Iota Force, Ponyville's young superhero team, much head to Canterlot to face origami opponents and a colt who shows that paper thin powers can still produce many a cut.
In Equestria, there are more potential Special Talents a pony can have than there are stars in the sky, and each one can have as many uses as the bearer can imagine. Even the most innocuous mark can acheive wonders if the pony who wears it wishes to.
As such, when a pony comes onto the scene in Canterlot, performing daring robberies using powerful items and autnomous minions they've folded out of paper, it is... a little unusual, to say the least, but far from unbelievable.
The pony in question being a young colt, that's a bit more notable.
Still, such things are exactly what Iota Force, Ponyville's Colt and Filly crimefighters, were made for. So, the team is heading for Canterlot, ready to take on these origami opponents and, Icy Flight hopes, take in the sights.
Of course, both those things may prove difficult when facing the folded forces of the Paper Prince. When your enemy can literally make himself a small army, it may be near impossible to overcome such a multitude of minions.
Or, at least, that's how it seems on paper.
This is the fifth story in the Iota Force series. Reading the previous stories would be helpful and will help give some things context, but hopefully the story will stand on its own. However, just to be safe, a summary of the series' premise, characters and previous stories can be found here.
It was a clear afternoon in the skies above Central Equestria. There was barely a cloud either high or low in the sky and the sun was shining brightly through the winter air. The expansive fields on the ground below were covered in a thin layer of fresh snow, with only the occasional paths among them visible thanks to a bit of salt scattered that morning. A few birds, those that were comfortable enough in the cold temperatures to not bother flying south, were gliding through the sky, singing to each other and completing the picture of midwinter beauty.
Unfortunately, another sound soon arose – one considerably less sonorous.
“How much longer, dear?” a female voice whined. “How much longer must we endure this dreadful cold and this filthy scenery?”
“Not to worry,” a male voice replied, less petulant but no more pleasant, “I'm sure these gentlecolts will get us back to Canterlot within the hour. That is, if they wish to get paid this month.”
A tiny hint of grumbling could be barely heard above the wind as a chariot came into view. It was a horrendously tacky affair, covered in gold and silver, with jewels decorating the outside and velvet lining the inside. None of this seemed particularly conducive to actually being pulled, if the expressions on the two pegasi doing so were any indication, but the unicorn couple riding in it seemed unbothered by little things like practicality or making their chauffeurs' jobs tolerable.
The lady sighed, pulling her fur coat tighter around her, making sure to keep all her jewellery on the outside, presumably in case some bird or insect were to see her and think she was less than monumentally rich.
“Why in Equestria we had to spend the day slumming it in Fillydelphia, I've no idea,” she scoffed. “They call that little hovel a city? It's barely a suburb. I've a mind to sue them for daring to claim to be in the same league as Canterlot.” In her mind, it seemed, the respectably-sized houses and offices of Fillydelphia were reduced to caves and mud huts.
The stallion nodded, combing his immaculate mane. He'd been combing it on and off for the entire trip, either not realizing or not caring how much of a waste of effort it was, as the wind would quickly mess it up again.
“I know, dear, believe me. I mean, for Celestia's sake, they have the perfect place for a spa and what do they put in it? A hospital for commoners! Such a waste. However, one has to give some consideration to charity for such... ponies.”
“Does one?” The lady replied, looking genuinely puzzled at the concept.
The stallion nodded a couple of times before his straight face crumbled and he was reduced to laughter. “Of course not! I doubt those hoof-dragging neanderthals can remember such donations, let alone appreciate them. However, we still have to make the effort, otherwise we'll be the only ones who can't claim we did. Do you want to hear Fancy Pants' latest boast about how much he's given this month and then have no answer when he asks what you have?”
The lady nodded, not bringing up or, to all appearances, even considering the possibility that such claims might be anything other than boasts. “I suppose so. Still, would that we could do away with such frivolities,” she said as she lay back on her velvet cushion and levitated a grape out of the golden fruit bowl on the side of the chariot. “Perhaps we could build that spa there.”
The stallion smiled. “One thing at a time, my dear.”
A shadow briefly flickered across their faces.
“What was that?” asked the mare.
“Oh, just a bird, I should imagine,” the stallion replied, rolling his eyes, “I'm trying to have them banned, but you know the bureaucracy the Princess likes to...”
Before he could finish his sentence, something landed on his head, bouncing off and twisting around in mid-air to face them. The two were briefly worried before they realized exactly what, or rather, who was facing them.
It was a young colt, barely reaching up to their torsos. His coat was green, but most of it was covered – he was wearing a white hooded sweatshirt, with the hood drawn tight around his face, and thick hoof-less socks. His mane was entirely hidden, and his tail was in a white sheath, so they couldn't tell what colour they were. Furthermore, though the areas they would be in were covered, there were no lumps in the hoodie on his forehead or back, meaning he was almost certainly an earth pony. However, it was a little hard to tell because, over his back, he was wearing a pair of basic saddlebags. They were both bulging, but not solidly – it looked like they contained a number of very angular things, though what those things were was impossible to determine.
Though his face wasn't covered by his hood, he was wearing a mask. However, it wasn't made of fabric or strapped to his face, but rather looked like it had been folded out of paper – a thick, blockish wall over his eyes with rounded sides, square eye holes and a thin beak that went forward over the colt's muzzle. Despite the fact that there seemed to be nothing holding the mask on and that a mask over the eyes and a little bit of the nose shouldn't conceal anything, it stayed firmly rooted to the colt's face and somehow did an excellent job hiding it.
The only part of him that was completely uncovered was his haunch, between where his torso reached his back legs, where the sweatshirt ended, and the tops of those legs, where the socks began. This meant that his cutie mark was plainly visible – a unicorn folded out of paper.
In the colt's front hooves were... well, it was hard to tell what they were. Like his mask and, apparently, his cutie mark, they were constructed out of paper, but the object they were emulating was rather harder to ascertain. Each one consisted of a long block of folded paper, thick at one end but tapering off into almost a point at the other. Once it got close to that point, the blocks split into two separate arms, each ending in an impressively folded ring. These rings held between them a rolled-up tube of paper, with the ends folded out to keep them from slipping out of the rings, and in the middle of each tube was held what looked like a many-pointed shuriken or a paper buzzsaw.
All in all, the two unicorns were more confused by the sight than intimidated. However, their dumbfounded silence faded when the stallion registered that he'd just been jumped on and reached up to rub his head.
“Rather a rude entrance, don't you think, boy? I presume you wish for an autograph, but even were I inclined to give one to an urchin I don't know or one dressed in such a plebian fashion or one who jumps into our carriage uninvited and unwanted, I can assure you that giving me a concussion does not make me kindly disposed towards such a request.”
The young colt scoffed, an amused sneer coming onto his face. “Autograph? You kiddin'? That'd just be a waste of paper. And I've got plenty of better things to use paper for. Lemme show you.”
Without waiting for a reply or even taking a moment to register the unicorns' insulted expressions, the colt whirled round and leapt up onto the front rim of the chariot.
He held his front hooves, and the paper... things they were holding, out to the sides. He then started, with one hoof for each, folding them at incredible speed. His hooves moved so dextrously that it was nearly impossible to follow the movements. One moment the toe would be pressing down a fold on the chariot's rim, the next the sole would grasp it and pull another fold over and the next, his head would flick forward to bite down on a corner for a fraction of a second before darting over to the other paper-thing. It would have been impressive were it not for the audience, well, not being impressed. The two pegasi were looking over their shoulders with mild interest (after all, how dangerous could a kid with paper really be?) and the two unicorns refused to acknowledge that making anything could be worthwhile – too much like work.
Within a few seconds, the ends of the arms had been sharpened into thick points. Before anyone could ask the point of this exercise, he raised the two objects above his head. For a fraction of a second, a faint glow could be seen around the points he'd just created before he slammed them down and into the front of the chariot.
Now, in normal circumstances, it would be fair to say that this would be a rather futile endeavour, as the sides were constructed of solid (and very expensive) wood and were hard enough to withstand most hoof-powered forms of attack, let alone ones using paper. However, rather than a crumpling sound, there was a heavy crunch and the sound of splintering. Looking down, the unicorn couple saw the very ends of the points protruding from the front wall of the chariot.
The stallion opened his mouth to ask what was going on, his interest in the situation rapidly increasing as it became clear that there might be something dangerous about this situation, when the colt raised a hoof to stop him.
He flicked both his front hooves forward, setting the spiked wheels spinning and, the moment he did so, a loud buzzing filled the air – the unmistakable sound of a power saw.
And, as the two pegasi noted, the sound was coming from just behind their haunches.
“Now then, gents,” the colt spoke finally, “no need to worry – long as you keep goin' like you're goin', you'll keep outta reach of these little babies. If you don't – if you try to slow down, go down or turn around, well...” without warning, he grabbed the left pegasus's tail and brushed it gently against the saw, shearing off a substantial amount of hair and instilling a substantial amount of fear, “I'm sure you'll do what's best.”
Before he could turn around, the colt felt himself lift off the chariot, a pale yellow glow surrounding him. He was turned around in midair to face the unicorn stallion, his horn aglow with the same aura. “Well, I'll give you this, young pony, you know how to intimidate the common folk. However, you've still us to deal with and I can assure you that we won't be cowed by some silly paper tricks”.
The colt's eye twitched. “Silly, huh? Lemme show you silly. Silly is thinkin' I'd only have something for the pegasi. Silly is thinkin' you could stop me. Silly is thinkin' that just cause you can lift me, you can hold me.” His front hooves whipped forward. Even if the stallion's aura had been capable of holding him immobile, it hadn't been focused on doing so. And, furthermore, it most definitely wasn't capable of holding him immobile, given that the stallion in question was neither battle-magic trained nor used to levitating anything other than a teacup or, on a really strenuous day, a book.
As such, the aura did not prevent him from throwing what looked like two paper shuriken at the two unicorns. Their reflexes being somewhat dull, they had barely thought to move before the thrown paper-blades slashed at their horns, only producing shallow cuts but disrupting any magic they were holding or intending to cast.
The two yelped in pain – there was no permanent damage, but it still hurt and would prevent them from using magic for a few minutes. The mare glared at the colt, though it was hard to tell if she was angry at the pain or the shuriken cutting through and messing up her hairdo. Whatever the case, she ducked around her husband and ran at the colt, hopping up on her hind legs and putting her front hooves together, ready to slam them down in something vaguely similar to a punch.
However, the colt was quicker. He ducked underneath her blow, his hoof reaching quickly into his saddlebags and producing what looked like a thin paper chain. As her hooves landed on the deck but before she could separate them, he whipped the chain around them. As with his previous tools, it didn't look like much – thin strips of paper bent into circles and interlinked with one another. However, looking closely, there seemed to be no tape or glue holding it together. And whatever was holding it together was far stronger, as the mare found out as she struggled to pull the flimsy-looking thing off.
Producing two more chains, the colt slipped between the mare's hind legs and whipped the two chains on either side of him – one around the mare's back legs and one around the stallion's front legs. As the mare fell over and the stallion's mouth flapped in disbelief like a fish, he darted around, got out a fourth chain and bound the stallion's hind legs with that as well.
As the stallion fell to the deck, his horn out of commission and his hooves bound, the colt smirked as he stood over the two.
“Look at you, floppin' around on the floor. What's the matter, can't beat a couple of paper tricks?” His smile fell and he kicked the two in their stomachs. “Don't you just look silly now?”
The mare winced at the kick. Not that it was especially hard, but she wasn't used to physical... well, anything, really. “What do you want from us, you pitiful vulgarian? If you want money, then-”
“Yeah,” the colt interrupted, “that'll do for a start!” He strolled over to their prone forms and plucked the bulging bit pouches from their belts. “You know, most smart ponies wouldn't carry this much around with them all the time. Kinda why I picked you out – you are not smart ponies.”
The stallion snorted, either unbothered by the insult or simply not refusing to allow his ears to interpret the sounds. “Is that it? Is that all you're after?”
“It'll do for now,” The colt nodded as he backed up to the rear edge of the chariot. “I ain't greedy, this'll do plenty. Anyway, better be off – don't worry, gents,” he called to the terrified pegasi pulling the chariot, “the saws'll run down in about five minutes, then you can stop and help these guys.”
“And then you'll have to deal with them,” The mare sneered. “Do you really think you'll get away?”
“With this?” the colt finished. “Well, kinda seems that way – they're outta the fight, you're outta the fight, so...”
“No,” the mare interrupted him, “you won't get away. We're on a chariot in the middle of the sky that you just made sure can't stop and you're an earth pony. How exactly did you intend to escape?” It was hard to tell which she was pouring more scorn on – the idea of him escaping or the fact that he was an earth pony.
The colt hummed for a second, putting a hoof up to his chin in mock thought. “Good question.” He shrugged. “Ah, well, I'm sure I'll think of somethin'.” The moment he finished, he hopped backwards, flipping over once and falling from the chariot and out of sight.
The stallion sighed. “Well, we lost some money, but at least that disgusting little lout won't be...” he trailed off as he and his wife saw said lout rising up from beneath the back lip of the chariot. At first, he simply seemed to be levitating, though with no glow of magic. However, as his hooves rose up into their line of sight, they saw that he was, in fact, riding a giant paper aeroplane.
The colt grinned at them. “I thoughta somethin'! Goodbye, milord, milady,” He bowed mockingly, pouring every ounce of sarcasm he could muster into his address, “It's been fun.” He burst out into a short, harsh laugh. “Fun for you, that is, to have been robbed by... the Paper Prince!”
As he finished, the Paper Prince turned the plane around, apparently through nothing but thought, and shot off in the opposite direction, quickly shrinking out of sight.
Icy stood stock still, her eyes closed tight enough to hurt and her breathing only kept steady by a tremendous force of will.
She could feel the water all around her, wrapping itself around her legs, holding them, and she wasn't sure it was ever going to let them go. The water was a few millimetres away from her stomach, leading it to tickle and lightly-but-horribly caress the tips of the hairs of her coat. She was managing to stop herself from raising herself up on the tips of her hooves but couldn't bring herself to lower her belly into the water, leading to an unpleasant halfway point.
Her front left hoof starting tapping rapidly in agitation, producing a muffled thumping through the water. Icy had no idea how long she'd been standing there – it could have been five minutes, it could have been five days. The horrible locking up of her nervous system also seemed to be doing a number on her sense of time.
She grimaced harder as, though she could have imagined it, she thought she could feel the water spinning around her legs and wrapping itself tighter around them. It wasn't something she felt on her skin, but she could feel it nonetheless. It was grabbing her, rubbing her, pulling her.
“Done!” she yelled. “Done, done, I want out!”
The instant she started saying this, she could feel herself being lifted out of the water by a strong magical grip. She was quickly placed down on the mat next to the bath, wrapped in towels and then further wrapped in her mother's hooves. She felt a few tears come out involuntarily before a towel absorbed them.
“Ssh, ssh,” Sunny whispered soothingly, holding the towel in place under her eye, “it's okay...”
“No!” Icy snapped pitifully. “No, it's not okay. Nothing about this is okay.” There were many ways Icy could describe being terrified of a half-filled bath, but “okay” was not one of them.
Sunny sighed as she nodded. “Oka- Alright, but you're out of it now.” Without looking up, she lit her horn and Icy heard the sound of the plug being pulled. This time, only a slight shudder went through her as she heard the water rush down the plughole.
Icy took a deep breath, trying to will herself calm and partially succeeding. “So, how did I do?”
Sunny looked over at the stopwatch sitting on the toilet seat. “Four minutes, eight seconds.”
Icy frowned. “Oh, you've gotta be kidding me!” She thumped her head lightly against the side of the tub, groaning. “I'm never gonna beat this thing.”
“Icy!” Sunny said, glaring at Icy in stern sympathy. “It's only been two weeks.”
“Three!” Icy corrected, looking back almost defiantly in her self-reproach. “Three weeks since... it happened. And it still takes everything I've got to stay in there for a couple of minutes.”
Sunny nodded. “Three weeks since it happened, two weeks since we started this therapy. Now, what did Doctor Tick say yesterday about progress?”
“Focus on how far you've come, not how far you've got to go,” Icy quoted with a slight snort – she felt an odd urge to attack or dismiss this advice but couldn't think of anything to say against it.
“Exactly. And how far you've come is that you lasted twice as long as you did last week, and with double the water level too.”
Icy shook her head. “Yeah, but it's not because it was any easier. It still felt twice as bad and got twice as worse when it got longer. I think that makes sense.” A hint of Icy's usual tone broke through as she almost got lost in thought at whether “twice as worse” worked as a phrase before she shook herself back into the moment. “So, yeah, I don't think it's getting better.”
“Wrong,” Sunny said, keeping firm eye contact with Icy. “Even if it isn't, you are. This is still a lot of progress and I won't let you devalue that. However, if you feel that it's not getting better, that we're going too fast, we can go back a bi-”
“No!” Icy interrupted. “No, I'm not slowing down! I have to beat this stupid thing, I-”
“Icy!” Sunny interrupted right back, her tone level enough to stabilize Icy's rushing thoughts. “This “thing” is very strong and there is no reason to rush these treatments and every reason not to.” She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly. “Tell you what – next appointment, we'll talk to Doctor Tick about it, he'll probably know what's best done here.” She suddenly chuckled for a moment. “And hopefully know how to convince whichever of us is wrong that we should go along with it.”
Icy grinned, the semi-joke finally diffusing some of the tension she'd been feeling. “Okay. But that's not for two weeks, so for now...”
“For now, we eat!” Sunny declared, stomping a hoof on the floor as she rose. After a moment, she looked down at Icy, her expression softening. “Do you think you'll be okay to have something soon?”
Icy nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” There had only been a couple of times when she felt bad enough after a... session in the bath that she didn't want to eat. And even then, Sunny was not going to let her go hungry, so just delayed dinner until she felt better.
“Okay, good. It's Farmer's Pie tonight, so...” Sunny was interrupted as they left the bathroom by a knock on the front door. “Could you get that, honey?” she asked as they descended the stairs. “I want to check how many potatoes we've got.”
“Sure thing, Mom,” Icy said, her cheerful attitude rapidly returning. She hopped off the step she was on and glided over to the front door. She landed in front of it rather gracefully. At least, in the moments before her momentum kept her going and caused her to smack into it. She hopped up, shook her head for a moment, then opened the door to see a familiar piebald colt standing there. “Pip! Hi there!”
“Hi,” Pip said, his head tilted at the sound of the impact. “You okay, Icy?”
Icy nodded. “Just fine, why do you ask?”
Pip thought for a moment then shrugged. “No reason. Anyway, just coming to let you know – the team's got a case!”
Icy's eyes widened. “Really? Nifty! Although,” she frowned in thought as she tried to recall the last few days, “I haven't seen anything weird going on around here.”
Pip nodded. “That's cause it's not down here, it happened around Canterlot.”
“Canterlot?!” A sparkle came to Icy's eyes as she said the name. “We're going to Canterlot?”
Pip sighed, his smile turning a touch melancholy. “Well, you might be, I'm not – no reason for me to go. And anyway, that's what this is to decide.” He reached over to his saddlebag, took out a small piece of blue paper and gave it to her.
Icy took the paper, a little puzzled. “What's this?”
“Permission slip,” Pip explained as he closed his saddlebag again. “If your ma says you can go, you can go. Just come to the station at twelve tomorrow with that signed. Anyway, better be off,” He continued, turning to leave, “got three more to deliver. Ta ta!”
“Bye!” Icy said as she closed the door. Shrugging, she trotted into the kitchen and put the slip on the table. “Mom, could you take a look at this, please?”
“Sure thing, sweetie.” Sunny put down the potato she was peeling and trotted over. She glanced over the paper and, after only a couple of seconds, nodded. “Sounds fine to me. Canterlot, eh? Do you think...” She looked off to this side, a smile coming to her lips. “You know, it's been ages since I've been to Canterlot. Don't suppose you and your friends would mind a little... tagger-along on the journey, would you?”
Icy giggled. “Well, I don't think the guard'll pay for your ticket, but I don't see why you couldn't come if you wanted. Though you should probably not come along on our mission... whatever it is.”
Sunny waved a hoof as she returned to her potatoes. “No worries, there's plenty to do in Canterlot, I shan't step on your hooves.” She looked up in thought as her magic continued to peel automatically. “If nothing else, I'd like to pay a visit to the old BoCEaGS, see how they've been doing since I've been gone. Maybe even lend them a hoof if they could use it.”
Icy's smile dimmed a little at that. “Oh, so how long would you be gone for? And where would you be going? I mean-”
Sunny shook her head. “No, no, I just mean with the administrative stuff. Not like I used to.” She chuckled a little, smiling at the memory. “I told you, I don't do that anymore – I'm retired.”
Icy sighed in relief, shrugged and put it out of her mind as she left the kitchen. Her Mom's Farmer's Pie usually left her time to read eight comics before it was ready, or a little less if the carving knife had recently been sharpened.
Still, she thought as she went into her room and started looking over her shelves for ten comics to read, no reason I can't try to beat my record.
The next day, Icy and Sunny trotted up to Ponyville station, Icy holding her filled-out permission slip in a wing.
As they approached the platform, they spotted the rest of Iota Force in a group along with Pip and Twist, talking amongst themselves. The two went up to them, Truffle being the first to spot them.
“Hello there!” he called out, his voice carrying up to them and probably well past them. “Good to see you, Icy! Oh, and good morning, Mrs Flight!”
“Miss.”
“Oh, sorry. Anyway, come to see us off?”
Sunny shook her head. “Actually, I'm going along with you. Just up to Canterlot – figured I'd make a trip out of it.”
“Oh, I see,” Truffle said, starting to turn to Icy, his face a little pensive, before something occurred to him. “Although, do you not have work?”
Sunny smiled at him. “Nope, I'm retired.”
“Really?” Alula cut in smoothly. “You seem rather young for it, if you don't mind me saying so.”
Sunny shrugged. “It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage. So, are you all coming, too?”
“Not all of us,” Alula replied, not elaborating further.
Dinky looked up from her conversation with Pip, her ears drooping. “Pip didn't get a ticket.”
Pip put a hoof on her shoulder gently. “It's okay, Dinky. I'm just your li... li-a-son with Canterlot. Don't really need one if you're in Canterlot, do you? I'll be fine.”
Dinky nodded solemnly. “I know. Promise I'll bring you back a present, though. Maybe a few.”
Pip waved a hoof dismissively. “Nah, don't worry, you don't have to.”
Dinky giggled a little, her spirits raising. “Of course I don't have to. I want to.”
Pip smiled back. “Thanks.”
The two hugged and, though it might have been Icy's imagination, she was sure she saw a tiny little nuzzle in there.
Sunny chuckled, endeared by the display. “So, the rest of you are...?”
“'Fraid not,” Archer interjected. “Me and Scoots are gonna be sitting this one out, or at least the first few days of it. Don't worry, though – this goes on longer and whoever's responisble'll get a few arrows to the haunch, believe me.”
Icy tilted her head at the statement and, in her peripheral vision, she noticed her mother doing the same. Although she guessed that Sunny's puzzlement was not just from the statement but also from Archer's nonchalant way of saying it, having not, well... met Archer.
Scootaloo, on the other hand, looked considerably less happy about the situation. “Couldn't get the slip signed,” she said, a fair bit of annoyance in her voice as she looked off the side, perhaps to make sure she didn't imply she was angry with Icy. “My aunts are in Hoofington for a few days and I couldn't even reach them by phone.”
Alula raised an eyebrow. “You realize that they couldn't sign a form over the phone anyway?”
Now, Scootaloo did glare at Alula. “Yes,” she said haltingly, just about repressing her irritation. “But I figured if they said I could go, you could just forge their signature.”
Alula's eyebrow stayed thoroughly raised. “I could do that anyway,” She pointed out without a hint of emotion, positive or negative, at the prospect of breaking the rules and the law.
Scootaloo sighed. “Yeah, but they wouldn't know about it. And since they'll be back in a couple of days, they'll come home to find me missing. Last time that happened, I was gone for about half an hour and they called the police.”
“To find you? That's swee-” Icy began before Scootaloo cut her off.
“That or arrest me for making them worry. Still not sure. Anyway, once they're back, I should be able to get 'em to sign the thing, but till then, I'm kinda stuck.”
Lance stepped forward and gave Scootaloo a sympathetic look. She sighed and nodded.
“Thanks, I guess. Give 'em one for me, huh?”
Lance nodded, as if taking her request as a solemn vow.
“So what about you, Archer?” Icy asked. “Are your parents gone too?”
Archer chuckled. “Oh, you got no idea. Still, that ain't the reason - Miss Herder's always a little unsure about missions that take me out of Ponyville. Makes sense – with how many kids she's gotta keep an eye on, worrying about what one's getting up to in another city's gotta be a pain. And since we got that school trip up to the Crystal Empire in a month, she wasn't looking too kindly on me going to Canterlot as well.” She shrugged and gave an easy smile. “Don't worry, should be able to convince her but, like with Scoots, could take a few days.”
Icy nodded. “Okay, so it's the six of us plus Mom and... wait a second.” She counted the ponies present again, skipping over Archer, Pip and Scootaloo before she found the extra one. “Oh, Twist, what are you doing here?” Icy had barely finished the last word of the question before she realized how insulting that sounded. “I mean, er... Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, I just...”
“That'th okay,” Twist chirped, not seeming to notice Icy's faux-pas, “I jutht came to thay goodbye to...” her eyes flicked over Truffle before looking down and to the left, a blush creeping over her face, “to all of you and with you all luck with... I thould probably go, I've got to eep!”
Rolling his eyes, Truffle marched forward and wrapped Twist in a massive hug. He didn't even bother hiding his nuzzle, either, and Twist eagerly returned it, even as her face went redder than her hair. As the two separated, her eyes went out of focus and a wobbly smile spread across her face.
Truffle laughed. “Don't worry, I shall be seeing you soon, and I'll think of then every day until it comes.”
“Uh huh,” Twist replied, seeming to have barely heard him despite his volume. “Okay, bye bye bye bye bye...” She trailed off as she turned and stumbled down the street, as if drunk from the contact.
“Right!” Truffle called, a little forcefully even for him, as he turned back to the others. “Shall we get a move on?”
The others all nodded, Pip, Scootaloo and Archer all saying their goodbyes, good lucks and get 'ems and the rest walking up onto the platform.
As they went, Sunny leaned over her daughter's ears. “Honey, if you don't mind me asking, are your friends always like this?” she whispered
Icy giggled. “Not always, Mom,” she replied, “sometimes they get weird.”
“Canterlot!” Icy exclaimed in wonder as her eyes traced up the mountainsides, skimming up the even rock face, past the roads and train tracks that spiralled up and around and through the steep cliffs, all the way up to the shining city itself.
“Canterlot!” she repeated, marvelling at the city perched on the side of the mountain, unbothered by little things like gravity. It hung there like a gigantic koala, the only concession to its altitude being the waterfalls that flowed continually from its base.
“Canterlot.” she said once again, examining the buildings and architecture of the city – the spires of the castle, the towers of the houses and manors that may as well have been castles, the giant, looming shadows cast by the not-castles-but-still-big-enough-to-be seen buildings.
From behind her, Alula raised an eyebrow. “It's only a model.”
Icy mewled a little, putting the model of Canterlot back on the souvenir stand and turning back to her friends as they walked through the streets of Canterlot.
Shaking her head a little, she tried to remember where she was. “So, where should we go first?” She asked, looking around her as if she could see the landmarks through the sides of the buildings. “The castle? That'd probably be a good place to start.”
“Of course we're going to the Castle,” Dinky assured her.
“Near the castle,” Alula corrected. “The BEOID has its headquarters in the same building as the rest of the guard, so they need a separate building from the castle.”
Icy blinked at the acronym. “BEOID? Beeoid?” she guessed. Dinky and Truffle gave a little laugh.
“Bureau of Extranormal Observation, Investigation and Defense,” Truffle explained. “Someone high up likes to give these things long names. Most people in it just call it the Weirdness Patrol.”
“Ah!” Icy exclaimed, remembering that they were technically part of the guard. “Okay, that's... hold on, I thought we were called Iota Force.”
“This branch is,” Alula explained dispassionately. “However, there are many such branches of various kinds all over Equestria and the overall organization to which they belong is the BEOID. Or,” she gave a sniff, “the WP.”
Icy nodded, remembering the Princess telling her something like that. Although her mind quickly focused on the important thing. “So, we're not going to the castle, then?”
Alula sighed. “Icy, I appreciate that this is your first time in this city,” she said, though her tone was devoid of appreciation or irritation, “but we're not here on vacation. Something happened in the area that requires our attention and we need to address whatever the problem is before we get caught up in trivialities.”
“Oh, okay, I'm sorry,” Icy said quietly, her head drooping a little. Fortunately, this meant that her shoulder was low enough for Dinky to put her hoof on, a feat the tiny filly would otherwise need to stand on her hind legs to accomplish.
“Not to worry, Icy, we'll have time,” Truffle spoke at a normal volume into her ear, the closest he ever got to whispering. “Alula's just being a sourpuss.”
“I heard that,” Alula replied, not looking behind her.
“You were meant to!” Truffle singsonged back cheerfully.
Icy shrugged, about to dismiss the whole conversation when something occurred to her. “Hang on, though, shouldn't Canterlot have it's own... version of us? How come we need to come in to solve...whatever it is?”
“No point,” Alula replied. “We're close enough to Canterlot that we can come in whenever we're needed, so there's no reason to put two child teams in such close proximity.”
“Okay, but then why aren't we based out of Canterlot? I mean, it's the capital of Equestria, right? Isn't it more in danger and more needing protection than a little town like Ponyville? No offence,” Icy finished, having realized how that sounded the moment she said it.
“None taken!” Truffle smiled, waving off the remark a touch forcefully. “And, yeah, you'd think so but... well, how many creatures, villains and general bits of weirdness have you seen pass through Ponyville in the months you've been here?” He paused for a moment, letting Icy begin counting and realize she'd be at it for a while. “Yeah, turns out, Ponyville's kind of a weirdness magnet.”
“For a while, I thought it was intentional,” Alula offered, finally looking back and giving a slight smile. “Put a smaller town near Canterlot with something to attract more... unusual threats so as to deflect them from Canterlot.” She shook her head before turning it in front of her again. “But that's... probably not true. There's no effect or phenomenon I know of that could consistently attract that kind of thing.”
“And the princesses would never do such a thing!” Dinky added.
Alula paused for a second. “Sure.”
After a moment's awkward silence, Truffle continued. “So, yeah, turns out Ponyville sees a lot more weird stuff than Canterlot. Add to that the fact that most things that attack Canterlot are out of our league – big enough that the army or the princesses need to handle it – and that the royal guard is based here and, well, Ponyville needs us a lot more than Canterlot does.”
“Also,” Dinky added, “most of us already lived in Ponyville, so we figured it'd be easier if we didn't have to move.”
Icy nodded for a second before another thought occurred to her.
“Wait, all of you just happened to live in Ponyville as well when you joined?”
Catching her eye, Lance shook his head and pointed between him and Alula.
Icy blinked, a little surprised and a little ashamed at her surprise – it was embarrassingly easy to forget Lance was in a conversation sometimes. She always got the impression he'd be quiet even if he could talk.
After a moment, she refocused on her question. “Okay, so apart from Lance and Alula, you all happened to live in Ponyville when you formed this thing?”
“We did indeed,” Truffle said, sounding curious where Icy was going with this. “Didn't all come at the same time, of course, and Lance and Alula came down after we first formed, but the rest of us were all around when we were first needed.”
“But,” Icy paused for a moment, thinking about how to phrase her question, “isn't that kind of... convenient? Bit of a coincidence that you all happened to be in Ponyville when it needed a team like this, isn't it?”
“Not really,” Alula said with a level chuckle. “I refer you to the previous remarks regarding the term “weirdness magnet”.
Icy's eyes widened a little as she realized she couldn't really argue with that. Her eyes went to the side as she went off into thought about the matter, leaving the rest of the walk to be taken in a half-comfortable, half-awkward silence.
The headquarters of the royal guard was, sadly, a far cry from the palace in terms of spectacle – a short, wide, boxy building squatting in the shadow of the castle spires. It lay behind a huge training yard and several other buildings – barracks, armouries, mess halls and the like. It looked rather out of place next to them – an office building in the middle of a military complex.
Fortunately, the discrepancy faded when they entered the building, as they could no longer see the rest of the facilities, though it didn't get any more impressive. It was possible the other entrances were different – each branch had a different entrance for a different section of the building – but Icy doubted it.
Still, there were plenty of ponies in uniform around, so that helped.
One of them stopped when they saw the group.
“Ah, afternoon!” he said, trotting up to unintentionally loom over them. He was a lot more tall than broad (which was saying something, as he was far from skinny) and the smile on his face suggested intimidation was the last thing on his mind, but he still towered over the fillies a lot more than most adults.
Dinky, as usual, wasn't bothered by this as she smiled and waved. “Hiya, Mister Ton.”
The huge stallion laughed. “Corporal Ton – I'm on duty, remember,” He said, though he didn't seem that put out by it. “Wouldn't want Bridge to hear that, would we?”
“Where is the Colonel?” Alula asked.
Corporal Ton pointed down the corridor and indicated towards the left. “Should be in his office. Haven't seen him come out since breakfast, so if he's not in there, something'd be up. Probably have been kidnapped again.”
The others nodded and went in the direction he pointed, but Icy paused. “Wait, that can happen? He's been kidnapped before?”
The corporal nodded. “Few times. Once we even had to rescue him.” He blinked as he realized who had asked him that. “Oh, hello there. You must be Icy, the new member.”
Icy nodded a little shyly. “Well, I've been one for a few months, but...”
The large stallion chuckled. “Well, then it's a few months late, but...” he ruffled her hair with a surprisingly light touch, “welcome to the Weirdness Patrol!”
Icy giggled. “Thanks.” She went to leave before something occurred to her about that name. “Hold on, is that Weirdness Patrol as in ponies who patrol for weirdness or with it?”
Corporal Ton just smiled as he turned to continue on his walk. “Oh, I think you'll fit in here just fine.”
Icy frowned for a moment in thought before shrugging it off and trotting to catch up with the others, reaching them just as Truffle knocked lightly on an office door. Lightly, in his case, meaning without leaving any dents in it.
“Come!” said a voice from behind it. Truffle pushed open the door and they all filed in, seeing Colonel Steward behind his desk looking up at them.
“Yes, I thought I recognized that knock,” he said, his South Trottingham accent level and unamused.
“You said you have a case for us?” Dinky asked, a little quickly, perhaps to distract the Colonel from the potential damage to his door.
The Colonel nodded after a moment. “Yes. Rather an odd one, too. Even by our standards.” He pointed to a clipboard hanging over the edge of his desk. “There's an eyewitness account of the incident there. Would you mind reading it yourselves – I've got to finish these reports.”
Icy looked at the leaning tower of paper on the Colonel's left. They probably had quite a bit of time for it.
Alula lit the horn she didn't have a second ago, levitated the clipboard down and began to read it out loud. She was not the most engaging orator, to say the least, but they all got the details of what had happened – the saws, the chains, the shurikens, the plane and, finally, the name.
When Alula had finished, Truffle rubbed his chin. “So, the Paper Prince, is it?”
“That's what he called himself,” the Colonel said, the mound of paper beside him gone, presumably through dark magic. “Personally, I'd prefer his real name, but it'll do.”
“This is a report from the pegasi pulling the chariot?” Alula asked, not looking up or pausing to get an answer. “Is there one from the passengers? If they're unicorns, they might have detected if there was any unusual magic around this colt.”
The Colonel nodded, sliding another clipboard forward. “Yes, I'd hoped they might have too, but... well, see for yourself.”
Alula levitated the clipboard down again, this time setting it in front of the others so they could all read.
It was around the third time it described the backflip the unicorn mare did to dodge the colt's wild strikes after he'd spooked the chauffeurs with a minor conjuring trick that Dinky looked at the Colonel.
“I think they might be making some stuff up.”
“You astound me,” The Colonel replied in a voice flatter than the paper they were reading.
Icy sighed. “It might not be so bad if they were good at it.”
After a few more seconds, Alula finished the page and pushed it away, both being a fast reader and having a higher tolerance for cow-pies than the others. “So, they didn't even check for odd magic. Of course, why should I have expected them to be sensible?”
Dinky gave Alula a light shove. “That's not nice, maybe they just didn't think to.”
“Exactly,” Alula sighed.
Before this could escalate to an argument (or the closest Dinky could have, at least), Lance raised a hoof, and mimed pressing a button in front of his eye.
The Colonel shook his head. “No pictures – they didn't have a camera with them and probably wouldn't have thought to take one if they did. However, everyone there got a good look at the colt, so we were able to make a very accurate sketch.” As he was talking, he reached down into a desk drawer and pulled out a picture. Lance took it in a hoof and put it on the ground where they could all take a good look at it.
There was silence for a minute or so as they all took in the picture, memorizing it to the best of their abilities. Or, at least, Icy presumed that was what the others were doing – she was thinking of something else.
There was something wrong with the picture before her and she was trying to figure out what. The clothes were normal, even the tail sheath and mask, at least for someone trying to hide their identity. The coat colour wasn't hidden, but they rarely were – it was hard to change one's coat colour without a lot of money, an illusion spell longer lasting and more stable than most could achieve or being very good with dyes. Besides, with how many ponies there were with any given coat colour, it wasn't that much of a giveaway. So, his clothes were fine, his colours were fine, his cutie mark...
“Ah, hang on!” Icy exclaimed, turning the picture around to face her better. “He's wearing stuff to hide his identity – mask, hood, tail sheath, that kinda thing, right?” She put a hoof on the picture's hindquarters. “So why did he leave his cutie mark exposed? That's much more distinctive than his mane colour!”
The others all murmured as they saw what she was talking about. Even the Colonel looked slightly impressed, his lips pursing slightly beneath his moustache as she looked up at him.
“Colonel, do you have some kind of... registry for cutie marks?”
The impressed look dampened considerably, but didn't disappear completely. “Only for those with previous criminal records and we did think to check that.”
“Not the question,” Alula cut in. “You said: why would he leave his cutie mark exposed?” She thought for a few seconds before shaking her head. “Can think of a few possible reasons, but none likely.”
Icy shrugged. “Well, we might as well hear th-”
“Sh.”
Icy blinked in surprise at being shushed by Dinky. She was about to ask why she'd been silenced when she turned around and saw Dinky with her eyes closed, her face thoughtful and her mouth moving minutely, rapidly and silently.
After a few more seconds, she opened her eyes again. “Well, there might be one reason, but...”
Lance nodded and rolled his hoof forward, indicating for her to say it. However, Dinky just looked away.
“I dunno, I don't think I can say for certain until I've talked to him. Or at least seen him.”
Alula rolled her eyes. “Look, we need to know something so...”
“No,” Dinky interrupted – gently, but still interrupted, startling everyone a little. After a moment, she shook her head. “No, I'm not going to pretend I know him when I don't.”
“Well, that's all well and good,” the Colonel said, a little testily, “but we do need every piece of information we can get. And we don't know when you'll next get a chance to meet him.”
Dinky looked up, a little bolder than before. “Well, if I am right, then I don't think it'll be long.”
At that moment, the door burst open and Corporal Ton burst in. “Sir! We've picked up a distress flare!”
The Colonel's annoyed look vanished, replaced by a face of pure professionalism. “Right! Come along, I doubt this is a coincidence.”
As everyone else went out into the corridor, Dinky lingered for a moment.
“Right, where's the flare coming from, Corporal?” the Colonel asked as everyone surged into the Operations Room. It was a massive space filled with desks, machines and arcane devices that Icy couldn't possibly guess the function of. Taking up most of one wall was a giant Aetheroscope, it's screen marked with a grid overlay. Near the top-left hand corner was a bright orange light amidst the sea of shifting colours.
“Around C-2, Sir,” Corporal Ton replied, sitting down at the controls again.
“C-2, what's there?”
Icy gulped, suppressing her impulse to cry “My Battlecloud!”, instead leaning over and whispering to Alula. “I thought Aethe... I thought those scopes weren't that accurate.”
Alula didn't look away as she whispered back. “Usually, but distress flares are designed to be picked up more exactly – emit a special kind of light and a special kind of magical signature.”
Icy shrugged as she listened back into the exchange – it seemed like it was just a road leading to Canterlot, so she wasn't sure what could be happening there.
“Right,” the Colonel nodded, turning to a unicorn beside the scope, who was already lighting his horn, “Lieutenant Gate!” he called, pronouncing it “left-tenant”, much to Icy's puzzlement.
“Already preparing for transport, sir!” the Unicorn said, a slight strain to his voice as he focused on his magic. “Who's going?”
“All of them,” the Colonel replied, pointing to Iota Force as he turned to them. “Right, bunch up!”
Before Icy knew what was happening, the other four were packed tightly around her. “Er,” she began, raising herself up a little so she wouldn't have to talk into Truffle's side, “wouldn't it be better to send a few guards.”
The Colonel shook his head. “Not really, considering we can send all five of you with the same energy that would transport one of us.”
Truffle chuckled. “Probably more if I wasn't one of them, eh?”
There were a couple of small smiles, but no big laughs at that. Especially not from Icy, who was still confused. “How come?”
“The Square-Cube Law,” Alula said, her tone completely masking whatever annoyance she may or may not have been feeling at Icy's questions. “Basically, if we're half the length, breadth and depth, we're a quarter of the area and an eighth the volume. Give or take quite a lot, but you get the point.”
Icy really didn't, but it sounded scientific enough to her and she didn't want to cause any more bother, so she just hummed in affirmation.
“Right, ponies,” Lieutenant Gate said after a moment, his horn now glowing much brighter than before, “get ready for transport!”
Icy nodded slightly, her head's movement hampered by being surrounded, and tensed her muscles, bracing herself for whatever “transport” entailed.
Lieutenant Gates fired a beam from his horn that flew out in a wide angle towards the assembled team. As soon as the front of it hit Lance, the one closest to it, a white light spread near-instantaneously over him, then past him over the rest. After only a fraction of a second, it spread over Icy too and all she could see was bright white – not blinding, but omnipresent.
Then, after a couple more seconds, it faded again and they were out in a field, with Mount Canter off to their left, quite a distance away. There had been no feeling of falling through space, being fired at high speed or being chopped up, turned into energy then transmitted to a location, reassembled and turned back.
If Icy didn't know better, she'd almost think those Sci-Fi comics weren't entirely realistic.
After a moment, the group dispersed slightly, happy to not be pressed up against one another anymore.
“Wow, that was kinda...” Icy thought for a moment, “weird, but only cause it wasn't weird. Like, when weird is what you expect cause something's weird, then weird isn't really weird and so not-weird is weird cause it's weird it wouldn't be weird when it should be weird. Right?”
There was a brief pause before Dinky said: “Um.... yes?”
Alula turned to Icy, an eyebrow raised. “To be honest, it's not that weird. It's just a simple folding of space via magic, nothing weird about that.”
“Besides,” Truffle said from behind everyone, “if you want weird, then do I have a sight for you?”
Everyone turned to see what he was looking at, only to be stunned into silence by what they were witnessing.
A few hundred meters away from them, there was a road running perpendicular to the way they were facing. Racing down this road was a large cart pulled by two extremely burly stallions. The cart looked to be constructed of thick metal plates bolted together and the stallions were dressed in some sort of security uniform. Obviously the cart was transporting something important. An unusual sight, certainly, but not that bizarre.
However, behind the cart and, presumably, the reason it was going so fast, was what looked at first glance to be a pack of pure white ponies. However, looking for a little longer, Icy realized there was something odd about them. For one thing, there was only one fully grown pony among them, the rest being about the size of large colts or fillies. However, despite their short stature, they were all running just a little faster than most ponies of that age could, none showed any sign of tiring and they were all running in unison, other than one who was riding on the large pony's back.
Furthermore, straining her eyes a little to see at that distance, Icy could see that the ponies were bizarrely angular and almost all lacked faces. In fact, they seemed to be made out of folded paper. The only exception was the colt riding on the back of the largest, who looked organic, particularly in the way he was swinging a flail that looked half as big as he was above his head.
After a moment, Icy spoke. “Well, there's something you don't see everyday.”
Truffle laughed at that, breaking the silence and letting everyone stop staring at the sight. “Well, let's see if we can't make sure we don't.” He started running towards the fray before Alula's hoof stopped him.
“No, won't catch them that way,” she pointed at an angle as she shifted into a larger-winged pegasus, “go that way, road curves round, should catch them. Join you later.”
With that, she flapped hard and lifted off. Icy was about to ask where she was going when she realized there'd be no point, instead joining the others in running where she pointed.
At first, it looked like Alula was right – the road curved around a small hill in the field, so the cart and its pursuers took a while to travel it. Thus, by taking a more direct path, it looked like the group would intercept them.
However, as the cart came round the hill, there was a loud sound of metal striking metal. The cart rocked on its wheels before landing again. A few moments later, the stallions pulling the cart sped up, the strain evident on their faces even from a distance but their fear overriding it.
The group was nearing the path, but it looked like they would be too late unless they did something.
“What do we do?” asked Icy, panting a little from all the running. “I can probably slide to intercept it. Dinky, can you speed everyone else up.
Dinky shook her head, also a little flushed from the exertion thanks to her small legs. “No. I could maybe do all of us with costumes, but only if I didn't have to run at the same time.”
There was a second's pause before Icy saw Lance's head raise, indicative of an idea. Without warning, he picked up Dinky as he ran and threw her onto his back. He nodded to Truffle and Icy, then turned to Dinky and began indicating himself with his head.
Icy was about to ask what he was doing when she felt herself being grabbed as well and flung roughly onto Truffle's back. She looked over to see Dinky's magic envelop her and Lance, speeding them up considerably.
“Well, Icy,” being on Truffle's back, Icy felt his words more than she heard them, “let's see if I can't manage one of these slides, eh?”
“Might be a little cold,” Icy replied, raising her voice a little despite being on top of Truffle.
“Oh, don't worry about that,” Truffe chuckled, vibrating Icy a little, “I've got plenty of insulation!”
Shrugging, Icy gathered her energy and flapped her wings, focusing the wind forward to create a thin path of ice on the ground in front of them.
Laughing in exhilaration, Truffle accelerated briefly before leaping onto the ice, shooting forward on the slippery surface. As it turned out, Truffle was something of a natural – his wide stature, thick hooves and low centre of gravity giving him a natural stability. He wasn't exactly graceful, but he managed to keep a fairly straight trajectory along the extensions Icy managed on the path. Overall, she couldn't help but feel a tiny bit jealous.
As they got closer to the cart, they got a clearer look at what was happening. The fully grown origami pony veered off a little, coming to the side of the cart. The colt riding it, who looked nearly identical to the one they'd seen in the sketch, was swinging the flail above his head. There was something odd about that flail, but it was hard to tell from a distance and while it was in motion.
After a few swings, he slammed it into the side of the cart, producing a thunderous clang. The cart rocked again, a little further than before, coming halfway to tipping over, and when it landed, Icy could see a sizeable dent in its armour plating.
However, after that swing, the colt's eyes, hidden behind his paper mask but still just about visible, flicked in the direction of Icy and the group. A moment later, his head turned to follow them, and he smiled. With his free front hoof, he waved towards them and four of the smaller paper ponies broke off from the pursuit, running to intercept them.
Two of them reached Lance and Dinky first and lunged for them. However, the accelerated swordsman barely seemed bothered as he leapt out of the way, drawing his sword in half a flash and slicing the nearest one's head off. The contact briefly dispelled Dinky's time bubble, but she reapplied it just in time to duck the second one's strike.
However, that was all Icy could see of the battle, as her attention was drawn to the two coming for her and Truffle.
“Icy, freeze them, freeze them!” Truffle called out as they hurtled towards the two. He reared up slightly to shield her with his body if she couldn't.
Fortunately, Icy had already been gathering energy to extend their slide again, so it was just a matter of readjusting her aim. In a moment, the two paper ponies were encased in ice and immobilized atop a slightly shorter slide. They were not totally incapacitated – the ice was fairly thin and one could see that they would break out of it shortly. Not shortly enough, however, to pre-empt Truffle and her reaching them.
“Right, now jump and glide!” Truffle called. Not needing to be told twice (or probably even once, but she appreciated the reminder anyway), she leapt off Truffle's back and spread her wings. The sudden feeling of the wind rushing up and into them was jarring, given their frailty, but she managed to keep them extended and angled them into a glide.
Below her, she saw Truffle slam his hooves into the ground beside the slide. For a moment, she was confused about why he was doing that before she realized that he was pushing against the solid ground, accelerating himself even further. He did it twice more before he tucked his hooves beneath himself as he slid, turning himself into an equine cannonball.
The two paper ponies didn't stand a chance. With how fast everything happened, it was impossible to tell whether they shattered along with the ice, tore as paper normally would have or were just broken in the same way an ordinary pony might be. Whatever the case, they came apart and, the moment they did, all their motion and stability seemed to vanish, leaving only oddly folded paper.
The sight reminded Icy of something, but she couldn't recall what. Besides, the thought was quickly shoved out of the mind as she landed on top of Truffle again.
Truffle looked back at her over his shoulder. “How's that for synchronized skating, eh?”
They looked over to see that Lance and Dinky had already taken out their second assailant and both pairs were closing in on the cart.
The Paper Prince looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening for a split second before he broke into a smile.
“Take care of these guys, wouldja?” they were close enough to hear him shout to the large paper pony he was riding. “I'm going up top.”
As he was speaking, he slung the flail over his shoulder, pulled a few small squares out of his saddlebags and put one on each hoof. As his mount turned away from the cart, he leapt off its back, landing on all four hooves for a moment before a square paper spring on each one suddenly extended, letting him leap up on top of the carriage.
However, Icy didn't have long to look at this before the problem of the pony he'd sent took up the majority of her attention. It was too big for her to freeze for long and would probably take Truffle and Lance a while to put down or, at least, long enough for them to lose the cart and its new rider.
She looked to the side, thinking she could maybe go around, only to see that the road had begun to rise and a cliff edge lay a few metres from the right edge of the road.
Wait a second...
“Truffle, do you think you can deflect it?”
Truffle hummed as the two reached the end of the ice trail and he began running again. “Probably, but not sure about taking it out.”
Icy smiled. “I'll handle that, you just knock it to the right.”
Truffle nodded, looking unconvinced but open to ideas. He lowered his head, putting on a burst of speed towards the bigger paper pony. Icy crouched on his back for a moment, leaping off just before he hit it. She flapped her wings in mid-jump, freezing a long path next to them.
A path that Truffle knocked the paper pony onto, it's pointed paper legs giving it absolutely no traction. It tried to swerve, to turn off the ice-path, but too slow. Before it could manage it, it sailed off the edge of the road and the ledge, hovering in the air for a brief second and giving the closest thing an origami creation could manage to a look of “Help!”
It then fell, waving its legs around frantically as if to catch itself on some non-existent branch and quickly going out of sight.
Icy smiled before she remembered that she was still flying through the air herself. However, she managed to turn around and freeze herself a landing strip, sliding across it and onto the dirt.
She coughed for a second before looking up, seeing the others leaving her behind. Quickly scrabbling to her hooves, she ran after them, freezing herself a couple of paths until she was nearly caught up.
On top of the carriage, the Paper Prince gave an imperious sniff before gesturing at the two remaining paper foals, who ran forward, jumped onto each side of the cart and hung there, ready to intercept any attempts to climb it.
Icy was about to ask what they were going to do now. However, before she could, she saw Lance take his sword from its sheath and fling it towards the cart. It was too low to hit the Prince himself, as Icy first thought he was trying to do. Instead, it lodged itself in between the doors of the armoured cart. Lance then accelerated into a sprint and leapt up, landing on top of the sword and bending it down before leaping up off it. As he leapt up with his back hooves, he let his front hooves fall, turning his leap into a flip that allowed him to grab his sword out of the doors before he rose up to the roof. He sailed over the Paper Prince's head and landed in front of him, sword pointed toward him.
It was only her momentum that stopped Icy's jaw and hindquarters dropping in disbelief.
The Prince, however, gave less pause. “You just can't make good help these days, can you?” he called. As he tossed the springs off his front hooves and reached onto his back for his flail, Icy realized what was so odd about it. It was, predictably enough, made of paper, but not folded like his minions. It looked like the handle was one rolled up piece of paper, the chain was, of course, a paper chain, the main body of the flail was balled up paper and the spikes were paper cones.
It should have been no more dangerous than a spitball. And yet, as the Prince flung it over his shoulder and slammed it into the deck in front of Lance, it produced a loud clang that suggested it wasn't to be taken as lightly as it was wielded.
“You want somethin' done right...” He leapt forward, giving Lance a split second to leap out of the way of his strike. Fortunately, he did, giving a slash to his side, resulting in a flash of light and a yelp of pain but no blood.
They went for each other a couple more times, neither scoring a hit, while Icy thought through what she could do. There wasn't much she could think of, but the obvious did occur to her when the Prince next came to the edge of the cart.
She flapped her wings, sending a wave of ice over him and pinning him in place. Seeing his opportunity, Lance leapt at him with his sword over his head.
Unfortunately, neither had noticed that her aim had been slightly off – she'd frozen the colt's back hooves in place, but not his front hooves or his flail. As a result, he swung the giant paper ball in front of him, catching Lance in mid-leap and knocking him away. Icy heard him slide across the roof, but not fall – he must have grabbed onto the edge before he could.
Snorting, the Paper Prince swung his flail around a couple of times before slamming it into the deck behind his hooves. This easily shattered the ice, but it also sent the cart rocking again a little, making him nearly fall over.
Icy's eyes widened as an idea occurred to her. She fell back a little and spoke quietly enough that only Truffle and Dinky would hear her. “Could we try to knock him over?”
“I can, but I'll need a boost to catch up to it!” Truffle replied.
Dinky nodded, panting a little. “Okay, hold on!”
She lit her horn and her golden aura encompassed Truffle. Not wasting a moment (or, at least, not enough to be noticeable outside his accelerated bubble), he sprinted about five metres to the side of the carriage before turning and running, at his full speed multiplied by Dinky's full boost, at the side of the cart. The paper pony hanging there tried to intercept him and, to be fair, succeeded. It just quickly became apparent why getting between him and the cart was not a great idea.
Truffle leaped up at the cart, not seeming to care about what was in the way. He impacted the paper pony, the time-bubble dissipating from the contact but his momentum remaining. At first, the pony seemed to behave like an organic being being crushed, its paper skin bending in like ordinary flesh. It was only when it reached the point that normal skin would start getting damaged that this effect stopped and it instantly seemed to revert to ordinary paper, crumpling up without resistance.
There was definitely something about this that twigged Icy's memory, but she was a bit busy running to pin down what.
In any event, Truffle quickly hit the side of the cart once its origami guardian was no longer an issue. The cart rocked even more than it had when the flail hit it, making the ground shake for the ponies on the roof.
Lance, fortunately, had been standing facing backwards from the cart, so he had seen what the others were doing and was prepared for it. The Paper Prince, however, was not. It only made him unstable for a moment, but it was enough. The swing he had been going for whiffed completely, sending the head of his flail skidding across the cart's roof. It only gave Lance a split second's opening, but that was all he needed.
He lunged forward, his sword aimed down, and thrust it through one of the middle links in the chain and a few millimetres into the cart's roof, pinning it firmly in place.
As Icy watched the spectacle, a movement in the corner of her eye drew her attention away for a fraction of a second, seeing Dinky encase herself in her glow and flash up towards the side of the cart that Truffle had cleared.
Feeling a little left out, she unfurled her wings and gave as strong a flap as she could, lifting her a couple of metres in the air, and held her wings out in a glide despite her muscles' protests.
The Paper Prince gave his flail a few experimental tugs, but the chain was well and truly stuck. He looked up at Lance and smiled. “Pretty good, kid, pretty good!” he yelled over the wind, despite not looking that much older than Lance. “But you had to use your weapon for that, so we're both disarmed. Seems to me like a stalemate!”
“I wouldn't say that,” Truffle said from the side of the cart, causing the Prince's head to whip round. It was taking quite an effort for him to haul his considerable weight onto the cart, but he was just about managing it. “Stalemate usually means that there aren't too many more pieces on the board.”
As if to underscore this point, Dinky rushed up the side and climbed up behind Truffle, panting heavily, and Icy landed next to Lance, having to use everything she had not to pant just as heavily. Still, she knew a cue for a quip when she heard one.
“Stalemate? More like checkmate!”
Okay, so no one ever said it had to be a good quip.
Apparently, the Paper Prince thought so too as he snorted, though he was also panting pretty heavily for some reason. “Nah, see, checkmate means I've got no moves left.” He backed up slowly before hitting the edge of the cart, his rear hooves hanging off just a little. “And the Paper Prince ain't ever outta moves. You did good – good enough to stop me this time, not enough to catch me.”
As he finished speaking, he let his back hooves drop and thumped them against the side of the cart, causing the two paper springs still on them to extend and propel him backwards. The paper pony still chasing the cart saw him coming towards it and leapt up, catching him out of the air. Once he was firmly on its back, it started to run in the opposite direction.
“See you later, Kiddies!” the Paper Prince called out. “Let's hope next time you can OOF!”
Without warning, the paper pony bucked him off its back, swinging him round underneath it and pinning his hooves in place with its own, his head hanging over the edge of the cliff.
The four ponies still on the cart looked at each other for a moment before shrugging and dismounting the cart in their own ways. Icy spread her aching wings and glided down. Dinky, concentrating hard for a moment due to her own fatigue, sped herself up and hopped down the side. Lance grabbed the same side, swung down in the opposite direction to the cart's movement, did a flip to bleed some momentum and landed on all four hooves. Truffle, on the other hand, simply jumped, bouncing off the ground a couple of times before landing splayed out.
They all picked themselves up and cantered over to the prone Prince, who was still sputtering in incomprehension.
“Buh... how did you...?” He looked to the side at the approaching colts and fillies. “So, turned one of my own crea, er, my own subjects against me, didja? Well, dunno how, but it won't happen again, I promise you that!”
“Course it won't,” Truffle replied, putting a hoof on the paper pony's chest, “it'll be pretty hard to make any “subjects” in prison, won't it?”
The Prince chuckled. “Sure would, if I was goin'. Shouldn't get ahead of yourself, chubby.”
Truffle growled. “How dare you! I'm not chubby!” He grabbed a hoofful of his belly and waved it at the prince. “I am fat, thank you very much.”
The Prince looked a little taken aback at this response. “Huh. Well, guess I can't argue with that.” He shook his head and looked past Truffle, presumably to the retreating cart. “Still, it was pretty good though, wasn't it? I mean, almost takin' out an armoured cart with nothin' but paper? Can't say that wasn't impressive, right?”
Truffle was about to respond, probably to deny it if the look on his face was any indication, when Dinky cut in. “Yes. Yes, it was really cool.”
The Prince's smiled faltered, as if he was genuinely surprised at someone agreeing with him. “Really? Well, you just wait, little lady – if you think that was awesome, you ain't seen nothin' yet!”
Dinky shook her head a little sadly. “You don't have to, you know? I mean you've already pro-”
“And you're not going to!” Icy felt a little bad about interrupting Dinky, but she was really getting annoyed at the implication that he was going to continue these attacks. “We've got you, you've got no more minions left and you can't make anything else. How were you planning on getting away.”
The Paper Prince looked at her and chuckled nastily. “Well, you did get me, yeah, cause I miscounted. I thought I had two mi- subjects left, but one of them was yours. Trouble is, you miscounted too.” He looked to the side and nodded.
Suddenly, his last remaining minion leapt at Truffle from behind. Icy whirled around, realizing they'd forgotten about the one that was still hanging onto the other side of the cart, and flapped her wings. The paper pony froze, but not before Truffle had been rammed into the pony holding the Prince down, knocking it over and freeing the Prince's hooves.
As soon as he was able, the Prince grabbed the ground under his shoulders and slammed his back hooves into the ground, the springs propelling him into a backwards cartwheel over the edge of the cliff.
Lance leapt forward, trying to pin him down again but a moment too late. After a second, everyone rushed to the cliff edge and looked over the side to see what had become of the prince.
As it turned out, his fall had been quickly caught by a giant paper plane and he was flying away from the road faster than any of them could chase him. He looked up at them, gave a smirk and a mocking salute and flew off into the distance.
Snorting a little in frustration, Lance casually decapitated the frozen paper pony without even looking at it.
Icy came up and nudged him encouragingly. “Don't worry, we'll get him.”
Lance turned to her, his mask obscuring his expression, and nodded.
Meanwhile, a green glow enveloped the remaining paper pony, turning it back into Alula. “Well, that was something of a trainwreck.”
Truffle chuckled, about to put a hoof on her shoulder before being stopped by her glare. “Well, you still managed to get him, didn't you?”
Alula rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I shouldn't have had to. Now he knows about that trick and he'll be ready for it. And for me. If you had stopped him before, I could have...” she trailed off, looking to the side and breathing for a moment. “I apologize, this is not the time for recriminations.” There was a pause as everyone looked at her. “Handing out blame,” she clarified.
There was a collective “Aah!” of realization before Icy asked. “You're right, but I have to ask... Dinky?”
Dinky turned to her, her unintentional aura of cuteness still as strong as ever despite her sweat, meaning Icy had to really focus if she wanted to say something even vaguely or potentially critical. “Why'd you agree with him like that? I mean, yeah, it was pretty impressive, but won't that just encourage him?”
Dinky shook her head, a slightly sad look on her face, though this was whether due to Icy's words or the Prince's was impossible to say. “I don't think so. I'm pretty sure he'd keep going anyway. And I had to be sure about why he was doing this. Plus, I wanted to give him the chance to give up on his own.”
Icy raised an eyebrow. “And you expected that to work?”
Dinky gave a melancholy giggle and shrugged. “No. I didn't expect it. But I kinda hoped.”
Icy sighed and lifted an aching hoof to ruffle Dinky's hair. “Guess I can't fault you for that.”
There was a short lull in the conversation after that, everyone taking a few moments to catch their breath before Truffle spoke up. “Guess I should call HQ for a ride, eh?”
Icy shook her head, standing up. She stepped forward, a determined expression on her face – she was going to prove that a little bit of tiredness wouldn't stop her.
That is, until her dragging hoof met a rock and toppled her face down in the dirt.
“Ymmh,” she said through the ground, “Thmt Mmmmt bm m gmmd mdmm.”
“Right,” the Colonel said, his hoof to his chin as he thought. He was sitting in a small conference room with Iota force all around it in various states of fatigue, from Lance's slightly heavy breathing to Icy being splayed out on the floor with Dinky lying on top of her, equally messily.
Fortunately, neither Alula nor Truffle were quite at that level of exhaustion, otherwise the only one fresh enough to tell the Colonel anything would have been Lance. Which, naturally, would have presented certain problems.
Instead, Truffle and Alula had just finished recounting the group's encounter with the Paper Prince. The Colonel knew better than to interrupt them, so simply listened patiently, the only sounds he made being sips of tea.
Now, however, they were finished and he continued. “So, we're not just dealing with one young chap with talent-powered equipment – he can create servitors too.”
“Certainly seemed that way,” Truffle confirmed. “Mind you, most of them were small, but still.”
“But still,” Alula cut in, “that implied a great deal of power. It also implies that the more time he has to prepare, the stronger he'll be. So a surprise attack would be best.”
The Colonel nodded. “Indeed. Do you have any idea where such a surprise attack could take place?”
Alula grimaced slightly. “That would be the single slight problem with my idea.” She thought for a moment before turning to the small pony pile on the floor. “Dinky, any thoughts?”
Icy cocked an eyebrow in surprise as Alula said this. She was about to ask something when she felt Dinky slide off her back and onto her own hooves.
“Well, I do have some – I think I know why he's doing this, but I don't know if it's revelant.”
Dinky bowed her head a little. “Sorry. Anyway, he hides his face, but not his cutie mark, right?” She didn't pause for confirmation, instead continuing straight on. “And all of the stuff he did back there – he attacked the armoured cart, not the ponies pulling it. If he just wanted what was inside it, why didn't he just attack them and then go into the cart when it was stopped? And his attacking and leaping, it was all kinda... showy.” She shook her head, her face looking unusually contemplative.
“No, I think... I think the reason he leaves his cutie mark uncovered is because he wants people to see it. He wants people to see him, to see what he can do, to show that he can do it well.”
There was a lengthy pause as everyone took this in. After a few moments, the Colonel spoke up.
“Do you mean to tell me that this colt is robbing ponies, attacking armoured carts and stealing vast amounts of money... for attention?”
Dinky shook her head. “Kinda, but no, it's more like... like showing that what he can do is... cool, I guess? That it's impressive, that it's... it's worth doing.”
Icy blinked, languidly clearing her ear to make sure she'd heard that all right. It all made total sense and, now that it had been pointed out, she could see it too, but she was still impressed at Dinky's reading of their enemy.
Still, the others seemed to take it in stride. Alula in particular simply nodded along. “As you say, far from useless information, but doesn't help us to locate him in the short term.”
As the Colonel, Alula and Dinky started discussing the next move, Icy slowly raised herself up onto her hooves, trying to ignore the slight pain that came from doing so. She sidled up to Truffle and whispered to him. “Um, I don't mean to sound... nasty to Dinky, but I thought that Alula was... well...”
“The detective of the group?” Truffle supplied in, surprisingly enough, a similar whisper. Apparently, he could talk quietly, he just rarely wanted to. “Oh, she is, but I wouldn't say she's the only one. She's good at looking at things with logic – figuring out the whats and hows – but she isn't always so good at figuring out Ponies. How they think, what their reasons are, that sort of thing. She knows how to deceive them, but that's about it. That's where Dinky comes in, she's better at the whys.”
Icy nodded. “So... is Alula sensitive about it?”
Truffle scoffed slightly. “Hardly. If she was, she wouldn't have asked Dinky, would she?”
Icy raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you whispering?”
Truffle shrugged. “Don't want to interrupt them. Besides, you whispered first.”
Icy bobbed her head a little in thought – she couldn't really argue with that. Instead, she focused back on the discussion in the centre of the room.
“Right,” the Colonel nodded at Alula. “I'll arrange for all transports in and out of the city to carry distress flares, that should allow us to intercept him when he next tries anything.”
“Assuming they get the chance to use them,” Alula pointed out.
“I think they will,” Dinky piped up. “Remember, he wants to be seen, so they should know he's there long enough.”
Alula nodded. “Perhaps, but if they're hoofheld flares, he might be able to stop his victims firing them. Better make sure they're built in to the transports.”
The Colonel nodded, taking a pencil in his mouth and writing something quick in a notebook.
“Of course,” Alula continued, “he'll probably make quite a lot of servitors, which should be... fairly visible. But no sense taking risks.”
When she heard that, something popped up in Icy's mind, something that had been niggling at the back of it for a while but that Alula's words brought to the forefront.
“But I don't get it. How?” she asked, prompting all eyes to turn to her. “How is he able to do all this stuff?”
The Colonel put down the pencil. “It's not that strange. Somewhat rare, perhaps, but far from unknown. Some ponies with talents related to crafting learn how to put a bit of magic into their creations to give them a sort of life. Let them act like what they are or look like, that sort of thing.”
“Indeed, it's fairly simple to learn if you have the right talent,” Alula added. “I recently met a stallion who could make fully functional items out of balloons. Principle's the same.”
“No, no, I get that,” Icy said, a little annoyed at the assumption that she didn't know this, as reasonable an assumption as it was. “What I mean is: how is he able to do so much? I mean, making kinda-sorta-living ponies has got to take more energy than, like, a spring. And that flail was able to damage the cart's armour. Wouldn't he have to be at least an adult to be able to do all that stuff?”
That got everyone thinking.
“Well, the difference magically between an adult and child is actually fairly negligible, and some ponies have large magical stores than others,” Alula said, though it looked like she was just letting her mouth run while her brain figured out what to say, “but you're right. Even a powerful adult would be drained after that, so... that is a really good question.”
Icy smiled, a little proud of herself at being able to join in the discussion.
That evening, Icy was lying on the bed of the room she was sharing with Dinky. She was reading a comic, as she liked to think was her ground state, while making sure not to look at Dinky.
Not that Dinky was doing anything objectionable. Quite the reverse, in fact – she'd decided to write a letter to Pip, despite having only been here for one day. However, she was still learning to write with her magic and the sight of her, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration as she slowly moved the quill, was so adorable Icy didn't think she'd be able to look away if she saw it again.
The silence was broken by the door opening. Dinky's horn flickered out as she was distracted while Icy just looked lazily up to see Sunny Flight walk in. Dinky and Icy both put their papers to the side while Sunny looked around the room.
“Hmm, not bad for a barracks,” she said at the sparsely decorated but otherwise comfortable room. “Certainly beats some of the places I've camped out in, at least. Still, if I'm honest, not a patch on the Stantler.” She turned to Icy. “You sure you don't want to room with me? The room's big enough.”
Icy rolled her eyes. “No, Mom, I told you, I need to be here in case something happens and I'm needed.” She paused for a moment before adding: “Besides, I didn't want Dinky to have to sleep alone.”
Dinky blushed a little. “It's okay, Icy, I'll be fine if you want to...”
Icy shook her head. “No, that's okay. Like I said, I need to be here anyway.”
Sunny nodded for a moment before pausing with her head still up, looking off to the side and thinking. “Couldn't Alula sleep in here instead, though?”
“No, she always sleeps in the same room as Lance,” Dinky replied.
Sunny raised an eyebrow. “Why? Are they... you know...?”
It took about five seconds of thinking before Icy realized what her mother was implying (or, at least, realized as much about it as she was going to at her age).
“Oh! No, it's just that no one else can sleep near Lance.”
Sunny's eyebrow remained thoroughly raised. “Why not?”
Icy shrugged. “Well, according to Truffle, Alula sleeps like a log and Lance snores almost like a chainsaw, so it kinda works out.”
“Ah.” Sunny raised a hoof as the circumstances became clear. “So, what about Truffle?”
“Oh, Truffle's fine on his own,” Dinky replied.
“Actually,” Icy added, “he said no one else would be able to fit into a room with him.”
Sunny tilted her head. “He's not that fat, is he?”
“No,” Icy replied, looking away innocently, “but you probably shouldn't tell him that. Anyway, why are you here?” Icy's eyes widened as she realized what she just said. She started waving her hooves and opening her mouth to clarify that she wasn't trying to be dismissive or insulting, but her mother beat her to it.
“Oh! Oh, that's how it is, is it?” Sunny put a hoof to her head, her face a cartoonish mockery of pain. “You don't want to see you poor old mother! She can't even come and visit you without a reason, without wanting something! I see how it is! I'll just leave and go to cry into my pillow, lamenting the years wasted raising such an ungrateful daughter. In fact, I don't think I even need to leave.” She grabbed a pillow from Icy's bed and pressed her face into it, clearly enunciating “Boo hoo hoo hoo!”
Dinky giggled at the display and Icy rolled her eyes, a slight smile poking through her exasperation. “Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You done?”
The instant she heard the word 'sorry', Sunny tossed the pillow back onto the bed, her smile being revealed as if it had never left. “Completely! Anyway, I just wanted to check on you, hear what's been going on, how much of Canterlot you've seen, that kind of thing.”
Icy's face fell as that last item was said. “Oh. Well, to be honest, I haven't really had a chance to even go into the main city. We had to get into a... fight, kind of? Almost as soon as we got here.”
“Really?” Sunny asked. “A fight that took hours?”
“No, it was over fairly quick,” Dinky piped up, “but we had to chase a cart that was going around 17 miles an hour.”
Icy nodded, filing away Dinky's ability to accurately determine the cart's speed to be impressed by later. “Yeah, so once it was done, I was kind of... bleeeh!” She stuck her tongue out of her wide open mouth, lolled her head to her side and splayed her legs out in all directions to pantomime her exhaustion.
“Oh.” Sunny looked away awkwardly. “Well, I would offer to take you out to look around now – on my back if necessary – but...”
Icy smiled in understanding and gratitude at her mother's willingness to help her. “Yeah, it's kinda late.”
Sunny nodded. “Exactly. Also, the kinds of places in Canterlot that are open and interesting at night are the kinds of places fillies really shouldn't go.”
Icy just nodded, not questioning exactly what her mother meant.
“Tell you what,” Sunny continued after a moment, “how about we go out and about tomorrow morning? I don't have to be at the BoCEaGS at any particular time and there probably won't be anything for you to do for a couple of hours, so that seems like it'd work.”
Icy thought for a moment before nodding. “Yeah... yeah, it should. I was hoping to go to bed early tonight anyway.” She looked around her bed at the various comics she'd already read. “Compared to normal,” she added before finishing with, “Would seven o'clock be okay?”
Sunny's eyes widened. “Well, if you're sure, then I'm fine with that.” She turned to leave before blinking for a second and turning to Dinky. “Hang on, though, I don't want to wake you if...”
Dinky cut her off with a shake of her head. “No, that's usually when I get up anyway. Actually, I could maybe give you my letter to post while you're out, if that's okay.”
Sunny smiled in realization. “Of course, mailmare's daughter. That'd be fine, Dinky.” She lit her horn and opened the door behind her. “See you tomorrow, then, girls,” She said as she left the room.
Dinky smiled after her for a second before unrolling her letter again. She lit her horn for a moment before dousing it and turning to Icy.
“Icy, what's the... Bow-keegs?”
Icy sighed a little at the awkward acronym. “B-little-o-C-E-little-a-G-S. Where Mom used to work. The Bureau of Carto-”
She was cut off by a massive yawn from Dinky.
“Sorry,” Dinky said, lighting her horn and picking up the quill again, “I should probably finish this and get to bed.”
Icy nodded. “Good idea, there's only three more issues to this story arc, so once it's done, I should probably go too.”
Dinky looked out of the corner of her eye at the various comics strewn about the bed and the sizeable pile on the bedside table. “Er, Icy, how many comics did you bring?”
Icy grimaced slightly. “Well, you know my suitcase?”
“The one that you needed the porter's help to get on the train? Yes.”
“That many.”
That night was... interesting, at least to start with. A few minutes after they had gone to bed, Icy had gotten up and, briefly forgetting there was someone else in the room, opened the window to let a bit of the freezing winter air in.
This, naturally, got Dinky's attention. As it turned out, she was not nearly so enamoured with the cold as Icy was. Alula would later explain it as the same law that made them easier to teleport – something about surfaces and areas and volumes that Icy sort of understood. However, at the time, it simply meant they were at a slight impasse about what to do with the temperature.
Now, this would have been solved in a matter of seconds were it not for the fact that both ponies were so polite. As such, Dinky insisted that Icy open the window to make herself more comfortable and that she'd been fine with just an extra blanket or five. Meanwhile, Icy insisted she close it and that she wasn't that dependent on the cold and that, even if she was, she could just use her abilities to cool herself, regardless of how tiring that would be.
Eventually, Icy won the debate by freezing the window shut. Not that Dinky was trying to force it open (yet, at least), but Icy argued that, if the room wasn't warm enough to melt the ice immediately, it wasn't warm enough to warrant opening the window. This did settle things before it could blossom into a full-blown argument – Icy couldn't really imagine Dinky getting angry like that, but she didn't want to risk seeing it. However, it also meant both went to bed slightly uncomfortable – Icy physically, because of the temperature, and Dinky mentally, because of having lost and not being able to make Icy more comfortable at her own expense.
Sadly, neither of them noticed the radiator in the corner of the room or thought to simply turn it down.
However, after that initial stumbling block, things settled down and they both got a good night's sleep.
A sleep that was sadly interrupted as Icy felt a hoof shaking her awake.
It took a moment for her to gather her thoughts enough to register things like movement and reality, and another to register the small size of the hoof shaking her.
“Okay, okay, Dinky, I'm getting up.” She let out a massive yawn and, with a colossal amount of strain, managed to open her eyes. The world was blurry, of course, but she could just about read the glowing hands of the clock on her bedside – 6:30.
“Kind of early, isn't it, Mom. I thought you said...” she trailed off as her vision cleared enough to recognize colours – that the adult behind Dinky was not the bright yellow of her mother but the muted green of a uniform.
“Yeah, sorry about that, Miss Flight,” the voice of Corporal Ton echoed in her head for a moment, “but I'm afraid he's struck again.”
“Well, I'll say this for the colt,” Truffle said as he looked over the tableau, “he knows how to make a statement.”
They were standing in the middle of a street in the less-developed side of Canterlot – that is to say, a pleasant residential suburb that most of the nobility avoided as if being middle-class was somehow infectious. In front of them was an interesting sight – three adult stallions, all unicorns, hanging upside down from one street light each. Their hooves were all bound with paper chains – the front and back hooves bound separately, then another chain looping around those chains and up over the lights. On their horns were shiny black rings – magical inhibitors or, as they were often colloquially known, “horncuffs”. While not impossible for a civilian to acquire legally, particularly if one was willing to go into certain shops that, well, a colt the Prince's age really shouldn't have been frequenting, they tended to be regarded as solely professional equipment. As such, the Prince had most likely acquired these on the black market – sadly, there were plenty such dealers who wouldn't think twice about selling to a child if said child had the money.
Below the horncuffs, though, were curious-looking devices. Each one was a square frame of folded paper, far wider than the horns, with four spikes going inwards. Despite their paper construction, the spikes looked remarkably sharp and were poking their horns in what looked like a very uncomfortable way.
Icy assumed that they were to make absolutely sure the unicorns couldn't summon up enough magic to break through the inhibitors – an unlikely prospect, but still possible, as they weren't military grade. The only other explanation was that the Paper Prince just wanted them to look silly. Which, admittedly, was a possibility, but hanging them upside down from paper chains would do that anyway. And the deep pink origami rose in each of their mouths, preventing them from speaking, was just icing on that particular cake.
The house behind them was also slightly altered – above the open front door was a big, paper arrow pointing down into the entrance. Inside was an ordinary looking house but, towards the back in the kitchen, Icy could see that the massive stove had been moved aside and the tiles beneath it taken off. Icy couldn't see what was beneath the tiles, but there was another arrow above it pointing down, so there was clearly something down there.
“So, what is all this?” Icy asked Corporal Ton after a few moments.
“Smugglers, it looks like,” Corporal Ton replied, ignoring an indignant “Mmph!” from one of the bound ponies. “Using a tunnel beneath this house that goes down into the caves below the city and through the mountain. Looks like it ends in some kind of cave under the river.”
“Have you questioned these stallions yet?” Alula asked, looking intensely at the hanging ponies.
“Not yet, wanted you all here before we did,” Corporal Ton replied. “Also, those chains are pretty stubborn – got someone fetching a pair of bolt cutters now.
As if on cue, a unicorn in uniform came running up to them, what looked like a pair of bladed pliers in her magic.
“Thanks, Private,” the Corporal said, taking the tool and placing it around the top of the chain. “Now, make sure to grab hold of him when I cut, don't want him to fall on his head.”
The unicorn, whose nametag identified her as Private Grunt, nodded and lit her horn, taking the chain in her magic as Corporal Ton slammed the cutters shut.
However, the instant it was cut, the rest of the chain seemed to suddenly remember that it was made of paper and crumpled instantly, the part below Private Grunt's aura tearing and sending him plummeting towards the ground. Fortunately, Grunt's reflexes were better than her foresight, so she caught the bound pony before he hit the ground.
“Yeah... might want to hold on to the pony next time,” Corporal Ton said with a good-naturedly withering glare.
Private Grunt apologized as her magic grabbed hold of the paper rose in the stallion's mouth and pulled. For a moment it stuck in there before the magic aura intensified and it flew out with a loud pop.
The stallion groaned, moving his jaw around silently, no doubt trying to get some feeling back in it. He tried bringing a hoof up to it, but the chains binding them together remained solid, having been separate from the one holding him upside down.
After a few moments, Private Grunt left to bring down the other two while Corporal Ton walked up to the prone stallion, looming over him just a little.
“So, you and your mates were using this place to smuggle things into the city, right?”
The stallion frowned but nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we were.” The other two started to protest (or, at least, make protesting “MMPH” noises) before he interrupted them. “Oh, give it a rest guys! Face it, we're busted. No real way we can fudge that we weren't, might as well make it easy on ourselves.”
Corporal Ton nodded. “That's very helpful, sir.”
The stallion snorted. “Nah, just common sense. Still, though, eleven years without you people having any idea about us? That's pretty good, huh?” He gave a half-amused, half-patronizing smirk. “Guess it's true what they say about the guard – unless it makes a show of itself, they couldn't catch their own tail. Too busy watching the skies to look down under their noses- OW!”
He looked to his side where Truffle had just smacked him. “Hey, that's police brutality, that is!”
Truffle shrugged. “No it isn't – I'm not police.”
The stallion was about to argue when Alula interrupted him. “As fascinating as this is, do you think we could talk about exactly how you got caught? You know, the colt with the paper powers?”
“Huh?” The stallion looked at Alula strangely. “You mean he wasn't one of yours?”
Alula sighed. “If he was, why would he have left you like this instead of bringing you in himself? And I'm guessing he took some of your loot.” She paused for a second for the stallion to nod before continuing. “Believe me, we want him caught just as much as you do.”
“Ah, so it was a bit of unfriendly competition?” The stallion hummed for a moment. “Alright, I'll tell you what I remember. It started when...”
“Hold on a moment,” Corporal Ton said before waving over one of the ponies looking over the crime scene. “Private Sprite, you know the Flashback spell, right?” At the mare's nod, he turned back to the stallion. “Do you submit to it?”
The stallion sighed. “Yeah, probably for the best. Heck, no reason not to, right, ain't like it's dangerous.”
As the mare lit her horn, Icy turned to Alula. “What's a Flashback spell?”
“Memory aid,” Alula replied, not taking her eyes off the stallion. “Lets you recall exactly what happened in a specific timeframe for long enough to communicate it – everything that happened, every word that was said, every breeze you felt.”
“Huh, so it makes you tell the truth?” Icy asked.
Alula shook her head. “No, you can still lie – although I don't think he will, will he?” She raised her voice a little, making sure the stallion heard her but continuing before he could respond. “And it's still just one pony's perspective, as vulnerable to bias and interpretation as any story. It just means you're able to communicate as much about what happened as possible.
Icy thought for a moment. “So, it basically means he can tell the story exactly how it happened, to him, at least, without worrying about forgetting or misremembering things?”
“Essentially.” Alula turned an eye towards Icy and gave a slight smile. “It's a pretty useful thing.”
“Right, all ready!” Private Sprite said, holding what looked like a lot of energy on her horn.
“Okay, go for it,” Corporal Ton replied before turning back to the stallion. “And, like the little lady said, please don't lie.”
The stallion gave a slightly bitter chuckle. “Oh, I won't. Like you said, I want this guy caught too.”
As he finished speaking, the spell hit him and his eyes went white.
So, it all went down around three this morning. We were all on our boat, coming up to the bend before we reached the county line. Ain't too many inspectors before it, so no need to hide before we get into the county. Anyway, we did it like we always do – all at the same time, I made us an air bubble, Skiff brought the boat down to the bottom of the river and Mirage cast the illusion spell – made us blend right in with the water. Real neat trick, no wonder you didn't catch us for... yeah, yeah, alright.
So, anyway, we went down under, like we'd done a million times before when we saw something weird in the water on our port side. Was a bit hard to see at first, but 'Rage shifted the illusion a little to make some light – risky, I know, but we weren't in a dangerous zone yet – and we were able to see it properly.
It looked like... Well, I mean, it was a paper fish. But not like the ones you usually see, this one didn't have a solid body, it was split between the top and the bottom, like a mouth. Not only that, but at the front, each half ended with a big folded tooth, like some sort of piranha. But the weirdest thing was that it wasn't just floating there, falling apart like paper should. No, it was swimming along, comfy as anything, like it was a real fish. It was swimming right next to my air bubble, so I reached out to it.
Yeah, yeah, I know, not the smartest move I could have made, but I'd like to see you see that and not get curious.
Moment my hoof got near it, it tried to bite me. No, seriously, it did. The tail... well, tails, I guess, there were two folded but up till then they'd been together... anyway, the tails split apart and the paper opened up and lunged at me. Luckily, I pulled my hoof back just in time – see this nick on my hoof? Yeah, carved that like it was going through butter. If the whole thing had been in its mouth, I'd be one hoof short right about now. Made a real weird “chomp” noise, too.
We all looked at each other. Didn't say anything, didn't have to – when you've been doing this as long as we have, you learn to keep your mouth shut even when things get weird. Anyway, we were about to decide if we should do something about it when another chomp noise came from starboard. We looked over and there was another one.
Then we heard a lot more chomps behind us.
We turned around and, let me tell you – wow! There must have been a dozen of the things, all swimming behind us, and a few above us looking ready to chow down if we tried to surface.
Still, though, they didn't seem to be coming for us. I mean, obviously, they couldn't swim in our air bubble, but even so, they didn't look like they were going to attack us yet. Just waiting for us.
At least, that's how it was until we stopped for a second to figure out what was happening. Then they got real busy, swimming around, chomping, looking real hungry... for bits of paper, at least.
After a few moments, we got the message – we weren't being attacked, we were being corralled. Not something we were too keen on, but we couldn't really do much about it then. So, we went along with it for a bit.
Course, we were ready to bolt the moment they tried to get us away from our hideout but, turns out, that's where they wanted us to go. Was kind of bizarre, to be honest with you. Fact, at one point we tried to go another way to see if they'd let us and got a nasty nip in the side of our boat for it.
So, to our hideout we went, under guard it looked like. Followed us as we came up to it and ducked into the cave. Even followed when we surfaced, just waiting there, their paper jaws sticking out and occasionally biting at nothing.
We got out, real careful-like, and unloaded the cargo with our horns. Normally we'd have had at least one guy getting hooves-on, but with those things under us, we didn't want to take any chances. Once it was all unloaded, I got to admit, I got curious. So, I took a piece of driftwood lying in the cave and lowered the end of it toward the paper piranhas.
Soon as it got within jumping distance, they were off. The nearest ones leapt up, bit clean through it. I dropped it in surprise and the rest of them swarmed around it, chomping it to splinters in about three seconds.
“Yeah, sorry about them,” we heard a voice come from a dark corner of the cave. “Only put enough life in them to swim and bite, so they ain't the brightest. Still, they got you here.”
“We were coming here anyway,” Skiff grumbled. He didn't look too happy with the nicks those fish had given his boat. While he was talking, Mirage lit up his horn, showing us who we were talking to. Turns out, it was just a colt, about the same age as you lot. He was wearing a white hoodie with... huh, picture? Actually, yeah, that's exactly what he looked like. Anyway, he was sitting in the corner, hindhooves up on the table and our schedule book open in his lap.
What, course we have a schedule book – we're traders, ain't we? Gotta keep account of all the comings and goings, right?
Anyway, he just smiled at us. “Maybe, but I wanted to make sure. Plus, it made quite an impression, didn't it?”
'Rage grunted a little. “Yeah, it did, but how the...” well, he said a word I don't think kids should hear, though this colt did, “did you know about us? Nopony knows about us.”
The colt chuckled. “Oh, I didn't, not at first. I didn't know you were smugglers, I just saw you were comin' upriver with cargo on one of my flybys. Thought you might make a good target... or at least, the best I was gonna find comin' into the city by river. Imagine my surprise when you suddenly vanished beneath the surface.”
Skiff snorted. “What, d'you think we're stupid or something? We always check the skies when we go under. We'd have seen you if-”
“Too high up,” the kid interrupted, sounding just as annoyed that Skiff didn't believe him. “I was well above the cloud layer, you wouldn't have seen me. I know, cause you didn't. But I could see you – amazin' what a pair of binoculars can do, ain't it? Even if they are just a pair of paper tubes.”
'Rage thought for a moment before asking. “Okay, guess that sorta makes sense, but how'd you follow us?”
The colt shrugged. “Again, I didn't, I just folded myself a turtle to follow you. Under the boat, of course, since there ain't no reason your illusion would go down there, right?” he snorted, his smug smile dropping a little. “What? Think that just cause I'm an earth pony I don't know jack about magic?” The smile returned. “Anyway, he followed you – good thing you only go at night or you might have spotted him – came back to me and guided me to this little bolt-hole. After that, it was just a matter of figurin' out when you'd be gone and back,” he tossed the ledger onto the table, “and waiting for the right day to start my little spree.”
'Rage looked back at the boat and I could see him thinking about how to extend his illusion. While he was doing that, me and Skiff kept our eyes on this colt.
“Alright,” I said, “so you've found us. So, whatcha want? You wanna join us? Or take our loot for yourself?”
The colt swung his legs down slowly and climbed to his feet. “Nah and already did.” He stretched out, groaning a little as his spine popped. “Nah, what I want is to take you three down, hang you up outside and show you to the whole city.”
We all looked at each other for a moment before lighting our horns all at once.
“Well, see,” I said, “that's gonna be a problem, squirt.”
The colt sneered at us. “What is it with you unicorns? You think that just cause you got magic that makes you all-powerful. Makes you better? Means you never have to worry about anythin'. Well, I got news for you – those magic twigs on your heads don't mean a damn thing if you can't use them.”
We all paused, a little confused about where he was going with this.
After a few seconds, I said, “Well, maybe, but I dunno if you'd noticed, but there's three of us and one of you. 'Less your little fishy friends can fold themselves some legs, I think we've got you outnumbered and outgunned.”
The colt smiled again, but it was even less nice to look at than the last one. “Outgunned? Yeah, I can see that but, like I said, it ain't the guns, it's whether you can fire them. But outnumbered? Maybe if you count size – half the size means half the numbers and that kinda thing – but otherwise,” he snorted into a nasty laugh, “hoo boy am I not outnumbered.”
We all looked around us, left, right and behind, trying to see what he meant, but he just shook his head. “Nope, wrong way. Here, allow me,” He said with a sarcastic bow. Then he started whistling.
It was a real high pitched whistle. Little annoying, but nothing too bad. Least, at first. After a couple of seconds, there were these little noises around the whistle. These kinda chitters and squeaks. Took a moment to realize that they weren't coming from the colt, but from behind us. And above us. We turned around and, well...
Bats. Loads and loads of little paper bats came swooping down at us from the cave roof. Couldn't tell how many there were – twenty five? Forty? Fifty? By the time we'd figured out what we were looking at, they were on us, flapping round our head, ramming us, getting in our eyes and whacking our horns before we could cast anything.
We got driven away from each other, part of the swarm focused on each of us. Couldn't tell what happened to the others, I was too busy dealing with my own flock. Tried batting them away but they were too damn quick and the hurt they were giving my horn wasn't helping.
Ain't sure how long I was fighting them, but before long I felt something wrap around my front hooves and force them together. Looked down and, well, take a guess what it was. Hint: the same damn thing on them now. Before I could do anything, he wrapped another one round my back legs, and stuck these things on my horn. I fell down and the bats didn't fall with me – small mercies, I guess – so I tried powering up a spell but this damn cuff stopped it. Couldn't even try and power through it either with these frigging spikes poking it.
I opened my mouth to call out and warn the others – doubt they'd have heard me but it was worth a try – but then he pointed at me and one of the bats flew into my mouth. Tasted disgusting and stopped me saying anything. Could only watch as he strolled up, casual as anything, and took the others down the same way. Didn't even hurry or nothing. If anything, he went slower than you'd think.
Once he'd got us all on the floor and helpless, he sneered down at us. Didn't say anything, just went over to a corner and pulled out... well, it was kinda weird. It was a pile of paper, but real big, bigger than he was, and covered in plastic wrap. I guess to keep the water out of it, I don't know. Anyway, he unwrapped it, took a piece and started folding, having to use both hooves, his mouth and sometimes his body on each crease.
He looked up at us. “Sorry, this might take a little while, just hang tight for a while, kay?”
I tried to follow how he was folding the thing but I got lost real quick. All I know is, about five minutes later, he's done and there's a paper pony standing there, even smaller than him. Weirder, the moment he did the last crease, a weird kinda glow came over it and it... well, it didn't start moving, but it just looked... stronger, you know? Like it had become more real somehow.
He did the same thing two more times – was a real long and awkward time, I can tell you. Once he'd done, he waved at them. Now they started moving. Went over to each of us in turn, picked us up, ignoring our struggling, and carried us over to the lift we use to get up and down the mountain. As they did, the colt himself went and did something to each of the bats and then each of the piranhas. Couldn't see what exactly, but it looked like he was giving them an extra crease. Each time he did, another glow came on the thing he was folding for a second, then went out and, well, they turned back to just paper, looked like. Bats fell to the ground, piranhas started dissolving in the water.
After that was all done, he came onto the lift himself. “Sorry about that, didn't wanna leave any loose ends, know what I mean?” he said. He jerked his head towards the lift's pulleys and his little minions went over and started pulling. They were stronger than they looked, but still tiny, so we were rising real slow.
He looked at us... well, not us so much as what was in our mouths. He looked thoughtful for a moment before saying “Ah! I got it!” He took three more pieces of paper, normal-sized this time, and folded three roses from them. He then reached down and plucked out the bat from my mouth. I was about to ask him what was going on, but before I could, he shoved the rose in my mouth. Did the same to the others, too. Only 'Rage got anything out and that was just another word kids shouldn't hear.
To be honest, even if I could complain, I wouldn't – the roses actually didn't taste half-bad. Well, they started to after a couple of hours, but it was nice while it lasted.
Anyway, not much else to tell – brought us up into the house, hung us up outside and left us to rot. Hung there for hours, got seen, you got called and that's where we are now.
Miss Sprite nodded as she lit her horn again, dispelling the dictation spell she'd placed on the notebook and quill she was holding. She tore off the notebook, gave it to Corporal Ton, saluted and went back inside the house.
“That all you need?” the stallion asked.
Alula nodded. “For now. If there's anything else, we'll be sure to ask you again. It's not as if we won't know where to find you.”
The stallion gave a half-amused snort. “No chance of getting a lighter sentence for helping you out, then? Or at least getting outta these damn chains?”
Rolling his eyes, Corporal Ton called over a few uniformed ponies and had them stand guard over the stallion while he cut the chains. “It'll be taken into account, sir. Don't worry, you'll get a fair trial, just like this colt will.
The stallion grumbled, sounding a little unhappy at the prospect of a fair trial for the Paper Prince as he was led away. Corporal Ton then went over to unchain the other stallions while the members of Iota Force huddled together.
“Well, that was interesting, don't you think?” Alula said.
Truffle hummed loudly and Lance put his hoof to his chin silently, but after a moment they both shrugged.
Icy, too, wasn't feeling flush with new information. “I guess. Though... was it just me or was there something weird about what he told us?”
Alula raised an eyebrow. “Not really. It seemed to line up with how his abilities work and how he operates.”
Dinky nodded in agreement. “And I'm pretty sure he wasn't lying so, with the flashback spell, it was probably pretty accurate.”
Truffle, on the other hand, gave an encouraging smile. “Well, I didn't notice anything wrong either, but I trust your judgement, Icy. I don't suppose you have any idea what was wrong with it.” At Icy's shrug, he gave one of his own. “Well, give it some thought, maybe you'll come up with something.”
“In the meantime,” Alula said, cutting off any response, “we learned some pretty valuable information.”
“Yeah,” Dinky said, her eyes going up and to the left as she thought. “He seems to have a real problem with Unicorns. And I was right, he definitely wants to be seen.”
“More... immediately important,” Alula said, a little quickly but not dismissively, “we learned his methodology. He said he was looking for a target that was going via river. So first he went for a flying chariot, then a ground-bound cart and finally a river boat. Suggests a pattern, doesn't it?”
“That it does,” Truffle responded after a moment. “Land, sea – well, water at least – and air. But then where'll he go for next?”
There was a moment's pause as everyone thought before Icy answered. “What about trains?”
Alula nodded, her eyes going right as she rapidly thought. “Yes, that would make sense. If he's going for another kind of transport, that would be the next logical step.”
Icy nodded. “Yeah. Also... train robberies are kind of a thing for robbers and, if Dinky's right and he wants to make a show of it, that'd be a good way to do it.”
Truffle's hoof landed hard on her back. She knew it was a gesture of camaraderie and not an attack due to the fact she was still standing, but it knocked the wind out of her nevertheless.
“Good thinking! Back to HQ, then – we'll be ready for the little princeling this time!”
Icy sighed as she looked at her cards. As it turned out, “this time” wouldn't be for a considerable while.
They'd got back to base around eight o'clock in the morning and decided what to do next – all trains were equipped with distress beacons to be pulled in case of breakdown, robbery or other emergency, so there was little danger they'd miss the Paper Prince's next move. So they'd settled down to wait.
At first, Icy was rather pleased with this, as she thought it meant she could go out and see the city. However, fortunately for her dignity, she remembered that she needed to be there when the alert sounded before suggesting this – she had no wish to come across like a ditz or a tourist, though she was technically the latter and considered the former more of a possibility than she liked to admit. So instead, she simply settled down to read some comics. If she couldn't rely on that, what could she rely on?
After about three hours, however, she had more or less exhausted all the comics she immediately had on her and didn't want to go and get more, either from her case or a shop, for fear of missing the call to action. It took great effort not to groan at every half-hour that passed with nothing happening. No matter how many times she told herself that, no, it still wouldn't have been a good idea because something could have happened and you had no way of knowing one way or the other so you were right to stay here... well, she couldn't help but consider how many trips she could have made to her room and back and how many stacks of comics roughly as tall as she was she could have theoretically transported. Not that she had that quite many, but this was only in theory.
After her normal go-to had been exhausted, she'd spent a while going over the transcript of the smuggler's story. Something still seemed wrong about it, but she was having absolutely no luck figuring out what. She'd narrowed it down to something about the description of the fight but, beyond that, she still couldn't say. It didn't help that it only took about twenty minutes of combing through a written report, sentence by sentence, before she was so utterly bored that she barely even cared about whatever was wrong any more.
She looked up at the clock on the wall. That had been about four hours ago. It was now three thirty so – she did some quick mental arithmetic – about seven-and-a-half hours in total that she'd spent waiting.
She glanced over at Dinky, sitting in the corner of the room. Her horn was faintly shimmering and there was a slight golden glow to her eyes as she looked at her book. She didn't seem to be reading it at first, as her eyes looked completely focused and unmoving. However, if you looked at her for a few minutes (as Icy's boredom had driven her to do), you'd see that they were moving, just incredibly slowly. What the tiny filly was doing was slowing down her perceptions so that the rest of the world seemed to be moving on fast forward. It apparently took next-to-no energy and let her speed through these sorts of waiting games without so much as a yawn.
Icy did not even try to suppress or hide her envy.
A nudge from Lance shook Icy from her reminiscence.
“Icy, it's your turn,” Alula said, a slight sigh slipping into her speech.
Icy shook her head and refocused on the game that had taken up the past couple of hours. She studied how everyone was doing. Truffle was in the lead this round, with Alula close behind, then Icy and Lance bringing up the rear. However, the difference between the top two and the bottom two was vast and she needed to do something to bridge the gap. After a moment, she locked eyes with Alula for a second or two before speaking.
“Alright, Princess, you want my turn, I'll give you my turn.”
“Please do,” Alula replied, deadpan.
“Fine, but you asked for this.”
“I specifically did, yes.”
“Do you have any... tens?”
“Go fish.”
Icy snorted and reached for the deck, grumbling as she did. Not so much because she'd been wrong, but because she didn't think Alula was playing right. Most of the fun of this game was being really dramatic and confrontational and saying “Go fish!” in as vindictive and spiteful a manner as possible. Not being calm and professional about it. She didn't say anything – I'll play in my way and let Alula play in hers – but it still felt wrong.
The fact that this attitude may have been the reason Alula was winning overall didn't help.
Still, it could have been worse – Corporal Ton had tried to teach them all something called “Poker” which, as far as Icy could tell, was about dealing everyone some cards, seeing whether they had certain combinations and if they did, they won. Kind of okay, she guessed, but she couldn't really see the point of it.
Lance tapped the table and pointed at Alula. He tapped the table quickly five times – asking for fives, which she gave him without comment or visible regret. A look at Icy told her his thinking – neither of them had much of a chance at winning this round, but it they kept it out of Alula's hands, it would go to Truffle. As Truffle was only third in terms of round-winning (After Alula and Lance but, sadly, ahead of Icy), this would prevent her from further cementing her lead and give everyone more of a chance of beating her.
Alula rolled her eyes as she witnessed the communication. “It's only a game.”
Icy sighed. Further proof that she didn't get it.
Alula sighed and opened her mouth to take her turn when a quiet blaring was heard coming from the HQ's massive aetheroscope.
“We've got a distress signal!” Sergeant Ton called over to them.
Sighing in relief, Icy got up and went with the others to see what was up. As Lance went over to poke Dinky out of her time-trance, Alula spoke up.
“Well, it looks like we'll have to end this game. And since I've won the most games, I'd say I win, wouldn't you?”
As she sped up her trotting a little in victory, Icy smiled.
Now she's getting it.
Icy gulped quietly as she began to hear the noise of the train in the distance. She looked over the railing of the bridge, down at the tracks below. She didn't want to say anything out loud, as everyone else seemed okay with the plan, but she was experiencing the beginnings of doubts.
When they'd pinned down exactly what train was sending the signal – easier since, at Dinky's suggestion, they had specifically been looking for the most upper-class and unicorn-frequented trains that were running – Icy assumed they would be teleporting on top of it.
The looks she got from Colonel Steward, Captain Gate and Alula wasn't exactly disdainful, as they were all aware that not everyone knew the ins and outs of teleportation, but they were a bit more condescending than she was entirely comfortable with.
As it turned out, it didn't work like that. For one thing, a pony being teleported kept any momentum they had – or lack of it – but was unable to see and prepare for what they would find. So, from their perspective, they would suddenly go from solid ground to rushing train without knowing how to brace themselves, so they'd be knocked either off the train or out of their senses.
However, it probably wouldn't even get that far – teleportation was a frustratingly inexact process, so accurately and reliably placing them in a specific few metres was impossible at this distance, let alone on a moving object. At best, they'd miss the train (literally) and be able to do nothing but watch it thunder past with its passengers being robbed. At worst, well, they could end up in the right place on one axis, but not on the other – in other words, in front of the train. And, well, that would make them equally ineffectual, among other things.
So, instead, they were teleported a fair distance ahead of the train, in the vicinity of a bridge over the track, and were waiting for the train to pass so they could leap on.
However, while the bridge did indeed go over the track, it wasn't exactly meant for that – the tracks ran through a small gully that the bridge ran over, so there was a drop of about four meters they'd have to survive, not including the height of the train if they missed.
Also, they were trying to leap onto a moving train. All in all, Icy thought she had good reason to be worried.
Still, there was little time to discuss it as the train came closer to the bridge and everyone prepared to jump.
“Are you sure about this?” Icy managed to get out.
“Perfectly. No reason we can't glide onto it,” Alula said, unfurling one of her newly-enlarged wings for emphasis as Lance climbed onto her back.
“Well, I dunno about no reason,” Icy replied, raising her voice a little as the noise of the train increased. “I mean, we are jumping onto a-”
“Now!”
Icy was spared both her surprise at Truffle's interruption and her wondering how one can jump onto a Now by the world turning golden and the train slowing down.
She looked up over her shoulder at Dinky.
“Oh, right! Sorry!”
Dinky smiled through her concentration. “That's okay, just don't drop me.”
Nodding, Icy hopped off the bridge's railing, unfurling her wings and going into a steep glide. This was partially to make sure Dinky's spell didn't have to be longer than necessary, but mostly because even Dinky's weight was pushing the limit for her wings' strength.
Fortunately, she landed quickly, followed immediately by Alula and Lance making a frustratingly graceful landing. Finally, Truffle, who had simply jumped off the bridge, landed on his belly and bounced up onto his hooves and into an action pose.
Overall, Icy felt somewhat inadequate in the style department.
Still, she didn't have time to dwell on that as they looked back over the train. A few cars back, there were some pure white, angular ponies moving about – something of a giveaway.
The five ran forward (or back, depending on how you looked at it) and stopped when they reached the car in question, which looked to be the first-class car. Looking down, they could see that the door to the next car had a paper chain holding it closed. As they watched, a paper pony came out of the unchained door with a bit pouch hooked around its pointy nose. It climbed the ladder next to the door without even noticing the colts and fillies watching and came onto the roof. It trotted over to a large paper bucket held by another paper pony that looked to be nearly overflowing with such pouches, as well as jewellery and loose bits. It deposited the pouch and turned back to the ladder, but paused as another one came up bearing a jewelled necklace.
Truffle cleared his throat to say something before Icy shushed him and pushed everyone back, just in time to avoid being seen by the Prince himself as he exited the cabin.
They waited for a few seconds for him to reach the top, moving much slower than they expected. Finally, he climbed up and over the ladder's top rung. He took a quick breath and then started trotting gradually over to the bucket.
However, before he could get halfway, a sudden blast of wind froze his hoof to the train's roof. He turned his head in shock.
Icy grinned as he saw the group.
“Ticket, please!”
The Paper Prince looked up in surprise. “You again?!”
Icy was a little disappointed he didn't respond to her quip, since she felt it was a definite improvement over last time, but didn't have time to dwell on it as Truffle responded to him.
“Us again, indeed, little prince. Ready to fold?”
Icy grunted a little at Truffle's much better quip before spreading her wings and gathering her energy again, ready for a fight.
The Prince, however merely scoffed. “Course not, but I ain't gonna fight you. At least,” he gave a whistle, “not myself.”
Below Icy and the group, several white forms began moving inside the carriage. They came towards the door and looked towards the ladder next to it. However, before the first one could reach for the handle, Icy flapped her wings and created a small but solid block of ice over it, freezing it shut.
She looked up and smirked at the Prince, only to see the paper pony who had been guarding his loot break the ice around his leg.
Feeling a little self-conscious, she flapped a few more times downwards, thickening the ice around the door enough to stop it being forced open for a while. She looked to her left at Alula and Truffle, who gave her a nod.
Once that was done, the five jumped to the next car – which seemed a little tricky for Dinky and Truffle, but they managed it. Conversely, Icy and Alula simply glided across and Lance...
Lance leapt, fell just short but grabbed the side of the ladder and swung himself up one-hoofed onto the roof of the car, using the momentum from his fall to jump into a small flip that let him land on his hind legs, sword in hoof. It was a bit difficult to tell due to his mask, but he didn't seem to have noticed how showy the move seemed.
Meanwhile, the Prince backed up along with the paper pony beside him.
“Nice try, but I still don't need to fight you myself.” At the back of the car, the hoof of a paper pony came up from the ladder, presumably having taken the other door out along with the rest of them. The Prince barely seemed to notice. “Don't have to fight you at all, come to think of it. Just need to get away with this.” He indicated the bucket of loot at his feet.
Icy suppressed a smile as an idea popped into her head. “Keep him talking,” She whispered as she began gathering energy once again.
Truffle nodded and smiled at the Prince. “Of course. And I'm sure the fact that you could barely hold off one of us in a straight fight, let alone all five of us, has nothing to do with your decision.”
The prince snorted. “Whatever. Still ain't gonna catch me. Subjects, keep these guys busy while I-”
“One thing you're forgetting!” Truffle interrupted before the command could be finished. He and Lance stepped forward, widening their stances and visibly preparing their defences. “We're on a train car – basically a corridor. Only takes a couple of us to block it while the rest are free to chase you when you try to fly off.”
Icy did not feel it prudent to mention how she couldn't really fly – she doubted the prince knew that.
The Prince held up a hoof as the paper ponies came up behind him. “Hmm, you got a point. If only there was somethin' I could do to keep you busy. Oh wait!” He whipped a large pair of paper shurikens out of his saddlebags. “There is! Now, if you ladies and gents'll excuse me, I'll just be takin' these and-”
As soon as he said this and started reaching for the bucket, Icy leapt up onto Truffle's back and let loose a strong stream of cold. However, it wasn't directed at the Prince but at his loot, freezing it into a thick block of ice and fastening it solidly to the train's roof. Once this was done, she half-hopped, half-fell backwards behind the front line again.
The Prince glared at her and growled. “Fine then. You wanna be clever? So do I!”
He threw both shuriken but, before Truffle and Lance could even get into position to deflect them, they seemed to go wide. They missed the group by several feet and went curving round behind them, lowering down next to the train's sides.
Dinky turned around to watch them go, her horn glowing a little in readiness, before she turned back to the Prince. “What was that?”
The Prince smirked. “Three... two... one...”
A loud noise erupted from the front of the train. Or rather, several loud noises in quick succession. First was the screeching sound like nails going right through a chalkboard or, more accurately, a metal plate. Then there was a groaning that went on just long enough to establish a struggle before it was overtaken by the sound of a bursting pipe and then a deafening hiss of escaping gas.
Dinky's eyes widened. “What was that?” she repeated, having to shout to be heard, which she did not seem proficient in.
Still, the Prince seemed to hear her as he chuckled. “That, m'lady,” he gave a sarcastic nod of the head to her, “was the sound of the brake lines being sliced open. Air pressure based – without that, well, this train's gonna have a real problem stopping. And, you know, not crashing. Really should have upgraded the brakes to a fail-safe system but, if they did, I wouldn't have chosen this one.” He shrugged and gave the group a smug look. “What, you think I didn't do my homework? A Prince's gotta be educated, you know.”
He waved his hoof forward and the paper ponies rushed the group. Fortunately, as they intended, Truffle and Lance were able to hold them off, but they did block them from being able to reach the Prince.
“Dinky,” Alula yelled as she ducked behind Icy's wings to shift a horn, “can you freeze him.”
Dinky shook her head as she focused on slowing down one of the paper ponies. “No! I can't see him to-”
“Doesn't matter,” The prince called, his voice moving to the edge of the train. “You've got bigger problems to take care of than my getaway. Ta-ta!”
His voice moved as she spoke, off the edge of the train and onto something. There was a whooshing noise and, after a second, the distant image of his paper plane flying off gave a pretty clear indication of what.
Then, as soon as he was a safe distance from the train, all the paper ponies who were stalling them suddenly whirled around and leapt off the sides of the train. Below, Icy could see several more leaping from the rear door of the carriage. All-in-all, about a dozen of them were falling, not including the ones Lance and Truffle had already taken out.
All those forces, all created by him and all disposable. That didn't make any sense as far as Icy could see, but she still couldn't explain it away.
However, she didn't have long to consider it before she heard Lance kick the roof beneath her in frustration, a slight growl escaping his mouth. Looking at him, he looked like he was honestly considering chasing him and, well, using his sword in the traditional way.
However, any such thoughts were cut off by Dinky speaking. “Um, I kinda hate to say it, but he's right.”
Alula nodded. “Right. We need to get to the front and stop this train.”
There was scarcely time to nod in agreement before they were all rushing back the way they came. Unfortunately, it took a little longer than they would have liked. When they'd been moving backwards atop the train, they'd been aided by the fact the back of the train was, essentially, moving towards them, so they could jump from car to car without much problem. Now that they were trying to move forward, with the train going away from them the moment their hooves left the surface.
Of course, Lance was able to leap across – putting his hooves over the edge, planting them against the side and launching himself towards it – but even then he only just managed to grab the edge (and pull himself up one-hoofed, of course) but the rest had a bit more trouble. Icy and Alula couldn't even glide across, since the wind would catch their wings instantly and knock them off the train entirely.
In the end, they had to settle for Truffle grabbing Dinky, Icy and a shrunken Alula and hurling them across, which Icy found as almost as uncomfortable as it was undignified. Then again, that described a surprising amount of things she'd had to do since joining the team.
Once Truffle had thrown everyone across, he leapt himself with everyone catching him. Or, rather, one of them catching him and the rest having to use every ounce of their strength to help pull him up. As it turned out, being fat wasn't just a superpower.
Fortunately, they only had to repeat this once before they had reached the front of the train. Once there, Alula turned to them.
“Right, Dinky – you go down into the car and let the engineer know what's happened...”
“Think he's probably got a fair idea already,” Truffle interrupted, barely having to raise his voice to be heard, “something about the pipes bursting and the air rushing out probably tipped him off.”
“And,” Alula began again, giving Truffle a slight glare, “see if you can do anything to slow the train down.”
Dinky gulped, her eyes widening. “The train?! I can't slow down an entire train – I can barely do it to all of us. Not that I would, but I mean, I...”
“I know,” Alula interrupted, “but if you slowed down just the engine, that might help.”
Dinky shook her head. “I don't think I could – it's still connected to stuff, not something on its own that I can-”
“Well, try!” Alula interrupted, squeezing the bridge of her nose with a hoof. “You never know, you might figure out something.”
Dinky closed her eyes tight for a second and nodded. She then opened them with an uncertain hum, ran to the ladder that went between the cars and descended out of sight.
“As for us,” Alula continued, “we need to see if we can stop this train from the outside. Any ideas?”
“For stopping an entire train?” Truffle asked, somewhat baffled and a hint of fear edging onto his voice. “Not off the top of my head – even I'm not that heavy.”
Alula sighed. “Yes, I wasn't thinking of putting something in front of it, thanks.”
There was silence for a moment (well, as much silence as there can be on top of and near the engine of a moving train) before Icy spoke. “Well, how are the brakes supposed to work?”
“Like the Prince said, air pressure – when it's released, it's pumped through the pipes and activates the brakes on each car.”
Icy nodded as she thought. “Could we find some way to repair the pipes.”
Alula's eyes went up as she thought. “Possible, not probable,” she said, her speech accelerating along with her thoughts. “Depends how much was released when pipes were cut, how much escaped and how much pressure gets put in when activated.”
“We don't know that?” Icy asked.
Alula twitched her eyebrows down but her speech didn't change tone or tempo. “No, strange, can't recall exactly PSI of specific model of train brakes, terrible oversight, please forgive. Still idea worth trying.”
“Brilliant!” Truffle said, looking at Icy expectantly. “What were you thinking of fixing it with?”
Icy opened her mouth before pausing, the sole gap in her plan suddenly becoming evident. “Ah. Was hoping you could think of that.”
Alula snorted as she facehoofed. “Not obvious?” She peeked over her hoof to see everyone looking at her expectantly.
Fortunately, they were saved from her wrath... well, her disgruntlement, at least, by Lance tapping a hoof on the ground in realization and pointing to Icy's wings. It took a moment, but she quickly realized what he meant.
“Oh, Ice! Wait, are you sure that'll be strong enough?”
“No idea, but worth trying,” Alula replied, shifting herself a horn and gently pushing Icy towards the side of the train with her magic. Taking the hint, Icy moved to the edge, only to see another flaw in the plan.
“Um, I can't really see the brake lines from here. Don't think I can get a good angle to freeze them.”
“Correct, so get new angle.”
“How?”
“Truffle, grab back legs and dangle over.”
“Wait, what?!” Icy asked, hopping suddenly away from Truffle. “Are you crazy, what if...?”
“Only choice we have!” Alula yelled. “Alternative is letting train crash!”
Icy gulped, looking at her. Her eyes darted towards Truffle and, for a moment, she saw an oddly pensive expression before it morphed into one of determination.
“Don't you worry, Icy my girl!” he said, his voice carrying his usual exuberance even while his face couldn't quite get there. “I won't be dropping you! You won't fall.”
Icy closed her eyes for a moment, but not before catching a tiny movement of his mouth. She couldn't hear anything from it and doubted she would have even without the wind but, while she was far from an expert on lip reading, it seemed to her like it might have been the movements for the word again.
Steeling herself, Icy nodded and turned towards the train's edge, both to prepare and so Truffle wouldn't suspect she'd seen his mutter. She gulped and tensed her front right hoof so much it started vibrating and beating against the roof beneath her.
She didn't have to wait long before she felt Truffle's front hooves grab her rear ones and his mouth bite her tail. Once she was sure his grip was secure, she pushed herself off the edge, resolving to get into position as quickly as possible so she wouldn't have a chance to realize what a bad idea this was.
As she descended, she saw the two halves of the pipe, one half still in position, the other half hanging down a little, far from the next ring that held the pipe in place. Icy was about to call up to ask what to do about it when a green glow enveloped the dangling half and, slowly and with great effort, pulled it up so it was flush against the remaining half.
Having no more reason to delay, Icy gave her wings an experimental flap. It made a little ice over the pipes, but also pushed her back a little. She let out a small yelp as it did, feeling Truffle's grip intensify and hearing a grunt from him. The ground was moving very fast beneath her and any slight shift in the arrangement keeping her above it was a cause for alarm. However, the moment quickly passed and she settled down again, both physically and mentally.
However, this did present her with something of a problem – any wind she made to freeze the pipes together would also push her away from them. She took a moment to think before reaching forward with one hoof and grabbing the secure side of the pipe.
Unfortunately, she knew that Alula's magic, no matter how much she shifted to increase it, wasn't as strong as the metal holding the pipe – if she tried to grab hold of the side her magic was holding and flap, there was a good chance she's just pull it away from the other half, the exact opposite of what she was trying to achieve.
“It's no good!” she called up to the others. “I need something to hold on the other side while I flap, otherwise-”
She didn't get any further before she saw a white shape swinging down beside her in her peripheral vision and heard a slam and the slight groan of metal being pierced. She looked to the side just in time to see Lance, suspended by wedging his hoof behind the railing on the side of the train's roof, flip back up without apparent difficulty. Looking down again, she saw his sword embedded in the side, well within her hoof's reach.
“Thanks!” she called up as she grabbed the blade's hilt. Tightening her grip on both it and the secure half of the pipe, she started flapping again, pulling up as much energy as she could. She kept her eyes open as she did and watched as the ice began forming over the split in the pipe. At first, it was just a bit of frost, but it quickly grew several crystal lumps that began rapidly expanding, soon crossing over to become one solid lump. She kept flapping until it was about three times the width of the pipe it was enveloping.
Once that was done, she stopped flapping, resting for a moment before she felt herself being pulled up. It was not a pleasant experience. She first felt a painful yank on her tail hairs, followed by her legs. This might have been all that was needed were it not for the fact that Truffle was not especially tall, so he couldn't lift her high enough to simply place her back on the surface of the train. Instead, he was forced to drag her legs and belly over the lip, which was not designed to be comfortable to rub yourself against. One of the rings that held the rail in place was also beneath her, forming a horrible lump that she was also dragged along.
However, as unpleasant as this was, it didn't last long. Soon, she was lying on the roof of the train once again, panting with both fatigue and mild pain.
She looked up to see Alula looking over the side, evaluating her work. “Hmm, adequate,” she said, not taking her eyes off the ice block. “Should hold up to pressure of brakes probably.”
Icy swallowed and nodded, barely noticing Lance hanging off the side again to retrieve his sword. “Okay, other side next. Just give me a moment.”
“Don't have many moments,” Alula replied as Lance swung back and trotted over to the other side. “Less moments we waste, better our chances.
“Okay, fine!” Icy tried not to whine. She thought she managed it, in spite of her and Alula's differing definitions of waste.
She and Truffle went over to the other side just as Lance came back up. Fortunately, though the whole process was no less tiring and uncomfortable, she knew what she needed to do now. Before too long, she was on the roof again, wheezing a little but having frozen both pipes together.
Alula nodded as she looked over the second fix. “Right, need to tell them-”
“DINKY! TRY THE BRAKES NOW!” Truffle bellowed, making everyone jump at his volume, despite Icy's exhaustion, Alula's focus and Lance's stoicism. Icy had heard rumours around Ponyville about something called the Royal Canterlot Voice and wondered if this might be related. Alternatively, since the owner was neither royal nor from Canterlot, it was most likely just Truffle's natural volume.
There was quiet (again, relatively speaking) for a few seconds before a screeching sound came from the wheels at the base of the train. For a brief, wonderful second, it seemed like they'd succeeded.
Then the cracking sound started to creep in on the edge of the noise. Within seconds, it rose to equal volume before there was a crash, the hiss of escaping air and the cessation of the screeching of the brakes.
“What?!” Icy gasped. “I thought you said it should...”
“I thought it would!” Alula called back, briefly lapsing into normal speech as she went over to the side.
Icy hauled herself to her hooves and followed her. “So how come... oh.”
As it turned out, the ice hadn't fully shattered. Instead, one end of the pipe had burst out of it and was now, once again, hanging below it.
“Of course, idiot!” Alula called, smacking herself in the forehead as if to make sure everyone knew who she was insulting. “Forgot to include fact that pipe is unsecured on one end – means pressure would be greater on that end, plus weight of pipe. Needed much thicker ice.
Icy gulped and flapped her wings in preparation. “Okay, no problem, I can-”
“No, too late, air pressure's gone now, probably wouldn't be enough to stop train,” Alula blurted out quickly, her eyes moving rapidly as she thought.
Icy thought as quickly as she could. “Could we... could we try freezing the wheels? Or maybe sticking Lance's sword in them.
Lance shook his head, miming a snapping sword to get across that it wasn't nearly strong enough for that. He reached for his sword to demonstrate, only for his hoof to grab at nothing. Realizing that it was still stuck in the side of the train, he turned around to go and retrieve it.
It was at that moment they all saw the post pass by the train's side and heard the massive CLANG of a sword being knocked out of a wall, most likely bent completely out of shape by the impact and definitely being sent flying away from them, the train leaving it far behind.
Lance scraped at the ground with a hoof in agitation, his intense self-control visibly strained. Icy tried briefly to lift a wing to put on his shoulder. Unfortunately, they quickly protested and she just let them hang tiredly.
She gulped. They were rapidly running out of resources.
After a few seconds, Alula shook her head. “No choice. Have to disconnect the other cars. Will make them come to stop without engine pulling – passengers will be safe.”
“What about the Driver?” Icy called back. “What about the ponies in the station? What about us?”
“DON'T KNOW!” Alula yelled, closing her eyes tightly as her strain broke through into her voice. After a moment, she calmed herself. “Don't know, will... will think of something,” she finished, barely even trying to convince herself.
Icy briefly considered responding before, after a second, simply closing her mouth and nodding.
Together, the group went over and descended the ladder to the area between cars. Icy was the last to descend and had to put a lot of effort into ignoring how fast the ground was moving as she got closer to it.
Once there, Truffle and Lance put their hooves around the peg holding the cars together. After a brief second of preparation, they looked at each other, nodded and pulled.
The peg barely budged.
“Huh,” Truffle said after a moment. “Guess these things are stronger than they look. Icy, Alula, going to need your help with this, maybe more.”
To Icy's side, Alula enveloped herself in a green haze, emerging as a colt about Truffle's size. Icy assumed it was for the increased strength – not that it would approach Truffle's, of course, but it would help. It could also have been to give herself plenty of padding should she need to jump off the train. Of course, she could have simply grown wings and flown off, but that might be tricky – Icy looked off to the side and considered how fast the train was moving and the resultant wind speeds. Although...
“Hold on, is it just me, or are we beginning to slow down?”
Everyone looked up from the peg that was still staying firmly in place. Looking off to the side, they saw that, indeed, the scenery was moving much slower than it had a moment ago and was still decelerating.
“You're right, Icy!” Truffle cried, falling back onto his haunch in relief. “Looks like we'll be alright after all!”
“But how?” Alula asked, looking a little annoyed that they were no longer in mortal danger. “Nothing we did... Dinky!” she said suddenly, turning and running into the train's cabin as the train finally came to a halt.
The other followed to find a room so thick with smoke they could barely see the glow of the engine. Coughing slightly, Alula shifted herself some wings and started flapping the smoke out of the room, Icy joining her a moment later.
It took thirty seconds and a lot of aching in Icy's wings, but eventually the smoke cleared enough to reveal the engineer – a large, grey-coated earth pony – and Dinky. Both were wearing air filtration masks over their muzzles, presumably put in the car for just this sort of occurrence. Of course, since they were designed for an adult head, Dinky had to hold it up with her hooves and press her face into the front of it to stop any smoke getting in.
The two looked up as the room became less obscured, Dinky's face lighting up as she saw her friends.
“Are you guys okay?” she asked, taking the mask away from her face. She gave a tiny little cough before continuing. “I saw Icy hanging from the side and I was so scared for her but I couldn't stop...”
“We're fine, Dinky!” Icy assured her, trotting over to look up at the train's engine. “Thanks to you, we're safe. So I guess you were able to slow down the engine after all.”
“Oh, no!” Dinky shook her head vehemently, as if to shake off the apparently-unearned praise. “I couldn't do that at all. Actually, I kind of sped it up.”
“But...” Alula asked, her jaw dropping for a moment. “But how did train... how did it stop?”
“Simple.” The engineer shrugged as he joined the conversation. “I just stopped feeding coal into the engine.”
There was a long, unpleasant pause.
“What?” Alula asked finally.
“Well, without coal, the engine stops moving the train and it'll come to a stop,” The engineer explained.
“So...” Alula stopped herself briefly, taking a deep breath in before continuing, “so we were never in any actual danger? We didn't have to do anything at all?”
“Now, I didn't say that!” the engineer replied, a little disturbed at this little filly getting so annoyed. “If the little lady here hadn't sped the coal's burning up, we might not have run out before we started going up the mountain. Then we'd have stopped on a hill and we'd have slid down – wouldn'ta been fun.”
“But we...” Alula indicated the group that had been on the roof, “didn't have to do anything? We lost Lance's sword, exhausted Icy's wings and nearly broke my brain... for nothing?” Even in her fury, Alula didn't shout, but the force behind her words was still considerable.
The engineer looked awkward at that. “Well, you see, er... what you tried could have worked,” He finished with a forced grin.
Alula breathed out, remaining still for a second. “Truffle, I'm very sorry about this, but you're the only thing around I can use.”
Before anyone could question what she meant by that, Alula pressed her face into Truffle's side and used his suit and flab to muffle her screams.
It took a little while for the group to get back to Canterlot. For a start, the guard had to come down to the stopped train to deal with the robbed passengers. This normally would not have been necessary, as taking their statements could wait until they arrived back in the city. However, when the Paper Prince had collected his loot, he had put it all together and understandably not bothered labelling or categorizing it based on who each piece originally belonged to. As such, there was some... disagreement about who owned what, who ought to own what, who was always supposed to own what before the pony who actually owned what came and stole what away from them and many other disputes of that nature.
Fortunately, the group was not involved with that – if they were, Icy doubted there'd be anypony amongst them who would not have screamed. This was taking into account the fact that one always seemed pathologically incapable of anger and another was entirely mute.
Only once that was sorted out could they start making their way back to Headquarters. The station had sent out an emergency train to pick up the stranded passengers but, while Icy was sure that it could get them to Canterlot and come back to the crime scene several times in the time the rich ponies spent bickering, it apparently wasn't economical to do so. So, they spent quite some time waiting around in the train car before they could leave.
By the time they reached Canterlot, the winter sun had long since set. It was really irritating at the time, of course, but in a way, Icy was thankful for it once they were back in the city. In the hours since the tension had broken, Alula's anger had cooled somewhat. She was still very annoyed that they had, in her mind, wasted so much thought and resources, but the fury and humiliation was largely gone. This was helped along by Dinky, both because Alula had to give her credit for her contribution and because she listened to Alula recounting what happened, nodding sincerely and occasionally complimenting her on her ideas.
Icy was still mostly sure that Dinky was unaware of how intense and powerful her cuteness was, but she wouldn't have been shocked to find out otherwise.
Unfortunately, Lance had not been so easy to console. Not that Icy could blame him – his sword was both a powerful piece of equipment and necessary for him to contribute to the team, so losing it must have been a pretty big blow. However, she would have expected a bit of melancholy in his demeanour in addition to anger, but she hadn't noticed any.
Admittedly, it wasn't easy to tell. Of her teammates, three – Archer, Alula and Lance – were immensely stoic, to the point that many might consider reading the three of them the same difficult skill. However, in the time since she'd met them, Icy had learned that not only was the manner of their stoicism very different in each case, but so was the way their emotions did show themselves.
Archer, for instance, did actually show her emotions fairly freely, but they were usually very muted – what was to others a raging fury would manifest in her as mild annoyance and moderate sarcasm. It wasn't unknown for her to show heavier emotion – the business with the Miniac had riled her immensely, as it had for all of them – but it was very rare and evidently needed to be something that she felt incredibly strong about. All other times, it was fairly simple to see what she was feeling, but it took some practice to see how much she was feeling it.
On the other hand, Alula was very much the reverse – she always kept her emotions closely guarded and it was usually difficult to ascertain exactly how she felt about any given situation. That did seem a touch at odds with what had happened on the train, but only in as much as she eventually had to let out her anger. However, while in most situations, it was hard to tell what Alula was feeling, it was fairly easy to tell how intensely she was feeling it. In times of intense focus or stress, it was obvious to even casual observers from the way her speech would accelerate and she'd start dropping words that weren't completely necessary to communicate her points. However, even during less intense times, it was possible to read how strongly she felt about something from how slowly she talked, how much effort she needed to put into keeping her tone level and how much force she put behind her words. So, gauging her level of emotion was simple, but ascertaining what emotion it was was trickier, at least until it reached the point where it all spilled out, as it had after the train was stopped.
So, while it wasn't always easy, it was usually possible to read those two. Lance, though, was a different matter entirely.
The thing about Lance was that his stoicism was internal as well as external. It wasn't simply that he didn't show the emotions he felt distinctly or intensely, but that he kept a tight lid on his emotions within his own head. Icy had been assured that there wasn't any danger from it – while even she knew that that sort of repression wasn't entirely healthy, she also knew that the team's mental state was regularly checked by a royally appointed psychiatrist and that, if Lance was in any danger of damaging himself or others, he would be benched until those issues could be worked through. However, either he wasn't able to stop himself from bottling up his emotions or he still wasn't convinced that he should stop. Either way, he kept his feelings tightly bound at all possible times, only letting them out when they became overwhelming.
However, it seemed that, no matter how intense his emotions, none could overpower his discipline, so he never exploded, as many might. However, that didn't actually reduce how powerful those unbound emotions could be. As such, rather than being like a pressurized bottle, Lance's emotional state was more analogous to a rusted lever. It was immensely difficult to move and didn't move fast or hit hard when it did, but once it was changed, it was firm and would take a long time to change back.
Because of this, throughout the entire trip back to Canterlot, Lance had been scowling behind his mask, occasionally snorting or scuffing a hoof on the ground. He didn't partake in any interaction with the others, instead sitting a little way away from them, sulking bitterly. The one time Icy had tried to talk to him and lighten his mood with a joke, she had simply gotten a glare in return.
Admittedly, suggesting that his white suit might mean he could have infiltrated the Paper Prince's ranks instead of Alula wasn't a great joke, but she could still tell that he was very upset.
As such, when they had arrived back at headquarters and Lance immediately and purposefully moved away from the team's rooms, she couldn't help but follow, curious where he was going with such determination.
After a short while, she still wasn't sure exactly, but the amount of times Lance had had to stop and silently explain what happened to guards suggested it was not a place one went to casually.
Finally, they came to a door that looked almost as thick as it was wide – Icy had a sneaking suspicion this was their destination.
Upon seeing them, the stallion sitting at the desk beside the door stood up, his uniform identifying him as Private Mace.
“Oh, hello there, Lance. What can I...” He stopped as he noticed Lance' empty scabbard. “Oh. I see. Is it...?” He nodded when Lance shook his head solemnly. “Right, gone. Well, I'm afraid Cue is on leave at the moment and... Yeah, I know you couldn't get a new one immediately anyway, but it would have expedited things a little. I guess, but who knows when you'll next need it after this guy is beaten?”
As Mace continued his verbally-one-sided conversation with Lance, he trotted around the desk, fishing a set of keys out of his pocket. As he put it into the first of the several locks on the door, Icy felt compelled to ask.
“Who's Cue?”
Private Mace shook his head a little as he seemed to notice Icy for the first time. However, after a moment, he smiled at her. “Zyracue, our resident weaponsmith. Everyone just calls him Cue, though.”
Icy nodded. “Oh, so he's the guy who made our weapons and suits.”
“Oh, no!” Private Mace replied as he undid the final lock. “The weapons, yeah, but the suits are À La Mode originals. Cue might have given her a bit of help with some of the enchantments, but Mode's the one behind them.”
“Huh,” Icy began as the door opened, “so, how much does Cue... by the power of Skullgreymon!” She said in wonderment as she saw what was past the door.
Weapons. Lots and lots and lots of weapons were laid out on and beneath the far wall. They extended right up to the ceiling, to the point that even a fully grown adult would have to stretch slightly to reach them. Fortunately, none of the weapons on the ground were sharp, else such stretches would be immensely dangerous. The wall contained everything from swords to clubs to polearms to crossbows to even a section for guns, despite Icy having seen no Minotaurs among the base's personnel. Furthermore, it wasn't a small room – to her right was another thick door, but to her left, the room extended into a corridor, the density of weapons on the wall never lessening. Along the opposite wall, a series of training dummies stood, ready to be attacked and maimed without complaint.
Icy turned to Private Mace. “So... Cue made all these?”
“Yep!” Private Mace smiled at her. “He's one productive Zebra. Of course, none of them are enchanted yet, but they're all ready to receive them when needed. For the moment, they're just well made weapons. Which does mean they're lethal, so be careful, Lan-” He cut himself off as Lance gave him an irritated look. “Okay, yeah, you didn't need to be... sorry.” He coughed awkwardly to his side. “Anyway, feel free to choose a temporary replacement, I'll wait here.”
Lance nodded and trotted down the weapon-lined corridor. Icy followed him, the two travelling down to the end, where a small section lay filled with weapons sized for smaller ponies.
As Lance looked over the selection, his hoof on his chin, Icy scanned them as well, her eyes lighting up as they fell upon one particular sword.
“Hey, look, Lance! A katana!” Icy picked it up in her hooves, briefly tempted to swing it around playfully before she remembered the whole “deadly weapon” thing. Nevertheless, she held it one hoof, weighing it experimentally. “These things are so cool!”
She would have gone on had Lance not cut her off with a stern shake of the head.
Icy huffed a little. “I know, I know, they're not toys, but that doesn't mean they're not cool – katanas are just...”
This time, Icy noticed exactly when Lance shook his head as he pointed at the sword.
“It's... it's not a katana?” She looked down at the sword in her hoof. “Yes it is! I've seen katanas, this is a katana... right?” she finished, beginning to doubt herself.
Lance sighed and pointed at another sword – one that looked just like the one she was holding, only bigger.
“That's a katana?” Icy asked, before continuing after Lance's nod. “But that's just a bigger version of this. So, is this, like a... mini-katana?”
Lance raised a hoof to object before pausing a moment, then waving it horizonatally in a “sort of” gesture. He then launched into a short series of gestures with his hooves and ears.
Icy blinked as she interpreted them – Lance was good enough at communicating without words that he rarely resorted to actual sign language unless he needed to get across very specific information. If he was actually using explicit words, what he's saying must be serious.
After she interpreted the letters he'd signed out, though, Icy wasn't so sure of that.
“Wa... ki... za... shi...? Wakizashi? What's that supposed to... that's not even a real word, it's just a pile of noises!”
“It's a Neighponese word!” she heard Private Mace call from the other end of the corridor. “Katanas and Wakizashis are Neighponese swords, so... yeah.”
“Oh. OH!” Icy cried as she realized her faux pas. “Sorry!” She shook her head, her cheeks burning with shame, as she quickly changed the subject. “So, is it just a size difference or is there more?”
Lance shrugged off Icy's embarassment as he nodded, picking up the katana. As he did, he drew Icy's attention to the fact he was placing both hooves on the sword's handle. He then slowly showed how the sword swung, emphasizing how he pushed forward with his right hoof. He then stopped, drew Icy's attention to his left hoof and pulled it back towards himself. He then put the two movements together, creating a sort of levering motion with both hooves that even Icy could tell would make the sword swing much faster and harder.
He then whirled around and used this levering motion to decapitate a dummy in one swing.
Icy blinked in astonishment. “Huh. So that's how you use a katana, huh?” She thought for a moment. “So, I guess all those characters who use two katanas at once aren't too realistic, huh?”
Lance shook his head, but quickly held a hoof up to forestall any response. He then took the wakizashi from her and gave a few demonstrative swings, showing that the two different sizes of weapon being wielded together was a bit more viable. There clearly wasn't the same kind of power behind the katana's swings, but it was still perfectly viable.
After a moment, Lance nodded firmly and retrieved the scabbards for the two blades. He had chosen his weapons.
As the two rejoined Private Mace, he smiled at them.
“Alright, let's get out of here. I know Mode's been busy with this project of hers, but probably best to avoid getting caught up in...”
“Ah, zere you are! Excellent!”
Icy's head shot up at the new voice, her ears swivelling round to pinpoint its origin. She'd just identified it as coming from behind Private Mace when it spoke again.
“Yes, you, ze vun vith ze ice powers!”
Icy peered around Private Mace only to find a curious earth pony looking back at her through big, round glasses. She stood only slightly taller than Icy herself, barely coming up to Private Mace's neck, and stood up straight with, nevertheless, a certain degree of casualness in her posture. Her mane came down to just past her chin, the ends and fringe cut so precisely horizontal it probably needed a spirit level. She was wearing a black dress with several layered fringes along the body of it and black leggings. Her tail was cut with the same precision as her mane and her face was set into a serious expression. However, while Icy could have been imagining it, she swore she saw a slight gleam in her eyes.
Once Icy had stepped out to face her, the strange pony continued. “I see you are eager to see your new suit, yes? Oh, of course you are, vhy vouldn't you be?”
“Er, actually,” Icy began, a little unsure how to feel in this situation, “I was just coming with Lance to get him a new weapon. I... didn't know about this, I'm sorry.”
“Oh, nonsense, darling! Vhether eagerness or serendipity, I commend vhatever force brought you here in zis moment, as I have just finished it and I daresay it is some of my finest vork!”
Private Mace sighed. “Icy, this is À La Mode, our resident costumer and...”
“Yes, yes, yes, I sure she is avare of zat, now hush hush, mister army man, ze grown up ponies are talking,” À La Mode said to the only full-size pony in the room. “You just take ze dashing young swordscolt and leave Miss Icy to get to know her stunning new ensemble! Go, shoo shoo shoo!” She walked forward, making Lance and Mace back out of the room before she closed the door and turned back to Icy. “Now, come, come, your new look avaits!”
Swallowing nervously, Icy followed Mode through the now-open door to the right of the way they came in.
Coming through, Icy found herself in a room that seemed halfway between the Carousel Boutique and Princess Twilight's laboratory, with a pinch of a fallout shelter and a supervillain's lair for good measure. Poniquins and sewing machines stood side by side with banks of glowing buttons and strange, ray-gun-like devices Icy could only guess at the purpose of. The walls were a stark grey and the lighting was dark. The only area that was differently lit was a large area in front of a thick, transparent wall – Icy couldn't tell if it was glass, perspex or something else, but it hardly seemed to matter. Beyond it, she could see only darkness.
“Erm, Miss Mode,” Icy began, “I... er, they didn't tell me...”
“But of course not, darling!” Mode interrupted as she took a seat before the walled-off area, gesturing for Icy to do the same. “Vords can only produce a pale imitation of ze glorious realities! Zat is vhy I must show you my creation!”
As Icy sat down, the lights behind the barrier flared up, showing a poniquin wearing what Icy could only assume was her new costume. It was a bright, bold blue, a shade just different enough from Icy's coat that it would stand out while still maintaining her overall look. It was all in one piece, covering the whole body of the poniquin and coming down to just above her hooves. Behind the poniquin's head, a hood was lying along the back of the suit, with small tassels hanging from the neck to draw it up. The hood and the cuffs were all lined with white, fluffy fur. From the back of the suit came two long, branching stretches of material, presumably to go over her wings. They were the one part of the suit that completely matched her coat colour, though Icy couldn't guess as to their purpose. Overall, she liked the look of the suit, but she wasn't sure what had Mode so excited.
Before she could even think to ask about it, Mode started speaking. “Now, it of course has all of ze standard protective enchantments – not so much as your heavy friend, of course,” she started, sounding almost bored, “but zey should be more zan sufficient.”
Without warning, a massive axe blade slammed down over the form, bisecting the poniquin. Icy glanced to the side, only to see Mode smiling at this development. Looking back, she saw the axe raise again, the suit instantly snapping back to its previous state, without so much as deforming or tearing. It even held the now-detached halves of the poniquin within steady.
“Immensely durable, of course, and completely elastic, it should be unaffected by vhatever damage and degradation you might subject it to. Fully resistant to all slashing,...”
A series of blades whirled to life around the suit, carving deep gashes into the poniquin beneath it while leaving the cloth itself unblemished.
“...piercing...”
A barrage of crossbow bolts launched into the form, penetrating deep into the body before bouncing out thanks to the material.
“...and impacts.”
A couple of gunshots rang out from the walls, going into the suit and creating deep craters in the body within before bouncing off and ricocheting around the walls a few times. Icy tensed to leap behind her chair, but the walls and transparent partition held.
Mode continued. “Capable of vithstanding temperatures of up to vun thousand degrees Coltsius,”
Flames sprang up to life around the suit, reducing the exposed head and hooves, as well as the parts close to them, to ash but not so much as darkening the fabric.
“... or eighteen hundred degrees Marenheit, if you prefer, and resistant to some of ze most powerful magicks a pony is capable of producing.”
Finally, a ray shot out from the wall, entirely disintegrating the poniquin but leaving the suit untouched, hanging empty from the poniquin's pole.
Icy finally blinked, drawn out of the horror she was witnessing to look to the suit's designer, who was smiling to a worrying degree.
“Er, Miss Mode?”
“Oh, do not vorry, darling, ze dust vill vash out easily – I vould never design somezing zat could not be easily cleaned.”
“Er, yeah, I mean... don't get me wrong, that's all incredible, but...”
“Rubbish, darling, zat is nozing special, entirely standard, no, no, no! Ze truly genius part is how it interacts vith your abilities.”
At this, a door opened to reveal a pony dressed in a full hazmat suit. Despite the thick clothing covering his face and body, Icy could still see the nervousness he carried himself with. In his horn's magic, he carried a glass container filled with wires and metal. Suspended within a field, that was apparently created by the apparatus, was a glowing nimbus of pale blue energy that Icy recognised.
“Hey, that's my freezing energy!”
“Indeed, Princess Tvilight vas kind enough to provide me a sample of it and ze means to keep it in suspension.”
Icy blinked. Though the Princess had offered to help Icy understand the nature of her strange powers, it so far hadn't amounted to much from her perspective – a couple of times, she had come to the castle's laboratory and made a few gusts, after which Princess Twilight had taken samples with an odd machine and then fiddled around with it and hummed until it was time for her to leave.
Icy didn't blame her, of course – she was a princess, she had to be busy – but it was a surprise that anything had come from it.
She was shaken out of her thoughts when Mode pointed to the suit. “Now, vatch zis!”
Looking back, Icy saw that the suit had been turned around so the neck hole was facing them. Furthermore, the protected pony's magic was holding it up so that the air within it was clearly visible, the glass chamber hovering in front of it.
“Your energies are of a kind I have never encountered before, so it vas qvite a challenge creating a material that would be both impervious to and insulative of it. However, I finally managed it – a fabric zat can fully contain your energies...”
All at once, the pony ripped the lid off the chamber, dropped his magic, dived back through the door and slammed it shut.
The instant the lid came off, the energy within shot out and into the poniquin. However, rather than freezing it as it did most things, the energy instead ricocheted around inside it, bouncing off the insides of the material until it finally shot out of one of the cuffs, creating a chunk of ice at the suit's hooves.
“...and yet has ze texture of ze finest Saddle Arabian silks!”
Icy blinked, a little confused. “O... kay, so I'll be immune to my own blasts. I guess that's... pretty cool, if someone reflects them back at me or something.”
“Oh, nozing of ze sort, darling, zat is, at most, a fringe benefit. Ze true power of ze suit comes from how you channel ze energy inside it. Come, come, let me demonstrate.”
The lights behind the wall faded once again as those of the main room came on fully. Mode hopped to her hooves and trotted over to a corner of her workshop, where a covered form lay.
Pulling away the sheet, Mode revealed another version of the same suit and beckoned Icy over as she pulled it off the poniquin.
Icy came over to her slowly, muscles still tensed in case Mode had any more surprises waiting for her. However, nothing jumped out or popped into being as she came over.
She looked over the suit, picking up one of the wing coverings. “Won't these be kind of restrictive.”
“Not at all, darling.” Mode assured her as she picked up the suit and began helping Icy into it, not waiting for permission. “Zey are designed to lie beneath ze feathers, to allow full, free movement and remain qvite invisible.”
Still hesitant, Icy pulled the suit over her, guiding her hooves into the sleeves and pulling the top of the suit up to her neck. She slid her wings through the back slits and into the sheathes, only to find that, indeed, they slid under her feathers and clung to the flesh underneath, tightly enough to stay in place but lightly enough to not restrict them in the slightest.
Smiling at the feeling, she did up the zipper on the torso of the suit, sealing it around her body.
“Now, zen, if you vould care to try a bit of your freezing techinique on zat target.” Mode pointed to a bare poniquin ten metres away from them. Shrugging, Icy tried to call up a moderate amount of energy.
However, to her shock, rather than the smooth build-up of energy along her wings that she was used to, she felt the energy surge along them, racing down the bones and muscles and firing into the feathers along her wings, from the base to the tips.
She flapped her wings, half how she intended to and half out of surprise, firing a blast of energy at the poniquin. Instead of the patch of ice she had expected to form over the poniquin's chest, a massive chunk of it sprang up around it, freezing its entire front half.
Icy's head whirled around to Mode. “I.. but how... it doesn't... wha? Is this suit amplifying it or...”
Mode gave a slight smile. “Oh, not a bit of it, darling. Zis is just you using your full power for ze first time.”
Icy's face scrunched in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Without warning, Mode grabbed one of Icy's wings, stretching it out. “You see, you channel your energy along your wings, yes?” She waved a hoof over the wingbone, indicating how the energy flowed. “However, previously, as ze energy travelled along, much of it vould diffuse into the air around it before it could reach ze point you could let it loose. As a result, only a small proportion of ze energy vould actually be channeled into your gusts. However, vith ze insulation covering ze pathvays up your ving, zat diffusion is almost eliminated, allowing you to retain nearly all of zat energy until ze moment of release.” She grinned, the gleam in her eyes now obvious. “I calculate zat zis vill triple ze power of your gusts at ze very least.”
Despite the bizarreness of the whole situation, Icy found herself smiling back. “Wow, this is amazing, Miss Mode. Thank you so much!”
“It vas my pleasure, darling. Feel free to take it vith you, I vill have ze spare sent to you as soon as it has been cleaned.”
Icy instinctively waved a hoof. “Thanks, but I don't think I'll be...” she stopped abruptly. “It's not hot.” She held a hoof out, looking at the fabric and fur covering it. “It looked like it'd be hot, with all the fur and the fabric and everything, but it's not.” She paused, paying close attention to the temperature. “Actually, it's kinda cool. Really cool.”
“Ah, yes,” Mode replied, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Zat is ze vone flaw in ze design – in order to contain your energies, ze suit must be fully resistant to heat energy. On a normal pony, zis vould qvickly create an unbearable heat, but vith your energy, even vhen it is not being used, it causes the temperature vithin to remain very low. To combat zis, I vould suggest- Ah!”
Without warning, Icy darted up to Mode, putting her face up to hers, nearly touching. “Can you make me more of these clothes? Like, not a suit for action, just clothes I can wear every day, to school and out around town and that kinda thing? Oh, and maybe some pajamas, too? I mean, would that... er...” Icy suddenly realized what she was doing. Despite how many times Mode had violated her personal space, she still felt abashed and backed off a little. “Er, would that be okay?”
Other than her small initial gasp, Mode seemed relatively unfazed. “Zat should be possible, zough zey vill not be cheap. However, I can make zem, if you... really want.”
Tapping her hooves together nervously, Icy explained. “Sorry, it's just... I kinda have this problem with heat. Cold's fine, I barely feel it, but when it gets a little warm, it's horrible. I was... actually kinda scared about what'd happen when summer came around – whether I'd be able to go out and go to school and fight with the team and...” She closed her eyes for a moment, centring herself. “But, if I had a few suits of this around, that wouldn't be a problem. If you're right about it keeping all the heat out,” she raised the hood up over her head, pulled the tassels to tighten it and pressed the fabric against her skin, smiling as she felt the temperature drop, “I could stroll out into a heat wave and still stay cool as a cryohydra!”
After a moment, though, her smile dropped slightly as she thought about something else Mode had said. “I'll have to talk to Mom about the money – if it's really expensive, we may have to only get a couple of things.”
Mode smiled, waving a hoof. “Oh, do not vorry, it vill not cost a fortune. It is simply zat ze materials are qvite difficult to make and acqvire, particularly vhen I need so much as to cover ze whole body.”
Icy giggled. “Yeah, it's a good thing you don't need to cover a grown up yet. Or a lot of grown ups – I don't know where you'd get enough material to make that... much...”
Something about what she just said struck a chord with Icy and she blinked, bringing her speech and thoughts to a halt as she tried to identify it.
Material... you'd need a lot of material to make something the size of a pony. Like...
Her eyes widened.
Like an origami pony! So...
“Where did he get the materials?”
The group, all gathered in Icy and Dinky's room after Icy had indicated that she had an idea, looked up at her declaration.
“What do you mean?” Dinky asked, sitting on her bed with her legs curled underneath her.
“Well, I was talking to Miss Mode a few minutes ago...”
“We noticed,” Truffle interjected cheerfully. “Love the new suit, by the way!”
“Oh! Thanks, I guess.” Icy said, knocked out of her thoughts by the compliment. She had entirely forgotten that she was wearing her costume which, she supposed, was probably a good sign in and of itself.
Shaking her head, she refocused on her point. “Anyways, while we were talking, I realized something. The Paper Prince has made a lot of stuff, including some really big things, like a grown up pony and that paper plane of his...”
“So where did he get paper big enough to make them?” Alula finished, her eyes widening as she considered the question. The others all nodded as they began to think.
“I don't suppose he could have bought it, I doubt any shops would sell sheets that large,” Truffle thought out loud.
“Probably not, wouldn't be easy to find one that did and the sale would be distinctive enough for shopkeepers to remember – unlikely,” Alula rattled off quickly.
“Also, I don't think he'd want to pay for it if he could avoid it,” Dinky added, looking a little uncomfortable as she related her insight. “He's very focused on making himself seem as powerful and capable as he can, plus his “prince” thing is all about authority. I think he'd want to avoid just buying his materials if he could help it.”
“So, he'd need a place either in or around the city where he could get or make extremely large sheets of paper, and a lot of them, as well as a lot of smaller ones,” Alula concluded, laying out the available facts to start working on them in her head. “Also needs to be somewhere he can bring creations to roads, tracks and tunnels.”
Something flicked across Icy's mind at that last word, and she closed her eyes, focusing for a moment to try and grab hold of the thought and extrude it into something useful. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes again.
“It has to be outside the city!” she declared. “Otherwise, he wouldn't have needed to wrap the paper in plastic to bring it into the smugglers' tunnel – he could have just brought it down from the city instead of going underwater.”
Alula nodded. “Good point.”
“Could he have brought it all with him?” Truffle asked, though it sounded like he was more trying to inspire the others' thought processes rather than suggesting it seriously.
Alula shook her head. “Not feasibly. Logically, he must have come to this city somehow – train, walking, his plane – and transporting large paper, especially multiple sheets, would have been impractical.”
“Do we know for sure he didn't come from Canterlot?” Icy asked.
“I don't think he did,” Dinky replied. “If he did, I don't think he'd be focusing on things going in and out of the city, he'd probably... no, I'm sure he'd be focusing on stuff in the city. I mean, it's not... I don't exactly have any way to prove it, but...”
“Your evaluations are usually trustworthy,” Alula assured her, though she didn't look at her as she did, her eyes remaining focused on the middle distance as she thought. “Other than maybe paper plane, needed to get all paper from somewhere in vicinity of city that has access to either ready made large paper or facilities to make it.”
She hopped down from her chair and trotted towards the door. “Will go and do quick research, ask Colonel for help, see if can find any paper mills in area.”
“Probably look for ones that have been shut down, abandoned or left alone for a while,” Dinky spoke up just as Alula was reaching for the handle.
Alula's head turned slightly, enough for Dinky to register in her peripheral vision. “Good point, would be easiest for him to take from.”
“Um, yeah,” Dinky nodded, “but that's not... I mean, that is a good reason, but it's not why I thought...” she trailed off before closing her eyes and swallowing hard, gathering confidence for her assertion. “I think... I think he'd really want, like, a hideout – a place of his own. He wants to be a prince, so he'd want something like a castle or a stronghold.”
“Demesne,” Icy said thoughtfully.
Dinky blinked, looking suddenly contrite. “Oh, I didn't mean to demean him, I'm sorry, I just thought... I'm so sorry, I...” Dinky started talking rapidly before Icy put a wing against her mouth, silencing her.
“No, no, that's not what that word means,” Icy assured her, giving Dinky a gentle smile. “I don't think you were insulting him or being, well, de mean one.” She gave a couple of forced chuckles that no one returned. “Um, anyway, I meant “demesne” – spelled D-E-M-E-S-N-E – it means the bit of land that a noble owns. Like a king's kingdom or an emperor's empire or a baron's... barony, I think?”
“Yes, barony,” Alula confirmed, hoof still hovering over the door. “That's where the word County comes from – land owned by a count.” Her speech had slowed down and regained all its words, indicating that her mind was no longer in its state of intense focus. “Though I admit I'm a little surprised you knew the word “demesne”, Icy.”
Icy smiled as she recalled learning the term. “Well, see, there was this one time when Captain Equestria was fighting Baron Blood and...”
“Ah, I see,” Alula interrupted, turning the handle and walking out of the room.
Icy blinked, a little disheartened at that.
Dinky put a hoof on her shoulder. “Don't worry, she didn't mean to be mean,” She assured Icy, not seeming to register the repetition. “I think she just wants to get ahead of this whole thing. I'm interested in the story.”
Icy gave a weak smile, rubbing the back of her neck in discomfort. “Well, it's not that much of a story. Just that Baron Blood... he's a vampire, but the way,” she added offhandedly, “accused Cap of “trespassing in his demesne.” So, I had to go and ask Mom what a demesne... actually, I asked her what a “demeznee” was.” She gave an uncomfortable laugh at the memory. “Still, she told me how it actually sounded as well as what it meant, so that was okay.”
“That was nice of her,” Dinky remarked.
“Um, well, kind of.” Icy gave a slight grimace. “She first convinced me that it meant a special kind of garden that vampires cultivate, where they can grow blood begonias and plasma poppies.” She gave a nervous laugh. “She managed to get to the exact kinds of “sanguine soil” they use and where to get them before I realized something was up. Probably wouldn't have if she didn't start laughing, either.”
Dinky giggled at this, quietly and gently, while Truffle gave a deep chuckle.
“Well, can't really blame you for that,” He said as he and Lance got up to return to their rooms. “You must have been much younger at the time, right?”
It hadn't taken long to locate the most likely possible hideout – an old paper mill lying on the River Ponomac, in the valley between the Foal Mountain range and Mount Canter. It had apparently been set up a number of years ago because none of the nobles wanted a paper mill next to Canterlot “to avoid both visual and olfactory distress”, so the small river on Canterlot Plateau was off-limits. However, it had become obsolete once the company realized they could build a facility in one of the many caves beneath that river's waterfall and power the mill from that.
It had briefly surprised Icy that it took so long for that idea to occur to them. Then she learned that the company in question was named “The Canterlot Paper Company” and understood that creativity was probably not their strong point. Though, to be fair, when your sole remit is to create blank sheets of paper, creativity was kind of unnecessary, if not actively detrimental. Icy supposed there might have been a market for paper where the millers had been “creative” in its size, shape and colour, but she doubted it was that profitable to pursue.
Regardless, this mill seemed to be by far the most likely place for the Paper Prince to have set up shop. Unfortunately, one little known fact about mountains, valleys and rivers is that, as a rule, they tended to be very big. As such, while they knew the area the mill lay in, pinpointing its exact location was trickier. Because of its placement at the river's edge, it had apparently been unnecessary for the company to keep any more detailed information about its location – if you needed to find it, you'd just follow the river.
This might have been less of a problem had the team taken a pegasus-pulled chariot down the mountain the next morning, but it had been determined far more efficient to simply teleport the team down to the general area and have them walk. Icy had tried something between appealing and insisting that they take a chariot, but Colonel Steward assured them that Lieutenant (not Left-tenant, Icy had mentally insisted) Gate was fully capable. Apparently, the Colonel thought Icy was asking for a chariot for Gate's sake and not her own. Either that or he knew perfectly well why she was asking, but was pretending otherwise, intentionally making it awkward to say why she wanted a chariot and trusting Icy to be too embarrassed to do so. If that was his strategy, it was remarkably effective.
Whatever the case, the end result was that the team ended up being dropped off at a completely empty riverside, the banks stretching to either side of them with no visible landmarks beyond the mountains themselves. A quick aerial survey by Alula had pinpointed a large building approximately three miles up river.
Icy considered it somewhat validating that she wasn't the only one who groaned a little. Claiming an effort to be “more efficient” sounded good, but didn't always feel better when you were the one making the effort.
Of course, it wouldn't have been so bad had they not been travelling along a river. That said, the team was well aware of Icy's aquaphobia, so had agreed to follow the river's path from a good distance away. Icy also got the impression there was a silent agreement between the others to help distract her by keeping her talking, as the conversation was very much a constant throughout the hour-long trek to the mill. Icy wasn't certain this was intentional, but she appreciated it if it was.
Fortunately, maintaining discussion wasn't hard for the group, with the obvious exception of Lance, who simply kept an eye on the river as they followed along it. Of the others, however, conversation wasn't a problem – Dinky was always eager to chat about whatever interested other ponies and Truffle relished any chance to make himself heard. This might not have been desirable if they were closer to Mount Canter, but as it was, Icy was almost certain he wouldn't cause any avalanches.
As for Alula, Icy knew that she preferred to avoid talking that didn't amount to anything – phatic speech, as Alula referred to it, thought Icy wasn't sure why; surely the problem was that that kind of speech was too thin, though one could make an argument that it's all flab rather than substance, but Icy wasn't sure how far the metaphor carried. The point was that Alula generally didn't talk until and unless she actually had something to say, though she often did. However, it was clear that this was due to preference, not a lack of ability, as she was able to contribute plenty to the conversation when it became clear Icy needed it. She even managed to feign interest in the latest JLE storyline, to the point that, had she not known Alula beforehand, Icy might have even believed her.
Though it might have helped if she could keep her sardonic tone in check.
“...so it turned out that Lethal Lexicon and his group were being controlled by the Anti-God Magaddon, who was trying to destroy the world.”
“As anti-gods are known to do, I suppose, when not anti-addressing their anti-worshippers.”
“So Supermare attacks but gets assimilated and the rest of the heroes have to figure out... What's that smell, ew!” Icy interrupted herself, throwing a foreleg over her nose.”
Alula raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well, if the world was being destroyed, I'd probably have other questions to ask, but I supposed I'm not a superhero. Oh wait!” Thanks to her level tone, Icy honestly couldn't tell if that last part was her registering the smell or jokingly remembering that she was a superhero.
After a couple more sniffs, she continued. “Sulfur – if my research is right, that's a common smell around paper mills because of the heat and chemicals used to turn wood chips into pulp.” She pointed to the large building they were coming up to. “Definitely the second worst smell we've encountered this month.”
Icy frowned, thinking for a moment. “But I thought the mill hadn't been used for years?”
Alula nodded. “Indeed – it implies that the Prince has been using the mill himself.”
Dinky hummed in agreement. “I think he definitely would if he could – the more stuff he does to make his origami things, the more he'll feel...” she paused, trying to come up with the word, “like it shows how good and useful it all is.”
“Validated?” Alula suggested, to which Dinky nodded.
Meanwhile, Truffle and Lance strode up in front of the group, heading for the door.
Lance placed his right hoof against the door and nodded as the rest of the group formed up behind them, ready to aid the two front-liners however they should need it. Icy wasn't entirely sure they would at all, but it was as well to be prepared.
“Be careful, everyone,” Alula said, as if in answer to Icy's thought. “Even if he's not here himself, we don't know what surprises he might have in store for intruders.”
“Quite right,” Truffle added in a low rumble. “Could be a lot worse than someone throwing rice pudding at us.”
Icy gulped and nodded, suppressing a shudder at the associated memories of that particular incident. Flaring her wings, she gathered her energy as Lance pushed the door open, reminding herself that he, at least, was at a disadvantage without his signature weapon.
The moment Lance had pushed the door fully open, something dropped from the ceiling towards his head – something small, white and with lots of pointy bits.
However, like a tautened bowstring, Lance started moving – his left hoof, having been hovering above the larger of his two scabbards, rose, pulled out the katana within and slashed above his head, all in one motion. Meanwhile, his right hoof came away from the door and met the handle of the blade halfway, continuing in the opposite direction to create the levering motion Icy had seen the previous day. The falling object was neatly bisected by the strike, the two halves falling to either side of Lance with a quiet, papery thump.
It was important to remember that “at a disadvantage” was a relative term.
Looking down, the group saw what it was that had fallen. It was origami, of course, and it seemed to be folded into the shape of a large spider – a central body in two sections, with the back half significantly larger, eight long, articulated legs coming off the sides of the front section and a pair of big protuberances coming from its “head” - the length making them look somewhere between fangs and mandibles.
The thing was about the size of one of their heads and, though it looked harmless now that it was both no longer animated and in two halves, the legs and fangs had looked wickedly sharp as it was falling.
Icy approached the thing, letting the energy she'd gathered diffuse into the air around her. As she reached the nearer half, she poked it with a hoof. “Huh. You know, I wasn't expecting something so small. I mean, it was a pretty decent trap for whoever opened the door first, but it's still not much. I mean, if he knew he might be up against a team, you'd think he'd have made...” she stopped as she looked up at Lance, whose eyes hadn't strayed from the inside of the mill.
“...more.” she finished, fumbling against the wall next to the door. After a moment, she found the light switch and flicked it on.
As it turned out, he had made more. A lot more.
The mill was filled with tools and machinery that Icy couldn't even guess the use of, beyond the obvious – making paper. However, even if she did know her way around such a workspace, she would probably have had a difficult time recognizing everything, since practically every surface and much of the floor was lightly dusted with paper spiders, the points of their fangs and legs practically gleaming like shards of shattered glass. There must have been at least fifty or sixty of them. Some of them looked like they had been standing still while others seemed to have been in the process of moving across the floor or up the walls and objects of the room.
However, none of them were moving any more. They were all standing perfectly still and, although they had no eyes, Icy got the distinct impression they were staring at the interlopers.
A few seconds passed, neither side moving – the spiders were motionless, Icy presumed, because they were still processing this new development, and the ponies were motionless for fear that any sudden action would expedite their opponents' decision-making.
Then, the spiders started scuttling towards the door, startling Icy but simply making Lance and Truffle step forward, readying themselves to block the exit.
However, what caught them all by surprise was when another form swung down from the ceiling. This form was another spider, but far bigger than any other, easily the size of Truffle at least. She fell in an arc towards them, suspended by a long string made of thin strips of paper tied together and attached to the thing's rear end – a paper web line.
Had the three been looking towards it, they might have been able to stand their ground, maybe even deflect it. However, they had all been focused on the ground in front of them and hadn't thought to position themselves to defend against an aerial attack. Fortunately, the massive spider didn't seem to have enough control over its swing to impact them fangs-first, but the impact still knocked the three of them tumbling backwards into the air, allowing the rest of the spiders to exit the building unimpeded.
Lance was the quickest to react, managing to jam his sword down into the earth, bringing him to the ground in a long skid. He tumbled backwards for about ten feet before he managed to get himself under control, place his hooves beneath him and skid to a stop.
Truffle was the slowest to react, but also the one who needed to the least – his greater weight brought him to the ground much quicker, where he bounced a couple of times before landing firmly and rolling to his hooves.
Icy was somewhere in the middle – she was the lightest of the three, so was sent highest into the air, but that was something of an advantage, as it gave her time to flare her wings out to stabilize herself into a glide.
She looked to the side to see the others react to the threat. Alula's form was briefly enveloped in a green distortion before it faded to reveal a winged form. Not wasting a moment, she flapped and took to the air as well, hovering above the fray and assessing the situation, ready to be the eye in the sky for her allies. Meanwhile, Dinky didn't immediately move, but a golden glow came over her horn and her eyes – Icy knew she was speeding up her perceptions, making the world seem to move in slow motion so she could have plenty of time to react and decide what to do.
Of course, it was theoretically possible that she was actually slowing her perceptions down so that her death by spidery hoard came quicker, but Icy knew that couldn't be the case – the day Dinky gave up hope was the day Equestria imploded.
Also, it would be stupid for her to do so, since the threat was perfectly manageable, but that was by far the less important reason.
Overall, Icy thought, the team seemed to be handling the situation fairly well.
Then she turned her head forward again and that thought disappeared, along with all her other thoughts and most of her faculties.
The river was rapidly closing in on her. Or rather, she was closing in on it, but that really didn't matter. Her wings flapped forward before locking up completely, knocking her backwards out of her flight path and sending her tumbling to the ground. She fell onto her lower back, the whirling descent and upside-down landing giving her a dizziness that briefly distracted her from her terror, though it was hardly an improvement.
It didn't last, however. She quickly righted herself, keeping her back to the river. It didn't help – now that her attention had been brought to it, she could feel the rushing water behind her, hurtling down the river and indiscriminately pulling in anything that so much as brushed against it.
She tried to focus her attention forward, only to find that that was even worse. The hoard of paper spiders was just finishing pouring out of the mill's door, meaning they were mostly heading in roughly her direction. Now, she didn't inherently have an issue with hoards of small enemies... well, no more of an issue than any other sane pony, but the fact that they were flooding out towards the river and towards her – as if to either corral her into the river or simply pick her up and drop her in there – brought back horrific echoes of the trauma that had given her her phobia.
As such, she simply stood there, paralysed. She couldn't even begin to ask her limbs to move towards the fray, she would rather cut them off than move them back into the river and she was too scared even to move to the side – even if she knew intellectually that it wouldn't get the spiders' attention any more than she already had it, she just couldn't seem to truly convince herself of that.
As she trembled in place, she half-registered Alula's words.
“Lance, five o'clock! Dinky, slow that one! Icy, what are... Icy? Someone help Icy, she's having a problem.”
“I'm on it!” Truffle called back instantly, picking up a hoof after having stomped one of the spiders flat. He reached the hoof onto his side and flicked off a spider that was hanging there, trying ineffectually to get its fangs through his suit. After scuffing his back hooves a little, knocking the spider behind him backwards so he could step there, he took off towards Icy, charging fast enough that the spiders that got in his way were sent flying.
Somewhere, in the small part of Icy's mind that wasn't busy either babbling or screaming, she wondered what Truffle intended to do – whether he would try to talk her out of her panic or help her away from the area where it was a problem.
As it turned out, once Truffle got next to her, he didn't stop moving. Instead, he picked up, put his momentum into whirling around and then simply threw her away from the river like a discus.
The combination of sudden motion and going away from the water helped Icy regain her senses a minimal amount, enough to spread her wings and glide away. She vaguely heard Truffle's hoofsteps thunder back towards the hoard, but didn't pay it much mind as she skidded to a halt on the ground. She turned back to the melee.
The group was doing reasonably well, it had to be said. Lance was practically a whirlwind of metal and cloth, using both his swords to sweep away all the spiders near him. The swings didn't always kill the spiders they impacted, but they kept them away from him, only a few of the things even getting close to him.
Meanwhile, Truffle was already covered in spiders – seven or eight of them, scraping their fangs against his suit pathetically. He barely seemed to give them a moment's notice, only smacking them off when they tried to crawl up to his head, where the few holes in his costume were. Other than that, he was seemingly content simply stomping on the spiders around him.
Alula was hovering above the fray, out of reach of the spiders, and Dinky... actually, Icy couldn't see Dinky, but that was probably a good thing.
Icy picked her wings up off the ground, holding them out shakily, and tried to gather her energy. It wasn't much – she was still trembling from her near-depth experience and focusing enough to call up the freezing energy needed was difficult. After a few moments, she had called up a little and let it out.
She was briefly surprised when it managed to freeze a group of five spiders rather than the one or two she was expecting. Flexing her wings and feeling the fabric under the feathers, she remembered how her new suit would kinda-sorta-not-really-but-effectively amplify her abilities, calming her down a little. Still, she was having difficulty reaching into her reserve of energy.
She was about to start gathering again when her vision suddenly went yellow and slowed nearly to a stop. She looked to see a golden glow flowing through her suit, blinking in surprise before she felt a hoof on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Dinky looking at her with large, gentle eyes.
After a moment, Icy realized what was going on. “Oh, heh, I guess now that I've got my suit, you can channel your magic through it. Should make it easier to use on me, right?”
“Mm-hm!” Dinky nodded, giving her a small smile. “Miss Mode made all our suits able to do that – she's really good at that. But that's not important – are you okay?”
“I'm fine!” Icy blurted out, before closing her eyes tightly for a moment and breathing out. “I will be fine. I just... I almost... I mean, I'm away from it now, but...”
“But we're still too close for comfort?” Dinky finished for her. “Even though you know there's no reason the fight will go near there again, you can't stop thinking about it.”
Icy nodded, looking out at the fight that was, to her, moving in millimetres. “Yeah. I know, it's stupid – like, really stupid but-”
“Wanna know a secret?” Dinky interrupted.
Icy paused, blinking in confusion. “Er... sure?”
“I'm scared of lightning. Really scared – just like your thing. Mommy would always need to cuddle me to stop me from screaming.”
The gentle tone in Dinky's voice almost managed to make Icy forget both her fear and the fight, locking her focus on just how much she wanted to give Dinky a hug.
“But then one time, Mommy wasn't there. I was staying at Pip's house, since both our mommies were out somewhere, when a big unscheduled storm came to the town. This was when I was still just becoming friends with Pip, before I was...” she paused, clearing her throat, “before we really knew each other. But even then, when I started curling up, he came over and gave me a hug.” As she said this, she walked forward and climbed onto Icy's back, nestling between her wings and wrapping her hooves around her barrel. “It really helped.”
Icy sighed, feeling the tension in her body start to evaporate around Dinky's tiny hooves. After a moment, the glow around them dissipated, sending the fight back into normal speed and revealing a group of four spiders scuttling towards the pair, a fact that Icy hadn't even noticed until then.
A flash of panic briefly surged through her body, but by the time it reached her wings, she had already gathered her energy and flapped, freezing the advancing spiders in a foot-tall block of ice.
At that sight, her panic quietly excused itself and left.
“Huh,” She said simply.
A moment before she could start charging again, her and Dinky's badges crackled to life.
“Iota Force, report,” Corporal Ton's voice came over the badges, reaching Icy's ears in stereo. “Have you found...?”
“Spiders!” Icy blurted out, her voice still not fully in control as she pressed her hoof against her badge. “Lots and lots of big paper spiders.”
“Do you need backup?” Ton replied instantly.
Icy swallowed. “Might be helpful. Can it get here in time?”
“Not a problem,” Ton assured her. “Gate can hone in on your badges, teleport them there within a hundred metres or so.”
“Is that gonna be close enough?” Icy asked, gathering energy as she saw another group of spiders break off and charge towards them.”
“Oh, I think it will,” Corporal Ton said with a hint of humour in his voice. However, Icy didn't have time to think about what he meant or reply, as she sent a low wave of cold over the ground beneath the spiders, freezing their legs in place.
After that, she called over to the rest of her teammates. “Guys, they're sending backup!”
“We heard!” Alula called back. “Not necessary, battle well under control, but could be helpf- Ah!”
Unnoticed by any of the ponies present, the massive spider who had knocked them away from the door had spent the fight so far climbing atop the mill's roof, along with a number of its smaller brethren. It had then waited until Alula had flown within its range before hurling a cluster of spiders at her. The group landed on her back, most falling off but a couple hanging on and biting her wings.
Alula yelped in pain. Her wings spasmed and then disappeared in a flash of green, sending both the spiders and her plummeting to the ground.
She landed on her back, a couple of small spots of red appearing on her suit. She was about to get up when the spiders around her surged forward, gathering beneath her and picking her up with their eyeless heads, looking towards the river.
Icy's eyes widened as she rocketed to her feet, carrying Dinky with her, the tiny filly still hugging her like an adorable barnacle.
Icy's hooves started vibrating in place, still resisting her commands to move towards the group bearing Alula away. Lance and Truffle were both moving towards her, but it didn't seem like they'd get there in time. Furthermore, Icy was sure she wouldn't be able to get there herself and didn't want to risk hurting or immobilizing Alula with a freeze-gust, particularly since she had enough difficulty fine-tuning their strength before she gained her focusing suit.
“Come on, backup, please get here fast,” She whimpered quietly.
“Um,” Dinky began, the position of her voice indicating to Icy that she was looking behind her, “funny you should say that.”
Icy was about to question what she meant when she heard a buzzing behind her.
Before she could even think to turn around, an orange and purple blur surged forward, darting into the melee and carving a deep gash in the carpet of spiders. It headed straight towards Alula, the filly-sized comet turning and skidding alongside her, going almost horizontal. It held a long, straight object out to the side and swept it underneath Alula, knocking away the spiders beneath her and sending them flying towards the river.
The form came to a stop, turning to the group.
“Hey, guys!” Scootaloo called, leaning against her scooter's handles and smirking. “Guess who's got two forehooves and aunts who came back early!” She indicated herself with both forehooves.
Not even giving anyone a chance to react, she buzzed her wings into action and dashed back into the fray, continuing to carve paths into the spiders.
Alula shifted again, this time gaining a horn, and backed away from the melee, keeping her face to the hoard at all times.
“Don't suppose Archer's with you,” She said, picking up a spider that was coming towards her and flicking it back into the crowd, where it was quickly stomped by Truffle.
“'Fraid not, still couldn't get the slip signed,” Scootaloo replied casually as she leapt into the air, swinging her scooter around herself to smack away a spider that was leaping at her before landing back atop it.
“Annoying,” Alula said simply, her horn alight in readiness for the next attacker.
“You know, Alula,” Truffle said as he hopped onto his hind hooves then fell on his back, crushing the several spiders on there, “you're the only pony I know who'd complain about the cavalry arriving and saving you.” He rolled to his feet again, giving Alula a raised eyebrow. “You're the sorest winner I've ever met.”
“Am grateful, can go into that later, right now, need way to deal with big spider on rooftop.”
Scootaloo came to a stop off to the side of the now-very-sparse troop of spiders, skidding around to look at the building and the massive paper arachnid sitting on top of it. Her eyes quickly flicked around the building before a smile poked its way onto her face.
“Ask and you shall receive, Princess.”
Flaring her wings to life again, she rocketed forward towards the mill. At first, it seemed like she was simply dashing towards the wall, not noticing the vertical difference between her and the spider. However, she soon reached the building and went off to the side, past the point of the roof the spider was sitting on.
It quickly became clear what she was going for. The mill's water wheel was sitting far above the water's surface, presumably having been raised when the mill was shut down. Leaping off the river bank, she landed on the wheel, leaning heavily to the side so she could travel up the loop of the wheel while avoiding the spokes. She followed the path of the wheel until she was almost upside-down before kicking off the upper inside surface. Twisting around, she landed on one of the spokes going upwards, grinding along it before she reached the wheel's upper surface. Grabbing its edge, she flipped around again, landing on top of the wheel and scooting along it. From there, it was a simple hop from the wheel to a lower part of the mill's roof.
The spider was still turning around, ready to run at her, but she didn't even slow down, scooting right past the spider. The massive thing tried to intercept her with a swipe of a leg, but she leapt off the scooter while pushing it down into a skid, so she went over the leg and the scooter slid under it. Landing on the scooter's upper edge to flip it back up, she went towards the opposite edge of the roof.
Just as she was going off, however, she ducked down and grabbed the top of the chimney coming out of the wall and up past the roof. She used it as a pivot to swing around and keep much of her momentum as she ran straight at her opponent. She leant forward so her ramming stick was far out in front of her as she impacted the spider.
The thing went flying off the roof, limbs flailing as it arced through the air and landed in the river.
Now, as with all of the Paper Prince's creations, the construct seemed to be mostly unaffected by the things that would normally destroy ordinary paper, such as being immersed in water. Unfortunately for it, a spider falling to a river was almost as doomed as a piece of paper being thrown in, so after a few seconds of struggling, it perished. As it did, all its motion seemed to fade away, as if the energy keeping it solid simply ceased to exist. The moment it did, it regained the qualities of paper and quickly disintegrated.
Icy blinked as she realized something. She had seen the Prince's creations get deactivated and destroyed before, but seeing it happen in that specific way suddenly twigged her memory, allowing her to figure out exactly what the process reminded her of.
Before she could say anything, however, she felt Dinky squeeze her slightly before dropping her hug and hopping down from her back.
“Are you going to be okay now, Icy?”
Icy blinked, refocusing on the situation around her. “Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine.”
Dinky nodded, smiling. “Okay, let's go say hi to Scootaloo.”
Icy's eyes widened as she considered something. She turned to the mill, only to be disappointed that Scootaloo had already come down from the roof, without Icy seeing exactly how.
Admittedly, it wouldn't have been difficult and she could have easily come back to the ground without needing any special techniques, but considering how stylishly she'd got up there, Icy kind of expected at least a little flair in her descent and would have loved to see that.
However, after a second, she shrugged and followed Dinky, meeting up with the group among the many scraps of paper now being carried away in the wind.
“Thanks so much for coming to save us, Scootaloo!” Dinky chirped as she came to a stop. “Did you come because we were in trouble?”
Scootaloo snorted, smiling as she shook her head at Dinky. “No, no and no – I didn't “save” you, you weren't in trouble and I was coming anyway – like I said, managed to get the slip signed earlier than I thought and figured I'd come and surprise you.”
“You saved me,” Alula stated matter-of-factly, her face even more blank than normal. Icy couldn't tell exactly how much of her reaction was simply a correction and how much was because she was extremely concerned with what would have happened to her if Scootaloo hadn't been there. However, from how much she was focusing on keeping her face straight, Icy got the impression the latter feeling was quite strong.
“Nah, you'd have gotten out of it!” Scootaloo assured her. “Still, good thing I did – that was fun. Wish we had to fight that many tiny things more often.” She buzzed her wings in excitement.
Alula winced as she poked at her side, where her wings had been and where a tiny spot of blood adorned her suit. “Speak for yourself.”
Dinky's eyes widened as she saw this. “Oh! Alula, are you okay? You're not too badly hurt, are you, I could...”
“I am fine, Dinky,” Alula interrupted her. “It's just a scr-” She cut herself off mid-word, holding up a hoof for silence for a moment before continuing. “Okay, I would like to make this clear – when I say “it's just a scratch”, I mean it entirely literally. It is a scratch, no worse than being pricked slightly with a thorn. Only a small amount of damage remained after I shifted away my wings, which weren't that badly hurt anyway. All it means is that I shouldn't give myself wings again for a while.”
Dinky nodded, though her expression suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. “Okay, if you're sure.”
“Perfectly,” Alula said, the lack of expression on her face now far more natural.
“Right – it was just a few spiders, after all,” Truffle added, picking up one of the squashed paper constructions. He looked up, suddenly thoughtful. “Is anypony else really hungry right now?”
Scootaloo quirked an eyebrow. “Are you ever not?”
Truffle nodded. “A lot of the time, actually, but... ah well, guess it's just the thought of those spiders.”
Icy frowned in confusion. “Why would... I mean, spiders don't really make me hungry or anything.”
Truffle shrugged. “Don't suppose they would if you've never had deep-fried tarantula before.”
Icy blinked, her face frozen for a few seconds before what was said truly registered. “Okay, one, ewwwwwww! And two, isn't that meat? Can ponies even eat meat?”
“Technically yes, but we get very little out of it and our teeth aren't really designed to intake it,” Alula said, already trotting over to the mill. “Combine that with how much ponies need to eat and there really isn't any call for it as a true equine food source.”
“We don't get much out of digesting it,” Truffle pointed out as he followed. “Doesn't mean we can't try it for the taste. Never hurts to broaden your palate, eh? And for your information, Icy, deep-fried tarantula doesn't taste too bad. A little like crab, though I'd avoid the abdomen – very bitter aftertaste.”
Icy was about to ask after the fact that he'd also eaten crab, but she restrained herself, deciding that she'd stop asking questions.
That insight into Truffle out of the way, the group made their way back to the door into the mill. Lance took the lead, head darting around to check everywhere he could see, ready to react if any more surprises leapt out from the room's hidden corners. Truffle followed closely behind, his muscles also tensed and ready, hard as it was to tell beneath the fat. If anything came at them, he was ready to block it from exiting the room.
After about half a minute, it seemed that there weren't any more traps to be sprung on them, at least not that were triggered by entering the room. The others made their way in carefully, Scootaloo's wings buzzing and Dinky's horn faintly glowing, ready to facilitate a hasty exit for the group should it be necessary. However, nothing made itself known to them, nor could they see anything lying in wait.
Not that it was easy to tell – the room was full of machines that none of them could tell for certain the function of beyond the general purpose of “make paper.” There were massive vats with spots of a white substance spattered around them and gigantic loom-like machines with rust covering the frameworks, though the moving parts were clean. There were multiple series of tubes and rollers, some interconnected, some separate. And finally, there was a huge roll of paper sitting along one wall, along with a few empty rollers that had no doubt held similar reels in the past. The roll was about ten feet long and five feet thick, presumably to be cut down to whatever size was needed.
Fortunately, the group didn't have to look long to find something useful – in one corner of the room was a desk covered in papers – some blank, some written on, some folded.
The latter got the group tensed for action, but Alula and Dinky quickly lit their horns, poking at the origami objects on the desk. Fortunately, they didn't react to the magical prods, suggesting that they weren't animated, instead being purely for decoration.
Huh, there's a weird idea. Icy thought. Origami being used for its real purpose for once.
So, it seemed that the various bits of origami on the desk weren't a threat. However, not one to take chances, Lance drew his sword again, went over to the desk and began methodically bisecting each of them. Once this was done, he nodded to the group, confirming that it was safe to approach.
Nodding back, Alula turned to her left. “Scootaloo, are you up to speed?”
Scootaloo snorted. “Course I am – Bridge told me everything that's been going on and how you guys have been held off by paper.”
Alula sighed. “Indeed. In which case, you, Lance and Truffle look around the facility, see if you can find anything else that might prove useful or informative. Me, Icy and Dinky will look over this,” she said as she trotted over to the desk, Icy and Dinky following once they heard their names.
Perhaps unsurprising given its owner, the papers on the desk were neatly stacked and organized. The Prince evidently arranged his papers with the same precision that he folded them. Train schedules, flyers for events and a lot of photos and handwritten observations were all separated and squared away in their own sections. In the centre of the desk was a thick book that Alula poked with her magic, before she slowly and carefully picked it up and opened it, ready for any further booby traps.
Fortunately, none of the pages had been folded into origami pop-up scorpions or anything like that – Icy wasn't sure if that was possible, but she didn't know for certain that it wasn't, so it was still something to consider. Once that was established, Alula scanned over the first page while Icy looked over the desk.
“Good thing he's so organized,” She observed. “That'll make it easier to look through all this stuff. Very nice of him.”
“More than you think,” Alula added as she snapped the book shut. “This is a journal – always nice when the enemy keeps one of those. Should tell us a lot. Dinky, would you mind?”
“Mm-hm!” Dinky took the book in her own magic and placed it on the ground. She cracked it open and then cast a golden glow over her eyes, after which they started moving at an incredible pace.
Icy turned to Alula. “You sure it’s safe to read?” she asked, not noticing that it was far too late to do anything if the answer was 'no'.
Alula's eyes briefly flicked up to Icy before returning to scanning the desk. “Yes, completely safe, no explosive runes or anything.”
Icy tilted her head in confusion. “Explosive what?”
“Oh, erm...” Alula cleared her throat. “Nothing. Anyway, I suggest you look through the photos – you're the fastest among us at going through pictures.”
Icy nodded as she put her hooves up on the desk. “Right, on it.”
The pictures formed a tall stack, so it took even Icy a while to get through them. From the top, they showed various aspects of the places and things he'd already targeted. First were pictures of the noble couple – their chariot, their employees, their security arrangements, such as they were. Each picture was of a different style and quality, suggesting that he had got the photos from multiple different sources.
After that came some photos of an armoured cart travelling the route he'd intercepted, though pulled by different ponies, meaning these were previous times that company had transported secure goods along that route. Then were pictures of the River Canter from above, along with the inside of the cave the smugglers had used. All these sections looked to have come from the same camera, so the Prince had presumably taken them himself.
After that were pictures of trains, focusing on their structure and construction – the machinery, wheels, brake lines and that sort of thing – rather than their routes. These were once again taken by multiple professionals, it seemed – none of them were the sorts of things that would be hidden or classified, so it wouldn't have been hard for him to acquire them.
Many of these pictures had markings, circles and crosses on them, some with even annotations like “Don't need horncuffs” or “need ten five-foot sheets”. However, as much insight as this all gave about how carefully the Prince had planned his crimes, it didn't help much in terms of learning what he would do next.
The final batch of photos, though, were very informative in that regard, showing a very distinctive building with its signature construction and ornamentation that would have been a dead giveaway even if its name wasn't plastered in golden letters above the door.
“This is the First National Bank of Canterlot!” she exclaimed.
Alula looked over at the photo Icy was looking at. “So it is. Well, I suppose we can't fault him on his ambition.”
“Or his chutzpah,” Truffle said from a short way away.
Icy looked over at Truffle. “His what?”
Truffle didn't look up from the cupboard he was searching. “It means his nerve, his audacity – Chutzpah is a dish that traditionally used ingredients stolen from the royal gardens, so you needed a lot of guts to make and sell it.”
“Oh. Nifty!” Icy was about to shrug off the etymology lesson before it occurred to her to ask. “What kind of food is it?”
“Oh, nothing complicated,” Truffle assured her. “Just a special kind of dough rolled into balls.”
“Okay.” Icy turned back to the pictures of the bank. Among some wider and narrower shots – including one of the building's skylights with an arrow going through it and one of a massive vault door, with several arrows pointing towards it – there were photos of the walls of the building. Three of them had crosses on them, with arrows pointing out the reason they were rejected for... whatever he wanted – one was because it held the front door and had guards posted in front of it, one was rejected because held a fountain that spewed water into a pool outside and one was very close to the next building over, the alley presumably too narrow for whatever he had planned.
The final wall, though, was devoid of any such features and was circled. Within the circle was drawn a small grid with every other row offset, most likely indicating a brick wall. Oddly enough, that same pattern was drawn over the front door of the building.
“What do you think this means?” Icy asked, pointing at the patterns.
“I think that means he's planning to block those off,” Dinky answered, making Icy jump slightly – she had intended to ask Alula and assumed Dinky was still reading.
“You've finished with the journal?” Alula asked, still looking over the desk for further information.
Dinky nodded. “Uh huh, but it's not just a journal. He also used it to plan out how he does each job, including that one.”
At that, Alula looked up, a ghost of a smile finally working its way onto her face. “Well, that's fairly optimal. When is he going to strike?”
Dinky looked to the side, her smile diminishing slightly. “Oh, um, he didn't really note down the exact times, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be today.”
“It is?” Icy rocketed to her feet. “We better get back to Canterlot, we could be needed any sec-”
“Icy,” Alula said firmly, giving her a stern look. Her eyes strayed to the side, the hoofsteps Icy could hear behind her indicating that she was also directing her mild glare to Lance, Truffle and Scootaloo, who must have also been heading for the exit.
After a moment, Alula continued. “I highly doubt he's going to be acting this soon – he'll need a lot of time to make the servitors he'll need to take the bank, so...”
“Er, Alula?” Dinky piped up quietly, as if she hoped to interrupt but didn't mind being talked over. Fortunately, Alula paused and let her jump in. “I think you're right, he won't have attacked yet, but I think it's for a different reason.”
“Oh?” Alula responded levelly.
Dinky nodded. “Yeah, see, it says he made almost all the constructs he's used so far before he even started using them. It sounds like he's already used his plane to bring them into the city a few at a time. For the really big one, he's going to make it within the city, but the rest are already made.”
Icy nodded. “That makes sense. Have you noticed that, when his origami stuff gets deactivated, it looks kinda like what happened when Fire Eyes's lava ponies got taken down? He must be using something like that to animate them, putting... what was the phrase Fire Eyes used... a bit of his soul? Into all of them. And Fire Eyes had a whole bunch of them guarding him, no reason the Prince couldn't, right?”
Dinky nodded. “Yeah. Plus, he had around two months to make them all, so...”
“Two months?” Alula's brow lowered a little in confusion.
“Mm-hm!” Dinky confirmed, turning to one of the first pages in the journal to make sure. “Says he arrived about two months before his first robbery.”
“That doesn't... hold on...” Alula's eyes closed tight as she thought.
Icy raised an eyebrow. “Is that weird? I mean, it must take a long time to make a paper pony as big as the ones he does, right?”
“Wrong,” Alula answered quickly, though not forcefully. “Remember what smugglers said – folded one while they watched, took about five minutes. Could have made literal army in two months, why not either make more or not take as long?”
“Oh, well, um, I don't know for certain, but,” Dinky swallowed nervously before continuing. “It's the same reason I'm... pretty sure he hasn't acted yet.”
“And that is?”
Dinky shrugged. “He's tired.”
There was a pause, everyone expecting Dinky to say something else. However, after a couple of seconds, it became clear she didn't have anything else to add.
“That's it?” Icy asked. “He's just... wait a second!” she said as she thought back over the team's encounters with the Prince.
“Yeah, that's why he took so long.” Dinky put a hoof onto the journal. “In the time he was preparing, he says he started feeling more and more tired and was able to do less and less each day. In fact, apparently, he spent nearly the whole week before his first attack sleeping. After that, he says he was pretty refreshed, but started getting tired after he...”
“You're right, he did!” Icy interrupted as she clopped a hoof against the ground as she finally realized what had been bugging her about how the Prince had been acting.
However, she was briefly distracted by Dinky's ears going down and a slightly uncomfortable look flicking across her face.
“Oh, sorry, Dinky, I didn't mean to...” Icy shook her head and refocused on the topic at hoof. “Anyway, that's what was so weird. Remember how the ponies... the ones that were telling the truth described him when he attacked the chariot? He was jumping around, dodging, throwing stuff, whipping chains around, doing flips...”
Alula's eyes narrowed as she thought back and, though it could have been Icy's imagination, it looked like she was starting to see where this was going. “Correct.”
Icy nodded. “And it was mostly the same when he attacked the armoured cart – he was bouncing around on those springs and flinging that spiked ball around like nopony's business. He even managed to get a hit in on Lance.”
Lance sniffed loudly, but Icy carried on regardless.
“But then, when he took down the smugglers, it sounded like he was a lot less... he moved around a lot less, like he was a lot less...”
“Energetic,” Alula finished for her. “And would have needed to animate piranhas and bats after reaching cave – could not have transported psuedo-live bats using plastic wrap and likely could not animate piranhas until were in water. Had just animated lot of constructs.”
“And then, on the train, he didn't move more at than a canter,” Icy continued. “Every time he struck, he got less and less energetic.”
“Makes sense if caused by increasing fatigue which makes sense if exhausted by use of magic. But... doesn't make sense.” Alula's face fell into a scowl of both annoyance and concentration. “If was tired, why not just wait? Why not take time, recover energy before further crimes?”
Icy thought for a moment. “Maybe he was afraid somepony would find his hideout? Or maybe he didn't want to wait in case people forgot about him?”
Alula shook her head. “If had waited, would have even more guards and himself present, probably not in danger.”
“And he wouldn't worry about waiting,” Dinky added. “I'm pretty sure he knows that it's actually kind of a good thing to let stories and rumours spread for a while.”
“Also, pretty sure he should've been saving his energy, if he's planning something big – look at this!” Scootaloo called over, dragging something towards the group.
It was a short stack of paper, like the many that were scattered around the place except for one thing: the sheets were absolutely massive – at least fifteen feet long along each side. The stack was fairly thick, but the height relative to the area made it look tiny.
“And just what do you think he's planning to make out of that?” Truffle asked, eyes wide.
“Well, er, we don't know that he made that... I mean, why would he make so many and just leave them here?” Icy pointed out.
“Backups,” Dinky suggested. “He was probably worried he might damage the big paper taking it underwater and up through the tunnels, so he left some here in case he needs it.”
Icy gulped, a little intimidated by the size of the paper even without it being folded or brought to life.
“But, that doesn't make sense. If he was planning to make something that huge, he'd have to rest, wouldn't he? He'd have to know that he'd need the energy – being that tired should give him that clue.”
Dinky shook her head. “He just talked about feeling more and more tired for some reason. It doesn't seem like he's even connected it to how much stuff he's animated.”
“Makes even less sense!” Alula exclaimed. “Would have to notice... unless... Oh!” She clopped a hoof against her forehead. “Of course, that's it! Sipper's Syndrome!” She looked up, only to find a series of blank expressions facing her. Undaunted, she started speaking even faster. “Sipper's Syndrome, medical condition, means drawing on aetheric reserves not-”
“Alula!” Truffle interrupted forcefully. “A bit slower, if you don't mind – some of us aren't anywhere near as clever as you.”
“Not true, but irrelevant,” Alula replied before closing her eyes and taking a breath. After she opened them, she started speaking at a more reasonable pace. “Every pony has a well of magic within them that they draw on both during life and when using their own kinds of magic, correct?” Everyone nodded, letting her know that they were aware of this. “However, most of us can only access a certain amount of that magic consciously – a safety thing, so we don't run the risk of running out, should we ever need it. It's the same reason that, earth pony magic aside, we can only use a certain amount of strength in our muscles – we're theoretically capable of lifting much more than we usually can, but doing so would risk doing damage to our bodies, so we can't access all of it unless we really need to and can ignore the damage it may be doing.”
Icy hummed a little – she wasn't aware of that, but it was an interesting, if slightly macabre, fact.
“However, Sipper's Syndrome is a rare condition that means a pony doesn't have that safeguard. They can access all of their magic and won't notice when they run the risk of aetheric exhaustion. They'll just keep pulling from it until they run out completely.”
“Is that dangerous?” Icy asked, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind.
Alula shook her head. “Theoretically, yes, but-”
Before she could continue, the team's badges crackled to life.
“Headquarters to Iota Force, do you read me?” Colonel Steward's voice came over the transmission.
Scootaloo slammed a hoof over her badge. “We read you, Bridge.”
“That's not how you address...” There was a pause and then a sigh was clearly heard. “I suppose that's not important – we need you back here. This “Paper Prince” has made his move. Are you ready for extraction?”
“We're ready – bring us back, Gate. We'll get him this time,” Scootaloo replied.
As their badges started glowing, Icy turned to Dinky. “I thought you said...”
“I didn't think he'd move soon!” Dinky replied, sounding a little distressed. However, Icy couldn't tell if it was because of Icy's question or because she'd misread the Prince. “I didn't think he'd be that, well... stubborn.” She winced at the word, uncomfortable at having to criticize him even a little. “Though I guess it makes sense – if he didn't know why he was so tired, he wouldn't see a reason to let that stop him.”
Just before they teleported, Icy gave Dinky a smile. “Of course he wouldn't. That's our job. And I think I know just the way to do it.”
It was a clear, pleasant morning in Canterlot. Of course, most mornings were clear and pleasant – as a city atop a mountain, rainfall wasn't nearly as needed as it was for lower altitudes, so the weather pegasi tended towards milder weather. It wasn't entirely willing, of course, but if they didn't, the nobles were sure to cause a stink, which was one of the only things everyone agreed the nobles were exceptionally good at. Fortunately, the weather bureau had, with much difficulty, managed to get through legislation that invalidated weather complaints below either a certain severity or a certain number of days per month, else they likely would have been receiving protests every time one of the nobles got their mane messed up by the wind.
Whatever the reason, though, it was a pleasant morning in and around the First National Bank of Canterlot. In the street outside, ponies were strolling by, occasionally heading towards or away from the large, richly decorated building. Inside, ponies were going about their business as one might expect in a bank – queuing, depositing money, withdrawing money, queuing, sitting down to discuss financial matters, applying for loans, queuing and, if one looked closely, one might even have been able to spot a little bit of queuing.
By the door sat a unicorn security guard, though his size and build was more that of an earth pony. He was paying attention to the entrance a little, but not much, only really noticing when someone entered. Once or twice, his horn lit up as he surreptitiously scanned a new arrival, but there were very few customers entering that even the most paranoid of ponies would be suspicious of. This was Canterlot, after all – a city only barely holding itself back from passing a law banning “riff-raff”, which would translate roughly to “anyone we don't like.”
Dotted throughout the bank were a number of other security guards – five in total. Three were unicorns, like the door guard, one was an earth pony and one a pegasus. They were all hanging around the walls (and near the ceiling, in the pegasus's case), paying only minor, passive attention to the ponies inside. All in all, today seemed like business as usual.
This only changed slightly when the big, ornate front doors of the bank slammed shut suddenly.
The head of everypony in the bank whirled around at the massive sound of metal hitting metal, though the guards' heads did so much slower, more annoyed than surprised.
“Nobody panic!” The door guard called out languidly, getting up from his seat and striding up to the doors. “Just some kids playing around, I'll have them open in a second.”
He sighed – it was far from unknown for mischievous children to slam the heavy doors shut, knowing how hard they were to open. Of course, that same difficulty in moving them meant they usually had to do so in teams, but they could still usually get away with it – because the doors opened outside, they could hide behind them while closing them and run away before anypony could open them again.
The sound of hoofbeats running off confirmed, in the door guard's mind, that this was the case. Sighing at this mild inconvenience, he lit his horn, placed his front hooves against the door and pushed with both.
Things began to seem a little less routine when the door wouldn't budge.
Quirking an eyebrow in confusion, the door guard pushed again, much harder, again producing no results.
He turned his head towards the crowd. “We do apologize, stallions and gentlemares, we appear to be having some slight difficulties. Don't worry, though, we'll have these open as soon as we can.
Turning back, he pushed again, this time putting a great amount of energy into it. This time, the doors opened a tiny crack and the door guard could see a sliver of the thing that was blocking it.
At first, it seemed to be a big, regular stack of bricks, each made of paper. However, he soon realized that it was all one, big sheet of paper, folded to resemble a brick wall and, apparently, just as strong.
After a moment, he stopped pushing and the doors slammed closed again, knocking him back slightly.
“What in the name of...?” He muttered, lighting up his horn for another go. However, he paused as he heard noises from outside, though not from beyond the door. Instead, it was coming from the southern wall, on the opposite side of the bank.
There were two distinct components to the noises – firstly, there was a whole lot of screaming, as of ponies encountering something either very scary, very unexpected or both, and secondly, there were hoofbeats. However, these weren't the hoofbeats of ponies running, though there were plenty of them too, but rather something much heavier. Whatever it was sounded like it was very big, moving very fast and heading straight for the southern wall.
The door guard's eyes widened as he noticed the Earth Pony guard standing by that wall, who was looking at it in shock. “Heavy! Look out!”
Unfortunately, Heavy Duty, as his nametag labelled him, barely had time to take a step back before the southern wall exploded, sending massive chunks of masonry, as well as Heavy Duty, flying. The rubble landed around the room, fortunately not hitting any of the crowd with the larger parts. Heavy Duty, on the other hand, was knocked aside and into the western wall, thoroughly unconscious. The gathered ponies collectively took their hooves away from shielding their faces and stared in shock at the thing that had broken in.
Standing just in front of the new hole in the wall was a gigantic origami rhinoceros, its horn gleaming with unnatural sharpness. It stood at least seven feet tall and its hoofsteps rang out heavily as it strode forward, its muzzle jerking a little as if snorting with nostrils it didn't possess.
Atop its back stood a small colt in a white hoodie, mask and tail sheath. He smiled as he looked down at the crowd.
“I'd advise all of you little ponies to hit the deck – the Paper Prince don't like hurting his inferiors, but one does what one must.”
Behind the rhino, a flood of paper ponies surged through the gap, fanning out towards the crowd. A few paper birds also flew in, carrying something in their claws, though they were moving too fast for anypony to tell exactly what. At the back of the group, a pair came in bearing another folded brick wall, placing it in front of the hole. Once they had done this, the Prince slid to the back of the rhino and touched the wall, sending a bit of energy through that seemed to solidify it.
A flash in the Prince's peripheral vision made him turn his head around to see the pegasus guard flying above him, moving towards him in an erratic way, making it hard for him or the rhino to determine where she was coming from. However, he waved a hoof towards her menacingly.
“What?” the guard called out with a close-to-wonderbolt level of cockiness. “You gonna turn me into paper too, kid? Sorry, but I- Ah!” She was cut off as one of the paper birds flew into her face, blinding her for a moment.
Unfortunately for her, a moment was all the rhino needed to slam its head sideways into her, knocking her into the wall, where she slid down with a pained groan.
The prince didn't have time to dwell on that, however, as a series of mystic bolts impacted the rhino's sides, eliciting a startled jerk and a silent grunt. However, the massive paper beast didn't seem especially damaged.
“All right, keep on him!” the door guard called to his fellow unicorns, firing a series of blasts from his horn. “It's only paper, it can't be that tough!”
“You... Friggin' unicorns!” the Prince growled in anger. “Don't you ever learn? Well, that's fine, I'm happy to keep beating it into ya!”
The unicorn guards didn't have time to consider what he meant by this as, all at once, they felt something fall onto their horns and the magic abruptly cease. However, none of them seemed especially concerned, much less impressed – they were trained security guards, after all, and knew both what horncuffs were and how to easily slip them off.
Unfortunately, before any of them could even move a hoof towards the restraints, there was a simultaneous chomping sound from all their horns, causing a simultaneous pain and eliciting a simultaneous yelp. Looking around at their fellow unicorns, they saw paper birds flapping away from them, presumably having dropped the two things on their horns, which they could see were not only horncuffs, but tiny, origami crocodiles. Fortunately, they didn't seem to have been folded with any teeth except at the very front, past their horns, but they were still clamped tightly onto their primary means of defence, both causing them pain and preventing them from removing the horncuffs.
They shook their heads and pulled at the crocodiles, but it was no good – they may have been small and made of paper, but their jaws were apparently just as strong as any real crocodile's. Further, they didn't have time to try anything else before some of the many paper ponies accompanying the Prince were on them, forcing them to resort to hoof-to-hoof fighting.
The remainder of the paper ponies were corralling the civilians to the sides of the massive lobby, out of the way of the action. A few tried to light their horns to resist, but the confusion and the number of enemies prevented them from focusing on any specific target, so it didn't take long for one of the paper ponies to shove them forwards and disrupt their magic.
The Prince leapt down off the rhino's back, landing heavily on his hooves before calling out to the many ponies in the bank's booths.
“I'd get outta the way, if I was you!”
As he said this, the rhino scuffed a hoof against the ground menacingly. This rather emphasized the point, so the various tellers ran out of the walled-off section to join the captive crowd.
The moment the last pony left its path, the rhino ran at the wall, accelerating rapidly until it smashed through both the clear plastic partition and the wall behind it, revealing a room with a massive steel door behind it.
“The bank's vault! Now, it'd be nice if one of you would be so kind as to provide the combination, if ya please!” the Prince called out over the crowd, over the sounds of the security guards fighting the paper ponies and the rhino trotting back to his side. There was a long pause. “No one gonna volunteer?” There was, once again, no response from any of the tellers. “No? You guys that loyal to your job? Well, I guess I can respect that.” He shrugged. “Well, hard way it is! Reginald, would you mind?” he said to the rhino at his side.
Not even pausing to nod, the rhino set off running in the same direction once again. It didn't even slow down before impacting the vault door with a colossal clang. The door moved a little, but didn't buckle. However, neither did the rhino, which just shook its head and returned to the prince for another run.
“I'd say it shouldn't take more than ten runs to break through,” the Prince said in an aside to the captive ponies. “Anyone wanna take a bet against me? No? Didn't think so,” He said with a smirk as the rhino set off running again.
By the time Iota Force – minus Scootaloo, who was taking an alternate route – reached the bank, Icy was panting heavily. “Okay, when we get back home, I'm gonna start going with Mom on her exercises.”
“That's okay, Icy,” Dinky assured her, not looking as thoroughly wrecked by the exertion, but still noticeably weary. “You don't have to if you don't want to.”
“Might get plenty of rest now, if can't find way in,” Alula said without looking away from the simulated brick wall blocking the doors of the bank. A couple of royal guards were also standing in front of it, blasting with their horns, and though it was scuffed and showed some signs of the struggle, it was still standing. “Would probably take six to eight minutes to penetrate, too long, need quick way in.”
“I could help in breaking it down, that might make it quicker,” Truffle pointed out, stepping towards it and winding up for a punch.”
“Six to eight minutes with you helping,” Alula clarified.
“Oh.” Truffle put his hoof down, abashed.
The group thought for a moment, trying to figure out some other way into the bank, despite the fact that it was a bank and, thus, somewhat concerned with preventing unauthorized access.
“We could try going up on the roof,” Dinky suggested.
Alula hummed. “Possible, not ideal, would take almost as long, but maybe bit quicker. Keep in mind as possibility.”
Icy looked up and down the two walls she could see, but nothing jumped out at her. Well, no possible entryways, at least – she was already getting to her hooves again to trot over to the opposite corner. From the corner she and the rest of the group were at, she could only see the side with the front door, which was blocked off, and the side with the fountain, which she wanted to get as far away from as she could. Unless, of course...
Wait a minute! Oh no... Icy's pupils shrank as she realized the decision that lay in front of her. Her left forehoof started shaking so rapidly it tapped out a drum roll on the ground beneath.
“Icy?” Dinky said from her side. “Are you okay?”
Icy gulped noisily and squeezed her eyes shut, wrestling with indecision. I have to tell them, it's the only way... okay, it's not the only way, there could be another way, but it is the best way, I need to tell them, but then they'll make me... no, they may not make me but I'll know I should and I can't but I have to...
“Icy!” Dinky called out, suddenly authoritative. She grabbed Icy's head and turned it towards her, holding her gaze firmly. After a split second, though, she let go and gave a gentle smile. “It's okay, no one's going to judge you for anything.”
Icy was still shaking, but she nodded. “I... I think I might have... That fountain.” She jerked her head towards where she remembered it to be, but didn't take her eyes off Dinky – she was afraid that the sight of it would destroy what little resolve Dinky had evoked in her. “Do you remember if the pictures showed it going inside as well?” Please say no, no wait, say yes, no say that they do but that something means that...
“Yes, it's has two spouts, one inside and one outside,” Alula said, confirming Icy's hopes and dreads. “Why does that... you don't think...”
Icy nodded. “Yes, I do.” She scrunched her eyes tightly shut and scuffed a hoof against the ground. “I really do think I hate myself.” And with that, she took off in a dead run towards the fountain before flapping her wings hard against the ground, propelling her up into the air.
“Five hits and still holding out strong,” The Paper Prince called with a smirk to the captive crowd. It wasn't clear whether he was referring to the vault or the rhino, as it seemed to apply to both. “Still, I think it shouldn't take much longer, and it seems like we've got plenty of time to see.” He looked to the side, to the walls still holding and the remaining guards, who were holding out fairly well with only hoof-to-hoof fighting, but were starting to flag while their opponents remained strong.
The rhino was just backing up for another run when a voice came from the crowd. “Stop!”
The Prince held up a hoof, making the rhino pause, and turned back to the crowd. From within the middle of them, an earth pony stallion stood up, his suit remaining straight and immaculate despite the situation. He regarded the prince with a forcefully neutral expression. “I'll open it for you.”
The Prince looked over the crowd, searching for anyone with an objection. After a moment, he turned to the stallion. “You the manager?”
The stallion nodded. “I am indeed.”
The Prince smiled. “Nice to see somepony with sense. Let him go,” He commanded his minions, who didn't move towards the stallion as he strode out.
“Thank you, I'm sure,” The stallion said as he approached the vault. “To be quite frank, I don't know if you will succeed in penetrating the vault, but it seems a possibility. And, even if you don't, the damage you do to it will most likely be worth more than whatever we stand to lose, even without factoring in insurance.”
The Prince's smile broadened as he heard the stallion's words, not seeming bothered by the slight disdainful tone to them. He turned to the crowd and pointed to the manager. “Now this guy knows what's what,” He said, sounding completely sincere in his praise. “I'd keep banking here, he's a guy I'd want in charge of my money. Actually, now I think of it, he is in charge of what's gonna be my money.” He chuckled as he turned back to the vault, just as the stallion finished inputting the combination and turning the key, pulling the heavy door open.
The instant he had done so, the rhino stepped forward and into the vault. Its horn hooked onto the handle of one of the many drawers lining the walls and pulled, bringing the sealed box within out. It then trotted out of the vault again and up to the Prince, offering him the box.
The Prince took the box off the rhino's horn and smiled at his constructs. “Well, what are we waiting for – vault's open, let’s... huh?” He stopped as he suddenly became aware of a bizarre, high pitched whining noise coming from the side of him.
Turning, he saw a golden field enveloping the top of the lobby's fountain, the water within moving much faster than he remembered it doing. Emerging from the field was a filly, who he recognized as one of the group he had previously fought. The instant she came out of the field, the whine slowed down, changing into a loud, terrified scream – a sight that had the Prince momentarily paralysed in confusion.
Before the filly could even touch down, another one of the group – the swordscolt in white – came through, rocketing through the hole as if thrown. Following that, the fat one of the group came through, hovering in another field of magic and, though it was hard to tell because of the golden glow surrounding the area, it seemed like he would have been moving slowly if the field wasn't speeding things up. Finally, two unicorns stepped through the aperture in the wall and leapt out, the field dissipating. Because of its acceleration, though, they all came to earth close to the same time and all leapt into fighting position a fraction of a second later.
All except the pegasus, whose wings flapped heavily, the force of the move seeming more a result of panic than strategy.
However, whatever the case, the effect was the same – a long stream of energy shot from her wings towards the vault, where it impacted the inside edge of the entryway and formed a thick block of ice, blocking the way in.
The Prince sighed. “Persistent, aincha? Well, alright then, let's go. Gentlemen!” His minions all snapped to attention and the Prince grinned nastily. “Get 'em!”
The assembled opponents all leapt into ready positions, facing out in a circle as the various paper ponies in the building turned towards them. However, they didn't start moving towards the group, not having been the ones the Prince was really talking to.
Instead, he was given the satisfaction of seeing shock and worry overwhelm their faces as the gigantic rhino charged towards them, horn down.
However, it seemed that their shock didn't dull their reflexes as they dived out of the way. The pegasus and the blonde unicorn went to the left, landing on their feet and scurrying off to the side, out of the rhino's immediate reach, while the larger unicorn dived to the right behind a desk, her form flashing green as she did so. The fat colt stepped to the side slightly, the rhino's head going along his side, making him spin a couple of times along its body, but not seeming to do him much damage. Finally, the swordscolt ran to meet the rhino before dropping onto his back, sliding underneath it with his sword up, carving a long gash along its belly.
Once behind it, he hopped to his hooves and looked behind him, only to have to leap back to avoid a swipe of its head – the cut he's given it was long, but very shallow, its papery hide proving far thicker and tougher than one might expect.
Just after the thing swiped its horn at the swordscolt, the Pegasus flapped her wings again, forming a long block of ice over its front hooves, while the fat colt leapt onto its head, grasping it behind its horn and trying to pull it down to the ground.
The rhino shook its head, trying to dislodge the colt, but he remained firmly in place. The swordscolt dashed along its side, giving it another couple of slashes, neither of which seemed to penetrate it enough to de-animate it.
After a moment, the rhino's head vibrated slightly, as if giving a silent snort, before it rammed its head down into the ice at its hooves, smashing away enough to free one of them. The impact also knocked the fat colt a little loose, so another shake of the head was enough to send him to the ground. As it used its free hoof to smash free its trapped one, it slammed its head down at the colt, but a golden glow enveloped him and he scampered out of the way impossibly fast.
The Prince hummed as he watched the battle continue, rolling his shoulder slowly as he considered whether to make his escape. Reginald was keeping the four of them occupied well enough, but he wasn't sure if he could... wait, four of them?
The Prince's eyes started darting about to search for the fifth member he remembered them having, the slow speed his head was turning belying his nervousness. For a moment, he saw nopony else that could have been part of this group.
Then, a couple of seconds later, he saw someone sprint out from behind a desk. It took a moment, but he recognised her as the larger unicorn. Or, at least, the filly who was, since she was no longer a unicorn, but an earth-pony. Further, while her face and hairstyle were the same, little else was – her coat, mane and suit were all beige, blending in near-perfectly with the wall behind her, and her build was far different. She was now wiry and muscular, looking strong but light.
She charged forward towards one of the paper ponies in front of the battered guards. However, at the last moment before impact, she changed trajectory, making the paper pony's attempted interception whiff completely. Instead of going for that one, she instead charged towards one of the bank's security guards before leaping at him. After she left the ground, her form flashed green again and her horn re-emerged, now looking longer and far sharper than any the Prince could recall seeing. And the Prince had seen a lot of horns.
At first, it seemed like she was going to fly over his head. However, just before her horn went past his, it became clear what she was doing. However, that was far too late, as she impaled the crocodile clamping down on his horn and holding the horncuff in place.
The instant her horn penetrated it, the thing collapsed into ordinary paper and fell off the guard's horn. The filly landed next to him and, with a flick of her own horn, sent the horncuff flying off.
The guard struggled to his feet, the filly sliding off his back. His horn started glowing a blazing red and his face fell into a determined frown.
“Now, lets try this again, shall we?”
He blasted the paper pony in front of him in the face, caving in its head and reducing it to paper. He then sent off four small blasts in quick succession. The first two impacted the remaining paper birds flying towards him, obliterating them and the crocodiles in their talons while sending the horncuffs in their beaks falling to the ground. The second two impacted the crocodiles on the other guards' horns.
The two leapt to their feet and hopped backwards, far enough away from the paper ponies to allow them to slip their own cuffs off, grim smiles coming onto their faces.
The Prince gulped – it was no longer a tough decision, it was time to make his escape. He whistled into the air.
From the ceiling a shattering noise was heard. As he looked up, he saw the end of his flail hanging through the now broken skylight, a paper hoof around its handle. Shards of safety glass rained down on his head, but he didn't so much as flinch, willing his plane to fly down through the now-open ceiling.
However, the instant he did, he heard one of the fillies cry, “Now, Scoots!”. His eyes flicked down to them briefly before returning to the skylight, watching in horror at what happened next.
A few minutes earlier...
Icy ran through the streets of Canterlot, head down and focusing on her breathing. The others were discussing the group's battle strategy and, while she was certainly listening, she hoped she wouldn't be called upon to contribute. She needed every bit of breath she could get and letting any out to talk would probably be a bad idea.
“Okay, so that could work, but what happens when he decides to just cut and run?” Truffle asked, his voice slightly less powerful than normal, presumably because he couldn't gather his breath properly for his normal thunder. Still, he didn't seem especially put out by the long run. “We need to find some way to deal with that plane of his.”
“Still can't believe I missed a colt flying around on a giant paper plane,” Scootaloo grumbled as she trundled along, her wings buzzing gently. “Musta looked so awesome.”
Lance gave her a sidelong glance.
“Pft, course I wouldn't tell him that.” Icy silently fumed that Scootaloo was still spry enough to 'pft' properly.
Icy gulped in between breaths, readying herself for the unenviable task of saying something. “Are we sure he'll use it in time. If he's trying to rob the bank's vault...”
“He might,” Dinky replied. “Remember, he's trying to prove himself. If he's opened the vault by the time we're there, that'll show that his abilities are powerful, so he'll probably be okay leaving after that.”
“Either way, we need to prepare for it,” Alula said. While she didn't look nearly as tired as some might, Icy did take a little satisfaction in the fact that she was breathing heavier now that she couldn't simply give herself a powerful pair of wings. “We need someone on the roof to intercept it – that'll be you, Scootaloo.”
“Aw, come on!” Scootaloo threw her hooves up for a moment, which did not noticeably reduce her control over her scooter. “I haven't even had a chance to fight him myself yet.”
“I think that's the idea,” Dinky pointed out. “He doesn't know that you're with us. If he saw that one of us was missing, he'd get suspicious, but you can take him by surprise.”
“Correct,” Alula said, pausing for a moment before adding. “Also, you're the only one of us who can easily get to the roof.”
“Tch, fine!” Scootaloo huffed before suddenly accelerating.
Icy was about to ask how exactly she could 'easily' get to the roof before Scootaloo kicked a hoof against the ground, leaping up onto the raised pedestal of a small statue next to a building. After a short burst of speed along its base, she leapt off onto the awning of the next building along, bouncing forward into a lamp post, which she swung around to fly off down a side street. By the time the others reached the intersection to that street, she was already out of sight.
Oh yeah, that's how, Icy thought to herself.
As the Paper Prince's plane descended towards the skylight, a buzzing sound could be heard approaching from a different angle. Just before the two met, a massive whack was heard and the paper pony holding the flail came plummeting down from the ceiling, de-animating and crumpling as it hit the ground.
However, there wasn't time to fully appreciate that as the plane came through the smashed skylight and Scootaloo rammed into it, knocking it off-course and away from the Prince.
“What?! Who the...?” The Prince's eyes widened as he cut himself off, his face scrunching up, which Icy presumed meant that he was concentrating on controlling the plane, though the sweat drenching his face suggested that this was quite a strain.
Unfortunately, as much control as the Prince seemed to have over his creations, even he couldn't make a plane completely negate all of its momentum and pull an instant ninety degree turn back towards him. The momentum of the plane meant the turn was slow and, the moment Scootaloo felt it, she set her wings buzzing in the opposite direction, keeping the plane's course away from the Prince and towards her team.
Seeing this, Truffle's face lit up with an idea. He turned and, after a moment to check his angle, he ran at the rhino head first and leapt at it.
The rhino whipped its head to the side to meet Truffle head on. However, that seemed to be what Truffle was counting on, as he kicked off the head and flew up towards the plane. He grabbed the plane's nose as he went by, swinging around until he was hanging off of it, his weight already beginning to pull it down.
At that, Alula's face lit up as well – by her standards, at least, meaning her eyes were slightly more open – as she spoke rapidly into her badge.
Icy's wings were moving before her mind could fully unpack the monsoon of words she had just heard. She gathered her energy and flapped her wings, creating a massive block of ice over the rhino's front hooves. However, this time she didn't stop, continuing to flap and expand the block until it covered all four hooves and came up to just below the rhino's belly.
As she did this, Lance leapt to the side of the thing and gave it a horizontal slash, followed by a vertical one. He then gave two diagonal slashes, creating a perfect star of openings in its papery skin, before burying his sword in the centre and using it as a handle to swing himself up and over the thing, pulling it out as he did so.
The rhino shook slightly and raised its head to smash away the ice beneath it, but a golden aura surrounded it and slowed its movements to a crawl, stretching out the time before it freed itself to at least fifteen seconds, not that it had that long. Looking to the side, Icy saw Dinky's horn glowing brilliantly, her face hardening in concentration.
Icy looked to the side, flaring her wings to freeze any paper ponies that might be coming to interrupt Dinky, only to just catch one being lifted away by a bright red aura. Looking back to the bank's guards, he saw them in conversation with Alula. However, the oldest looking guard caught her eye and gave her a smile, the red corona around his horn fading.
While all that was happening, Scootaloo and Truffle were guiding the plane to their intended destination – a task made no easier because of the Prince's attempts to wrest back full control over it. However, they kept it on course. Scootaloo was using her wings to keep it straight horizontally, counteracting the Prince's command, while Truffle was swinging underneath it, using all four hooves to grasp its underside. He moved himself back and forward as needed, shifting his weight to keep it on the vertical path he wanted.
Thanks to their combined efforts, the plane impacted the rhino in the exact centre of the slashes in its hide, splitting open the gap and penetrating deep into the rhino's body. After a split second, the rhino's body lost all movement and the plane crumpled, both returning to an inanimate state, falling to the floor heavily.
“NO!” the Prince screamed, glaring in anger and disbelief at Scootaloo. “That's not... where did she come... you can't just bring in someone else!” He stamped a hoof. “That's cheating!”
“Well, don't you just sound royal as heck?” Scootaloo smirked as she picked herself and her scooter up from the plane's wreckage. Icy giggled at the idea that any real royalty would ever act as childishly as that.
Somewhere in Canterlot, Prince Blueblood's ears started burning a little. The moment he realized this, he fired his personal ear attendant, a fact that the mare in question was immeasurably thankful for.
The Prince snarled for a moment before barking. “Get them! Bring 'em down!”
The paper ponies around them, having previously stayed away, presumably so as not to get in the rhino's way, all sprang into action. Throughout the effort to take down the plane, the colts, fillies and guards had spread themselves out through the area, so the hoard of origami minions had to scatter throughout the room.
Fortunately, this meant that none of them had to deal with as massive a swarm as they might have and each was able to hold them off in their own ways, such as they were.
For Dinky and Alula, for instance, that way was to climb on the backs of one guard each, letting their mounts handle the ponies coming for them directly and allowing the fillies to focus entirely on helping others in their own way – advice and analysis for Alula and chronomancy for Dinky.
Scootaloo was able to hold off the ones targetting her simply by not letting them reach her – dashing and zipping around the room so that they could chase her and always making sure to plot a course that they couldn't predict, even if they had the intelligence to do so.
Icy, though less experienced at it, employed a similar tactic – whenever one or two opponents got too close to her, she flapped her wings hard and leapt, going into a long hop that kept her out of danger. Having to focus on this meant she didn't have many opportunities to freeze the ponies, but she still took a fair number out.
It was probably because of the more mobile members of Iota Force that the paper ponies remained spread out rather than congregating around each of their opponents. Unfortunately for the Prince, that had two side effects.
The first was that it blocked much of his vision of the battle and room around him. He swallowed as he looked around him, his head swinging heavily with each turn, as if he had to throw every ounce of energy he had into every movement. He looked towards the hole his rhino had smashed in the wall, no doubt weighing his options and deciding whether it would be better to run. It wasn't a hard decision – his minions were certainly giving his opponents trouble, but they were rapidly decreasing in number and didn't look to be making much progress themselves.
However, before he could even come to that simple conclusion, the second side effect made itself known as Lance's sword swung down, half an inch from the end of his nose. The spread out ponies had been easy for him to penetrate and he was now holding his katana out in front of him meancingly, silently demanding his surrender. His left hoof drew his wakizashi, twirling it around a little to make clear why he thought surrender was the right move.
The Prince backed up, hooves falling heavily, before he was stopped by what felt like a small foam crash barrier. Whirling around, he saw Truffle smiling at him, rolling his thick neck in preparation.
Growling, the Prince backed away to the side, encountering no other such obstacles, and took a deep breath. He was about to call his minions to aid him when he heard something from across the room.
“Don't worry,” Alula said at a normal volume – loud enough to be heard over the melee by the pony she was on top of, “he's not a threat on his own, so he'll call them back.”
The Prince blinked heavily and the gears in his head almost became visible as they started grinding slowly. Had he been less angry or more lively, he might have seen through the manipulation. It wasn't certain – while Alula wasn't always the best at reading ponies, she was excellent at deceiving them – but he might have questioned the timing and realized what she might be doing.
However, as his face rammed itself into a frown, it was clear he was taking the bait completely. He reached into his saddlebags and pulled out two large pieces of paper. Grimacing in concentration, he quickly folded one into a sword and the other into a shield, adding a small, rolled up bit of paper to the latter as a handle. With a guttural roar, he leapt at Lance, sword swinging down with all the considerable force he could muster.
However, Lance barely seemed bothered as he slid out of the way, the sword impacting the ground and making a large cut into the marble floor. The Prince swung it out to the side, but Lance ducked down and swung his smaller blade up, pushing the paper sword's swing far over Lance's head.
No sooner had the Prince reached the end of his swing than he heard the word “Banzai!” from his other side. Whirling around, he saw Truffle leaping towards him, hooves out to the side and belly forward. Thinking quickly, the Prince swung his shield to intercept the colt, hoping to knock him away.
Unfortunately, it quickly became clear that that was what Truffle had been counting on. As the shield sunk slightly into his fat, he wrapped his hooves around it and clung on tight. The impact nearly knocked him away and the shield with him, but the Prince managed to just about keep his grip on the thing. However, after a moment, Truffle's weight bore the shield down to the ground.
The Prince was about to swing his sword at Truffle when Lance leapt in, knocking the blade away with his smaller sword. A fraction of a second later, he rammed his larger blade in-between the Prince's hoof and his shield and pulled in a levering motion, wrenching the two apart and knocking the prince backwards.
Not wasting a moment, Truffle picked the shield up in his front hooves, spun around a couple of times like a hammer thrower and hurled the shield away, sending it flying across the room and into a pillar. Fortunately for the bank, the Prince hadn't had time to fold a sharp edge into the shield, so it simply bounced off and landed somewhere, though the room-wide fight made it near-impossible to tell where.
Gulping, the Prince's free hoof went back to his saddlebags while his other hoof held his sword out in front of him, ready to take a swipe at whoever first came in range. He began to take another folded piece of paper out before shaking his head and instead bringing out a number of smaller squares. He started moving backwards as Lance and Truffle advanced on him, his free hoof moving astonishingly quickly, even despite his obvious fatigue. Within a few seconds, he had folded himself a shuriken, which he threw before immediately starting on a new one.
It was probably a good thing he did, as Lance casually caught the projectile in mid-air with his wakizashi, knocking it aside. Sneering, the Prince folded two more and threw them, one after the other. The first was similarly deflected, while Lance simply tilted his head out of the way of the second. However, the Prince had been counting on this, as the shuriken curved around behind Lance and was soon heading for the back of his head.
It was hard to tell if Lance had seen this coming due to his wire mask, but it hardly mattered, since the shuriken hadn't got within three feet of Lance before a golden glow came over it, slowing it down, letting Lance know about it thanks to the magic's noise and giving him ample time to spin around, slash it out of the air and whirl back around.
The Prince's face was beginning to show some panic as he threw his final shuriken at Truffle's face. Unlike Lance, though, he didn't try to avoid the blow, but instead leapt into it, catching the flying blade with his stomach and allowing it to impact and bounce out onto the ground. The Prince's eyes widened at this and, with an inarticulate bellow, he ran forward and swung his sword into the fat colt's belly.
He felt the blade impact and seem to go in, only to be stopped by the resistance of Truffle's protective fat, being thrust out a moment later. Truffle winced in discomfort at the strike, but neither he nor his suit seemed especially concerned by it.
Lance, on the other hand, was immensely concerned with it, as it gave him a perfect opportunity to leap in and swing his katana down on the Prince's blade, catching the upper half of it with the lower half of his sword and forcing the Prince to put every ounce of strength he had remaining into stopping it.
After a moment of struggling, however, Lance thrust his wakizashi behind the Prince's sword and twisted it, sending it flying out of his grasp and into the side of a nearby paper pony. It was impossible to tell if that had been intentional, but it could well have been, considering just how easily Lance had disarmed him. In fact, it also made it obvious that he could probably have done that at any time.
However, the Prince wasn't really paying attention to such things, as he stumbled away and reached for another square of paper – he was clearly running short, but he doubtless had a few left.
It didn't matter, though, as he fumbled with the flap of the saddlebag like his hoof had turned to pudding. He managed to work it into the bag, only for it to fall heavily into it, wrenching the bags off his back and twisting his hooves around him, sending him crashing to the floor.
He put a hoof against the ground, struggling to push himself up, but could barely get an inch up before falling down again.
“Wha...? What's going...?”
A sudden chill came over his back hooves as they were frozen to the ground. The ice binding them was thin and fragile, but even so, he could barely put enough strength into his hooves to wiggle them within their bonds.
“Bu... how?” the Prince grunted in frustration. “Why am I so...?”
Icy shrugged. “Cause you've been using up your energy making your origami come alive. It has to come from somewhere, you know?”
The Prince thumped his front hoof against the ground feebly. “But... but I can... I can do as much as I... I'm the Paper Prince!”
Icy nodded, casually sending a freezing bolt at one of the few remaining paper ponies rushing towards her before continuing. “Oh, yeah, don't get me wrong, you can do a lot – it's really pretty nifty – and you do have a lot of power. But, thing is? So does everypony. It's just most of us can tell when we should stop using it up, but it seems like you can't.” She grimaced a little as soon as she said that. “Not because you're dumb or anything, I didn't mean that, it's just it seems like you've got a thing that stops you from telling how much you've used. That's why you've been so tired.”
The Prince's eyes widened before he snorted. “Doesn't matter.” he said as he pulled another piece of paper out of his saddlebags, slowly dragging and clumsily dragging it towards him. “Knew I was tired but... thought my sub... my min... I thought my guys could handle things.”
“Oh, they probably could have,” Icy assured him. “But you spread them too thin, so they were easy to get through.” Her eyes widened as the perfect quip occurred to her. It required a small amount of set-up, but...
“Yeah, that's the thing,” she said, an affected smirk coming onto her face as the Prince struggled to put a fold into the paper, his head beginning to fall and his eyes losing focus. “When the things stopping you are so thin, it's pretty easy to get through them – just put a lot of sharp pressure in one place. In other words:”
Knowing Lance as she did, Icy assumed it was a coincidence that he crossed his swords together over the Prince's throat just before she said:
“Scissors beat paper!”
The Prince's eyes fluttered closed.
“Good one!” He managed to get out before he slipped into unconsciousness.
“I see,” Colonel Steward said once Iota Force had finished recounting their final encounter with the Paper Prince. “I take it you had little further trouble after that.”
“No trouble at all, I'd say,” Truffle assured him, lounging back on his chair. “Just had to finish mopping up the rest of his paper pals.”
Alula nodded from the back of the briefing room. “They were already thinning out when he lost consciousness and, without him either taking control or creating reinforcements, they were neutralized well within expectations.”
“Speak for yourself. I was hoping to take 'em all out before the guard broke through his walls.” Scootaloo was still smirking, but there was a slight touch of annoyance in her tone. Of course, that could have been because the Colonel had insisted she take her back hooves down from the table – a command it seemed he was used to giving.
Alula nodded. “They were neutralized well within reasonable expectations,” She amended.
Icy started to raise a hoof before remembering that she had been told she didn't need to – this wasn't a class, it was a debriefing, so she was expected to contribute freely, provided she didn't interrupt anyone without good reason. Still, the official air to the room meant it was hard to clamp down the impulse to request permission to speak.
However, she did wait a second to make sure she wouldn't cut anyone off before she asked: “So, what happens now?”
“In terms of us, very little. The threat appears to be over, though we will warn all guards to be alert for any ponies made of paper they may see,” The Colonel replied, not even raising an eyebrow at what he just said. “Of course, his various targets are bound to raise a stink about what happened, but that's nothing new – we're used to dealing with that sort of thing.”
Icy nodded, even though that wasn't really what she was asking about. “Okay, that's good. And what about the Paper Prince?”
“He's being looked over by the medical staff,” The Colonel assured her. “They haven't found any permanent damage from his magical exhaustion, but they want to make absolutely sure.”
“There wouldn't be any,” Alula stated matter-of-factly. “Given the circumstances, he couldn't have sustained any permanent damage.”
“How come?” Dinky asked, having remained mostly silent throughout the debriefing.
“For the same reason its impossible to die of physical exhaustion,” Alula explained. “The body shuts down and goes unconscious long before that could begin to happen. Similarly, because his expression of his magic requires physical effort, he would become incapable of physical movement and, as we saw, unconscious before his aetheric reserves were drained to the point of damage. If his talent simply required him to expend magic, there might have been some danger, but as it is, there was none.”
Dinky thought for a moment before asking. “But what about when he animates his origami?”
Alula turned to Dinky, tilting her head slightly. “What about it?”
“Well, he needs to move to make his constructs, but from what we saw, he only needs to put a bit of energy into them to make them come alive. That's just a magical thing, so he could have gotten hurt by it if he'd already made them and just needed to give them the spark, right?”
Alula thought for a few seconds. “I suppose so. That... that is an extremely unlikely possibility, but I suppose there was some theoretical danger to him. I, um...”
Dinky smiled. “It's okay, I know you didn't see it and it was pretty unlikely. Still, I think you should keep in mind how ponies can get hurt, even if you don't mean them too.”
Icy's respect for the Colonel went up several notches as she noticed that, throughout the exchange, he had maintained a perfectly straight face, giving neither a smile nor a sigh nor any indication which he was more inclined towards, if either.
“Well, whatever the case, once he's cleared by the medical staff, he'll be tried, processed and imprisoned,” he finished.
“Sent to the Eyrie, no doubt,” Truffle added.
“I would imagine so,” the Colonel agreed.
Icy pursed her lips. “The Eerie?” she asked, trying to think if she'd heard of it before.
“The Equestrian Reformatory for Extraordianary Young Inmates. Colloquially known as the Eyrie,” Alula explained.
“But...” Icy ran the words through her head quickly. “That'd be EREYI, not Eerie. And what's eerie about it?”
Alula sighed. “It's not an acronym, it just got that name because someone noticed it had all the letters and because of its positioning – it's built into the side of Mount Canter, high up because the citizens of Canterlot didn't want its inmates in or near the city itself. And it's not eerie, it's eyrie – E-Y-R-I-E, it's the name of an eagle's nest.”
“Oh! So it's like an anagram acronym. An acronynagram! Okay!” Icy nodded, about to move on when a thought occurred to her. “So, how many times have you had to explain that to ponies like me who didn't know about that?”
“Far too many,” Alula said simply.
Icy swallowed awkwardly. “Sorry.”
“In any case,” Truffle interjected, “that's where we send all the ponies and other beings too powerful for a normal prison.”
Icy thought for a moment. “Isn't that what Tartarus is for?”
“Of course not!” Dinky looked shocked at the suggestion. “Tartarus is only for the really powerful and really, really bad people. We wouldn't send him to Tartarus – he was just trying to prove himself to the world.”
The Colonel raised an eyebrow. “I'm sure the bank will be gratified to know that the damage done was in the name of such a worthy cause.”
Dinky shuffled in her seat, looking abashed. “I didn't mean that what he did wasn't wrong or bad – it was, it definitely was. Just that, well, I don't think he was bad enough to go to Tartarus.”
Truffle nodded. “The Eyrie's for those who aren't evil or dangerous enough to be sent to Tartarus, but still need more than just an ordinary prison.”
“Just the colts and fillies,” Scootaloo added. “Grownups get sent to the Hollow, lower down.”
“Oh, okay.” Icy was beginning to understand now. “So, it's like an ultra-high security kinda thing?”
“Sort of,” Alula said. “It might be more accurate to say the security is more careful and adaptable than higher. It's designed to be able to tailor its security to each individual inmate. For example, the Prince will need to be prevented from acquiring paper and supervised when he is provided any. He needs to be able to exercise his talent somewhat to prevent psychological damage, plus it helps with rehabilitation, but his practice of it and access to the materials needs to be tightly regulated. That's not the kind of thing that's a consideration for most prisoners.”
“Don't worry, it's not a horrible place,” Dinky assured her. “It's really good at helping ponies change and get over their problems – most ponies who go there come out reformed.”
“Quite, but that's all in the future,” The Colonel said as he got up from his chair. “I trust you'll write up a full report, Miss Erroria?”
“Of course,” Alula replied.
“Good.” The Colonel gave a firm nod to the group. “Very well done, everypony. Dismissed.” And with that, he turned and walked out of the briefing room.
The assembled colts and fillies were just getting up to leave too when a thought occurred to Icy. “Hey, Scootaloo, you said the adult version of the Eyrie was the Hollow?”
“Mm-hm!” Scootaloo replied.
“So, is that the... House Of... Lawbreakers... Lacking Other... Wards?” she asked.
“Nope. It's just called that cause it's in a hollow down the mountain,” Scootaloo informed her cheerfully.
“Oh.” Icy blinked a little. “That's... kinda disappointing.”
Scootaloo shrugged. “Sometimes simple is best.”
It had been couple of hours since the team's debriefing and Icy and Dinky were just packing up their things to return to Ponyville.
Well, it would be more accurate to say that they were both packing up Icy's things, since Dinky had packed extremely light while coming and the only other things she had to pack up were the three different gifts she'd bought for Pip. She insisted this was simply because he didn't get to come with, so she wanted to make him feel a little better about that, but Icy couldn't help but notice a lack of any gifts for Archer. That said, Icy wasn't sure when and how Dinky had found the time to go gift-shopping in the first place.
Of course, this was Dinky, so doing odd things with time was to be expected.
Icy, on the other hand, had quite a volume of things to pack up. Or, perhaps, a volume of one thing – comics. Whether they should be considered lots of different things or one conceptual mass was something Icy had put aside to puzzle over later.
That said, it might not have taken nearly so long if Icy didn't insist on packing the issues in chronological order, despite having been quite unconcerned with keeping such an order when she'd finished reading them. Fortunately, Dinky was more than happy to lend a horn and the clear numbering on each issue meant she could contribute fairly easily. Of course, there were one or two snags.
“So, hold on, if this is a crossover between Batmare and Captain Equestria, does it go on the Marevel side or the AC side? And where does it fit in whatever series it goes in?”
“Captain Equestria, between two-two-three and two-two-four,” Icy replied without looking up. “It was written and drawn by the ponies doing Cap at the time, so I count it as part of that.”
“Oh, okay.” Dinky placed the comic in the appropriate position before turning to Icy. “But, that can't always be the case for crossovers, can it?”
Icy looked up with a smile and a shrug. “Nah, I usually have to kind of wing it with where they're placed – sometimes it's about who's writing or drawing it and how much control it seems like they had, sometimes it's more about how much it draws from each character and how much impact it had on them, sometimes it's just based on who I thought was more awesome during it.”
“I find that's often the best way to categorize things,” Sunny's voice said from behind the pair.
Icy jumped, fur standing on end a little before whirling around. “Mom! You're supposed to knock on somepony's door before you come in!”
Sunny looked back at the door, looking slightly embarrassed. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Though, in my defense, it's not technically your door. Anyway, Ten Ton called – he said you beat the bad guy finally.”
Icy noted the change of subject, but let it slide. “Uh huh! I'll tell you all about it later – we're just packing up to go home.”
“Let's not be too hasty,” Sunny said with a smile. “After all, you did want to see the city when you had the chance and now you do. Have the chance, that is – it's Friday, so you don't have to be back for school for a few days, so why don't we go out and see the sights? I've got a rough itinerary... a rough idea of where to go in mind, but we can work out the details as we go. What do you say?”
Icy thought for a moment. It was true that she had been looking forward to truly taking in the capital city when she first came, but...
“Thanks, Mom, but I think I'm okay.”
Sunny's smile dropped off her face, leaving confusion in its wake. “Huh? I thought you wanted to look around, is anything wrong?”
Icy rocked her head from side to side slowly. “Not really, it's just... after everything that's happened, I guess I just don't feel up to it. Like I'd be able to really enjoy it, you know?”
Sunny tilted her head, thinking for a moment. “Well, if you wanted to spend the day resting, we could always head out tomorrow and...”
Icy shook her head. “No, I... I really appreciate it, Mom, but it's not just being tired. Like, not in my body, I just... we've been working at this for days – fighting him, trying to predict him, tracking him down, even waiting for him was a bit tiring. I guess I just feel a little... empty, I guess?” She followed her explanation with a slightly helpless look, getting across how much trouble she was having putting her feelings into words and how bad a job she knew she might be doing getting them across.
Sunny's shoulders sagged, though a ghost of a smile remained on her face. “Well, I guess I can understand that, but it is disappointing. Perhaps another time.”
“Well, I'm going to come back here in about a week, probably,” Dinky piped up, looking up from the comics she was sorting. “I wasn't planning on staying very long, but if you wanted you could come with and we could do some stuff.”
Icy shook her head. “Thanks, Dinky, but that's okay. Maybe another time. Right now, I just wanna lie down in my room or a train car or just... somewhere comfortable and just do nothing for a while. I do wanna see Canterlot, I just don't wanna really go anywhere.”
Sunny nodded slowly before her face suddenly lit up. “That's it! I have the perfect solution – wait right here.” She dashed out of the room, leaving Icy simply staring, befuddled, at the door.
“O...kay, I guess?” After a moment more, she shrugged and returned to sorting her comics.
She and Dinky had finally managed to get them all in order and squeeze them into her suitcase when a knock came from the door.
“Come in, Mom,” Icy called.
“Didn't know I was your Mom,” Corporal Ton said as he opened the door. “Guess I need to learn more about my family tree. And my biology.”
Icy's head shot up. “Oh! Corporal Ton, I'm sorry, I...”
Corporal Ton waved off her apology with a hoof. “Don't worry, Icy, it's fine – your Mom asked me to fetch you – she's waiting in the ops room.”
Icy frowned slightly, trying to figure out what her mother could want there, before shrugging and pulling on her suitcase. The massive thing moved about a quarter of an inch.
“Um, I might be a while,” Icy said with an apologetic smile.
Rolling his eyes and smirking a little, Corporal Ton strolled over and slung the suitcase over his back, not even seeming to struggle with the weight. He trotted off through the door, leaving Icy to scramble to catch up to him.
When the two arrived in the Operations Room, Icy was surprised to see that her mother was now in thick clothing and wearing a massive backpack covered in fur, with a big bundle of wood tied to it.
“Er, Mom?” Icy asked, waiting until Sunny turned around before continuing. “Are you... going somewhere again?”
Sunny smirked at her daughter. “We are. See, if I'm understanding this right, you want to be able to see Canterlot, but you also just want to, what's the phrase... “veg out” for a while?”
Icy winced a little at her mother trying to use modern slang, but nodded. “I guess so.”
“Excellent, then I've got just the place! Mach, would you mind?”
As the nearby Lieutenant's horn started to glow, Icy turned to her mother. “You know Mister... er, Lieutenant Gate?”
“Oh, yeah, we go way back.” Sunny gave the Lieutenant a smile. “I mean, this isn't strictly speaking within the rules, but as long as Bridge doesn't find out, we should be good.”
Icy didn't have time to question things further before she found herself teleported. After a couple of seconds of white nothingness, she found herself standing on snow. Looking around, she saw the side of a mountain – she presumed Mount Canter, but she hadn't spent a lot of time memorizing every rock face on it, so she couldn't be sure – before she turned around and saw her mother walking towards what appeared to be a cliff.
She hurried after her, about to ask where they were, when her breath was taken away.
Below the snowy ridge the two stood on, Canterlot spread out before them. From their vantage point, they could see across the whole city, Every tall spire and medium-sized building and even many of the streets were visible from up on the cliff.
“Roc's Ridge,” Sunny said as she began laying out a pair of thick, very comfortable looking sleeping bags. “Great view of the city, a good temperature for you and a tolerable one for me and, I think, a great place for a day of rest and a night of camping. What do you say?”
In fact, Icy didn't have anything to say, but her powerful hug and rapid nodding got the message across despite this.
So, as Sunny began building a fire and Icy began setting up the telescope Sunny had borrowed for a sort of at-a-distance-tour of Canterlot, Icy smiled. After all the various things she'd seen up close over the past few days, this was the perfect way to wind down and round off her first trip to Canterlot.
One Week Later
Dinky Doo trotted down the corridor, humming quietly to herself. She wasn't nervous – she'd been to the Eyrie several times before and she knew the guards well, including the one escorting her at that moment, Miss Air Lock. Still, the quietness of the corridor and the way their hoofsteps echoed back to them was always a touch off-putting.
Still, they reached the door at the end soon enough, where another pair of guards were waiting. One's horn lit up as he swept a powerful scanning spell over Dinky. She had already been scanned when she entered the building, but the entire purpose of the facility was not to take chances.
For the same reason, the scanning spell swept over Miss Lock next, just in case.
The two coming up as clean, the other guard opened the door, revealing a long table in front of a series of thick glass windows. In front of each was a stool – tall enough for an adult, but with a step so a child could climb onto it. On the other side of each window was another stool, though they were all child-sized. Next to each window was a curious apparatus designed to allow both sides to talk with each other – a small speaker attached to a sound pickup by a thin, curved rod, with a wire attached to the latter connecting it to the wall. The whole room was clean and a little sterile, but clearly well-maintained.
Miss Lock gave Dinky a nod and took up her post by the door, waiting for when Dinky had finished with her business. Smiling in thanks, Dinky walked up to one of the booths, taking a seat on the stool.
Once she sat down, she caught the eye of one of the guards in the room beyond the glass. The guard nodded and opened the door next to him, revealing a young colt with the green coat and the folded unicorn Cutie Mark of the Paper Prince. He was no longer wearing his suit and mask, so his grey-black mane and dark blue eyes were on full display.
He walked up to the booth, a carefully neutral expression on his face, and sat down. When Dinky pulled the communicator off the wall, he did the same before curtly asking, “Whadda you want?”
Dinky gulped at his tone before responding, “Well, first, I wanted to see how you were doing.”
The Prince snorted, a sneer coming onto his face. “Oh, I'm doing fine – just fan-fricking-tastic. I mean, I'm only sitting here, in prison, with no way out and one of the ponies who put me here asking me stupid questions. I've never been better!”
Dinky winced, clearly pained by his words, but didn't back away. “Well, I mean, it's not...”
“Yeah, yeah, it's not the worst place in the world,” the Prince interrupted her. “It's comfortable, it's got plenty to do, all that crap. Doesn't change the fact that it's still a prison. Now get to the point – why are you here?”
Dinky gulped. “Well, I just wanted to say...”
“No, no, wait, lemme guess!” The Prince cut her off again, a mocking smile coming onto his face. “You wanted to say that you're sorry. That you're sorry that I'm here, that I got beat, that I'm not like you,” He scoffed, looking as if he was having to restrain himself from spitting on the glass. “Well, if that's what you're here to say, then you can just screw right off! Maybe I am up a creek right now, maybe you did beat me, but it don't matter – I don't need your pity! You got that?!” He was almost shouting now, the guard behind him looking ready to step in if things got too noisy. He started taking the apparatus away from his ear, read to slam it down, when Dinky spoke up.
“You wanna know something funny?” she asked, looking uneasy.
The Prince stopped, looking at her suspiciously. “What?”
Dinky gulped. “I... I really didn't pity you before but, well... I kinda do now.” She grimaced, clearly not relishing that fact. “I do feel a teeny bit sorry for you if you really can't tell the difference between pity and sympathy.”
The Prince stopped, a little shocked at this statement. “What in the... what are you talking about?”
Dinky sighed. “Well, pity's for when you think somepony's... when they're lower than you,” she said, as if the concept of thinking that was alien to her. “When they're worse than you, when you think you're better than them, when... when you're looking down on them. I don't feel that with you as a pony, but I do think that not knowing the difference is... well, it's not a good thing. But sympathy... sympathy is for when you, well...” She paused for a moment, trying to come up with the words. “It's not just for when you feel sorry that something bad's happened or someone's done something wrong. That is part of it, but it's more for when you want to help them because... because you understand. You know what it's like or you can imagine it or... or you just want to help them because you think they're worth helping.”
Throughout Dinky's little speech, the Prince's face had gradually fallen into a more straight expression – clearly skeptical, but also clearly listening. “Alright, so you “understand” me, do you? You know about me? So tell me, little unicorn,” he leaned forward, a tiny smirk coming onto his face, “what's my name?”
“Loose Leaf,” Dinky answered without a moment's hesitation.
The Prince flinched back as if physically struck. “What... How did... Oh, lemme guess, you asked the guards and...”
“No,” Dinky interrupted him gently. “I found out on my own.”
The Prince raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“Well, I knew you came from a family business that made paper,” Dinky explained. “That's why you were able to use all the stuff in the paper mill.”
The Prince rolled his eyes. “Wow, what a brilliant deduction, my jaw is on the floor. There are loads of paper makers in Equestria, that won't tell you nothing!”
“But most of them aren't unicorn families,” Dinky said, causing the Prince's jaw to actually hang open for a second. “It's usually an Earth Pony business.”
“How did you...” the Prince began before shaking his head, getting rid of his surprised expression.
Dinky shrugged. “The way you always talked about unicorns. The special kind of dislike you had for them.” She rubbed at her horn self-consciously. “It was... kind of obvious you had some bad history with them.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get that, but...” the Prince paused, thinking for a moment, “but that could mean anything – coulda been other kids, other grown-ups, how did you know it was my family?”
“Well, it was how you... didn't like them,” Dinky explained, dancing around the word hate as if she feared to touch it with her thoughts. “It wasn't just that they were bad, it was that they thought they could do anything they wanted, that they thought their magic was all they needed to win, to have power over you. You didn't just... dislike them as a race, you disliked them as an authority. That meant either teachers or parents, and since you're old enough that you've probably had a few teachers that weren't unicorns, well...” she trailed off, giving a slightly helpless looking shrug.
The Prince stared at her for a few seconds, trying to reconcile the detailed analysis he'd just heard with the harmless-looking filly before him. After a moment, he chuckled. “Alright, I'm a little impressed. Congratulations.”
Dinky winced. “Well, that wasn't what I... I just wanted to show that... I get it.” She looked the Prince dead on, eyes resolute. “They didn't think your talent was worth anything, did they? They thought it was only good for silly little craft projects, that it was useless, that... they thought you were useless, didn't they?”
The Prince kept eye contact for a couple of seconds, eyes starting to quiver slightly. “You... I...” He wrenched his head to the side, as if escaping some sort of restraint, and squeezed his eyes shut. “You don't know what it's like! To get looked at like you're just an idiot, like you'll never... you never could be anything, like you're some kinda toy! To be told that, if you can't do the things they want you to... if you can't be who they want you to be, that... that you're nothing.”
“You're right,” Dinky said quietly. “I don't know what that's like for certain. My mommy's always been nice to me. But... but I can imagine it.” She gave a slightly sad smile, even though the Prince wasn't looking at her face. “I kinda wish I couldn't, but I can.” She paused before adding. “I asked if your family had come here or sent a message or... if they'd done anything to contact you. They didn't, but the Guard did contact their company to let them know what had happened to you.”
The Prince glanced up. “And what did they say?”
Dinky closed her eyes, a slight moistness coming over them. “That the Guard needed to make an appointment or send a letter.”
The Prince's eyes were also misting up slightly. “Figures.”
Dinky nodded. “Yeah. That's... that's really horrible. But... but just because they don't care, that...” she cleared her throat and caught his eye again, holding his gaze intensely and putting every ounce of her considerable sincerity into her next words, “that doesn't mean you're alone. You're not!”
“What do you mean?” the Prince turned his head slightly, though he didn't break eye contact.
“I mean that I'm here for you. I want to help you. And, I know it may not feel like it, but so do the ponies here. They do need to keep you here, but they also want to help you get past this whole... all this stuff. They want to help you find a way to live with other ponies and live as yourself without fighting, without needing to commit crimes or attack ponies. They want you to find a way to use your talent without hurting anypony.”
At that last point, the Prince raised an eyebrow. “And you were doing so well.” A ghost of a smile finally worked its way onto his face. “See, I may not have been what you'd call a law-abiding citizen recently, but I haven't hurt anypony – least, not in any way they couldn't afford. I'm not a monster, I made damn sure no one'd get hurt. Unless you're really trying to tell me that unicorn couple with the gold chariot really couldn't bear having a little cut on their horns or couldn't afford to lose a few bits. I chose 'em cause I knew they could – they didn't get hurt.”
Dinky sighed. “And the Pegasi pulling the chariot?”
The Prince rolled his eyes. “Oh, so they lost a few tail hairs, what a tragedy!”
Dinky nodded. “Mm-hm, a few tail hairs... and their jobs.”
The smile dropped off the Prince's face like a lead weight. “What?”
“They lost their jobs. The couple were angry they weren't able to stop you...”
“That wasn't their fault!” the Prince said, shocked at the thought. “They couldn't do anything about...”
“I know, but I guess their bosses didn't see it like that,” Dinky interjected. “One of them's found another job – it doesn't pay nearly as well, so his family are gonna have to tighten their belts, but they should be okay. The other one... well, he'll probably find another. I hope so, at least.”
The Prince frowned, his eyes hardening. “Well, you can't blame me for that – those two little.... they're being unreasonable!”
“Yeah. Yeah, they really are. But, well, you did still cause them to start thinking like that. Also, please tell me the truth here: after what you learned about those nobles, would you have expected them to be reasonable about this?”
The Prince's silence told her all she needed to know.
Dinky gave another sigh before her face lightened up slightly. “Of course, it wasn't that bad for all your victims – the stallions pulling the armoured cart still have their jobs.”
The Prince sighed. “Well, I guess that's...”
“They just had their pay cut.”
“But... but they weren't responsible for...” the Prince trailed off.
“Oh, no, their company didn't do it cause they were angry at them,” Dinky assured him. “Everyone at the company's getting a smaller salary. Armoured carts are pretty expensive and they've got to get the money for repairs or a new one somewhere.”
The Prince growled. “Look, I don't know what you're... Maybe I... It's not just my fault all that happened – you gotta admit, the ponies employing them were being hauncholes too.”
Dinky nodded. “Yeah, what they did was wrong, but that doesn't mean what you did wasn't. Plus, it wasn't all somepony else's fault. At the bank-”
“Oh, come on!” the Prince interrupted her, throwing his hooves up. “They helped you beat me, the bank couldn't have punished them!”
“Oh, no, they didn't – they've all still got their jobs and are getting paid as much as before.” Dinky smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Heavy Duty's even getting paid while he's on leave.”
“On leave? Why-?” The Prince cut himself off, suspecting he wouldn't like the answer. “Who's Heavy Duty?” he asked, hoping but not expecting that answer to be slightly less damning.
“He was the Earth Pony on the other side of the wall you broke down,” Dinky explained before thinking for a moment. “Though, I mean, I guess if somepony was gonna be, it's a good thing it was him, he's tough. He only got three cracked ribs and a broken leg.”
The Prince's jaw worked silently for a few moments, trying to come up with any kind of justification but clearly failing. Eventually, he screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Okay, so maybe I... what about the train? I know I didn't hurt anyone too bad on the train. There weren't any forces who coulda stopped me, so nopony could be blamed for that, all the ponies I robbed were ones who could afford it and the brakes of that train needed replacing anyway – I know that was okay.”
Dinky's mouth pursed and went to the side as she considered this. “Yeah, I guess it was... up till you sent it out of control. After that...”
“No one woulda got hurt from that either!” the Prince insisted.
Dinky tilted her head slightly. “Did you know that the engineer would have been able to stop it? Even Alula didn't know that. And if you did know it'd be easy to stop it, you wouldn't have done it as a distraction.”
The Prince shook his head. “That's not what I meant. I figured there was a good chance you'd figure something out, but even if you didn't, no one woulda gotten hurt. All you needed to do was get the engineer onto the passenger cars and uncouple them from the engine – I know you'd be able to realize that. And if you didn't, the engineer himself would, so everypony'd be safe and the engine could just go on without hurting anypony.”
Dinky took a deep breath in, clearly not looking forward to saying her final question.
“What about the ponies at the station?”
The Prince blinked heavily. “What?”
“The Station. If we had decoupled those cars, the engine would have kept going and crashed into the station,” Dinky explained, sounding very hurt by the words she was saying. It wasn't clear whether the pain came from the image she was painting, the fact she was confronting the Prince with the possible consequences of his actions or both. “A lot of damage would have been done and a lot of ponies would have gotten hurt. Maybe even...” She cut herself off, cringing at the prospect.
The Prince stared at her blankly, the sheer enormity of what she was saying seeming to have halted his mental processes.
Dinky swallowed heavily. “I'm sorry. I know you thought you didn't have any real victims, but... well, I don't know if there are crimes that don't.”
The Prince continued to say nothing. After about ten more seconds of silence, his shoulders sagged and he sighed.
“I... I guess saying sorry really isn't enough after all that, huh?”
Dinky shook her head. “No. No, it's not enough.” A tiny smile poked its way onto her lips. “But it is a start. It's not the only step, but it is the first step.” She put a hoof up against the glass, bringing the Prince's gaze up to her. “It's not gonna be easy – redemption isn't something anypony can just give you, you have to find it and earn it for yourself. But if you're sorry – really sorry – if you accept that what you did was wrong and that it was your fault, if you don't make excuses for it or try to justify it and if you really work to change, then, well... you can. I mean, you can't just say you've changed and that you're better, you have to act like it, you have to be better. I...”
She paused, aware that she was rambling a little and working to focus on what she had to say next. “I'm not gonna say that you being here isn't punishment – it kinda is and I think you understand why you do need some. But it's... it's called a reformatory cause that's what it's here for. To help you... to help anypony that comes here to reform. To change their ways, to... to become better. Because they... because you can become better.”
The Prince put a hoof against the corner of his eye, pre-emptively wiping away any tear that might escape. “You... you really think that, don't you?”
Dinky shook her head. “No. No, I don't think that you... that anypony can change, can reform, can become better.” Her brow furrowed and her face set with an expression of implacable resolution. “I know it!”
“Dang it,” the crystal guard said as he descended the stairs into the palace's wine cellar, “who needs a bottle of wine at this time of night? And can't just get it themselves? Frigging chefs.”
Continuing to grumble, he stormed into the room proper, his annoyance not quite enough to overwhelm his care about where he was putting his spear – he was no epicurean, but he knew just how valuable many of the bottles in this basement were.
It was because of this that he wasn't looking directly in front of him for a moment and almost walked right into a small wine rack situated right in the middle of the room. Fortunately, his peripheral vision was sharp enough that he noticed it just before he would have hit it, sending his head whipping towards it and his hooves hard into the floor, locking him in place.
“Gah!” he exclaimed, backing up a little and walking around the obtrusive installation, careful not to touch the rack or the probably-valuable bottles on it. “Stupid place to put that!”
Once past it, he continued to the back of the room, where the stores of the ordinary wine were kept. He quickly opened the bag he'd been given and shoved three bottles in. He'd only been asked to fetch one, but he knew how chefs worked and he wasn't about to come all the way back down here just because they'd realized they needed more.
Snorting at the waste of his time, he carefully stepped around the central rack again before heading up the stairs and out of sight.
Once the sound of the door to the cellar opening and closing had faded, the wine rack breathed a sigh of relief.
“That was too close,” it muttered as its form began to wobble and distort. In a few seconds, it faded into nothingness, revealing a small filly standing where the image had been, her head covered by a domed crystal helmet.
The filly smiled as she too walked to the back of the room, taking a key out of her small saddlebags.
“Good thing the guards are so stupid,” she continued murmuring as she gently thrust the key into a blank section of wall. “Everypony knows that's not how a wine cellar's laid out.”
She fiddled with the key for a short while, scraping it around the wall apparently in search of a keyhole, even though there wasn't one visible.
After a moment, however, it fell through a solid-looking section of the wall, clicking as it shifted the tumblers in the hidden keyhole and turned.
Pushing forward, the filly's hoof disappeared through the wall as well, soon followed by the rest of her.
Over the near-imperceptible sound of the pristine door hinges closing, the filly's muttering could just about be heard through the illusion.
“It doesn't matter – I'll be done soon anyway. Soon, Sombra's secret will be mine!”
