering, “no, where'd you find this? Is it – I mean could they have? -” she cut herself off, looking at the picture again. The pony lacked Rarity's makeup or false eyelashes, and wasn't dressed the same as she was when she put her hoof to the page, but it definitely looked like her. She couldn't imagine how a photograph could be fabricated. But even if it could, then what? She couldn't risk the possibility of it actually being Rarity. She knew what she had to do.
Astilbe just sadly shook her head, then looked her new friend in the eyes, “Is it her, then?”
Twilight nodded. Her wide eyes hardened, her wings relaxed, and the same determination that had defeated immortal, vengeful gods came over her. “Okay, Astilbe. We've got less than twenty-four hours, right?” she asked.
“...and so if the third air wing is chosen, they'll need to deploy at oh-six hundred hours to make the rendevouz, with another coin flip to determine if the second or first squadron take first shift.”
Crimson Fire stood over a map in a war room. Two other officers were gathered around as he laid down the plans he'd been tasked with. They all wore uniforms as decorated as his own, bearing the special operations patches.
A pegasus held a compass over the map and made drawings while the other two talked.
“Isn't that level of detail usually left to the company commander?” the third, younger officer asked.
“Special assignment,” Crimson explained. “We do things a bit differently for an op like this.”
For a brief moment, it looked like the pegasus was about to ask a question – when he bit his tongue and kept drawing on the board. “Alright, I think I can lay out flight plans. Transmitting them is going to be a real pain in the flank, though, but it will be done. Are the lines secure enough?”
“We don't have much choice. Too late for a messenger train,” Crimson finalized.
“What took Icewind so long in giving this assignment, then, anyways?” the other earth pony officer wondered.
“On the mention.” Crimson didn't even turn towards the door, he'd just heard the bootsteps.
A silhoutte appeared through the opaque glass door and gave three solid knocks.
"Enter," the major answered.
Another young, far-less decorated officer swung the door open, “Major Fire? Brigadier General Icewind wants to speak to you. Says it's urgent, and not to send 'your transmission' until you do.”
“I'm on my way.” He immediately followed the young lieutenant, giving one last order over his shoulder, “You heard'em, hold off on transmitting 'till I'm back.”
“Aye, sir,” they both agreed.
He followed the younger pony through crowded, winding halls of officers, maps, cabinets, secretaries and armed guards, leaving the wing of the building altogether. They were passing over a balcony overlooking a large atrium when he started a little chatter, “Anything else I should know, first, lieutenant?”
“No, sir. That's all I have,” he simply answered.
“Got to kill any unicorns yesterday during the attacks?” he asked with a hint of tease in his voice.
The junior officer just gave a small laugh, “I only wish, sir. I was still doing liaison duty. Got to be a part of the response, at least. Definitely got some appreciation for the brass and leaders who make the tough calls, though, and the guys on the ground with the guns.”
“Every cog drives the machine,” Crimson recited in return.
“Aye.” He nodded. “Every cog drives the machine. Just honored to have such a place in it. Now here we are.” He stopped in front of the entrance to a more dimly-lit hallway than the rest of the bright atrium, in front of two stone-faced armed guards. He turned to face his superior and robotically recite a line, “Part of my duty as laison is to respectfully remind you we have standing orders not to loiter in the hallway.”
A gramophone at the end of the hall played symphonic music loudly, further masking any chance of eavesdropping.
“Very well, as you were.” The major gave a nod and left the younger officer behind, making sure to walk directly and briskly to the thick office door.
Large, brass letters adorned it.
BRIGADIER GENERAL OF DELPHI FIRST OCCUPATIONAL ARMY CHIEF OF POLICE ICEWIND
He gave three firm knocks.
He couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. The assignment held far more power than her rank, though either was more than enough to hang him.
Especially with what had happened with his sister staining his record.
But it's going to be business, not an arrest, or they would've just kicked in my door at night...
“Come in,” a mare's voice answered.
He opened the door and walked in to find the familiar face sitting behind a large, ornate desk, in the dress uniform a pony of her station was expected to wear. It was more civilian than military, reflecting more her position than her rank, and thus lacked the display of ribbons that every officer in the building wore. Her fur was a soft light blue, her mane a brilliant, icy teal, and her eyes a piercing magenta.
He closed the door behind him, and stood at attention just inside for a few seconds as she put down some papers. She took a relaxed sip from a glass of some icy drink, then finally bade him, “come over, have a seat.”
He gladly took it.
At least the governor always seems earnest.
“Major Crimson Fire,” she began her address, “well first off, how goes the assignment? I trust your planning of the air component of the governor's security detail is going well? It's a long train ride to Hatten, and no better way to keep a perimeter around the train but by air with our wondrous flying machines. Feel free to speak of it, I'm in this loop.”
He nodded, “My assignment is going very well, indeed, m'am. We're taking the best measures to ensure nopony can plan to harm our great Order,” he dutifully gave a non-answer, neither confirming nor denying any of her implications. Are you testing me?
Was she supposed to even know I was on this assignment?
She quickly changed to the tone of a disciplining schoolteacher, “Now, about that...” She switched back to a more relaxed, explanatory mood. “I wish to speak about a certain major I've heard reports of. See, his younger sister was executed by the occupational governor's standing purge orders because she possessed certain pro-winter propaganda.”
She took a moment to relish herself, “See, 'pro-winter' because they would support the creators of winter. It's a nice term, I think I like it,” then continued, “But you see, we possessed a sort of unspoken disagreement over how leadership should be conducted. The occupational governor believed in strict adherence to the law, to the letter, while myself, I tend to be a bit more...” she waved a hoof around as she fished for the term, looking off to a corner of the ceiling, before her eyes landed back on him, “liberal.
“See, certain ponies who have distinguished themselves through loyal service to The Order deserve to be rewarded, cut little breaks, like overlooking a certain incident with their sister. Why, if this sister were even somehow still alive through some little cosmic miracle, I wouldn't even give it a second thought. A stallion who's distinguished himself well for his loyalty would deserve such a break as a fine gift from the cosmos, surely.” She gave him a sly, knowing smile.
He felt his heart beat ice.
“I even doubt this Golden citizen of our Order deserved such a fate. Of course, this governorconsidered having this major dismissed, even executed out of fear that he may turn against her for not pardoning his sister. Such folly! Thankfully she decided not to execute such an upstanding and loyal member of our glorious Order. I hope she doesn't change her mind. For his sake, or the sake of his living sisters.” She continued to speak as though it were all some hypothetical.
He tripped over her last word in his mind, trying to swallow it. Sisters. As if the earlier hint wasn't enough.
“But, at any rate, I'm sorry for your loss. If only the cosmos – fate – had been more kind. But truly, the only defense we have against The Unicorn's Winter is each other. I really do believe in rewarding loyalty, you understand? And speaking of fate...” She opened a drawer, produced four dice, and dropped them on her desk. They landed on four, five, three and six.
“Sometimes the only way to get what you truly want in this world is to make your own fate. That's what ponies have always done, and always will do in order to keep themselves and the ones they love alive and safe, or to protect their little cosmic miracles that come along... I think you should assign the first air wing, second squadron, second flight to the second shift for the governor's escort on your assignment. It just feels like the lucky number for the ghost of your sister, right? And it's what the dice rolled.” She put her hoof on the dice, and rolled them to one, two, two and two.
“You understand, right?” She leaned in and looked him squarely in his green eyes.
He shakily, fightfully nodded.
“Good. Calm down a little, major. I don't want to have to have my chair cleaned.” She cracked a humorous smile. “You have nothing to fear from your friend Icewind,” she comforted. “Remember, I'm the one who believes ponies ought to be rewarded for their loyal service. I'm here to protect you and your family, and a friend is a friend. You can count on me to be there for you and your sisters, to protect them, just as I know I can count on you.” She reached forward and patted his shoulder, then looked back down at the dice.
“Just remember, first wing, second squadron, second flight on the second shift. Now go to it.”
A dim yellow incandescent glow covered the streets. The sky was a solid black abyss. Twilight rehearsed everything in her mind as she walked over the cobblestone in a semi-casual blue dress. A simple illusion spell hid her horn, and hastily forged documents were in her saddlebags.
The prison was a fortress pointed both ways, and although it was mostly pointed inwards, going in to rescue Rarity would also mean coming back out, and it was meant to contain ponies with magic. Walls layered with a special paint that had magic-reflecting gem powder, guards armed with gem shard projectiles that would pierce a simple magic barrier, and even chemical weapons she didn't want to get locked inside with.
She shuddered at the thought. She knew certain gems could reflect magic, but reflecting a teleport spell with a million tiny dust specks of gem would mean what felt like a simple forward teleport would cause a pony to teleport to a million different places at once.
According to Astilbe, security was always heightened during a “unicorn spectacular”, and she didn't want Rarity to have to experience any of it, never mind the torturous show itself. But the security was mostly against acts pegasi or earth ponies could carry out. A small, quick response team was always on alert for unicorns, but both times they'd been too slow to catch Rarity or her and she bet that they'd be too slow again. Teleportation and shield spells should be more than enough for dealing with the regular police. They worked last time. I've just got to be quick. In and out. After they've taken her out of prison, but before she's dragged through the streets.
She looked over her shoulder – the street was conspicuously empty except for Astilbe, following her from a hundred yards back in order to appear unassociated with her.
When Twilight would strike, the entire city would know, and she didn't want any ponies to see them together and call Astilbe a “unicorn ally”.
The plan was simple, straightforward and efficient. She'd enchanted a small candle so that as soon as it was lit, it would take her and whoever she was touching back to the storage room under the theater. All she had to do was get to where she could see Rarity, teleport right up to her, throw up a shield around them both, touch her, and light the candle with pyrokenesis.
If worse came to worst, she had carefully memorized a map of a huge swath of the dome, meaning teleporting through it was available as a last resort. As Astilbe had warned her with brazen “operations” like this, “'worse' always happens, and it always goes to worst”.
As their walk stretched into the tens of minutes, and they got nearer the grand event, she noticed closed stores and offices, and the streets began to be more crowded with ponies going to the same destination. Eventually they were only a block from the prison her unicorn friend would be dragged out of. At this point there were more than a few ponies usually in-between her and Astilbe as they neared the head of the event. From there, ponies would be able to see the monster they'd heard so much about dragged to the city square, where she would be tortured, to satisfy the rage of those who'd lost so much, and finally executed.
Of course, it wasn't the unicorns who actually killed their friends and started this winter, but it sure is convenient for the state to blame them... She shook her head. Only in a fictional universe could so many ponies become so cruel, manipulative and dishonest.
It's overwhelming to be so surrounded and immersed in it, even for a well-read pony like me! But that's got to be the proof that this is just like that enchanted comic book Spike got, not some actual, real, other world the book teleported us to.
Every so often, the avenues would go the right way so that above the rooftops of distant houses she could see the tall, imposing walls that surrounded the prison. Patrolling fireteams and squadrons of pegasi infantry, all carrying rifles, flew above in perfect wedge formations. She looked up and around it all, wide-eyed at the display. Astilbe didn't say the security was this bad during these “unicorn spectaculars”...
“Hey, miss, with the purple!” She turned back down to the street to see a small team of guards approach her.
Her heart froze in her chest, and she had no practice disguising her expression.
“No need for panic, we just want to know what's in those bags,” the leader explained. Three more armed earth pony police in a wedge formation behind him all closed to just a few steps from her.
“Uhm...” she grabbed her saddlebag's latch with her magic, just barely remembering in time not to use it. Fortunately, while unicorns could feel the magic glow, other races couldn't see it – but she could tell they were suddenly just a bit more on edge, as though they sensed something off.
She turned and opened the bag with her hoof, pulling her candle out. “Just this – and some of the normal papers,” she explained with a nervous grin.
What am I doing grinning at the the enemy? I don't know, this is weird – I'm not used to fighting other, normal ponies who aren't trying to take over the world or some enraged monsters.
Well, they are trying to hurt Rarity, though.
But pretending I'm not defending her just feels weird. And incredibly uncomfortable. But if I give them enough warning, Astilbe said they'd probably shoot Rarity!
“Oh, nice, just put that back in and hoof us over the saddlebags, just so we can take a look.” The leader finally stopped walking, now within reach of her.
Astilbe had mentioned there might be more formal military units, but these wore the same police uniforms she'd seen shoot Pinkie.
She complied with their order. Let's not start a fight. Not yet. Not if I can help it. She turned, lifting the saddlebags off her back and giving them to the ponies.
He rummaged through the bags, took out the papers, looked over them carefully, pausing for a minute as he glared at them, then put the bags in one of his own before turning back to her. “Looks suspicious to me. Why don't you come with us?” he gestured for her to follow, then turned around, his squadmates moving up on either side of her.
“I – I need that candle!” she yelled.
He stopped, then turned around. “Well, with a response like that, that's so suspicious It'd be criminal for me to give it back. You're definitely coming with us.”
Two of the other ponies put hooves on her while a third reached for something in his bags.
“L-last warning, get off of me and give it back!” Her voice shook as she prepared to fight, her stance spreading wide. Just remember – just like in Spike's comic book – they're not real ponies! I can hurt them to protect Rarity!
The hooves tightened their hold and they pressed down on her.
She grabbed all four of them with her magic, pushing the two on her sides away – even grabbing their mouths to keep them from yelling. She quickly ran a few steps away, levitating her candle over to herself while onlookers on the street shrieked.
In the same moment she heard their cries, she charged her horn and teleported away – straight to the large open area where Rarity was due to be dragged out of the prison. She hovered at rooftop height above the streets and threw up a protective bubble. More panicked cries sounded from the sidewalks around her.
She quickly scanned her surroundings – there was no sign of her unicorn friend, or even guards keeping ponies off the street.
She shrieked as her magic felt a hailstorm of bullets crash into her bubble. A roaring firecracker of shots banged around her as the sound followed.
I have to get out of here! Where – where do I go now!? We were supposed to wait here for her, but – they haven't taken her out of the prison yet!
She looked at the prison. There was a great metal gate in the stone wall nearby. She saw it was shut. She looked the other way, down the street already lined with soldiers – Or maybe we're too late and she's already at town square?
She couldn't help but cry out again as her horn felt another volley barrage her magical barrier.
Hurry!
The constant shots stopped, and only a second later, as she argued to herself which way to search first, she heard another, much more distant bang from the direction of the city square. Her pupils shrank to dots.
No!...
She flared her magic again and teleported herself by the map she'd studied, right into the air high above the city square. It was an enormous opening, stuffed with ponies, surrounded by tall, imposing buildings, banners and endless patrols of guards. A great, wooden row of gallows stood in front on a large wooden stage, two much larger banners behind it, and a few guards on it.
And on the scaffold, in a large gap between the two middle gallows, a white unicorn in red clothes lay still.
The spells were taking a toll on her energy, she was rapidly exhausting herself with such difficult teleports and shields that could stop trains – but this last teleport, at least, was within her line of sight. Down to immediately over the white unicorn dressed in red.
As quickly as she appeared over her, she threw the nearest guards away with a telekinetic wave, not giving a second thought to knocking them off the tall structure, and raised another shield, then looked down at the corpse of her friend, hovering down to land next to her.
Rarity laid perfectly still on her side. She was bound in a straightjacket and a long, simple, narrow skirt with a heavy canvas belt cinched around her back legs, locking them together. All her clothes were a crimson red, even her blindfold and gag. Where her horn should've been, there was the only clothing on her body that wasn't dyed red – some bandages with a bloody splotch in the middle as crimson as her dress.
Screams and gunshots around her faded away behind the shield's magenta glow. In her little bubble of a world, there was nothing but a wood floor and her friend's body.
“N-no...” she shook her head in disbelief, her eyes going wide and shimmering as she recognized the body's unnatural stillness.
She noticed a small spot of broken hair and blood on the back of her friend's mane, just above the knot of the blindfold.
Twilight took the blindfold, gag and straightjacket off of her friend's body with her magic. Underneath the straightjacket sat a small, gold-chained emerald necklace. Rarity's eyes weren't even closed, but they were still, unfocused and lifeless.
“R-Rarity, c-can't you hear me?” she hesitantly asked, tears welling in her eyes as she reached down and touched her friend's shoulder, as if to stir her from sleep, while she moved over her to look into her lifeless eyes. “They-they can't have – n-no!”
She felt the unicorn's body with her magic. It wasn't as uncomfortable as before with Pinkie. Now she knew how the various cavities and pockets of air in the body felt, and it was much easier and quicker to tell exactly where and how she was injured.
A bullet had gone into the back of her skull, and stopped as it cracked the front. Most of her brain was nothing but scrambled gunk.
She'd used a transfiguration spell to repair vessels to stop bleeding, but transfiguring some random material into her friend's very being...
Although her eyes were open, there was nothing left to save inside her head.
“I -... I can't...”
I can make some tubes, I can make some tissue, but...
She desperately clung for the last hope that maybe she could repair the damage – but she could see it in her mind. The brain, a web of neurons all arranged in just the exact right way, linked and wired together perfectly to turn lifeless matter into her friend's mind – the thing the body kept alive. The thing that no longer existed. The thing she knew she had no hope of making, herself.
“I... I'm so sorry, Rarity, I was too slow – I, I shouldn't have let you read this damn book!” She stomped on the stage's boards. She lifted her friend's body in her hooves and hugged her, one last time. She was still warm. “I'm sorry. I -... I failed you.”
Twilight bowed her head. She sniffed as she lost control of her breathing, and broke into sobs.
Her crying was interrupted by an earth-shaking bang, strong enough that the bubble that had shrugged off salvos of bullets now pulsed from top to bottom.
“I have to get us out of here! And you're coming, too, even if only for a proper burial! I'm so sorry...”
She began charging her horn, preparing for a longer-range teleport, when she remembered her candle and produced it from her saddlebags. The shield began to shimmer and fizz to nothing in patches – she glanced up, and immediately stopped her pyrokinesis. A cloud of dust was settling around her, eating away her magic barrier wherever it touched it. Gem powder!? She wouldn't be teleporting home.
As the bubble melted away entirely she saw guards around her wearing rags over their snouts, behind tall, square shields, and bearing more rifles.
Although she could feel her magic weakening as the dust descended, she still summoned the strength to grab the rifles and tear them away from their wielders, only to accidentally send the ponies vaulting backwards with them.
She stood up, keeping a hoof on her friend's body, frantically looking around, trying to figure out how to get off the platform and home without magic.
The blast from another deafening bang above her threw her down onto the stage and sent the world tumbling as another wave of thick dust blew around her. As she breathed it in, she started coughing violently. She clambered back onto her hooves, and the world almost stopped spinning, when she heard something clang next to her. She looked down at it.
The canister at her hooves blasted out a gush of thick, white mist in all directions, washing over her, burning her snout and eyes like acid.
Her eyes clenched shut and she bent over in pain and wretched, collapsing back onto the stage as her chest was crushed by an invisible vice as she struggled for air through a burning throat. The world spun around her, her limbs too weak and uncoordinated to even stand.
She felt countless, overpoweringly strong hooves seize her and drag her across the stage while a rag was stuffed in her mouth and her limbs were bound. She felt a sandy rag go over her horn, while the hard, serrated edge of a knife pressed at its base.
“No, secretary, I don't have any reason to suspect the Third Platoon did anything negligent, so I'm not going to back the internal investigation. I don't care what General Icewind thinks. I'll talk to her about it directly,” the Governor said to a stallion following her in a suit.
She was walking out the front of the capitol building, approaching a boxy, rumbling, luxurious roofed automobile with a radio rig in the back. A small group of guards and servants attended her. A light blue pegasus stallion with a blue mane waited for her in the back of the car, wearing a guard officer uniform with a cap. The walled yard around the capitol building was an unusual, rich green of planted grass, lit with brilliant daylight hues from bright, full-spectrum lamps.
Although the governor wore the same, formal, uniform navy blue dress she always did, her mane was done in unusual extravagance. Today was a special occasion.
“But for now, I've got a unicorn spectacular to attend to. Good day.” She dismissed him with a hoof wave as an assistant offered her a coat. She put it on while she walked. She greeted the officer in the back of the car and sat next to him, “Afternoon, Nightgale.” The assistant closed the door for her.
“Afternoon, Governor Spectrum.”
She leaned forward. “Driver, we may now depart.”
The car set off, and two teams of pegasi guards surrounding it took to wing and began escorting.
She turned to Nightgale. “Now, let's get down to it, not a lot of time and they seem to drive these faster every year,” she remarked, then immediately dropped her levity, her voice hushing – though it didn't take much for it to be inaudible under the sound of the car's loud, banging engine. “What's the latest report on Night Owl?” she asked.
“Not good. The Falconer met with Overlord. I'm not sure what to make of it, since there's nothing unusual anywhere else, except a slight change in the flight patrol assignments. I've taken to reassigning the air crews in response, so the air crews they wanted to escort you won't be the ones doing it. In addition, on the day of I can assign some of the high guard to the forty millimeter autoguns on the train.”
She inwardly shivered at his initiative. So Major Crimson Fire personally changed the air patrols? Isn't that normal at this stage of planning? – but Nightgale wouldn't mention it unless there was something off about it.
But what is worrying me is that Nightgale re-assigned the air crews on his own without running that by me, first. If Crimson Fire – especially with Colonel Icewind – are gonna pull something on me, I want to know now while Nightgale can counteract it, then I'll have clear proof to act against them with. So maybe I should let them do this, and trust in Nightgale's ability to respond and protect me.
But I'm the governor. Can't I act against them now, even without that proof? Why am I waiting? This should be warning enough! This is dangerous!
Am I scared to send more to the gallows? Even my direct enemies who seem to be plotting against me?
But what if they're not?
There's nothing in it for me to wait. I could easily have them both gone. But I don't want to kill them unless there's actually something going on. I don't want to set that example for the dome.
She turned to him. “Sounds good. I'd also like you to come along, personally. I may be short on options to keep an eye on the dome while I'm gone, but I've given Captain Steelheart a special assignment. It's a bit different than his usual work but he's smart. I'm sure he can handle it if Falconer does anything funny while we're gone. I'd trust your skill with this job more, but I'd rather have you on the train with me.”
He nodded at her. “Alright. Long as I get first class,” he joked with a half-grin.
The ones who'd been in the invasion force always seemed the most fearless. But she wasn't ready to admit she was afraid by telling him to wipe the grin off his face. Certainly not to an ally she could trust. Mostly.
But there still was something she could say. “Not to underplay how serious this is. That is extremely worrying that that happened...” she commented solemnly.
He replied in kind, “So really no way out of this summit?”
“Nope,” she shook her head. “The Supreme Commander himself ordered we attend it.” Something about new weapons' technology. “Now, about the Spectacular, I take it the preparations have gone smoothly?”
“Yes, but I've been wanting to talk about that... as usual, the star of the show has been so drunk and drugged she could laugh through torture, and the crowd won't even be able to tell as long as the gag stays in.”
The governor remembered how the prisoner would usually panic and struggle in their delirium, despite feeling no pain.
Nightgale continued, “But really, what difference does it even make? Pain is in the memory, and they won't be alive to remember any mercy you did or didn't show them in an hour. And they're usually so terrified they'd might as well be in terrible pain. I think I'd rather die lucid and in pain than like that.”
“You're an outstanding security chief, Nightgale, but I'm the governor, and I'm responsible for what happens to my ponies,” she answered with resolve, but turned away to look out the window and sulk. Is it really so hopeless? If I don't hold Spectaculars, then national headquarters will just replace me with someone who will. I thought maybe I could take away that horrible suffering by drugging them, but am I just making it worse? Is there no hope – no way to make it better?
When she heard his voice again, she blinked a few times to clear her eyes and face him again.
“Well, as your security chief, I'm a bit concerned about your well-being is all. It's a needless risk to show compassion to our avowed enemies like that. Imagine if The Falconer found out.”
“Some spectaculars, like this one, have much bigger, dirtier secrets than drugging the star of the show, Nightgale. You know it.”
“Yes, but so does high command, and they approve of that. The populace must believe in our ability to win so they can have hope, and they need to see who is responsible for all that we must do. But drugging the pony? That serves no purpose other than some fleeting sentiment for a creature that won't exist in an hour.”
“A pony,” Spectrum snapped. “And that's enough about this, Nightgale. Hatten may demand I have a preshow, but I can't, and I won't have it if I know they can actually feel it – not when these drugs exist. I don't care if they think my compassion is misplaced, you and I both know it isn't, and you know what it's like to lose ponies you're meant to protect. This is no different to me.”
Now Nightgale turned away to think for a moment. The silence was thick, stretching long moments before he finally turned back to her. “I understand, actually. Or I did, at one point. I was only concerned for your safety is all. But... you're making me remember, I suppose, Governor. Remember some things I'd forgotten... And to think my stallions took the responsibility on willingly, but yours didn't? I apologize for overstepping my bounds.”
“It's alright, I understand your intentions. Thank you for understanding.”
She sighed quietly, then looked over at the passing buildings through her window. As her mind started to relax after the encounter, she felt a familiar twitch in her wings. Hardly a second passed before her eyes were closed, and she was imagining taking to flight over the rooftops, through the streets, doing rolls, climbs, stalls and dives through the black sky.
As governor, I'm one of the few ponies who probably could get away with doing all those things, other than a soldier or policepony in combat. And yet, as governor, I also have a responsibility to appear dignified and not do something so frivolous and...
Years of experience had given her the finely tuned skill of remaining sitting up, and her eyes even open while she snoozed. She was startled awake without making a sound, though sounds came from around her.
“Snowfall, snowfall, snowfall! I repeat, snowfall, snowfall, snowfall!” crackled through the radio, sounds of gunshots audible behind the pegasus' panicked voice. Just a moment later the governor heard gunshots just a few blocks away with her own ears.
She looked at Nightgale wide-eyed for a moment of disbelief, while his look was a more calm, though alert one.
“Copy, unicorn prisoner has now been prematurely executed, repeat, unicorn prisoner is dead. All communications referring to 'unicorn' now refer to the one at large. Snowfall reporter, give us sistat, end,” a professional voice calmly replied.
“We are engaging the unic- by the Azure skies! It's already gone! End!” He quickly cut off, leaving them in silence for a tense moment.
The car came to a halt, the driver turning back to the two, “Orders, governor? Are we still-”
The radio piped up again, “Unicorn is at city square! We-” he quickly cut off to static.
“Pathhoof, sistat? What's the sistat!? End.” The other pegasus frantically replied.
“Governor?” the driver asked again.
“Take us to city square!” she immediately barked in response.
“M'am!?” Nightgale startled.
“You've got your gun, right? Got one for me, too?” Spectrum asked.
The car started again, its engine sputtering to life and power, driving the machine far more quickly than before.
He started as he pulled a pistol out from under his chair, “Uh – yes – but you should head back and let-”
“No! I'm the only one who I'll let authorize a gem dust bombardment. I won't put that blood on your hooves,” she asserted. “And as I said, these civilians are my ponies. I'm the only one who orders them to die, it's my duty. If I fail to protect them all, then I'm the one who will answer for it.”
They both knew high command couldn't care less about a few civilian deaths. They both knew she wasn't talking about that kind of responsibility.
He pursed his lips for a moment, looking at her with narrowed eyes, then nodded understandingly. “Alright.” He offered her the pistol, and she took it, strapping it on her hoof. "I understand."
She pushed on a button next to the radio set. “This is Governor Spectrum, in the loop. Starcreak Battery, prepare all two-twenty milimeters with UMAS rounds, but do not, I repeat do not fire without my explicit authorization. Set sights on city square. Chief of watch, just get me info on the unicorn's position, end,” she ordered the gem dust rounds loaded and ready.
“Yes, governor!” came an immediate reply.
Her ears perked as she heard screaming crowds draw nearer. She looked away from the radio to see crowds fleeing from where they were going. They stuffed the streets. Leaning in to the window, she could see flights of pegasi in the sky above scramble towards the chaos.
“Stop the car!” she ordered the driver, who immediately complied. The crowds gave a wide berth around the armed guards who hovered around the vehicle, weapons ready.
“This is city square!” the same professional voice from earlier came back on, “I was knocked away in a kinetic attack, but I'm still capable. We have losses. The unicorn has wings, I report, the damn thing has wings! It's set a bubble shield over the body of the one we executed. City square is already almost empty. Advise UMAS salvos immediately, end!”
Wings. Her pupils shrank – an alicorn!?
If alicorns actually exist, then - !
She threw a hoof back to the transmit button, “Starcreak, you're cleared for a single UMAS shot immediately! I repeat, only one shot, get it out on City Square! End!” She didn't even stick around to listen for a response. Her wings were hungry for flight. She turned the latch on her car door and kicked it open, flared her wings, and once a few steps out of the car, shot into the sky.
Startled guards immediately took off to escort her.
Okay, let's see what you meant by 'almost empty'...
Her heart pounded with both fear, and now thrill as she felt the air rush around her, and the skyline and streets sank below as she was freed from the cold, cobblestone streets. Only a few blocks away she saw the huge clearing in front of the large ministry buildings. In the grand square she saw the small wood stage and a distant glowing, magenta orb on it. By now, the clearing was empty of civilians except for a few that laid motionless – she guessed they must've been trampled.
But for a moment, most of her forgot everything in this brief jaunt of freedom. She stopped flapping, letting herself go weightless for a serene moment as her flight peaked, then flipped backwards. She backflipped into a dive, streaking back to the car in a wild rush of speed, and flaring her wings out only at the last moment, smashing back onto the cobblestone too fast to feel good on her hooves.
Her grin melted as she shook her head, and got back in the car, her focus immediately returning.
A few civilians are probably injured, possibly even dead already. I already ordered one round... She bit her lip. They might survive that. Maybe even two. But this is possibly an alicorn! If they can't survive two UMAS rounds, that's a sacrifice I'll just have to make. If alicorns actually exist, this changes everything – for the entire world.
Nightgale finally appeared back on the other side of the car, just climbing back in. “What's going on?” he asked intently.
She pressed the transmit button. “Cleared for a second Unicorn Magic Area Suppression round, repeat one additional gem dust – UMAS round may be fired, try to airburst over the central gallows with it. Governor end.”
After a second of pause, the mortar battery replied, “Roger, second shot fired! End. First shot... burst in three seconds – impact!” A few seconds later they heard the bang.
“I wanted to see the square for myself,” she explained to her security captain, then reached in to the transmit button again. “All forces, this is Governor Full Spectrum again – take all measures to attempt to capture this unicorn alive. Remove horn on capture as per nightfall contingency, but I am placing a high priority on taking it alive! I repeat, capture alive at all costs!”
The concrete floor, roof and walls of the hallway the governor walked down were painted white with an odd paint that glittered – a paint mixed with gem dust. Guards wearing uniforms with the same odd glitter flanked her on both sides, carrying rifles ready with specialty ammunition.
Behind them was the face of a bunker they'd just come out from. Ahead, far down the featureless hall, a series of bars turned the dead end of the passageway into a cell. Long ago it had been designed to hold the most powerful wizards. Now unicorn captures were so rare in the dome it could be used for any unfortunate enough to be caught.
The pony-like beast was stripped naked, gagged and blindfolded, each hoof clamped to the slanted wall with large, steel restraints. A rope around the neck also disappeared into a device with a turnwheel next to its body. They'd put a belted wing binder on it. Its forehead was bandaged and bloody from the horn removal.
Nightgale is more qualified for this. He could easily get more information out of the beast.
But they say it has wings! I can see the wing binders, but I have to see the wings for myself. I want to ask the questions. I want to hear its responses. Maybe I've not done interrogations like this before but I know my way around talking to a pony and trying to glean truth from them.
And I worry Nightgale would get overzealous. I want to break this creature enough that it tells the truth, but not so much that it's totally ruined. Not if it may actually be an alicorn.
She had seen the magenta glow herself, though from more than a mile away. And the reports confirmed it had instantly disappeared and re-appeared miles away. Only one other unicorn she'd known of had such power.
The governor and her escort made their way into the cell. “Leave us,” she ordered the guards. “I wish to speak to the creature alone. You may watch from the bunker.”
“Aye, m'am!” they nodded, leaving behind a cart with a whip, knives, a hammer and nails, some rags and buckets of water. They made their way back down the narrow hall. She nervously glanced down at the kit.
Once they were all out of earshot, she approached and removed the alicorn's gag.
It still just hung limply in its restraints.
She waited for it to speak, first.
She waited a long time.
“A-are you still there?” the prisoner finally asked, then coughed.
She speaks Delphinian. I speak it well enough that this should be fine.
She briefly considered starting by mentioning the ponies that were dead because of the creature's appearance, but felt a pit in her stomach as she thought, it's a unicorn, it won't care if it killed ponies.
She waited a few more seconds to make sure the prisoner didn't feel like she was answering it. “Listen, unicorn, you can either make this very easy for us, or very painful for you. I'm going to give you a chance to make it easy, though. We want to know a few things. Like what your purpose is here, and where you came from, and If more are coming.”
“Rainbow Dash?” she asked.
Spectrum growled. “Don't make up nonsense like that to test my patience... We have methods of torture that can make you beg for the mercy of death. I even brought some of the more lightweight ones with me. Have you ever been strangled until you convulse in agony? Had your hooves chiseled apart? I could put nails in you, right now.”
The creature was shaking.
“You-you wouldn't do that if I just tell you the truth, right? You sound just like a friend of mine. Rainbow mane and tail, magenta eyes, cyan, pegasus mare – loyal to a fault and loves nothing more than the thrill of flight. Do you look like that?” She looked at her despite the blindfold.
“Rainbow hair...? Hah! Are you drunk?” she scoffed. It's a lucky guess. Has to be!What else could it be?
Powerful wizardry?
What am I saying - “lucky guess” - there's no way she just GUESSED that! Nopony has this freaky mane – who's also a cyan pegasus with magenta eyes and loves flight – but nopony even knows I love that!
But why did she call me 'Rainbow Dash'?
She felt herself shift on her hooves, glad the prisoner couldn't see her uneasiness.
Spectrum continued, still putting confidence in her voice, “They were supposed to send a captain to interrogate you, beast, but I was curious to see and talk to you, myself, before you were completely broken into a sniveling mess. So here's your chance to impress me with something I like, or you may learn what it's like to have your hooves chiseled apart.”
“I – you wanted to know what I want? If there are more coming? There aren't any more coming, no. I just came to save my friend, the other unicorn...” she answered honestly, fear hurrying into her voice, only to be followed by sorrow as she continued, “her name was Rarity... But I already failed at that... And I come from - … I come from a whole different world. Other friends of mine have other versions of themselves here, so, because you sound like a friend from that other world, I thought you might be her other version. I'm – I'm not good at lying, so I can't even lie to tell you something else. But why do you do this? Do you really think unicorns cause the winter? I'm not here to fight you, I'm just here to rescue my friend!” Its head bowed and voice lowered again. “My friend who's already dead. Now I just want to go home...”
She's jabbering on with pitiful nonsense. No witch this powerful would be so naive! What a stupid act! I have to show her I'm no fool!
The governor shook her head. “'Another world'? What does that even mean? I don't know if I like that answer... So let me ask another question, rope, knife, or nail?”
“It – it means I got here through a book! I read a book to get here! I – either it's a fictional world we're in or it opened a portal or -”
“Last chance. Rope, knife, or nail?” she calmly asked.
“For what? What do you mean?!” she panicked, her breath quickening. “I told you the truth – it's magic, that's why you're afraid of unicorns, right!? So you have to know magic exists! I can't answer your questions if I don't know what you're asking!”
“I'm partial to rope, myself, so I'll go with that one.” She reached and started turning the wheel next to the alicorn. The rope around its neck started to tighten.
“Wait – wait! What are you doing!?” she cried, fighting her restraints furiously, helplessly. “That's the truth, I promise! How do I prove it to you?! What do you want?!” Her breath started to strain against the choke. “Just tell me wha – hck!” she started writhing against her restraints as her air was cut off, gagging one last time before the governor finally held the wheel in place tightly enough that she couldn't even sputter through it again.
The creature's chest heaved wildly and it shook madly.
All the executions I've seen were necessary. But is this? “How do I prove it to you?” A liar wouldn't give me a blank check like that!
But such an outlandish story! And it's the first one she gave! It can't be true!
I can't forget it's a killer. Being an alicorn doesn't change that.
The only way to find out is to keep pushing. And once she's broken I can ask the real questions.
But how far do I have to go? What if she really is from some peaceful shard-state and is broken already!? She speaks Delphinian – that language spread to a lot of shard-states, didn't it!? It would even explain that!
By the Azure Skies! If she's from some shard-state or actually insane – is it possible this isn't all some stupid ruse!? She quickly glanced around, trying to figure out who to order to make it stop, only to realize it was her own hoof on the wheel.
She let go, the rope loosened.
The alicorn coughed, breaking down into uncontrollable sobbing.
I can't do this. What the hell was I thinking? That I'd interrogate the alicorn myself? I was just so damn eager to talk to it!
Why am I shrinking now! I know what this thing did, whether or not it's an alicorn!
"You can save your sympathy card, beast! Nine of my ponies are dead because of you!"
"Wh-what?" it broke through its sobbing.
"Two of the guards you knocked off the gallows died. Seven other ponies were trampled in the panic you caused. You knew the guards would die from that fall - you probably hoped for it, didn't you!?" genuine anger came into her voice.
"I - I didn't mean to - I can't... I'm sorry." It bowed its head.
"'I'm sorry' doesn't cut it for this! Not for those you've killed today or the millions who've died in this endless winter because of you!" She glanced away, biting her lip, trying to hold back her rage from getting her off-track.
The prisoner just started crying again and muttering, "I - I didn't mean to, I was only trying to save my friend..."
And just like that, the governor's anger melted. You risked killing a few who were trying to kill your friend to save that friend, huh?
If you didn't knock them away, they would've killed you.
But now look at you, you killed a few to save others, and only ended up killing many times more than you would've saved, even if you got away.
She understood the misery on the prisoner's face. She immediately knew the tears were real.
At least I know I've saved tens of times as many as I've killed.
Unless I'm wrong, and you're an alicorn.
She glanced back at the bunker far behind her. They don't know what I'm saying up here, do they? She turned back to the prisoner.
They can see me from back there, but with my back to them, they can't lipread me, even if any of them could even lipread...
“I want to know why – or how, you're an alicorn. That's all. Are you really an alicorn?” the governor asked.
“Y-yes!” she croaked. “I – I am!” she cried out.
The governor took off the alicorn's wing binder and looked at the wings.
“W-what do you want with my wings?” she asked, her voice trembling, her wings flexing anxiously.
“Leave them limp,” the governor commanded.
She obeyed.
But in the off-chance she's not just pulling me through a ruse... She seems to be an alicorn after all. So there is a chance she's sincere. I can't stomach that. I'm a horrible interrogator. Maybe I won't get far with torture, but if I can feel the proof, myself...
She carefully examined the wings with her hooves. She could feel them tremble, and every so often flex a little and relax, as though the alicorn were terrified and working hard to keep them limp. They're even tactile. If it is an illusion, they're no cheap illusion. But then again, this is one that could cast shield bubbles. But again, again, she was actually flying, at least according to the reports.
I want to see her demonstrate her ability to fly. I'll draw the line, there. If she can fly, they're real. But that is extremely dangerous, and I can't let the ponies here know about this. I have to tell them it's an illusion.
Until I know for sure it's not. If it's not, then... Then that changes everything.
She looked up at the tear-stained cheeks above the chaffed neck. Could it really be possible that at one point in our past alicorns – that Celestia and Luna – that Equestria actually existed?
But then what hope is there for the world? The very legends are restricted knowledge.
If we keep having to torture innocent fillies like this to keep the world alive, then is it a world even worth existing?
She bit her lip. What am I going to do with her, then? I think – I think those wings are real. If they're real, then... Then she's part pegasus, and that means she's a 'she', not an 'it'. But – I can't be sure until we make her prove her ability to fly! But we'll need a lot of special restraints to do that safely. Yes, we can use something like a gallows. A noose to force her to fly, but she also needs to be restrained to the ground so she can't fly away.
But then we'll also need blood samples, tissue samples – are the wings some sick chimeric amalgamation from another pony's body? Or are they her own? Are they natural, or magic? I'll have to be careful in how I get the sample. I don't know how that's done or how much I'll need or who I'd even be able to send it to to analyze it.
And then there's that damn summit I have to leave for tomorrow morning. Damn, of all the times! If I leave her here Icewind will surely cut her wings off and have her executed like any other regular unicorn would be – or worse, just burn her to hide the evidence that alicorns may exist.
That's the smart thing to do. That's what I should do. I shouldn't even think of undermining my own party, my own authority and the rule of law that holds this world together by asking if alicorns can actually exist.
But if they do... Then I don't care if it kills us all. This has to stop. If Clover the Clever's journal is true, and Ironhide's accounts really are all lies – if he really did lie, and alicorns really can, and do, exist... Then everything we've built this party on is a lie, and it should crumble down.
And it will mean I've killed a hundred thousand ponies for a lie...
But I have to know.
I have to prove those deaths meant something! I have to prove this is or isn't an alicorn, but I can't just ignore it! If these are pegasi wings torn from some innocent victim then it'll prove we're justified, too!
Her eyes lit up, then quickly darkened again with a slight bow of her head. But it'll also prove this is such a terrible world that the purges really were necessary for survival...
“What-what are you looking for?” the alicorn finally asked as the Governor held one of her wings in a long silence.
The governor snapped out of her thoughts. “How'd you get those wings?” she asked, and started putting the binder back on the prisoner's wings.
She didn't resist.
“Princess Celestia gave them to me. In-in another world,” she added, her voice still shaking in fear.
Princess Celestia!? Weren't alicorns supposed to be immortal?
The governor paused in her work, going wide-eyed and fumbling with her mouth as she lipped the words to herself. Princess Celestia? In... Could she not only have actually existed – but still be alive somewhere? Can alicorn magic do that? Make other alicorns?
She thought for a moment longer, then pity finally won out. She continued strapping the binder back on the prisoner. I'm a magistrate for buck's sake, not a sergeant, or a captain.This is ridiculous, I should've just sent one of the interrogators. She's beating me, her captor, at a psychological game. I know it.
But... I can't bear the slight possibility she's not even playing one. Maybe she killed some ponies... But can I blame her for those who were trampled? Can I blame her for blowing guards away? And I saw her tears when I told her... She cares, and that makes all the difference.
She cares, so she's not a creature I can keep doing this to. She finished with the binder, then spoke barely above a whisper, “Look, unicorn, whatever your name is... Do you even have a name?”
“T-Twilight Sparkle.”
“Twilight, maybe this is some reverse psychology trick you're playing, pulling an act so stupid that I wouldn't believe you'd try to pull such a stupid act and I'd believe you – or maybe you're trying to look so damn pathetic we'd go easy and let you off light, but whatever it is, it's working. Because in the off-chance you are being sincere, I'm going to tell you this – we're done for now. And – and in the off-chance you actually are...” she froze on the words. Am I seriously considering this likely enough to even mention it? “...innocent. I'm sorry. And there's nothing I can ever do to make it up to you, what we've done to you and your kind. The only thing I can do to set things right...”
Damnit, I'm being diplomatic, not torturous! I'm not here to win her favor, I'm here to make her piss herself in terror!
But I've already started saying it! I'll look a fool if I don't finish.
“-is find out. If you are truly innoce-”
“I AM!” she cried out with such soul, terror, and desperation it made the governor's ears fall flat.
I'm done. I'm not a stronger pony like Nightgale. I can't handle this. I want to talk to Veil about this. Then I'll come back.
She reached up and pushed the alicorn's chin up to close her mouth. Her own voice was still hushed. “Then I'll see what I can do. Until then, not another word to anypony.” She replaced the gag on the alicorn. “I have my ways of learning the truth. I'll flay your skin off if you've lied to me, so here's your last chance – did you lie to me?”
The quaking alicorn shook her head.
“I'll find out if you did, beast. In the meantime, you'd best not even move your head around. The guards tend to be a bit antsy around anything you do. I've once seen a unicorn shot for sneezing.” Though I'm leaving out important details from that story... Without another word, she took the cart and left, locking the cell closed behind her, and returning to the bunker.
“I've gotten what we need for now. This one's an important mine of information. Don't kill it. You have no reason to even touch it without my authorization, or the punishment will be severe. And the wings are probably an illusion, pay no heed to them,” she told the guards, hiding her real emotions with many years of skilled practice. "From me directly, this great order thanks you for your bravery and devotion to doing your part to the letter. Every cog drives the machine."
"Every cog drives the machine!" the guards echoed with a salute.
"For spring to come," she added.
"For spring to come!" they echoed again.
"As you were." She left, her own guards following her.
As she made her way out of the prison, she was lost in thought.
The blood of almost two hundred thousand stains my hooves. A hard, but honorable duty to preserve the last flicker of life in the world, if she's a fraud, and alicorns don't actually exist.
But it also means the world really is so terrible that it was necessary. I can't bear that thought.
But if she's really an alicorn, and Celestia does exist, then my role in The Vanguard is a major part of why the world is like this. Then all that death was for nothing, meaning I've committed an unnecessary atrocity, and everything I've ever fought for... I've been on the wrong side. Me, my father, Nightgale, Steelheart... Misled by a lie. I can't bear that thought.
But it also means the world isn't a terrible world where what I did was necessary.
Twilight was lost on an island of thought. Her wings and limbs bound, blindfolded, gagged, she laid on the inclined concrete wall. There was a lingering pain in the back of her throat from whatever mist had blown in her face from the canister. Her mouth was painfully dry, but they'd given her nothing to eat or drink for what felt like days, though it was impossible to know how long she hung there.
She couldn't remember when she'd given up on trying to make sense of the world. Sombra had created a terrible dystopia, but he was a powerful, legendary wizard with such magical skill and knowledge he rivaled the alicorns themselves. Anyone who opposed him, he could easily defeat alone.
But here, apparently this kingdom hated unicorns, and alicorns, too. How could any tyrant rule without such power? Why would ponies willingly be so terrible to each other? This world could be nothing but an absurd fiction. There was no sense in trying to understand why they'd taken away her magic and bound her so she couldn't even move a sore limb. It was a glaring plothole as ridiculous – but far darker and worse – than Spike's Power Ponies comic her and her friends had gotten stuck in.
But it wasn't like being a Power Pony. She tried to be a heroine, but now only hung powerless. Knowledge, logic and reason were superpowers that could get her out of any bind, but when the world itself ignored logic with such absurdity as ponies being this cruel, what could be done? How could she hope to reason her way to life, never mind freedom, when ponies were so unreasonable?
Maybe it'll be Pinkie or Applejack that saves me. Or Rainbow Dash coming in after she's heard we read the book, she scoffed through her gag. Or maybe it's just a terrible tragedy. At the very least, I got Rarity kicked out of the book before the worst of it. Her ears folded down. Or maybe she actually just... No, there's no way to know. We never died in Spike's comic book but there's no reason to assume death wouldn't just kick us out. So why assume Rarity really died? There's no way to know until I find some way back.
Or if dying kicks us out, I'll find out when they... she shivered as she remembered being unable to breathe, cry out or even beg.
I always felt uncomfortable when history books mentioned executions. How cold and cruel ponies could be to each other is – it's absolutely unbelievable. And it always disturbed me to wonder what it was like to be so completely helpless and bound as others ended my life. I guess now I'll find out, at least...
Unless... Unless somepony rescues me.
But... Without my horn... If I survive like this, will I return to Equestria without a horn? Or will I be healed? But if they kill me here, either that will be it, and I'll be dead, or I'll return to Equestria whole... right?
I'm not sure I want to go back and live without my horn. She felt her eyes water as she remembered Celestia raising the sun, so long ago, when she was a mere blank-flanked filly. How the princess of light lifted into the sky, and the brilliant sun rose and showered the world with warmth on that summer solstice. What would even be the purpose of living, without magic?
Friendship, I guess? friendship has been more fulfilling than magic has been. But then who am I? Even more of a joke of a princess than I was before. How am I supposed to protect my subjects if I can't even protect myself? Not as though I could protect Rarity even when I had my magic...
She suddenly found herself sobbing. I – I can't protect myself. No matter how much I knew, I couldn't – no, I could, but I failed! I can't even live on my own, nevermind save other ponies. What kind of joke of a princess am I!?
She couldn't take it, so she went somewhere else. She just wanted the pain to stop, to be somewhere else – so she imagined an island.
She could see the bright sun and crystal blue sky on her tropical island. Pinkie and Rainbow were playing in the water, Fluttershy and Rarity were sunbathing, while Applejack gathered some coconuts to make a drink.
She felt her conscience nab at her constantly – you know you're lying to yourself. Stop running away. Face your problems! It's the only way to overcome them!
But why? I can't overcome them so why face them!? I'm clearly the damsel in distress in this horrid story. This isn't some Daring Do adventure. My friend is dead – I held her body. I was too late. I'm probably not even going to be rescued at all, and my horn is gone, I can't even lift a hoof or beg for water, so why just torture myself more by facing it?
Everypony else has tortured me enough. Can't I at least... Just pretend for a little...
She fought herself for hours, tiring her mind more and more. Her thoughts grew more sluggish and hazy as the endless hours of her mute blindness stretched on with her lying on the concrete wall, partially hanging from the cold metal restraints.
I guess there's something... almost nice about being the damsel in distress. I lost. I lost my friend, my magic, I can't even make the slightest move, and they'll shoot me if I make the slightest sound or even start to escape. It's over.
There's nothing left for me to do or to worry about – I can worry about how they'll kill me, but nothing I can do will stop it.
She felt her ears fold down again, pressing flat against the sides of her head this time.
The agony of her failures panged her mind again. I can't do anything about it, now. So there's nothing to worry about. I – I did my best. But I failed. Maybe I should just... accept that. Let go. It's not like it's going to make a difference now, anyways. My life is in other pony's hooves, and they're going to end it, soon.
At least I can die knowing I was just the poor victim in all of this. I tried to be a heroine. That's got to count for something, right?
Whether I see Celestia after this in the astral plane, or back in Canterlot... I can proudly tell her what I did. I did what I could to rescue my friend.
But... it's over now.
She could feel muscles relax that she hadn't even realized were tense, easing some of her pain. It's okay. It's going to hurt a lot and I'll die, but... this will all be over soon. I don't have any more decisions to make. No plans to go wrong. I know exactly what will happen. They'll drag me out like Rarity, torture me, and kill me, and I'll be free. I just have to wait. There's nothing else I can do, anyways. She repeated to herself, feeling a fresh wave of tears come to her eyes. But this time, she cried quietly. This time, the tears washed pain away as she felt herself relax.
I did my best. But it's not my fault anymore. No decisions or plans to make or worry about, nothing I can fail at, because it's impossible, literally impossible for me to fail at the one thing I have left to do – that they'll do to me, to set me free. It's all out of my hooves.
And maybe, just maybe somepony will rescue me, and our friendship will grow. But that's not for me to worry about. I'm just the damsel in distress. No matter what I do from here out, I'm... she felt another hot, fresh wave of tears well up. I'm the good pony. And I get to relax, now. My part is over. Maybe forever.
Being a damsel in distress isn't all that bad...
Her ears perked as she heard hoofsteps. It wasn't the same deep clod of the guards' boots, and it wasn't a whole group of guards changing shifts. It wasn't a march, either, but slow, confident, lone strides.
“Twilight Sparkle,” a smooth, confident voice sounded. She raised her head.
She felt her blindfold and gag wrapped in magic and pulled off. Everything was a thick blur – she blinked a few times as her eyes slowly made sense of the world again.
In front of her stood a purple unicorn in a deep blue robe that sparkled with magic as stars twinkle with light. The prison looked nothing like she expected. She was in the only cell at the end of a long hall painted with some glittering white paint. The closest guards were far away – and yet stood unnaturally rock still, watching her with lifeless eyes. Even without her horn, it was easy to sense that powerful magic was at play.
She felt her hooves phase through her restraints, and she was carefully, gently lowered to the ground by the unicorn. “Who-” it took her a second to get used to her own voice again. She cleared her throat, the lingering pain from the mist still there. “who are you?”
The robed mare relished and articulated every word, speaking poetically, “It is written, 'For though the Proud One be lost in the shadows, the Angel shall guide her to light. The captives shall be freed, The Proud shall be humbled, and shall return to her eternal rest. Thus shall the new be born, the slain return, and be free from their captivity in the shadows.' I, Twilight Sparkle, am a forgotten child. But to you, I am the angel of death. I am the angel of mercy.”
Her heart sank. Her limbs were sore – she could only even stand because the unicorn's magic helped hold her up. She knew it was unusual for her – she knew she should be, and normally would be, defiant to the end. But she was weak, and even more confused by the unicorn's cryptic ramblings. Even with the helping force of the 'angel's magic, she shook with her own hunger, exhaustion and thirst. “T-then you want to?...”
“No.” The unicorn shook her head. “I do not want to end your life. I want to offer you an easier way out, in one way, and in another way, I am here to take you home, to a home you do not yet remember. I do not want to see you tortured and abused, to suffer horribly the pains that await you – even exceedingly worse by far than you've experienced here. If you suffer those pains, they will hurt me, and they will hurt you, long after you have died, even,” she explained.
Twilight looked intently at her. “Then – then you know that this world...?”
“Is but a story, yes. Or rather, that you see it as nothing but a story. Yet I do not speak of your release from it, as you believe it will come. I speak of something different entirely. You remember the land from where you came, but I speak of a home you have forgotten, a home here that I will restore to your memory. It is something you are not now prepared to comprehend, though you will, in due time, in some other form. Twilight Sparkle, all that you need know is you have a choice before you.” Materializing out of the air, she formed a teacup with a strong, warm smell, and a glass of red wine, and set them in front of Twilight.
She gestured towards the wine, “drink the red wine, and I will give you some comfort and rest, though you will be left to the hooves of these fools who seek to torture and slay you. This will not only hurt you greatly, but it will also cause me great pain, and another, as well. Drink the tea, and I will take you somewhere beautiful and warm as the land from whence you came, where you will die peacefully, quietly, comfortably, with all the privacy you want.”
Twilight's eyes widened. She looked at the two drinks, then up at the rock-still guards, then at the unicorn. “I – I'm free now, I -”
“No,” the unicorn interrupted. “You will die in these next twenty-four hours, Twilight. One way or another, you will certainly die. I will not save your life. I will not slay you, either, however. But the tea will make your death painless. I will lull you to sleep on silk pillows, under warm sunlight, to the sounds of chirping birds and trickling water, if you like. Take a small sip, and you will have days in my paradise to bid your life farewell. Drink the whole thing, and you will die immediately, all your worries and fears gone with you. But drink the wine, or drink neither, and I will give you a few minutes of rest, and something to drink, and then return you to your captors to do with you as they please.”
“But – why?” she asked pitifully. “You – you can save me. You're doing it now! So why do you want me dead so badly?”
The unicorn shook her head again. “I do not wish for your death. In fact, why don't I change my offer? The wine is just the same as if you drank neither, really, so why not use it for something else?” She smiled as she switched from using archaic to using more modern vocabulary. She now spoke casually, a happy smile on her face, “Drink the wine, and I will bring you to my Eternal Refuge – and its grand library within it – the same paradise that awaits you with the tea, only I will grant you an entire decade of life, so long as you agree and know you will die before the ten years are out. I'll even give you back your horn, though that may take awhile. But I would be pleased to speak with you about your world, and we shall live in endless bliss, you will be free from the bonds of metal and responsibility that bind you.”
“Responsibility?” she asked. It was apparent this would not end quickly, nor did she want to be rushed away from an opportunity to speak to this pony – whoever she was – so she sat down.
“Twilight,” the unicorn started more solemnly, “I am not offering you a decade of life lightly, or as though you would enjoy this more than being free as you were before. I am offering it as an alternative to being tortured to death on a public stage of humiliation and agony. There are no routes left for you to save your friends. Your life, and the lives of those you love, are out of your hooves now. Shackled hooves can hardly be held responsible for what they've failed to do. Rest now.” She put a hoof on Twilight's back, and with a single, smooth motion, Twilight felt all the pain, stress, fear and anxiety in her body melt away, from her pained forehead, to her sore hooves.
The unicorn offered again, “Live, speak with me for a time, then die on your own terms, on pillows, with your mane being stroked, as gently as falling asleep under the care of a loving mother, or return to those shackles to be horribly tortured. I apologize, but I cannot save you as you would truly wish, nor do circumstances allow me to explain why in greater detail. But this is your choice. It does not seem a hard choice to me.”
The alicorn looked at the wine glass at her hooves.
The concrete floor was hard, her mind thick and hazy from her blindness and the silence. The room was cold, and she couldn't forget the rope that had been around her neck.
Yet across the wine glass was a warm bed, a library of ancient and otherworldly knowledge, and the same great wizard who now stood in front of her.
How can I break free by myself? I have no magic anymore, yet this pony can conjure drinks from air, leave the guards oblivious and even oblivious to their own oblivion. There's no doubt her abilities rival even my own! And she promised my horn...
“Perhaps, you hope against all chance that you may see Equestria once more, do you not?”
Twilight's head shot back up. “You know about Equestria?”
The strange pony nodded. “Yes, though only as well as you do. And I understand that, to you, this world seems fake. I know not what to say to this solipsistic flight of fancy, but that I have lived here a long, long time, and that is enough for me. And I am sorry to say, but that your odds of returning, in some way, are best, I believe, if you drink either the wine or the tea. If you stay here, I believe it less likely you will ever see your Celestia or Equestrian friends again,” she simply stated. “It must seem an odd thing – I have asserted you will surely die, no matter what – and this is still true – yet in some form you may see Equestria again, and that it is more likely to happen if you come with me. I cannot explain it all, yet. You are not ready, but come with me, read my libraries, and you will come to understand all.”
“I...” she hesitated. “I'll do neither.” She stood up. She still felt the unicorn's magic helping her stand, even as she stood against her. The Angel looked surprised, but not angry as Twilight continued, “I know you think it's impossible for me to survive, but I'm not drinking poison, and I'm not agreeing to die. Somehow – somehow I'll get out of this.”
She bit her lip nervously, anxiety coming over her in crashing waves as she questioned her decision. I – I know I'll have to be rescued but... Rescued for a less painful death? That's not a rescue at all! She affirmed to herself. At least – at least I still have a chance like this! SOME chance! Maybe my friends will still somehow rescue me! But if I drink poison – or just as bad or worse, if I agree to die to a powerful wizard – then what?
Then I'll have no hope of guiding Pinkie Pie and Applejack home!
I still don't know for sure that dying will take me back to Equestria, and I'm not going to agree to be trapped here for ten years while my friends need me!
The stranger was merely silent for a long minute, before bowing her head. She muttered, “I have failed.” She pulled her hood back, revealing a deep purple mane. With her eyes now finally adjusted and focused, Twilight noticed the bridge of the unicorn's snout was speckled with darker purple.
The Angel conjured up two more teacups next to her, then walked over to, and sat next to Twilight. A pillow appeared beneath each of them.
The sudden plush softness was a welcome break from the hard metal and concrete she'd felt for so long. “What are you doing?” she asked with surprise.
“If it makes no difference to the world of the surface, then at least I can give you a little comfort before you die. This is a tradition The Governor herself would normally perform. Though she would give you a large shot of a strong, alcoholic drink just before your execution, I think I'll offer you some plain tea, instead. What flavor would you like?”
“Well, given you just offered me poisoned tea I'm a little turned off by the idea...” she refused.
The robed pony's voice dropped with a tone of annoyance, “If I wanted to kill you regardless of your consent, do you really think I'd have to resort to trickery?”
Twilight thought for a moment, glancing between the tea and the wizard. “...I think I'd actually prefer hot chocolate.”
The self-proclaimed Angel of Mercy chuckled softly, a slight, calm smile appearing on her lips. The tea swirled with magic and turned brown. “You're fortunate I know what that is. This world never discovered the cocoa bean. The Winter came before they discovered many things.”
Twilight took the cocoa and smelled it. It smelled normal. Her painfully dry mouth begged for it badly enough that she almost drank immediately. Instead, she looked at the unicorn again, uncertain. “So... no poison?”
The unicorn sighed. “No. No poison. You will be slain by your entire body weight being suspended by -” she put a hoof behind Twilight's chin, against her neck “- here.” She pushed up ever so slightly, and Twilight immediately found she couldn't breathe. The unicorn immedately released, then looked down at her own tea. “You will probably writhe in agony for minutes. I'm sorry I can't save you, but I tried to make it easier for you, at least.”
“I'm not going to give up yet. I still have a chance!” she replied, standing up.
The robed stranger didn't even look away from her own drink. Her voice was apologetic, “It seems I've accidentally given you false hope – restored your broken spirit. Maybe that's for the best. It's an admirable, albeit naïve spirit. You probably don't feel much like relaxing, though it's what you'd love more than anything else at this time. I can't help you, though, other than what I have offered. I have an old promise to keep.” She stood up, and Twilight's drink turned to a glass of water.
“At least take a drink. No promise, no poison, just refreshment to help you be a bit more comfortable. If you don't trust my cocoa, at least trust my water, please.”
Her voice sounded sincere enough, and though Twilight was still on edge, wondering where or what might be a trick, she knew this unicorn was right. She really could just kill me if she wanted. Though her aches had been rested, and the sting from the gas was gone, her throat still cried for water. So she finally satisfied it with the glass floating in front of her, breathing a sigh of relief as the glass was emptied.
As she turned to speak to the robed pony, she found her right in front of her, her hood back up, setting her hoof on her shoulder and looking her square in the eyes. “Adieu, Twilight Sparkle. Cry for the 'Angel of Mercy', and I will come. No gag will keep me from understanding your cry. But for now, and perhaps forever if you hold your voice, adieu.”
In an instant she was back on her shackles, blindfolded and gagged, the loose rope around her neck that the governor had tortured her with.
Just like that, it's over!? Did I – did I dream that? That wasn't a dream, was it!?
She knew better than to cry out, but she couldn't keep from at least screaming it in her head, please, don't just leave me!
She said I could cry for her and – the panic in her mind settled. No. I'm not going to ask her to kill me. Celestia said I would find a way home, and... I'm going to.
Somehow.
Governor Spectrum had called off a regular cabinet meeting, leaving it to Captain Steelheart to manage tomorrow. On this last evening before the trip, she had decided she needed time to think.
She was alone in the palace aviary – a sort of warm garden with ponds. She sat on a stone path that ran beside one of the pools, staring at the rippling reflection of the brilliant mercury-vapor lamps on the water's surface.
In paintings and drawings, water was always a beautiful blue, like the sky above it. Only a generation before hers, water had largely been this way in the domes, under their magical cerulean skies. But she'd never seen blue water before – it always just reflected the black of the sky, ever since The Great Nightfall had hit Hatten, long before she was born. Long before the aviary she sat in had been built.
This is where Veil would usually appear to speak with her. She could only guess what arcane powers the unicorn used to know when she was alone in the aviary, but somehow or other, Veil always knew.
She felt sick to her stomach as she looked into the water, thinking, still in her formal dress from her shortened day of work.
She had sat in this very spot when she'd decided to go ahead with the purges.
I nearly killed myself back then. But I decided it was my duty to stay strong. Where has that decision gone? Why do I suddenly doubt it all again?
I know it's wrong. But I know I have to. But now, with an alicorn – I wonder – did I have to? Is this really the state ponykind is consigned to forever?
The purges were never what I ordered. What I ordered was the complete destruction of all traitors, demanding full loyalty from my subjects, the purging of our society of the elements that would seek to undermine, destroy, and enslave it. A purging of everything that held us back from the glory of liberation from this winter. From the glory of dawn! I thought perhaps a thousand would die, but only as an absolute necessity so the other two million Delphinians could live.
What did I get instead? Two hundred thousand dead in my name. A tenth of the dome's entire population. Dead. Hanged, and when the gallows couldn't kill fast enough, taken into The Abyss to freeze. Maybe I should've stopped there, when there were so many...
But what, fail to hold on to Delphi, retreat back to Hatten, and let the unicorns and their winter kill the other two million survivors we had barely saved from them!? Never!
I was in the right! I didn't kill two hundred thousand, I saved almost two million! Yes, it was my duty – I'm tired of this struggle! She sat up straight, her chest puffing out, feeling the medals pinned on them.
The medals for nothing more than political favors, that she knew she didn't deserve. Her posture weakened again, her back and ears losing their rigidity. ...So why can't I just let it go?
She sighed.
Veil must have some insight on this alicorn, and how to prove if it's real or not.
Why can I see mass executions and relish my power, obsess over and seek the suffering of ponies, but the cries of a single demon are so unbearable?
She knew the answer. Because I don't relish or seek it. I obsess over it like a nightmare I can't wake up from. I... Part of me wants it. Another doesn't.
She leaned a little forward, looking at her reflection in the water. Her mane was still pale, light blue, almost identical to Icewind's. And how did the alicorn know my hair is bleached? Maybe it's one of those alicorn powers...
She spread a wing and ran her hoof through her feathers, thinking of the feeling of the feathers of creature's wings. They'd felt the same.
...If alicorns truly exist, then Ironhide was wrong, and everything The Order is built on...
“Salutations, Governor,” a smooth, confident female voice sounded behind her.
She twisted around.
A pony with deep purple fur, an even darker purple mane stood in front of her. Most of her body was hidden under a navy blue cloak a shade lighter than The Governor's own dress. The fringes of Veil's cloak and hood had intricate violet and lavender patterns that had an enchanting primordial wonder to them, and on her forehead, was a horn.
“Hark! The Angel that conquers The Proud. None shall withstand her light! You know her well!” the unicorn introduced herself with a small, polite bow.
“You... What are you saying, Veil?” Spectrum asked.
“'For though the Proud One be lost in the shadows, the Angel shall guide her to light.' 'Yet before then shall The Angel be broken, her spirit gone, her breath stopped, yet never her heart stilled. For she shall triumph over her own captivity,'” she recited more lines, as though memorized from an ancient text.
“Why say anything if you're going to say gibberish?”
Veil dashed forward and grabbed the Governor, holding her up like a mother picking up a filly in a hug. “Rejoice with me! The hour is here! The dawn breaks!”
“What!?” Spectrum gasped, pushing herself out of the embrace and hovering in front of Veil. “Dawn is rising outside the dome!?”
Veil laughed. “No, no, not yet. But the hour draws nigh! You won't live to see it. Neither will any pony alive on this world.”
“What – speak sense! What are you going on about!? Are you going to kill us all!?” The Governor landed, her wings spread and her voice indignant.
“No! You know I have an oath! I only have to wait...” The excitement faded from her voice. “You will bring your own end. And as I said when we met, I will do what you ask, to help bring you to it sooner.”
“Why are you acting like this!? Are you saying you'll betray me?” I've never seen Veil act so energetic!
“Only through loyalty. Let a fool speak, and she will shame herself. Let a fool act, and she will bring her own ruin. Look at you, Full, you are among the most powerful, yet wretched creatures I know. Even your prisoner is in less agony than you. All because of the power you have, for decisions that you could not have been prepared for...”
Yet her services are invaluable... The Governor bit her lip, but Veil spoke before she could think of a response.
“Perhaps, you will even suffer enough to get a hold of yourself and set yourself free. But enough of that. I guess you are here to inquire about an alicorn in your possession?”
Set myself free? What exactly do you mean by that? Spectrum sighed, refocusing. She's proven herself over years of service. I know she won't lie to me or betray me, she never has, even when my father tried to kill her. We couldn't get rid of her, and she won't betray or lie to me, so just work with her... she reminded herself. “Yes, Veil. Is she actually an alicorn?”
“Yes, and that is the reason for my rejoicing! She is the fulfillment of prophecy. That is how I know the dawn is near.” Her voice bore no menace, only delivery of fact, “Though not you, nor any other being on this world, will live to see it.”
“We shall see about that...” The Governor growled, then her voice turned to a sincere, questioning tone, “So does that mean... That Celestia really did exist? Is... the winter not truly brought by your kind?”
“No hooves in this world are clean of blood,” Veil muttered, then raised her voice to her usual tone again, “but some are more bloody than others, even if only stained by circumstance. You sympathized with the alicorn at one point because you recognized misery on her face. You were mistaken. She was pained because of her failure. In truth, she feels no remorse for the lives she took, because she still does not believe they were real. In your place she would gladly do all that you have done and more. Worse even than that, she would feel no remorse, because she doesn't think this world is real. But what does justice, in its blind fury, know of ignorance?
“As for myself, I have held true to my oath of non-violence. But I won't answer your question directly. Not now. You don't really want the truth, yet. You will only argue it endlessly more in your mind. When you are ready, I will show you. But for now...” she paused for a moment, her tone switching as uncertainty hit her, “I must ask, you do intend to kill this alicorn, do you not? You haven't gone so far in your questioning as to halt your work, have you?”
The governor blinked at the sudden question. “I won't kill the unicorn this time. 'Twilight', was her name? But I won't kill her yet. But I might - it depends on what your answer is to my question. But you haven't answered it! So for now I'll hold on to her.”
“...For how long?” Veil hesitantly asked.
“I don't know. I need to... think of some things,” she said, then looked down at her reflection in the pond again.
Veil sat silently behind Spectrum for long minutes, her head slightly bowed and turned as both carefully considered their next words.
Finally, Veil approached the pegasus. The governor turned to face her, and the unicorn put a hoof on her shoulder. Her voice and expression were heavy and clothed in pity. “Well, then it's decided. I cannot use you for my purposes any longer. I will seek another, then. I am truly sorry for this horrible world you have found yourself in, little pony. Know that you will be among the last generation to suffer it. The time of The Prophesy is fulfilled, it is known and foretold; the end has come. You and your kind shall be free from the torment you endlessly inflict upon yourselves. As it is written, your false sun shall purify you by fire, and the forgotten will inherit the Earth.”
The governor's heart started to race, her eyes wide.
Veil continued in her final tone. “I have been broken, my spirit gone, my breath stopped, yet never my heart stilled. I have triumphed over my own captivity, seen with my own eyes, carried a light from afar, and been the messenger of salvation for The Forgotten Children, so I know the end time has come, and I shall prevail!”
She paused for a moment, relaxed, and pulled back her hood, for the first time The Governor had ever seen. She discovered the bridge of Veil's snout was spotted with a darker purple. Her voice took on an affectionate undertone, and her eyes showed sincerity and depth. “I enjoyed our time together, Governor Full Spectrum. You're different from any of the other leaders I've seen. I must commend you for that. But there are far greater things of eternal importance unfolding here and now, and they demand another take your place... You are the only one in this den of wolves I've seen still bear a soul. Keep it, and perhaps you will find mercy in the hooves of my Dear Mother. But for the sake of the ones I love, and with a heavy heart, I must leave you. Now, I bid you adieu.” Just as suddenly, she vanished in a flash of light.
The governor was left shaking, terrified, alone. She glanced around her – the aviary was empty. “V-Veil?” she asked. “W-what happened? What's going on? What do you mean?”
Only the trickling of water in a nearby stream could be heard. “In the hooves of your 'dear mother'!? For the sake of the ones you love!?... I'm so confused. Veil, what do you mean!?” she cried out.
But nothing answered her except the trickling water.
Pinkie's ears perked as she heard the door open. She grunted in pain as she sat up in bed.
Astilbe walked inside through the rectangle of light. As the door closed again, the room was plunged back into darkness. A sliver of light came in from underneath the door, providing barely enough to see.
“C-can I sit next to you?” Astilbe asked as she stopped next to Pinkie's bed, her voice quaking.
Pinkie yawned. Her throat was still sharply sore from Twilight's surgery – but by now she was used to it. “Sure,” she sleepily, though happily replied. “Why wouldn't I be able to sleep next to myself?”
Astilbe flopped at her hooves, sideways across the bed, then rolled around to the proper orientation next to Pinkie, burying her head under a pillow.
“Uhm, I can sit up now!” Pinkie excitedly announced, but quickly changed to a tone of concern and sympathy, “but uh, is something wrong?” An ear pulled back and she cocked her head.
“I – I screwed up, Pinkie! I'm – I'm so sorry,” her voice was quiet and heavy, shaky and weak. “Can you ever forgive me?”
Worry mingled with Pinkie's sympathy. “...For what?”
“For – for keeping a secret from you? Maybe it wasn't my idea, but – but I still did it. I still went along with it. I should've just told her 'no'! Then – then she wouldn't be... And I wouldn't -!” She sniffed, then buried her head in a pillow, unable to face her pink friend.
Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but still clear enough to understand. “They killed that pony. Maybe it wasn't Rarity – maybe Rarity got away, I don't know. It was probably her. Twilight thought it was her. And now they're going to kill Twilight, too, and there's nothing we can do about it. It was all my fault for telling her – for – for not just keeping it all a secret! You're all so innocent, so naïve, you really are from Equestria! I shouldn't have -” she stopped, just sobbing into her pillow. “It's – it's all my fault...”
Now Pinkie's voice was shaking. “Wha-what do you...? You mean...” She connected it all in her head. But she barely understood the words she said, “They captured Rarity, and Twilight tried to save her – but got captured?”
Astilbe just nodded, her face still in the pillow.
It took a few seconds for it to sink in – Astilbe came back, Twilight was gone, and Twilight wasn't coming back. And now, neither was Applejack. Pinkie felt her heart start racing.
“No, no, we have to go get Applejack – then we can rescue Twilight!” she started turning over to get out of bed, only for unbearable pain to explode from below her naval, her gut, and her throat – the places she'd been shot. She cried out and felt a hoof throw around her back, pulling her away from the edge of the bed.
A broken voice cried at her in some cross of a reprimand and plea, “NO! I'm not going to lose you, too! Please, just stay in bed or you'll end up like her!”
As the pain echoed through Pinkie's body, the room started spinning around her. She felt like gravity might fling her out of bed entirely, if it weren't for Astilbe's hoof holding her down.
“I – you can't go home now, I'm sorry. I screwed up. But I'm not doing that again! I shouldn't have let her go and I'm not letting you go, either! There's – there's a place far away that's safe. You'll – you'll have to go there...” she started to regain some composure. “My friends and I can get Applejack. Then we'll find out how to get you both to Bastion. But Equestria...”
Her eyes took on a distant look. “It's gone. It's gone forever, because...” Pinkie could see the fresh wave of tears spring up. “Because I screwed up, and now Equestria is lost forever!” She collapsed back into the pillows, sobbing uncontrollably.
Pinkie looked down at her pink friend crying next to her. The pony who had yesterday told them, without losing any composure, that she was sure she'd die horribly one day, was now sobbing uncontrollably. In the middle of all the darkness and chaos that descended around the edge's of Pinkie's dizzy vision, was her sobbing friend. A familiar face, doing a familiar thing.
Anger beckoned her. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation and what to do if she couldn't get Applejack or rescue Twilight. Atilbe had kept a terrible secret from her – had let her friend go off without her to die, and now she was helpless in bed to do anything about it. She'd betrayed their trust – but then again, it was Twilight's idea, she said. And she knew Twilight would try to rescue Rarity by herself. She'd said it plainly yesterday.
But she hadn't told her when she left. And Astilbe was still the one who betrayed her and allowed her friend to be captured, and now she was powerless to save her. Yet she was also the pony who sheltered her, gave her a bed to lie in, food and drink, and took care of her. At the risk of her own life, she'd nursed her back to health and protected her from a world that wanted to kill her. She was some copy of herself, even.
And yet something in her demanded fury at her rescuer – someone to blame for the sudden shock as the world tumbled around her, and her only hope for getting home was now locked in some dungeon awaiting death.
And there she sat, crying next to her.
She teetered in-between yelling at her and comforting her, the confusion only making the world spin more. Then all at once, she knew what to do. Amid the churning chaos around her, she was a familiar pony, doing a familiar thing she'd seen her friends do, and she'd responded the same way every time.
She'd decided what to do a long time ago, when she had done it so often that it'd become a habit.
She did what she'd always done for her crying friends. She knew what mattered to her most even as everything around her fell apart. She patted her friend's back, and the room stopped spinning, and once again, the darkness that surrounded her was nothing more than an ill-lit room.
Astilbe looked back up at her. “Y-you aren't mad at me?”
Pinkie pursed her lips, and despite the sore pains that jabbed at her as she moved, she hugged Astilbe without answering with a word.
She felt a hoof reach around her back and return the hug. “Thanks, Pinkie. I... I know it's what Rarity and Twilight would've wanted. I don't know how she meant to get you two home, but I know she meant to. I'll – I'll see if there's anything we can do, but... There won't be, Pinkie. She's gone. I'm so sorry!” She lost control of her breathing again.
Pinkie felt her body jerk in her hooves with every sob.
She remembered how wide-eyed and excited this pony had been as they'd told her about Equestria and Celestia, how she had revered Twilight's magic in awe – and now that was all gone.
Despite the painful stabs across her body, she just patted her friend's back, and assured her, “I – I know we'll find a way. Even if we don't see it now, we've always found a way to pull through, and we'll do it this time, too!”
As Twilight hung, her mind swam in a dark abyss. Part of her weight was held up by the sloped concrete wall she laid across, but the rest hung from sore, swollen hooves in metal shackles anchored directly into the wall. There was nothing to do but to think and listen, and the guards were expert at staying silent, so there was little to listen for.
She had decided the encounter with the robed unicorn had happened. Her hooves had felt better for awhile, and her body felt refreshed. Her stomach grew only more painfully hungry, but she was no longer so terribly thirsty.
In the hours that followed, though, she sank back into the depths of her mind, finally resting in something between sleep and wakefulness in her exhaustion.
She felt a fresh spark of life when she heard distant hoofsteps – this time, shoes and boots – it sounded like a guard change, except a pair of heels and rolling wheels were mixed in.
She winced at the sound, remembering her interrogator from before.
But the wheels were different – it sounded much heavier, like a freight dolly instead of a cart.
The Rainbow Dash voice came in from far away. “Summit Guard, you're temporarily relieved of this watch. Standby for further orders just outside the bunker behind me. This event is not happening, you are not to speak of this to anyone.”
She heard bootsteps as guards moved around. Normally they confirm when they're given orders, don't they? Where's the 'yes m'am'?
Two more sets of boots and a set of heels approached her, before she felt hooves reach up and remove her blindfold, but not her gag.
As with when the unicorn had removed it, it took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and a few blinks before they were focused enough to see at all. Despite her bleary vision, she immediately recognized – the pony who had Rainbow's voice was Rainbow. Though she'd bleached her hair to a uniform light blue and styled it, she still recognized her face, eyes and what of her body wasn't hidden by her navy dress.
A pegasus stood behind and on each side of her. The blue pegasus stallion to her right was well-decorated. She recognized him as a face from the Wonderbolts in Equestria, but couldn't place the name. Between the two guards, they rolled a plain metal box – it was just large enough to carry a body.
She started shaking, again painfully aware of the rope loosely around her neck, remembering what it felt like when the pony with Dash's voice had tightened it. I – already!? Are you here to – did they drag Rarity out to the gallows in her coffin like this, or are you just going to - !?
No, I just – I had just decided not to give up! Give me more time – something will happen! I'll get rescued, I'll find a way out!
She cried out into her gag.
“Alright, unicorn,” Rainbow's lookalike started, “you get the special privilege of living. If you cooperate with us, we'll even make your life reasonably livable if we're satisfied with your cooperation.”
She gasped and tears came to her eyes.
It felt too good to be true – after all they'd done to her, why the sudden change? Did they tell Rarity this before they had her executed? Why did you bring the coffin, then?
She continued, “just remember no matter how bad it may seem, if we don't like what you do, we can make it a lot worse. Would be really unpleasant to have your wings hacksawed off, wouldn't it? But that's foal's play compared to what else we can do. And also remember if you play well, we'll reward you with some nice little accommodations. So you game for something a little more interesting, or do you want to hang there until they come to drag you out to be publicly tortured and executed in ways you can't – and don't want to imagine? Just a nod will do. Or, of course, you could shake your head and we'll leave you for them to come back and have you tortured to death to the pleasure of a jeering crowd in something way worse than our little session earlier.” The pegasus looked up at her expectantly.
They – with what they did to Rarity... What choice do I have? They're in total control of me right now, either way, so why do they even ask? But if they're promising life – I'll have a much harder time escaping if I'm dead... But...
She looked at the coffin-like box and tried asking what it was for, but her speech was incomprehensible through the gag. Even if they could make out her words, they completely ignored her attempt to speak.
After a few moments, she slowly and reluctantly nodded. Afraid to agree to anything they offered, but knowing it made little difference, anyways.
“Good,” the governor replied, then one of the pegasi escorts lifted the lid off the box. Inside were thick wool blankets and a towel bundled with something inside.
He opened the towel, revealing some biscuits, a medicine bottle and a pouch of some liquid, while the governor pulled Twilight's gag down. “Not a word, we're not here to answer questions. We're going to sneak you out in that box. I've overseen the logistics of it myself, and the guards here know better than to ask questions when the Royal Guard carries something through. You're going to spend up to two to three days in there, though it'll pass quickly with something we'll give you.”
It was oddly easy not to talk. In such a strange situation the questions were too many to choose from, and talking felt like crossing some barrier she was as restrained behind as she was bound to the wall.
The governor took the medicine bottle and put two pills in Twilight's mouth, then pressed the spout of the water pouch against her lips.
Make days in that coffin pass quickly? But then I can't - Her mind raced to try to think of some way she could find a way to escape from inside the box.
"Drink," the governor harshly commanded, giving the rope around her neck a small tug.
She drank, swallowing the pills.
The governor removed the bottle and put a biscuit up to the prisoner's mouth. “Eat. You may not have another chance for days.”
Her starving stomach made her wolf it down as it was fed to her. The governor fed her more than a few large ones, until there was nothing left. It was bland and tasteless, but it was food. She then put the spout of the water bag into Twilight's mouth again. They didn't have to compel her to drink all of it this time. When she finally did, they replaced her gag.
“If you need to relieve yourself, now's the time,” the governor tapped a bucket left underneath the prisoner.
Twilight shook her head. Thank Celestia I don't feel like it right now. But I wish being embarrassed was even something I could bother to worry about at this point. The mare guard took the cloth towel the food had been in, put it up to Twilight's waist, and tied it on her, diapering her with it. The alicorn looked at the governor again.
“Try not to use it. Bowels can wait days, but bladders can't and wet blankets would make you freeze to death, so try not to die on us.”
Sometimes, you don't need to speak to be able to ask a question. I just wish I would've thought of something more useful to ask... Freeze to death? Where are they taking me, anyways? Why not just throw me in some proper cell!? Why all this ridiculous, excessive nonsense all the time!? She groaned, then tensed as the mare guard reached to the rope around her neck.
The loop started pulling up, but instead of tightening enough to choke her, she instead heard some metal wheel spin, then the rope fall loose as the guard took it off of her entirely.
But just as she breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed, the guard reached for her restraints. Twilight yalped as her sensitive, swollen hind hooves were grabbed and handled.
They were again excessive – the pegasus stallion always held her against the wall, even though they only freed one back leg, then strapped her back legs together, and only then released her other back leg from the metal restraint. Then they did the same for her forelegs, then strapped them to her body, the whole time not letting her make even the slightest move under her own power.
The governor commented as they finished, “We know about all your tricks and enchantments. We don't intend to give you any chance to use any of them.”
They lifted her, and placed her in the coffin-sized box. The wool blankets were warm and incredibly soft, a celestial comfort after lying against concrete and hanging from her hooves for so long. Even the belted canvas straps that bound her were a welcome relief from the metal. And yet, her heart raced as she anticipated the moment they'd close the coffin's lid over her again.
Rainbow Dash's doppleganger stepped over her, speaking quietly. “Oh, calm down, alicorn, we're not killing you. This is the best possible thing that could happen to you. You might even get your life back. Just keep quiet in that box and you might just survive. And one more thing, between you and me...” she leaned down and whispered in her ear, “That body you found wasn't your friend. She might still be alive out there. So be quiet in the box, survive all this, and who knows, maybe you'll even get to see that unicorn again.”
Twilight's body stiffened, her heart froze, and her eyes widened.
Rarity... is alive!?
Then the blankets wrapped over on top of her, and the box was closed.
Tears welled in her eyes for an entirely different reason now, and she did her best to stay quiet.
She was so excited, so relieved, she didn't even consider that the governor might have lied about anything.
Rarity sat up in a sleeping bag, coughing violently. Her eyes watered and stung. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision at the same time her body heaved uncontrollably. She felt a warm body beside her and a hoof patting her back. Every breath she took to cough or heave caused another wave of agony that made her chest burn and forced her to wretch even more.
After a wretched minute that felt as horrible as it sounded, she could finally start blinking enough tears out of her eyes to see. Her breath was still raspy and pained, and her throat scratched and sore under her warm fire ruby, but the coughing finally stopped. As it did, she felt an intense, pinching pain on her right forehoof, and something wrapping it as well.
Somepony had been holding some cloth in front of her mouth to catch the black, red and silvery phlegm she'd been coughing up. She closed her eyes and averted her sight from the disgusting mess to keep from throwing up.
Her cloak and socks were gone. She felt her fire ruby across her chest, a thick, wooly and wet but warm sleeping bag from her waist down, and a towel tied around her waist like a loincloth or diaper. Some pegasus was sitting next to her, helping hold her up.
Am I camping? Did I wet my sleeping bag?! It smelled more like sweat, and the towel didn't feel thoroughly soaked – only damp like the sleeping bag. Then she stiffened as she remembered what'd happened to her last.
Did I die and wake up as a foal?!
If this is what they feel like no wonder they cry so much... She quickly brushed the wild question away as she heard the pony holding her. “Oh, you're doing so well, we're so glad to have you around,” a sweet, gentle, feminine voice chimed, wiping her cold sweat away with a rag. “You're safe here, and oh so lucky to be alive!”
There was something strange about her voice she couldn't place – like an odd echo, or a mirage but of sound. Something nagged her about it, but she hardly had time to think of it. She looked at the mare, but saw only a blurry smudge as she continued to blink clear her watery eyes.
“Y-yes, but who are-” Rarity croaked as she tried rubbing her eyes, but broke into another fit of coughing.
“Take it easy, miss. You've been through a lot.” She felt the hoof pat her back gently as the cloth re-appeared in her vision. The voice had the strange effect again.
After the coughing ended and the mare pulled the cloth away again, she finally rubbed her vision clear with the back of her left hoof. Looking down, she saw her pained right hoof was bandaged. She looked to her side to see the pony helping her.
“Nurse Redheart?” she asked, using a much gentler voice this time. Her throat held. Weren't you an Earth Pony?
"No,” she shook her head, “I'm Gratitude, Private First Class, Adherent medic. We're here to help.” Her voice still had the strange effect. Rarity listened to it more intently – it really struck hard when she'd said her name.
She looked forward to check her surroundings. She was in a tent barely tall enough to sit up in. A tiny lantern hung next to her head, providing a gentle, warm glow. Most of the floor was taken with thick blankets and warm clothing, some bags of supplies, and two rifles sat along the edges
As she looked to her right, she saw out of the corner of her eye that a stallion in some plain pants and shirt sat a yard behind her. But a small, white unicorn to her right grabbed her attention with a curly, blush pink and periwinkle purple mane. She looked at her, wide-eyed, taking a solid second to believe her own eyes as she looked at the young mare's olive green eyes. She was at least a decade older than she remembered, and she – as well as everypony else in the tent – was unusually thick-furred, but she definitely looked just like her.
“This is Sergeant Courageous Fate,” Gratitude continued, pointing to the stallion sitting at the end of the tent. The strange effect with her voice hit especially hard on the name. “And this is -”
Rarity felt her heart freeze. “S-Sweetie Belle!?”
The young mare who looked like her sister spoke up with Sweetie Belle's familiar voice, “That – that sounds like a name. But that's not my name,” - she shook her head - “but – are you not Grandeur, then?” she asked. “But you look just like her! But she also didn't speak Delphinian...”
Her voice had the strange effect as well – and that's when she realized what the effect was – she had never before heard a word they were saying, but she somehow knew the language they were speaking.
But her determination to identify the filly would hardly be delayed by something as petty as a linguistic spell. “I – I may describe myself as, ahem” - she cleared her throat, fighting back more coughs - “grand, but my name is Rarity,” she explained, her voice shaky, raspy and broken. Her expression was uncertain. She sat on a tipping point in-between disbelief and desperation for her sister to be alive.
It didn't sound like she was calling me by a pet name – and this can't possibly be Equestria, still, is it? So why would she be here? But there's Nurse Redheart! Or, some pegasus version of her... Her confusion deepened.
“I'm sorry, it's just – you look just like an older sister I had. I thought maybe you were her...” Even as the filly's ears flopped down, Rarity's face lit up.
The fog of surreality was blown away by excitement. She recognizes me! It must be her!
“I am your older sister!” Rarity cried. She couldn't keep herself from coughing a little more, but she didn't let it interrupt her lunge forward – she grabbed her younger sister in an embrace, tears welling in her eyes more plentifully than the ones that had blinded her earlier. She squeezed her younger sister, her sobs interrupted by coughs, while both kept her from speaking.
The confused filly stiffened for a second, then relaxed and returned the hug just as enthusiastically.
“Oh – uh, careful with the hoof,” the medic gave a little warning. “And try not to over-excite yourself, please.”
“I don't get it. You two are huggin' because you look like sisters you lost?” The stallion said.
Neither stabbing pain in her hoof, linguistic mystery, nor cynical mocking would take this moment away from her. She simply continued to hold Sweetie Belle and cry, rocking her side to side in the embrace, ever so slightly.
“I... also hope they're not just mistaken...” Gratitude carefully added to the stallion's remark.
The tent was cramped enough that there was hardly room for their bodies, never mind any privacy, so the stallion looked off to the side for the sake of their guest in a towel. With their words said, he and the medic felt no need to comment further, even as the embrace lasted.
“D-do you still know the -” Rarity was interrupted by another small batch of coughs.
The medic again held the cloth in front of her mouth for her, folded so past filth was hidden. “Oh, I'm glad you're happy, but I don't know if the excitement is good for you right now, you should take it easy if you can. We'll still be here when our sleep shift is over...”
The fit of coughs escelated until Rarity could hardly breathe, all the while Gratitide patted her back.
Sweetie Belle pulled away to look at her and listen, but still kept a foreleg on Rarity's shoulder. “Do I still know the what...?” she hesitantly asked.
Gratitude shot her a look.
Finally, the coughs subsided. “- the song?” Rarity finally finished croaking.
“What song, Grandeur? Oh I just love to say your name again!” Sweetie's voice was the same one she knew, but also deeper than Rarity remembered it, but it still broke and squealed in her moment of excitement as she gave her sort-of older sister another quick hug.
Rarity spoke gently, “Over the Rainbow... I'm... not Grandeur. And why... calling yourself Snowglade?” She paused, and her eyes went wide as she realized why the names might be off.
“I've never heard that song – and, you said that, but how do you recognize me if you're not Grandeur/Marsa?” Sweetie's confusion deepened.
As Rarity listened intently, she noticed she could even hear the word she didn't know – Marsa. The word meant 'beautiful majesty', and used as a name, made her think 'Grandeur'. But how are they understanding me, then? Did my comment about calling myself 'grand' not even make sense to them? “Uhm...” she paused, putting her good hoof to her throat and soothing it. “Speaking... different languages?” she asked.
“Yep.” Sergeant Courageous answered. “It's magic. Just don't take that necklace off. That's two things that aren't getting off your chest. And don't break it. Only a few exist. From The Abbess of The Adherents, herself.”
She looked down at her neckwear. She hadn't even felt a sapphire necklace sitting over her fire ruby peytral. How many different spells am I under, now? Shifting her focus away from her many pains, she started to sense just how much magic filled the area. She got the impression that there were multiple spells effecting not just her, but the area around her, and more than a few strongly-enchanted items.
He continued, “We'd be happy to explain more, miss Rarity, just as soon as we hear how in the world you wound up with a fire ruby, half-naked, somehow still alive in the downwind of Delphi, years after you vanished hundreds of miles from here.”
She shifted uncomfortably in the damp sleeping bag, wishing she could hide under all the blankets covering the floor from his piercing eyes. And I'd like to know why I'm wearing a towel – loincloth – diaper – THING – and everypony else gets decent clothes! On the other hoof, maybe I don't want to know...
Gratitude was still helping her sit up, and gave her back another pat-pat. “Now, sergeant, I'm not so sure she's ready for that. Whatever happened must have been awful, maybe we should explain ourselves a bit more, first...”
Rarity put a hoof on her warm fire ruby as she cleared her throat. Her airways still burned and stung like a hundred fresh cuts, and her chest felt little better. And this hard metal surface against my neck can't be helping... Without a thought, she started unclipping the peytral with her magic, preparing to slip it out from under the translating necklace. “Well –”
"Wait -!" "Stop -!" Both Gratitude and Snowglade objected, but it was too late, and the peytral was no longer touching Rarity's chest.
She was cut off by sharp gagging as she felt her lungs, throat, eyes, snout – every sensitive part of her body struck by an unbearable stabbing pain and burning, causing her to writhe in agony.
“Medic!” The sergeant snapped.
“Grandeur!” Sweetie Belle cried, springing up and leaning towards her, putting a hoof back over her shoulder.
Rarity's eyes were wide in shock as she struggled and failed to breathe.
Gratitude quickly caught her with one hoof and the fire ruby with the other and put it back on her.
The pain was instantly numbed again. She took sharp, raspy gasps and massaged her throat with a hoof. The other, bandaged hoof stung and curled around the foreleg Gratitude held the Peytral on with. Her pupils were still shrunken as she shook and her heart raced madly.
“Kind of you to demonstrate, but don't go dyin' on us,” the sergeant commented with relief.
The medic's voice was heavy with worry. “That fire ruby really must be how you survived out in Delphi's downwind. Are you alright? Can you breathe fine, now? Do you feel like you're getting enough air?”
“I – It burns...” Rarity whimpered, her ears folding down.
“I'm sorry, sweetie. But you don't feel like you can't get enough air, do you?”
Rarity shook her head.
“And the dizziness is going away?”
She nodded.
“Can you still see alright?”
She nodded again, still taking shaky, deep breaths as her heart raced.
“Then it'll be alright. Where did you get enchantments like this?” she asked, then quickly added, “We'll be sure to make sure it can work on you! We'd be honored to save a unicorn who needed us – never mind Snowglade's sister! Rarity – Grandeur, whichever it is, you're safe here.” She rubbed her back with the hoof that had clipped the peytral back on.
Rarity's irises relaxed, her wide-eyed shock at the sudden spasm of torment subsiding. But she was still shaking, and it could be heard in her scratched voice. She used words sparingly, often stopping to rest her throat, “I – a dear friend gave it... somewhere far away. I – I still don't... where am I?” She turned to the filly, “Sweetie Belle? Just – just by... another name? But... don't remember... I – I just don't... I can't...” her eyes were no longer looking at anything in particular.
The medic patted her back, pulling her over a little to let Rarity lean on her, “Confusion is a normal effect from smoke inhalation. Never mind all the other fumes in the downwind. It'll clear up soon. And then maybe when your throat's better you can tell us more about how you got here. It's okay, miss, it's okay, it's been an emotional roller coaster since you woke up, with pain, reunion, confusion – just take it easy.”
“Miss Rarity,” the stallion's voice addressed her again, strong and confident. “Do you even know what a downwind of a dome is?” he asked.
She hesitantly shook her head.
He continued, “I don't know what you know about the domes, so let me explain. They're mountain-sized magical barriers that keep the area warm, and let all kinds of filth out but not in. Naturally, the cities inside dump all their industrial fumes and waste across the barrier since it keeps it out, so when the smoke falls back down, the area downwind of and around a dome is full of very toxic smoke and fumes. That's the only reason you weren't found by Vanguard patrols. It's thick and ponies can't see in it, even with search lights. Fortunately, you were very far from the dome, and I guess your gem kept you alive.
“Now, we have tasks before us, and we're not going to abandon them just because you're with us. However, we're in a dangerous place, and you need to do everything we say, and nothing else, understood? You eat, sleep, wake up, drink, relieve yourself, get dressed, get undressed, shut up or speak up – everything on our schedule and as we do. If we're quiet, you be quiet or you could get us all killed, got it? And if you ever hesitate to do what we tell you in the moment we tell you to do it, you could cost us all a lot more than our lives.”
Gratitude shot him a sharp look.
Rarity looked at him wide-eyed.
Snowglade just put a comforting hoof on her sister's side, “It – it's all true.” The injured mare looked at her sister. “I work with these ponies, Grandeur. You can trust us. But we really will do everything we can to keep you safe.”
“Do trust us,” the sergeant commanded, “and we'll get you back to Bastion. We're in need of every unicorn we can get, even if they're practically mute and got torn hooves, and especially if they can evade Delphi's air patrols.”
“O-ohkay.” Rarity nodded, her expression finally, but tentatively coming out of panic again. She looked at her bandaged hoof. Slivers of red stained through the bandages where it stung.
“Why don't we do this a bit more of the normal way?” the medic suggested as she started rummaging through a pack next to Rarity, producing a canteen. She held it up in front of their injured guest and Snowglade. “Snowglade, warming spell for our guest?”
“Right away.” Her horn lit up.
Rarity could sense the familiar aura of Sweetie Belle's magic. “I know... that magic!... Sweetie... Not Snowglade.” Ugh, I sound like an absolute barbarian. Or like somepony who's mentally challenged, or a prairie pony...
Sweetie finished casting her spell on the canteen.
“I – but I told you, my name is Snowglade. I – did something mess with your memories? Maybe that gem or the smoke –”
“No, no, we'll worry about your memories later. For now, please just drink up and try to relax a little.” Gratitude offered Rarity the drink. “It's a hard mental task and you're really badly hurt. I'm just glad you're still with us.”
At first, Rarity took a small, dainty sip – but quickly lost her composure as thirst overwhelmed her and her throat's pain, and it turned into a desperate chugging of the warm water. She finished, blushing a little. I... may have lost control there and drank quite a bit, and that may have been a bit unladylike, but speaking of bad manners... “I was dressed... differently.”
“You were black with soot. I didn't even recognize you at first!” Snowglade piped in. “Nopony even believed me at first when I said you were still–”
“We're all just very lucky you survived. What we have on our hooves is a little miracle,” the medic cut off the filly again, markedly interrupting what was sure to be a disturbing description. “Your old clothes are in one of these bags. We didn't have the time or water to wash them, but the socks may be useful once we get the toxins out.”
“Toxins?” she asked, worry edging into her voice.
“Oh, yes...” Gratitude continued carefully. “The downwinds have some very nasty things in them. I really had to wash you off, and Snowglade made a heroic effort exhausting herself with warming spells so I could. But as soon as we could put you in the tent without contaminating it, we did.”
“And...” Rarity shuffled her back legs around, feeling the damp towel again. Maybe I don't want to know...
“Oh, I wasn't sure about your state – but more than that, I thought you'd be sweating those toxins out and getting them on anything you touch, and you did sweat very profusely while you were unconscious. Whatever clothes you're wearing now might be ruined, and we could do away with one of our two towels, but we don't have many clothes to spare.”
“Oh.” Rarity paused. “I'm literally toxic? I hugged Snowglade!” The fatigue on her throat was becoming unbearable, but she asked about her sister, anyways, but immediately felt the consequences. She fought to keep from coughing again, knowing the pain from a cough would drive her to cough even more.
“You might not have sweated it out... You sweated, but the ruby could also take care of it magically or send it to your kidneys – another reason I toweled you – but I honestly didn't know what it'd do. But it looked like you were coughing it out just now.” She gently let Rarity's hoof down, freeing a hoof to grab and look at the rag she'd let her patient cough into. “And even if you were sweating it out – that's why I was wiping your sweat off. Snowglade will be fine. It'd take a lot more than one touch to be very dangerous, anyways. And yeah – looking at the rag again, you're definitely coughing it out. Though maybe that's just what settled in your lungs...” She put the rag back away.
Gratitude continued, “But that friend of yours must be a great wizard. That's some very high-level magic, detoxifying you like that. Maybe even rivaling the translator necklace. As for your hoof, it took a really bad hit, and it looks like you kept running on it, after. That's bad. But maybe me and Snowglade can figure out a way to get the Fire Ruby to heal you, too, if the hoof injury ends up being a serious danger to the safety of the team by slowing us down too much.” Her expression switched to a sympathetic one again. “But I'm just glad you managed to make it out. The hoof is in bad shape, but you'd be in far worse shape if you didn't escape from The Vanguard...”
Rarity looked at her bandaged hoof again. It was a dull, throbbing sort pain now, but very strong. She didn't dare unwrap it to take a look. It was hard to distract herself, but she found as long as she was trying to make sense of the confusing world around her it hurt a little less.
“Anyways,” the medic continued, “We should probably get back to sleep. Let the ruby work more and those wounds heal. I'll get you some vegetable soup. You two can get back to sleep.” She nodded to Snowglade and the Sergeant.
“If my ponies are up, I'm up,” he answered.
“I – it's just for soup, right? I don't think I'll be falling asleep while she's awake – I get to finally talk to her again!” Snowglade replied. “...even if she can't talk very much right now... Just being around her – now that I know it's her! - is enough for me.”
Gratitude spoke as she reached in one of the many bags scattered about the edges of the tent, “Well, I'm as eager as everypony else to know how Grand– our guest got here, and what she remembers. But I think we're best off waiting until tomorrow when she's had some time to recover and think more clearly.” She produced a tiny can and a bowl, poured the can in, and began adding some water from a compartment in the bottom of the lantern. “Until then, I imagine you're in need of something to eat, drink – and to relieve yourself. I'll take you through how we handle that out here on the ice sheets. But if you can wait a minute for that, I'd like to get you some penicillin in case something somehow survived all those toxins and could start an infection, and I imagine you'd really like the soup, first.”
“Mmm”, she happily moaned an agreement. There were so many different pains across her body she could hardly recognize it, but since Gratitude poured the can, hunger had taken a front seat. “Perhaps... you explain... while I eat?” she asked. Like explain where we are, what you all are doing – and what that 'Bastion' place is?
Saying you're a medic, a sergeant and 'Snowglade' really doesn't tell me 'who' you are... Her throat hurt too badly, so at first she left her words at a bare, unexplained minimum. But she couldn't help but add, “Bastion?”
Gratitude gave her the bowl of soup, two pills and a spoon. "Those little things will help keep you from getting horrible diseases," the medic explained.
Rarity took them in her magic, took the pills and washed them down with the broth. Despite how much it scratched her throat to swallow, the hot, delicious vegetable soup felt like nothing short of a miracle in her world of pain.
As she ate, Gratitude explained, “Bastion is –" she glanced back at the sergeant, who was looking straight at her, "-it's a place we'll take you when we're done with our tasks. Assuming your health doesn't get worse. But from what Snowglade could tell, the ruby feeds off a reservoir of stored magic, not just your own, and the reservoir looked like it had a few weeks left on it. But if your health does decay... Maybe I could-” she stopped, thinking carefully for a moment before continuing, "... go back with you, while the rest of my team finishes their... tasks. Anyways, we're Ceruleans. That's what ponies from Bastion are called – or, ponies who seek to bring the Cerulean Skies once more, through harmony. Who believe Clover the Clever's journal, and adhere to it to some degree or other."
"Belle?" Rarity asked, looking at the young mare.
"Yep, I joined them. They're the ones who saved our town/shard-state, after all..." Snowglade's voice filled with emotion, "I was inspired by what a hero you were and... I wanted to keep things like that from happening to other towns on the ice sheets/shard-states."
Oh no. She thinks... I was a hero? she gave her a worried, sad look. How do I tell her that wasn't me?
"Did I... do something wrong?" Snowglade asked, mirroring some of Rarity's expression.
The older mare vigorously shook her head. "I just... I didn't..." her throat felt much better after the soup, but she still hesitated.
Gratitude interrupted, “Let's not worry about that, for now. You may still be confused from the fumes, injury, shock, even shell-shock, given your injuries... But once your throat and mind have had some more magic and rest, you can tell us a bit more about how you got here, because as the sergeant said, we're dying to know.”
Rarity felt her ears lower a little. She did feel the fog in her mind, but doubted the morning would make it any easier to explain that she wasn't Grandeur. But as she looked down at the warm soup Gratitude had given her, she realized she'd forgotten to say something. She didn't like the idea of being undressed, washed, diapered - or toweled - and put in a sleeping bag, all while unconscious. But as she saw Snowglade and felt hope for Sweetie Belle flicker again in her chest, she liked the alternative to being treated far worse. So she looked back up at the Redheart-pegasus-lookalike, and gently said, "thank you. For everything."
Gratitude smiled and her eyes shimmered. "You're welcome. This is what I'm here for. And thank you for staying with us. It looked hard, and it's not fully over yet, but it'll be worth it, I promise."
It was hard for Rarity to sleep in a weird undergarment, and knowing, even if it was a small chance, that she might be lying in a cocoon of poison she'd sweated out. To say nothing of the bathroom experience being easily the worst of her life since foalhood. All the while, dull, throbbing pain gave her hoof and throat no respite. But they were all dwarfed by the terror of what she'd just lived through. She wasn't sure how long, if ever, until she could feel safe again.
But one thing made it all worth it: Her sister was there. And not only was she there, but she had slept right next to her. Above being lost, the injuries, the traumatic experiences, and what felt like solid rock under the mat and blankets, it was the one thing that calmed her enough to sleep despite everything, and the one thing that stood out clearly through the thick haze of confusion she sat in: She got to rest next to her living sister.
Then morning had come painfully soon, and Sweetie Belle, or “Snowglade” roused her from her sleep.
There was still no hint of sunlight through the tent walls, but she was eager to get outside and feel the warm sun again, sure it was just waiting outside. The dreary horror show of ice she'd seen before being rescued was sure to sparkle like crystal under the sun and bring some joy back to match the reunion with her sister. She couldn't wait for the bright reminder that the nightmare was over.
She awoke without any sweat, so Gratitude finally let her borrow some proper garments, and explained how they layered clothes so as to keep warm.
As a few bowls of soup were prepared for everypony, she finally began to recall where she came from. There was hardly room for them to move much, but all eyes were on her as she finally began to explain.
Her mind felt far more clear than last night, as the medic had promised, and even better, her throat felt supernaturally better. She couldn't help but love the fire ruby. Her throat went from slightly bleeding last night to little more than an ache by now, so she could finally speak.
“Well, it all started when we agreed to go to a recital together, Snowglade,” she respectfully used the name she'd asked to be called by. “That's why I'm so surprised you don't remember the song – Over the Rainbow. We practiced it together for months! I – I guess I really don't know exactly what that book did, but... Well, I was a terrible sister, I put my fashion design first and lost what was truly most important in my life.” She gave her sister a quick, little hug. “No, I didn't make it to that recital, so in the middle of the night you left my boutique in a fit of anger, and the next day we found...” her voice tapered off and her look went distant.
She looked at her sister again, who just looked confused, trying to digest what was said. Something in her mind just refused to step beyond that. It was like a mental brick wall, so she moved around it.
“You – we were sure you were dead, so I told Mom and Dad you were. Then – in my own fit of... Well, I was a bit upset, and I destroyed the machine that did that to you – I!” She gasped. “My goodness, I destroyed Besty – the sewing machine I've had since I was a foal. The one I earned my cutie mark with!” She put a hoof to her mouth and her eyes watered a little.
Gratitude gasped. “Wait – that was a cutie mark!?”
Rarity's shock of realization quickly died away as she noticed Sweetie Belle's concerned look. She ignored Gratitude's comment just for a moment. “But no matter, I got the one truly irreplacable part of my life back.” She put a hoof over Snowglade's shoulder and gave her a little hug before turning to answer the medic's question, “Of course it was. Uhm – why wouldn't it be? Come to think of it, I haven't seen the cutie marks of any pony here, what with all these thermal underwears you wear...”
“The heck's a cutie mark?” The sergeant asked.
Gratitude answered both of them, “actually these are sleep shorts. Anyways, didn't they teach you about cutie marks at school, sergeant? I learned a bit more about them, too, during my time at the abbey studying medicine. It's a mark you got on your flank directing you towards what you find most fulfilling and defining in your life, usually a great skill that you love and the world needed. They stopped happening in the third century. But if that's actually what that was, how did you get one? When did you get it!? Wait, no – first, what does it mean? There were three sapphires, right?” excitement sprouted in her voice.
“Uh – yes. Actually they're diamonds. They reflect beauty, and how I like to make ponies absolutely sparkle!” she held her hooves under her chin, her eyes glistening for a brief moment, before her expression was replaced with confusion. “But really, I must ask, none of you have one?”
“Nope. Nothin' on this butt,” the sergeant simply stated.
“Eh, thighs, more like,” the medic corrected.
“Close enough.”
“I just – I can't believe I actually got to see one, then!” Gratitude's eyes glistened with excitement.
“Okay, now you're just gettin' weird,” the seargent deadpanned.
“So, where have you been? Where did you get a cutie mark?” the little sister pressed.
Everypony was even more eager than ever to hear her next response.
“Equestria, of course.”
“What!?” all three replied with shock.
“What?” she asked, a bit of a whine in her voice as her grasp on the situation slipped away.
“The unified kingdom from before The Great Winters – are you a time traveler or something? Did you re-discover Starswirl's lost spells!? That – that'd explain everything!” The Nurse eagerly threw in.
“Am I?” Rarity echoed. She thought back over what had led her to this point – Discord, and the book Twilight had gotten the day after that conversation on her alicorn longevity. “So, if you've heard of Equestria, then surely you've heard of Celestia? And Luna? What about Twilight Sparkle? The Elements of Harmony, perhaps?” she unabashedly added the last one, wondering if she'd somehow appear in their history books as Twilight had proclaimed they would.
“Celestia and Luna, yes. All the others, no. Something about a civil war and becoming suicidal after killing her sister,” the Sergeant recited. “Seems like Gratitude seems to know all about this, though.” He nodded towards her.
She expanded on what the sergeant had said, “Uh, yeah. Suicide is the leading theory. Murder or natural death is another. And more fringey, maybe even still alive somewhere, but that's unlikely. Some think the Abbess herself is Celestia! But that's also unlikely, considering Celestia let her kingdom fall apart after she had to banish her sister, it's unlikely she would've had the resolve to survive The Great Autumns. The world population shrank to less than a tenth of what it was before in just a few years...” She put a hoof over one of her forelegs, looking down. “I'm not sure if I pity the ponies who died or the survivors more.”
She looked back up. “So, you're from Equestria? That's how it ended. Does that sound familiar?”
A grim soberness overtook Rarity. Her voice was soft and horrified. “I – that sounds awful. I'm from Equestria – did it really end that way? How long ago? I can't...” she looked down, as puzzled as horrified.
I put my hoof on the page of a book to get here. Is that what it was? One of Starswirl's spells or something? Discord didn't say anything about that... Did he? And would he? She struggled to remember. After all that'd happened, it was mostly a blur.
“A thousand years,” the Sergeant said. “A very nasty thousand years, at that. Personally, I think going that far back, it's mostly just legend. Heavens' knows ponies aren't good at keeping the truth. But maybe you got some of the true story with you.”
Gratitude said something about Celestia banishing her sister?
“Wait -” Rarity faced the medic, “did Luna turn into Nightmare Moon again?”
“Again? That – that's the only time as far as I know.”
“Then something isn't adding up...” Rarity started, “I don't think the culprit of this case is time travel! Either ponies have forgotten history from before my time, or it's something else and this isn't actually the future. But I'm not quite sure what since you all seem to know Equestria – by name, at least. But Sweetie Belle is here and recognized me, that must figure into this, somehow...”
“With all due respect, miss,” The seargent began, “this isn't some murder mystery. Ancient history is of little concern to me. Maybe whatever magic brought you here is something great and rare, so I'll up the priority on your safety, but what I really want to know is how you wound up in that downwind.” He took a loud sip from his soup as a cue. The others remembered their meal and began eating quickly while listening.
She mentally brushed the mystery away. I'm in his camp, and he saved my life, so the least I owe him is making things go smoothly, especially since what I do will probably reflect on my sister... “Oh, yes, uhm – where was I? I destroyed my sewing machine, right. You see, it kept me from you, Snowglade, or so I thought. Really, of course, it was just myself...” her voice took on a dark tone in the passing mention.
Snowglade gave her a worried look.
“It was my fault you died, you see! I – I should've been there for you!” Rarity finally broke out.
“What – what do you mean!?” the younger sister replied, then threw herself into her chest in a hug. “You saved my life, Grandeur! Our entire town – you saved us! Don't you remember? The Vanguard was coming, and there was the radio contact with Bastion, and the transport airplanes...”
Rarity's eyes went wide and her tongue caught.
She knew she wasn't Grandeur.
Whatever Grandeur had done, she did not deserve the credit. Yet some part of her mind clung on to the hope that she could avoid breaking Snowglade's heart – perhaps it was merely a lost memory, or perhaps she would still feel this way even if she knew she wasn't Grandeur.
But she couldn't keep from asking, “What... ever do you mean?”
“You... you don't remember that, either?” Tears welled in the filly's shocked eyes. “It's one thing to forget my name, and the language we spoke, but... but that?”
The sight immediately snapped Rarity out of whatever she felt. Last night she thought I was Grandeur, and I was sure she was Sweetie Belle. She looks just like her, though – perhaps a good bit older than I recall, but... It's not her, though, is it? If I'm not Grandeur, then she's not Sweetie Belle.
And I'm definitely not Grandeur. I don't remember saving some town here.
So she must be Snowglade.
“Oh no...” The medic quietly muttered, then continued more loudly to both of them, her wings flexing a little, “Ahem, well, before you two rush to any conclusions – you both recognized each other, remember? Does that not count for anything?”
The sergeant's voice came in firmly, “I suggest you two just can this whole issue for now. You recognized each other. Remember last night. Work out your memory problems when we get back to Bastion, but that's all it is. Some memory issue. It's the only way you could recognize each other like that.”
Something in Snowglade's eyes changed. She was strengthened in some way – the tears that welled seemed to dissipate.
But Rarity's vision was still blurred by them.
No, without her knowing the song we sang together, it's not her.
It may look like her – she may recognize me, and I may recognize her, but this is only skin deep. I won't be satisfied with this.
Discord could have made a puppet for me if all I wanted was a lookalike. This can't be what he meant. So she's still out there, and I can still somehow “save” her, perhaps by doing something grand in this book.
But Snowglade is a pony, too, and I'm right in here with her, feeling the same thing she is.
“Let me finish my story,” Rarity continued, her voice hard as steel, “I almost killed myself, but then I remembered and knew Sweetie Belle wouldn't have been angry at me, that she just wanted to sing with me, not die and have me commit suicide. Then a very ancient and powerful wizard, a friend of a friend, reminded me about a book.
“Twilight Sparkle is an alicorn friend of mine who was given some terrible but powerful ancient book by Celestia and Luna, themselves. I used that book, and it took me to that dreadful city that I ran out of, and that's where you all found me. But I read it because that ancient and powerful wizard friend-of-a-friend promised it would give me the ability to save my sister, Sweetie Belle. Maybe you're not Sweetie Belle, but you are some form of her – I know that for sure! And you deserve to have an older sister just as badly as – as I want Sweetie Belle back.
“I refuse to believe that Dis – that that friend of mine would totally lie to me, and whatever magic is in that book – I know for a fact it was tied to the destiny of my friend who was an immortal alicorn, so it is very, very powerful magic, and I believe it's powerful enough to give me back what he promised. So we're going to stick together – to be there for each other, and we'll both get our sisters back, okay? That's my promise to you, Snowglade.”
She used the name “Snowglade”, not thinking of it as some alternative title for Sweetie Belle, but as a different name altogether. “And that's how I'm going to make up for what I owe Sweetie Belle, by giving her – or some form of her – her sister back. Not Rarity, but Grandeur.”
“M'am,” the sergeant began again before the younger mare could answer, “that's damn impressive that you escaped Delphi, but can you not promise to bring back a dead sister of one of my soldiers when you are that sister?”
Rarity snapped, “And don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do for mysister!”
“Gotcha. You are her sister, just said so, yourself,” he calmly replied.
“But I'm not Grandeur!” Rarity objected.
“And why do you think that?” he asked.
“I don't have any of her memories!”
“You remember your sister, and she remembered you, so I'd say you do.”
She fumed, but he spoke up again before she could, “But you're right – you don't got all of them. And that's something you can work on when we're not hiding from a power that's hunting for our blood. Maybe you haven't met the locals yet – though your story and your injuries would suggest you got close enough to 'meet' them plenty – but they want to torture you and your sister to death horribly for entertainment, so I'd suggest putting priority number one as getting along with this team for now, and work on getting those memories back once you get to Bastion. As long as you agree to that, then we won't have an issue. Deal?” he offered.
“That's a damn good deal, sir,” Snowglade confirmed, then turned to her sister, “and I accept your promise, Rarity. Once you have your memories back, then I can call you Grandeur. We'll both get our sisters back.”
Rarity hesitated. That's not at all what I meant! But nonetheless, let's be diplomatic... She sighed.
The rifles still sat in the corner of the tent and her vision. Her hoof still throbbed. Her throat, mouth, and chest all still had a dull ache, and she wore the peytral with her fire ruby under her shirt, along with some powerful sapphire necklace that let her understand their language.
They were all constant reminders that she was in no position to force their hooves, and they had already been very generous to her. She'd rather forget suffocating in the smoke, or the mental image of herself caked in black soot, but she couldn't.
“Okay.” Yet part of her refused to agree without one extra assertion. “But I'm not totally convinced I even am Grandeur, but whatever is going on, let's work together to figure it out. And you all have – you saved my life, and I'm grateful for that, so I can continue my quest for Sweetie Belle. So I'll agree to your deal, Sergeant Courageous Fate. I'll do what you say until we get somewhere safe. Until then, lead on.”
The medic spoke, her voice soft and eager to help, “One more thing – you should go to the abbey when we take you back to Bastion. We'll help you there. There's great stores of magical knowledge with many experienced wizards who live to help.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Rarity answered.
“Whatever you do at Bastion is up to you,” the sergeant finalized. "But for now, as spectacular as wherever you came from or however incredible your journey here sounds, Grandeur, it won't matter any - whatever powerful magic you may know about will be lost if we're found and killed. So keeping us alive and achieving the tasks we've been assigned are priority number one to me. So just stick with us and do what we say when we say and absolutely nothing else, or you'll probably get injuries a lot worse than that hoof. And we say right now, we need to get dressed, pack up tent, and get underway. Snowglade, you're with me for another radio-check.” He started gathering some warm clothes that were spread around the sleeping bags.
Rarity looked to the medic. “What about my hoof? I'm... I'm still not feeling all too great. Do we really have to head out?”
“Absolutely,” she replied. “If you have difficulty walking with that hoof, I... Honestly I don't know what we'll do. We'll have to figure something out.”
A heavily armored train blew over the deep black abyss of ice. In the distance, enormous patrolling aircraft rumbled with their quad sets of engines, brilliant spotlights scouring the endless ice for prey.
Near the back of the train, Governor Full Spectrum stormed into her personal luxury car. Two servants were inside, one was filling a lamp with oil, and another fluffing a pillow. “Out! Get out!” The governor barked. They immediately fled.
She tracked the one with the lamp oil. “Why are you running away with the oil!? Is the lamp full?” she snapped at the unfortunate maid.
“N-no m'am,” came a fumbling reply.
“Then when I tell you to leave, leave the oil bottle so I can finish filling it. Now get out!” She held out a hoof. The maid set down the small bottle and scurried off.
Spectrum sighed. “Sorry.” She made no effort to make herself heard as she apologized to the departed servants. I'm normally never this mean to servants. Ugh. Just not my day.
She trotted back and finished filling the lamp. After setting the oil down on a small coffee table, she flopped onto a plush, luxurious red pillow. She listened to the hypnotizing, rhythmic clanking of the train tracks for a short, blissful while of losing herself in the soft pillows and mesmerizing music of the metal. She yawned and sat up again, slowly changing into a night gown.
The upshot of rail travel. All this time just to myself...
When she finished changing, she walked over to an intercom box and clicked it on. “Kitchen, bring me the finest bottle of red wine on this train.”
“Order on the way m'am!” the intercom crackled back.
She flopped back onto the pillow and rested her head on her forelegs. What a day. Rail delays, last-minute checks with Nightgale, and that miracle of a stunt with that unicorn – Twilight. Maybe Alicorn.
She quietly gloated to herself. Ah, yes. It's wonderful how oblivious the guards can be when they're not allowed to ask questions. Never mind the coffin-sized box. Never mind us hiding the unicorn behind curtains. I'm your governor, if I say the box is full of interrogation equipment, it's full of interrogation equipment, no questions allowed!
Then we change the guards out, tell them they're to pretend there's a unicorn, and anyone trying to piece the story together will have conflicting reports.
Damn that was stupid, though. If – no, when – when Icewind catches wind of that, I'm a dead pony. She's in on the executing lookalikes, but whisking away a real, captured unicorn? This is a whole new level of nonsense. Hopefully she'll believe the real alicorn died in captivity. What other conclusion could she draw?
Jewel's parting words echoed in her mind. Not that I'm not a dead pony, already. Didn't she say she'd work with somepony else? Maybe that's why I did it. What does it matter that Icewind finds out I'm hiding a unicorn at this point? I'm sure to die soon. At least I might answer my question, first, and find out if alicorns actually exist or not.
She closed her eyes, letting herself fall victim to the hypnotic trance of the train's clanking. She started with her ears, and worked down her entire body, probing each muscle for tension, then relaxing them as far as she could.
A knock on the door ripped her out of her rest.
“Wine, m'am?”
She groaned, got on her hooves, and walked over to the door. As her hoof grabbed the handle, she remembered how uncharacteristically rude she'd been to the maids. She opened the door and fired a quick; “Thankyou” grabbed the wine, and closed it again.
She froze as she realized she'd forgotten to grab the glass. Sighing, she decided she'd rather not approach the servant again, and after opening the bottle, took a sip straight from it as she walked back to the coffee table.
As she set the drink on the table, and her stomach on the pillow, she started thinking again.
Why aren't I more scared about my impending death? Do I not really believe it? Have I just always known and lived with the risk? No, I guess I've just seen so many executions I never thought maybe I'd be on the other end of them.
She took another sip and sighed.
Summer... To think the dead have it so regularly. And that at one point in our own history it came for months, every twelve. A warm sun, blue sky, and grassy fields.
She shook her head.
No, I've got too much to live for. I have to keep Sunfeather safe. I have to keep The Order of The Vanguard alive and strong. I don't trust Icewind in my place when I'm gone, or anyone else, for that matter.
She took another sip.
I have to use this chance to prove she's a fake in some way. I'll have to be careful how I go about this, though. But I need to prove those wings aren't hers, or they were made with some magic trick, or anything – anything but her being a true alicorn!
And if she is...
Instead of taking another modest sip, she took a large gulp, then set the bottle down as she flopped into an even more relaxed pose with another sigh.
But I can't make the citizens of The Order pay. I can't. I must be loyal to them. They don't deserve to pay for my own inadequacies, and my failures to do what I'm sworn to...
Since I was little, dad would tell me how he kept the ponies safe and warm against the cold outside. I saw how he held rallies full of ponies that adored him.
There was nopony like him. Nobody could match his heroism in my eyes. I've always known I wanted to do what he did, to hold the very world together.
I didn't fully understand what it meant when he told me that becoming a governor was a choice, and I would have to decide whether I wanted to feel good about myself, or if I wanted to serve The Order of the Hatten Vanguard and be the hero he had been.
Nothing could have prepared me. All those years where he gave me his time to teach me what he'd learned, how he taught me to be the best I could be. He kept teaching me how sometimes, doing what's right would involve doing things I would abhor. And he lost enthusiasm after awhile. In later years he even regretted encouraging me to become governor. He apologized every time I asked him to talk to me again, and begged me to change my course in life.
But how could I? After all those years, after adoring him so much for what he'd done, I wanted to be just like him. He would simply warn me that if I became a governor, ghosts would haunt me.
I should've listened. I never could've known what it would actually be like.
She groaned, and took another chug.
Why can't I stop thinking about this? Train rides are wonderful because they're a time to relax. A time apart from everything else. But I need to plan for the future. I can't just get myself drunk here...
I should just let it go. This is crazy, this is insane – I can make up for the alicorn being gone from the prison if I can show Icewind a body. So I'll make one. I already know Twilight's a unicorn, those wings are just some dumb show!
Because what if she's real, huh? Then all those ponies dead, because of the stricter policies...
She started to shake, picturing again the mass executions. The busy courtyards with their great gallows, turning prisoners into corpses with a sickly, mechanical efficiency. Yet it still wasn't enough for the sheer numbers of ponies arrested for the various forms of sedition, treason, consorting and cooperation with unicorns. No, what they had wasn't the truth, they HAD to be silenced! They were traitors who would've killed us all with their terrible ideas!
She looked up from the floor. Her gaze went far beyond the wall of her luxurious room. But then what does that mean? That it takes so much murder... So much death of stallions, mares, colts and fillies... Just to keep the world alive? Does such a world even deserve to live?
Tears welled in her eyes.
Is that it, then? Either the world is so horrible that exterminations are necessary, so it should end – or they weren't, and...
And all of that was for nothing?
She was startled by her next thought.
Celestia and Luna. The Stewardesses of this world. Rejected as our rulers. What kind of paradise could this world be if only we had allowed them to reign, as their parents intended?
That's one of the things the Ceruleans believe. It's in Clover the Clever's journal. That this world would see daylight once more, and the “princess of the sun” would return if we just stopped fighting. That would mean we really brought this on ourselves. And if the Windigos really do bring winter, as the Ceruleans claim, it all comes full circle and makes sense.
She looked upward.
Not only would it mean I didn't help ponykind survive the winter... It would mean I'm part of the cause of it.
She shivered at the thought, then cursed herself for having ever read the book – the very book which reading it is a capital offense... Maybe I do deserve the gallows.
She shook her head.
There's no way it's true, though! Just a lie spread by the Ceruleans to justify their overthrow of The Order. It's all just a lie to empower them...
She paused, looking at the bottle, and took another drink.
Maybe I should drink. Maybe then I'll have the strength to do what I should've done all along. If I can't think I can't stop myself from killing that wretched monster. That unicorn pretending to be an alicorn!
If I'm not safe then I can't protect Sunfeather. I didn't take her on this trip just to have her die. No, I'll kill the unicorn, have a body to show Icewind if she thinks I'm protecting a unicorn, and I'm staying on top of this political game to keep myself and her alive!
She took another drink.
Every step was agony. The ice was as hard as it was bitter cold. Every time Rarity put weight on her injured hoof, even through lots of soft padding, she groaned in pain and limped. She struggling to keep up with Snowglade who led in front of her – though in the deep darkness of the eternal night she had difficulty even seeing her at times, even though she was just a few yards ahead.
As they had put on the many warm layers of clothing, packed their tent and supplies and finally set out, she hadn't seen any of the Vanguard patrols that were supposedly hunting for them, but they assured her there was good reason they refused to use any lights. They had even chosen to “deploy” on this patrol during a new moon so the world was as dark as possible to hide them.
Looking up, she saw nothing but more darkness. No sunlight had been waiting outside the tent. A permanent veil of cloud and smog hid the heavens, meaning even the starlight was mostly shrouded away.
But ever onwards, she fought forward in her thick, burdensome winter gear. I haven't come this far to give up – they said they'd take me to some bastion. We just have to make it there. Now that she thought about it, she realized she had no idea what they were even doing out here – only that there was some “task” they said they still had to do. And how long until we get wherever you are going, anyways?
Again and again came the sharp, stabbing pangs with each step on her front-right hoof. The pain seemed to grow each time until her entire foreleg was buzzing with the feeling. I – I'll be strong for you, this time, Sweetie Belle. Maybe you're not Snowglade, but you're still here, somewhere, and surely, surely I can save you, right?
I'll be – I'll be wise enough this time. And strong enough, too! For you!
Despite every pained step, the thick winter clothing was some small comfort with its bulkiness. It had an odd kind of appeal. Rarity had never known a need for anything like it. A winter day in this world felt like a serrated blade of ice compared to Equestria's relatively mild chills.
She assumed she would've despised the warm clothing, since it came from a world she hated to be in. Yet, its plushness felt like a continual warm hug when contrasted with the unearthly frozen wasteland, and brutality of the ponies who had hunted her. It stood out like a bit of pink fabric against a dark blue dress.
And it was special, too. Whatever her mixed opinions of these ponies were, they had saved her life. They had nursed her back to health, and kept her warm and well. In comparison to what the ponies elsewhere had almost done, the sergeant's uncouth roughness meant little.
Her injured leg failed her, and she fell onto the ice.
“Granduer!” Snowglade gave a whispered shout and darted back to her.
She could barely see her, but she could feel her help her sit up all the same. She – she really is a lot bigger than I remember her.
I guess she's old enough to be a soldier of some kind...
“Are you okay?” her little sister asked, her voice full of worry. “Can you keep going?”
“Y-yes. Of course. Of course I can!” she breathed out. Her voice was far better than last night, but still raspy. She clambered back onto all fours, only to find herself crying out when she tried to walk with her injured hoof, a foreleg from Snowglade flinging out to help stabalize her.
“Just – just a three-leg walk, I can do that.” She began the awkward gait, stumbling as much as moving.
“Alright, let's try this for a minute, I'll be next to Rarity,” the younger pony gave a hushed call to the pony in front of them in the column, Clockwork. He was a pegasus who had been on sentry duty outside when Rarity had first woken up, so she knew him even less than the sergeant.
They started forward again with the awkward hobble, the two sort-of sisters now by each other's sides as they walked. “Can't we slow down at all?” Rarity asked in a whisper.
“No, we're dangerously close to a dome right now, we've got to get further away,” she simply stated with a shake of her head. “If you can't keep up, we'll just have to...”
“Leave me behind?” she asked darkly.
“No!” Snowglade objected.
“But... if I'm really going to just hold everypony back, you can't just...”
“We're not doing that, end of story. We'll figure something else out...” Her tone wasn't entirely certain.
“Oh, Snowglade... You always strive for the best. You really believe the best in everypony. But... The way the sergeant was talking, I'm honestly a bit scared...” she whispered in an even more hushed tone. “Are you really certain he wouldn't leave me behind?”
“I -...” she caught herself and stopped. “He's had a hard past. I... I don't honestly know. But...” she hesitated again.
“What?” she eagerly pressed the younger pony.
She just looked up at Grandeur, thinking for a moment before continuing. “What would you do if you had to choose in-between the lives of some random ponies you stumbled across, who probably hate you, or the safety of a few ponies you love?” she asked.
“I – I don't know. What ever is this you're talking about?”
She felt Snowglade gently press her to walk a bit faster, but she struggled with her odd 3-legged gait.
“He was on a patrol like this once, when he came across some young civilians, about my age. They didn't have a lot of options. Really they had to pick in-between killing them and letting them go. They let them go, and everyone he cared about, that he was supposed to protect...”
“...was captured?” she reluctantly guessed. The world had set a clear pattern, though.
“And executed. Or were killed directly. Through no fault of his own, really. I'm really not even supposed to know this...” her voice tapered off. “But, I think you should know he won't let you die. When given the choice he'd risk everything to save you. He's proven it. You can trust him to look out for you.”
She muled over what she'd been told, carefully processing what it meant about him. And how it might affect him. “Maybe – do you know if he regrets what happened? Maybe it means the exact opposite...” she fretted, feeling her heart freeze in her chest.
Her little sister took a minute before answering, “I – I don't think so? He's very, very strong-willed, I don't think... He certainly wouldn't be-...” she cut herself off and bit her lip. “I – I'd stand up for you, just please, walk a little faster...”
“Shh!” came from behind them with Gratitude's voice. They immediately realized their volume had gradually slid up as they'd talked.
She tried to hurry her pace, but it was even harder than the limping. Every time she had to step forward with her front leg it was a little hop.
She felt a small hoof fling back across her chest, stopping her in place, then push her down. She obeyed Snowglade's nudges and flopped down on her stomach.
She heard it long before she saw it. A tremendous roaring sound, some horrendous mix of the buzzing of a swarm of hornets and the roaring of a manticore, but as deep and powerful as thunder. The sound gradually faded in, then she finally saw obscured points of light, then big glows move from the right side of her vision to her left as the sound crescendoed and faded away again, disappearing back into the darkness.
“What-” a boot stuffed her mouth as soon as she'd opened it. So she listened. After a long, painful minute of terrified silence, she heard pegasi wings flapping, then the sound finally passed.
Hoofsteps rushed up to meet them with an urgent, whispering voice, “Gratitude!” It was the sergeant. “Sound off, all three, keep it low and stay put!”
“Gratitude, here!”
“Snowglade, here!”
“Clockwork, here!”
“Grandeur?”
“Right here!” she matched the intense and strained, but still whispering voices the others had used.
“Clockwork, Snowglade, Grandeur's the reason we're going so slow?” he asked.
“Yessir,” the pegasus answered.
“Y-yes, sir.” Snowglade's reply was far more hesitant.
“Put these on,” the sergeant's voice came again, immediately followed by more steps from him, some ruffling with bags and straps, and three thuds in sequence as he handed bags off to the three other members of their team.
“Grandeur, come here and climb on,” he ordered.
She hesitantly approached his voice until she could finally make out his form in the darkness. He sat low, offering his back.
“Come on, it's this or we leave your corpse behind, your call,” he urged her.
She recoiled at the threat. “Excuse me!?” she whispered hoarsely.
“Do it, Grandeur!” Snowglade urged her.
She stepped forward and sat sideways on the stallion's back, only for him to bump her off.
“No, straddle it, you've got to hold on tight! Sit up right behind my neck, like a piggyback ride!”
It was the sort of violation of personal and private space only Pinkie could get away with. She stiffened as she imagined climbing into such an awkward pose on a pony she hardly knew and had just made mention of murdering her.
But with her and Snowglade's lives on the line, she simply plunged through the brick wall of her hesitation and jumped on. She gripped tight to stay on as he shot up, whispered back, “Now move it, let's go!” to his team and began galloping ahead.
"What's going on!? What was that?" she asked as she clung on.
"Search aircraft, we have to pierce the search pattern now or they'll be right on top of us!" The sergeant replied, somehow keeping his voice low despite the gallop.
She had no idea what piercing the search pattern meant, but it was obvious it involved galloping. The entire time they'd been quieter than a whisper, but now, though the soft boots muffled the gallop, apparently their life depended on being fast.
Although she had to hold on to survive, and he'd just threatened her life, in one way she was relieved.
She couldn't walk as they needed her to. It had come down to it, but instead of just leaving her behind, he'd chosen to put himself in a humiliating position and carry all of her weight.
And none of the ponies had said a word of complaint on carrying extra weight on behalf of her. None had even groaned or sighed. It was an automatic reflex and a matter-of-fact. There was no debate or discussion. They were going to get her to Bastion alive, even if she was just dead weight they had to literally carry.
Despite his threat, she knew he was risking all of their lives for her, even if the same choice had failed him in the past. They were going to get her to bastion.
Just as soon as they did whatever their “task” was.
The governor startled awake when she heard a knock on her door. “Go away!” she reflexively called. She'd fallen asleep on the pillow in front of the low coffee table in her personal car. She still felt a buzz, and a little drool on her chin. She wiped it away.
I fell asleep? No, I didn't pass out, I didn't drink that much... The painful question still pressed in her mind. She knew she should kill the alicorn, but hardly had the strength to do it. Something in her refused to give up. Nothing is ever easy with me, is it?
“Governor, m'am, it's Nightgale. I'm here on important business,” a muffled voice came through the door.
She immediately got up and answered the door in her nightgown.
He stood in the tiny hallway outside her room, averting his eyes as soon as he saw how she was dressed. As protocol demanded, three of her personal honor guard stood behind him. “You three, back to the foyer,” she immediately ordered.
“Yes m'am.” They all replied and immediately left the tiny hallway.
Nightgale watched them leave, then turned back to facing the wall rather than look at the governor directly. Before he could speak, she did. “Come on in, Nightgale, and don't be so shy, it's just a nightgown, it's not like I'm naked.” She turned around and led him into the room.
He followed, made sure to close the door behind him, cleared his throat, then started, “Hm, yes. I'm just here to see the asset, m'am.”
She couldn't help but notice for the first time what honor and valor his medals told of. She always knew he was loyal, dependable and strong, but she was glad he'd been recognized for it over his entire career. “Oh, the asset?” She went all the way to the bed then sat sideways across it, stretching with a yawn and shuffling her wings. “Well there's more to see here than that other mare.” She grinned wolfishly. She could feel herself blushing, a buzz still in her head from her wine.
He looked troubled. “M'am, with all due respect, I'm just here to have a word with the prisoner,” he said in a low voice.
“Oh there's no need to be so quiet. This room is very soundproof.” Her eyes were lidded.
“While this design puts a secret cargo car in the most secure location possible, I now have complaints for the engineers for making it impossible to access without crossing your personal luxury car. May I go see the unicorn?”
“Oh hush, I'm the one who ordered that car there. To make sure nopony could interrupt our time with the unicorn. But nevermind her, nopony can interrupt our time together, either...” She blinked twice.
“Right. May I go see her, then?” he asked, unphased. “It's been a long time now. If she wets more than her towel can take, her wool blankets could get wet and she would die of exposure in minutes. The car behind yours is only soft-warmed. It's only barely above freezing. I also wish to begin interrogation, and inventory must be taken on all the classified material in there since we are now underway.”
“What if I wet more than my 'towel' can take?”
He shuffled his wings uncomfortably. “M'am!” he sternly rebuked, “I understand these are your private quarters and you're off-duty, but I'm not. Not until you're safely in Hatten.”
“And who do you report to? Me. And only me! So why don't you come 'report' to me right now?” she sat up, her wings flaring, her voice picking up desperation. “Other officers report to high command, but not you, not a personal guard.”
He started a brisk trot towards a door beside her bed, opposite from the door he entered from. “Excuse me, m'am.”
“How dare you disobey me!” she yelled, then shot out beside her bed, in front of him.
He stopped. She blocked his path to the door, and the only way around her was to climb over her bed. He glanced back at the door he came in from, then back at her.
“What's wrong, Nightgale? We're both single. And you're sworn to protect me! What if I need protecting?” She walked towards him.
He backed away, but kept his posture straight. “There are three honor guards in the foyer. I can stand guard in the machinery room -” he nodded towards the door she kept him from “- if you're concerned about your safety from the unicorn, I could even watch the beast directly, but-”
“I don't want to die to die alone, Nightgale! Don't let me die without-”
“And you won't!” he snapped and stopped in place, the door to her private bathroom behind him.
“Then you'll... -?” she raised a hoof to his jacket's buttons.
He grabbed her wrist, then gently lowered her hoof back to the carpet. “Not now. I meant you won't die. If you want to court me, then ask when you're in a better state of mind, m'am. But we both have our honor and duty to uphold-”
Her wings flared, now for an entirely different reason. “Duty, duty! Enough duty! I – I...” Her wings relaxed as the anger in her voice dissipated. But duty is what I decided to be loyal to.
...isn't it? She shook.
“M'am... Full Spectrum..." his voice fought to keep calm, suppressing a slight shake, but he steeled himself through it, "You're correct. I only report to you. And you're an attractive mare, definitely. But I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're inebriated. I have my security concerns about you drinking on this train, but it's not my position to ask you not to. But it is my position to attend to the tasks you ordered me to when you were in a clearer state of mind. Now, since you are not in a position to grant me permission, I'll assume I have it, unless you have any major reasons I shouldn't go attend to the unicorn right now?”
As he spoke, her eyes went distant. I decided to kill that unicorn to uphold my duty. And now what am I doing? The buzzing in her head grew harsh. Betraying it? Betraying the thing I've killed so many ponies for!? I won't just die - I'll die a lonely disgrace!
“I'll take that as a no,” he continued. “And governor,” he put a hoof on her shoulder and looked straight in her eyes. She met his look, her own eyes now wide open and fully aware. “I don't know if it's appropriate for a governor and her honor guard to court, but we can discuss that when you're in a clearer state of mind. But I can promise you one thing - you will get through this train ride safely, and we will take down The Falconer. Do you understand?”
She felt fresh tears pour down her cheeks. She nodded.
“Good.” He walked around her, then out the door next to her bed.
With the door closed, she was alone again with her thoughts and an unclear mind. No thoughts came, only a confused shower of emotion. His comforting words clashed with her fear.
She laid on the carpet and cried, though of the many things swirling in her mind, she didn't know which ones she was crying about.
Twilight laid in a confused darkness in the coffin-sized box. It was cold, the straps chaffed painfully and the position was uncomfortable, though the wool blankets were soft enough and the drugs strong enough that she floated in and out of consciousness for some unknown time. It was a sweet relief from the throbbing pain where her horn used to be.
As the periods of wakefulness grew longer and more coherent, she began to realize she could hear the rhythmic clanking of train tracks.
Then she heard a metal door open and boot steps. The steps drew closer until she heard the lock on her box being keyed open, and the lid finally lifted, wafting in icy air. The blanket over her face was pulled down, and she saw a blue pegasus stallion standing over her in a decorated military uniform. He was the same one who had accompanied Rainbow earlier and had held her down when she was moved into the box.
Her eyes were wide and afraid, and yet seeing any face was a relief from the isolation. He looked familiar – I've seen him in the Wonderbolts, haven't I!? She glanced around the dim, yellow-lit train car. It was clearly a freight car, the space was stacked high with metal crates.
“You're alive. Good.” He unfolded the blanket off of her, immediately exposing her to freezing air. He inspected the length of her body in the box, then put the blanket over her again. “If you're too loud I'll beat you, but if you start shivering let me know.”
She nodded, wide-eyed.
He lifted her box, set it on the floor, and began going through the crate it had been resting on. Over many minutes, one by one, he went through each of them, carefully examining them from one end to the other.
She had no idea what was happening – but hoped she might be able to figure it out with what she did know. As she fished through her memories, she began to recall how her interrogator had explained something about going somewhere safe, and that if she obeyed ...She'll reunite me and Rarity? But how could she be alive? I held her body!
It's obviously not true. She knows I held her body, right? But... Maybe that's why it is. If it wasn't true, she wouldn't make such a blatantly false lie, would she?
The illusion magic exists to make some other pony look like her. I think Astilbe mentioned something about that. But how would these ponies get a hold of it if they hate unicorns so much?
Then a memory clicked. She said she knew we could enchant things. So she knows that much. Maybe they use an illusion spell with some magic they captured from unicorns? But that doesn't make sense, if they think we're evil... Well, actually it does. Why not use stolen items, especially if they have useful enchantments on them?
Is that what he's looking for? But he doesn't seem to know where he's looking, he's just going through everything from one end to the other...
She didn't dare ask anything, though. She remained still and silent, as though he might somehow forget she was there if she were simply quiet enough.
It was a monumental task, but after enough time, he finally finished it. After re-packing and closing the last box, he came and stood directly over her.
He looked down at her with apprehension, wonder and uncertainty.
“Hmm?” she asked. Even through her gag, as nothing more than a muffled noise, her fear was audible.
“Oh, shut up. You pass for a decent mare but that's not what I'm here for.” He began pulling the wool blanket off her, feeling down to her side.
She tried to keep from trembling in fear. It was one thing to be left alone in a cell, even if blind. It was another to be touched up and down while completely helpless to move. This pony had very quickly made it obvious that even if he was a Wonderbolt in Equestria, he was nothing like one, here.
His hoof moved behind her to her bound wings. He slid one forward enough to see it, chaffing it painfully against the binding straps. “Remarkable,” he muttered, then replaced her blanket and sat down beside her, looking down at the captured alicorn.
He chuckled, then shook his head, turning to face the end of the car, lost in thought, though she was still completely within his field of view. He was silent for long minutes filled only by the clanking of the train's tracks.
“Curiosity is a weapon of war, as much as belief and knowledge are. Looking for answers at the wrong time and place can get you killed as much as not having them, but...” He looked at her. “Sometimes the right answer can change everything. Absolutely everything. You're already screwed, alicorn, but cooperate with us with the truth, and you may live to see your friend, yet, as the governor said. Personally, I just want to get to the bottom of this. I know underneath that horn you used to have and all this terrible abuse you've received, you're really just a young mare, trying to make her way in this harsh world. So help me help you – are those wings real?”
She thought for a moment before responding. I can only hope he's being sincere, though he's probably not... but I don't know who these ponies are except that they kill unicorns. If they keep treating me like one, things won't change. But they might treat an alicorn differently... Anything is better than this. So if I can get them to treat me differently... it can't get worse. She nodded.
“Are they taken off some poor pegasus?”
She shook her head.
“Did you grow them with some kind of magic?”
If it weren't for the gag, she would've bit a lip as she thought about it. I didn't grow them, no... Celestia gave them to me. As for what I should say... if I say I grew them, that'd make me a unicorn with some fleshcrafting magic, not really something they should treat totally differently, right? She shook her head again. It's true, anyways, I didn't 'grow' them...
He sighed, glancing away again for a moment to think, before turning back to her. “Well, you claim to be a true hybrid, at least. We'll find out the truth, and you will pay for it if you've lied to us. Heavily. Do you understand?”
She nodded rapidly.
“Well, I'm not so sure you do.” He produced a serrated knife from somewhere outside her vision, and brought its point down to her face.
She whimpered and recoiled, pushing her head back and away, stretching her neck out, but he only pressed deeper until it poked a small bit of blood out on the tip. She shrieked in panic, remembering the sawing on her horn. Her entire body shook as much as it could within her bonds. Her forehead throbbed as her heart raced.
His voice took on a malicious tone. “Oh, this is just the least of what we can do. Did you know it's possible to drown in your own blood?” he lifted the knife and laid its edge near her chest.
Her breathing was ragged and quick. What do you want from me!? What do you want from me!? Her cries were indecipherable through the gag.
“But that's a mercy compared to the kinds of stuff The Order can think up.” He gently ran the dull edge of the knife down her side, pulling the blanket down, until it arrived at her cloth garment at her hip, then ran it a little further down. She tried sitting up, but his other hoof quickly pinned her. She squirmed all she could but to no avail.
“You've had your horn cut off but that thing is numb compared to here, right?”
She yelled into her gag again, sobbing uncontrollably as the tiniest amount of pressure was applied on the knife on her hip.
He pulled the weapon away, the malice sapping out of his voice. “But, no, that's not what honor is about.” His hoof that pinned her shifted to her shoulder, and he again looked urgently straight into her eyes, desperation in his own.
As she blinked the tears away, she could see the knife was gone.
“That's what others will do to you if you've lied to us. But not me. I'm trying to keep you safe from that – so tell me straight, and tell me now if you've stolen those wings from a pegasus, grown them with your magic or if they're some kind of illusion or other trick. Tell me straight, alicorn – tell me straight! -” he repeatedly emphasized, “are they some pegasus' wings?!” he asked again.
She madly shook her head.
“I'm trying to save you from what they'll do to you if you're lying – even if you've lied to me now, that's fine, I don't care, but THEY WILL care, so tell me now and tell me honestly – are they fleshcrafted?!”
She furiously shook her head again.
“Are they an illusion of any kind?”
Again she shook her head.
“Are they grown out of magic?”
Yet again she shook her head vigorously.
“Were you born with them?”
And again, though this time, hesitantly, she shook her head.
He cursed and pounded a hoof on the metal floor.
“They are real, aren't they? And you're some kind of unicorn-pegasus hybrid?”
This time she nodded furiously, and said something else into her gag that was indecipherable and ignored. An alicorn! I'm an alicorn!
He groaned and sat down next to her coffin of a crate. He sighed, shaking his head, “This won't get far, will it? You said you're not born with them, yet you insist they're real. Then how did you get them? I'm not stupid enough to remove the gag off a magical creature... but let me make one thing, at least, very clear.”
He sat up and stood over her again, and she immediately felt the knife back under her chin. “There are ponies I will protect, that I am sworn to protect. If you were really trying to save your friend, then you understand risking your life for somepony else, and your very existence is a threat to those I protect. So when we do take off that gag, if you say or do anything, ever, that threatens the safety and well-being of the ponies of this world, I will teach you how – show you to new depths of pain you did not know existed. So you will never – I repeat never, do anything to put my ponies in danger – even if they ask you to die, if living puts them in danger -” He put the knife down by her thigh. She flinched. “then I will make you regret a choice to live. Got it? If it's your life or theirs, you die! Got it? Got it!?” He repeated.
She nodded furiously again, now crying.
He immediately removed the knife and sat back with a sigh. His voice sounded quieter now. “Good. Be a good pony and do what we say and you'll be fine.” There was some bitter undertone to his voice, though she barely heard it as she shivered in her coffin.
He reached down and put the blanket back over her face, then moved and sat a bit further away, falling quiet.
Long minutes, maybe hours passed of nothing but the train tracks clanking underneath, and her sobs finally calming down after a long time. She couldn't even move to wipe her tears.
The time was a small eternity that couldn't pass quickly enough. Her mind felt like a trainwreck of panic and helpless fear.
Finally, his voice broke the silence. At first she instinctively winced in fear, then she realized that his voice sounded almost broken. “What would you do to save your unicorn friend? You would risk your own life, you proved that by entering Delphi. But what if you knew you could die to save her? Would you do it?
“What if you had to kill some innocent young mare in order to save her? Would you do that?
“But what if you didn't have to kill one, just terrorize her, to save your friend, and save many others, too? What if you could fix everything wrong in the world just by terrorizing one filly? Would you do it?
“Honor is a funny thing, isn't it? It can be painful and hard for the pony who holds it, and everypony around him, but the right thing is always the right thing to do, no matter how hard.
“I have my sworn duty, pony. I will execute the governor's orders even if they're to torture you to death, in the name of honor, and surviving this Great Winter. If you've lied to us, then that's what my orders will probably be. But life must go on, despite this horror you've brought on us all. But luckily for you, you may play a special role in all this.”
Is he – is he sorry for what he did to me?
He stood up, lifted her box back onto the other crate, closed the lid and locked it again. She could hear him walking away.
But – would he actually do all that? She didn't want to remember the feeling of the cold steel of the knife's edge against her body – but she couldn't fight the memory as it flashed back into her mind, as unable to shrink away from it now as she was unable to break free. It was threatening her, teasing her with its serrated edge she'd already felt saw through her horn.
The footsteps stopped a moment after she heard the door click open, and he talked back to her again, “but don't hesitate for one moment to believe that I would be willing to do all of that and more for the safety of the pony race. All of your terror and agony means nothing to the collective survival of every living pony.”
The buttercups are blossoming. The Kestrals are just singing as ever. The buttercups are blossoming. The Kestrals are just singing as ever. He echoed in his mind.
Crimson Fire made his way to the Horus theater through the cobblestone streets of the city. The theater wasn't the grandest one in the dome, but it wasn't some small backwater one, either. Its prominent display was easy to spot. It made it easy to navigate a block to the north of it, and to the first cafe on his left.
The mission was simple but precise. A far cry from directing a mechanized supply chain through The Abyss, but ever since Gold Will returned, it looks like spy work has become my new assignment.
He set to work, absent-mindedly getting himself a small lunch. He silently cursed to himself, if only she weren't so stupid about how she came back, and not gotten spotted by Icewind's agents, then the Brigadier General wouldn't know she's back!
It still pricked uncomfortably in the back of his mind, though. I'm glad she's back. I intend to get her mind back, somehow. I absolutely won't see her die again. But that's because she's my sister. But Icewind is willing to protect her, too, to make me work for her? Isn't this making an alliance with the unicorns, then? She's protecting somepony the unicorns have messed with.
Okay – so am I, but she's my sister, that's different! I intend to reverse her brainwashing, but Icewind has no idea! She doesn't care! For all she knows I could be plotting something with the unicorns.
Who's side is she even on? She doesn't seem to mind sheltering somepony who's been brainwashed by the unicorns, and she's definitely up to something messing with the governor, the way she talked about her. He wasn't ready to swallow the significance of what he'd done, when he followed her orders to re-assigned the air patrols.
And I'm just playing along. Right into her hooves. But what am I going to do, rat her out, and have them raid my house and find Gold Will to have her executed again? Icewind's doing a lot of sketchy things here, but for all I know this is a police affair I'm delivering this message on, and she hasn't done anything illegal, yet.
Nothing, except knowing Gold Will is back and not reporting this unicorn mischief.
He shook his head. The buttercups are blossoming, the kestrals are just singing as ever. How am I going to get myself out of this one?
She's got me cornered, and I know too much. If I don't wiggle out of this somehow, I'm going to die. And probably Gold Will, too, maybe even Scarlet... Just as soon as I'm not useful to her anymore, Icewind will have me killed. And maybe even if I'm still useful to her but I've just been around for too long...
He finally had his meal on a plate in his hoof, and paused to look over the cafe to find a place to sit. This was the important part.
Then he saw her. He thought he even recognized her from some play he'd seen before, too, but couldn't place it.
She was sitting by herself in the corner, taking her time with a small meal. She played some side-roles in some bigger shows, but obviously was far from being anything of a star.
She's the one I'm supposed to deliver the message to. That pink curly mane stands out!
He made his way to her, setting his plate down on the same small table across from hers. “Mind if I sit here?” he asked.
“Only if you don't know what's going on with the Kestrals. They're my favorite singing group, you know? So patriotic. Do you know what they're up to?”
“The Kestrals are just singing as ever,” he replied.
She shot a small smile at him. “Always glad to see a new face,” she commented, a subtle hint of ire in her voice.
Well, she's an agent, so having a new contact on my end means another pony knows about her, and she's probably not too pleased about that...
“So you're a fan of them too, then? They're such an obscure group. Absolute pity they aren't heard from more often, you know?” she asked another question.
Alright, don't panic. Just... Improvise. I know what I have to say, whether or not I know everything else I need to say.
Though in the back of his mind, the concern flashed across his mind; is Icewind killing me already by throwing me at this agent unprepared? With enough code to interact but not enough to get through?
“I just... uhm, I really like their garden, talk about obscure...” he started. Despite the many years of practice he'd had, it wasn't practice in this field. The anxiety was audible at the fringes of his voice. He knew forces far more powerful than him were lurking, waiting to kill, and there was nothing he could do to protect himself, nevermind his younger sisters.
“Oh, relax,” she giggled, “it's like you've never talked to a mare before. Can you guess my name, or do you already know it?”
“Astilbe,” he answered.
She nodded, “so tell me about that garden, then. I've heard all the Kestral's songs, but never about this garden of theirs.” She'd been sitting, picking at a small salad very slowly when he arrived, but suddenly she was wolfing it down, breaking eye contact as she worked on her food.
His nerves loosened a little. Maybe it's not more code, maybe she's just... talking. There's just the coded parts, but the rest is just normal conversation, isn't it?
Well duh. How else are we supposed to communicate? And by surrounding the code in normal talk it just makes it even more secure, difficult to pick out of the noise...
“The buttercups are blossoming, last I heard,” he told her.
She froze in the middle of a bite, her ears perking. She looked back up at him and answered with a mouth full of food, “really!?”
“Uh-yes.” He nodded. “The Kestrals are just singing as ever, and the buttercups are blossoming,” he repeated the message to make sure.
She swallowed the last of her food. “That's wonderful! I love buttercups. Mmm, I'd love to go see them, sometime,” she continued as she stood up, stepping away from the table, “but for now, I've got a busy day. And you are?”
“Crimson Fire. Major Crimson Fire.” Is this really ending already? I guess it went well? Well, she got the message, so that's a success.
“Well, Major, glad to meet another Kestrals fan, it'd be nice if we bumped into each other again sometime, but until then, remember to treat the buttercups like queens if you meet them.”
Remember to treat the buttercups like queens if you meet them. He couldn't help but think this must be an important code, so he tried to memorize it. I wasn't trained for this. Are you trying to get me killed, Icewind, or just throwing me over my head to sink or swim? Could you have at least told me more about how these meetings are supposed to work?
He nodded at her, “Farewell.”
She bit onto her plate to carry it to a station, “g'bye” she said around it, and headed off with a skip in her step.
The buttercups were blossoming. The train was on-schedule.
Sergeant Fate's team kept walking through the dark, barren waste. Since they had evaded the roaring lights, it had been unusually quiet, and under threat of being heard by more pegasus patrols, it stayed silent. Although she was eager to ask about the lights, Rarity also didn't entirely mind the silence. With a sore throat, upset stomach and shivers, she had little to say as she was hurried along with the rest of the group. Whatever it was they were out here to do, the sergeant was sure it was important.
There was no snowfall, but in the foggy darkness they couldn't see more than a few dozen yards, regardless. With hard ice sheets for ground, there was no need to cover any tracks. The bumpy mess of ice didn't yield under their padded boots.
The sergeant wasn't carrying her forever, but he let her rest her forelimbs on his back, while still walking with her own, perfectly healthy hindlegs. Keeping balance was difficult and made none easier by the slick ice. It was hard to keep from kicking his legs, but easier than trying to walk with her injured hoof. She was continually exhausted, her hoof still sore, and throat and lungs pained with every biting cold breath.
It felt like countless hours passed in this painful state. Many times Rarity had thought she'd hit her limit, only to find herself still somehow supporting half her own weight.
Finally, the sergeant lifted a hoof, and they all stopped. “Okay, Snowglade, you're with me, the rest of you stay here. Clockwork, you're in charge.”
“Copy that,” he confirmed.
Rarity let off an enormous, relieved sigh as she flopped down onto the ice. The thick winter gear they'd given her to wear was enough to pad the fall. Clockwork turned around to face her. “Need a hoof?”
“I'm quite comfortable, thank you...” she groggily replied from an unnatural resting position.
He simply perked a cynical eyebrow at her, though the motion was barely visible under the arctic gear.
“Here...” he sat next to her, “sit up and lean on my back,” he requested.
She simply moaned, too sore and tired to move.
“You'll really want to. Here, take my hoof,” the medic appeared next to her out of the foggy darkness and offered a forelimb.
She took the hoof, and reluctantly sat up, then the nurse sat with them, all three of their backs together. “Laying on the ice is a very bad idea. Your gear isn't really warm enough to keep that kind of cold out from so much direct contact with it.”
“Okay.” Her tired voice simply replied.
They both felt Rarity's posture slacking.
“Are you alright, Rarity?” the medic asked.
“Y-yes, it's just...” her weak and tired voice tapered off. “Well, no, I guess. I'm just so tired, and I just want to go home...” she complained.
“We'll get you there,” Clockwork assured her.
“Just don't fall asleep,” Gratitude warned. “That's dangerous out here. Snowglade and the Sergeant are just stopping to do some radio checkups. Maybe they'll find out something good and we can pitch tent early.”
Rarity moaned again.
“I... Imagine these have been some very rough days for you,” the Cerulean medic sympathized.
Well... she struggled to think over all of it. The days of over-working, missing the recital, Sweetie Belle dying, the fury and despair in the days that followed, how she almost killed herself, and then coming out here. Normally it's polite to answer with a 'it's going well', but... she simply couldn't bring herself to answer that way. “To say 'dreadful' would be a dreadful understatement...”
Thinking over recent events, what had just happened came by her mind again. “So, since we can talk now... what was that thing we ran by? Some kind of great flying machine? A monster?” she asked.
“Eh, that was an aircraft,” Clockwork answered.
“An 'aircraft'?” She perked up slightly. He sounded very confident – he knew exactly what it was. Simply getting a solid answer to a question was a sweet relief from the terrible assault of events she'd been experiencing.
She moved her hoof as to idly bounce her mane as she spoke, only to realize its curls were now hidden away under a thick, warm hood.
“You don't know what an airplane is?” he asked.
“I – well, I know about airships, but that was nothing like a sky yacht...”
“Totally different thing. Those use buoyancy to fly. Very slow. What we saw was a T.B.-five. It's a big flying machine. It uses propellers to fly fast and it moves quickly to generate lift over its wings. It carries lots of very, very powerful explosives under them, that it can drop on groups of ponies and vehicles or bases... But that's not the worst part. The worst part is the machineguns on top. It's like a flying machinegun nest, it'll just circle its target, put spotlights on it, then rain fire from above.” He shivered. “All you can do is hide, and pray you don't end up in its spotlights.”
She simply blinked. Propellers and wings I get, but... “Machineguns?” she asked.
He paused. “Like guns. But automatic, huge, and mounted.”
Her blank look continued. Although with their backs together he couldn't see it, the confusion was palpable.
He made dramatized sound effects with his lips.
She raised an eyebrow, and turned to face him over her shoulder.
He put out his forehooves like he was holding a pogo stick, “it's this big... contraption”, then feigned recoil and shooting “dun-dun-dun-dun-dun.”
“What in Equestria are you doing?” she held back laughs.
“Just... Illustrating a machinegun. Big, mounted, rapid-firing gun...”
She was grinning, barely containing her laughter at his ridiculous demonstration.
“Oh, stop that. Anyways, I know how to fly those things.”
The medic cleared her throat.
“What? I don't think the sergeant would mind me telling her that. Our fates are all tied, anyways.”
Rarity's grin was quickly replaced by another confused look. “Why would he? And why would a pegasus need a flying machine?” she relaxed her neck, looking forward again.
He did the same. “If we get captured, we don't want The Hatten Vanguard to know what we were doing. But I'm an explosives expert, not a pilot. The heck would we need a pilot here for? Don't know if you noticed, but we don't have an airplane in any of our backpacks.”
“Clockwork...” Gratitude sighed.
“Right, right,” he answered. “Anyways, pegasi would be on planes because they go faster, and can fly for more than a few minutes in the cold without freezing. They can also carry machineguns. And most importantly, mail, cargo, ordinance... like, bombs and rockets.”
Rarity couldn't place the feeling, but a sharp interpersonal intuition gave her the sense they were hiding something more, but it hardly mattered to her. They were keeping her safe, and that much she believed. Whether he wasn't a pilot or airplanes had some other purpose hardly mattered to her, as long as they could deliver their promise of getting her somewhere safe.
She turned to the direction the sergeant and Snowglade had set off to.
Just barely out of earshot, he and the young unicorn set to work with a set of radio equipment he'd barely finished unpacking. He put an earphone inside his hood and listened as her magic powered the equipment. After scanning for a minute, setting up the frequency exactly, and listening to a newscast for a painfully long time, the words finally appeared in passing mention. After several minutes of decoding with Snowglade, they had their message, with just one step of encoding left on it. The buttercups are blossoming.
He lifted his hoof and adjusted a watch, setting a time on it to just eight hours away.
Sunfeather laid in her bunk as the train clacked along its tracks and the wind howled outside. She yawned as she woke up, sitting up under the thin, issued blanket.
The citizen-slaves mingled in the sleeper car as they woke, meeting each other and talking. There was little for most of them to do while they rode, so it was something like a short, rare vacation. Some huddled together with blankets, and some even had surprisingly decent clothing. At the end of the car, a small group laughed.
Two guards sat on the other end, idly minding their own business.
She decided to step out of her bunk and stretch her legs by walking around the train car. Her nightgown didn't do much to keep her warm, but it was something.
“Sunnyfeather, is it?” a particularly young slave asked as she approached her from behind. “I thought I heard that name when they were boarding us last night.”
“Uhm, yes,” she replied, turning around to face her. She had only a single notch and aluminum ring in each ear, indicating simple domestic servitude status.
“I'm Snowfeather. I just... Thought it was funny. We both have 'feather' in our name.” The snowy-white pegasus chuckled.
Sunfeather couldn't help but let a little giggle slip. It was such an inane reason for the encounter.
“So... Where are you from? Do you know where you're going?” the new pegasus pressed.
“I'm from the Delphi Dome, I work at the Governor's palace-” Snowfeather's eyes glistened in awe. “-and I'm not sure where I'm going. The Governor just brought me along.” She took a few steps back to her bunk to sit down to talk.
“The Governor's palace? Is it really as grand as they say? That's so amazing! Wait... But isn't it dangerous to work there?” The white pegasus asked in a suddenly hushed tone.
“It is quite lovely. I love tending the gardens, there. And, well, just be a good pony and there's really not much to worry about...” Then again, I just... she barred herself from remembering too much. The penalties for not keeping up with the demanded work could be severe.
“But it must be scary being around the Governor.” She set down in the isle as Sunfeather sat down on her bunk.
“Oh, she's not all that bad...” Sunfeather glanced away.
“How'd you end up there? Any secrets, tricks?” Snowfeather continued her hushed tone.
“Uhm... I don't know...” She hid her face behind her pink mane.
“Oh, well... Thanks anyways. I'm just getting sent to the Rambling Rock Mines,” her voice lifted again to its usual cheer.
Sunfeather perked up with excitement, nearly hitting her head on the bunk above; “Oh, I've heard the officers tend lovely gardens, there! I heard there's even sunflowers!”
Snowfeather smiled nervously. “Well, maybe. I'm not so excited, though.” She sighed. The pink-maned pegasus gave the other a confused look as she continued: “I'm just going to be a butler for the officers... Still, I'm glad I'm not going to have my wings clipped, or anything like that. One day I'll buy myself free again. One day.”
Sunfeather's curiosity was piqued. “What do you plan to do, then?”
“I don't know. But my brother was starving, and I had to sell myself so we could have enough to eat. Now I'll be fed as long as I'm doing this, but I didn't want him to have to go into slavery, or join the military. Neither of us wanted to become a killer. Well, I didn't want either of us to. But he thought he could make the world better by climbing through the ranks... You haven't heard anything about a pony named 'Feldspar' by any chance, have you? I sure hope he didn't have to join the military.”
“No.” The shy pegasus replied.
Snowfeather chuckled again. “You're a bit of a quiet pony, aren't you? You don't talk very much, do you? I guess I can be a bit redundant when I talk, but you hardly say anything at all, do you?”
She smiled, thought for a moment, then replied with a simple: “No.” They both giggled together.
“You seem really sweet, though. I hope I get to have a friend like you when I get to the mines.”
“But... You just met me.” She sounded confused.
“Well, I figure if I travel all the time I've got to get used to making friends with everypony, and you seem grade-A friend material.” Snowfeather smiled.
“Thank you.” The more timid pegasus returned the smile.
“You bet... So, Sunnyfeather, do you ever think of the future? Like where you want to end up some day?”
“Oh. Uhh... I don't know. Somewhere nice, maybe. I don't have much control of my life, really.”
“I know that, silly filly! I didn't sell myself just yesterday. But just because you don't have much control doesn't mean you can't decide where you want to go. You may not be able to get what you want right away, but that doesn't mean you can't start taking small steps towards it. For example, I want to fly airplanes! That's mainly why I'm glad my wings aren't being clipped.” Snowfeather nervously glanced at her wings.
“But let's say I get a choice to work at an airfield or work in a dome. I could pick airfield to work towards that. And it never hurts to keep an eye out for ponies who might know a thing or two! If you keep hunting for good things, you'll find them eventually!” she grinned.
“That sounds very nice. I'm just...” Sunfeather glanced away again, looking at the floor as her ears flopped down.
“You're?...”
“I'm happy where I am.”
Snowfeather's posture shot up. “But what about dreams? Don't you want to to see more? To do more?”
“Well... I'm just happy being with the governor. She's not a bad pony like other slaves think.”
“Sunnyfeather, I know you're happy, but that's no excuse to not have dreams. Ambition is all about-”
The door at the end of the car burst open. Sunfeather instinctively ducked behind Snowfeather as the room went quiet. Four guards stepped inside and the leader proclaimed; “I require the citizen-slave 'Sunfeather,' currently serving Governor Full Spectrum. Sunfeather is suspected of high treason and sedition.”
Governor Spectrum stared at the flag hanging on the wall of her quarters. Nightgale had left awhile ago. She hadn't as much as looked at him when he reported the prisoner was alive, and left.
As she stared at the flag, the buzzing in her head began to soften. I know what has to be done. No more indecision. This war with myself is over. I know what the right thing to do is – I just need to decide to do it.
She could hear the hymns and anthem of The Order in her mind as she stared at the flag.
Forever united, together we stand. Against the darkness, with the heart of the land.
On the blood of our fathers, to protect our sons This war we'll fight, to bring back our sun.
I owe it to him. I'll do it. And if I'm too weak to do it, I'll kill myself, instead, so a stronger governor can take my place, and end my own suffering.
But that's not an option. If I'm not here, and I'm not strong enough to kill any creature – pony or unicorn – that stands in my way, then what chance does Sunfeather stand? If not for myself, or all of ponykind, or to spite Icewind, I have to do it so I can be strong to protect Sunfeather.
She went to her nightstand and produced a pistol, strapping it on with a fireglove, meant to shield her hoof from the muzzle blast of the gun firing next to it. Her heart raced as she finished putting it on, her mind made.
She still felt some of the dizziness from the drink – she felt a tinge of doubt. She was an alicorn, wasn't she? Isn't that significant? All those lies the Ceruleans tell about alicorns...
No. I've made up my mind. We will stand united against the dark! All of ponykind depends on strong leaders! I must be strong! Or all life will cease!
I will be loyal to my sworn cause! It must be true – too many have died for this great cause, for it just to be some lie!
She entered the rearmost train car alone. Nopony was in there – except for an alicorn in a box. Part of her hoped the mare wasn't still alive. Maybe the blankets weren't enough – or they were too much – or the airholes were too small or too big and she suffocated or froze – but Nightgale had checked on her earlier and she was still alive. Maybe she wet herself more than the towel could take, got the wool blankets wet and froze to death. With how many hours it's been that's sure to have happened!
Yes. Unless Nightgale changed her with some other rag she'll probably have frozen to death by now and I won't have to do anything, she hoped.
She walked forward in her nightgown. It was cold, but she didn't anticipate being in the unheated car for very long. This will be quick and painless for both of us. Then it's back to my warm car for me. And back to my seat of power. The same life I've lived until now – the same life I'll take back. This is the only sane thing to do. It's time to grow up and be like all the other Vanguard officers.
The cold metal floor was hard against her bare hooves. The clanking of the train rolling over the tracks beat like the steady, tense drumbeat of an execution.
It felt as though it took far longer to cross the traincar than it had any right to.
The cold was already biting, but not yet numb – yet she didn't feel it. Her eyes were wide as she looked down to the coffin-sized box. She could see her breath.
She simply stood in front of it, her heart pounding in her ears. The buzzing in her head was again growing harsh. After a minute that was agonizing for both of them, she finally opened the box.
The entire body was covered, not even a face was visible – but the blankets shifted. They steadily rose and fell with the alicorn's breath.
I'll just wait – no! Another side of her mind barked back. Kill her now! You cannot wait! If you don't do it now you won't ever do it!
But I can just wait – all I have to do is not take care of her and she'll die. I won't have –
Don't be such a damn coward! Either have the guts to finish her off now, quickly and painlessly, or don't do it at all! Don't just leave her here to die!
Make a choice. I'm either a governor, or a coward. Pick one! No more languishing in-between the two, no more constant internal turmoil! And I've picked one – it's her time to die!
But – if she's already dead I won't have to – despite seeing the rising and falling of the blankets, some part of her somehow doubted; she couldn't even hear the breathing over her own panic, so she pulled the top of the blanket down.
The winged unicorn muttered something through her gag. The question was impossible to understand, but her eyes weren't.
She was scared, but almost more curious than afraid.
The governor readied the pistol, then raised it at the prisoner's head.
The alicorn's eyes met it – and immediately she clenched them shut, then looked away, wriggling helplessly in her bonds amidst more muffled protests.
“I – I have to. For this winter to end, I have to,” the governor told herself.
Or is this why the winter is raging? She again doubted.
“I know what Icewind is like. She'll kill me if I don't do this. Maybe she'll kill me if I do, too – but I have to. I'm a governor, after all – ponykind is depending on me to keep them alive! Sunfeather is depending on me to be strong! I have to be! I have to be there for her! For all of ponykind!”
The alicorn stopped struggling, then looked back at her.
The eyes spoke with their expression. She could tell what the creature was thinking. But kill me?
“I-I have to be strong enough to do this!” she yelled. “This is the moment I decide who I am! I will be the strong governor the world needs! Icewind can kill ponies herself without flinching! She doesn't have my weaknesses, that's why she's winning – I have to get this weakness out of me! This damned, sick sympathy!” She stomped the forehoof she stood on. “I can't have sympathy for the forces of EVIL!”
The alicorn's look turned pitiful. But Spectrum wasn't sure who she was pitying.
“They don't care like I do! They could kill a dozen ponies with their hooves and laugh! I'm – I'm not like that, but that's who I have to be to win this – to beat Icewind and this winter! You're just some dumb unicorn – so what if you're an alicorn – this – this isn't about the winter, this isn't about The Order, this is about power! That's why they win because they know that! They wouldn't care about you, I don't care about you!” Her hoof was shaking. Her aim was darting around the unicorn's head.
The look was judgmental now. Amidst the governor's own crying, Twilight's own cheeks were also wet, yet her expression was calm and strong. Will you do it? Will you really do it? Who are you, Full Spectrum?
Who will I decide to be?
I know this might be why the winter is happening. I became governor to end the winter. But what if I'm causing it? I've read their book. The Ceruleans say – she cut off her own thoughts.
“Why can't I do this!? I've seen hundreds of ponies strangled! Hundreds more necks snapped – I sat silently by when I could've pardoned them, and I didn't! I've killed more ponies than you can count, so why can't I just kill you!? Icewind could! She would never have had a second thought! Neither would Nightgale, or especially Hurricane himself, or Major Fire, or any other senior officer!” She sat down, raised her other hoof started squeezing the trigger. “They'd never doubt themselves, they'd just – just -!”
A loud bang shook her world.
The little ring of an empty shell casing landing on the metal floor echoed in the car.
She could only hear her own wild breaths. The shot was so sudden she'd flinched and shut her tear-soaked eyes. Yet she could smell the gunpowder. She stood, quaking and shivering, listening to the clanking of the train. Finally, after what felt like a painful minute of silence, she opened her eyes, and rubbed them dry. There was a clear mark on the outside of the box where the bullet had ricocheted away somewhere. Twilight was still breathing, and there was no bloodstain on the blankets.
She ripped the pistol off, fell on the ground and cried.
After several minutes, she was too cold to sit any longer. She stood up, looking again at Twilight.
You caused all this. You're...
No, you didn't. You're just part of it. Unwillingly dragged into it. I caused all this. Icewind is responsible for her own actions. She won't pay for them, though. We will... “Because I wasn't strong enough. Everything I've lived and worked for will fall apart because I can't make myself kill you...” she muttered to herself.
Her gaze fell to the floor. “But I'm not even sure killing you would solve my problems. It probably wouldn't. But we'll both die, anyways, so what does it matter? What does it matter what I do at this point?...” She looked back up at Twilight. “If I cut you free, will you save me from all this? Nightgale will do what he can, but... even if I survive this damn conference, I won't live for much longer like this. I'm not vicious enough to survive in this office. Not without Veil, and she's gone now. If I save your life, will you save mine? I need a unicorn. You're not nearly as powerful as Veil, but maybe you can still help me out somehow... For some reason...” Her ears went limp on the sides of her head.
Twilight nodded. “Mhmm” was easy enough to understand despite the gag.
“Did you enchant any of your body parts or something – oh, nevermind that. If you did, you can get us out, and if you didn't, then big deal, you look weak enough that I can handle you...” She slid a hoof behind Twilight's back, then slid her up so she sat against a stack of crates behind her. She set to work releasing her bonds from the top down.
“Ah,” Twilight sighed with relief, her mouth finally free of the gag again. “What – what happened? Is that it, then? I – is this -...” she was too afraid to ask whatever it was she was wondering.
“I don't know if you're free for good or not,” Spectrum frankly answered as she worked on the rest of her binding. “We're on a train that's probably going to get bombed by its own escorts or something. Brigadier General Icewind has some plot against me, I believe. But I was too much a coward to have her executed on mere suspicion of it. So, because of my own incompetence, we'll both be killed by her...” she glanced at the pistol again, then shook her head. “But I know I've failed. I'm not strong enough to kill you.”
“Strong enough!? That's total nonsense! What's 'strong' about killing somepony!?” she yelled.
Spectrum answered with a subdued, beaten voice. “Resolve. Will. To push through the fear of ending another life. Not that I'm even innocent of that...” She finally freed Twilight's forelegs.
Twilight immediately leaned forward with her forelimbs wide – Full Spectrum flinched in fear before realizing it was not some pin, attack or hold – but a hug.
“I – I know you're strong, but you're not evil! I'm just so happy you finally came to your senses!”
“Came to my senses, huh?...” she echoed with disbelief.
There was genuine excitement in the alicorn's voice. “Yes! You realized that there's something stronger than being a murderer – you chose friendship over your own power! And what you get instead is the greatest power of all! Maybe this world isn't so terrible, after all!”
Spectrum was bitterly, painfully cold by now. Part of her wanted to throw this ridiculous alicorn-unicorn thing off of her and rush back to her warm car – another part wanted to enjoy the warm hug awhile longer. It was more than her body that wanted the warmth. It reminded her of Sunfeather. But it didn't excuse her madness. “What the heck are you going on about? How does this help us survive?” she asked.
“The magic of friendship! You – you came through for me! You talked about how to end the winter and what you said was wrong – the way to end the winter is by defeating the Windigos with friendship! But uh...” She pulled out of the hug and shivered. “Getting somewhere warm would be a good start...”
Spectrum's shivers started to slow her work of unbelting the straps on Twilight's back legs, “You said you'd rescue me. So what's your plan? You haven't used any stored enchantments yet. Do you even have any?”
“This would... This would be a breeze if I had my magic...” she lamented, struggling with the knots holding on the loincloth she sat in.
“Well, you don't have a horn anymore. There's nothing I can do about that...” I'm glad she doesn't seem to realize I'm the reason for that. But it should be obvious, shouldn't it? There was an uncomfortable silence as she finished her work with the straps, then looked up to find Twilight was staring off beyond the walls of the car, her garment still on her. Her eyes were disturbed - the shock was visible, but hard to say what of many things she was currently being haunted by.
“I'm not taking that towel off of you. You can follow me to my car when you've got it off. Then you can wash up in my bathroom,” the governor said, standing up and taking a few steps towards the door.
Twilight's eyes sparked back to attention, looked at Spectrum, then down at her own waist. “Oh, I – I can do this real quick, I just...” she struggled with the knots again. “I just...” the pitiful sorrow rose in her voice.
The governor watched, sighed, and despite her intense shivering, walked back to where her released prisoner sat, looking down at her clumsy attempts to use her hooves. “Here.” She reached in and untied one side.
“No, no, I can-...” despite her protests, she simply stopped and let Spectrum work.
And she untied the other, then briskly trotted back to the door.
Twilight sprang up after her, “I – I could've done it, but -”
“You can't even get your own diaper off when you're untied without your magic. Why should I believe you can save me?” She didn't slow down as she opened the door and walked into the next train car.
Twilight ran to follow close behind, her voice indignant, “I – I never got very good with my forehooves, okay!? I never needed to. I've been -...” her tone slowed down, “I've been the best wizard I've known since I was a foal. By the time I needed to use my hooves I was far better with telekinesis...”
“Well that's over, now – at least close the doors behind you, don't let all this warm air out,” she called back as she went through a second door. Twilight complied – the sharp, biting cold driving her out of her thoughts and forward.
After going through a machinery room and into the carpeted luxury car, the governor flipped a switch next to her bed then got into it, looking back at the naked, shivering alicorn. “Go clean up in the bathroom,” she nodded her head towards a door, “I'll warm up in here, then you can get some clothes on and we can talk.” She rolled around, facing away from her guest with a hard shiver. “I don't want to see you until you're washed and at least in some underwear. Try not to take too long. We could both die at any moment, and I'd hate to die without getting to at least talk to a unicorn first. Especially if she's actually an alicorn...”
The wind howled outside the tent. Sergeant Courageous Fate lay awake in his sleeping bag. He had lost track of time, laying there, still. Whether it was hours, or minutes, it was always hard to tell, but it felt like an eternity that he lay, eyes closed, inviting rest and sleep, and both unwilling to come.
We have orders, we must follow them. I must lead these ponies. This is the only way we'll be getting back to the Victoria. Then back to Bastion.
That crazy unicorn. Maybe I should've left her. Our food supplies will be strained and already we'll be out of sleeping bags. And the tent is getting packed.
...But I'm glad I carried her. We've all agreed to put our lives on the line – she hasn't. I'd rather die as someone that tried to carry her than live to be the coward that let an innocent mare die to save my own hide. I'd never dishonor this team by putting such a cowardly bloodstain on all of us.
Still... Is this a mission they should come on? Snowglade is so young. Such stupid, special circumstances she got in with. Why did she have to be so talented as to end up on this surveillance team? She'd be much safer as a crewmare back on the Victoria... He mentally sighed. But the risk to their lives is worth it. I must never forget what must be done. One day we will achieve victory, and The Vanguard's unicorn hunts will be over forever.
But still...
The memories flooded back with unwelcomed clarity. The ambush. The firefight. Waking up, and finding bloodied ice, and fourteen dead Order soldiers. His squad had fought valiantly, but against such numbers, it wasn't enough.
Iron “Lucky” Star, a passionate and gifted demolitions and electronics expert. He had talked about how he'd get to smelting and metallurgy when his service was over, how he'd continue the family tradition, and turn it into a large company. He was never content to be anything but the best, and despite his younger sister being a cripple, he was always proud of her. But now, he laid still in crimson ice, the cerulean sun patch torn from his uniform; doubtlessly some soldier had taken it as a trophy. Lucky had been true to his name, he was spared the fate his squadmates had met.
Firelight, the eager-to-please and hardworking unicorn colt had been captured alive. He was full of promise, yet doubtlessly The Order would torture him before publicly executing him in their brutal, “Spectacular” manner, and later it was confirmed, and reported that he had disappointed the crowds by dying too easily, too quickly. He was so ambitious, yet his small frame had been something less than herculean.
Morning Song, the ever-kind, ever-quiet unicorn medic from the abbey, he'd learned little about. She didn't talk much, and had been nothing less than an angel to everypony around her. Somehow, fate had been kinder to her, and she was executed by The Vanguard more traditionally at the Rocky Ridge military base, despite being a unicorn. Almost as though there was some ounce of pity in the Vanguard's soul for a young mare as kind as she had always been.
All of them had served heroically to the end, but one was left.
He wanted to sink lower into the sleeping bag and blankets – to hide under the ice sheets. But the feeling went away as he remembered – the only way to redemption was forward. I'll kill ten Vanguard thugs for every member of that team I lost...
He saw again in his mind the interview back in the office in Bastion days later. The cold, ill-lit room, the desk his commanding officer sat behind, the calender turned to July 21st, 998, two days behind the actual date, July 23rd. The bookcase stocked with papers and folders, the two windows on the left with the shutters open, the little stain on the wall behind the officer, a steel-blue stallion with a silver mane. He remembered the look of concern and confusion he had as he spoke;
“...The medical ward isn't sure about your ability to remain in action, but their conclusion on your fitness to serve comes down to a self-evaluation – which really means you have a choice. Just say the word, Sergeant, and your tour of service is finished. You have a chance to honorably leave now. Most ponies would be thrilled for the opportunity you're being offered, and nobody would blame you after what you've been through. Your service has been invaluable, and you already have plenty of stories to tell. You'll be greatly respected even if you go back to a comfortable life now.”
"Leave? I can't leave. I can't rest. Leave and do what? Become a baker? I have to fight for them. Everbody dies some day, and the only way I can die at peace is if I die how I should've - in combat, alongside them. I would rather that than whither away in old age...”
“That's a piss-poor self-evaluation, sergeant – but for the sake of your record, I'll give you a chance to tell me what's wrong with it,” he'd prompted.
“I don't intend to just let them kill me, sir. I intend to make them die for their cause, not let them make me die for mine.”
The only reason I'm still here is because I know they're desperate for as many of us as possible. What happened wasn't my fault, but at the same time, it is a stain on my record. But they'll let even stained sergeants lead missions here. They need experience-hardened experts, not colts who've never stared death in the eye. And I'll be damned if I haven't done some amazing things before...
But with missions this risky, one day I won't return.
Only then can I join them again.
They're the lucky ones, probably basking in a summer sun somewhere peaceful right now.
I can't ever forget them. I will never know peace until I've died for their cause, as I should have so long ago. I must honor them, and live and die in apology that I lived, and they died. It's only fitting that I should die as they did. I owe it to them.
But not today. Not with them needing me. His mind wandered back to their explosive charges. New technology – specially designed to pierce thick armor like butter.
This stunt will be hell to pull off, and so many things can go wrong. But we've got a train to catch.
Their travel pattern had been inexplicable. They had cantered for awhile, then suddenly Snowglade had used some magic – Rarity could feel it – and she'd been hushed and made to lay on the ice with Gratitude for some painfully long time while the rest of the team went off somewhere by themselves.
“Whenever I give you a little tap, give one back so I know you're not unconscious,” Gratitude had whispered. They'd laid on the ice for so long she understood why she'd been given that order. As time wore on, she started to get cold despite the many thick layers. On a few occasions the tap startled her and she'd realized she'd almost fallen asleep.
Finally the rest of the team returned, and it felt like endless hours as they laid in silence for no discernible reason. But given the last time an aircraft passed, how if she'd talked she would've gotten them all killed by the pegasi that followed after, she knew better than to question their methods.
But slowly, the cold grew sharper, and reached deeper, and her eyelids and body felt like lead. She had started to shiver, fighting to keep from shivering too loudly, before she finally heard the familiar, terrible roaring. Another aircraft appeared in the distance, sweeping a bright light over rail lines on the ice. She heard a small click from the sergeant, and a stopwatch start ticking.
“Go, go, go! Sixty seconds!” the sergeant bellowed, leading Snowglade and Clockwork away in a sprint.
She was again left alone with the medic, who insisted she remain quiet.
Far ahead, the two stallions and young mare found the railway in the dark void, and set their present on it, then galloped back.
Twilight felt like she'd only just arrived in this terrible, strange world. Almost immediately, the whole nightmarish ordeal had melted from her mind – or at least, she refused to remember why she was washing herself in a dry bathtub, had chafe marks around her belly, ankles and wrists, or how she'd gotten on this train she could hear endlessly clanking over its tracks, to this tiny bathroom where she had to use warm rags to wash herself. Her entire body was painfully sore and stiff.
But as she dipped a soft cloth in a bowl of warm water and splashed herself with it, she remembered this much – That's not Rainbow, but she has some seed of Rainbow within her, and I know Rainbow is loyal, above all else.
They're just characters in this book we're all in, but she has to have some semblence of Rainbow within her – why else would the book have chosen one of my best friends to play her role?
A thought poked out at her, what even is her name? Who is she that she's in this luxury car, knows all those other ponies, yet she's also the one who – who talked to me when I was... - and she has, what was he – some guard?
She paused. She felt her entire body tense. She could remember the knife again. The helplessness to move. The bonds strapping her in the tiny coffin. Shivering in terror as she felt the knife caress her body, helplessly unable to move away from it.
She jumped up and flared her wings up, “Yargh, NO!” she kicked wildly with a hoof, knocking the bowl of water over, her eyes suddenly wide as she stood on the edge of the bathtub. Her forehead hit her with a pang of pain, and she sat back down in the tub, panting.
“What's going on in here!?” Dash popped in, looking half as panicked as she did.
Twilight whipped her head back to look at her. Rainbow still shivered with cold – but Twilight shook.
She tried to speak, but her tongue caught itself. “I – I...”
“Are – what's... what's wrong?” the pegasus finally asked, her tone becoming a bit more sympathetic, the sharpness of her terrified look softening.
“I just...” Twilight's voice broke. I – I – what was I doing? What is she doing? Why is she doing this to me?
“What happened?” she repeated the question again, taking a tentative step forward.
“I – I just...” the de-horned alicorn bowed her head. She still felt throbs of pain under her bandaged forehead. Her voice fell to a barely audible mumble. “I just wish I could forget. I – I just remembered and it startled me...”
“Remembered what?” the governor asked, taking another step forward, eager curiosity strong in her voice.
It felt oddly easy to be open to a pony who didn't exist – who was nothing more than a character in a story. It was like talking to her reflection. “...what your friend did to me,” she whispered.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence filled only with the endless clanking of the train's wheels over rails.
“I -...” Now the governor was at a loss for words.
Twilight looked back up at her.
The governor moved her mouth as if to speak – then caught herself, saying nothing for another few seconds, before finally speaking again in a deeply sorrowful tone, “I'll... I'll dry you off from the belly forward if you'll get the rest. After all I've put you through, I should be your servant...” she walked into the bathroom and took two dry towels out of a little shelf, then sat at the edge of the tub. “Turn around, I'll start with your back.”
Twilight still stared at her, her eyes still wide – afraid for a moment to turn her back on her, before she thought, if she wanted me dead, she could easily do it right now. I'm not good with my hooves. I feel so shaky and sore it's hard to sit upright, even. She inwardly sighed. She spared my life already, and she's unarmed. She's not going to kill me now, and if I refuse, she could easily overpower me and kill me. She even said so earlier.
If I refuse this and she actually wants me dead, she'd go and get that pistol and shoot me, anyways.
She just looked at the dry towel she found in her hooves, then closed her eyes, and let out a long breath, and turned around, almost expecting to find hooves on her neck. Instead, she felt the dry towel rub on her back and around her wings. The sensation of having another pony dry her was vaguely familiar. The memories came back to her quickly. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine it was her mom drying her off after a bath.
I – I need to get a handle on this! We're together now, that's all that matters. Whatever I just came out of – it's behind us. We just have to make sure it stays behind us. I need to figure out what this situation is – why she thinks she's going to die, and come up with a solution.
I didn't have my magic in Discord's maze, either, and we still pulled through. And this time, Dash is already on my side, so... I just need to figure out what's going on.
She mentally caught herself No – not “Dash” - some character who's like Rainbow Dash. This isn't Rainbow Dash, though, she's a fictional character! I can't forget that, no matter how real this book seems! It's all just fictional. Whatever it felt like that pony did to me – it's just – it's just like a bad nightmare I can wake up from. Like reading some horror book. I'll just close it at some point and it'll be over.
I just need to get out of it, and be sure to take my friends with me back to Equestria – the real world.
No matter how real this all looks, feels, sounds... It's just like the whole 'Power Ponies' comic book world. This would never happen in the real world. Such a terrible society could never exist. She again comforted herself.
She opened her mouth to ask why she'd been imprisoned and abused – then caught her tongue, again steeling herself. I know. They believe unicorns brought an endless winter. Astilbe explained this. It's not a satisfactory answer to me, and I know it's factually wrong, but they believe it and there's more important things than trying to change her mind about that when she's already on my side. It is what it is. First things, first. I didn't mope about why Discord had taken my horn or The Elements, or why Chrysalis sent me to those caves, captured me and my friends, or why Sombra put me in that trap – we just found a way, and that's what I'll do here, now. Rainbow's on my side, so I need to figure out how to save her – like she asked me to.
Maybe I'm not good with my hooves, but I am good with my head. “So...” she finally broke the silence, “what's going on?” she asked, finally returning to her normal senses and drying herself off from the waist down.
“I don't think I ever told you my name. I'm Full Spectrum, occupational governor of the Delphi dome,” she explained, her voice again calm. Her drying paused for a moment, then resumed as she asked, “when... when I first spoke to you, how did you know I had a Rainbow mane and tail? How did you describe me just from my voice? Didn't you say something about another world?” She started gingerly drying the unicorn's head, being careful around the bandage over where her horn had been sawed off.
The questions struck her just as another pang of pain from her forehead did.
She could feel the clamps on her hooves again for a brief moment, before glancing down to assure herself they were long gone. Without my magic, I'm just as stuck here as I was in that prison – I'm not free yet! What if it's not over!? – her eyes slowly went wide again. What if she's just moved me here to get more answers out of me?
“Y-Yeah,” Twilight nodded, and kept herself from saying any more. But I don't want to let her know I'm onto her yet, either.
She shivered. If she's just doing this to make me talk, then if she finds out I'm onto her, she'll just send me back... I don't want to go back.
I won't go back.
I'll find a way from here... And I'll have to do it quick.
“So... you came here... just to save your friend, was it?” Spectrum slowly fought through her words, and ignored her unanswered questions.
Twilight hesitated. There's no way she doesn't know what I've already told her. She's gotta be testing me... “...I just want to find my friends and go home. Well... whoever of them is left...” her ears drooped. She wasn't a good actress, but there was no need to act when the feelings were real.
The governor finished drying her off and spoke as she went back to a tiny vanity, getting a brush out of a drawer and returning, “I honestly don't know if that other unicorn you were trying to rescue is dead or not. The one you found on the stage wasn't her. It was some other pony we used an enchanted item on to make her look like the unicorn.”
Twilight's ears perked back up. That would explain how she knows about enchanted items! “You mean Rarity – the white unicorn escaped!?”
“Well...” came a hesitant response, “escaped, yes. But she's certainly dead. We didn't even bother searching the downwind. It's like watching a pony run into a burning building and not run back out. It's pretty easy to tell what happened to her...”
Before Twilight could even think, she snapped, “Then why did you have some poor lookalike pony executed!?” she cried, stomping a hoof on the edge of the tub.
The governor didn't meet her eyes. “To appease the ponies of the dome. Ponies die all the time. That one died for something greater than herself, though – she died to bring peace to the minds of all the ponies I ruled. She accomplished more with her life than most ponies ever do...”
“How can you say that!?” She stood up and felt her wings flaring. “You can't just – you can't just kill ponies like that!”
The Governor's wings edged out, but she kept them from unfolding completely. “She was a criminal, Twilight. A penal slave for life. She had a miserable existence – we were doing her a favor and saving the entire dome in the process.” She folded her wings back against her sides. She sighed and shook her head, averting her eyes as her ears lowered and her tone dropped. “And that's far from the worst thing I've ever done...”
She looked Twilight straight in the eyes, her ears perking back up, strength returning to her voice, “As a governor I had a proud and solemn duty. A duty to the ponies I ruled over – a sacred duty to The Order of the Hatten Vanguard, and to the survival of ponykind against this Eternal Unicorns' Winter. I never once betrayed a single pony under my wings – if they died, they died in service to ponykind so the rest of us could live. That's the world we live in...” her confidence broke near the end, and her gaze turned from Twilight's eyes to her wings. “At least, that's what I used to believe. I always wondered if it was really necessary, some part of me, I guess... But now that you're here – an alicorn... that changes everything.”
She paused for a moment, then turned around and left the bathroom. “Let me grab you something to wear real quick...”
I would've expected her to be more dogmatic than that. If somepony is truly set on something, they'll dismiss any contrary evidence... The alicorn looked back at her own wings, as well. She shivered as her mind imagined what that sawing knife would've felt like on her wings instead of her horn. She looked back at the doorway Rainbow had left through. Clearly she's not being genuine. Is she trying to trick my sympathy out of me. You'll get none!
She felt her teeth grit in her mouth.
The governor returned with some clothes in a hoof. “Here,” she gave them to her guest, who stepped out of her tub and started getting dressed immediately. She turned away so Twilight was only in her peripherals.
If they consider being naked so taboo, it's about time they gave me something to wear, the thought quickly passed through her head. “So what's going on? Why do you think you're going to die? Why are we on a train?” she asked as she struggled with the clothes. Even if she lies, she might accidentally let something useful slip. It's better than nothing.
The Governor paused for a moment before giving an answer. Her voice was once again defeated and weak. She was staring at a flag on a wall in her quarters. “Well... truth be told, I've never really enjoyed the sacrifices I've had to make. The things I've done, seen... felt. All ponies have the potential to become monsters. Especially the heroes nobody believes could possibly be one. I felt myself becoming a monster, and I fought it, and the war has destroyed me. I know others are planning to take advantage of my weakness. Right now there's even a plot against me. And I've done nothing about it, because I'm scared if I have any more ponies killed, I'll...”
At this point Twilight was fully dressed in a matching nightgown. “Become a monster?” she finished for her captor.
The governor nodded, now looking at her former prisoner again. “And you, being an alicorn – that changes everything. If alicorns actually exist, then our very founding beliefs are wrong. The Order of the Hatten Vanguard is just as much lies as we believed The Ceruleans to be. I knew there were many lies and games in positions of power, but I never imagined... and...” her voice grew strained.
Spectrum gritted her teeth, her wings flaring as tears came to her eyes and she stood up, “I don't know what I want to believe! Either I did it all for nothing – nothing at all, just pointless deaths that saved nopony – deaths that not only saved nopony but are the very REASON for the winter!” she finished shouting with a stomp of her hoof, her broken voice returning to finish, “...or the world is such a cruel and terrible place that they were all necessary. That this is our state forever, that this world – that this world is just damned. If this is what it takes for the world to continue, then is it really worth saving?”
She cursed with another punch of her hoof on the velvet carpeted floor “Damnit – I-I just wish I could've lived in a world that wasn't like this – where – where I didn't have to choose! But at least – at least you're proof – right, you're proof?” She sharply turned to look at Twilight again, “- proof that there is hope for this world, if... if only The Order falls.”
Twilight was began tentatively, but built strength as she spoke, “There – I... Of course there's hope for the world. No matter what there's always hope – even for this world!” She barely understood what she was saying, but the words came out on their own. “I know we can save this world! We've done it before – when my own world was in trouble, it's always come through!”
The governor just looked at her, wide-eyed as though she'd said something incomprehensible and earth-shattering. She shook her head, “N-no I just...” she choked on her words. “But don't you understand? If there's hope then it's me – I'm the reason that – I just can't -” she put her forehooves on her head, cowering to the ground, “- they're in my head! And I deserve it! Every bit! I should be on the end of those ropes, not them! Not him! Not her! I'm not on your side, Twilight! I'm not!”
She looked up at the alicorn from her bowing position, as if she were some grand judge. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn't pleading for mercy. “I never asked for this! My whole life I've been raised to be governor, I thought the Delphi invasion would be the greatest thing to happen in my life! I thought it was the best life I could ever have – and I didn't listen when my father warned me – I should've listened!” She bowed her head back into the red carpet, “It's like my whole life I've been dreaming and only recently I've woken up to a nightmare! Nothing will end The Winter! The Vanguard is full of selfish and evil ponies even worse than me who'd just as soon kill you for fun as look at you – but I'd rather die me than become that! It's selfish, I'm selfish to care so much just about myself! To be unable to be strong and kill however many it takes to survive!”
“Spectrum – just... calm down a little...” Twilight gently plead, putting a hoof on her shoulder.
“No!” She shrugged the hoof off, standing, but her eyes were unable to meet the alicorn's again. “I – I get it now! I get it now! I can't be governor, I'm not fit to be governor! I made my choice – I couldn't kill you, I couldn't keep being who I was always meant to be!”
The wildness dissipated from her voice. She went quiet, and the ferocity was replaced with determination. “I – I can't help you anymore, I'm sorry. When Nightgale comes by, tell him 'The winter wind reaps what it sowed', and he'll believe you when you tell him I ordered your protection above all else. Maybe I can at least do something right... Something I can feel good about...” She started stepping away, towards the storage car she'd rescued Twilight from. “Remember, the winter wind reaps what it sowed...”
“Wait! - where are you going!?” The alicorn darted forward to put a hoof on one of the pony's cyan shoulders. She wasn't sure whether it was because she was afraid she'd send guards, or something else entirely, but she felt a terrifying undercurrent lurking underneath the pegasus pony's words.
She just stopped. Her voice shook, but pushed through cries and fear with certainty. “I have to die as they did, Twilight... As long as I live, Nightgale and Goldfeather are in danger. Those are the only ponies I care about. I can never undo what I've done, but I don't have to live with it anymore.”
She pushed to keep walking towards the exit from the luxury car, but Twilight's hoof held her back. “What – what do you mean by that!?” she asked.
She didn't turn around to reply. “I'm going to kill myself, alicorn. Isn't that clear? Icewind will kill me anyways, only this way, maybe she won't go after Goldfeather and Nightgale.” She kept walking.
Twilight didn't hold her back this time.
She left the car.
The Princess of Friendship's heart raced. I... She's just a character, right?
But I could feel her with my hoof!
Just like in Spike's comic book.
But I...
She felt her wings flaring in agitation.
Why – why do I feel this way about some stupid character! I don't even know what's going on, maybe it's a good idea for her to -
Or maybe she's just walking out to send in guards after me!
Knock it off, you know that isn't what's going on – she wasn't just – just making all this up -
Was she!?
Well what – what is she doing in there!?
Didn't she leave the little gun in there?
I'm going to kill myself.
I'm going to kill myself, is what she said.
She saw it, in her mind's eye – Rainbow Dash, a spray of red blood.
Rarity, lying motionless on the floor of her boutique in a puddle the same shade of red.
Her body limp in her hooves, a gush of red blood on her head.
Her body lying still, outside in the snow.
Because she told her about a book.
Because she didn't act fast enough.
She felt herself move with passion and energy she hadn't felt in years. The doors blew open before her, her forehead seared in agony like a hot iron was pressed against it – but she didn't so much as wince or even notice as she flew.
Wild, terrified magenta eyes on a cyan pegasus in a nightrobe met hers. The pegasus was crashing under her body as she pinned the terrified pony to the cold metal floor of the traincar, surrounded by metal crates and barrels.
Words erupted from her mouth with a desperate life of their own, “I – I know I don't really know what's going on but we've got to keep fighting, okay!? You want to help somepony out – help me! I need you! Because I don't know what's going on and-and” - her voice choked up as tears suddenly streamed from her eyes, “and-you're right – I am helpless! I couldn't even save my own life, or anypony else's – three of my best friends now are probably dead, because of me! Because I was stupid and let them know about a fucking book I should've never told them about! But I did, because I-I'm stupid and I'm weak and I can't even get a diaper off my waist with these hooves that I have to use now because I don't have magic! I'm as stupid and helpless as a foal, here, because your policeponies took my horn off! You want to help make up for mutilating me!? For sawing off what gave me joy and identity and purpose in life since I was a foal!? Then stay here and help me out because I NEED YOU!” She was panting.
The governor was wide-eyed. Any determination left in her was left in shreds. “But I-”
The words spilled out again, “Yeah, you bucked up and ponies died! You're in a book, Rainbow Dash! – none of this matters, it's not real, but I am, and I matter! And my friends matter, too! And you're going to help me save as many of them as possible! I hope to Celestia when they die they just pop out of this book but I'm not ready to lay back and depend on that! So we're going to do anything and everything it takes to find them and save them, okay!? Because when you had your henchponies take my horn off – now you're responsible for what I can't do because I don't have it! You've helped me free, okay – but now it's time to do the rest and save my friends – starting with you, Rainbow!” The words poured out faster than she could think.
“I know you think you're some governor, but you're not! I know who you are better than you do! That world you wished for exists, and if you help me, I'll take you back to it, because -” She put her hooves around her friend, a fresh wave of tears coming out of her as she shook with sobs, “because you're not a governor, you're not somepony meant to kill mares and stallions, you know why it feels wrong – because it is, because this isn't you, but I know the real you, and the real you is a lovable, selfish athlete who's so loyal she'd sell her own soul to Tartarus to protect her friends and you can't do that if you're dead and you can't live to see who you really are, either – so I need you to be strong for me like you always are, just a little longer...” her wild tirade had finally, gradually mellowed down, until she was left with a gentle, pleading beg. “Please? For me? For your friends you don't even know about?”
Neither set of eyes were dry. “Wha-I... You want me... to help save your friends? We're in a book?” she asked, her voice full of disbelief.
Twilight nodded, “Yes – and if you come with me – if you help save my friends, by letting us get out of here, I'll show you. I'll prove it to you, if you give me a chance. It can't be worse than whatever you were going to do.”
“You...” she started again.
“I'm from another world. That's what I meant. And I'll take you there if you can even just tell me enough to save my friends,” she simply stated.
The pegasus stared up at her from the floor for a long minute, before she started sobbing – no, Twilight realized, she was chuckling. Then laughing. The soul-crushed Rainbow Dash who had just been about to kill herself was laughing. She finally spoke, tears still in her eyes, “Okay... You're right. We're all crazy. The world is crazy. What even matters anymore? I give up. So I'll do it. I don't know what you want me to do but I'll do it.”
Twilight looked closely, thinking of what the Rainbow lookalike had said. There was hysteria, but sincerity in her magenta eyes. After a few seconds of hesitation, she stepped off of her, and offered a hoof to help her back up onto her own hooves.
As she stood up, she turned to her rescuer, “But, Twilight, we're not going to kill anypony, okay? I've – I've had enough of that. I – I enjoy it too much...” She bowed her head, her ears flopping back. “I know. Know the monster you -”
“No. You're wrong. You're not a monster, Rainbow.” The alicorn's gaze was intense and commanding, as though she could will this pony even further into submission. “And I'll show you that. I'll show you that all of this is just some nightmare, and how to wake up from it. But we can't do that if either of us are dead, so tell me who this Icewind pony is who you think is going to kill you.”
“Okay,” she simply answered with a nod, and started walking back into the luxury car. “We can talk where it's warm. I'll provide more detail. Maybe you'll see a way out of this, you mad alicorn.”
Sunfeather was thrown onto the cold metal floor, her shackles clanging as she crashed. The heavy metal door slammed shut behind her, leaving her alone in the dark as the sound of boots marched away.
“I-I - Governor Spectrum will save me again...” She whimpered again as she curled in a ball, no response except for the endless clanking of the train running over its tracks.
The desperate hope that the Governor would somehow rescue her again was all she had left as the world spun around her.
It was cold, and she started to shiver, but was too scared to ask for a blanket. And she knew they wouldn't give her one.
“Ar-are y-you okay, miss?” a sharp pang of pain hit her head as a weak, female voice spoke from the back of the dark cell.
Sunfeather sniffed and looked up, opening her eyes. She could only make out an outline in the darkness. “Who-who are you?” she croaked, wiping the tears out of her eyes to see better. The pain in her head sharpened.
“A-a lot of ponies call me 'dummy'...” the voice said, tapering off.
She felt something new. She was tired of being thrown around, of her life shooting away from her grasp. She wanted to scream at it, to buck it, to tell it to stop shoving her around, to stop kicking her and beating her and – I don't want what other ponies call you, I want your name! “But what's your real name?”
“B-Brighteyes.” A bubbly happiness crept into her surprised response. “T-thank you for asking!”, but the cheerful tone was quickly replaced with worry; “Are you... Going to get taken away? Why did you get sent here?”
You're one to ask! Why are you here!?
Why am I having such angry thoughts? “I... I...” She couldn't bring herself to say it.
She remembered telling the guards she was Governor Spectrum's property – under her protection – then their response, “This goes over her head,” and nothing else.
She remembered years ago, when the taskmaster of the palace had told her a lazy second-class slave wasn't worth her food. Then being thrown in a cell, and told she'd be spared the agony of starvation with a quicker death.
Despite the years, she remembered with clarity how the governor had personally visited her, and the questions she asked – how she actually cared and listened, then saved her life.
“This goes over her head,” she remembered the words again, still struggling to understand them.
“I-it's okay, miss...” Brighteyes started in a gentle voice, pulling Sunfeather back out of her thoughts.
Sunfeather bit her lip, her ears flattening against her head. An angry shout formed on her tongue, ready to attack the liar for downplaying her pain. Like waiting to be executed was okay.
“-It's not that bad as long as they only do it once.”
“Wh-what?” she asked, disbelief causing her anger to slip away for a moment.
“I-I - y-you see, they... uh...”
The pause was excruciating. Everything in her wanted her to snap; “Because what!?”, but she kept herself silent, but only barely. Why am I thinking like this?!
Because she's not going to die but I – she still refused to think it directly – I'm sitting here charged with high treason and she wants ME to pity HER?
Brighteyes went quiet, unable to meet Sunfeather's eyes anymore. “I-I'm sorry...” she quietly apologized.
You were telling me something useful! But now you're just going to stop-
Sunfeather! Stop it! How can you think that?
It scared her to hear her mind turn so violent. She felt her hooves tense, wanting to give Brighteyes a black eye for not finishing what she was saying.
Under Governor Spectrum directly, she'd gotten used to controlling her own life. But now, without warning, it had all been stripped away. She wanted to buck and bite on to what little control she had left. Brighteyes will not sit there keeping her secrets to herself after asking ME to explain why I'm here! She felt her teeth clench.
Confusion spilled over her. She felt her mind plummet into an agonizing fit of helplessness, fear and anger. She hated herself for her newfound temper, she was terrified of what she felt, she was scared for her life, she wanted to fight and run – from the cell, from her feelings, from everything. She felt her legs shaking – she just wanted to collapse on the ground and cry as her throbbing head spun and tears ran down her face.
But she was cornered, fettered and trapped in a cell, she couldn't run, so her anger pent up and wanted to strike whatever she could.
And she saw something in front of her. A quietly crying pony. She knew what she had to do.
I-I can't! I'm too weak to control myself! I'm too sore and tired – they're just going to kill us anyways, what does it matter!? If the world is going to do this to me, then this is what it gets! She shook as she fought herself.
How could you, Sunfeather, how could you!?
But she struggled with the despair with every pounding beat of her heart. All her agony, confusion, pain and self-hate melted away in two sentences: No. She needs me.
Her mind was made. In defiance to all she thought possible, she managed a few steps towards the huddled figure, her chains clanging as she walked.
As her eyes adjusted, she saw more clearly. Brighteyes' light gray coat was bruised, and her shackles bolted into the wall.
The blond-maned pegasus flinched as Sunfeather approached, and her cries grew loud, “I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I – they-they beat me because-”
“It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you.” She felt tears well in her own eyes, now for a different reason. It was a new feeling, yet again, but it overwhelmed her. She felt like she wanted to wrap the abused pony in her hooves.
Brighteyes broke from her sobbing. “Y-you aren't going to beat me?”
“Of course not.”
“B-but... but they all do...”
I almost became like all the other prisoners. Of course they all feel helpless and angry. I did, too. But I just... didn't act on it.
“I won't.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise.”
“W-will you...”
She remembered what Snowfeather had done for her, and how it had made her feel. This pegasus needed the same.
“I'll be your friend.”
Immediately a pang of anger hit her again. You'll stoop right down to her level?! You have one chance to be better than somepony else – ONE chance to not be on the bottom! One chance to not give up what little you have left! It's time to push back! Don't you dare let them put you on the bottom! Look at this pathetic creature! You're not as stupid and meek as her! You'll both be dead soon, anyways, what does it even matter? You've been nothing but a grovelling slave and look where it's gotten you! It's time to step up and fight back!
Stop it, stop it! I'm not like that! I could never! Her pounding head spun. All her pain returned. Her legs clenched.
You'll just get angry again and again and nothing you ever do will stop it. You won't be able to hold it back forever – you never had to face me before – you don't know what it's like to hold anger back! I'll just keep coming back until you bow to my will! Give up now and save yourself the fight! You're about to die – why keep fighting? Just give up! Nothing matters now! You're already dead! Learn what it's like to be in control for once in your miserable, bottom-feeding life you stupid slave! Just-
She jumped forward, hooves out, and wrapped the gray pegasus in a hug. It was her only hope against the unwelcome barrage of thoughts.
Then, something happened. In the midst of her despair, she felt a small spark of warmth inside of her. She had done what was right, and that was all that mattered. She didn't need a blanket for warmth, not when Brighteyes was there.
“Th-thank you...” Brighteyes whispered into her ear.
There were no dry eyes in the cell. They, however, were not afraid. It was a very different thing than fear that they felt.
“It'll be okay, Brighteyes... Everything always turns out okay...” Somehow, she believed it.
The new feeling came back again and crashed over her. It was similar to how she felt nourishing and loving the plants of her garden, only so much stronger she couldn't bear it. It didn't matter to her if she died, now, or how she might be interrogated with her groundless charge of treason. She didn't even wonder who had accused her or why – she didn't care. She wondered why Brighteyes was here, but didn't want to ask her if the question hurt her so much.
She felt something she'd never seen among the highest nobles and leaders in the world. She had something that the High Command itself could never dream of holding. A nobility that no power over armies and courts could grant. Something, that if only to glimpse it for a fleeting moment, made every bit of suffering in her life worthwhile.
At that moment, knowing she was waiting for execution with no recourse but a desperate hope, she realized she wasn't on the bottom of the world as her furious thoughts had told her - but on the top.
She pitied the high officers of The Order, who would never know such a feeling.
No sooner had Snowglade, the sergeant and Clockwork returned, crashing next to Grandeur, than they again heard the terrible roaring of aircraft in the distance. The hazy white spotlights of one, then another, and another all passed by through the darkness.
“Trigger one!” The sergeant ordered.
Snowglade grunted, her horn flared with light, and a moment later one of the aircraft was enveloped in a brilliant orange flash as burning pieces fell to the ground. Just as command had promised, a bomb had been planted in the escort aircraft set for her signal.
There was no time to wonder how they had gotten the right aircraft on the right assignment on the right time.
A thunderous bang overtook them moments after the wreckage crashed into the ice, leaving their ears ringing.
The other two aircraft continued as if nothing happened for several long moments, before the big white spots of light finally vanished in the distance.
“Fifteen seconds! Snowglade, don't screw it up – remember last two cars! Ignore everything else!” the sergeant ordered.
“Yessir!” she confirmed, closing her eyes, her horn now glowing with its invisible, arcane light. With her eyes closed, and her horn focusing on electrical magic, she could see pings of electrical 'light' on the distant metal train, everywhere some electrical device used the train's metal structure for grounding a current. She could also see the wire out to the shaped charge they'd left on the tracks. “It's just like in the exercise – I can see everything!” she reported.
Soon they could hear it clearly.
She focused intensely, the pings of 'light' painted an incomplete picture, but she could guess about where the last two cars were. She waited until the wire was almost under them, then yalped as her horn flared and she fired the shaped charge.
In a bright flash the package under the train erupted in a blinding yellowish-white light. The train buckled and screeched as the last two cars derailed. Though they disappeared, crashing into the darkness, the screeching of tearing metal was deafening. It sounded like two water towers wrestling on the ice.
“Trigger two!” she cried. “Good blast! Charge went off as designed!” she reported, shouting over the noise.
“Grandeur, Gratitude, follow from long distance! Guards from the train will be coming on us in less than a minute, don't get caught! Rest of you, let's go, rifles ready, go, go, go!” the sergeant stood up and sprinted off into the darkness.
The noise of a battle of shrieking steel and ice finally came to a rest.
Snowglade and Clockwork sprang close by their sergeant, all three running towards where the sounds had stopped. “Clockwork, take point – Snowglade, keep that magic sense going! Update us on whatever you see!”
“Yessir!” they both answered. The pegasus stallion gave a flying dart into the lead, while Snowglade's horn started a gentle glow.
She used her electric magic again to search for the familiar current in the train cars. The 'lights' were flickering and blinking in a confused mess. “I – I can't make anything out! Too much metal! – or – it's full of echoes from the crash! Or – I dunno – I just can't tell what's in there!”
After a few more seconds of running, she piped up again - “A little to the left, Clockwork!” She directed.
“Shoot anypony on sight that's not the governor! She'll know everything they know and more. A Cyan pegasus with white mane, don't forget!” the sergeant ordered.
“Yessir,” they both replied.
Snowglade took a rifle with a bayonet off her back, holding it in front of her with her magic.
The fallen cars quickly became visible through the dark, icy mist. Two train cars, still coupled together, laid on their side on the ice, their roofs just a dozen yards out and facing the Cerulean team. There was an indoor gangway between them, but its roof was torn open, spilling out a bright patch of flickering, yellow light.
“Clock, get in the air and tell me if the top-side of the cargo car is open!”
He shot into the air, then dove back down. “There's a big sliding door. Looks closed and locked.”
“Is it armored heavily?” he continued to the pegasus, no longer shouting, but now whispering in the sudden silence the crashing train cars had left.
“Yessir.”
“Then go bang on it, nice and loud. Keep anyone inside distracted.”
“Yessir!” He shot up, landing on the cargo car and setting to his obnoxious work.
“Snowglade, go to the right side of the cargo car,” he nodded towards the far end of the wreck, then reached in his saddlebags, “when you hear me kick the door down in the gangway, pop in and shoot anyone who's holding a gun. Take these,” he produced four small hoof-sized devices.
“Yessir!” she replied, taking the explosives. The whole thing was just like the rehearsals they'd done in the training fields under Bastion – she knew what to do with the charges.
She immediately ran to the far end of the train car across the ice, timing her hoofsteps with Clockwork's banging on the top-side. The door was easily identifiable – heavily armored and its locking mechanism coated with magic-reflecting paint. But with the train car on its side, it was high in the air. Fortunately, there was a large handle bar on either side of it, the lower one just within reach. When it came time to storm in, climbing would cost her vital moments, but she had her orders.
She used her magic to plant a magnetically-sticking charge on the locking mechanism, and three where she knew the hinges would be, again timing her acts to coincide with Clockwork's banging. Her magic cast a ghostly green glow of the special arcane light only visible to unicorns. She could see her breath in the biting cold as she worked.
She cleared off to the side, huddling behind the train's undercarriage, then waited.
Long moments passed with her heart racing in her ears. Painful moments with nothing to do but wait. Moments she had time to wonder if guards from the train would catch up to them – if the airplanes would turn around instead of fleeing like Command had promised they would – moments to realize the delay that climbing cost her would surely be fatal – moments to wonder if she'd die before she got the chance to see Grandeur again.
Moments to feel small and scared.
Then she heard a loud bang from the far side of the car as the sergeant kicked it down, and reflexively she set off the charges. The bang shook her body and filled the area with black smoke. She ran into it, climbed up the burning hot, bent metal to look into the open doorway, rifle ready. She saw some vague figure in the darkness and shot. Just as she dropped back to cover, she realized the figure hadn't dropped when she shot it.
“No drop, no drop! He's still standing!” she screeched in panic and cycled her bolt-action rifle, chambering another round.
After a long moment, she heard him, “Snowglade, use your horn! Any life in this car!?” he asked.
She didn't have time to wonder why she didn't think of it – she just immediately obeyed, closing her eyes and focusing on her magic again. She saw nothing but a tiny, bright ping – not a pony's heartbeat, but the magic of some enchanted item. “I – nothing! No heartbeats in this car!” she called out. She felt relieved, but was still shaking.
She perked an ear as she heard him move – she could tell he was looking inside the train car – trusting his life to her judgement – checking her claim with his own life rather than asking her to verify with her eyes.
“Misidentification!” he called. “It's clear! Get over here!” he ordered her. “And quit that knocking!” he barked up to the pegasus, who immediately stopped.
“Entering!” she announced and clambered up to the doorway again, putting the rifle back on her back, afraid of accidentally shooting the sergeant.
“What are you-” before he could finish, she was inside.
Some light spilled in from the gangway the sergeant waited in, but cast deep shadows lit only by a lantern he held. The cargo car was a mess of large crates, some straps and a wool blanket scattered around. Among the shadows, now lit by the sergeant's lantern, a bag sat with a spray of fruit guts behind where Snowglade had shot it.
She looked up at him, confused. With the car on its side, the doorway he looked through was high off the floor – what was supposed to be the wall. “Nevermind that, come on, quickly, and tell me if there's anything interesting in here.”
She checked with her magic and felt the ping again – the presence of some enchanted item. She could tell exactly where it was – it only took a moment for her to use her magic to open one of the crates and slip the item out in her telekinesis – an emerald necklace with a thin, gold chain.
“What's that? Explain,” the sergeant ordered.
She held it in her magic beside her as she continued climbing over the crates to get to him. “It's something enchanted, sir, but I don't know what the enchantment is.” The fear was palpable in her voice. She was still shaking from the mis-identification moments ago.
“Fine, bag it.”
She slipped it into a saddlebag. As she reached under him, he held out a hoof. She took it, and he pulled her up into the gangway. As she entered it, the smell of gasoline fumes overpowered her.
She looked up at him. Terror kept her from thinking – all she could do was obey his orders. She trusted his experience – knew he would get her through this alive, whatever waited in the other train car. She was still trembling, her eyes wide with terror, but she looked up to him.
The moment was as brief as it was sudden, and ended just as quickly.
He whispered to her urgently, “Okay, Clockwork's got perimeter, you go to the far side of the Luxury car and we'll do the same thing as last time. Don't let them hear you running across the ice! Now go, you've got thirty seconds!”
“Yessir!” she immediately left through the tear in the roof of the gangway, counting in her head.
When she reached the far side she saw the damage her explosive charge had done – the metal was torn in a clean hole right in the middle of where it used to be coupled to the next car, with far less clean torn and warped shafts off each side. Once again, she would have to climb. And just like the gangway the sergeant was in, somehow these lights were still on.
And once again, she waited for long, agonizing moments. This time, she could barely think. She barely even noticed the smell of seared flesh. Then she heard the noise – the bang of the sergeant kicking the door down – but it didn't sound quite right.
She reacted, climbing over the lip of the torn hole in the train car with her forelimbs, holding the rifle just beside her head in her magic so she could see down the sights.
She saw a carpeted room on its side – three uniformed soldiers – two lying limp – one sitting up with a rifle, turned towards a door beside him. He turned to her, pointing his rifle her way.
She heard a distant gunshot from another room in the traincar.
She fired, his body in the middle of her sights.
He recoiled with a sickening thunk and groan and fired. She felt a whip of air and a loud snap by her face.
He fell limp.
She felt a cold breeze across the side of her head.
She clambered the rest of the way into the room to free her forelegs – the stench of burnt flesh was much stronger – she felt her face with a hoof and drew it away – there was no blood. She quickly realized the breeze was literally just a breeze – he'd blown a hole in her hood, but nothing more.
She took a short moment to look at the carnage – three bodies. The two lying down had burnt chunks torn in their uniforms, and the third she'd just shot was just slumped in place. She'd heard stories of how shooting someone in the lungs would result in a long, horrible death. But she didn't feel glad she'd struck right in his heart, or horrified she'd killed him – she didn't have time to feel anything before she heard her sergeant call out, “Snowglade, report!”.
It was distant and muffled, from a room or two away.
“Target down! Room's clear!” she shouted in response without a thought, loud as she could to be heard.
The doorway was next to the guard she'd just killed. On its side and very narrow, she'd have to take off her backpack and crawl to get through. She looked at the body again.
“Contact in the bedroom!” Courageous Fate yelled.
“Yessir!” she answered, and immediately threw her backpack off, laid on the ground, lifted the sideways door open and crawled into the narrow hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible.
Part of her from training knew how this would work – what to do. She wasn't even consciously aware of it – she was too panicked and shocked to think, she acted on the reflexes that had been drilled into her. She reached the end of the tiny, sideways hall and held both the doorknob and her readied rifle in her magic.
Then she heard it – the sergeant kicking the door down again.
She threw her door open with her telekinesis – it was a heavy, armored door as they had all been.
As the door lifted, she saw him – the contact – and time ran slow. He was sitting with his back against the far wall – a light blue stallion officer with darker blue hair and green eyes looking straight into hers over the sights of a pistol aimed straight at her head. He flinched as a bullet entered his shoulder from above, and he fired.
She felt a deafening zing as a bullet ricocheted off the armored door over her head – she heard both the bangs of his pistol and the sergeant's rifle, and felt a stinging slap to her back, on her shoulder blade.
She hadn't even fired her own rifle.
Sergeant Courageous Fate dropped on top of the contact, screaming a warcry as he repeatedly stabbed him with his bayonet.
“Govern-” his final cry was cut short.
Snowglade was stunned with the surreal question, am I hit? as she still felt the slap in her back. She tried crawling a little further forward to leave the cramped hallway. But as she tried to take another breath, she immediately had her answer.
The left side of her chest felt an eruption of fire and her attempted breath turned into a violent bloody cough that seized her entire body. She coughed up blood like a nearly-drowned pony coughed up water.
“Snowglade!” The sergeant immediately yelled.
As she tried to breathe again it felt like she was breathing warm, salty, metallic-flavored water. She didn't see anything anymore – she could hardly even feel the sergeant grabbing her and dragging her back through the tiny hallway as he ordered her to survive. All she knew was the agony of struggling to breathe as a faucet of blood filled her lungs.
It was cold as an arctic night, yet it wasn't the cold that made Rarity shiver. Never had any cry unsettled her like the sergeant's cry for Gratitude.
Rarity ran towards the sliver of flickering, fading light coming from the trainwreck in the distance. Gratitude had taken to wing and left her behind in the darkness.
She felt a powerful magic surge send a shudder through her body, and a bright flash of magical light, the distinct kind only a unicorn could see. She ran straight for it.
“What do you mean it was ineffective!? Use another, damnit!” the sergeant's angry voice pierced the darkness.
“This is the last-”
“I don't give a damn!”
“Sir, I don't-”
“DO IT, DAMNIT, THAT'S AN ORDER!”
“Yessir!”
She finally got close enough to see Gratitude producing some gold plate from one of her bags and lay it on a figure laying on the ice.
The fallen pony was lying on their chest, their jacket and shirts pulled up so the gold plate could rest directly on a bloody hole in her upper back. It was almost impossible to make out color in the dim light, but the pony's fur looked like it may have been white.
Her heart froze. It was too small to be Clockwork, and she didn't see wing-sleeves on the uniform. She hoped against hope that she was mistaken.
The plate Gratitude had laid on the figure erupted with light. From this close, the flash blinded her, hurt her horn with the magic and left her ears ringing.
By the time her eyes re-adjusted to the dark, the plate was gone, she just saw two gentle heaves on the pony's sides, heard two gurgling noises, then stillness again.
She ran up to the still figure, “Sweetie Belle!?” she cried.
“I – I'm sorry, there's nothing left we can do. If you tell her goodbye now, she might just hear it...” Gratitude said.
Rarity stepped closer. As she tried to bend down to look inside her hood – to get a glimpse of her face – she felt hard metal on her chest again.
Her peytral.
For a moment, time stood still as a sudden spark of hope ignited in her.
“Make it fast, we leave as soon as Clockwork drags the governor out-” The sergeant turned, looking outwards into the dark abyss with a terrified urgency in his voice, “-they'll have an entire company on us in min-” he turned back to look at Rarity, stopping in the middle of his sentence. “Grandeur, what are you doing!?”
“Peytral!” is all she said, inwardly cursing that she could magic on a dress in a second, but could only undress as fast as any Earth pony.
“Be quick – don't leave skin exposed for long,” Gratitude advised. “And don't move her any more than you absolutely have to!”
“Damnit,” the sergeant cursed.
“What?” Rarity asked, just getting to her undershirt.
“You're one lucky sonofabitch, mystery unicorn,” he said, walking up to her just as she finished taking her shirt off. He put a hoof on her shoulder against the peytral, grabbing it as she unclipped the clasp on the back with her magic. He looked her straight in the eye, “you keep that luck going, got it?”
She nodded.
He took the peytral off, and immediately the freezing bite of the air on her skin doubled. She broke into a cough, but the sergeant hardly noticed as he rushed the peytral to Snowglade.
It was too big for her, but Snowglade wasn't nearly as small as Sweetie Belle, so it still barely fit. He pulled Snowglade's shirts and jacket back down over it.
Rarity magicked the rest of her arctic clothing back on, and the trio watched their young friend with held breath.
“Gratitude! It's hard as hell hauling bodies through that hallway! Is Snowglade stabilized? I need a hoof!” Clockwork's voice sounded from the traincar.
“Sergeant, I need to be here in case Snowglade-” Gratitude started.
“Got it,” the sergeant patted the medic's shoulder and ran off to the traincar. “Bodies? Why is that plural!? I told you to get the Governor!”
Neither Gratitude nor Rarity as much as glanced away from their fallen comrade, or heard the rest of their conversation.
Suddenly, Snowglade's sides jerked.
They both gasped.
“Sweetie Belle!?” Rarity asked, as excited as unsure, then broke into more coughs.
But there was no sound of breathing from the younger pony.
Suddenly, with violent gagging, a gush of blood came out from her mouth as her entire body wretched – it was a horrid sight, but she wasn't still any more.
The medic lept a step closer, pulling her shirts back up and putting her hoof on her back. Snowglade had soaked the peytral's clasp with her blood, but as Gratitude wiped some away, fresh blood didn't soak the spot again. “She's stopped bleeding! Sweet sunlight, she's stopped bleeding!” Gratitude cried.
“And the peytral – it's warm!” Gratitude reached her hoof under Snowglade's chest and felt the gem. “The gem is hot to the touch! Snowglade, can you understand me? Can you speak?”
The younger pony heaved and wretched instead of breathing – but it was dry now, nothing more than strings of blood coming out from under her hood.
Finally in control of her own breath again, Rarity leaned down, trying to see under her semi-sister's hood, and putting a hoof very gently over her shoulder.
The scarf she'd had over her face was lying in a frozen pile of blood on the ice under her, so Rarity could see the horrific mess of tears on her face and blood on her chin – but she was alive – and her eyes met her look.
The younger pony slowly, shakily nodded, now breathing raspy, pained, jerky breaths – but breathing.
“You're going to make it, Sweetie! It's – it's okay, now!” she wiped the blood off her sister's chin and held her. “I gave you that fire ruby, it's been enchanted by – probably the most powerful magic being in the world!”
“She's right,” Gratitude said, stepping closer and producing a blanket from her bags. She spread the blanket around Snowglade as she spoke, “We need to move ASAP – but the the sergeant's the one leading that, we're just waiting for his cue.” She glanced back over her shoulder.
Rarity could hear some excitement – she glanced up to see The Sergeant and clockwork tying up some pegasus in a nightgown and managing some blankets by the train car – she ignored them and looked back down to her injured sister.
“And...” Snowglade's voice sobbed out her next word, “Glade...”
“Oh, sweetie, I know you're 'Snowglade', but... you're... kind of Sweetie Belle, too.” As she spoke, it came to her in a moment of clarity, “You must realize that by now. I recognize you. You recognized me. Maybe I'm not Grandeur but I kind of am – like if Grandeur lived a different life, in a different world, and you're – you're Sweetie Belle, just living a different life and with a different name. If my boutique failed and I had to do something else with my life, would I still be Rarity? Of course I would. It doesn't matter if you've lived a different life – you're still my sister, and I love you.” She gently stroked her little sister's mane behind her ear.
“G-Grandeur...” she cried. “I-I never thought... I – so scared...” her voice was raspy and weak.
Rarity gently shushed her, then looked back up to Gratitude. “What's going on? Perhaps you can explain now?” Impatience drenched her voice. “And what was that about guards being on us in a minute?”
“This is what we're out here for,” was all she answered with, nodding her head towards the trainwreck.
When Rarity looked – this time she recognized the new pegasus in the nightgown. Her mane was bleached white – but she knew hair alterations, and she knew her face, form, and even voice, now that she listened.
“Okay.” The pegasus was sheepishly nodding to the sergeant, a leash-like slipknot around her neck, with the loose end in the sergeant's hooves. Just next to her was a huge bundle of blankets. Clockwork was gone.
“Rainbow Dash!?” Rarity exclaimed.
“That – that name again?” came a slurred, confused response.
“What are you doing to her!?” Rarity cried to the sergeant.
“She's not 'Rainbow Dash', look away!” the sergeant ordered.
Snowglade's weak voice croaked from her lap, “Grandeur, please... trust them...”
She looked at her begging, injured sister, then glanced at Rainbow, uncertainty dominating the unicorn's expression. “But – they won't -” she looked back down at her.
Her hazel green eyes looked straight at her. “You... You have... to trust. Don't... interfere.”
She bit her lip, looking back at the pegasus who, except for her mane, looked and sounded exactly like Rainbow Dash.
"Gratitude! Status report on Snowglade!" the sergeant ordered.
"Miraculous recovery! The fire ruby Rarity has - it's unlike anything-"
"Great!" The sergeant's face lit up. Even through all the heavy gear, even with his harsh manner, and even with his choice of words, Rarity could hear the excitement and relief in his voice under the fear. "Thank Celestia! Let's make sure she stays that way! Now, as for you -" he turned to the prisoner, all joy gone from his voice, replaced with a sinister malice.
He grabbed the governor's shoulder and looked her in the eye, pulling out a knife. “Listen here you worthless pile of shit – if you so much as make a yalp or the slightest cry for help, or if you try to escape, I'll cut your stomach open and your guts will freeze to the ice and you'll die horribly in a way no pony can save you from. But keep up the pace with us, stay quiet, don't cause us any trouble and don't try to escape or play with your leads, and you'll be fine, got it?”
She just stared at him, eyes wide for a moment before replying - “uh-keep up, quiet, no trouble, don't play with rope, and-”
“And I won't slit your guts onto the ice and break your legs and cut off your wings,” he finished for her.
She shakily nodded.
“Good.”
“What-what happened to Twilight and Nightgale – pegasus stallion and purple alicorn I was in my car with?” the governor asked.
“Did I allow you to ask questions!?” the sergeant angrily barked.
“An alicorn – Twilight!?” Rarity echoed in shock.
“Shh!” Gratitude shushed her.
Snowglade groaned.
“Y-yes...” The prisoner replied, confused, but kept herself from asking anything back.
Rarity looked down to Snowglade's head lying in her lap, and gently slid herself out. “Snowglade, wait just a moment, I think somepony who can help is here!” she could barely contain her excitement.
Rarity shot over to the bundle of blankets.
“I said don't interfere!” The sergeant barked.
“Sir, I advise – please wait!” Gratitude shot at her sergeant, then asked Rarity loudly, “Do you know Twilight?”
“Yes!” Rarity answered as she unwrapped the head of a pony wrapped inside the blankets. She gasped. “It's her!” she cried in a hushed voice, holding a hoof up to her open mouth. She turned back to the new prisoner, “What happened to her horn?!”
The governor simply gave Rarity a sad look.
Clockwork hovered out of the car, carrying a bundle of two sets of arctic clothing in his hooves. “It'll be easier to carry everything and leave no trail if we can get them both changed into these -”
The sergeant cut him off, “No time, we're too late already, they'll be here any second, we'll do it when-” he gave a sharp yank on the governor's lead as he took a step forward.
She let out a loud “hurk!” as the slipknot pulled her neck, and fell onto the ice.
He stopped. “Make me stop again and I'll cut your wings,” he warned with a quick snap back at her.
She clambered back onto her hooves. “I'm not used to not being able to catch myself with! -” her shocked protest quickly mellowed, “I'm sorry.”
As the exchange happened, a set of the warm clothing levitated out of Clockwork's hooves, and quickly slid themselves over Twilight's unconscious form under the blankets. “There,” Rarity said, “I can do that for her, too,” she nodded towards the governor.
Clockwork blinked in surprise.
“Do it,” Gratitude told her.
She was already floating the other set of clothes over to the pegasus when the sergeant nodded and gave her permission, “Let's keep the blankets, though, just use your magic to carry them or secure them to yourself or somepony without a load if you can,” he instructed her. By the time he finished, the governor was glaring at her, wide-eyed and terrified, but now fully dressed in heavy winter gear.
"Now everyone shut up - Grandeur, you need not be reminded of our encounters with patrols. We're about to get a lot of that, but no airplanes this time to warn us of them coming. So shut. Up. Gratitude -" he turned to the medic, "- can Snowglade move?"
"If she can't?" Gratitude asked.
"Then we all die fighting an entire company," he said, his voice more solid than the ice sheets they stood on.
"I'm worried about her wound, but let's keep her from getting new ones - she can move." Gratitude took only moments to gingerly lift Snowglade onto her back.
She quietly whimpered as she was lifted.
"Then let's move!"
The governor barely caught herself as the sergeant yanked her line again and began walking at a brisk pace. She hurried, hoping to keep the line from pulling taut.
Everypony started following, Clockwork only lagging as he picked up the bundled and limp Twilight, carrying her in his forelegs as he hovered next to the party.
And so they set off to disappear back into The Abyss, Clockwork carrying Twilight without her horn, Rarity with a limp, Gratitude with an injured Snowglade on her back, the sergeant with a mission, and the governor with a rope around her neck.
“I'm afraid you're stuck there. I'll see if there's not some way to rescue you, but... I don't think there will be. You're in the hooves of your brother, now.” Astilbe's words echoed in Applejack's head. The worst part was, she was seperated from her friends, and one of them – maybe even two – might be dead.
Crimson Fire's words only infected the injury to her spirit. “Somepony powerful knows you're back. You can't so much as poke your head outside or who knows what'll happen! If you so much as open that front door you could get this entire family killed!”
She sighed as she laid back on the bed they'd brought to the basement for her. She could only take so much of reading the propaganda books her brother had brought her before she'd rather do nothing at all than read another word of the nonsense.
So she laid on top of the covers, in clothes like they demanded ponies always wear. At least pajamas were loose and comfortable.
She stared at the ceiling with its weird bluish lights, trying to think of a way out.
Twilight's always so clever with comin' up with stuff. I'm sure she'd be able to think her way outta this. Though maybe it'd involve using magic, which – well, I don't see how bein' good at growin' stuff is gonna help me, here.
They don't got some beanstalk seeds, do they? She joked quietly to herself with a slight edge of bitterness.
I don't like bein' helpless. Not one bit. But I saw what happened to Pinkie. I know better than to go stirrin' up those guards again. I really, really don't wanna think of what would've happened if Twi weren't around... She saw her again in her mind's eye. Shaking, and in bloody agony. Her peppy, cute little optimistic friend who lived to make ponies smile. Now bedridden.
So she's bedridden, an' I'm here. I gotta find a way out, I gotta! If not for me, then for them! For Astilbe'n Scarlet'n Crimson – nevermind for Pinkie'n Twi'n an' – and I refuse to believe Rarity's dead! That had to be a doppleganger'a some sort! Didn't Astilbe say something about dopplegangers gettin' killed in place of unicorns?
She sighed at the sad realization. Well, doesn't change the fact that somepony died. Is it okay that I'm glad somepony else died? I mean, Even if it wasn't Rarity, it was still a pony with dreams an' ambition and feelings an' everything, just like'er – maybe even a little sister, too...
Maybe that explains why Twi was so adamant this ain't real. Who wants to believe this is real?
She felt the seed of doubt in her mind. She shook it off with a slight shake of her head. Nah, I can talk to'em an' everything – Scarlet, Crimson, Astilbe – they're all real! They gotta be! An' I'm gonna get'em out!...
Somehow.
She jumped in bed when she heard a knock on the door. “Yeah, am' dressed. Come on in!” she called out.
She sat up to see Scarlet opening the door at the top of the stairs. “Scarlet!” she greeted. “Wait – is Crimson not home?” she asked.
Scarlet shook her head. “Nn-nn.”
The thought flashed across her mind; the door is unlocked, then, an' Crimson's not here! I could easily get right past her an' try to find my way back to the theater!
But then what? Some mad pony-hunt for me by Crimson, possibly bein' captured an' killed – an' worse, getting them captured an' killed? No! I ain't puttin' their lives at risk for my own! That's not how this family does it!
I could'a just bucked the door down at any time if I were that desperate.
By the time she'd finished considering the pyrrhic escape, Scarlet had walked to the bottom of the stairs.
“What brings ya?” AJ asked.
“Well, Crimson didn't want me talking to you without him around, but... I just wanted to talk to you a bit again. You know, like we used to. Just sister to sister.”
It was still a bit jarring to not hear the slightest lick of accent in her voice, but the way she moved, talked and thought – it was distinctly Applebloom, still, even if it was another world and another name.
Applejack sat up and patted the bed next to her, “come on over. Whaddya wanna talk about, sugarcube?”
Applebloom seemed a bit reluctant for a moment, then she overcame her hesitation and sat next to her older sister.
“Well?” AJ gently coaxed her to speak.
“I just... Crimson says your mind is broken. But you didn't seem broken when I talked to you earlier. You actually seemed less broken than him.”
She felt her eyebrows raise slightly in surprise. “Oh?” she asked.
“Yeah, I mean... We just had this little school play recently, and it was so, so silly. But everypony seems kind of odd when they're acting. Like I guess it reminds me of when I used to play make-believe a lot more. And... Well, this whole unicorn business just seems like everypony is playing make-believe.”
“What do ya mean by that?” her surprise turned to some modest confusion.
“Well, unicorns can't be that bad, can they? But everypony is so scared of them like some big boogeypony. But I don't know anypony who's ever even seen one, except at the executions. It kinda makes it seem like it's all some big game of make-believe, or like a big play. It just... it's weird.”
“A big play, huh?” she asked, looking at her little sister, thinking about it.
Applebloom nodded. “Mhm.”
The thought stood out to her. No matter whether it was Rarity or not, somepony died terribly. Those guardsponies just shot Pinkie while she was runin', not hurtin' nopony. Then Astilbe made it sound like ponies killin' eachother here is just a regular thing.
Why would they do that?
She turned her thoughts back to Applebloom's doubt. "You know, lil' sis, it kinda seems like ya to wonder about that. Ya know... I was once in a town - or - yeah, just like I'm like Gold Will, I had a lil' sister like you, named Applebloom. Everyone in town was terrified'a this zebra who lived in the Everfree forest - this scary forest outside of town -"
"A forest!?" she excitedly piped.
"Heheh, yeah." AJ couldn't help but appreciate her enthusiasm.
"Forests can't really be as scary and bad as they say they were - were they?"
"Ya'know, that's just like you to say, too. And you found out that zebra weren't so bad. We all got to know her because of you. But I wouldn't recommend you go sayin' anything like that to the ponies here. If they... did that to Gold Will just for sayin' what she did..."
"Yeah..." the filly solemnly agreed. "Well, you're back, right? I mean, maybe your memories are all different, but You're still the pony I can talk to. I love you, Goldie!" She hugged her.
She returned the hug. "I love ya too, Scarlet."
They returned to their spots, lying next to each other in bed for a silent minute.
"Hey, Goldie?"
"Yeah, surgarcube?"
“If it's all like a big play, you think we'll all get to step out of these acting roles and take a bow, afterward? And stop being so afraid of each other. And stop being so bad to each other?” she asked.
Applejack thought for a moment before answering, “yeah, that'd sure be nice, wouldn't it? It is odd, ain't it? Why don't y'all just do that now?”
"I dunno... but everypony wants to be the good guy that stops the bad guy. That's what, like, every play is about. I've never really seen a 'bad guy', though."
"I... think I've seen a few," AJ said. "Some who weren't really bad ponies, others who were, an' really wanted nothin' but to rule over ponies."
"Really? Think they'll step out on the stage and take a bow when it's all over?"
"I dunno, sugarcube..."
It was biting cold, and the thin, coarse, simple clothes given to the prisoners was hardly enough for sitting on the icy metal of the small brig's interior. Sunfeather wondered how Brighteyes had survived the place for as long as she had.
Was she in here the whole time? She has to have been here since we boarded the train at Delphi, at least.
However she'd survived before, now they had each other. They sat close, keeping each other warm.
Then they heard and explosion, and the train shook, kicking them both awake, both of their heads popping up.
They looked at each other, afraid, their ears folding back.
Brighteyes reached in and gave Sunfeather a hug. “At least if they kill us, we'll finally be free,” she said.
Alarms rang in the barracks car behind them.
She just looked at the battered, light grey pegasus hugging her with fear. “They-they can't...”
They heard hoofsteps rush to their cell.
The viewport to their cell slid open, two eyes looking inside.
“I'm – I'm the governor's property!” Sunfeather cried.
They heard a pistol load with a mechanical slide and click.
A bang of a metal door being kicked open echoed down the hall, immediately followed by a scream, “Battlestations, shitwit!”
Before the second word even sounded, the eyes vanished as they heard steps gallop down the car.
A moment later, they heard the same metal door down the hall slam shut, and the entire train was filled with the horrible, metallic screeching sound of the brakes being engaged.
The two shaken prisoners just looked at each other again.
Brighteyes started, “Whenever there's an alarm, they usually kill all the prisoners.”
“No – I'll – I'm the governor's friend! She'll look out for me! And Nightgale will protect her! He's on the train, and she can trust him! He'll save her from whatever's going on” - she returned Brighteye's hug with a squeeze - “and the governor will save us – I'll make sure she saves you, as well as me! Maybe the guards didn't listen when I told them that I belong to the governor... but they'll have to listen to her! He'll save her, and she'll save us!”
“Are you sure?” Brighteyes asked reluctantly. “No-nopony seemed to really like having me around... I... There's nothing left that I'm good for...”
“That's what I thought, but the governor saved me when I couldn't work as hard as my taskmaster demanded. She's a good pony and she'll save you, too! All I have to do is tell her about you and how badly I want you to be safe.”
“R-really? You promise?” she asked, her hope crystalizing into something strong.
“I promise!” she squeezed her battered friend again.
“Th-thank you!” She started sobbing. “Thank you so much! I – I can't remember the last time – the last time I felt like I was going to be okay!”
Sunfeather's eyes weren't dry, either. And to think I almost lashed out at her...
A piercing, crushing headache was the first thing Twilight was aware of. She fought to keep from groaning under it, but something kept her too scared to make the noise. Her mind raced to grasp what was happening. Train! I'm on a train – with Rainbow! Rainbow is in trouble – it's an alternate copy of her. She's forgotten who she is! She was going to… She knew, but she refused to even think of it. I need to help her!
She wasn't sure if her eyes weren't open or if it was completely dark. But, where am I? The feeling of being in thick winter clothing and wrapped in warm blankets came over her, along with the sensation of being carried. She was very hot – she could feel sweat on her brow.
There was bang – everything shook, and – a trainwreck! Caused by an explosion – a bomb? And I'm wrapped in blankets again, being carried...
She sighed internally. Another stranger, who I'm completely helpless to. These must be the ponies the governor was afraid of.
No. I'm not going to make this easy for them this time. Not after – not after all this mess!
First, I can't let them know I'm conscious. If they think I'm still out they'll be less prepared. She winced as her head throbbed again. She bit her tongue to keep from groaning under the pain. Stop it, head!
Okay, last I remember, there was... She told me about how some brigadier general over a garrison made her look bad – because she refused to fire on her own ponies en masse to stop a unicorn – that was Rarity. And – and so she's trying to kill the governor?
I just need to escape from whoever's carrying me. As her mind and senses came around, she noticed the particular swaying feeling was distinct. Oh no. I think I'm airborne. Okay, I have no idea how high I am. If I'm high enough I can break free, throw the blankets off and fly away. If I'm low enough I can land safely. Anywhere between, and I'll hit the ground before I get these blankets off. Well, what about teleporting? If I can just-
Her train of thought stopped abruptly as a fresh wave of sharp pain reminded her what happened to her horn. Right. I won't be teleporting out of this one...
She felt her eyes immediately become wet, her breathing a bit harder. Keep it together! If they hear me crying they'll know I'm awake! I just – I need to focus on rescuing Rainbow!
Maybe I've lost – so – so much, and I've failed Rarity, and – and - … But I need to focus on what I can do now or it's going to get even worse!
She tried to blink away her tears. It didn't work very well, but she refocused again, anyways. I need more information. But I don't know what they're doing with me or what's going on, so I need to act fast. She listened intently for a few moments. She quickly made out flapping wings, confirming her airborne fears. But then she heard something encouraging – wind and hoofsteps.
Hoofsteps! I'm low enough to hear hoofsteps on... dirt? No, sounds more like, hard and crunchy snow? These must be some really warm blankets, then. But I can hear the steps over the wind, so I'm very low. I'll just...
She ran through every possibility in her head. Fortunately, they hadn't tied her up, either because they thought I wouldn't wake up, or they were certain they didn't need to, perhaps... She shivered at the thought.
They might just shoot me the moment I try to escape...
Even under all the blankets, she could feel her ears flop down. Well I'm probably too low to throw off the blankets before I hit the ground.So what am I going to do, then? Just – just sit here and -
“You be awake?” came a quiet whisper, in a strange accent, from the stallion carrying her.
I WON'T LET THAT HAPPEN AGAIN!
She writhed in the hooves carrying her, struggling to break free, her wings trying to flip open with the force of a solid kick.
“Woah, woah!” came his voice again, still hushed. “We – we help! We help!” The strange accent was even heavier.
Then a sweet, familiar, female voice called out to her.
“Twilight!” The voice was hushed like the pegasus' was.
Moments ago she cried knowing she'd failed her friend.
She tried to stop from feeling too much – in case it was just some odd coincidence and somehow some other pony only sounded exactly like her – but she knows my name, so she has to be – is – but how – is she!?
The governor said she ran outside the dome and died in fumes – but – how could she have escaped!? Who's body was that on the gallows, then?
How much of what the governor told me is even true?
She immediately stopped struggling and listened.
Hoofsteps approached her, and the warm, gentle feeling of magic came near her face again as blankets were folded away, letting in an icy wave of cold air.
It was so terribly dark she could barely make out anything – but the gentle glow from Rarity's horn was enough to make out her distinct face and eyes as blue as her magic. Her entire body was covered in winter gear, but a scarf wrap was pulled down so she could see her face under a thick hood.
“Twilight, it – it is you, isn't it?”
“R-... Rarity?” she finally made herself ask. She felt the hooves of the pegasus put her down on her hooves, the blankets still piled on top of her. He let out a sigh of relief on letting off her weight, but otherwise remained silent.
The cold air wafted in, flushing out all the hot air – and in a moment she went from being too hot and sweaty to shivering in the biting cold. The biting air immediately stabbed through her winter clothes and the nightgown underneath – but she hardly noticed.
The white unicorn nodded.
Just as her reservations were about to spill out, she realized not far ahead, Governor Spectrum's eyes were looking back under a thick jacket's hood that matched her own – and had a rope around her neck, the other end of which one of the other ponies in winter gear was holding. The other pony's gear matched Rarity's.
She didn't know why everypony was being so quiet, but she took the hint and hushed her own voice as she turned back to the pony who looked like Rarity. “As in – you, from Equestria? What's the name of your boutique? Who was your sister that died? What was your second boutique location? What was your boutique's motto? Where are we? What's going on? What are they doing to Rainb-Governor Spectrum?” she asked, glancing all around her, at the pegasus who carried her, the tied up governor, and her dear friend – all the while her heart throbbed in her ears as intensely as her pounding headache, and she shivered as the constant cold breeze met the sweat under her clothes.
“Yes, me, from Equestria,” Rarity replied, her own voice cold – or numb from shock, “Carousel Boutique, Sweetie Belle, Canterlot Carousel, 'Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique and magnifique.'...”
She could only remember hearing it in a cheery, beautiful sing-song tone of her personal artistic touch mixed with professional confidence. Now she cited it like echoing a distant memory.
Rarity started walking towards her. “I don't know where we are, darling, or what's going on, really, only that they've taken this other 'not-Rainbow Dash' prisoner...”
Twilight took a startled step back, legs tense, wings shaky and edging to flare out and take off.
“Twilight?” was all Rarity asked.
“Y-yes? What is it?” she asked, afraid, her confidence still weak given the strange world and lookalikes she'd already met. “Do you want me to tell you something only I'd know-” She felt hooves wrap around her, and Rarity's head lean on her shoulder next to her own.
Rarity started crying.
Twilight couldn't hold back her own tears – all at once it came out, and she was sure.
Rarity's alive!
And she returned the hug, squeezing hard, matching her friend's passion.
She didn't have her magic, but she felt a fresh wave of tears as she realized – this is better than having my horn. This is the magic of friendship.
I'm not alone.
I'm not alone anymore.
I'm with another Equestrian again.
I've finally found her,
and she is alive!
“I – but – how? I thought you died – I held your body! At city square! What did you do? Was that not you? Spectrum said it wasn't, but I didn't know if she was telling the truth – how could she, I saw your body! But how'd you get here?” she asked, still holding the hug tight.
“I don't know what horrid things you saw in that awful city, but these ponies rescued me – they saved me, and they'll save you, too, if you just trust them. I'm just – I'm so happy to see a face from home. I almost began to wonder... if it was some false memory...”
She was lost in the comfort of the embrace for what felt like a long minute that was far too short, before Rarity finally broke the silence, “You-you didn't come here after me, did you?”
“I did.”
“I – I'm so sorry!” she answered, pulling out of the hug, horrified. “I – I shouldn't have come here-”
“No, I shouldn't have left the book where it was – I could've hidden the book better, and I knew I should've moved it, but I didn't! I was the one who decided to let you read it.”
“And I was the one who read it. Twilight Sparkle,” she relished saying the name of her friend from home, “– I just – let's not bother on that – let's just get home. I – I just want to forget all of this.”
“I do, too. I really do, too.” Memories of the shackles on her hooves echoed back. She fought them by putting her hoof on her friend's shoulder. “I don't know how to get home. I especially don't know how to do it without my... - we'll figure something out. Let's just get somewhere safe, first... And warm.” She shivered again.
A gruff voice sounded from one of the ponies in the group who wore matching gear. He spoke with a heavy and strange accent she didn't recognize, “Okay, this is in good, but has been too long. We need to be in moving! Twilight, we will explain when we are in a rest. We need to be moving and keep quietness! We are being hunted! Bad ones will put us in very bad death! Flying machines! We go!”
She gave Rarity a confused look. “Do you understand them better?”
“Yes. They gave me an enchanted necklace to help with that. We have to go, quickly, and be absolutely quiet – not a single word. They have these terrible, roaring flying machines, and they follow after them in teams of pegasi. So we have to be completely silent, and we must be quick.”
“Okay, let's go,” Twilight finished to Rarity. “But where are we going? Applejack and Pinkie Pie came with me, too, and they're back in the city-”
“What!?” Rarity snapped, barely keeping her voice hushed.
“They're mostly safe for now. They're hiding with friends, but we have to find a-”
“MOVE!” the gruff voice hissed.
“Twilight...” Rarity used her magic to turn the blankets that wrapped Twilight into an extra layer of warm clothing – including a hood and a scarf wrapped around her face. The cold air stopped biting so hard. “Follow me.” She started walking after the group.
Twilight followed.
Rarity spoke in a hushed tone over her shoulder back at Twilight. Her voice carried more fear and grim certainty than she'd ever heard from her fashioniesta friend, “They'll take us somewhere safe. Maybe we can figure out how to undo this whole book, or rescue our friends from there. But I have no idea how to navigate this darkness – I don't even know how they do it. And the railroad will be a death trap. If our friends are safe for now – then I can't bear to see you end up like Snowglade almost did.”
“Wow, Rarity, you... I don't think I've ever...” That's... thoroughly analyzed for you. And who's 'Snowglade'?
“Twilight?”
“Yes?”
“I am sorry, but we really must be quiet now.” There was a heavy sadness in her serious voice. It was obvious that she may have adapted, for now, but she wasn't happy about it. “We can talk when we've set up our tent... And I look forward to it.” There was a hint of excitement in her last words.
“Okay.” Twilight nodded. “Me, too.” Her voice broke on her last words. She followed her friend into the dark, icy abyss.
Only now did she start to notice Rarity was limping, and one of the ponies in the team was carrying a smaller pony in another set of matching gear on their back. Despite her ever-growing questions, she kept quiet, heeding her friend's warning.
Sunfeather and Brighteyes were huddled together in the back of their cell, where Brighteyes was shackled.
The train's brakes had stopped, but the train hadn't. They could tell by the sounds of the clanking metal that it had slowed, but not stopped. The brakes had started again more gently before their guard came back in – this time, another set of hoofsteps followed his. They were now much slower and relaxed – menacing in the cool confidence in which they approached their cell.
“...mere hours?” the new voice asked in disbelief.
“Yessir. I believe it was – three hours before the attack. The orders for her arrest came from a messenger from the radio room.”
“That's hardly noteworthy – she is the only domestic servant on-board from the governor's palace, but this is just moving her one car closer to the attack – though it didguarantee she wouldn't be in the governor's car during the attack, if she were called in there. As a domestic servant she would be a security threat – so I'll go ahead and take note of this. And the other one already has punitive marks, yes?”
The hoofsteps stopped in front of their cell.
“Notched into her ears and on record, yes.” As the guard mentioned Brighteyes' ear marks, they saw the peephole on their cell door slide open, letting in a flood of light. They could see the stallion wore an officer's cap.
“What I'm most interested in is that you reported whispering. Could you make out any words from it?” He stepped closer and looked inside at the two slaves, noting the ear notches, himself.
“'Governor', 'attack', 'cerulean' and 'save'. It sounded very menacing.”
“Right. We should put in their records an advisement that they never receive gold earrings to invalidate their marks... But if the investigation finds anything, they'll be swinging by tomorrow night, anyways.” He closed the peephole, leaving them in darkness again.
“Thank you for your reports, private Buckler, back to your post,” the officer finished before walking off at a more brisk pace.
“Safe from the attack?” Brighteyes echoed in a whisper.
“Do you think Spectrum is okay?” Sunfeather asked, her voice even lower.
They heard a distant door open then close in the hallway, then the guard's hoofsteps storm over to their cell, slipping the peephole open again.
“I got to have all the fun I wanted with Brighteyes before you ruined it – but now with all these charges against you, nopony will ever believe you – so cry and accuse all you want, I'll laugh to myself as they ignore you and cut off your screams with a noose! They stole the fun from me a few minutes ago, but I'll get the last laugh, you two!” he hissed at them. “Buckler! Remember the name of the pegasus who sent you to the gallows! I'll be there to cheer on as you kick!” He slammed the peephole closed.
They both hugged eachother as he hissed his angry rant, then they heard his hoofsteps storm a few steps away. “C-can he not open the door without permission since I'm not shackled?” Sunfeather asked, her voice afraid.
“I-I don't know... Do you think he'll do it? That they'll hang me to death this time?” for the first time since they met, Brighteyes asked a question.
Sunfeather wasn't sure how to respond. “I – I...” she took a deep breath. “The governor saved me once... They were going to... to do this same thing to me because I couldn't work very hard because I was just so tired all the time – but she came and saved me! She didn't let them do it! And she won't let them do this, either!”
“What if – what if she didn't survive the attack?” Brighteyes asked, her voice quaking. Sunfeather could feel her body shaking in her hooves.
“I know she did. Nightgale would never fail to protect her.”
“You may have defeated me now, Ironhide – driven off my cultists, broken my horn – ” Astilbe snarled at the pony next to her on the stage, her voice crescendoing into a cry “ – but my cult will live on!”
The crowd of pegasi and earth ponies behind the tall, dark gray armored leader cowered behind him, but he stood strong.
She stood upright on her hindlegs on a stool, her forelegs tied to her body over a thick cloak, and a noose around her neck, the rope leading up to a fake tree above her. She turned to face the audience. “but your descendants will never be safe! -” the crowd gasped at the direct address, then starting boo'ing her as she continued. Her voice raised to a desperate cry to be heard over their jeers, “the other unicorns will never cease this winter until the world is snuffed of life! They will all perish in endless winter! There is nothing-”
“QUIET!” the leader shouted, and kicked the stool out from under her.
The noose tightened a little, but it wasn't nearly enough to actually choke her. She felt herself hang from a harness hidden under her cloak. Before the play she'd made sure, herself, that the break points were weak enough that if the harness failed, the rope would break, not her neck.
Both stood strong, but she thrashed and writhed, anyways, throwing in the occasional sputter and gag. She'd seen enough actual hangings to mimic the more theatrical ones well.
She knew she was doing well when she felt little tugs on her actual noose by crew backstage making sure the line wasn't actually taut.
The crowd cheered. And as she stopped struggling and rested limp, their cheers finally stopped as well. The armored pony stepped forward. He turned around to face both the audience and the crowd of his followers on the stage, dressed as medieval peasants.
“We have silenced her lies for once and for all!” He had to pause to let the cheers from the audience die down. He put his right hoof to his breastplate, looking up to some point beyond the wall and roof of the theater. “As long as we stand united, together and strong, we will prevail! But the war isn't over, yet. Though we shall fight valiantly in all our days to root out and slay these scum like Lionhead -” he gestured towards Astilbe's dead character, “ - who would end all life on this world with their evil unicorn's winter – they are so many and so well hidden, it may take generations.”
He sharply turned towards the audience as the flag of The Order of the Hatten Vanguard unfurled behind him against the backdrop. His dark gray wings spread in a proud display. “So it will be to our descendants to carry our torch of life on, against those who are corrupted by the evil of magic, to remain unified against the dark as we have, to do their duties, to stand strong and valiant against evil, to silence and drive evil's perverse lies off at every turn, that one day – one day they will end the winter and bring spring to Earth again!”
The crowd gave a standing ovation with wild cheers.
The curtains closed.
Astilbe took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry,” the actor in armor apologized quietly.
“No, no, it's okay, I asked for this role,” she answered, wiggling a little to adjust herself in the hidden harness under her cloak. She played dead again as the curtains opened for curtain call.
When the curtain call was finally over, and the curtains muffled the applause again, she felt herself lowered back to the ground as a pulley squeaked above her, letting her sit on the stage.
The gray armored pegasus walked over and began to untie her, “well, you did such a good job they probably thought we used an actual prisoner for a stage execution.”
“You can't give a prisoner lines and acting lessons, you know,” she remarked.
“Well, you did such a good job they probably think we did. But, you know how they are with historical plays.”
“Unicorns and their allies never take a bow...” she recited.
“Yep. Because that part hasn't ended yet.” He finished untying her. “Fantastic job in the battle scene, too.”
“Thanks.” She stood up in front of him, stretching her limbs and moving them around. “Yep. It's not over yet,” she said with a knowing smirk, making her way backstage with the crowd of peasant ponies.
“Mares and Gentlecolts,” an announcer spoke to the audience. His voice was also muffled by the curtains, but loud enough to still easily make out from behind them. “In just an hour and a half, you can see the real war continued and won to this day at city square, where murderers and unicorn sympathizers are meeting Lionhead's same fate. And be sure to grab a complementary copy of Ironhide's journals -” he kept talking, but by that point she and him were further behind stage and had stopped listening.
Her ears twitched, ever so slightly. She was glad she was so good at acting, because nopony could see the wave of sorrow that crashed over her at the announcer's words.
The director's debrief and congratulations felt hollow. Her mind was elsewhere. No bows.
It was one thing when she was just acting, and could return to her life after the play.
But the ponies the announcer talked about wouldn't be acting. There would be no safety harness for them.
As the director finished his short address, everypony headed off to change into normal clothes and began to make their way home for the night. But her and the gray pegasus remained. There was a friend in the basement she wanted to visit – even spend the night with.
Nopony was left except herself and the gray stallion. They walked downstairs together, to the room their guest had taken residence in.
“Couldn't the propaganda at least try not to be so cheesy?” Astilbe asked.
The stallion laughed, shaking his head. “Well, you know how they are. When you think everything is so black and white... So, why did you take that role, anyways?” he asked.
“I dunno – I think that once I started thinking about it, I just couldn't stop. I guess – I just believe I'll end up that way for real some day,” her ears wilted. She looked at him and continued as they walked downstairs, “the scary part isn't dying or choking – it's that everypony just lets it happen. They want it to happen. I just don't get that. Why would everypony be so mean? How can they hate other ponies so much?”
“Oh,” his voice gained a quiet respect. “So, it's like a sort of a... 'facing your fears' kinda thing?” he asked.
“Yeah, maybe...” she looked down at the floor as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Her ears folded all of the way down, and she faced him again. “How can ponies be like that, Steelwing? How can they hate each other that much?”
“Well, they honestly think unicorns are that evil. With all they've been told every day of their lives they have every reason to think that. And who doesn't want to be the hero crusading against evil?” He started walking down the hall.
She followed, glanced at him, then bowed her head again and kept talking, “it really makes me wonder about Clover's journal, though. Is it even true that ponies can end the winter through kindness?”
She faced him again, sounding desperate for an answer, “They can't even forgive an actress for playing a role in a play! How are they gonna all forgive each other over this whole winter, and all the terrible things everypony has done to everypony?” she asked.
“Well, it's not that they don't forgive you – you didn't do anything wrong playing the role, it's just – you know, the message it'd send if you took a bow after playing it...”
“But that's not the point!” she enthusiastically objected, “How can they forgive eachother when they're like this? When they do things like go and cheer on at real executions?” The energy in her voice faded.
“I – I don't honestly know,” he answered, shaking his head. “But we've got to believe it. Maybe it won't even be this generation or the next that really ends the winter, but ponies are... I think it's possible for them to be better than even they realize.”
“You think?” she sincerely asked.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I think they have the potential to make a wonderful world – they just don't realize it.”
They stopped as they reached the locked door to the science equipment room. “Well, I'm not so sure. I – I thought I understood ponies. But I'm not so sure I do, anymore. I - ” she curled her lip in a grimace as she put a hoof to her neck, remembering the rope and the jeering ponies. Then she felt a hoof on her shoulder, blinked, and faced him.
“I think you should probably start playing a different role...” he gently suggested.
“Maybe you're right...” She sighed and sat down as he took his hoof off.
“Well, you know... me and the others were thinking, and... we can send you to Bastion,” he whispered.
Her ears perked up, “R-really!?”
He nodded. “Me and the manager have considered it. We really care about you. And honestly, well - … we're not sure you're so cut out for this kind of thing. What you did with the whole Twilight incident, and with a new agent of Icewind learning your identity...”
“I said I was sorry about Twilight!” she answered pleadingly.
“It – it's not about being sorry. It's about – we have to depend on each other to each be – well... more careful.”
“I know I was reckless! I won't be reckless like that again!” she begged.
“Astilbe.” He got much closer to her, put a hoof on her cheek and looked straight into her eyes. “It's not about you being a bad pony or anything like that. It's about letting you go somewhere safe, far away from all these games of life and death. We don't want you to get hurt. I'm worried about recent events, and especially worried that you think you'll get executed someday.”
“B-but, I want to be here! I want to help ponies -”
“But that's not what this is about. This is about helping sometimes, yes, but killing a lot of times, too – doing nefarious and dark things to undermine The Order. It helps in the long run, yes, but we don't help by helping, we help by hurting The Order, and I'm not sure you quite get that.”
She was left speechless. He continued, “You'll be able to help in your own ways, all from the safety of Bastion, no less.”
She hesitantly, shakily nodded. “O-okay...” her voice began to break as she bowed to face the floorboards again.
“I – Astilbe? I thought you would be happy...” his voice was sympathetic.
“Wh-what do you mean? I am happy,” she quietly answered, looking back up at him with a weak smile.
He pulled her into a hug, his wings spreading around her. “Oh, Astilbe. We can talk about this, okay? Just... promise me you won't do anything rash, okay? We're all on your side, here.”
“I – I do want to...” she wasn't even sure why she was crying, herself.
“It's okay,” he consoled her with a pat on the back, rocking her slightly. “We all want to be a part of something great, here. I'll tell the manager you really want to contribute. We'll see if there's anything you can do.”
“I... I d-don't think it's that... I think... I want to stay with Pinkie Pie. Can you send us together? And promise me one day you'll come back to Bastion, too?” she added.
“We'll see what we can do,” was all he could say.
She knew it didn't mean a lot – it wasn't very likely.
But it meant a lot to her.
After a few more minutes, she finally broke the hug, and he spoke, “well, compartmentalization and all. Can't let Pinkie see my face, still. For both our good.”
She nodded understandingly. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.” He turned around and began to walk away.
She sighed.
I think...
I think the reason I'm so sad is because he's right.
I'd miss him at Bastion, but... Ponies aren't going to stop doing terrible things, are they?
Is it really hopeless to just hope I can tell them – or show them what's wrong and they'll be nicer? Can't I just tell them that there's no evil group of ponies making the world this way?
He's right and I'm only now realizing it.
Ponies are terrible. I'm just incredibly nice – no, naïve and young and stupid.
They're not creatures that will all just suddenly forgive and forget and drop their grudges...
“Her name was Lionheart, not Lionhead,” came a condescending, confident female voice from behind her. Astilbe shot around to see a pony with deep purple fur, and an even darker purple mane. Most of her body was hidden under a navy blue cloak. The fringes of the cloak and hood had elegant and intricate violet and lavender patterns that had an enchanting primordial wonder to them, and on her forehead, was a horn.
“T-Twilight?” she asked in disbelief.
The unicorn chuckled, shaking her head. “No. Do you want to see how it really happened, little pony? Almost a thousand years ago?”
Astilbe's eyes were wide, she was suddenly alert and on edge – trying not to be hostile, but she couldn't hide her surprise or fear. “Who – who are you? I know unicorns aren't actually evil, but...”
“If I wanted to harm you, you would be dead where you stand. Rest assured, I will do you no harm,” she said. “As for who I am, I am nothing more than a forgotten child, from a forgotten era, forsaken by the Dear Mother of my kin.”
“Then – why? Are you from Bastion?” she asked, calming down, but only slightly, and remaining on edge.
“I am not from Bastion, and my reasons are my own. But if you need them to agree, then I may provide a few,” she patiently, yet guardedly explained.
“I – so you're not one of our contacts? If not I'd like to know why you want to show me... what that play was based off of?...”
“Yes, those are the events of which I speak. And no, I am not one of your 'contacts',” she replied levelly again, “I want to show you because though your mind is as lacking as any other, your heart has a familiar tear – an injury I know of in another whom I care deeply about. For you, that was no mere act, but a projection of the anguish of your heart. If you wish to learn the true story of Lionheart, then I will hold a candle to the honors and respect she deserves by showing you her story. Those who seek the truth shall find, if it is not some story to vindicate their bloodlust, but truly the tragedy of the truth that they seek to know. You deserve the truth not because you are intelligent, wise, or significant to this pathetic world, but because you refine yourself against the truth, rather than twist the truth to some lie you desire it to be.
“You should consider yourself fortunate you happen to be so near to events I have taken an interest in, Astilbe, and thus you have come under my watch, so that I may discover your heart and its injury, and this leads me to show you the truth shrouded behind and underneath almost a thousand years of lies and ice, and yet more glorious than it all.”
“I – I...” she hesitated, cowering.
“You will find the answer to the question you ask. You wish to know the depths of the injustice your kind can carry out? If you truly wish to know, I will show you, along with the valor and determination of the spirit of my beloved elder, and the honor and tenacity of my kin.”
She sighed, steeling herself. “Okay. I still don't know who you are, or what you want – but you said my heart has a tear you care about. I – I can believe that.” As she looked in the unicorn's amethyst eyes, there was something about them that she trusted.
“Good,” she simply said, no malice nor dark enthusiasm in her voice, “then let us go, and you shall see.”
The floorboards melted away under them, the walls and roof dissolving in an invisible wind, and a grassy hillside covered in a patchwork of snow came into view under a twilight sky. A sharp, cold wind welcomed them to a forgotten world.
Ever since the adrenaline rush had worn off, Twilight’s mind had descended into confusing, tired depths. But she had to keep going, Nightmare Moon wasn't far behind. Nightmare Moon? No, I don't think it's Nightmare Moon that's chasing us... Why are we walking again?
“Rarity-”
She felt a hoof on her shoulder as she blinked her eyes open. Looking up, she saw nurse Redheart standing over her – she was the pony who had a smaller one on her back. She quickly noticed wing-sleeves on her outfit, though. Not nurse Redheart?
Twilight was laying on her side on the ice. It took her a few moments to realize that Redheart's lookalike wasn't the one helping prop her up. Looking around, she saw Rarity standing next to her.
The pony asked something in a language she didn't understand.
“Medic Gratitude asked if you're alright,” Rarity relayed.
“I – I can be in speaking Delphinian,” Gratitude said to Rarity, then turned to Twilight. “Are you in understanding my speech?” Again, it was the accent she didn't recognize.
Both sets of concerned eyes were on her.
“Yes, I can understand you... mostly.”
“Mostly is good,” the medic seemed relieved, “Can you stay in walking?”
Twilight's head pounded. Her thoughts swam in a nebulous fog. “I... I don't know.”
The medic leaned in, raising Twilight's hood slightly to look at the bandages on her forehead. She bit her lip, a deep look of both worry and pity coming over her at what she saw.
While she inspected Twilight, Rarity huffed, took a necklace off and offered it to Gratitude. “Just put it on her,” she said.
Gratitude turned to her, paused for a moment, thanked her, put it on Twilight, then turned towards the front of the convoy. When she spoke, Twilight noticed it sounded strange – she heard the words in their original language, but somehow understood them fully. “Seargent, if we can, I advise we stop given Twilight's condition. How far have we gone? Fifteen, twenty miles? She needs rest.”
She turned back to Twilight; “How long ago did this happen? This looks... badly infected.”
“Uhm... I don't know... Is it?”
A fresh wave of worry poured over the Nurse's face as she took a boot off and felt Twilight's forehead. “Can you try to remember? Do you trust the governor to tell the truth on how long it's been?”
“No... Well – yes!... Uhm... I trust the governor... Rainbow Dash? No... I don't remember how long it's been. At least a day or two?”
The nurse bit her lip, then turned back to the sergeant. “She's not going to be able to keep going much longer. She's in worse shape than just the crash.”
He looked over the team, eyes darting from one to another as they all faced him, waiting for his call. Rarity sat down next to Twilight the moment they'd stopped, her injured hoof lifted slightly.
The sergeant's own back was over-encumbered with gear. “Can she walk another step?”
The nurse turned back to the alicorn.
“Uh... Yeah. I can... just a little,” she croaked.
“Then we keep going,” he answered decisively. “It's not much further.”
Gratitude paused for a moment, looking back at Twilight. Rarity helped Twilight back onto her hooves, and they all began walking again.
With no method to keep time, and her mind in a confused delirium, it was impossible to tell how long they had walked when the Sergeant finally ordered a stop, and had them begin setting up their tent at the base of some icy cliffside.
Everything seemed to move in a confused blur. They waited outside the tent while Gratitude and the little pony went inside, but she didn't understand why. In the distance, the sergeant and the pegasus stallion worked some radio.
Then Gratitude finally let them in the tent. There were warm coats and blankets over her, and she was lying down. The nurse stood over her and said some nice, soothing things. Rarity sat over her looking concerned. They hugged. She finally laid down and slept.
That was all she could remember before shooting awake again, finding herself alone in the tent with Sweetie Belle, who laid next to her in some warm, drab clothes, also under a thick layer of blankets, and wearing Rarity's fire ruby peytral.
“S-Sweetie Belle?!” she exclaimed.
The younger pony sighed, and spoke again in the language she didn't understand. “{You recognize me as} 'Sweetie Belle', {too?!}”
Twilight sighed back, then paused for a moment. “Or... maybe you're just another one of these weird copies... At least the others spoke Equestrian. Why are you wearing Rarity's fire ruby, anyways? It's a bit big for you. She gave it to you, right?”
Sweetie Belle kept lying down – just moving a forelimb enough to tap herself, “{Snowglade},” and again, “Dawglees.”
“Douglas?... Well, Douglas... Dawglees, I guess you can't tell me where everypony went if you don't speak Equestrian...” She looked around the empty tent. “Or maybe... Rarity? Where's Rarity?” she asked, looking around the empty tent some more.
Although she didn't understand what 'Dawglees' said, she could understand her sad tone. “Rarity? {I honestly don't know where they went. I just hope they get back soon... and without fighting too much}.”
Astilbe collapsed onto the wooden floor just outside the door of the room Pinkie was locked in. She trembled.
“I am sorry the truth is so bitter. But let me ask – now what shall we do? Would you follow in the footsteps of Lionheart? Or do you desire justice for what you have seen?” Jewel calmly asked her.
“Why!? Why – why did they do that!? She didn't even fight back – couldn't they see she wasn't trying to hurt them!?” she cried.
“You know why. Because some of them were afraid. Because a glorious and kind leader would rob them of power, and they didn't trust her to handle the power well. They didn't believe she could save them. But most of all because they saw her as a threat to their unrighteous dominion,” she explained.
“How – how could they all be so blind! She – she was only trying to help but he – they!...”
“Poisoned her fruits. And this is the burden I have carried for almost a thousand years, little pony. Knowing your world was formed from the ashes of such intolerable, inexcusable sin. Like hungry wolves your kind prowls for victims. But I respect her request. I honor her promise to not give your world what it deserves. But let me ask you this – if this will never end, if this is the nature of your kind, then shall it continue? Would the end not be a mercy to it and its horror? The time is soon upon us for the righteous to inherit the Earth. But first The End must come. How does that feel, Astilbe?
“Every day this tragedy I have shown you is repeated a hundred times. Has the time not come for these horrors to end? Nevermind whatever answer you may speak. Your actions and choices shall answer for me.”
Astilbe just kept crying on the floor for several long minutes, before she finally realized the unicorn – Jewel – had been silent. Blinking her eyes clear of tears, she looked around. She was alone again.
She sat up on her hindquarters.
H-how did that hit me so hard? I've seen public executions before – I've seen ponies die. But that... I knew her. I could feel that she was a good pony. And she worked so hard for them...
After another minute to calm down, she finally regained herself enough to remember what she was doing. Sniffing, she got a key out of one of her pockets, and finally opened the door to the science equipment storage room.
The room was meant to keep state-of-the-art machines for science for shows of wonder occasionally put on at the theater. It was kept under lock and key to keep the expensive equipment safe and out of the wrong hooves. But now it housed another secret, one kept by what the state would've called “the wrong hooves”.
As she opened the door, she jumped backwards as Pinkie greeted her – as usual, wearing the loosest, comfiest and fluffiest clothes she could find – a pyjama dress too big for her and a lounging robe over it, “Hey! Thank goodness you opened the door it hurt so bad – it was so hard to hear you crying out there and not be able to give you a hug!” She darted forward and wrapped Astilbe in her hooves.
“Oh! - oh. Thanks, uh, other me.” Her expression softened and she returned the hug.
The emotional whiplash hit hard, but it was difficult to be cold next to such a warm pony.
“It was so hard to be quiet the whole time but you said how important it was to never make a peep in there when there are ponies around no matter who it is and a Pinkie Promise is a promise I'll keep!” she emphasized with another squeeze of her hug. “So what's the matter, someone could've saved the world?” she asked, her tone softening to something more gentle.
“She – she was making food that could grow – Or at least trying to – in ice, in the night, if only... It was complicated, but... they...” she hesitated, looking up at the huge, innocent eyes of her Equestrian counterpart.
She didn't want to hurt them with what she'd learned – the truth of the role of the pony she'd taken on the stage.
“What did they do?” Pinkie pressed.
“N-nevermind that, just uh...” she averted her eyes for another brief moment, then looked back at her, “they – ponies can be terrible sometimes. I've dedicated everything – I've put my life on the line a lot – and it'll probably end me one day – how I keep risking myself to give them the truth, to help them break free of what they do to each other – but maybe... what if they don't want to break free? What if they just – they just refuse to be good enough for spring to come?”
Astilbe let go of the hug, then put her hoof up and started steering Pinkie back into the restricted room where she was safe.
“Well that's silly,” Pinkie answered, “of course ponies are good enough to not have the windigos constantly ruining everything. Just look at Equestria! We solved that a long time ago!”
Astilbe closed the door behind them and paused. Twilight was incredibly powerful and an alicorn. So... that means they really are from Equestria, right?
But if ponies behave like how Jewel showed me – then – is it really possible for them to be good enough for Equestria to happen?
What's wrong with the ponies in our world that they're so much worse?
Pinkie piped up again, interrupting the moment of silence, “Oh, uh – I had something for you, if you just wait one moment...” she began a happy, skipping canter around a wall of equipment, machines, and crates of supplies that blocked the door from view of the rest of the room.
Snapping out of her thoughts, she realized Pinkie was practically bouncing around. “Uh – shouldn't you take it kind of slow?”
The peppy pony immediately stopped, she turned around to look at Astilbe, as if considering her words, then suddenly her pupils shrank. “Oh right,” she said in a squeaky voice, gritting her teeth. “It doesn't hurt much at first. But it hurts a lot more very quickly when I go spronking.”
Astilbe rushed over to help brace her. She offered a hoof, and let the recovering pony lean on her. “Spronking?”
“Yeah. The fun way to walk. I'm sorry I'm being such a party pooper...” she apologized, her ears folding down a little further as the other mare helped her walk around the wall of storage crates.
“A party poo-?” As they rounded the corner, Astilbe stopped talking.
Before Twilight left, she'd requested paper, ink and quills. Pinkie had clearly made use of all three.
Some sheets had tic-tac-toe markings on them. One looked like she'd meticulously copied the board of some board game from a flawless photographic memory of it, with a few smaller scraps of paper sitting around it.
And in the center of the room, a picture of a cake with some candles had been drawn and set on a table that'd been moved there, with pillows on each side to sit on.
Astilbe couldn't even remember there being a table in the room, but given the cluttered mess that lined the walls, it didn't surprise her that she'd found one.
“Wh-what is this?” she asked in disbelief.
“A party!” Pinkie said with a grin beaming through her wave of pain. “I heard a lot of loud applause upstairs so you must've done a good job at the play! And I never got to thank you before for taking me and my friends in!...” her excitement melted into sorrow on her last few words, before she shook it off and revitalized, “So uh, surprise! Thank you for saving me and my friends and letting us stay somewhere! And congratulations on a great performance! Are you surprised, are you, are you!? What role did you play, anyways?” the words poured out in a stream of excitement – and she could feel her bouncing, even as she leaned against her.
“Uh – yeah, I'm – I'm definitely surprised,” she answered honestly, her voice proving the truth of her words. After what she had just seen with the unicorn – it was hard to greet the surprise party with the joy it deserved. But instead, it did something else. She felt something sharp and painful within her melt away – as though she were waking up from a nightmare, her mind began to relax.
She felt weak again – but now for the opposite reason as before. “So – how do I – we...? - wait, this must have really hurt you to make!” Her look of surprise was renewed.
“I've been drawing these ever since you told me you had a big play today! I'm sorry I don't have any actual cake or anything, though...” she apologized. “But the board games and tic-tac-toe will still work!”
“So – is that why you've been moving around so much you hurt yourself? Is setting all this up?” Astilbe pressed.
Pinkie averted her look, her grin taking on a nervous look. “Eheheh...”
“Pinkie, I – … Well that explains that! Earlier you said you were fine and now you're hurting again! You over-exerted yourself, didn't you? Moving the table and your mattress around?”
“Mhmm.” She nodded, her nervous grin turning into a guilty frown.
“Well, I'm glad you're not hurting just from moving around again... You should be careful. Not even my medical-practiced friend could figure out why you were hurting after what happened. We just don't know anything about unicorn magic medicine. But...” she paused as she saw the innocent pony's joy melt. Guilt stabbed at her for lecturing her.
She turned and gave Pinkie a gentle hug. “Thanks for setting this all up for me! I love it! There's a little kitchen in a break-room. Do you want to bake a real cake with me? Then we can play games and have a little slumber party if you like.” She gave her alternate self a smile she thought she'd appreciate.
She deserves it after doing all this for me.
“I'd love to!” She beamed back.
Astilbe could tell there was something deeper to the smile, though.
I'm sorry. It must feel so lonely to have come here with two friends you spent all your time in this room with, and now you're all alone...
“Okay, but if we run into the janitor or anypony, you gotta let me do all the talking, okay? We'll pretend it's some sort of makeup act or something to make us look just like eachother,” she briefed her Equestrian friend.
“Okay!” she nodded, then paused. “But uh, your mane isn't quite as poofy as mine!” she pointed out.
“That works even better, silly filly. Now come on, let's go bake a cake!”
Maybe ponies can be terrible.
Maybe the world can be a horrible, horrible place...
But you're not. And I'm not going to let them distract me from you when you need me.
And maybe I need you to remind me that sometimes...
ponies aren't so bad.
It was the sergeant's turn to be on watch.
As he stood just outside the tent, looking around, listening, the constant cold wind trying to chew through his thick coats, he thought.
We haven't seen a patrol aircraft yet. I doubt they aren't searching – it means we're still outside their search front. They'll roll over us far too soon.
The Victoria's been hit, and can't pick us up.
We have too few supplies to make it back on hoof.
If only those wizards had re-discovered the secret of teleportation, we wouldn't have this issue... the idle thought passed by.
No matter. Rarity claimed Twilight could do all kinds of powerful magic, but that means little now that her horn is gone. We just have to make it back to Bastion, and maybe all this powerful magic stuff will be enough to change things.
He shivered as he remembered the still, open, lifeless, frozen eyes of Iron Star's body on the ice.
He could imagine Snowglade's just the same.
Just as still as she'd been when she was shot.
We have to get back to Bastion. But we don't have the supplies to make it like this.
There's East Shades just to the north, but it's right along the railway, and doubtlessly the operating base of the escort and search operations.
No, I'm not going to risk their lives in a pointless raid. We have enough supplies if we had two less ponies. The last bit of the journey would be a stretch, but they could make it back to the nearest base.
I know some interrogation techniques. If the governor will talk, I'll make her talk, and we'll get everything we need out of her. But Twilight and Rarity may be even more important to the war, and capturing the governor alive was only secondary. Killing her still removes her from her office.
And if I don't, we'll all starve to death, anyways, or won't have the energy and warmth to make it back alive.
As for the second pony... I can't ask any of them to die.
But maybe my time has come. I'm in charge. They can't tell me no. I can put Clockwork in charge and order him back to Neighagra camp. If I break off and attack the East Shades airbase alone, it will make it look like the attack was conducted by a single agent – myself. They'd never think a Cerulean sentinel team would break up. It's unheard of.
I could even carry a snip of the governor's mane or something of hers to prove I killed her. Maybe even her head. It would resolve the entire Vanguard's search – they'd have their governor, and the one who killed her. And my team would be safe.
His heart began to pick up pace as he thought about committing to the plan.
Is this it, then? I guess it's finally here. It's finally time.
I can finally die as they did.
I lived, and they died, and now I can die as I should have – right alongside them in combat against The Vanguard. It's the closest I can give to an apology. I can't forget them. I will never know peace until I die as they did – I'll do it as an apology that they died and I lived.
I owe it to them. A leader should never ask his ponies to do something he wouldn't do, himself. It's because I didn't kill some random civilians that they died. I won't make that mistake again. But it won't even be an innocent pony, this time. I'll squeeze what I can get out of the governor, report it to my team, then head off on this suicide mission of diversion. I'll even carry some supplies – I have to make this look believable.
What about the tent? I'll take some of the extra poles from ours and the bedsheets. Hopefully that'll be enough to look like some strange Cerulean camping technique.
So that's it, then.
It's time to die, governor.
And after that, I can join those I left behind.
And Snowglade, Clockwork, Gratitude – they can go home. And so can Rarity and Twilight – and maybe even end this terrible war so no more ponies have to die like this.
So it can all finally be over.
He nodded to himself.
It's the only way to get them home alive, and losing another team is not an option.
The tent was stuffed now with the two new ponies – mares were piled on one side and stallions on the other. It made it unusually warm, so fortunately all the blankets were enough to make up for the lack of extra sleeping bags.
The trace of some horrid smell still lingered. When they'd first set up the tent, Gratitude wanted some time inside alone with Snowglade before letting the rest of them in. So they waited outside while the sergeant yelled and cursed at some radio equipment with Clockwork.
Normally Rarity would've complained endlessly at the trace of the stench that was some mix of blood and outhouse, but she didn't have the energy now – and she didn't want to complain about something that was there only because Snowglade was still alive.
While it wasn't nearly as comfortable as her bed in her home portion of Carousel Boutique, Rarity found it surprisingly comfortable to sleep in a group – all the while feeling Snowglade's gentle breathing by her side.
She could feel the governor sleeping in a sleeping bag next to her, near the middle of the tent, and Twilight who she laid mostly on top of.
Normally, she would've been uncomfortable at the violation of personal space, or complained at how she could feel the rope that tied the governor sharp against her side in her sleep. But everything considered, she was just thankful to rest, and comforted feeling safe in the tent with her friends.
They'd put the governor in a sleeping bag then tied it down, trapping her hooves to her sides and trapping her inside – not that any attempt to escape or grab one of the rifles wouldn't have woken everypony up, anyways, given how crowded the tent was, but the sergeant was adamant about the team's safety.
Rarity woke to the feeling of an icy wind washing over her as the door zipped open, and the rustling of thick winter gear made it clear it was another shift change – only this time, the pony didn't immediately take off the heavy gear and beckon somepony else.
Instead, she heard him rustling through some supply bags, before feeling the rope at her side slide away.
At this, her ears perked up. She groggily rose and turned.
“Up and at'em sweetiecakes,” the sergeant whispered, rousing the governor from her sleep by shaking her shoulder and calling her by the mocking nickname.
She looked up at the sergeant, “what's going on?” she kept her voice low while everypony else slept.
“We're going for a little walk,” he explained, his voice a little more cheery than usual in an unsettling way. She sensed there was a darker veiled meaning behind what he said. He held some basic clothing for going out – boots, an under-jacket, one of the newly acquired blankets, a scarf and a hat.
“What... for? Can I come along?” she asked groggily, slowly coming to her senses as the governor yawned and sat up. It's painfully difficult to wake up without sunlight... But I want to make sure he doesn't do anything, given how badly everypony was talking about this version of Rainbow Dash.
“You need to sleep. But you,” he addressed the prisoner, “are going to put this on and come with me.” He tossed all the gear at her hooves.
Spectrum had one ear up and the other limp, with her head resting at a slight angle. Clearly exhausted, she took the boots and started putting them on. After yesterday she'd learned better than to ask questions or object.
“I – I can't sleep while she's out and about. So why don't I come along?” Rarity pressed.
“Because I said no,” his tone gave no hint of any uncertainty.
Rarity simply pursed her lips. “Hrm.”
He looked straight at her, then put a hoof on Clockwork's shoulder, rousing him from his sleep as well, “Lieutenant, keep an eye on Grandeur. I need you to make sure she stays in this tent while I'm gone, understood?”
He sprang up, “Yessir! - keep Grandeur in the tent, will-do.”
As he spoke, Spectrum finished putting on the coat that had no wing-holes, only for the sergeant to throw a rope around her body and tie her wings down underneath the coat.
Clockwork took his rifle, and started working with the fire-sleeve to strap a pistol to his hoof.
“It's not like you didn't clip her wings already...” Rarity mumbled.
“I don't need your commentary, Grandeur,” he shot back at her as he worked. As he finished, he pulled a loose slipknot over the prisoner's head. Her eyes went wide and she went stiff on seeing it. She felt the rope around her neck with one of her forelegs.
“Don't play with your leads, little pegasus, or you're going to have an even worse time. Now lead the way,” he commanded.
She looked back at him, fear in her eyes.
Rarity's unease was only made worse – the governor wasn't fully dressed for the cold. The jacket was a light undercoat.
She felt her heart racing as her need to act battled her fear and respect for the ponies who had saved her – to whom she'd made a promise to obey, and whom she doubted she could overpower. At least, not while he's still here... She glanced at Clockwork. He already had his rifle ready and pistol on his hoof for the sudden watch duty.
At seeing the prisoner's reluctance, the sergeant spoke again, “you want to see what happens if I have to ask you again, little princess?” he threatened, his voice seething.
She shakily started zipping open the entrance, “I-I, I'm going.” She hurried out, and he followed close behind, all the while the freezing outside air blew in, making Rarity and Snowglade both shiver before the sergeant closed the door behind them from outside.
Rarity looked down at her hooves. Her forehoof still had the enormous, terrible crack in it from her arrival in this world. Will I ever walk on it again without a limp?
Will this other version of Rainbow ever fly again?
“You know she's a mass-murderer, right?” Clockwork whispered to her.
“You and the rest of your team only said as much a dozen times last night...” she responded as quietly, but her irritation obvious.
“Well you keep seeming to sympathize with her. I don't get it. He could torture and rape her for all I care -”
She visibly recoiled at the suggestion, disgust on her face as he continued,
“Well, maybe the latter would be bad form, but she deserves a lot worse than that. No matter what he does to her it can't be what she deserves. I really don't think you understand what terrible things she's done.”
She looked down at the floor of the tent, her ears slightly folding as she pondered what he said. Could that really be true? I've never thought much about it. If ponies commit crimes – well, usually there's something wrong with them and they need correction – to be locked away until they're better so they're safe to live among ponies again. But... Equestria may have done away with killing ponies – but have these ponies done the same?
There's no doubt the ponies back in that city I came from wanted to kill me and I haven't even done anything. I assumed these ponies were better because they saved me – but – maybe they're not as great as I thought...
She hesitantly asked, “You – you don't think he's going to?...”
“I'm not gonna guess. Not my place,” he simply answered.
“Is it possible? Why – what did she do, exactly?” she pressed.
He scoffed. “Of course it's possible. He might be giving her a medal for all we know. But that's unlikely, to say the least...”
- What's unlikely, the medal or killing her? -
“and what does it matter the details of what she did? Mostly she froze huge numbers of innocent ponies to death out here in the abyss, by the train load. You ever seen a pony freeze to death? Now imagine that but for almost two hundred thousand...” he mused.
She shivered, her eyes suddenly going wide. N-no, Rainbow would never! I don't care if it's some alternate version of her or what – Snowglade wouldn't do that, and neither would this 'governor Spectrum' – they must be mistaken!
Then he glanced at her horn. “And if things were different, and you were her prisoner, she'd have you publicly tortured and then executed to entertain a crowd. That's what The Vanguard does with unicorns. Sick freaks.”
She simply bit her tongue instead of speaking out. She knew a thing or two about manipulation and discretion. She wasn't going to reveal that she still planned to escape.
Her disturbed look faded as she steeled herself to set to her task. I could say I need to relieve myself, but he might still not let me out of the tent. She shivered at the thought. Camping in Equestria wasn't like this.
Camping in Equestria wasn't like camping with an army at the north pole in winter, either, though... a more rational voice replied, only to be promptly ignored.
At any rate, if I ask now, it'll be too obvious... But what other choices do I have? Seduction? In this crowded tent? The mere thought made her feel sick.
She felt what to do next, more than planning or thinking. After a moment of thinking to herself, she lowered her head, her ears folding back. “Oh...” Her voice heavy and her expression sad, she looked to him again. “But perhaps you've realized by now that that's... Well, I remember her as an old friend. I only wish I could at least tell her goodbye. I don't remember her as a killer at all. Just a... very loyal pony...”
He simply looked at her, cocking an unimpressed eyebrow.
This isn't working! Wait a second! - “Wait – then what are all these rifles for? Aren't they for killing ponies? And didn't I...” a memory flashed back – she remembered hearing the gunshots in the train attack. They must've killed somepony there.
He answered in a flat, factual tone, “They're for ponies who would kill us all. We only use them to survive against The Vanguard's tyranny. Some things – like being under their rule – are worse than death. But what she did? Totally unnecessary. Unarmed stallions, mares... All on groundless accusations or because they said things against their occupation of Delphi. They invaded, slaughtered, and then slaughtered again just for good measure.”
I – I don't believe that! I don't think for one second Rainbow Dash is capable! He isn't budging, and I'm running out of time! Ugh, what am I going to do!? I could try batting my eyes and begging, but – would that really work better than the other lame excuse? She hadn't applied makeup in days, and she could feel her mane was a total, greasy lost cause of a mess that made her halfway consider shaving it and wearing a wig when she got to Bastion.
“Well, uh, just so nervous thinking of what he'll do to her out there – I do somewhat need to use the uh, little filly's room.”
“The medic already showed you how, I know,” he stepped to the corner of the tent to start rummaging through the bags, producing the thin curtain, funnel and a container they used for at-night necessities.
She took them all out of his hooves with her magic, a slight blush coming over her with a small uncomfortable laugh as she took a careful step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, uh, I'd kinda rather not do it over sleeping ponies, so uhm, do be a dear and uh -”
“Then use the corner. Just don't cover up the entrance or I'll ask Snowglade to watch you.” He moved to the more crowded side where Twilight and Snowglade slept. Snowglade laid on top of Gratitude, since she was smaller, injured, and they had physically run out of room in the tent.
“Oh, uh, well, the corner's much too small – but really, Snowglade is injured and needs -”
He reached down, pausing before he shook Snowglade's right shoulder, and just tapped her head, instead. “Specialist, you're needed.”
“H-hmm, yes?” she asked, sitting up and awake.
“I've got explicit and direct orders from the sarge to make sure she stays in the tent, but she insists on using the funnel by the entrance to the tent, so keep an eye on the mare, for me?”
Well, if anypony is going to let me go, it's her.
Snowglade nodded. “Yessir.” She carefully, painstakingly slipped off of Gratitude without waking her up by rolling into the space Rarity and Spectrum had left open.
She'd slept with the peytral on. Her breathing was less strained than last night, and she showed little sign of her earlier injury. She maneuvered closer to Rarity, then looked up at her. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go ahead and set the curtain up.” Despite how quickly she'd sprung off of her living bed, it was obvious from her voice she was still exhausted and eager to get back to sleep.
Rarity groaned, using her magic to unfold then hook the curtain on the tent's roof poles.
Now that she and her sister were outside of the pegasus guard's view, she turned to Snowglade and nodded her head towards the exit.
Her otherworldly soldier of a sister just gave her a deadpan glare and shook her head, and pointed her hoof at the accessories she'd been given; the funnel and container.
Rarity began to fume and re-emphasized the motion even harder.
Snowglade groaned. “Ugh, I thought – yeah, Gratitude showed you how to use those, right?” she asked.
“Uh – yeah, just...” she put a hoof to her lips, signaling for her little sister to be quiet, and silently mouthed, “I have to escape to save Rainbow Dash.”
The unicorn soldier sighed and firmly shook her head.
“Fine!” Rarity snapped back as her patience finally broke, her magic tearing the curtain out of the clothespins holding it up, “but I've had enough of this! I'm not letting him hurt her!” she finally burst out, no longer whispering.
In another fell swoop, she pulled her set of winter gear out of her bags, using years of experience with garments to magic them all on herself in an instant.
“Yeah, you are!” Clockwork shot back with a stern yell, raising his pistol at her, the rifle laying at his hooves.
Rarity turned around and froze. It wasn't a rifle where she could easily take the tip and point it away with telekinesis – she wasn't even sure if he'd shoot the moment she tried to grab it, either, so she froze.
“Hold it, lieutenant, I'm not losing Grandeur again – I don't care if she's 'just' Rarity, or who or what threatens her – don't you dare shoot her!” Snowglade fiercely defended her sister with a growl, putting herself in front of the gun's muzzle, then breaking into coughs immediately after yelling.
“Snowglade!” He reached a hoof out to her, while his other still held his gun pointed at Rarity.
She smacked his hoof away, her ears flat against the sides of her head, tears in her eyes. “Why comfort the pony you're about to kill, huh?”
Rarity just looked at what she'd started with horror, now fully dressed in her heavy winter gear. She couldn't back down and simply let another pony close to her die in the cold – even if it was an otherworldly version of her friend accused of terrible things – but she didn't dare move towards the entrance, either.
“You are WAY out of line, Snowglade! What the buck has gotten into you!? Your body wouldn't even stop the bullet!”
“Is THAT the first thing you think of, Clockwork!? Fine then, kill us both! But if you kill her, you're killing me, too! You didn't have orders to execute us both, did you!?” She broke into another fit of coughs. “B-but if you shoot me or her...” She began floating her own rifle with her magic, and pointing it at him.
“GRANDEUR! PUT THE RIFLE DOWN!” He bellowed.
“SILENCE!” Gratitude screamed, sitting up, instantly grabbing everypony's attention. “Have you all gone mad!? What's going on? Lower your weapons, both of you!” she sternly demanded.
Everyone was wide-eyed to see the quiet, gentle pony of compassion and mercy barking orders at them. Every ear was folded, but now folded in submission rather than anger – except for Gratitude's.
They complied, no longer pointing their weapons at each other, but still holding them.
“Sergeant Fate gave me orders to keep Granduer in the tent, and she's trying to escape to go after him because he took the governor out on a walk,” he explained to the medic.
“He was going to shoot Rarity! I'm not losing my sister again!” Snowglade protested.
“Then we'll tie her up -” Gratitude glanced down at the sleeping bag they'd kept the governor in. The rope she'd been tied into it with was still coiled on top of it. The sound of the entrance zipping open made her look back up.
Clockwork was aiming his gun at Rarity as she lept out the entrance.
Snowglade was responding in kind, pointing her own, held in her magic, at him.
Gratitude dashed forward, knocking Clockwork's pistol upwards as it fired.
“Wh-what are you doing!?” he protested, struggling with her as she refused to let him aim back at Rarity. “These are my orders!” he yelled, and started fighting with her.
After a moment of struggle, he managed to pin her down with both hooves, leaving neither to work the gun.
“Clockwork, let me go and give me your weapons, medical orders, Abyss madness protocols,” she said from underneath his pin. “As of this moment, I outrank Celestia. Now let me go and give me your weapons!”
“You're a pacifist! You won't even use -”
“That's the point!” she asserted, “You know entire teams have been lost to Abyss madness, so are you going to turn in your weapon, or are you going to shoot me, too?” she asked sharply.
The last hint of aggression in his posture melted, his ears flopping a little less, from showing a willingness to fight, to showing humiliation. He stepped off of her, and took the pistol off his hoof. “I won't step out of order, sir,” he dutifully reported.
By now, they could all feel the cold air coming in the tent from where he'd shot it. “Then patch up the tent,” Gratitude ordered, then turned to Snowglade.
Snowglade was whimpering, shaking and sniffing, tears running down her cheeks.
“You're not to touch any weapon with your magic, understood, Snowglade?” Gratitude asked, her voice quiet but stern.
“M-mhm... - uh – y-yes, yes.”
She put a hoof on the younger pony's shoulder, who then met her blue eyes with her own hazel green.
“I – I almost... I -... The safety...”
The medic looked at the rifle – the safety was still on. She looked back at the pony's teary face.
“I – I tried to – but – but the safety – but I tried to! Will I – is that a court martial? Will I be banished? Executed?” She broke into another fit of coughs.
“Snowglade, Snowglade,” she comforted her, patting her on the shoulder, “You didn't try to shoot him, okay? You're just confused and panicked. Just calm down. We'll just get back to the Victoria and you'll spend the return trip on a soft bed in medical and – ”
“Didn't you hear?” Clockwork interrupted. He was sewing a patch on the tent, not turning from his work as he spoke. “I guess you were tending her injuries while I worked the radio... But we'd be lucky if we got to worry about court martials right now. But I'll tell you what, Snowglade. Don't point a weapon at me ever again and I'll forget about this. But next time you point a weapon at someone, load it first.”
Snowglade just blinked, then looked back down at the weapon. She didn't dare touch it, though.
“Just learn from this, okay?” Gratitude asked. “It's most important we keep working as a team. I'd... be willing to forget this if you two can just work together from here out, alright? Because if you can't trust each other again, nopony will be reporting this to anyone except The Vanguard, anyways.”
“Great, that's us two, now what about Grandeur?” Clockwork asked.
“We're going after her...” Gratitude gave Snowglade one last pat on the shoulder, looking into her eyes, then reached over to her pile of winter gear. “But we have to hurry, clearly. But I'm keeping your rifle and you're giving me a better explanation while we go. You'll get your rifle back if I think any Vanguard patrols are nearby, but you're not going to try to take it from me, alright?” as she finished talking, she turned around and handed him the essentials of his arctic clothing.
“Understood,” he affirmed, taking the garments, then rushing to put them on as quickly as possible.
She started doing the same. “As for Snowglade – Snowglade, you're staying here to watch Twilight. I'm very, very concerned that all of this didn't wake her up, especially the gunshot. This definitely isn't normal sleep, but she was delirious last night, so it may be one of her injuries. Try to take care of her. But I have a strong feeling I'm needed more outside.”
Snowglade just nodded. Her breathing was unsteady. “C-can you promise me... You'll return with Rarity?” she asked.
Gratitude paused her dressing to look at her, concerned. She took a step closer. “Do you think we will?”
“I – I... I really hope so.”
“Me, too, Snowglade. And I think we will, too. But you'll have to wait to find out, won't you?”
“Yeah...” Snowglade looked back at the rifle on the floor, her voice sounding hollow.
The medic returned to putting the heavy winter gear on. “Just don't shoot us when we get back, okay? Things can look weird in the darkness of The Abyss,” she added. “And just watch Twilight.”
“Of course.” Snowglade replied again, looking up at Gratitude, then back down at the rifle. “Of course.”
Governor Full Spectrum shivered. The scarf, wrapped in just the right way, might keep her snout and ears from frostbite, she could only hope, but she knew what she'd been given was inadequate to survive in.
Not for long, at least.
Her wings were clipped, stuffed under a coat not made for a pegasus and tied. She couldn't stop wondering how exactly the sergeant was going to kill her, leading her along by the slipknot as he was.
He always made sure the line wasn't too slack – always glancing back if she accidentally caught up to him too much, and often glancing back to make sure she wasn't up to anything, anyways.
She wasn't, and hardly even felt like trying.
She felt as though dying by some hostile sergeant's hoof, lost in The Abyss was better than some publicly humiliating show Icewind might've put on for the ponies of Delphi, at least.
And either was preferable to continuing her reign.
After all she'd done to citizens of the occupied Delphi dome, it felt right that her death would happen without a great fanfare, after she'd sent so many to deaths carried out with such nonchalance.
Since the train wreck, she felt she was living on borrowed time, anyways.
After several long minutes of walking along the bottom of the cliff, he finally led her to the base of what seemed to be a natural scaling point. Just a dozen yards to the right, the ledge leaned outwards, creating a slight natural overhang about a half dozen yards tall.
He loaded his rifle. “Run and I'll slit your guts on the ice,” he simply warned, taking her lead in his mouth as he climbed the short ledge. When he reached the top a few moments later, he started pulling her lead in.
Her heart raced as she started hurriedly climbing the same spot he'd just climbed. She didn't dare ask if he'd give her more slack if she slipped, or if he'd just hang her there.
She finally made it over the ledge, panting as she sat on the ice – it was painfully cold to the touch even through her nightgown, but her sore legs demanded she rest, even if only for a moment.
She looked over at him, her ears flat against her head and shivering. “W-what do you want? Is this where you'll kill me? Is that what we're h-here to do?”
“If this were about justice, you'd be tortured first. But no, this is about the safety of my soldiers. I don't believe they'll keep looking after they find your body. It'll be much easier for them to pull some innocent unicorn out and blame them.”
“And w-what if it only angers them to search h-harder?”
The sergeant let out a hearty laugh. “As if they actually care for you! The only reason they'll make any show of your death is to make you a martyr, and rally support against us. They want you dead,” he taunted.
She faced the ice, breathing deep and hard, trying to control her shivering. “I – I know that...” she looked back at him, an intense earnestness in her face as she stood back up on her hooves and warned him, “I-I won't bother your time with any begging or nonsense, b-but listen – th-the airbase just down the railroad f-from here has... key technology you'll n-need... to-to survive these next weeks.” Sergeant light's eyebrows twisted with surprise as she kept talking, stammering and struggling to talk through her shivers, “O-Our engineers have developed engines that c-can f-fly above anything you could h-hope to shoot down. There's a flight-ready bomber, eh-even. Usually they keep those... in... in the special operations hanger. It's being called project 'Blue Moon'. I-I hope your unicorns had the g-good sense to take the enchanted e-emerald necklace from my train. P-put it on my body, then on one of-of your soldiers, and put them in one of my nightgowns. If they say the bomber is needed, nopony will question them. You must take the bomber to Bastion... and let its engines be r-reverse engineered.”
Her shivering began to slow and give way to labored breathing.
“Why are you telling me this? You'll be dead. Do you think I'll spare you if you keep giving me information?”
She shook her head. “No. Because I... Because I'm not so sure anymore...” Her voice dropped and she faced down into the ice again. “Maybe my entire life was just a lie – maybe the unicorns aren't the cause of this winter. What does it matter? I'm dead now. And if I'm right?... Then bring down The Order anyways.” She looked back up at him, the ferocity of the cool determination in her voice matched only by the spark in her eyes. “Let the world fall. It doesn't deserve to continue in pain like this... Give it a mercy killing from this torment.”
He simply looked at her, surprise over his face for a long moment before he came to a reply. “I must admit...” he said slowly, with newfound heaviness. “I was expecting cowardice... But you still deserve more hell than this.”
She bit her blue lips and sat down, her strength failing her. “So... If you stake that end down... I'll walk off that ledge for you,” she nodded towards the shelf to her right.
He scoffed, “Hah, not going to ask me to break your neck or slit your throat?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head, looking down yet again. “I... I think you'd agree that's how I should die. On the end of a noose.”
“Hah!” His voice raised with amusement. “You show your true colors! You have some kind of perverted enjoyment of that, don't you? I read our file on you before this mission – even to us it was obvious you liked to see ponies hang! No, I intend for you to die differently than that...” he pulled out a knife and started approaching her. “I'll enjoy this, you know, doing it to a monster like you...”
“No...” she mumbled, her voice turning into a cry as it picked up volume again, “I want you to do it that way, because it's the closest I can come to an apology!” And yet she didn't even flinch at his approach – she was making a demand, not begging for her life.
All humor fled his voice, and he stopped his menacing approach; “What?”
“Enjoyed it?... I relished it for awhile,” she muttered, her voice picking up speed and passion, “Then I started to realize what I was, and I wanted to die then! I can't forget them. I will never know peace until I die as they did! I have to die like they did, in apology that they died and I lived!...”
Her voice mellowed to a murmur. “It's only fitting that I die the same way they did. I owe it to them. A leader should never ask her subjects to do something she wouldn't do herself, Pa said. I had them executed. Frozen, stabbed, hanged... I'm freezing, here. I-I don't know if I'd even feel a stab I'm so numb...” Her breathing grew tense. “B-But my lungs will scream for air all the same...”
His eyes were wide, his voice pensive. “They died, and you lived?... And now you want to die alongside them?” Scarred memories of his lost team echoed in his mind.
“What are you waiting for?!” She cried, hunching over and putting her forelegs over her head. “Just end it already! I can't get them out of my head! Why did it have to be them, and not me!? Why did I have to kill them to save my comrades? What is this abomination of life!?” She stomped the ground furiously before falling down and breaking into sobs.
He sat looking at the frostbitten, crying mare in disbelief. She hadn't flinched at imminent death, but she collapsed at the mere thought of her executions. He thought over his next words carefully; “I had the option of killing some civilians once. My entire team died because I didn't kill them. At the time, I told myself; 'I'll never be able to live with the regret of killing these innocents,' so I took that chance. Now I can't live with the regret of letting them live, and my team die. But seeing you... maybe I picked the better regret to live with.”
She merely looked at him, disheveled, ice forming on her mane and tail, and her tears freezing on her face.
He continued, his voice level. “Like I said, this isn't about justice, this is about saving my team. Celestia show mercy on our souls.” Solemnity filled his voice. “Farewell, governor. Perhaps we were wrong about you. But maybe not. But it will all be revealed, some day, in a world apart from this one. Perhaps I will see you again under the Azure Sky, perhaps even soon...”
He walked behind her.
She couldn't control her panicked, broken breathing.
He bit the end of the rope tied around her throat, put his hoof on the back of her neck, and yanked with his might.
Her crying suddenly cut off.
She tensed, stretched, and as the agonizing seconds wore on, began trying in vain to writhe under his grip, hopelessly gasping for air, nothing but a few tiny, strained sputters breaking through. She finally gave in, going limp under his vice-like grip.
Rarity searched for agonizing minutes in the darkness. Her horn gave a gentle glow, not of visible light, but of arcane energy, giving off an otherworldly luminescence as a blacklight. Only unicorns could see the faint glow of magic, and it is with this glow and her ears that she searched the base of the glacial ledge.
It was only a dozen hours ago they'd hit a hornet's nest by attacking the Governor's Train. The lack of any patrols they'd come across since she saw the fireball fall from the sky was deeply unsettling.
But she still wasn't sure whether she was hiding more from them, or from the sergeant as she searched around the bottom of the small cliff. She didn't want him to find her before she found him.
It was eeriely silent, but her ears perked for a moment as she thought she heard some indiscernable noise far away. She rushed in that direction – only to realize her bootsteps on the ice were too loud. Thinking quickly, she simply magicked her boots off and continued in thick wool socks. She could feel the biting cold without the boots, and the glacial ice was challenging at times, but altogether she was thankful to now be able to run quietly.
She galloped, the air rushing by her ears and her own harsh wheezing and pounding heart deafening her. Her heart never slowed, but she stopped every few minutes to listen for any more sound, and heard nothing. Finally, on her third stop, she heard distant voices – and even from so far away, even distraught and some otherworldly version of her – she recognized Rainbow's.
She cantered more carefully – the sound she hunted for was like a precious jewel in the darkness, and she didn't want losing control of her breathing to drown it out. It wasn't long until she heard it break into a cry – then be abruptly cut off.
Certain she'd heard it just around the corner, she galloped, only to find more empty cliff base.
She scanned the area as carefully as she could see it, thankful for the better dark vision her blue eyes gave her. A sloped area caught her eye as she noticed chips of ice missing. Scuffs on otherwise smooth protrusions with a discernible, clear pattern. Like a cross-stitch where a design had called for a blanket stitch, the minor detail stood out to her like a sore thumb, an unnatural break in nature's pattern.
Her blood now pounded in her ears deafeningly, her panic made her body light, and she could feel her magic coming to life. She had never climbed so quickly, skillfully, or quietly. Her injured hoof panged in fresh pain as she used it, but she entirely ignored it, knowing seconds could save her friend's life. Soon she clambered on top of the ledge, and with a few steps up a steep incline, she saw the sergeant cinching a rope tight around Rainbow Dash's neck with all his body's strength, while a hoof held the back of her neck to push her throat into the rope.
For the two seconds she froze as her mind realized what was happening, she noticed Dash wasn't even struggling, but was lying limp.
She felt an avalanche of fury crash over her as she shouted, a telekinetic wave of desperation blasting the sergeant off of her dear friend, at the same time a more finesse touch yanked the rope out of his mouth and loosened it.
The governor rolled on the ground, coughing and wheezing.
Rarity pinned the sergeant's limbs to the ice with her magic. He looked up at her from lying on his back. Her magic sparked with such ferocity it glowed to visible light, casting a blue glow over her face and tufts of blue hair visible from under her hood and face-scarf.
“Grandeur!?” He gasped. “What the buck do you think you're doing!?”
“It's RARITY!” she corrected with a shout.
“Keep it down, you idiot! Did you forget we're being hunted!?” there was an urgent panic in his voice.
She lowered her voice, but the ferocity still sizzled within it, “no, but you seem to have forgotten my name is Rarity! What were you doing?! She wasn't -”
“Keeping you alive! Don't you even realize -” he talked over her, but she didn't even stop for him.
“-even struggling anymore! It hardly makes sense to keep choking a pony after they've passed out unless you intend to kill them – so I don't think this was some 'mere' interrogation!”
“No, I was killing her! Like she's done to hundreds of thousands of innocent ponies!”
“As if making it a hundred thousand and one makes any difference – assuming she did! I'll hear it from her, thank you very much! Because I know her and I know she wouldn't just kill for fun – even if she did kill somepony, then it'd be for better reasons than you're killing her – and I don't believe she did!”
He kept struggling against her magic – she fought to hold him down. It began to be clear to her that she had taken a challenger stronger than her magic. The extra strength her passion had granted her wouldn't last forever.
She could feel her ears folding back under her hood – and he seemed to notice and react by fighting ever harder as he continued to protest, “Don't you get it!? She's a threat to all of us – the longer she lives the more danger we're all in! I'm protecting you – saving your life like we did when we found you!”
“But that doesn't mean you can just murder my friends!” she shouted back at him, panting as she had to constantly shift her magic to whichever limb fought the hardest at that moment.
“No, but her being alive – her putting us in danger does! I was going – I am going to kill her, then make an assault on East Shades without all of you, then they'll think I was a lone assassin, and they'll stop looking for all of us! Look – we don't have the rations to make it back to Bastion! You, your friend we rescued – Twilight – Snowglade – you're all dead! You're all dead unless at least two of us die, and the Governor deserves it, and I choose to make that sacrifice!” As he finished speaking, he managed to push past her magic entirely, jumping onto his hooves.
She recoiled back with a yalp of surprise as he raised his rifle at her.
She used what little strength she had left to push the barrel to the side.
He immediately pushed it back, now gripping tightly enough to resist her nudges. “Stop this at once! Stand down and submit and you and I both walk away from this alive!”
“Then stop pointing that at me!” she cried out.
He complied, lowering and deflecting his weapon to the side. “Okay, but not a step closer!” he warned.
She blinked in surprise through teary eyes. She was too far to charge him before he could shoot her, but close enough that he wouldn't miss. Shaking, defeated, she sighed and bowed her head.
His voice was now far more calm than either of theirs had been, “I know it's hard for a little jewel like you to take, but it's either her life, or all of ours, and -”
Both of them were distracted by the sudden sound of bitter, pained laughter.
They looked over to see the shivering governor, rope still around her neck, sitting hunched over just a few feet away. Her laughs broke into crying as she started shaking her head. “That's what I said – that's what ponies say, isn't it? It's one for all, it's one for all...”
“Piss off,” he said, turning to her, “I didn't give you permission to spea-”
He'd stopped looking at her. Rarity took advantage of the moment, galloping towards him in a mad dash, a final flare of telekinetic energy keeping his rifle from pointing at him with enough surprise and vigor to buy her the second she needed.
She yelled as she lept to tackle him.
Dropping his rifle, he parried to the side, shoving her onto the ice and pinning her as she fell in one smooth motion, using her own momentum against her.
She felt a hoof pressed against the back of her neck, another land next to her throat, and a menacing voice in her ear as she struggled with what little strength she had left.
“Listen here, buttercup, one good kick right here and you're dead, you understand? I could stab you with my knife, slit your throat, choke you out, or break your neck in three different ways, and I'd kill you right here and right now to protect Snowglade, Clockwork, and Gratitude, but I'm feeling merciful today. Now that's twice I should've killed you – I should've shot you a second ago, and I should break your little horned skull or neck right now – and give me one more reason to and my patience will run out and I'll do it. Got it?”
She went limp and started sobbing. “I – you – you can't kill her...”
“I don't know how badly your memory's been screwed with but that pony would torture you to death without a second thought. Now don't make me regret saving your life more than I already do. Your word means nothing to me anymore, so stay where I can see you, and remember this.”
She felt the hoof push harder on the back of her neck, her entire body straining, shaking and panicking as the pain grew sharper. She whimpered. “N-no, please! I'll – I'll stop, you've - ...” she paused, her desperate pleas suddenly growing weak. “You've won.”
She let herself go limp underneath him. Only then did he let the pressure off. “Good. Now you recognize it. In case you haven't noticed I've literally carried you to survive out here. But don't forget Snowglade, Gratitude and Clockwork come first to me. And Full Spectrum deserves nothing less than death.”
She started sobbing again as he stepped off of her to unpin her.
“This is exactly what Nightgale did to Twilight, isn't it?” the governor muttered as she shook her head.
“Can it!” He snapped at her, before turning back to Rarity, now helping her up. “Now tell me – did you sneak off? Where's Clockwork? I set him to look over you to make sure this didn't happen.”
She reluctantly accepted his hoof and sat up. Her voice was shaken and subdued. She didn't face him, and instead spoke down into the ice, “I – I got away. He... he almost shot me a-and...”
“And?” he pressed.
She looked up at him, “I guess he's chasing us now?” even beaten into submission, she was able to catch herself before she told him that Snowglade had pointed a rifle at Clockwork to protect her.
He put a hoof on her shoulder, pulled down his goggles and looked straight into her eyes. “Look, miss, it's ugly, but this is the real world. I'm doing what I can to make sure you and your sister get home alive. But whoever you think this pony is, she isn't her. Snowglade at least recognized you, but this pony doesn't, so she's someone else entirely. If you want to talk to survivors of her purges, you'll have plenty of opportunity to see Spectrum deserves this when you get back to Bastion. But you don't have to watch this, okay? Just stay somewhere I can see you, and stop trying to do things that will get us all killed.”
She just looked at him, nothing more than some pitiful look of sorrow on her face. She wanted to hate him – but for some reason she couldn't make herself. All her fury had melted into something else.
She looked over at the slouched figure sitting not far away. The prisoner wasn't even shivering anymore, and seemed to slouch ever further in her posture as the minutes wore on.
Rarity called to her, “Is – is it true? You – you didn't...” when we got her off the train, she didn't recognize her name.
But neither did Snowglade!
But Snowglade recognized me... it dawned on her, her eyes widening as she realized the night they'd set up camp, just a few hours ago, when they'd finally been allowed to speak a little more, she'd been so pre-occupied with helping Twilight's poor health, and they'd been in such a rush to eat and get everyone to sleep she'd hardly spoken with Dash – but what little she had interacted with her, the Governor looked on her with something more like apprehension and disbelief than recognizing an old friend.
Snowglade was shot in a forelimb, and Twilight has a concussion and an infection in her injury. I was so distracted by my injured friends...
Rainbow just looked blankly at her for several long seconds before finally speaking, “I – I recognize you only as the unicorn who got away – who I refused to let Icewind fire a – a shot on, because... because there were innocent ponies there... But I don't know your name.” She shook her head.
The sergeant scoffed, “hah, what's a few civilians for the safety of your dome? You killed two hundred thousand, why not ten more?” he mocked as he approached her again.
“It – it's... It's not like that...”
It was clear from her voice that she wasn't fully awake.
Rarity's heart picked up pace and intensity again as he approached the prisoner, grabbing the lead to her noose, and standing on the far side of her so he could see them both from where he sat.
“I don't get it, but I'd rather leave it at that than lose another team.” He yanked the rope tight again.
The governor gagged.
Rarity cried.
His last two words sparked something in Rarity's mind. It all made sense now.
“Keep it down!” he snapped at Rarity's crying, then softened slightly, “You're the one who came out here, miss. I'm sorry you had to see this. I didn't want you to,” he explained while one hoof held the governor's neck, and the other pulled the rope tight, even as she writhed, but only weakly, under him.
She wept for her friend – maybe it was some alternate form of her that bleached her mane and did terrible things – that seemed forced and routine in this world – but her last words had made it clear she cared about innocent lives, and his words made it clear he was afraid of losing those he cared about.
And both were willing to kill ponies to get what mattered to them. To see the ones they cared about safe.
And so the world froze, and the windigos laughed.
Before she even heard the bootsteps, the sergeant had let go of the rope and had his rifle pointed in the direction they came from.
Full Spectrum cursed and cried as she coughed and wheezed again.
“Sergeant!?” a sweet, familiar voice popped up.
“Gratitude!? What are you doing out here?” he lowered his rifle.
“Me and Clockwork are looking for Rarity,” she explained before her voice took on a dark, fearful tone, “but what's this?” she asked, approaching the group in a brisk trot.
Rarity noticed Clockwork following Gratitude.
“Stay back – it doesn't concern you,” he warned.
“No, I think it does. This team is in a greater danger than Vanguard patrols,” she warned back, walking straight towards the coughing, crying, and shaking governor – only for him to stand in her way.
She stopped in front of him.
“Go back to camp, medic. This doesn't concern you. You have your jobs, I have mine.”
She stood her ground for several long moments, before her shaky voice started reciting something from memory. “But please, dear reader. No more than that blade on blade – never blade on neck, or blade on their begging hoof -”
“Don't you dare quote Clover's journal on me,” he growled.
She continued, “When the lines of the bloodthristy are broken, when they are defeated and bid for peace –”
“You are out of order, corporal!” he shouted.
“The army respects my oath as an Adherent, and by my oath – by my duty as a medic I must remind you!” she started quoting again, “When they are defeated and bid for peace, you are but a monster worse than they if you deny them mercy-”
“How dare you!” he snarled, pounding a hoof, “How dare you compare me to her! She's not some random civilian, she's thegovernor of Delphi – of an occupation! She killed more innocent ponies than you or I can count!”
She continued, her voice picking up passion and confidence, speaking with the assurance that generations of great ponies stood behind her, “Please, I beg of you! We, your ancestors, all beg this of you! Though the fire of friendship brings warmth against the cold, the fire of fury burns they and you alike, until there are none left but poisoned ashes.”
“This isn't the same damn thing, Gratitude! It's either her or us! You don't even know what's going on!”
Rarity, the governor, and Clockwork all just looked on wide-eyed at the ideological war in front of them, as she recited scripture and he cited necessity.
She was smaller than him, weaker, but she spoke with confidence, passion and urgency, “Fields of death, strewn with deranged beings have come of this hatred. Your corpses will all freeze together if you let hate consume you, even for the hateful.”
“This isn't hate – this is survival!-”
“-The endless cycle of blood for blood will never be broken, and the world will go silent of life if you cannot forgive even the most heinous of crimes.”
He continued where she left off, his voice now more cool and controlled, “ – though not making yourself vulnerable to them. That is the next line you omitted. I'm not doing this for revenge, medic, I'm doing this because if I don't, we will all die.”
“That's what she said, too,” she nodded towards the governor behind him, then looked straight at his eyes, “you and I both know there are fates worse than death, Sergeant Courageous Fate. If we can't find any other way, so be it. I'll even let you kill her – but let us talk about it, first. And until then, I'm not going back without her, alive.”
Rarity spoke up, stammering in disbelief, “You-you would bargain your own life for her? Even – but don't you believe that she?...”
Gratitude nodded, turning to her and quoting again from Clover the Clever's Journal, “This world will be in need of light. The light of dawn is real and tangible, as is the warmth of summer –” she turned back to the sergeant, “-yet they will come only from the warmth of heart, and the light of your soul, which are known to spirit only. As the heart is the birthplace of action of the hoof, so will the heart be the birthplace of dawn before the hoof feels warm grass upon the Earth again.”
They could hear fury buried in his voice. “Medic, Lieutenant... The Victoria's been hit. They pulled out. We can still catch up to them if we go now – and if there's two less mouths to feed on our team. Rarity and the Alicorn may have magic to win this war. They're not worth this governor. And neither are either of you.”
Wait, Lieutenant?... Rarity thought. He called him that earlier, too, didn't he?
“Then let's talk about it in the tent,” Gratitude firmly stated.
“You'd never agree, it would make you all complicit, the alicorn-”
Then Rarity realized, “You outrank him, Clockwork! Why don't you-”
“Because he's in command of this unit! I'm under his command while I'm on this assignment -” he turned to the sergeant, “but I'm not afraid to say you're just stalling because you know she'll freeze to death while you argue with Gratitude about it. This isn't a mistake. But Gratitude has promised her life on the Governor's. Sir – I advise we talk about it in the tent, and not face whatever Gratitude will do if the governor dies now. You know why they sent a pilot, sir.”
“The Anvil contingency is a suicide mission meant to make us feel better if we're stranded, not a real exfiltration plan! This is why we can't talk about it in the tent – because you'll actually believe it's possible!”
“Sir...” She leaned forward, ears tight to the side of her head in an aggressive posture to the taller stallion. Her voice cooled, but remained strong as steel, “She's dying in this cold, so do to me what you will.” Gratitude began walking around sergeant Fate.
He turned and grabbed her, then leaned into her face, “Gratitude, I could pin you down, tie you up for disobeying orders and being a danger to the team, and drag you back to the tent, leaving the governor dead out here, do you understand? You will not, and you cannot counterman me.”
“And if I declare you medically unfit for Abyss madness?” she asked.
“And you, Clockwork?” he called out loud enough for him to hear over his shoulder, keeping his eyes on Gratitude. “Who would you side with?”
A gentle breeze billowed across the ice.
“...Protocol would dictate I stand with her, sir... At least, in this situation, where her claim would be... believable.”
Another long moment passed.
“Sir, if you don't let your hooves off of me...” Gratitude started.
“Then I've lost control of my team. Your fate is in your own hooves now. You two better not get yourselves killed, okay? You've got Snowglade and these civvies to look out for, too. Clockwork, assist Gratitude with the governor, and tell me if she dies, that's an order, understood?” He took his hooves off the medic.
She rushed over to the governor.
“Yes sir!” He ran to help her.
Rarity felt a weight lifted off of her. She stood up, and also rushed to the cyan pegasus lying still on the ice.
“So... your plan was a suicidal charge at the base, with evidence you'd already killed the governor, and some token supplies, hoping they'd think you were alone?” Clockwork asked the sergeant, incredulously.
They all sat in the cramped tent. As soon as they had gotten back, with Snowglade's permission, Gratitude had taken the fire-ruby peytral and put it on the deeply hypothermic governor.
Snowglade had wheezed and hacked, and even started turning purple – so Gratitude quickly returned the peytral. But even the few seconds it had been on the governor made the difference. Her state was still dire, but now she was savable.
Snowglade was left exhausted, so only idly listened in while getting back in her sleeping bag, wearing the peytral again.
Gratitude and Rarity sat on either side of Governor Spectrum, all three wrapped in the same blankets and down to underclothes, sitting with the lamp next to the governor's head. Rarity still wore the translator necklace.
“Proof, not just evidence,” he corrected. “And it's the best shot we have for all of you surviving. The Victoria's come under attack and had to retreat. We would've had just enough supplies to still make it back, if it weren't for the two extra hitchhikers we have,” he nodded towards Twilight and Rarity. “One is an alicorn, so that goes without explaining, and the other has an incredible story that could give us knowledge to change the course of the war – and an incredible artifact to back up her tale. Snowglade also thinks she's her sister, so killing her isn't an option, and leaving her to die is even less of one.”
“But what about you?” Gratitude asked.
“That's my choice to make,” he said.
“No – you're the only Earth pony here. How will we carry the radio kit?” Clockwork asked.
“You're strong. And you're not carrying the weight of the explosives anymore.”
“No, you mean how 'would' we carry the radio kit,” Gratitude corrected, then turned towards the sergeant. “Be that as it may, he can't carry his load and yours. And I need to help Snowglade.”
“She was in bad shape, but she looks like she'd be able to walk if she can keep the necklace on,” he glanced at her.
“Peytral,” Rarity corrected.
Sergeant Courageous Fate continued, “and I'd take what you don't really need. This tent only absolutely needs half of its poles. The lamp only makes things easier for our unicorn, but it's not really necessary, either, you'd just have less time with light at night, dimmer light, and it'll wear her out more to have to do more heating for water. You also don't need the flare gun or bowls, just heat the cans. They and the change of clothes are luxuries -”
“No, if it weren't for the extra clothes, Snowglade would have nothing to wear at all. Only her socks were still wearable without major sanitation and thermal issues from being wet,” Gratitude objected.
Snowglade's ears flopped and she looked to the side, blushing.
“No shame to Snowglade, but if you encountered another patrol on the way back to the Victoria, I doubt you'd need clean clothes to change into. Search patrols are far larger than the few guards we snagged in the train car,” the sergeant said.
“And then there's Twilight's head injury,” Gratitude added, looking at the hornless alicorn. The alicorn was awake, but it was evident she was only barely awake. And with Rarity wearing the translator necklace, she could only understand what her Equestrian friend said. “We don't have enough antibiotics for her. They cut bone with unclean tools. This is extremely serious. We used so much medicine on Rarity and Snowglade, and with how long it'd take us too long to get back to the Victoria, especially with it retreating now, we just don't have enough left. And I don't expect everypony to be able to march like we'd need to. But Clockwork said something about stealing a plane, right?”
“It's an insane suicide mission meant to give teams with no other option something to hope for while they die fighting. It's not a real mission you ever want to perform when there's any alternative at all,” the sergeant explained impatiently. “There's no way you could expect to sneak into an outpost – nevermind the East Shades Complex – get an aircraft ready for takeoff and fly it out without getting detected, overwhelmed, slammed with artillery, blocked by other aircraft or trucks, getting locked in the hanger – or whatever else they come up with. And then you'd just get intercepted, or shot down by anti-aircraft guns at the place you're taking off from.”
Governor Spectrum looked even more exhausted than Twilight – she struggled to keep sitting up. The chafe marks were still visible on her neck. But she spoke up, her voice as tired and haggered as she looked, “Blue Moon... it's an engine program... Meant to make our bombers able to fly above any interceptors,” The Governor explained. “There's an experimental bomber there, at East Shades. It's flown.”
“And we could fly low out of the airbase to avoid AA fire, then climb when we're further away to avoid interceptors,” Clockwork added.
“And what about getting the plane ready? Nevermind sneaking into the base!” Sergeant Fate replied.
“Twilight, you wouldn't happen to... be able to teach me to do some invisibility spell or something, could you?” Rarity asked.
Twilight shook her head. “No, I'm sorry, maybe if I even knew one, at least...”
The Governor sluggishly spoke up again, “Maybe I have something even better... did you... anypony, steal-get... take, some emerald necklace from the... yeah, the cargo car, by any chance?”
“Snowglade. Didn't you take something from the cargo car?” The sergeant asked.
She bolted up. “Yes! It's right...” she turned and started going through some bags in the corner of the tent. “right... here!” she levitated out the emerald necklace with a small gold chain.
“Emerald...” Twilight quietly commented.
“That's it. It's a shapeshifting necklace. It will make the wearer look... like the last pony to wear it. If one of you look like me... then you can order the 'Blue Moon'... to be prepared for takeoff,” she sluggishly explained.
“And the rest of us?” Clockwork asked.
“Prisoners?” Snowglade offered.
The sergeant shook his head, “We'd have to sneak in the normal way. We don't have any Vanguard uniforms for any of us to pretend to be captors. Also, how do we know you're telling the truth about this necklace?”
“Twilight!” Rarity interjected, then turned to the sergeant, “she hasn't understood a word said so far, except for what I've said, so ask her what that necklace does.” With many years of magic and clothes, she quickly and easily put the translator necklace on her friend.
Twilight blinked with surprise, then turned to the sergeant, “It – should – well, you can do a lot of things, but mostly emeralds are best for spells that modify appearance, forms of prestidigitation. So... it's probably something to do with that.”
“Can you tell me with more certainty?” he asked.
“...no,” she said, her ears lowering, her posture slouching a bit further. “Not anymore.”
“Can you at least assure me it won't lure an army here?”
Twilight shook her head. “A gem that small? Of that quality? It's good, but you'd need something bigger than the fire ruby for something like that. And plus, if it had an enchantment anything near that powerful, Rarity and Snowglade would both be able to feel it. I think I even would, too, despite my horn...”
The sergeant shook his head. “Still too risky. We're not gonna try it. And I'm not going to let any members of my team or the alicorn risk themselves with it. And I don't want to let the governor wear it, either, in case it does something to help her.”
“...that still leaves one pony,” Clockwork said. All eyes turned to him, then to Rarity.
“Twilight, why are they looking at me? You're wearing the translator necklace, I don't understand them...”
“And if it works, sergeant, then will we consider this alternative?” Gratitude turned and asked.
The sergeant narrowed his eyes. “Maybe. Just maybe.”
Rarity blinked at the glaring sergeant, speaking an alien language. “Twilight, will you please give me the translator necklace?”
Rarity trudged through the soft, fluffy, deep snow across the starlit meadow. She didn't notice that she wasn't leaving tracks. She paused for a moment when something clicked in her mind. She looked down at Ponyville to her right, slightly below the horizon. This is that field me and Twilight had that conversation in, isn't it?
It felt oddly fresh in her mind – enough that she could tell this was the field, despite the snow and the blue moon masking the appearance it had worn on that summer night. Well, Twilight may have to worry about immortality and gotten that creepy book from the old castle, but I have to worry about neither! I don't intend to outlive Sweetie Belle by a even a single lifetime, either.
She slipped an uneasy laugh. Outlive her? Why did I use that particular wording? It's not like she's in any mortal danger... Her frightful laugh quickly sank, and a weight appeared in her gut.
She saw a figure in front of her in the distance, wearing a navy blue cloak, fringed with a dark blue and purple pattern. Her fur was a deep purple, her mane an even darker purple still. Only her magic provided a dim glow as she walked through the darkness towards her. Her face was hidden by her cloak's hood.
“Twilight? Amethyst? Is that you?” she asked. “What are you doing out here tonight? Can I help you?”
“I came to talk with you,” she answered, the voice familiar, but different enough that she couldn't place it. “And no, I am not a pony you know already. But perhaps this can be remedied.”
She found herself sitting in the snow next to the cloaked figure, looking up at a brilliant night sky above them, the gentle glow of the milky way visible behind a million diamonds embroidered into the nocturnal tapestry.
“What do you think of this world?” the figure asked.
Something poked the back of her mind, telling her she should ask for this pony's name, but it didn't feel right for the moment. She could feel they were close friends, so she didn't ask. “It's beautiful, at least,” she said.
“It is,” the pony warmly replied, then sighed. “Beautiful, yet tragic.”
In front of them, Sweetie Belle ran through the snow, heading off to their left.
Rarity opened her mouth to call out to her, but nothing came from it. Taken by surprise, she looked to the cloaked pony for help. She could sense something urgent and terrible was happening, and she had to stop her sister – but she couldn't remember what.
The pony lowered her hood. Her snout was speckled with white spots, and she had a sympathetic look on her face.
It came crashing over her – she knew what happened on this dreaded night. She knew where Sweetie Belle was running, and what happened to her – and she knew it had already happened, that there was nothing she could do.
She cried, falling into the chest of the mysterious pony as she put her hooves around Rarity's back in a comforting embrace.
“Why – why did it h-have to h-happen? Why couldn't I have been stronger? Why didn't I chase after her! I even woke up in the middle of that night and didn't see her! I could've – I could've...”
The robed pony simply patted her back.
A long minute passed as she sobbed and slowly regained her breath.
“What - … Who are you?” Rarity finally asked, blinking her tears away.
“You recognize me, yet you do not know my name. I know you and your name. You may call me Veil. And I am a fellow soul, wearied and stricken of this world. Even your world, despite being so much better, has known the tragedies of existence. So, Rarity, what will you do?” she asked.
“I'll – I'll never sew again! I'll -...” she suddenly cut off and her eyes went wide as it sank in yet again, that she wouldn't have a second chance. She couldn't be there for Sweetie Belle again. There was nothing she could do to make it up for it.
Veil gently, sympathetically shook her head. Rarity broke down again.
After a few more minutes of crying, solace and recovery, Veil finally spoke again, “Your tragedy is far from the only one. You were given hope, at least. Many others have none. Some have seen their friends' bodies litter the ice. Others have had their entire families taken away. And others still have learned they were tricked into doing all of these things. What of them and their stories? Is there not a solution to all of this suffering?”
As she spoke, she could feel the world underneath her spin.
“The greatest tragedy is that nopony wanted this,” Veil continued, “yet ignorance, pride, anger – ironically, even fury at those who they supposed to cause it, and self-righteousness in their crusade to set it right – has led to the world being this way. So many have given everything, even their own lives to end the winter – but in their desperation and pride, they've done nothing but make it worse...”
Veil was gone. Rarity saw Rainbow Dash's, Pinkie Pie's and Applejack's bodies all broken and bloodied on the ice sheets – she knew it was her fault – she failed them – she led them here to their deaths. Their bodies had been mauled by a terrible monster.
Then she led Twilight and Fluttershy through the ice again, to the very same arctic sheets. The same savage monster that murdered the others appeared again in front of her. She tried to fight it, grabbing it with her magic and pinning it to the ground – she knew the monster would never relent, never turn around, so she started choking it to take its life. Fluttershy charged at her, tackling her to the ground and holding her back as the monster rose again. “You can't hurt that monster, Rarity!”
The monster charged at Twilight, herself, and Fluttershy. Rarity cried out in frustration at the betrayal, only for Twilight to pin her down as well, even as the beast charged at their turned backs. “No – why are you fighting me! The monster! It's coming! LOOK!” They ignored her cries.
The vision faded. She was panting, shaking her head, but alone again. Then she saw Veil. “Do you understand? Do you now know why your sergeant wanted to slay the Governor, so that the monstrous machines wouldn't kill all of you?”
“No – no! It's – it's not like that! We found a way! There's an appearance-altering necklace – and an aeroplane we can steal from some camp nearby -”
Veil scoffed. “You don't even know what you're talking about, yet in desperation you believe your ignorance over the sergeant's wisdom and experience – the very same one who saved you, you will now lead to his death. This stupid, foolish hope is what let this monster kill your three friends earlier, and you'll let this monster kill the rest of you?”
“NO!” Rarity cried, “Snowglade swiped some gold-set emerald necklace from the train – it's enchanted so if Rainbow wears it, then Gratitude wears it, Gratitude will look like the governor! Then she'll go to the base, steal the airplane, and we'll all fly out on it – even the sergeant! Snowglade, Twilight – and even Rainbow Dash! We won't all die in some horrid book!”
“...you, sad creature, are beyond reason,” Veil's voice was genuinely heavy with sorrow.
Rarity heard the monster prowling, so she turned to see the great beast. Its coat was cyan, its eyes glowing magenta. Rainbow's, Pinkie's, and Applejack's blood were all still on its claws. It spread enormous, terrifying wings.
“This beast isn't Rainbow Dash,” Veil told her.
She turned to the robed unicorn, “I – I don't care! This isn't a beast – it may only be some faint shadow of my friend but I know her heart! She's a Wonderbolt – a monster only to evil ponies who'd fight Equestria, but she's good – a loyal friend to those who are kind!”
The beast growled. She turned to face it, seeing it charge at her. Twilight stood next to her, flaring her wings out to protect her in vain. A swipe of its claws sent her sprawling across the ice, breaking her right foreleg in a familiar and painful tear that pulsed in pain. Twilight fell to the ground next to her, her horn breaking off, her body bloodied and broken. She barely, weakly breathed.
Rarity turned to face the beast again, and instead saw Governor Spectrum standing in front of her in the monster's place. Her magenta eyes still glowed as she prowled, preparing to strike again.
Sergeant Courageous Fate tackled the governor from the side, rope in hooves, and began strangling her.
Rarity dashed forward to save her yet again, crying out, “No! We'll find a way! Together! You can't! You can't! I'll give her another chance!” she finally screamed.
The world spun under her again, the hard ice melting into soft snow, the second vision fading. She was again in the snowy field outside of Ponyville. Veil again stood in front of her, hood now raised, hiding her face again.
She saw a glint of moonlight from below the hood as a tear fell.
“You are a fool to take this risk. A damned, naive fool, and a traitor to those who depend on you. Now go, you damned, stupid hero, learn your lesson!” Veil's voice shook as she turned around.
Rarity felt a hoof on her shoulder startle her awake.
She blinked her eyes open, feeling her soaked cheeks as her senses took in the tent around her. Snowglade stood over her. The younger pony clasped the translator necklace on Rarity with her magic.
“Are – are you okay?” Snowglade asked.
She rubbed her cheeks – half expecting to see washed-out makeup on her hoof, but remembered it'd been days, at least, since she wore any.
Her memories flooded back – last night, she'd gladly tried the emerald necklace, and it had worked exactly as promised. The soldiers had all voted – except Clockwork. Out of refusal to vote his sergeant to his death, Clockwork abstained to vote. Snowglade and Gratitude won.
They would infiltrate the airbase at the East Shades Complex.
Gratitude would pretend to be the Governor. Nopony else could pass a touch-test. The emerald's illusion magic couldn't do that much.
Behind Rarity the curtain that divided the tent in two was already deployed – she could hear ponies changing clothes behind it, and only the mares stood around her on this side of the curtain. Snowglade was already dressed. Gratitude was wearing the nightgown they'd found Twilight in – identical to the governor's – while she helped Twilight into her usual set of winter gear. Governor Spectrum simply sat in the corner, as dejected and tied as she had been since they'd captured her.
Rarity still shook from the dream. “Y-yes. Is it – is it time?”
Snowglade nodded. “Yep. It's time to get dressed. It's a long trip to the complex.”
“You would've woke everypony up with all your crying if you weren't sleeping in. We had to wake you up before your yelling got the attention of a patrol,” Clockwork jokingly added from the other side of the curtain.
“He's joking, there hasn't been any patrols yet. But you can magic everything on in an instant, so we didn't see the need to rush to get you dressed...” Snowglade explained as she began packing sleeping bags away. “Good thing we tested this last night, because it's time to use it,” she chimed as she produced the emerald, gold-chained necklace out of a bag with her magic.
“Oh!” Governor spectrum perked up, turning to Gratitude. The prisoner's sudden energy got everyone's attention, “I'm sorry – last night I wasn't really thinking very well...”
“You're lucky to be alive, nevermind conscious...” The medic reminded her while helping Twilight into the many layers of winter gear.
Spectrum nodded, “Well...” she looked down and away, her ears folding back, before facing the medic again, “Anyways, so I'm only now remembering – they'll want to do some checks to make sure you're not illusory. Higher command is – well, I suspect a lot of them are aware of things like this enchantment. They'll ask you for 'the colors'. They're 'yellow on green'. Just think of wheat growing on a grassy plain. The contingency code is 'hailstorm'. Just remember it takes some real hell to make a governor need to use that code. You'll need that to requisition the bomber.”
“Good mnemonics...” Gratitude commented with a nod. “Yellow on green and 'hailstorm'...” she started echoing to herself, memorizing.
“Hold on!” The sergeant objected from the other side of the curtain, “Are you saying we need these codes or we'll all die – and we're just supposed to trust you that they're authentic? After we tried to kill you?”
“You would've been doing me a favor, really...” she mumbled in response, barely loud enough for everypony to hear. “I told you about Blue Moon. You seem to have known about it already – so you know I'm telling you the truth.”
He didn't respond. The silence was unsettling.
Rarity tensed, halfway expecting him to just kill the governor on the spot.
“Now, now – she uh – she did keep Twilight alive...” Rarity tried to ease the tension she felt.
The governor continued, “I haven't resisted you once, even when you tried to kill me. Either you're right about the Wendigos, and you can end the winter by ending the Vanguard, or this world needs to be relieved of its suffering. Either way, The Vanguard must fall.”
“She uh – she did tell us about Blue Moon, and we already knew about it...” Clockwork pointed out, his voice coming from behind the curtain.
“And?” The sergeant asked.
“Then how would she know if we didn't already know the truth about the color and contingency codes? If she told us a lie, then she knows she could be tortured for it.”
Gratitude turned to Rarity, speaking quietly so as to not interrupt the other conversation, “if you'll get dressed, we can take the curtain down.”
Rarity nodded, and using her magic, was fully in her winter gear within seconds.
Gratitude started taking the thin curtain down, revealing the two stallions of the group fully dressed, armed, and the sergeant looking in their direction.
“And... something else...” The governor hesitantly started, facing the floor. Her hesitance got everypony's attention as surely as her spontaneous energy had a moment ago. She looked up at Gratitude, the fear showing in both her voice and expression, “they... Higher command knows a bit about unicorn magic. They'll know about enchanted items. They might have a domestic servant – the normal ponies who might help me dress in an extravagant gown, anyways – do a strip search on you for items just like that necklace we're using. They'll take it off, and discover the illusion.”
“Clockwork, seize the governor,” the sergeant ordered.
“Yessir!” he answered at the same time he grabbed the pegasus and pinned her chest to the ground.
“Medic,” the sergeant faced Gratitude, “I'm not yielding control of this op. For Clover's – and your – sake, I allowed us to negotiate an alternative plan. But it's not going to work. Given her presence constitutes a clear and present danger to this group, and returning her to Vanguard hooves alive is unacceptable given our mission objectives...” He turned to the governor. “Though you almost have my respect for warning us about this at the cost of your life.”
“But – we voted - !” Snowglade objected.
“On a plan we now know won't work!” The sergeant answered.
Clockwork hesitantly nodded, “I – I'm afraid he's right. I'll vote against it if we can't find a way to keep the illusion spell going without the necklace, then it's a tie and sergeant breaks it. It was his call to vote in the first place.”
“Wait – wait!” Rarity quickly magicked the translator necklace from herself to Twilight. “Twilight, quickly, they'll kill Rainbow – and the Sergeant! – if we can't find out how to get the illusion spell to stay on without the necklace!”
“Wait – what? No-no-no,” Twilight immediately objected, her wings flaring out of their coated sleeves, cramming the tent uncomfortably. She leaned forward, blocking the sergeant's sight of the Governor in the tiny space. “This is easy. Just simply divert the spell effect through Gratitude's body – it may take a pool targeting modification to the spell, but it should allow the simple cantrip to last at least a few minutes after she takes the necklace off – maybe even hours! It's really nothing but a very particularly shaped prestidigitation spell...”
“Prestidigitation...?” Rarity echoed quietly to herself, thinking for a brief moment before returning her attention to the conversation.
The governor looked at her, surprised. “That – that's doable?” she asked.
“I'll want proof this works,” the sergeant firmly set. “This plan is insane enough as it is. I want to make sure this part at least won't fail.”
Twilight nodded. “I could do it in a flash, except...” her wings and ears drooped as she put a hoof to her flat forehead. She winced in pain.
Rarity put a comforting hoof over Twilight's.
“No other solutions?” Courageous Fate asked. “Step out of the way, Twilight, unless you actually have a solution.”
“I – uh – Snowglade, can't you do prestidigitation!? As part of your training?!”
“N-no, I can't.”
“I can!” Rarity said.
Twilight's expression perked as she turned to Rarity, “Oh yeah! The gem-hunting spell is a form of that, isn't it? And all those effects you do for fashion shows? But this isn't just doing it, this is integrating the medic's life energy as a middle step in the spell – if you get it wrong, you could cause –” she cut herself off as she realized who she had to answer to. She turned to the sergeant. “...Rarity can do it. I'll have to guide her, but she can do it,” she feigned confidence. “She can modify the transformation spell so it can last even after the necklace is removed.”
He met her eyes with an intense, suspicious glare. “Whatever you two figure out, we don't have all winter,” he warned them, “And this isn't some fashion show. We'll all be tortured to death if you do some half-assed job.”
“This is Rarity,” Twilight answered, the feigned confidence turning real. “She never does anything short of perfect.”
“Twilight... right now I'm glad you're the only one who can understand me,” Rarity said. “Because I'm really not as confident as you are...”
Veil stood in The Abyss, the ice stretching on in every direction in the eternal night, the endless wind ruffling her dark cloak. “You win again, abbess. But only for now. May this be one of many things to herald in the end of your pathetic, cruel and terrible world.” Her horn lit up, the wind ceased, then reversed, and then began to howl as a thick fog materialized and began to wash over the icy plains.
She sighed, bowing her head, and put a foreleg to her chest. “Oh, Lionheart... The time has come for me to keep my promise... I will deliver them salvation from the suffering they endlessly bring on themselves. I carry not hatred in this heart, but the cool wrath of justice, and the warmth of mercy. The end is near, and you shall see it. And they shall be its emissaries.”
“But sarge, aren't we all going to die eventually?”
“Yes, Clockwork, but live forever. That's an order.”
“I don't understand, sir.”
“You'll figure it out one day.”
The sergeant's parting words echoed in Gratitude's mind as she trudged through the snow alone. She still didn't understand what he'd meant, but brushed the odd order aside for now.
She wore Governor Spectrum's nightgown and the appearance-altering necklace underneath. They'd taken the Governor's bedsheets from the train to wrap Twilight in, and now the medic wore them as a makeshift cloak. Even though they were large enough to fold over for a double layer, they still weren't warm enough. Socks and a scarf over her face were necessary to keep frostbite off. And still, she was cold.
Playing spy. This is too close to fighting. Intentionally deceiving so many ponies as an act of war. What would the abbess think?
No, I've made a promise to the sergeant. I'll worry about the abbess later... Concentrate.
The Abyss was thick with fog. She constantly glanced at the compass she carried, trying to steady herself so the needle wouldn't jiggle too much as she walked, yet again reciting the information the governor gave her in her head. Contingency code hailstorm, and the colors are yellow on green.
The fog was the blessing they needed. The floodlights around the base would act only as lighthouses to let them know exactly where the perimeter was.
But alone, the fog wouldn't be enough. Sneaking into the hanger and cold-starting a bomber before air infantry divisions were swarming on them would be impossible.
So while the others hid from the floodlights, she would walk straight towards them – whenever she saw them.
Her body tingled with the magic Twilight and Rarity had put on her. Seeing her own hooves and mane cyan and white gave her the impression that she had been discharged from her oath of peace, that she was an entirely different pony.
A pony that had the blood of hundreds of thousands on her hooves, who faced certain execution at Bastion, and probably even more torture before that.
But she's given us the tools, warnings and knowledge to get home, even risking her own life to warn us... But what does risking your life mean if you want to die? But then again, perhaps she truly has repented?
But how can she be forgiven for so much innocent blood?
She shook her head and refocused her thoughts on the task at hoof. She may also be leading us right into a trap. But how likely is that? What if she did lie about the codes? But no, that doesn't make any sense because of the next thing she said – why would she tell us they'd strip-search me and remove her only bargaining chip for survival? She knew we'd kill her if we didn't find a way to get the necklace to work.
But what if she wanted us to kill her right then and right there – what if she said they'd strip-search me so we'd put her down painlessly then, instead of the torture we'd give her when the sergeant never sees my signal and realizes I've been captured?
She cringed at the word 'we'. No, he – they. The torture they might've given her. But not I.
Or... That they might still give her, if she did lie, and they do capture me.
She paused her walking for a moment to check her compass again, waiting for the needle to stop moving. She tapped it to make sure it was pointing the right way.
Right into the maw of the beast.
The sergeant is right about one thing. This is very risky. And what if we all die because I fail? It's not just my life on the line here – it's all of ours. It's one thing to offer my life for them – but to put all of our lives at risk for someone who's done so much evil? And someone else who wants to murder and die?
Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she simply felt the terror of what they might do to her if she was captured. Her ears squeezed flat against the sides of her head. She let the terror simply wash over her, accepting it, letting is pass through. Her ears relaxed.
She sighed. Maybe he was right. I don't want to see all of them – my friends – captured and executed...
But can I really do that? Turn around, head back to the team – then watch them execute Governor Spectrum, leave her body behind, see the sergeant off to his death, and begin the long trek home?
Sweet home... Her head bowed.
Comforting, strengthening words echoed in her mind. She stood upright as she thought of the ancient journal of Clover the Clever.
This world will be in need of light. The light of dawn is real and tangible, as is the warmth of summer – yet they will come only from the warmth of heart, and the light of your soul, which are known to spirit only. As the heart is the birthplace of action of the hoof, so will the heart be the birthplace of dawn before the hoof feels warm grass upon the Earth again.
Carry your light, dear friend, do not let it go out.
Okay, Clover. For your dawn. For our dawn. For their dawn.
She looked back up, a steel determination coming over her face.
Some fates are worse than death. Like being a part of the cause of this winter. Even if we die, maybe it will have been worth it, just so we're not part of the problem by killing a helpless, captured prisoner...
...Harmony help us, she prayed, and kept walking.
Again her heart panged with fear and anxiety, and yet, paradoxically, was at rest knowing that even if she died, it was for a cause worthy to die for.
The more she thought of it, the deeper her dread grew. She tried not to, but couldn't keep herself from wondering what they Vanguard would do to her. Her courage faltered. She realized just how tiny she was in the vast, icy abyss. Even through the doubled blankets, the cold wind stung her face and scratched her throat, carrying a faint smell of fuel from the base she approached. We all die... But I will die for something worthwhile... If I die here to The Vanguard. She echoed to herself again.
The question pained her once more. I've never heard of an Adherent being anything other than an unarmed medic. But being a spy?... She bit her lip. I'm not hurting anypony. Not any more than I would by healing a fighter who might go on to fight once more... She visibly shook the thought off with a shiver.
Even if it is wrong... It will still have been worth it. They need me. Bastion needs me. The entire world may hinge on me doing my duty here, if those two ponies really do carry such strong magic. I don't know if I've ever even seen that sort of wizardry at the abbey, even just what Twilight did in the tent with Rarity, nevermind what they say about other worlds.
But if it's so important... why am I risking it instead of letting the sergeant just kill the governor?
The governor probably even wants it...
She immediately pushed the thought away. No, I've made up my mind. I'm doing this. Harmony guide me.
She noticed a distant point of light. The guard towers! She immediately pushed away the temptation to be afraid. Overcoming brutal training at Bastion had taught her something valuable: I may not be a fighter, but I am a soldier!
Her steps picked up a determined march once more, her mind racing over all her military education about the Vanguard's command structure, and all her skill with the Hatten language. Okay, I'm governor Full Spectrum. She couldn't help but let out a single laugh, despite everything, as she remembered a school play from so many years ago. Who would've ever thought that play could save my life? But she remembered how she'd improved her acting – she wouldn't act, she would fool herself into thinking she was the Governor, then do as the governor would do.
As she neared the lights, they towered ever higher above her in the thick fog. Another gust of wind blew. She immediately stopped. Her ears drooped, knees quivered, and pupils shrank.
As fog was swept away in the wind, she saw steel goliaths towering over her, and pairs of blinding floodlight eyes staring down at her.
Her heart froze in her chest.
“Don't move! Don't speak!” a voice bellowed at her. “Move and be shot! Speak and be shot!”
She held still. Not daring to move even her ears or raised hoof.
Long, tense moments passed, before she saw three uniformed pegasi fly down and land in front of her, one wearing a cap. “Stay still, not a word...” the capped one said, pointing a rifle at her with another, while the third stepped forward and put a hoof on her forehead. He turned and reported, “nothing, going to search. Just stay still and quiet as a statue...” He opened the bedsheet cloak, and started patting around while the others kept their rifles pointed at her.
The waft of freezing air made her tense. The foggy cold bit deep through the thin nightgown underneath. There was hardly even time to be terrified as he checked her chest area. She breathed an internal sigh of relief as he missed the necklace under the nightgown, but couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as he continued his thorough search – pulling her wings out and patting under them, working from front to back.
He even worked his way back to pat indecent areas she thought the governor would've had him shot for touching. But what can I do – tell him not to? They'll shoot me if I speak!
Finally, he went back to her face, pulled the scarf down to see her whole face, and lowered the hood, looking around her head.
“We're good,” he reported. “No hidden weapons, nothing but what we see, the nightgown and underwear.”
He could feel that but not the necklace? No – own up to it, it'll be suspicious if I don't tell them about the necklace – what if it's a test!? – but they may ask me to take it off if they find out! I can't yet, the magic doesn't last that long – but if they're the ones who search me – but the Governor said they'd have maids do the strip-searching! Certainly they won't do that here! Will they?
Her mind rushed in a panic. If they know and I don't report, I'm dead, and my entire team is dead. If they don't know and I do report then we might be dead. If they don't know and I don't report or if they do know and I do report-
The two in the back lowered their rifles. “By the azure sky!” the one in the cap exclaimed, interrupting her thoughts.
He slung his rifle back over his shoulder, then turned to the pegasus next to him, “report to the tower, but not the radio circuit. No mention of this is to be made outside tower two as of the moment, understood? And bring back something hot to drink!”
“Yes sir!” he answered, and flew back.
“Governor!” He quickly turned to her, “I'm lieutenant Flashpoint. You may speak and move freely now. My deepest apologies about our precautions!” - he took his cap off and held it over his chest in a bow - “Can you fly? - Can you talk? Are you injured? Are you willing to be carried up to the tower, or do you want to go straight to HQ? We can't take orders from you until imposter protocols are met, given the circumstances, but I'll let you decide if you're in a condition to go straight to the local HQ or not.” He put his cap back on.
“I'm -” I've just been out in The Abyss for days with nothing but this blanket for shelter. My accent won't be perfect... but I'm dehydrated, traumatized and exhausted! Fooling herself worked too well. All of a sudden, she realized how pained her hooves and dry mouth were. “Just... somewhere warm...” I should go to HQ and get that bomber ready – Blue Moon – but I've also got to convince them I've just survived The Abyss for days by myself with no shelter! There's no way I'd be in a state to march straight to the HQ like this!
“Ma'am, do you object to us carrying you up to tower two?” he asked.
She found responses didn't come easily. It wasn't like the play. There wasn't a script. But her panic only helped her play the role. “I – uh...” she slowly, uncertainly replied.
After waiting seconds for her response, he stepped forward and put his hooves around her. “Corporal Starstreak, it's a long way up, give me your wings.”
“Yes sir!”
Soon she found herself lifted off the ground. I – I can fly, but if they think I can't – no, I can't. I just can't, I'm too exhausted! And I can't believe they didn't find me, either! And I have no idea how long it's been!
They set her on a metal balcony. The entire structure was some painted steel. She could feel the cold of it biting through her socks.
In another minute, she was inside, wrapped in another thick blanket, in a small communications room in the back, sipping on some hot mint tea and munching on a biscuit. She'd given them the compass – there was no reason to carry it around anymore. The tower was warm inside. She started shivering.
I – I was too cold to shiver!? Did I just almost freeze to death out there? But I was never all that cold! She sighed, focusing again on her task. Her mind felt more clear, as though leaving the fog had lifted it from her own mind.
Lieutenant Flashpoint had reported her to command, then kept himself or anypony else from bothering her. He was now talking on a phone line, requesting a doctor come to tower two immediately. Okay, they want to check on me. That makes sense. Make sure I'm not going to freeze to death walking to the HQ...
Or are they stalling? What if they did find the necklace and I failed to report it so they know I'm an imposter? Is it really a doctor, or an executioner?
Don't be stupid, if it was an executioner they'd just shoot me... here... now... She was thankful nopony in the room had weapons drawn.
There wasn't much to do while she waited – but sitting in a communications room, she wasn't going to let this opportunity go to waste. So she listened to the phone and radio operators. No reports of a Cerulean team, just organizing a search operation...
This is definitely not some watch tower. This is more like a command post. Am I even in the right base? Did I accidentally stumble on something else?
I guess I could ask. I need to start being a lot more assertive and confident... just as soon as I stop shivering. “Lieutenant, I am in the East Shades complex – this is the East Shades complex, right?”
“Yes ma'am,” he answered. “Anything else?”
“No... that's all.”
A phone rang, and the Lieutenant answered it. “Tower two actual... The full check?... Uh – very well. Let me – we could use the medical bay. Yes ma'am.” He hung it up.
“What was that?” she asked.
“HQ wants to clear imposter protocols immediately. A party will be here in twenty, maybe sooner. Should arrive just behind the doctor.”
“Right.” She nodded. She went back to listening to the other operators.
There were flight numbers, and large grid numbers. She started to notice there were flights from Delphi, Hollow Shades and Lone Peaks, but none from East Shades, but she couldn't figure out why. It seemed the operation was massive – the command station in a perimeter tower is being used to manage a small slice of it.
Then she started to notice.
There's no air traffic from East Shades? No, this is a major installation – it must just be that this command post isn't over any. Surely there's flights coming from here...
Four guards escorted Gratitude to a room in the bottom of the tower's raised structure. Her heart raced. She couldn't stop focusing on the weapons the two guards in front of her carried. The lead guard knocked on door at the bottom of a narrow flight of stairs. The stair room was deathly cold.
Flashpoint had given her his coat, but aside from that, it was only the nightgown, scarf, socks and the enchanted necklace.
“Enter,” she heard a voice call from inside.
“Infirmary,” the lead guard said as he opened the door, and the second one walked inside. She followed.
Inside were four more guards, a highly decorated officer mare, and four more mares. The three in service staff outfits gave a polite bow – they were only civilians, and only one even had ear notches of any kind, meaning the other two were even paid – while the fourth, in a military uniform, saluted. “An honor, m'am.”
Her and the officer were both armed with rifles.
Yet, just as the rifles scared her, the salute gave her some confidence. She quickly remembered her character. “As you were,” she said.
The room was huge compared to all the others. Even when the two guards behind her entered, all fourteen ponies fit comfortably. She looked around.
Are all of them going to watch me strip?
“As you know, governor, unicorns are extremely powerful and dangerous creatures, so I hope you understand all the precautions,” the decorated mare started.
“Of course,” Half of Graitude was surprised with the confidence she could fake.
The other half still believed she was Governor Spectrum.
“I'm Brigadier General Icewind. I'm the most senior mare officer present at this installation, and this is lieutenant Sunflower, a veteran of the Frontier program. We'll act as both officiators and the guards. These civilians will conduct the search. This should be in compliance with high command. Are you satisfied with this arrangement?” she asked.
Gratitude glanced at the eight guards – all stallions, then back at Icewind. “Do they have to be here?”
“Not for the search, but for the first part. First, what are the colors?”
The Cerulean's heart froze. She didn't give herself time to be afraid. She simply immediately recited what she'd been memorizing for hours. “Yellow on green – and I'm calling contingency Hailstorm.”
“Hailstorm?” Icewind echoed. “Very well, but that'll have to wait until we're done here. Next, the dye remover. Forward, check,” she ordered.
One of the maids stepped forward with a vial of some liquid tucked in her wing. “Excuse me, ma'am,” she started with, then put a few drops of the liquid in a hoof, and rubbed it in the false Governor's white mane. She did it twice more – once on the fur of her cheek, and again on her wing. Finally, she stepped back.
The general nodded. “Now, finally, the search. All the stallions outside, now.”
“Yes m'am!” two answered, and each led three others outside.
The doors shut behind them.
“Weapons ready!” the general ordered.
Gratitude's heart froze, her wings flaring out in a moment of terror as she took a step back, looking down two barrels.
“Hold it, governor. It's just part of the procedure,” Icewind calmly told her.
Their hooves weren't over the triggers – they were practicing trigger discipline, much to Gratitude's relief.
“High command would like us to keep the weapons trained on you while the search is done in case we see magic,” Icewind continued, “but since you're not a unicorn and there's nothing enchanted on you, you've got nothing to fear.”
The combination of Gratitude's fake confidence and acting got to her – “This is outrageous!” she reflexively barked, “I – you can't just – It's unnecessary! I've already been through this once less than an hour ago!”
The part of her that remembered it was only an act was again shocked at how well she'd taken on the role.
“Sorry, governor, High Command's procedures are law. This goes far beyond a routine check. You literally just walked out of The Abyss. Service staff, get to work. Governor, don't move except for the motions they move you with. We will follow High Command's procedures to a 'T'.”
Gratitude sensed something off about the General's voice – Is she enjoying this?
The service staff stepped forward.
If they try to arrest me – does it break my vow of non-violence to fight back, if it's not actually to harm them, but just to get them to shoot me so I die quickly instead of being captured and tortured?
It was similar to the pat-down from earlier, only this time, they removed articles of clothing as they went.
There weren't many.
As they lifted her forehooves to take off Flashpoint's coat, the entire plan was crashing in her head. Why did I think this was a good idea? How were we so stupid! Wearing an enchanted necklace when we knew they'd strip-search me? How could I think that!?
The maids grabbed the hem of her nightgown.
Will they shoot me as soon as they the necklace? Can a general recognize enchanted items on sight?
They started lifting the hem.
Surely they'll interogate me – I won't be strong enough to endure torture, I'll tell them about the team! I have to make them shoot me so they never find out!
They made her sit on her haunches again, then lifted her arms so they could pull the gown the rest of the way off.
No, I can always jump at them to get shot. Wait it out – see if you can talk your way out of it. An heirloom! No – it's just something I wanted to keep!
“Stop!” Icewind snapped. “Governor, don't move a muscle. Keep those arms raised. Maids, step away. Everyone leave the room immediately, except for you, governor. You don't move a feather.”
“Ma'am!?” Sunflower asked, shocked.
“That's an order.”
“Right away!”
In seconds, the room was empty again. There was just Icewind pointing a rifle at the quaking, disguised medic.
“Move a hair and I'm putting a round through your throat. An emerald necklace? Are you not aware of the role emeralds play in magic? They're illusory! Why would you wear an emerald, of all things!? Didn't you know we'd search you?”
Gratitude was too terrified to move – to even answer. She didn't dare open her mouth until explicitly told to.
“Well, nevermind all that... High Command's procedure didn't outline much for what to do if we found a commonly enchanted item on you. But I've got an idea. Codes can be stolen, so I'll ask you something else. It's a yes or no question. Answer it. Did you, or did you not allow me to open fire in the city? Back when that first unicorn was on the loose in Hatten, and I ordered an artillery strike. Do you remember that? What did you say?”
Gratitude's tongue was caught. Now? Should I throw myself at her and die quickly? No, I should at least try to guess. There's no way I'll guess the exact words, but what have I got to lose? If I guess wrong, then I'll just throw myself at her and get shot, anyways.
Then... What would the Governor have said?
She's... she sincerely believes in what she's doing.
But why would she remember
"I - I don't remember -"
"Nonsense! Just listen to me! Back when that first unicorn was on the loose in Hatten, and I ordered an artillery strike, how did you respond?" Brigadier General Icewind pressed.
"I... I was horrified at the damage, but it had to be done!" Gratitude cried.
