Between two glossy marble pillars, perched behind a wide-open window with a breath full of hot summer air, she sat there, draped in crumpled velvet silks. The castle basked in the dark of night, where the candlelight revealed a face worn heavy with dread. Twirling her hoof around the cold stone sill, her thoughts drifted back to lucid memories of revelry and bliss. For not just a few months ago, she was enjoying the comforts of a life fitted by purpose. She was a princess’ pupil, trained to spread peace and harmony across the land. Serving an ideal she believed in, that life was nearly hers. Now, the fantasy could endure only in her own mind; in the current day her world had been turned inside out.
Starlight Glimmer was alone in the castle, which had just recently been gifted to her by Twilight Sparkle herself. Not long before, Twilight came to succeed Princess Celestia and Princess Luna as the reigning sovereign of Equestria, following the triumphant defeat of the Legion of Doom. Twilight's coronation had been a lively affair, with the entire city rousing itself, taking to the streets to stage parade and festivals, and soon enough the entire nation was following suit. Though Celestia herself could not attend the coronation, Twilight had been graced by the ambassadors of Equestria's allies, along with a loyal retinue of ecstatic foreign guests from across the sea. But for all the celebrations, there remained one who sat colored a strange shade of gloom.
Starlight's dress was deep purple, a costly thing gifted to her by the changelings. Her purple mane was unkempt after a day of meetings and paperwork, and twisted softly in the pillows of wind.
The walls of the Castle of Friendship sometimes seemed to whisper to Starlight: cold, dreary, frightful things. In the echoey halls of the castle, she never quite felt alone.
But she did feel ashamed, at points; she was no princess, after all. To indulge herself in the livelihood of one, as a result, did little to help her adjust to this new reality. Twilight may have given her the honorary title, Lady Protector of the Lowlands, but for all the titles and gold and glory, the grandeur of the castle felt unearned.
On the morrow was Twilight’s formal farewell ceremony, before she was to leave Ponyville and assume her residency in Canterlot. That week there had been a six-day long festival, organized by the combined effort of Mayor Mare, Pinkie Pie, and an array of other Canterlot politicians seeking to gain favor with Equestria’s newest monarch.
The party hadn’t stopped for an entire week, and Starlight was feeling as exhausted as everypony else in town. Pinkie Pie had even allegedly crashed through the second-story window of Rarity’s boutique, having attempted a front-hoof stand after managing to gulp down four mugs of cider in the span of five minutes.
In less than a day's time, Twilight would be gone. Starlight would be without direct counsel for the first time in over a year. The very thought of it paralyzed her with fright. She was a weapon of mass destruction in essence, and should she ever lose her concentration on Twilight’s friendship lessons for just a moment, she very well could be responsible for some unthinkable catastrophe. Considering her track record, such an outcome was hardly implausible.
These grim ruminations had long toiled in the backmost crevices of her mind; though now that she had finally arrived at that critical moment where her beloved mentor would desert her at last, it was as if the world itself was crumbling down around her.
Starlight had long been conscious of her insecurities; she feared responsibility as long as she had the capability to corrupt it.
Her old world was waning; she would be without proper guidance and, potentially, at a loss of most of her dearest friends.
Her eyes wandered up towards the stars laced in the night sky, beyond the forest line, which were like shimmering vestiges of memories past—out of reach perpetually.
Deciding not to waste more time meandering on what was to come, Starlight abruptly shut the curtains to her bedroom window, slipped out of her dress, and sauntered over to her bed, hoping some needed rest would cure her of her anxiety.
Starlight awoke the next morning in a haze, the sun-baked pinks and reds of her bedroom welcoming her to a new day.
She yawned while stretching her legs beneath her pink satin covers. Glancing forebodingly at her nightstand clock, she was begrudged to learn that she had slept through her alarm.
8:37 a.m.
She promptly persuaded herself into climbing out of bed, and trotted over to her bathroom to prepare herself for the day, grumbling all the way.
It took her a full hour to prepare; she had to shower, brush and style her mane, apply a minimal amount of makeup, and, of course, squeeze herself back into her deep purple dress, the midsection of which was so tight around her chest it was bordering on asphyxiating.
Luckily, she wouldn’t have to wait more than a few seconds after finishing up her morning preparations, before a knock at the front door echoed throughout the spacious halls of the castle.
She’s early.
Starlight put down the book she had just picked up to read while she was to wait, and quickly made her way out of her bedroom and down the stairs, arriving at the front door in less than a minute.
Swinging it open, the face of an azure-colored unicorn with deep violet eyes welcomed her.
“Trixie! You’re not late! I’m impressed,” Starlight said, smirking. Trixie snarled in response.
“It’s too early for this!” Trixie said, flatly. Starlight noticed the bags around Trixie’s eyes, and the misery that lay plain on the magician’s face. Trixie, similar to Starlight, was also dressed for the ceremony, stuffed inside a poofy baby-blue dress that resembled something a princess herself would wear.
“This will be over quick. Then you can go back to bed. It’s what you do best, after all,” Starlight said, nudging Trixie to step to the side so she could walk out from the front door.
Behind Trixie was a stupendously luxurious carriage, complete with soft purple drapes and shiny gold fixtures. There were two stallions stationed in the front and attached to the carriage braces, wearing clean uniforms and keeping their eyes straight ahead. Starlight marveled the splendorous vessel, while Trixie was busy rolling her eyes.
“Glad you like it. Guess when they made me pick it up. Five a.m." Trixie said, explaining her exhaustion. “How could anypony do that to me?! Don’t they know who I am?!”
“I'm sorry, I'd have picked it up if I knew. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” Starlight said, taking Trixie by the hoof and leading her towards the open carriage door.
Trixie made way for Starlight to climb inside the carriage first, before pulling herself up to join her.
Crammed facing each other in the carriage, the two tried their best to get comfortable without crumpling their formal attire.
“I don’t understand why I even have to go to this,” Trixie whined.
“I told you already, I need you. And Twilight said she’d love for you to come!” Starlight said, though in truth she hadn’t consulted Twilight at all about bringing Trixie along. Starlight had hoped the two might have some final reconciliation in spite of their rocky relationship, before the indeterminable period of separation was to befall them both. “You’re my plus-one, Trixie. And I’ll probably get bored and just be talking with you anyway. And besides, you've got hundreds of ponies to sell your act to.” Starlight said.
Trixie had not thought of that.
“Ok. But you owe me one,” Trixie said.
“Deal,” Starlight confirmed.
Though Starlight had her reservations, she could at least find solace in that she had one friend left at her side, which was certainly enough.
Through the passenger window of the carriage, Starlight’s eyes flickered past the town of Ponyville, streamers, lights, and colorful ornaments decorating the streets. The festival had pulled in ponies from near and far, and it put Starlight at ease to see so many smiling faces passing by.
The carriage gradually came to a stop near the town square, while the surrounding streets grew to be full of ponies drawing in from all directions.
“We’re not too late, are we?” Starlight asked, having to raise her voice to be heard over the crowd outside.
“Fashionably late, if anything,” Trixie replied, snickering to herself as she reached over the cabin to pull open the door.
Trixie stepped out first, and immediately she almost trampled some unsuspecting pedestrians walking below. She landed on the road delicately, careful not to let any of the pedestrian ponies walk over her dress. It happened to be expensive, or at least Trixie hoped it appeared to be. Starlight followed her out of the carriage soon after, her starry-eyes beaming with astonishment at the size of the surrounding crowd. There were so many ponies packed together, it seemed nopony had the freedom to move more than a foot or two in any direction. The crowd was bursting at the seams with excitement, having gathered for the climactic final act of the week-long festival. Still, there was a bittersweetness to the celebration, for in just an hour or two the town of Ponyville would be without its greatest protector.
“Everypony make way! VIP guests here!” Trixie yelled, grabbing Starlight by the hoof and leading her through the crowd. Trixie showed little restraint, as she forcibly shoved her way through pony after pony, dragging an embarrassed Starlight behind her.
“Thank you for the ride!” Starlight managed to say to the carriage drivers, though the crowd was so noisy she wasn’t even sure she was heard.
“Come on, Starlight, keep up,” Trixie said, tugging on Starlight’s front leg.
“What are you, my bodyguard now?” Starlight asked, amused.
Trixie rolled her eyes, continuing her aggressive pursuit through the crowd of ponies. There were children and old folks, and creatures of strange looks who must have traveled from very distant lands.
“All these ponies came here just to see her?” Trixie muttered.
“You've got to admit, she's got you beat at drawing a crowd,” Starlight smirked.
“I would never admit that,” Trixie retorted.
Trixie and Starlight continued navigating their way through, heading towards the center of the square, where a large wooden podium platform had been raised and a special guest seating area was waiting. There were large tables of white wood set up beneath strings of small lights and other decorations. Confetti drifted through the breeze like flurries of snow, and the wind itself smelled of cinnamon and sugar.
Trixie was first to break through to the edge of the crowd, which fizzled out near the VIP seating area that preceded the mighty podium platform. But before Starlight or Trixie could begin making their way to their seats, a pony unexpectedly stepped in front of them to block their path.
“Excuse me, this is for special guests only,” said the pony, a pegasus royal guard with a light cyan coat and soft orange eyes.
Starlight stared at the guard blankly, having expected to be recognized.
“Yes, I know, um I’m...Starlight Glimmer?” Starlight said, her voice wavering.
The guard begrudgingly checked her list.
“...Oh! There you are. My mistake, right this way,” the guard said, stepping out of the way.
Trixie scoffed and stomped past the guard, while a mildly embarrassed Starlight trailed after.
“Typical royal guard material right there,” Trixie muttered.
“Starlight! Trixie!” called out a voice from behind them.
Starlight turned to be met by a creature who bore not a pony’s face, but rather that of a changeling.
“Thorax! It’s great to see you!” Starlight said, leaning in for a quick embrace, which Thorax accepted without hesitation. Thorax was dressed in a set of ceremonial armor, his bright green skin peeking through plates of spectacular silver. His orange antlers were bent against a crown made of solid gold, which sat a few inches above his eyes.
“I think we’re about to get started any minute now...You’ve met Ember, right?” Thorax asked, glancing over at a sleek-figured dragon with cerulean scales and ruby eyes, hidden beneath golden armor molded in dragonfire. She had been with Thorax from a few feet back, now approaching the group while smiling politely.
“Starlight Glimmer, I remember you,” Ember said, respectfully shaking Starlight’s hoof. She turned to Trixie, "And..."
"Trixie, pleased to meet you," Trixie introduced, shaking the dragon's claw.
“You two really made the trip all the way out here?” Starlight said, impressed.
“Of course! Anything for a friend,” Thorax said.
“We wanted to be here,” Ember said, “These days, we've got to stick together. You never know what monsters may pop up out of nowhere.”
Trixie stole a glass of champagne off of a passing waiter's tray, and slugged it down in two great sips.
"It's a shame that Celestia and Luna couldn't make it," Starlight said.
Ember's smile slipped off her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but Thorax jumped in first.
“Starlight, you must be moving up to Canterlot with Twilight, right? As her right-hand?” Thorax asked Starlight.
Starlight hesitated.
“Um, no, no I’ll still be here. That’s where Twilight wants me,” Starlight said, punctuated with some nervous laughter.
“Still following her every command?” Ember asked, half-jokingly.
“...I suppose she is the Princess of Equestria now. If anyone can boss me around, it’s her,” Starlight said, laughing off the remark.
“As long as you’re happy, I mean," Ember said, "After everything we've been through, now I think it's safe to say Equestria's best days are ahead of us."
“More than you know, Starlight," Thorax said, glancing at Ember, "We've been putting a lot of plans together. We'd love to fill you in about everything."
Ember nodded her head, enthusiastically.
“If not for you, Equestria might not be standing,” Ember said, "You've got big things ahead of you, Starlight. And we could use your help to make Equestria even better."
“I’m sure we’ll get a better chance to discuss all that at the afterparty,” Thorax said.
“Afterparty?” Starlight asked, uncertain what he was referring to.
Thorax glanced at Ember, who was glaring at him.
“The afterparty? You were invited, you had to have been,” Thorax said, hoping he wasn’t incorrect.
To Starlight’s despair, she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.
“I guess not,” Starlight said, her head dipping downwards in forlorn.
“Oh...Well don’t worry about the invitation. It’s in the town hall tonight, at seven. Us and some other creatures are having a last meet-up before we all take off tomorrow. There's supposed to be some important announcements, too. You should come, it’s always more fun with you there,” Thorax said, coaxingly.
"Thorax, I'm not sure Starlight would be interested in-" Ember began, speaking softly.
"No, I think she'd be quite welcome," Thorax said, sharply.
Starlight noticed the restraint in the dragon's voice, and the strange assertiveness in Thorax's voice. They were having an unspoken conversation, she deduced, one she could not understand.
“Sure, I'd love to stop by,” Starlight said. If she was to be assuming Twilight's role in Ponyville, she might as well begin stepping up to her colleagues' expectations.
“Here, sit with us,” Thorax proposed, motioning for the group to take their seats at one of the circular white tables. Starlight glanced at Trixie, who was daydreaming, staring off into space to compensate for not being as involved in the conversation.
“Hey,” Starlight said, shaking Trixie alert with her hoof. Trixie had previously been staring off into space, trying her best to recall the missing song lyric of a late-night TV show intro she had caught yesterday.
Starlight nodded towards the table Ember and Thorax were headed towards, and Trixie quickly understood.
Starlight could make out the outline of Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity, all officially the top guests of honor, seated at the table closest to the podium platform.
She recognized some other creatures in the special guest area, though it was true she didn’t know many of them beyond their name; there was Prince Rutherford of the Yaks, Prince Haakim of Saddle Arabia, Duchess Ice Mirror of Maretonia, and several others, all with their own entourages that filled entire tables.
And at their own table, aside from Thorax and Ember, Starlight recognized Queen Novo of the Hippogriffs, seated next to two other ponies she was unfamiliar with.
“Oh, Starlight, right. This is Queen Novo,” Thorax said, having forgotten to make formal introductions.
“Starlight Glimmer?” Novo asked, having heard the name before.
“It’s an honor to meet you, your highness,” Starlight said, politely, before glancing over at the two stranger ponies.
One, a stallion, scoffed in distaste for having to make the effort to introduce himself. He was a broad stallion with flawless golden locks and a resting scowl.
“Prince Blueblood,” he said, introducing himself while nodding his head slightly.
“Oh yes, you’re the nephew of Princess Celestia,” Starlight confirmed, the name sparking an immediate recollection. Blueblood’s facetious smile quickly faded at the mention of his aunt.
"My greatest accomplishment." He scoffed and returned to his glass.
“You’ll have to excuse him, he’s had a miserable morning. I watched him drink more than his fair share yesterday. He’s barely got his wits. Well, whatever wits he had in the first place,” said the other pony seated at the table, a mare, with a soft purple wavy mane and a light purple coat, “I’m Lavender, by the way. Cadance is my cousin,” she explained, smiling while leaning over the table to shake Starlight’s hoof. Blueblood snarled at Lavender’s mockery, downing a quick sip of the champagne filling his glass.
“Very nice to meet you both,” Starlight said.
Starlight also noticed the group of ponies standing on the platform deck, cluttered together towards one side, all of them facing forwards.
In the very front, Starlight recognized only four of the ponies: foremostly was Mayor Mare, of whom Starlight had interacted with on numerous occasions during her residence in town. There was also Posh Paramount, a white-coated unicorn with a soft brunette mane, the Equestrian treasury secretary for the past five years. Starlight recalled a brief exchange they once had, during a visit to Canterlot accompanying Twilight on some royal princess business.
Right beside Paramount there was a pegasus stallion with a thinning navy-blue mane and a faint tan coat, whose name was Filibuster. Starlight knew him as the Speaker of the Equestrian Senate, also famous for his sense of humor. And, in contrast to the smirking pegasus’ seemingly jolly demeanor, standing beside him was a stallion with a brownish-gold coat and a jet black mane cut short, whose name was Bronze Beam. He was the Captain of the Royal Guard, a stern-faced, no-nonsense soldier who had little patience for things not going according to plan.
“Ugh. They could at least give us some free food if we have to sit here,” Trixie whined.
“It’ll go by fast,” Starlight said.
“These things never do,” Blueblood interjected, “They're all the same. Commemorative wastes of time."
“Oh, don’t be so sour, dear. I think you've enjoyed yourself. Perhaps even too much,” said Lavender, and Starlight began to wonder what about Blueblood could Lavender possibly find attractive, besides his looks.
“I hope the rest of you can keep an eye on him for me tonight,” Lavender said, addressing the entire table.
“Don’t treat me like a child,” Blueblood pouted.
“You won’t be there?” Thorax asked Lavender, slightly disappointed. Lavender paused to answer, slipping a sly sip of her glass first.
“I’m afraid I’ve already promised myself elsewhere. In Silkwood, actually. I do miss home terribly. This country life is quaint, certainly. But not for me,” Lavender said.
Before Thorax or anyone else could question Lavender further, the sound of a pony’s voice came over from the loudspeakers adorning the lampposts around the town square.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlecolts,” said the voice, belonging to Paramount, who was now standing on the platform deck behind the podium microphone. The mare was confident behind the microphone, despite her soft-spokenness and petite figure.
“It is my honor to speak to you all, as we gather together to celebrate, to rejoice, and to set our sights on a new future,” she said, a delightful, homely smile decorating her face, “Twilight Sparkle has been a true friend to us all, the hero that we depended on in the most dire of times... And looking forward, we know she will continue to accomplish great things as our sovereign...Now, for a word, let me introduce our first speaker, Ponyville’s very own Mayor Mare,” Paramount exclaimed, stepping out of the way for Paramount to take the podium.
As Mayor Mare took her spot behind the podium, Paramount shuffled back into the group on stage, landing right beside Filibuster.
“Well done,” he muttered, offering a small hoof-bump, which she reluctantly reciprocated.
“I wasn’t too sappy, was I?” Paramount asked.
“Perfect amount of sap,” Filibuster whispered, grinning.
Meanwhile, from nearby, Bronze Beam’s eyes were fixed on Paramount, burning neon green with envy. Every laugh Filibuster earned from her, was akin to a knife stuck through Bronze Beam’s own heart. For not just two months prior, he was set to be engaged with her, only to be turned down and left astray. And since then they had yet to speak to each other again. Still, it angered him to see her smile, to see another stallion inch towards the mare he had dreamed of marrying.
Oblivious to Bronze Beam’s hateful glare and Paramount’s sheepish snickering, down below the crowd was beginning to realize how tiresome these speeches would be.
For nearly an hour, Starlight and Trixie fought off the urge to fall asleep while speaker after speaker stepped up to present their speeches, all of them loosely identical in their vapid praise and shameless political pandering. Starlight assumed Twilight was present somewhere close to hear all of it, though the alicorn princess was still nowhere in sight.
It wasn’t until Filibuster’s speech, the last of the otherwise endless series, that Starlight’s interest was seized.
“I’ve seen a lot of wide-eyed kids with chips on their shoulders, thinking they’ll make it big and do great things. And only about a tenth of them end up having the stuff to go all the way. To make a good leader. To own their responsibilities. To deliver on their promises…” he said, while Starlight’s thoughts wandered to her own uncertainties of her leadership capabilities, “Twilight Sparkle is a pony who does all that. A pony who practices what she preaches, who puts others before herself. I’m proud to serve her from now on. And, speaking of, I suppose it’s about time we get to the pony of honor...Without further ado, for a final word, welcome Twilight Sparkle!” Filibuster said, excitedly stepping backwards and lifting his head up towards the sky.
Everypony’s attention was quickly seized by the emergence of a figure descending from the clouds above, her wings spread far apart, gliding towards the ground like an angel from the heavens.
Sunrays shone through the clouds in the sky, illuminating her in white light as she was welcomed by an outpour of cheers. Starlight even found herself drawn to clap her hooves together. Twilight, bejeweled in sunlight that was blindingly bright, glided down towards the podium stand, warmly gazing upon the crowd like a mother to her newborn.
“And you think I’m dramatic?” Trixie muttered to Starlight, who lightly smacked her arm in response.
Twilight Sparkle, outfitted with her golden crown of jewels and a necklace of priceless gems, landed on the platform deck to a thunderous roar of applause from the crowd.
Twilight approached the podium, pausing to wait for Filibuster to step out of the way. Twilight had to adjust the microphone to compensate for her height, all while getting a good look at the ponies who had all come out to see her.
“Your support means everything to me,” Twilight began, after first clearing her throat, “Princess Celestia protected Equestria for a thousand moons, and I am honored to carry her legacy. These past few years, all of the friends I've made in Ponyville have given me a life I never dreamed I'd have. And now I have a greater responsibility to all of you now, and I promise I will be the leader you need me to be. I’ll miss Ponyville, and all of your smiling faces, but I'll always be with you,” Twilight said, neglecting to read off of the longer speech that she had prepared, left in organized notecards on the podium table.
The crowd replied with an expected outcry of applause and cheers. Starlight, despite having thought she would maintain a brave face, found herself choking up a little over her emotions. The sound of Twilight’s voice put her at ease; yet it was a fleeting feeling.
Twilight humbly stepped down from the podium, and subsequently the crowd gradually began to return to their own festivities.
Starlight rose from her seat, as did the other special guests, most of them weary from a week of exhaustive celebration.
“I’ll see you tonight then?” Thorax asked the others in his vicinity, who all nodded their sleepy heads.
“I’ll be on the train soon, so I should say goodbye,” Lavender said, “Do take care of Blueblood...I hope to see you all again, someday,” she said, her voice hollow and grieving, as if addressing a deceased loved one. Starlight found this odd at first, but quickly got over it. Lavender left them all with a simple wave, before turning to face Blueblood. Without warning, she planted a passionate kiss on his cheek that lasted a good five seconds. Backing away, she gazed into his eyes with pity.
“Do forgive me, darling,” she said, sighing and turning away to slip away into the crowd.
Blueblood was mildly baffled, but too distracted by his prerogative to find a refill of champagne to give much thought to anything else.
“I’ll do my best to make it tonight,” Starlight said, hoping to appear as though she was not only responsible for herself, but also willing to connect with the others.
Thorax smiled, while Ember eyed her, skeptically.
"And we'll be glad to have you, Starlight," Thorax said.
Starlight nodded, and then also turned away to disappear into the crowd. Trixie had been forgotten in the process, now left with Thorax, Ember, and Novo.
“So...You guys want to dance or something?” Trixie asked, nervously.
“Sure,” Thorax said, smiling while he led the group towards the crowd.
Starlight, meanwhile, had to stand on the tips of her hooves to try and see above the crowd, with hopes of getting a chance to say a personal, true goodbye to Twilight before her eventual departure. Twilight was more or less hidden behind the jumbled crowd of ponies, though, forcing Starlight to try and slither her way through towards the platform deck.
However, to Starlight’s disappointment, by the time she had found herself at the platform deck, Twilight was already walking off with Rainbow Dash, Applejack, and her other dear friends, chatting and laughing while ponies in the crowd threw flowers before her hooves. White and red petals were left stomped into the dirt, crumpled and ruined in Twilight’s wake.
Starlight was left behind, sulking in her indignation.
Despite being surrounded by ponies as far as the eye could see, she had never felt so alone. The crowd's voices seemed to wither away, and she was left in some grey void, beneath the blinking stars once again. She was reliving mistakes in her mind, the ones she had thought she had grown past already. It may have been easier to force a brave face in front of the crowd, or Trixie, or in front of the mirror, but in those quieter moments, the voice in her head was left unimpeded, barking hard truths. What matter of direction was she left, in a world that functioned perfectly well before her and would continue to function perfectly well if she was to outright disappear. Ponyville did not need her. Not like it needed Twilight.
“Starlight Glimmer?”
Starlight snapped out of her brooding, lifting her head and turning to see none other than Mayor Mare, approaching her with a tender smile. The town square had essentially turned into one grand party at that point, and Starlight seemed to be standing right in the center of it all.
“Oh, hi, Ms. Mayor,” Starlight said, forcing herself to smile, as a social courtesy.
“Goodness, my dear, you look pale as a ghost. Are you alright?” Mayor Mare said, noticing Starlight’s unusual anxious expression.
“I’m fine,” Starlight said, with a faux cheerful conviction.
“As you say. Here, come speak to me away from all this noise,” Mayor Mare said, brushing off the crowd of ponies, who were descending into a maddened celebratory delirium.
Mayor Mare led a confused Starlight through the crowd towards the nearby storefront of Mr. Davenport’s furniture shop, at the corner of a long stretch of local businesses. The pale-grey maned mayor came to a stop behind a large brick pillar, draped in the shadows of the overhead storefront porch cover. Starlight quickly joined her, curious as to what the mayor wanted with her. Starlight had supposed she may have to involve herself in local affairs now that Twilight was gone.
“I know you must be overwhelmed, what with all these changes going on,” Mayor Mare said, consolingly. Starlight had to admit that she never truly had formed a strong friendship with Ponyville’s mayor, though perhaps with her new responsibilities a friendship would soon follow. Nevertheless, her concern was appreciated.
“It’s...just been a lot all at once,” Starlight said, “But I’m ready for anything you need from me, Ms. Mayor.”
“That’s very good to hear, Starlight,” Mayor Mare said, nodding, “You certainly have grand horseshoes to fill. Twilight was something of a...watchful eye around here. She was very good at keeping things organized, keeping ponies in check. The way that we’ve done things here, have been done that way for decades. What none of us want, Starlight, is a pony trying to change the status quo,” Mayor Mare said. She spoke slowly, and carefully, attempting to illustrate a point that was most likely to be kept implicit. Starlight turned stiff, baffled by the mayor’s unbecomingly sinister tone.
“I certainly won’t be going beyond my responsibilities, if that’s what you mean, Ms. Mayor,” Starlight said, gulping nervously. That seemed only to amuse her.
“They won’t trust you with anything. Ponies big and small. They know your face. They know what you are. Which is to say, not one of us,” Mayor Mare said, coldly, while Starlight’s mouth dropped slightly in shock, “I’ve spent years running this town. As I see fit. Twilight understood. Turned a blind eye when she needed to. And look at her now, the Sovereign of Equestria. You get far if you play by the rules, look no further. So what none of us want – me, Twilight, everypony else - is some bratty out-of-towner sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Starlight was at a loss for words, which was precisely the reaction Mayor Mare sought to take advantage of.
“You will do as Twilight and I tell you. I won’t let you ruin the system that’s taken decades for us to perfect. And Twilight, she definitely won’t. Do you understand what I’m saying to you?” Mayor Mare asked.
Starlight was speechless, resorting instead to nodding her head. She was clawing at herself to run away, or maybe even call for help, but she was too stunned to do anything but stand there.
“Splendid. I think we can all get along great, my dear,” Mayor Mare said, resuming her lighthearted demeanor. Trotting past a dumbfounded Starlight, Mayor Mare left her with a facetiously affectionate pat on the back, before disappearing around the corner of the shadowy pillar.
Starlight turned her head towards the town square party, and saw Mayor Mare had already disappeared from sight.
She was at a loss, though she wouldn’t have much time to think over what had just happened, before she was once again sidetracked.
“Starlight!” yelled Trixie, who had popped out of the crowd near where Starlight was standing.
“What's with that look on your face?” Trixie asked, smiling from ear-to-ear, dancing along to the music being blasted over the lamppost loudspeakers, "All these ponies are lucky the great and powerful Trixie is gracing them with her presence. Otherwise, this party would be like watching paint dry."
Starlight took a deep breath, deciding to put away the dread instilled in her by Mayor Mare until further notice.
“I'm glad one of us is having a good time,” Starlight said, taking little care to hide her downcast spirits.
Trixie came to a sudden stop, forcing herself to settle down.
“What did that haggy old mayor have to say?” Trixie said, hoping Starlight wasn’t in any trouble.
“I don’t know...She kind of freaked me out...Do you have any idea where Twilight is?” Starlight asked, her eyes fluttering with hope.
“Twilight? I saw her leave with her friends a few minutes ago. Long gone by now, probably,” Trixie said, with little sensitivity to Starlight’s crippling social anxiety.
“...Without me?” Starlight asked, her voice shrinking up.
"Well, they're all old friends, y'know.” Trixie said, before struggling to understand why she was defending Twilight and her friends, of whom she loathed, at all.
“Yeah, you’re right. I just wanted to say goodbye. A real goodbye,” Starlight said.
“Are you alright? You're shaking.” Trixie said, extending a concerned hoof towards Starlight’s quivering shoulder.
“It’s just...it feels like everypony is slipping away from me...Like I’m being left behind. Again,” Starlight said, lowering her head in embarrassment.
Trixie glanced around at the crowd, and quickly decided that everypony around them was too distracted to notice if she was to reveal a rarely seen sentimental side of herself, for the sake of comforting a friend.
“Starlight, I know what it feels like to be in a hole. But you gotta believe me, things get better. Life keeps going. I don't love you because Twilight took you on as her pupil. I love you because of who you are. You're gonna make mistakes, maybe worse than the ones you already made. So what? All you have to do is pretend they never happened and fix things whatever way you can. Look at me! I'd lost everything! And then I ended up meeting you, and now things aren’t that bad…We all fall into holes, Starlight. But if you're not willing to pull yourself out, who else will?" ” Trixie said, "Besides me, of course. But not everypony is so lucky to have the great and powerful Trixie as a friend."
Starlight lifted her head slightly, appreciating Trixie’s effort.
“No, you’re right, I know you’re right… I’m just scared of screwing everything up, I guess.”
“With me by your side, I’ll make sure to get all of the screw-ups out of the way for the both of us,” Trixie said, smirking. Starlight snickered, and began to feel at ease again, though her heart still felt wrapped in a spool of barbed wire.
“You should find Twilight, she probably hasn’t left yet,” Trixie said, offering some shimmering pearls of hope for Starlight to grasp taut.
Starlight hesitated, wondering whether Twilight had even thought to say a personal goodbye, before deciding Trixie was right.
“OK. I’ll see you later then?” Starlight asked.
“I’ll meet you outside Davenport’s. Let’s do a quarter to six,” Trixie suggested.
“You got it,” Starlight confirmed.
“And hey, no matter what happens, I’m here for you,” Trixie said, mirroring Starlight’s smile.
“What would I do without you?” Starlight asked, leaning in for a quick embrace.
“Hm. Probably end up dead or destitute by now. Better make sure to keep me around,” Trixie said, before shuffling back into the sweaty crowd.
Starlight was alone once more, though this time without much mind as to which way to head to locate Twilight.
She chose to head down Main Street eastwards, relatively aimlessly, uncertain of what answers she was in search of.
The crowd became increasingly scattered the farther she went, until the streets were virtually empty. Starlight’s wandering had taken her near the edge of town, where the first droplets of rain began to sprinkle down upon great hills of green grass that ran off towards the distant mountains.
Starlight finally came to a stop, when she realized her search was in vain, that Twilight had likely left Ponyville already, and she was now left without the guidance she was so desperately in need of. The falling frail raindrops masked a single tear running down her cheek, as she stared down at her own reflection in a puddle of muddy water.
Then, right beside her reflection in the puddle, something else appeared, beginning as a speck and growing to the size of a fully grown pony.
“There you are.”
Starlight raised her head and swiveled around, discovering none other than Twilight Sparkle, in all her regal glory, having just landed after an airborne descent.
“Hey, Twilight,” Starlight said, sheepishly lowering her head as if to pay her respects to royalty.
“I'm sorry I missed you earlier,” Twilight said, earnestly, afraid that she had hurt Starlight in some way, “You know I wouldn't leavewithout saying goodbye."
“So...you’re not going to the afterparty?” Starlight asked, skeptically.
Twilight paused and her eyes widened, surprised with the unexpected inquiry. She hesitated to find the words for a response.
“Oh, that. Starlight, that’s just a little thing. Dumb political stuff mostly. I’ll probably have Spike show up for me or something. I’m leaving pretty soon, y'know,” Twilight said, fumbling over her words, “I don’t think you should go. It's really not a big deal. I'd much rather have you go start talking with Mayor Mare about the new responsibilities you'll be having around here, anyways.”
“Yeah...I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that...I know what you're gonna say, but I mean it, Twilight. I don’t know if I'm the best choice.” Starlight said, hesitating to reveal what Mayor Mare had said to her.
Twilight promptly sighed, having expected Starlight to say something along those lines.
"When I first took you in," Twilight said, "Everypony I spoke to told me not to give you a chance. Celestia, Cadance, Mayor Mare, they thought it was a mistake. Too dangerous, they said. You'd be better off in Tartarus, or frozen in stone, that's what some ponies said. Equestria is full of ponies who think they know better. Not so many can look at themselves and see the wrong that they've done. I chose you because you could, Starlight. I need ponies I can trust. There are still enemies out there. There are still creatures who want to see Equestria turned to rubble. I need you to do this. No other."
"You're my princess. I'll do as you say. But...you put too much trust in me, Twilight," Starlight said, "I’m not you. And I’ll never be you,” Starlight said, lowering her head.
“Starlight...You don’t need to be me to do a good job. You have to be you. Everypony will come around to you, I promise.” Twilight asked, smiling, "I love you, Starlight. And I know what I'm asking is going to be a challenge, but it's one I know you can handle. And you'll have Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow, and Pinkie all here to help you, too. And Trixie. too, I suppose. Do you trust me, Starlight?"
“...More than I do myself,” Starlight replied, breaking into a smile too.
“Please believe me when I say that everypony in town will be rooting for you in no time…” Twilight said, "Some ponies may take time to get used to it, but they'll be on your side soon enough. I've always seen the good in you, Starlight. Soon everypony will."
"I just....I don't know if I can do this."
"You can," Twilight smiled, "There's nopony I trust more for the job."
Starlight sighed again, supposing she was too prone to give in to her anxiety.
“Thanks, Twilight...How am I ever gonna get by without you?” Starlight asked, laughing, though her concern was genuine.
“You’ll get by just fine, Starlight,” Twilight said, her eyes subtly glancing downwards, and then to the left.
“OK. I really should go. I’ll check in with you as soon as I can, alright?” Twilight said, awkwardly inching her way backwards.
“Thanks again, Twilight, good luck,” Starlight said, trotting towards Twilight and embracing her tightly. Twilight held her for a moment and shut her eyes, while Starlight refused to let go. Starlight held her as long as she could, burying her cheek against Twilight's mane, and savoring each second.
“Take care of yourself,” Twilight said, pulling away.
“You too,” Starlight replied, softly.
Twilight gave one last nod as a final send-off, before taking flight once more.
And, Starlight realized, as Twilight ascended towards the rainclouds, and eventually became nothing more than a speck in the sky, that a door had been closed. Twilight was gone.
Starlight’s eyes gently closed, her thoughts centering around only her breathing.
Hours later, when the sun sank in the sky and the storm clouds became scattered along the red horizon, Ponyville had finally calmed itself. The partying crowd was now dwindling in the streets. After a week of celebration, the festivities had finally come to a close.
But that was not the case for everypony.
In the center of a dirt road heading towards the north end of town, Posh Paramount was trotting cautiously beneath the street lamps.
She would much rather have been in bed right then, as the past week had more or less wiped her out. Yet, she couldn’t let her friends down, for one final summoning before she was to return to Canterlot on the train tomorrow morning.
She spotted the Ponyville town hall, the location of the afterparty Filibuster had told her of at the farewell ceremony earlier that day.
She reached into her purse to confirm she had arrived on time.
7 o’clock exact.
She approached the front door of the building, and reached for the handle. It was unlocked, allowing her to open it wide, to reveal the overwhelming light from inside.
“Oh, Parie, you’re here,” said the voice of Filibuster, whose broad-shouldered figure could be made out once Paramount’s eyes adjusted to the desk lamp light inside.
Paramount entered the lobby, where Filibuster was waiting, alone by the front desk made of mahogany wood. The lights were all on, but to Paramount’s surprise nopony else was there.
“What’s going on? Where is everypony?” Paramount asked, confused. She still had only a vague idea of what the purpose of this afterparty was, and she was insistent on having her wits about her.
“They’re all over in there,” Filibuster said, pointing with his head behind him towards another room, “I was just waiting for you.”
Paramount relaxed, and her smile returned, joining him in walking towards the previously referenced room. She did take comfort in knowing she had a friend like Filibuster to stick by her.
"The town's sound asleep," Filibuster said, "If there was any cause for raising alarms, meeting like this."
"We'll still be noticed," Paramount replied, softly, "Whatever business there is, it had best be quick. We could have been halfway to Canterlot by now."
Filibuster took the courtesy of opening the door for Paramount, revealing a relatively empty meeting room filled with an array of other creatures.
There was Thorax, and Empress Ember, talking with each other in the corner. Near the window was Bronze Beam by his lonesome, and in the middle of the room were Prince Blueblood and Queen Novo, who were trying their best to get along.
“Oh, wonderful, Ms. Paramount, you’re here,” said Novo, excitedly approaching Paramount for a hospitable embrace, “Prince Rutherford was supposed to arrive too, but I’m afraid he’s fallen ill.”
“That’s too bad, I hope he’s alright,” Paramount said.
“The southern heat never agrees with him," Bronze Beam growled from the other side of the room. Paramount shot the stallion a resentful glance.
Though she did once care for him deeply, his temper proved too much for her to bear; now he was like a stranger to her almost, and reconciliation between the two would remain impossible, despite them both still harboring feelings for the other, buried deep somewhere.
“Well, everyone, now that I think we’re all here, I suppose somepony ought to tell us what this is all about,” Filibuster said, grabbing everyone’s attention with his booming voice. Paramount joined the group in the middle, while Filibuster waited for someone to reveal themselves as the organizer of the affair.
Silence was his only answer.
“Come on now, there’s no point in keeping quiet any longer. We’re all here!” Filibuster said.
“I thought you set this all up, Fil,” Bronze Beam said.
“Then you thought wrong. I’d much rather be on the train back home right about now, in fact. I suspected the Empress,” Filibuster said, turning everyone’s attention to Ember.
Ember and Bronze Beam were the first to begin to suspect they might be in danger, while the others latched onto some desperate explanation for how they had come to be gathered together in one place.
But before any of them could posit anymore ideas, the door flew open once again. All eyes swiveled towards the new arrival, hoping this was all the work of some elaborate surprise party planner.
The lights in the lobby had been turned off, masking the figure standing in the doorway in shadows.
“Hello?” asked Novo, her voice quivering slightly. She was no fan of whatever games this pony was playing.
Then a light grew out of the darkness, a glowing, twisted mess of furious purple energy, contorting in terrifying rhythms around a pointed horn.
The figure darted out from the shadows, soaring through the air directly towards the group of unsuspecting creatures.
Paramount screamed in fright, at the blurry charge heading straight for her. Though before she could be struck, Bronze Beam tackled her to the ground, both of them evading the impact of their attacker.
Bronze Beam jumped back to his hooves, reaching down to help Paramount up while staring down their attacker with utter shock.
“Princess?” Thorax exclaimed, thrown off guard.
There was Twilight Sparkle, standing with her horn raging and her wings spread, a menacing silence painted on her face.
As soon as Bronze Beam finished helping Paramount up to her hooves, his horn began to glow, as did Blueblood’s. The prince knew one or two offensive spells for such an occasion, though he was still deathly afraid of having to use any of them.
“Princess, what are-” began Bronze Beam, though before he could finish his inquiry, he fell victim to a pummeling blast of white-hot fire, melting the flesh from his face and throwing his bulky build across the room, landing in a devastating heap in the corner. A trail of blood was left on the wall, Bronze Beam's body having been folded in half upon impact.
“Bronze!” cried Paramount, Ember, and Thorax simultaneously. Twilight presented no expression following the unrestrained act of violence, while the others struggled to comprehend the grotesque savagery they had just witnessed.
Ember was the first to react, her warrior instincts activating instantaneously; she dove straight for Twilight, clawing across her face with an outstretched arm. In quick succession, she produced a grand breath of fire aimed towards Twilight’s chest.
Twilight crafted a magical shield of purple energy to withstand the fire, though the deflection left her vulnerable to an attack from Thorax from behind; ramming her in the side in an attempt to disorient her. Thorax slammed his hoof across Twilight’s face, knocking her off-center.
Twilight reconfigured herself without delay, lifting a nearby table with her magic and tossing it across the room into Ember, slamming both the table and her against the wall. The table burst into wooden scraps upon impact, splintery fragments flying through the air past the others. Twilight quickly turned her attention to Paramount, who had raised her glowing-horn in self-defense.
“Princess!” Paramount warned, hesitating before launching any kind of attack.
Twilight gave no response, leaving Paramount with no choice but to try and tranquilize her with a stun-shot. The magical blast, however, did little use to even challenge Twilight’s power.
Twilight reflected Paramount’s blast up towards the ceiling, before firing another blast of her own. Paramount was torn apart upon receiving the blast, crying out in agony before two legs and half of her head fell to one side of the floor, and the rest to the other. Twilight then magically lifted the steaming, bloody mess of fried organs and blackened skin that used to be Paramount, and tossed the remains over towards the others. Filibuster held off from puking his brains out in revulsion. He could make out what was probably her face beneath the bloody mess, and then sought vengeance more than anything else.
“How could you do this?!” Filibuster cried, spreading his wings and reaching towards the ground for one of the sharp pieces of wood left over from the smashed table.
“Wait, don’t!” Thorax cried, recognizing the futility of their attempts.
Filibuster was so consumed with rage over Paramount and Bronze Beam’s deaths, however, that he couldn’t stop himself from burning through the air towards Twilight.
Twilight though was indeed taken by surprise by Filibuster’s attack, falling victim to a puncture of his makeshift wooden spear into her side. Twilight grunted in pain, grabbing Filibuster by his left wing with her hoof and flinging him across the room.
She spotted Novo rushing for the opened door, and wasted no time launching yet another strike, slicing open the hippogriff’s head all the way across, spraying blood, brains, and teeth all over the floor.
Blueblood, who had been too consumed by fear to take action as of yet, had realized it was only a matter of time before Twilight’s warpath expanded upon himself. He charged up his horn, knowledgeable of a few offensive spells for just an occasion as this.
The prince’s light-blue beam of magic was sleek, precise, and forceful, pushing Twilight slightly backwards as she struggled to magically shield herself.
Thorax, meanwhile, took to helping Ember back to her feet.
“She must be under some sort of trance,” Thorax suggested, his voice wavering while Blueblood continued to keep Twilight at bay.
Ember glared at him, as if he should have known better.
“It doesn’t matter,” Ember said, firmly, regaining her breath.
Filibuster had also recovered, picking himself up and sauntering towards Blueblood, preparing to re-engage.
Twilight eventually forcibly broke against Blueblood’s attack, and darted towards him with the plausible intention of murder; however before she could reach him, Filibuster again caught her by surprise, swinging another sharp-edged wooden board across her chest, tearing some flesh and purple fur right off.
Twilight fell off balance, just in time to receive a series of wailing punches from Thorax and Ember, the former of whom was practically stomping Twilight’s face into pulp. Thorax had intended to crush her skull beneath his hooves, or at the very least knock her unconscious, but the alicorn princess was remarkably durable.
Twilight spread her wings and pushed upwards, now hovering in the air. Ember bellowed out a breath of fire, scorching the air and much of Twilight’s side.
The feathers on Twilight’s left wing eventually were burned and blackened to such an extent that Twilight could no longer fly straight, forcing herself to descend back to the ground.
Twilight cast another magical shield, protecting against Ember’s fiery assault. Twilight narrowed her eyes towards Blueblood, who was preparing another attack. She swung her shield towards Thorax and Ember, sending them flying backwards.
Before Blueblood could manifest anything, Twilight finalized her attack, sending a raging blast of magic tearing through his head; a messy cloud of red exploding out into the air.
Filibuster, still vengeful, made another dive towards Twilight, this time attempting to stick his sharp wooden plank in her neck. Twilight was prepared, however, grabbing Filibuster by the wing once again, this time snapping the tendons backwards. Filibuster screamed in pain while Twilight tightened her grasp. She then held him up to his head and slammed it down towards the floor, cracking the pegasus’ skull like an egg, spraying blood and bone all across the floor boards.
Thorax and Ember recovered once again, and were both horrified to see what had become of the others.
“At least let’s not make it easy for her,” Ember said, gritting her teeth as she realized their chances of survival were slim. Thorax nodded solemnly, still struggling to make sense of what was happening.
Ember roared in anger, while Thorax followed her charge towards Twilight.
Twilight blasted Thorax through the chest before either of them could reach her. He fell to his hooves, still alive, gasping for breath. He could feel around the hole in his chest, and the lights of the room began to blur.
Ember, however, proved to be more of a challenge for Twilight. Deflecting two more lunging breaths of fire, Twilight attempted to slice Ember in half, though Ember was agile, dodging the attack and charging once more.
Ember grabbed Twilight around the neck, digging her claws in deep, preparing to breathe a blast of fire straight into Twilight’s face.
Twilight’s eyes were like whirlpools of death; in contrast Ember’s eyes were beginning to fill with tears as her throat ruptured with flame.
But before she could produce her finishing blow, Twilight’s horn snapped back to attention, illuminating a terrifying purple.
Ember wasn’t even aware of it, the moment when Twilight’s magical blast expanded from inside her skull, tearing her head apart in an eruption of burning red agony.
Ember’s body fell to the ground, steaming from its bloody stump of a neck.
Twilight took a deep breath, physically exhausted from the numerous injuries she had sustained during the relatively brief battle.
Her attention was caught by Thorax, who was still on his knees, coughing softly in pain. His eyes rose up to meet hers, and he had no words for her.
Twilight’s eyes flickered, and she may have even hesitated. Thorax kept his head held up in continued defiance.
Twilight granted him a relatively merciful death, her horn glowing for only two seconds before Thorax’s head split apart at the seams, spraying the surrounding walls.
Twilight now stood the tallest in a room that reeked of death; nearly everything was covered in blood. Twilight wiped some ash from her face, the residue of Ember’s failed efforts, and caught her breath, mildly worn out from a battle that cost her some minor injuries.
She turned and sauntered out of the room, shutting the door behind her gracefully.
“This better be worth it.”
Starlight was scurrying through the lamplit streets of Ponyville, practically jogging while Trixie struggled to keep up the pace.
“We’re already late,” Starlight muttered, glancing at a street lamp clock on the other side of the street.
7:08 p.m. “Starlight, do we seriously have to go to this?” Trixie whined, exhausted after a long day of partying.
“It’s important. I have responsibilities now, remember?” Starlight reminded.
“But you said Twilight said you didn’t have to go,” Trixie countered.
“I know, and I’m going anyway. This is important,” Starlight said, unwilling to miss out on what could help her reputation with the rest of Equestria’s leaders, "If she wants me to honor my responsibilities, then this will make a good start."
“Ok. But why do I have to come?” Trixie asked.
Starlight came to a stop, right in front of their destination, Ponyville’s town hall, to turn around and leave Trixie with an unimpressed look.
“You said you would be there for me. Do you really have anything better to do?” Starlight asked.
"There's an X-Files marathon tonight, but besides that, I guess not."
“Right, now let’s go,” Starlight said, confidently approaching the front double doors of the town hall.
But, to her surprise, the handles refused to budge. She tried three more times, shaking the firmly stuck door handles to no avail.
Before Starlight could answer, a shrill scream belonging to a mare caught both ponies by surprise.
“What was that?” Starlight asked.
Trixie unconsciously began backing away from the doors, beginning to suspect that all was not as it seemed.
“Starlight, let’s get out of here,” Trixie said, nervously.
“Somepony might be in trouble...Let’s try the back,” Starlight insisted.
Before Trixie could try to argue otherwise, Starlight had already taken off around the edge of the town hall building, towards an alleyway.
Trixie sighed, before rushing to catch up to Starlight.
Heading down the alleyway, neither Starlight nor Trixie were certain of what they would find inside the building.
“Wait, look, there’s a window,” Trixie said, pointing ahead at a soft yellow light illuminating from a small window in the side of the building.
Starlight took the lead, ushering Trixie to stay behind her.
Starlight crept towards the window along the edge of the wall, and with every step she took her fears doubled. Grunts, groans, and crashing sounds bellowed out from behind the wall, and drew louder the closer Starlight and Trixie inched towards the window.
Starlight peeked her head around the window, cautiously, and was immediately distressed to find half of the window glass was stained with crimson blood. Trixie stuck her head beneath Starlight’s, the two of them both letting their jaws drop as they absorbed the chaos unfolding inside.
They saw what was left of Prince Blueblood, Filibuster, Paramount, and Novo, a gorey mess of blood and body parts left strewn across the polished wooden floorboards.
But beyond that, they saw Ember and Thorax too, battling a foe drenched in other creatures’ blood, her eyes cold and merciless.
“That...That can’t-...,” Starlight muttered, struggling to make sense of Twilight Sparkle ruthlessly attacking Ember and Thorax, who seemed equally as terrified as betrayed.
Before Starlight could even consider intervening, Ember was left a smoking heap of rot on the floor, and Thorax had found himself without his head.
Neither Starlight nor Trixie could quite comprehend the horrifying display of savagery on the other side of the glass. Avoiding sticking their heads out in front of the window for too long, Trixie yanked Starlight backwards right before Twilight’s head swiveled around to see if anypony was outside.
Starlight was hyperventilating and her whole body was trembling, unable to decipher if she was dreaming some terrible nightmare or not.
“Starlight! Starlight!” Trixie whispered, grabbing a hold of Starlight to calm her and keep her still.
“They’re-they’re dead!” Starlight said, breaking into tears uncontrollably.
“Hey, hey, keep your voice down!” Trixie said, though she too was in a state of mental distress.
“We have to do something...Twilight! What was that? That couldn’t have been her! It was a changeling, or some apparition, or-or something…” Starlight stammered.
“A changeling couldn’t do something like that,” Trixie whispered, too terrified to raise her voice any louder.
“She told me to stay away…” Starlight said, realizing the undesirable truth, “We weren’t supposed to be here. We weren’t supposed to see this…”
“And maybe that was for the best...I-I think we should just keep our mouths shut...The last thing I want is Twilightpaying me a visit at night,” Trixie said.
Starlight glanced at her.
“No. We have to do something, Trixie. We have to tell somepony about this,” Starlight said.
Trixie shook her head.
"Maybe she had a good reason," Trixie supposed, "Maybe things will work themselves out without us having to make it our business. Maybe-"
"We saw what we saw," Starlight said, "If that was really her, Trixie..."
Starlight could not even begin to make sense of it, not before she felt the compulsion to move her hooves.
“C'mon,” Starlight said, storming off.
Trixie was sweating bullets, and had a sinking feeling that Starlight wasn’t thinking straight, still she tagged along; she was far too terrified to leave Starlight’s side.
Starlight and Trixie returned to the streets, and now the sun had set completely. The night sky was pitch black, the Ponyville street lamps now seemingly the only source of light in the whole world.
Every step forward, both Starlight and Trixie were plagued by a relentless paranoia, glancing in every direction in case of a surprise attack of some kind.
“Starlight, maybe we should wait a little before we do this,” Trixie said, nervously.
“If she saw us, it’s only a matter of time before we’re next...We have to do this now. I don’t know whether that was really Twilight or not, but somepony is responsible for this, and something needs to be done. Thorax...Ember...they were my friends. Your friends too, Trixie,” Starlight said.
Trixie shook her head, still wary of pushing their luck any further.
“There’s the mayor’s house,” Starlight said, trotting up towards a house on the corner of Main Street, less than half a mile from the town hall.
“Let me do the talking,” Starlight said, remembering how intense Mayor Mare can become.
Starlight approached the front door, ringing the doorbell and planting a few gentle knocks.
After a brief spout of nervous waiting, the door swung open, though it wasn’t Mayor Mare who was to greet them.
There was a stallion dressed in a suit, his head perched downwards to stare down Starlight, who looked completely out of sorts.
“Miss Glimmer," the stallion said, and he sounded surprised, "The mayor is not welcoming visitors at this hour. I apologize."
“Wait, please, this is important. I need to talk with her,” Starlight said, right before the stallion was to close the door.
“I’m sorry, but that is impossible,” the stallion said, attempting to close the door again.
Starlight, however, had progressed past the point of plain civility, this time holding the door open with her magic, flinging it wide open. The stallion security guard instinctively reached for his belt-bound baton, only to be shoved out of the way by a blue magical aura, also courtesy of Starlight.
Starlight stormed straight inside, Trixie following close behind.
Starlight was relieved to find Mayor Mare sitting on her couch in her living room, surrounded by three other security guards, all right next to the front door.
“Starlight Glimmer,” Mayor Mare began, coldly. She seemed grieved to have been disturbed.
“Ms. Mayor, I’m sorry for barging in, I really am, but I need to speak with you, it’s urgent,” Starlight said.
“Urgent? At this hour? Very well then. I hope you’re not wasting my time,” Mayor Mare said.
“The afterparty, Ms. Mayor, I...Me and Trixie just saw, they’ve all been killed! All of them!” Starlight exclaimed, struggling to find the words.
Mayor Mare stared at her, baffled, and slowly rose from her seat.
“What?” Mayor Mare asked. She smiled for a moment, for what had to be disbelief.
“We saw through the window. In the town hall!" Starlight exclaimed, "They’re there now, in pieces! They were set up to be killed! I would’ve been right beside them, if I hadn’t been late!”
Mayor Mare studied Starlight's face, and glanced around at her guards.
“That is quite a claim you’re making, Starlight. Murder, in Ponyville? It’s unheard of. A meeting? How did this come about?” Mayor Mare asked.
“It-it was the afterparty. Thorax told me about it just today, and-and he was told by...he was told by you,” Starlight said.
Right as Starlight began backing away in terror, a new figure revealed herself from the adjacent kitchen room.
“No…” Starlight muttered, taking a step backwards.
Standing right before her was Twilight Sparkle, and the two reluctantly met each other’s gaze.
The alicorn princess was covered in burns, blood, and bruises, and yet still she seemed invulnerable to all the world could throw at her. Her head was held high, and her steely eyes were steady and unflinching.
“I thought I told you not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Mayor Mare said, laughing to herself, shaking her head at Starlight’s expense.
“Starlight?…” Trixie said, nervously backing towards the opened front door, only to find it being blocked off by one of the security guards.
“Twilight!" Starlight exclaimed, fighting tears, "Tell me this is a prank! Tell me they’re all still alright!”
Twilight gave no reply. She glanced to Mayor Mare, who almost seemed to take delight in the horror plain on Starlight's face.
“It really is a shame, Starlight," Mayor Mare said, "You had so much potential."
She took a step forward.
“Get back,” Starlight warned. Despite her threat, her defensive reflexes were hindered in large part to her shock-induced delirium, her mind unable to make sense of what was happening to her.
“Guards,” Mayor Mare roared.
Without delay, Starlight’s horn glowed blue. But she was not quick enough, before one of the guards tackled her from behind, effortlessly fastening a metal ring around Starlight’s horn as she flailed about beneath his firm grip.
Starlight instinctively tried casting a spell, only to be met by an agonizing headache, as her horn suffocated underneath its metal ring prison. Starlight screamed in pain and collapsed back down to the floor, providing the guards with an opportunity to grab a hold of her.
Starlight resisted with all her strength, as she was subjected to a barrage of merciless kicks by the surrounding guards.
“Twilight!” Starlight screeched, fighting back with all her strength as tears sprang out from her eyes. She was attempting to claw her way towards Twilight, who remained unmoving. “Twilight! Don’t!”
As Starlight was brutally beaten into submission, she was left with the additional injury of watching as Twilight turned her back and trotted off around a corner of the house. Trixie, however, put up little resistance, terrified of being killed in the same vein as the ill-fated afterparty guests.
Starlight fought with everything she could muster, but her advantage was lost, and soon enough the guards had managed to lock her hooves together in ice-cold metal shackles, immobilizing her.
Trixie, who had been screaming for help in the corner for the duration of Starlight’s attempted defiance, was restrained in a similar fashion to Starlight, who was furiously grunting and buckling in her cuffs, to no avail.
“See to it that they are dealt with appropriately,” Mayor Mare ordered, smirking as Starlight’s eyes burned with anger, “We have ways of handling ponies like you.”
The guards, without question, grabbed onto both Trixie and Starlight, and dragged them out the open front door into the streets.
Starlight’s face was scuffed along the dirt road as the guards dragged her along by her bound hind legs.
The guards stopped once they reached the rear side of a parked carriage in the street. The carriage was solid grey, and rather unassuming.
Before either Starlight or Trixie could prepare themselves, they were both lifted up into the air and thrown into the opened trunk of the carriage, as if they were both pieces of luggage.
Starlight could hear the guards snickering to each other, getting one last glimpse of the night sky behind them before the trunk door slammed shut, and her world turned to darkness.
In a matter of minutes, Starlight could feel the carriage spring to life, taking motion by a set of pull-horses in the front.
And so the carriage took off from Ponyville, and the town slept as if it were any other night. There was peace in the cool summer wind, felt not by all but by most.
The carriage flew over the hills towards the dark of night, disappearing into the shadows of beyond. But there was a light that persisted, inside Starlight herself, and she understood only one thing: she could not be done away with so easily.
Riding the road to her grave, fortune had blessed her with some rest.
Temporarily, at least.
Starlight awoke suddenly as the carriage ran over a pothole, her entire body bouncing up and down upon the hard metal bench she was chained to.
For last she could remember, Starlight had been thrown into the trunk of a carriage, to be carried off to some unknown destination. Yet now she found herself in a completely different vehicle, a larger carriage whose interior consisted only of cold grey steel walls and aluminum benches.
Chains rattled against her metal seat, running through a small ring welded to the edge of the bench, and back up through two metal cuffs locked around her two front hooves. She was stuck in place on the bench, her chains locked on tight around her hooves and waist. Escape was virtually impossible, as she struggled to no avail.
She could do little more than slide back and forth to relieve the uncomfortable pressure of her restraints, and she could feel the horrible metallic chill of the magic inhibitor ring locked over her horn. She was unable to cast any spells, and could barely move her limbs apart.
She feared for what had become of Trixie, who was nowhere to be seen. She could very well be dead, right alongside Ember and Thorax and the rest of them. She shut her eyes and gritted her teeth, trying to forget the red scene, trying to burn the memory away somehow.
Starlight wasn’t alone in the carriage, however. There was a pony dressed in a police uniform, with a bony, rigid jaw and reptilian eyes. He sat in the opposite corner, burying his nose in a magazine and ignoring Starlight completely.
Her eyes strained to catch sight of two small windows in the rear doors of the carriage, watching on as faint streams of white light flooded in across the ice-cold steel floor. Beyond the metal bars that clung over those windows was the outside world, a world that was now far out of reach, as the carriage dragged her far away from any resemblance of familiarity.
But greater than her growing dread for wherever she was heading, Starlight was consumed with rage, a rotten, trembling fury for all those ill-spent years of dedication to what had to be crafty lies, for believing in some moral predication that no longer bore substance. She found herself a fool.
It couldn't have been her.
It couldn't be real.
It could have been a changeling, or some dark magic at work. But her heart knew better. Every lesson, every piece of guidance, every word of encouragement, they could very well all be lies. The Twilight Sparkle she had built her new life upon was no more than a front for some darker treachery. But why now, Starlight wondered, why give it all away, as soon as Twilight had everything she wanted?
She assumed two possibilities - one, that Twilight had been compelled to take such drastic actions by some grave threat to Equestria, or two, Twilight had lost her mind entirely, succumbed to a great evil just as she was poised to lead Equestria into the future. Perhaps some manner of both, Starlight thought. Ember and Thorax were dear friends of Twilight's, but they themselves were not of Equestria. They might not have had Equestria's interests in their hearts, on the grounds of some political venture. No, she thought, the same could not be said for Posh and Filibuster and Blueblood.
We've been putting a lot of plans together. We'd love to fill you in about everything, that's what Thorax told her. Their secrets would die with them, she figured, which is precisely what Twilight intended. There was nothing she could do, nopony she could save. They were gone.
Now she was en route to Celestia-knows-where, discarded as if her life was merely an inconvenience. Starlight clenched her teeth, and fidgeted in her restraints. Twilight would endure through this, she thought. Twilight would never have made such a spectacle of brutality without ensuring she would escape the ensuing consequences. Starlight supposed that's all she was now, a consequence.
There was no point in plotting her revenge. Not only for the chains, but for the cracks that had been sewn through her very mind. The world she had known was cast in shadow, and she wondered perhaps that it had been begotten that way, that she had been blind to the true cruelty of the world until now, until the final push past all rails of reason.
Interrupting Starlight’s tribulations, the carriage squealed to a sudden halt, its wheels crunching over some thick mounds of ice and snow left astray on the gravel road.
Starlight very nearly lost her balance, having nothing to brace herself as she swayed forward with the carriage as it came to a complete stop.
The bony-jawed guard sighed and rose to his hooves, walking towards a frazzled Starlight.
Whatever courage Starlight had planned to muster for an impulsive escape, it quickly fell flat, as soon as the bony-jawed guard marched up to her.
The guard unfastened the chain from the bench ring and attached it to her hind leg cuffs, freeing her from the bench, but restricting her movement once again.
Pulling her up to her hooves, the guard dragged Starlight towards the rear exit doors, which were promptly opened from the outside.
White light blinded both the guard and Starlight for a moment, and they both required a solid few seconds to adjust.
In every direction, there was nothing but snow and grey skies for as far as the eye could see. Starlight's mind faltered at the sight of such barrenness; it was as though she had entered some deathly void not of this world at all. The air was thin and brittle, and Starlight felt her body temperature drop within seconds of exiting the carriage.
“Where am I?” Starlight muttered, horrified as hope drained out from within her. There was no color, no life, nothing but blinding white and somber, agonizing grey.
The bony-jawed guard provided no answer nor relief, tossing a disoriented Starlight below off the carriage edge.
She was caught by the driver and the passenger, two police ponies dressed in warm coats and furs to protect against the blistering cold.
Starlight was shivering within mere moments, as she was wrestled into a firm grip by the driver and passenger.
The guard spoke something to the driver, though the words were lost on Starlight, who felt a painful ringing in her ears and a numbing mania developing in her head.
She was dragged around the police transport carriage towards the front, passing the rows of grim-faced stallions who had pulled the carriage all this way.
Ahead of her was a large facility, guarded by triple fences of barbed wire, stone battlements, moats of freezing-cold water, and police ponies numbering a few hundred. The complex was vast, built into the side of a mountain range, spanning half a mile along its base. It rose up a good four stories, its gloomy prison bars mocking Starlight from above; for this would be her new home.
“Move,” scoffed one of the guards pulling her towards the front gate of the facility. Starlight hadn’t realized she had been dragging her hooves, subconsciously having wanted to go anywhere but straight for the imposing drear of the facility ahead.
“Is this Tartarus?” Starlight asked, her voice choked and miniscule, as terror overcame her.
The guards exchanged a look and shared a laugh.
“No. Much worse,” one of the guards replied.
Approaching the front gate, one of the guards raised a hoof in the air, attempting to flag down somepony up above on the facility battlements.
In a matter of moments, a loud buzzing sound shook Starlight alert, signaling that the gates were opened.
The guards, sniffling and catching their breath in the cold, continued dragging a begrudged Starlight forward, shoving past the large front gates to enter inside.
Past the gates was a large courtyard, filled with ponies in orange jumpsuits trying their hardest not to freeze to death.
Starlight saw some inmate ponies keeled over in the snow, and some who appeared to not be moving at all, and she wondered what kind of mad hell she had been thrust into.
In the courtyard, there were ponies exercising, playing a variety of games, and standing together in packs for warmth. And among them too were corpses caked in ice, their skin blue and their eyes greyed out. It seemed the living perhaps envied the dead, as far as Starlight could tell.
Starlight was dragged through the middle aisle of the courtyard, which was fenced off from where the prisoners were. Some drew towards the fence to get a good look at the new fresh meat, though Starlight paid them no notice.
There was a profound silence resting over the facility, despite the noise of the rowdy prisoners and the sounds of machinery bellowing out from the inner hovels of the complex. Starlight watched the black smoke from the factory exhaust pipes unfurl into the air, and was not surprised there was an extra dour toil to dampen spirits.
The fenced-off center path was long and narrow, and led straight towards the main entrypoint for the proper complex building.
Starlight was brought to the front entrance of the building, where she was finally allowed a rest from the long walk.
“This isn’t right, what you’re doing,” Starlight managed to say, while catching her breath.
The duo of guards shared an unimpressed look, while one proceeded to input a numerical code into the doorside keypad.
"Shut your mouth," said the one bent down by the keypad code.
"Easy to act tough when I'm in irons," Starlight growled.
“You’ll have plenty of time to chirp away, once you're caged, little bird. Spare the two of us at least,” said the one guard with nothing to do but wait.
Starlight scoffed.
“Why am I still alive?” Starlight inquired.
“Because you're not worth the trouble to snip that pretty neck of yours," answered the other guard, who was struggling to remember the last two digits of the keypad code.
“The murders, what are ponies saying?" Starlight stammered, having figured that Twilight would take advantage of Starlight’s situation to blame all of those ghastly deaths on her, and leave her as a hapless scapegoat locked away for life.
“What?” the idle guard repeated, bewildered.
“Ignore her,” the other guard muttered, followed by a string of curses in response to his shortcomings with the keypad code mystery.
They don't know anything about what happened. Perhaps it was better that way.
Starlight took a few steps backwards into the snow, as far as her chain leash would allow, to take in the tremendous scope of the complex exterior. Her eyes searched the thick stone walls for any vulnerable points to exploit.
“What’s she doing now?” asked the idle guard. The other swiveled around to inspect, before drawing a quick conclusion.
“She’s looking to escape, she is. Go figure. You only just got here, love, wait until you see what’s inside,” he said, laughing to himself and returning to the keypad.
“This place is a vault. Nopony in Equestria even knows about it except a few. We’re in the absolute middle of nowhere. And nopony’s coming to help you out, I'm afraid,” he continued, snickering at Starlight’s expense.
Starlight scowled in dismay, but still kept her mouth shut. She dreaded that the guard was telling the truth, that this void of snow, this frozen wasteland of misery, truly had no escape.
“There we go,” said the guard by the door, after finally getting the code right.
The front entrance door buzzed open, and Starlight was quickly escorted inside.
With her first few steps inside, the scent of fire and oily machinery throttled Starlight by the throat without mercy. The air was wet with musty tears and stunk of rot, and the cries and howls of imprisoned souls rang out and echoed between the winding metal bars.
She was dragged through the labyrinth of steel catwalks and hallways, disoriented as the guards carelessly threw her against the floor as if she was a sack of produce.
She was taken to a cavernous room, where Starlight could see rows upon rows of prison cells, endless in their multitude, four stories up and stretching deeper into the mountain. Ponies’ hooves hung from the edge of their cells like vines, grasping at any prospect of freedom they could hope to imagine.
On the bottom floor of prison cells in the cavernous dungeon, Starlight was thrown alongside other new prisoners, or various species and sex, all organized in a line. There were guards standing idly by in the shadows, patiently.
Starlight picked herself up from the ground, grunting softly as she brushed off all of her new bruises she sustained during the painful journey through the facility.
Then before she knew it, in front of her there stood a hulking pegasus stallion, with a ghoulish face chalk-full of scratches and hard edges. He was a soft blue in color, with greying tan hair. His eyes were like coal, and his nose would flare up everytime he snarled in disgust at the motley line of prisoners standing before him. But right then, his sole target was Starlight.
“I would hope you at least traveled well, since you insisted upon holding us up so long,” he said, his grizzly growl sending shivers down Starlight’s spine. She wasn’t sure what to reply with, though even if she was, she was too petrified with fear to dare speak.
“I am going to need you to understand, Starlight Glimmer,” the stallion said, causing Starlight to recoil in shock that he already knew her name, “Treasonous little whore - tardiness will not be tolerated. Not now, nor any point after.”
His voice was hoarse like gravel, and his eyes burned hot with the rage of a hundred suns.
Before Starlight could prepare herself, the stallion landed a thunderous jabbing kick to her gut, sending her crashing to the ground in pain. Without restraint, he planted three more kicks, each rattling her entire body with their rupturing impact. She lurched over in pain, and even coughed up some blood, holding her stomach in agony.
“Let this be a first lesson to all you,” the stallion continued, now addressing the entire row of prisoners, who were all quaking with fear as Starlight writhed on the ground.
“Whatever you thought you could get away with before, you will not get away with anymore….I know you are all new here, which means you ought to make an extra effort to abide by the rules. You will only speak when told to speak, act when told to act, and think what you’re told to think. This place does wonders for the wicked. Be grateful, wretches, that your sin might be purified, by whatever means I see fit,” the stallion said, practically yelling as his booming voice carried through the air of the vast halls of the prison.
“Your uniforms will be assigned to you by your block chief. Any complaints are to be given to your block chief. You will only report to me for monthly evaluation, or otherwise if I request it,” the stallion ordered. He then gave a bizarre, slightly-deranged grin, as his eyes passed over the line of trembling prisoners, “Welcome to Hellhatch.”
He then pivoted and marched out from the cavernous chamber, leaving the other guards to begin adjudicating the pack of terrified prisoners. Two had already broken down into tears, and the rest were deathly still as hope faded into memory.
“Glimmer,” said one of the guards, marching straight towards Starlight, who was still groaning in pain on the ground.
“Get up,” he said, offering her a hoof.
Starlight reluctantly accepted his hoof, managing to pull herself up.
“Getting acquainted with the warden I see?” the guard asked, smirking.
Starlight saw the other prisoners be marched away down varying hallways of the prison, which was a chaotic lair of constant movement.
“I’m Stewball, your cell block chief,” the guard said, grabbing a hold of the leash connected to Starlight’s chain.
“It’s a two floor ride up the shaft, come this way,” he said, towing Starlight along behind him.
They entered the elevator shaft side by side. Starlight’s shoulders hung low, and her eyes were only half-open, as melancholy seized her. The very air of the prison was life-draining, and there truly seemed to be no escape from the dark caverns and cold steel that awaited her.
As the elevator began ascending, Stewball took it upon himself to stand uncomfortably close to Starlight, who only then began to realize she might already have a significant problem to deal with.
Now Stewball was a shrewd fellow, aggressive in his forwardness yet observably unable to follow through with the more devious of his intentions. He was an earth pony, whose mane was reddish brown and whose coat was like an oak’s bark. He had wiry whiskers scattered across his face, and a pair of beady eyes. He was tall and lanky, but large enough to intimidate a pony of Starlight’s size. Usually Starlight had her magic to back her up in times of trouble, but not this time. This time, she was more vulnerable than she had ever felt before.
His breath was hot overtop her neck. She hesitated to back away, for fear of receiving another beating in the same vein as what the cruel warden inflicted upon her. Still, her urge was to fight back.
She happened to be saved from any real advances when the elevator reached its destination.
Level 3
The light above the door flashed green and the doors swung open, provoking Stewball into backing away from Starlight.
Stewball resumed his cordial demeanor, leaving Starlight with only a lustful wink.
Starlight winced in disgust.
“Oh, don’t make that face. I only wanted a bit of fun, is all. You should too, there isn’t much other fun to be had down here,” Stewball said, as he began walking Starlight down the cell block hallway.
“You ought to be careful, by the way. Old Steel Shackle is a pony you don’t want to make enemies with. So here’s some advice: do as your told, and keep your head down, and you may last longer than the other runts doomed to die,” he said, bearing a demented grin.
“It’s lights-out in five hours. You’ll get your uniform and a service itinerary tomorrow. I think you’re working at laundry,” Stewball said, tugging on her chain leash, “We don’t like to waste able bodies while they last. Some get stronger here, the rest break down.”
Stewball expected some sort of snarky comment from Starlight, who was still sulking in frustration as she kept up with his quick pace.
“Here’s your cell, traitor,” he said, slowing up as they approached Cell #323, “Oh, that reminds me. The pony you’re replacing, she was murdered by her cellmate. That is to say, your cellmate.”
Starlight’s jaw dropped in shock at this revelation, but had little time to craft a plan, before the cell door flew open and she was shoved inside. Stewball cackled to himself as he left her in the dark damp cell, and the bars slammed shut behind her.
Starlight sprang up to her hooves, expecting having to defend herself against whatever lay ahead of her in the darkness.
“Ooh, I’m so scared,” came a voice, mocking Starlight’s defensive stance and heavy breathing.
“Come out where I can see you!” Starlight commanded, unwilling to play any games with her taunting cellmate.
The pony in the shadows scoffed, and jumped down from what had to be a bunk bed, judging by the sound of bending springs.
The pony landed on the dusty floor in a huff, flaunting her hips as she marched out from the shadows.
Starlight was admittedly underwhelmed by the pony, who was notably short, with a hot pink coat, a fair violet mane curled into a bun, and brown eyes. The pony appeared to be a few years older than Starlight, and had an off-putting manic glare that rubbed Starlight the wrong way.
“Um...hi, I’m Starlight,” Starlight said, hoping to make a good first impression.
The cellmate made no answer, eyeing Starlight up and down as if scaling her for fashionware.
“You were the one Shackle was wailing on, I saw it,” the cellmate said, ignoring any kind of formal introduction.
“Uh, yeah,” Starlight said, embarrassed, and her bruises hurt a little bit more as the memory passed through her mind.
The cellmate scoffed, as if her suspicions had been confirmed.
“You won’t last long here,” she said, turning back around and climbing up the bunk bed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Starlight asked, annoyed with the insinuation.
“I’ve already got you all figured out. Unicorn. High strung. Pampered. They’ll eat you alive and spit you out in a week’s time. I’d know, I used to be just like you,” the cellmate said, pausing to ensure her comparison was sensible. “Minus the horn,” she corrected, “But I wouldn’t let them get to me. You know what happened to the last pony who tried to get to me?” the cellmate asked, her eyes darting back and forth, as bloody madness swept over her face.
Starlight nervously shook her head, though feared she already knew the answer.
“You’re sleeping in her bed,” the cellmate said, leaving Starlight with a sinister smirk as she fell back into her bed to stare up at the ceiling. The cellmate seemed to get a twisted kick out of Starlight's growing anxiety.
“Don’t ever talk to me from now on, 'kay? I don’t want to miss the peace and quiet. That’s all I’ve got in here. That’s all I need,” the cellmate said, wistfully.
Starlight decided that was a mutually beneficial request, and cautiously made her way towards the bottom bunk. Though these halls were dark and reeked of misery, Starlight knew fully well that she would not be deterred, no matter the greatest of odds. And besides, now she had all the time in the world.
The town of Ponyville had slept soundly that night, though not all of them would be dawning with the sun.
Seven bodies lay strewn across the hardwood in meeting room #3, crimson red blood having dried over every surface it touched.
After hours of undisturbed peace, the site of that murderous travesty would at last be uncovered.
At precisely 6:29 a.m. that morning, the front doors of the town hall were thrown open, in marching a team of twenty-two ponies dressed in black suits .
The sun had yet to rise, and the town hall lobby was still drowning in darkness.
At the forefront of the team of agents was a unicorn stuffed in a suit and tie, with a stubbly-bearded brown face and a curly head of hair the color of mud. He was called Bandolier, the leader of the inspection team sent into Ponyville before the crack of dawn, to investigate a raised concern of high command.
Though he thought himself to be typically cool under pressure, as he took his first steps inside the building his movements were sporadic, as if around every corner he expected to be startled out of his wits.
“727-Golf, clear,” he muttered into the speaker of his hoof-held radio.
“Affirmative,” came a drowsy voice from the other end.
“Led Head, take two, upstairs,” Bandolier ordered to a begrudged subordinate who would much prefer a more flattering nickname, "Coffee, keep the place locked down. Nopony should know we're here. Heels, Gin, and the rest of you, follow me,” he continued, preparing himself for whatever calamity awaited them deeper inside the building.
The remaining team members proceeded to trudge cautiously behind Bandolier, each uncertain of what dangers lay ahead.
“Lieutenant,” said one of the agents, whose head was hidden beneath a visor-protected black helmet. Her name was Amity Stiletto, affectionately donned ‘Heels’ by her team-members. She was the youngest on the team, had a light pink coat and a long wavy reddish-pink mane, and at the moment, seemed to be spooked by something. “Don’t you smell that?” she asked, hesitantly inching away from the source, which came from behind a nearby closed door.
Bandolier had been so distraught over his own fears, that he hadn’t even recognized the sickly-sweet smell of rotting flesh pouring out from the cracks of the door.
He sighed, realizing that he very likely would not be happy with what he found on the opposite side.
“Ready?” he muttered to his companions, right before he fired a blinding blast of red magic that reduced the door to a pile of splinters.
There was a collective silence as the smoke cleared, and the red carnage inside unveiled itself. What was left of Thorax, Ember, Novo, Blueblood, Bronze Beam, Filibuster, and Paramount was on display for all of them to see.
Without delay, two of the team members were unable to prevent themselves from hurling up yesterday’s dinner off to the side, for the smell of the bloody innards lay strewn about the room.
"Celestia save us," muttered Bandolier.
He had hoped that perhaps one or two of those unfortunate victims could still be alive, though it was impossible by the sheer amount of blood that coated the walls. He, and the other agents behind him, were frozen in the doorway, struggling to step forth into what felt like hallowed ground, or else cursed.
“...Who could have done this?” asked Genenver, also called Gin, a short-statured earth pony stallion with a light mossy green coat and a short-cut thin dark brown mane. He could not bring himself to look away.
Bandolier coughed a few times and held a hoof to his nose, trying his best to protect himself from the aggressively pungent smell of death.
“I want everything preserved and taken back. Clean the room when it’s ready,” Bandolier ordered.
“Should I alert the local police? The mayor?” Amity asked.
Bandolier shot her a resentful side-eye.
“No. This is above our level, and it’s leagues beyond theirs. Something like this could provoke a war, if we’re not careful…Nopony else can know about this. Not yet,” Bandolier said, “Let the Chief know what’s happened. This is top priority, we’re on high alert,” Bandolier said.
Amity nodded and slipped away from the scene, anxious from being in such close proximity to such a grotesque catastrophe.
“Looks like the Chief was right to suspect something went wrong…” Genever said, while agents began filing into the room around them to begin collecting evidence and retrieving body parts. "Meeting all together like that, what were they thinking?"
“I don’t know what I thought we’d find here, but not this…” Bandolier said, gravely.
“It could have been some freak accident of some kind,” Genever hoped, "Spell mishap."
Bandolier shook his head, disgusted with his own alternative theory.
“They were all gathered together in one place...This was intentional. And whoever is responsible, they’re still out there…” he said, his voice giving out towards the end. He at last could not bring himself to look on any longer, and turned to escape.
A pair of violet eyes gazed down at the city of white and gold, its bustling streets running high on life. Equestrian flags danced in the wind, while music and foals' laughter could be heard around almost every street corner.
Summer had blessed the city of Canterlot with a cool breeze and a picture-book sky, beauty untold but by sight alone.
But those eyes could see nothing of that beauty, nothing past the heavy veil of grief and guilt that stood before them.
Twilight Sparkle had hidden herself away in her royal bedchamber, since she arrived in the city that morning. The world remained oblivious to her grave treachery, though even so, judgment felt inescapable. She was lost in a pit where light could not reach; and while her torments endured she still had to force a cordial smile and a regal step everywhere she went. She wondered whether she had it in her, to deceive not only the world, but herself.
There was no other way.
She knew of heroes of incontestable fame and grandeur, who may have yet committed such evil. Out of necessity or for survival perhaps, but evil nonetheless. She could not be denied a place among them, Twilight thought, not while she remained a hero of Equestria. The world would always believe as much, at least.
And Starlight. One more trial to face, one more punishment for her mistakes. Hellhatch was one of only two options, she thought; she could not have humored the other. But she was finished now, or at least she told herself so.
She would tell Starlight the truth, when the time was right. But the dust had to settle first.
She leaned deeper against the couch by her window sill, attempting to find some peace of mind in the gentle wind.
However, her attempts were short-lived.
“Twilight!” came a voice from behind her, belonging to Spike.
Twilight took a moment to collect her thoughts, before swiveling her head to face the intrusion.
“Hi Spike,” Twilight said. A warmness returned to her, as a smile reached her lips.
“Y'alright? You’ve been up here all day,” Spike said, slightly concerned, as he flew deeper into the spacious bedchamber. The room contained an assortment of luxurious purple fabrics and priceless furniture, and bookshelves lined almost every wall. Even in the highest facet of royalty, Twilight could not deny herself a vast personal library at her bedside disposal.
“I’m alright. Just tired from all this running around,” Twilight said, mid-yawn, “Did Rarity get back to you? What did she end up doing?” Twilight asked, assuming Spike of all creatures would know.
“About the move? She’s still on the fence. I was just with her and Sassy Saddles in the boutique downtown. I think Sweetie's getting homesick,” Spike reported.
Twilight sighed, rising from the couch to go pour herself some tea from a pot sitting on the coffee table.
“I don’t blame her. She’s left all her friends behind,” Twilight said, while pouring the tea.
“Right. But duty calls, I guess,” Spike said.
Twilight paused, before taking a grand sip from her cup of tea.
“...Yeah,” Twilight said, staring off into space.
“Oh, but what I really came for…” Spike said, pausing to reach into a satchel drawn by a string across his chest, “Was to give you this.”
From his satchel, Spike retrieved a folded off-white envelope, stamped with a red wax emblem.
“From Mayor Mare,” Spike said, flying closer towards Twilight to hand it over.
Twilight hesitantly accepted the envelope, gently placing it on the coffee table as if it was a bomb about to go off.
“When did you get this?” Twilight asked, her voice only a whisper.
“Just a few hours ago,” Spike said.
Twilight took a deep breath, not particularly in the mood for whatever was inside that letter.
“I’ll need to read this later. I still feel exhausted,” Twilight said, feigning some lightheadedness, "Oh, I heard the new shipment of gems came in this morning, you'd better get your fill."
Spike's eyes widened.
“Say no more,” Spike grinned, before politely excusing himself.
He darted off through the air, letting the door slowly close shut behind him.
As soon as the door was shut, Twilight immediately took to ripping open the envelope.
Inside was a parchment letter and a vial of black powder, loosely secured with a miniature cork.
Twilight unfolded the letter, and read what had been scribbled down.
Urgent.
Twilight rolled her eyes, and threw the letter back down on the coffee table.
Making no effort to hurry, Twilight unscrewed the vial, and began gathering some items from a bookshelf sitting below her window.
In a bowl of water, she mixed the vial of powder with some acidic green liquid until the mixture began to boil. She proceeded to ignite her horn and set a small flame to the mixture, which burst into a fist of wispy green fire.
The flames rose into the air, evaporating into a smoky, sparkling, magical wall that hovered in the air.
And in that magic, a whirlpool of energy began to manifest within its core, gradually revealing an image of a wooden room inside.
“Oh, your highness, there you are,” came a voice from out of sight in the portal-bound room.
A grey-maned pony quickly jumped into frame, adjusting her round glasses and taking a seat in front of the magical portal.
“I apologize for the suddenness, and I hope I haven’t interrupted anything, you must understand how-” Mayor Mare began.
“Ms. Mayor. What do you need?” Twilight asked, coldly.
“I only wished to...Well you see, it’s near afternoon. And no news of your pupil’s treason has graced my ears...Surely you must find this...concerning,” Mayor Mare said, admittedly nervous to be challenging Twilight’s intentions, or perhaps even competency. Still, Twilight's hardened scowl was enough to crush any control Mayor Mare believed herself to have over the conversation.
“Nopony is to know of anything having to do with Starlight’s arrest. As far as anypony knows, she’s currently on a far-away friendship mission,” Twilight said, annoyed with having to be reminded.
“I don’t understand. Why don’t we just execute her? Starlight Glimmer was-”
“Never supposed to be a part of this,” Twilight interrupted, disgusted with the mayor's suggestion, “She was an unnecessary complication, and it’s been dealt with,” Twilight said, repressing her own guilt, “Your hostility towards her and your foolish provocations likely fed into her curiosity about what Posh's little band of heroes was up to. I recommend you be especially careful from here onward, and avoid making anymore careless mistakes. I would rather not send any more of my friends to the Frozen North,” Twilight said, bitterly.
Mayor Mare shrunk down slightly in her chair, fearful of angering Twilight any further.
“My officers found the town hall cleaned out and empty this morning," Mayor Mare said, deciding there was no pleasant way to put it, "There’s no evidence of what happened."
Twilight merely snickered, having assumed that would be the case.
“They’re faster than I thought,” Twilight muttered to herself, “It doesn’t matter. Creatures will believe what they want to believe. Our business is settled.”
“Actually...That’s the other thing I had to speak with you about,” Mayor Mare said.
“What is it?” Twilight demanded.
“It’s only...Prince Rutherford, the Yak, I've been informed that he was meant to attend last night’s event. Only he became ill, and returned home early…”
Twilight froze for a moment, solemnly coming to a grim understanding. In all the madness, she had not considered the yak was involved as well.
“I’ll handle it...Ms. Mayor, be sure to keep things under control. I had meant for Starlight to work with you, but...” Twilight said.
"I will carry on just fine without her," Mayor Mare said, and the strain in her voice betrayed her jealousy, "As I always have."
"Worry about Ponyville. Leave me to worry about the rest," Twilight said.
“As you wish, your highness,” Mayor Mare said, her voice quivering slightly, “Thank you for taking the time to-” she attempted to say, before Twilight cut her off by dousing the fiery portal with water from a nearby glass pitcher.
As the smoke cleared, Twilight was renewed in her conviction. Though her heart was heavy, she could not yield quite yet.
There remained work to be done.
Stuck for hours in her new prison cell home, Starlight had managed to avoid angering her finicky cellmate for the entirety of the day, save for a string of muttered curses thrown in response to Starlight sneezing.
Her uniform, which had been delivered to her cell soon after her arrival, was a tight-fitting orange jumpsuit and a pair of boots.
Her first night in the prison, she was cursed with insomnia. Lying on her rock-hard mattress in the freezing cold with no blanket, she only managed to drift off occasionally for an hour or two, or until her cellmate’s snoring reached a certain decibel. Still, she was alive, and maybe even stood a better chance at survival compared to some of the other prisoners she had seen.
Maybe this won’t be so bad.
She stirred on the concrete mattress, and then found herself face to face with a rat the size of a small cat, chewing on her boot.
Starlight screeched and swatted the rat away.
She sighed in exhaustion, and figured she might as well face the facts, that she was in possibly the worst prison in Equestria, and unless somepony near and dear to her, or anypony for that matter, was to rescue her, she would be stuck here, worked to death or executed. Whichever came first.
The rat returned, but this time Starlight was prepared, grunting and kicking it back to the floor.
“Do you mind? I’m trying to sleep,” the voice of her cellmate fell from the top bunk.
“There’s a rat!” Starlight said.
“You don’t say,” the cellmate sighed, “They like to eat boots. Use them as a pillow.”
“Use my boots as a pillow?”
“Oh, like that mattress is much of a cushion? Keep a rock in your hoof and smash its skull in when you get the chance. But make sure to leave the body, 'kay. Then the others will get the message. You better do it, or you’ll have one chewing on your face in the middle of the night.”
“Sorry, I don’t happen to have a rock handy,” Starlight grumbled.
Starlight could hear her cellmate’s sigh.
“Why do I always get stuck with the damsels? Here,” her cellmate said. A grapefruit-sized rock fell from the top bunk, and was caught by Starlight, right before it would have caved her face in.
“Thanks...So uh, maybe you could tell me where I am?” Starlight asked.
Her cellmate hadn’t been planning on having a conversation at this hour, but relented.
“Hellhatch Prison. Far off in the Frozen North. But don’t worry, you won’t be here long. A step past those gates is a step in the grave.”
“I can see that. Has anypony ever escaped?” Starlight asked.
“Escape? Death is your only escape, friend.”
Starlight was not particularly satisfied with that answer.
“Nopony has ever tried?”
“Tried? Yes. Succeeded? Not once. Even if you did make it past the walls, there’s hundreds of miles of frozen nothing between you and civilization. You'd starve soon enough, if you managed not to freeze to death first.”
Starlight could hear her cellmate turn over, sticking her head over the top to face Starlight below.
“'Kay, I can see I won’t be getting any sleep tonight until I give you the rundown, so listen close. First: never get sick. Nopony who goes to the infirmary ever comes back. Second: never talk to anypony. The guards don’t like chit chat, so just stick to yourself. Third: never talk to me. I’ve got an entire fantasy world going on in my head, and I don’t like to be interrupted. Right now I’m back in Manehattan, and the sun is shining, and I’m having a lovely little dinner with my favorite fabric designers.”
“You’re from Manehattan?”
“Never ask a personal question,” the cellmate continued, “Never tell anypony that you’re innocent.”
“But I really am inno-”
“-cent, guilty, doesn't matter. All that matters is doing your work well, until you get to drop dead. Back home wasn’t so different in a way, except here everything happens a lot quicker. Oh, and most importantly, do not cross Prisoner 192119. We just call her Nineteen. She’s trouble, and she pretty much runs things here.”
“Got it.”
“Now, if it’s quite alright with you, I’d very much like to get some sleep.”
The cellmate turned back onto her bunk, and was back to her snoring within mere minutes.
Starlight heard the rat scurrying up her bedpost, and brought her hoof down, hard, gripping the rock tightly. The rat lay still.
There was hope for her yet.
The next morning, Starlight was shaken awake by the furious buzzing of the prison bell.
Starlight opened her groggy eyes, after innumerable fruitless attempts at falling asleep. Her bruises still stung, and the prison air was about as cold as when she was out in the snow yesterday.
That brief conversation seemed to be about the most she would ever speak with her cellmate, who she knew only as #191809. The hot-pink colored earth pony had an unstable twitch and a collection of nervous tics, and cared not for frivolous small talk.
“Move your boots,” was the closest to a “good morning” Starlight received that day.
Like the other prisoners on her block, Starlight stood outside her cell for morning inspection that day, and was caught at the receiving end of a maliciously lustful glare courtesy of Stewball, which she hoped would not be part of her daily routine.
The dining hall was on the first level, in the westmost corner of the facility interior. The mares ate first on Saturdays, which was a relief, as Starlight was absolutely starving. She hadn’t had anything to eat since before her arrest. She would eat whatever was given to her; she would need her strength when the time came.
Though whether or not that day’s breakfast could be considered ‘food’ was a contentious matter.
After grabbing a tray and a spork, she received her first scoop of the affectionately-termed “muck:” a dark brown paste resembling something that had already been eaten.
Starlight had lost track of her cellmate in the breakfast crowd, forced instead to sit alone at a corner table. Trixie was nowhere to be seen in the crowded dining hall, and Starlight could only hope that she wasn’t hurt or dead already.
Her eyes wandered across the dining hall, and she saw the prisoners were all broken souls, beaten, bruised, starved, and tormented from years, some just months, of grueling incarceration.
Starlight vowed to herself not to end up another ghost roaming these halls, that hope would remain inside her for as long as she drew breath. She was grasping for something to depend on, after having lost everything. She was without purpose, now that Twilight had effectively betrayed every truth Starlight had believed in. Whether friendship was truly magic any longer, Starlight was unsure of. She would have to discover some answers for herself now, free of whatever twisted schemes her former teacher was up to.
Starlight, seeking to keep up with the chaotic system of the facility, was eager to get accustomed to her new routine.
She learned she was lucky to have been assigned to the laundromat and not somewhere more dreadful like the factory or the mines. Still, she would have preferred to get to work in the prison library, if only to have some sort of memory of the life she used to live.
The laundromat was a wide room, with dirty jumpsuits spilling out of conveyor belts, and ponies pushing bins and carts of clothing back and forth.
“Glimmer?” asked a guard stationed near the door.
“Yes,” Starlight replied.
“Station 42. That way,” the guard said, as if she was just another file to be sorted away.
Starlight considered firing back with something, but decided she didn’t want to be getting into any trouble.
Not yet, at least.
At the aforementioned Station 42, Starlight had little clue as to what she was exactly supposed to be doing. She was facing a conveyor belt, with rags and jumpsuits rushing past her at a wicked pace.
Panic began to set in, as she feared a reprimand or some lambasting from the other prisoners.
“Um, sorry, could you show me where-” Starlight attempted to ask a prisoner passing by, who promptly ignored her outright.
Starlight frowned and turned instead to the prisoner across the conveyor belt in front of her.
“Hi, excuse me, I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you know whether I should…” Starlight tried to say, but again she was ignored.
Nervous sweat trickled down her neck, and her left hoof began to tremble uncontrollably. Her anxiety was brought to a halt, however, when a hoof came to tap her on the shoulder.
Holding back tears, Starlight turned to see an earth pony with long, curly, unkempt green hair and a lighter green face, silently waving her in the direction of a bin just a few yards around a corner. The green mare proceeded to grab a jumpsuit from the belt, fold it four ways neatly, and place it in the bin squarely. She turned back to Starlight, waiting for her to follow her example.
Starlight understood, folding the jumpsuit exactly as the green mare had shown her. Starlight raised it up for the green mare to inspect, and was relieved to be gifted a smile and a nod of approval.
“Thanks for the help,” Starlight said, grateful there was somepony willing to help her. She glanced right past the green mare towards the bin, and scooted towards it to dump off her folded laundry.
“Hey, so what’s your name, I’m…” Starlight began to say, yet when she turned around, the pony was nowhere to be seen. Starlight’s brief relief to have found a potential friend collapsed within seconds, and she was alone once more. She did find it bizarre though, that the curly-haired earth pony had practically disappeared from sight completely. Starlight resumed her post at the belt, wasting no time to make up for lost work.
Starlight followed her cellmate’s advice to the letter. While folding and stacking laundry, she spoke to nopony, kept her head down, and avoided the inclination to proclaim her innocence to somepony, anypony. She didn’t belong here, yet she knew there was no point in pouting about it. She was stuck here whether she deserved it or not.
It wasn’t until dinner, after a long day of work, that Starlight finally come across some unexpected fortune.
While waiting in the food line for a steaming hot plate of muck, Starlight noticed some sort of commotion towards the center of the dining hall.
There was a large gang of ponies, all circling around one poor soul like a pack of sharks. They were shoving her to the ground, kicking her between each other, and dumping whatever foul greasy sludge was on their plates over her head.
Starlight pitied the victim, and was close to running over to help, until she remembered her cellmate’s advice.
Stick to yourself.
Starlight noticed the leader of the gang of ponies, a yellow-coated unicorn mare, with a wavy red mane with yellow streaks, and bright cyan eyes. She had a devious grin on her face, as if she got a sadistic thrill out of watching her victim be humiliated. Starlight recognized the yellow unicorn’s face, though she wasn’t sure from where.
Then, Starlight finally got a glimpse of who exactly was at the receiving end of that barrage.
“Trixie!” Starlight whispered, horrified as she watched the azure unicorn be tossed around and bludgeoned without mercy.
Starlight was dead-set on intervening, now that she knew it was her friend who was in trouble. However, she hesitated, upon hearing a small conversation between the two prisoners behind her in line.
“Looks like Nineteen’s got another one,” said one.
“Better her than me,” replied the other.
Starlight quickly came to the correct conclusion, that the cruel leader of that thuggish gang of ponies, who bore a demented smirk at her victim’s expense, was none other than the dreaded #192119, of whom her cellmate had explicitly instructed her not to toil with.
Starlight, however, was unimpeded by this revelation, unwilling to allow this to continue.
Starlight stormed forward, leaving her tray behind on the rack.
“Whoa there,” said one of the prisoners in line.
“What’s she doing?” said the other.
Half of the entire cafeteria was now spectating the beatdown near the center tables. Some ponies knew all too well what it was like to suffer a beating from Nineteen, and her unsightly posse of brutish bullies. It was uncommon for anypony, even guards, to dare intercede, though on this day in particular, the crowd of seated spectators were in for a twist.
“Leave her alone,” Starlight yelled as soon as she reached the scene, releasing a fraction of the anger that had been boiling up inside her since her arrest. Her voice echoed loud over the dining hall, catching the attention of everypony within earshot.
Nineteen, who had her back turned to Starlight and had Trixie’s neck in her hoof, stopped moving completely in response to the interruption.
Nineteen dropped Trixie to the ground, and spun around, while the rest of her gang began to crowd around Starlight, trying their hardest to intimidate her.
“Well, who do we have here?” Nineteen said. Her voice was smooth, sharp, and unsettling, and Starlight quickly found herself having to rethink her approach.
“Starlight?!” Trixie exclaimed, lifting her head up from the ground.
“I said, leave her alone,” Starlight said, taking a fateful step forward, right up towards Nineteen.
Nineteen seemed to be slightly caught off-guard, perhaps even impressed, and glanced back at a terrified Trixie, who had since picked herself up off the ground.
“Your friend was in my way. Maybe you should avoid the same mistake,” Nineteen spat, shoving Starlight back slightly with a single hoof.
Nineteen had spent her time in prison well, it seemed. Not only had she amassed a reputation for causing trouble and rowdying prisoners up, but she was also more physically fit than she had been upon arrival, and Starlight could feel it from only that light shove.
“We’ll be going,” Starlight said, carelessly shoving past a bewildered Nineteen to go retrieve Trixie.
Nineteen was frozen, shocked that a pony could be so brazen as to dare incur her wrath. She made no move to retaliate though, allowing Starlight to trot off with a bloodied Trixie beside her. Nineteen was confused more than anything else, at what could have compelled that unicorn to dare stand up to her in the first place.
The cafeteria gradually returned to its typical rowdiness, while Starlight helped Trixie over to an empty table.
They stared at one another for a moment, before Trixie flung herself back up for an embrace.
"It's good to see you," Starlight smiled, holding her friend as she shuddered against her.
"I thought you were dead," Trixie said, her voice hollow. Starlight helped Trixie to the bench, and sat herself across from her.
“I might be soon enough,” Starlight said, catching sight of Nineteen glaring at her from the center tables.
“You know that was-”
“I know,” Starlight interrupted, “I’m glad I found you."
Trixie rubbed her bruises and managed a weak smile, glad that the two of them were reunited.
"Ha!" Trixie exclaimed, "It'll take a lot more than that to stop the great and powerful Trixie."
And Starlight, despite knowing she may have just made a grave mistake, felt a sense of hope strengthen itself inside her. If Twilight thought those bars and snow would be enough to stop Starlight from telling the world the truth, she was wrong. And Starlight knew otherwise.
She was going to escape.
Saturdays were the busiest day of the week.
At least, they usually were, yet on this particular Saturday, there was not a customer within sight.
There was only one employee on staff that day at Short Circuit’s Electronics Shop at Park Avenue, Manehattan. Leaning against a display refrigerator, the dirty-blonde haired, light brown-coated pegasus had a cigarette in his mouth, and the Official Guide to Legal Specialties stuck in his hoof. His reading glasses were uneven on his snout, and he had neglected to fix them after the last time they were bent at the sides.
He had dusky stubble, and dark circles around his eyes. Most of last night was spent cramming for the following night's test. He was no young buck, as his peers often reminded him, and he could not keep up with the class as much as he'd like. But being accepted was enough of an achievement as anything he could've hoped for, and so he made himself work twice as hard to meet the class average.
“What the hell are you doing?” screeched the voice of a curmudgeonly earth pony storming out from the manager’s office.
The pegasus was slow to react, struggling to tear his eyes away from the end of one paragraph.
“I’m not paying you to stand there and read,” the manager croaked. Spit landed in the pegasus' face, and he winced.
“My mistake, sir, but there was nopony here," he replied.
The manager raised an eyebrow. He had not wished to hear anything beyond I'll never do it again.
“Who the hell do you think you're talking to? I could have you out on the street today if I'd like. Wouldn't have much trouble replacing you. One ball and no brain," the manager muttered, as he swatted the book out of the pegasus’ hooves.
He marched back into his office, while the pegasus bent down to pick up his book.
But, as he rose up from picking up the book, his attention was seized by something outside.
Through the storefront glass, he saw a girl, struggling on the sidewalk against two brutishly-built stallions, who were attempting to grab a hold of her.
The girl was a pegasus, old enough for university, with a cream-colored coat and a long wavy dark chestnut mane, wearing a navy-blue dress. She was practically in tears, as the two stallions struggled to grab a hold of her. She screeched and buckled against the stallions' grip, fighting to escape like an animal fleeing a fire.
The stallion slowly put his book down on the check-out counter, hesitantly approaching the scene. He glanced back at his boss' office, and, believing the coast was clear, made his way towards the front door.
The girl screamed again, as she thrashed on the ground. She bit into the flesh of one of her attacker's legs, prompting him to swat her across the face.
"Bitch!" he grunted.
He had her by the throat next, slamming her temple against a fire hydrant. Ponies walked right along by, their eyes stuck straight ahead. The girl shrieked and fought and turned purple under his grasp, as he squeezed and squeezed every last breath out of her.
But the girl's luck changed, however, when one of the attackers suddenly collapsed to the ground, to the music of metal against bone.
The other stallion turned around to defend himself, but he was too slow, catching a lead pipe with his face before he could prepare.
The second stallion fell right before the first, leaving the girl in a heap of tears and staggered breaths.
The pegasus glanced down at her, cautiously, as if she was no mere stranger. He had seen those eyes of deep blue once before. He kept the pipe on him, wary of others who might be close behind.
“Thanks,” the girl managed to say, allowing him to help her up. She caught her breath, leaning against a stop sign and rubbing blood off of her lip.
"Nice swing you got," the girl mumbled, "I meant to do that, y'know. Would have had my hoof on that brick right there, if Luna blessed me with a few more inches. I appreciate it, I really do."
“You're not hurt?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Not too bad. I've got to hide somewhere, more are coming...Come with me,” she beckoned, grabbing him by the hoof.
He was reluctant to follow this strange pony, and even more reluctant to abandon his post at the shop. But he was drawn to her, to those eyes. He supposed he could not leave her as she was, bloodied and on the run. He glanced back at the shop, and back to the girl, and reluctantly allowed her to drag him off with her.
Together, they trotted down the city sidewalk, as the street traffic worsened and carriage horns blared like a flock of geese. The stallion kept his eyes on the ponies around them, wary of whoever else might be after the girl.
He had no idea where she was taking him, though he didn’t see how it could be worse than where he had started.
“What a mess.”
Bandolier and Genever returned to the Ponyville Town Hall after their compatriots spent the waking hours scrubbing it clean, and preserving the bloody remnants of Equestria’s fallen heroes.
Despite their efforts, there were still obvious stains covering the floor and walls, alongside the distinct smell of roadkill.
The Town Hall had proceeded with its business as usual, secretaries and advisors passing by in the adjacent hallway, oblivious that their place of work was an active crime scene. Bandolier and Genever, both wearing discreet black suits, blended in remarkably well. The mayor was nowhere to be found that day, though Bandolier considered that to be one less annoyance to worry about.
“We did the best we could,” Genever muttered, apologetically.
“Not good enough.”
Bandolier recognized that voice instantly, belonging to a grey earth pony with greying, receding short brown hair, and a formal black suit and tie, who was marching right through the doorway.
Behind him was Amity, scurrying past him with a regretful look on her face.
“I was just about to warn you,” she gasped, out of breath.
“Chief,” Bandolier said, extending his hoof.
The Chief, whose real name was Alias, promptly ignored the gesture, insisting instead to take a quick look around the room.
“Is everything accounted for?” he croaked. His voice was raspy and firm, and he could command authority with only the faintest whisper.
“Yes sir,” Bandolier confirmed, "Seven victims. All of the remains were taken back to headquarters for analysis."
“Bandolier, this is Detective Gore,” Alias said, stepping out of the way to allow another creature, a burly grey-feathered griffin with a gruff build and a hard face, “Considering how serious this is, I thought we could use all the help we could get.”
Gore stalked past Bandolier’s still raised-hoof, denying him a second hoofshake.
“Our doctors at Canterlot will do all they can to form a report,” Alias assured.
“You’ve seen the bodies?” Genever asked.
“What’s left of them,” Alias said, gravely, “Now somepony tell me some good news.”
“We checked with the field agents across Equestria," Amity said, "The Maretonian Duchess, the Saddle Arabians, Yak Royal Family, they’re all fine. This was an isolated incident."
“But, we have no idea why they were meeting here in the first place,” Bandolier said.
“They were gathered here. Set up,” Gore said, kneeling down beside the stained hardwood, “There were bruises on some of the bodies, residue of trucidation spells...and the furniture is all broken. There was a struggle.”
“There could be some of the attacker’s blood mixed in there too,” Bandolier posited.
“The blood samples will be difficult to draw evidence from. So much of it is muddled together,” Genever said.
“Or maybe the killer was one of them. And none of them made it out alive,” Bandolier suggested.
“No. Only a unicorn of great power could possibly be capable of what happened here,” Gore said, standing up from the ground, “And I can think of only a few in a position to do so. Someone who could hide their tracks. Someone so unlikely they would never be suspected. Someone who has already won the hearts of Equestria. Someone separate from the political gentry class that gave us the likes of the dearly departed Posh Paramount and Filibuster. Someone royal, even,” Gore said, drawing an implication Alias was unwilling to even consider.
“That’s not possible. And I won’t humor it, Gore,” Alias dismissed, “Posh and the princesses always got along. You know that. Ember and Thorax, they fought at the princess's side not even a year ago. Soldiers, mercenaries, spellbinders, countless numbers of them could be capable of something like this. It's impossible to narrow it down, for now. Bandolier, have all of the remaining samples be sent back to Canterlot. We can’t stay here too long, or we’ll make a scene. Sergeant Genever will stay here in Ponyville, to keep an eye out for any developments.”
“Yes sir,” Genever replied.
“There could be other targets. Amity, I want you to organize a shadowing operation for everypony of interest who attended that ceremony yesterday,” Alias ordered, "And I want you to personally shadow the yak prince, Rutherford. I received a report that he had been in correspondence with Captain Bronze Beam, just days prior to the ceremony. Add any any other creature to the list who may be viable as another target. This very well might not be an isolated incident."
“Gotcha,” Amity replied, "Rutherford's safe with me."
“We’re going to find this bastard, one way or another. But we’ll need to move quickly. This can’t be where it ends,” Alias said, narrowing his eyes at the bloody aftermath that lay before him. Whoever could commit such heinous crimes and manage to get away with it, would certainly strike more than once.
After dinner, Starlight managed to help Trixie along all the way back to her home sweet home, Cell #323.
“I think I need to go to bed early tonight,” Starlight said, exhausted.
“You think you’ve got it bad? They’ve got me in the factory! Trixiedeserves far better!” Trixie wailed, and her muscles still ached.
Inside her cell, her cellmate was there already, sitting on the floor against the wall. Starlight sat Trixie down on her bunk, hoping that she had not been roughed up too bad.
Ripping off some paper towels from the Cell Block bathroom, Starlight wetted them with water from the sink to try and clean Trixie’s scrapes and bruises.
“I heard what you did. That was a stupid mistake,” her cellmate grunted.
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Starlight replied, laying Trixie down on her bunk to rest. Trixie glared up at the cellmate, insulted on Starlight's behalf.
“That was Nineteen you were messing with. You’ve got a big problem to deal with. And a pony with your reputation should probably be more careful.”
“Reputation?” Starlight repeated, “What are you talking about?”
“You broke a rule. Now everypony’s heard about you and what you did. You're Starlight Glimmer. You never told me that.”
“You never asked,” Starlight retorted, “And do I get to know your name?”
The cellmate hesitated, her eyes flickering up and down from the floor.
“...Suri. Suri Polomare.”
Starlight nodded, returning to Trixie's wounds.
“Hold still," Starlight muttered, before curiosity took the better of her, "So, Suri Polomare, what else have ponies been saying?”
“They say you’re dangerous. That you took on an entire changeling army by yourself, that you beat Twilight Sparkle in a duel, that you’ve enslaved entire villages...”
Starlight was mildly impressed with her new resume, and, considering how badly she sought vengeance against Twilight, that middle bit was something she didn’t mind ponies telling each other.
“Look, I've never wanted to hurt anypony, I've never beaten Twilight," Starlight began.
“And she certainly didn’t defeat the changelings by herself,” Trixie interjected.
“So you’re telling me you’re not a raving murderous psychopath?” Suri asked.
“Not last time I checked,” Starlight replied.
“Hm...I wonder how much some of these ponies here would pay me to get them a piece of the princess’ pupil...Why, you’re practically royalty. Yes, I can see it now. Five-hundred bits for a leg. Two-thousand for the head,” Suri exclaimed, approaching Starlight like a predator towards its prey.
That menacing, deranged glow returned to Suri’s eyes, and Starlight reminded herself that this was the pony whose murder victim she was replacing.
“Or...We could work together...Because I don’t plan on staying here until I freeze to death,” Starlight suggested.
Trixie raised her head, having already lost hope for escape.
“Didn’t I already tell you, there’s no way out. Not a-” Suri began.
“I’ll find a way...And I could use your help to do it,” Starlight said.
Suri scoffed at the idea.
“....I’ll think about it. You’ve still got Nineteen to deal with, maybe worry about her before some doomed escape plan,” Suri suggested.
Starlight supposed that was better than “no.”
“I should take Trixie back to her cell,” Starlight said, bending down to help Trixie up.
Suri understood, climbing back up to her top bunk, to ponder whether Starlight could really be her chance at getting her freedom back.
Starlight helped Trixie down a long series of catwalks and stairs, back to her own cell on Level 2.
“It’s just me in here,” Trixie said, after being sat down on her own bunk.
Starlight sighed and backed up into the wall, exhausted after a long first day.
“I just...can’t believe it. I can’t believe any of it. How could she do this?” Trixie stammered, "I mean, I always thought she was a snob, but this...And now she's sent us here to die!"
Starlight lacked anything close to a good answer.
“This is worse than killing us. At least killing us would have been quick!” Trixie exclaimed.
“But she didn’t kill us…” Starlight muttered, thinking again on how peculiar that was, “Twilight didn’t kill us. Why didn’t she? What stopped her?” Starlight asked herself.
“We’re never getting out of her,” Trixie said, forlornly.
Starlight suddenly felt invigorated, rising back to her hooves to stand by Trixie.
“Yes we are.”
Starlight’s newly-devised plan came together in phases, the first of which required her to transfer over to work at the prison library, where she had initially hoped to be stationed.
But to do so, She would have to face the Prison Board of Appeals, a curmudgeonly collection of ponies in a large wooden chamber, seated at the highest level of the facility.
As expected, the board found her proposal to be rather lackluster.
“I’ve loved reading all my life,” she said with a smile.
A few head-shakes later, and she was thrown right back out in the hallway outside.
Dang.
Still, her hopes were unfading. She would be relentless, she knew, and eventually she would get what she wanted.
There was a sense of excitement running through her, and she saw tomorrow as just one step closer towards freedom.
Her spirits were hijacked, however, when on the way back towards her cell for bedtime, she came across the last pony she wanted to see right then.
“Hey there, Starlight,” said #192119, stepping out from a shadowy corridor to block Starlight’s path on a dimly lit catwalk, “Offly late to be out alone.”
Starlight barely flinched, waiting for Nineteen to proceed with whatever devilish intention she had planned.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” Nineteen asked, smirking.
Starlight did indeed recognize the pony, but had no idea from where.
“Yours isn’t a face I would forget,” Starlight said.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Nineteen said, amused, “I’m Sunset Shimmer. We have a mutual friend.”
Starlight’s eyes widened in realization.
“I gave you a book once,” Starlight recalled, “But I remember it just as a dream...You were a strange one.”
Sunset snickered. There was a madness behind those eyes, Starlight could see it.
“I get that a lot.”
“So...Sunset, how’d you end up here?” Starlight asked.
Sunset shrugged.
“Bad luck," Sunset said, flatly, "I guess trouble just follows me wherever I go...Twilight had enough of me. And, loving friend that she is, she sent me here.”
Starlight laughed in disbelief.
“Then our mutual friend is really a mutual enemy,” Starlight said.
Sunset raised an eyebrow, confused.
“Trixie and I, we saw her...murder seven innocent creatures. She slaughtered them like it was nothing. She had to keep us quiet, so here we are,” Starlight said.
Sunset's mouth fell for a moment, before she quickly regained her composure. For a second, Starlight felt as though Sunset seemed almost impressed.
“Murder?” Sunset repeated, shocked, “I never thought Twilight had it in her...”
“Look, she’s betrayed us both," Starlight said, spitefully, "She cast us aside like we were nothing. That’s plain. So how about we help each other out, find a way out of here. And then maybe we can have some revenge. Together,” Starlight said, taking a step closer towards Sunset.
Sunset stifled her laughter and turned away.
“As much as that sounds wonderful…” Sunset said, “There’s no getting out of this place, Starlight.”
Starlight shook her head, refusing to accept that absolute certainty.
“If you and I had our magic, we could take this entire place down,” Starlight said.
Sunset paused, and considered the plausibility of Starlight’s theory.
“Sorry. You’re on your own with that,” Sunset said, sauntering off down the catwalk.
Starlight sighed in defeat, frustrated that everypony around her seemed to have already lost hope.
Just one more.
She would keep telling herself that, until she couldn’t remember why she had flown over to the bar in the first place.
Lightning Dust had her head resting against an empty bottle of bourbon, muttering an unintelligible slur of nonsense.
She was sitting alone in the bar, which was crowded, even for a Saturday night. Cloudsdale pegasi certainly knew how to have a good time.
Lightning sighed, the soft orange light of the chandeliers washing over her half-open eyes as she mulled over her broken dreams of stardom.
She could have been so much more.
She cursed her former Washout teammates, and Rainbow Dash, that brat.
Lightning had outraced her at every turn, she had the guts to do what needed to be done to win. Rainbow only cared about making friends. Why should a Wonderbolt need friends? She should be the Wonderbolt, Lightning reminded herself, and Rainbow Dash should be the one sitting here instead.
She laughed to herself.
Like she even thinks about me at all.
Lightning pawed at her eyelid, as the droning chatter of the crowd melted into an ear-splitting cacophony.
“I don’t believe it,” came a voice from behind Lightning in the crowd.
Lightning assumed the pony was talking to somepony else, until she stuck herself on the stool right beside Lightning.
“Hey, Lightning Dust! It’s Fleetfoot! You remember me?” the pegasus asked, waving a hoof in front of Lightning’s face.
Lightning eyed down the pegasus, who had an arctic blue coat and a light gray mane.
“No,” Lightning lied, turning back to her empty glass.
“Corkscrew! ” Lightning called out to the bartender, who was busy scrubbing down the bar farther down. She glanced down at her glass, to his disbelief.
“You were lucky I let you have that! You’re done, Dust.”
“J-Just a water then?” Lightning asked, before nearly falling out of her chair.
Corkscrew, despite his reservations, knew Lightning as one of his best customers, and so he gave into her demands, pouring her a small glass of water.
It couldn’t hurt, he thought.
“Thanks,” Lightning muttered.
“Look at you. You’re a mess,” Fleetfoot said, pitifully, “All that talk, all that flare, and for what? You’re at rock bottom, kid.”
Lightning, who was already dizzy and confused as to where she was, could only hear the malicious tone in Fleetfoot’s voice, and understood that she would have to defend herself.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Lightning spat.
Fleetfoot scoffed.
“I know you used to think you would be a superstar. I’ve seen you here before, but I never said anything, because I felt bad for you. But then, I remembered what a jerk you always were, and-”
“And what? What else have you got to say?” Lightning said, turning around to face down Fleetfoot directly.
Fleetfoot smirked, as if she had been waiting for permission to continue.
“And you’re pathetic. But you make for a good punchline, I guess you're not good for nothing, after all,” Fleetfoot said, grinning as Lightning turned red in the face.
Fleetfoot expected some snarky reply, but what she got instead was a hoof swinging towards her face.
Blood and two teeth sprayed out into the crowd, and Fleetfoot collapsed to the ground in a heap, her lights having gone out for a second.
But Lightning wasn’t finished yet, pouncing forwards and proceeding to wail on Fleetfoot, who was defenseless as she endured a barrage of unbalanced hits.
The crowd was egging them on at this point, eager for a good show.
Fleetfoot managed to shove Lightning off of her, which only prompted the enraged, drunken pegasus to grab her glass of water and chuck it straight for Fleetfoot’s nose, breaking the glass into pieces and sending Fleetfoot back down to the ground.
“You...bitch!” Fleetfoot yelled, holding onto her bleeding nose.
"There's your punchline," Lightning growled, waiting for Fleetfoot to try and stand up again before running back towards her.
This time, however, she was stopped by a pony in the crowd, who hastily pulled her away from the wounded Fleetfoot.
“Let go of me!” Lightning screamed, as the pony with his front leg around her neck dragged her out from the bar, whose patrons were as rowdy as they had been all night. Some had made quick bets on a victor, which were paid to the sound of cheers.
"Get your grubby hooves off me!" Lightning wailed, before she hit the cloud sidewalk, where she struggled to stand up without falling back down.
“You’re in big trouble, miss,” said the pony who had grabbed a hold of her.
She gave him a questionable look, answered when he flashed a silver badge from his jacket pocket.
He was a policepony, who had previously been enjoying a night-off until Lightning had to go and spoil his evening.
The officer felt sympathy for her, though, as he too had seen her in that bar before.
But, unfortunately for Lightning Dust, sympathy would not spare her a trip in the policepony’s carriage.
Lightning barely had time to react, before she blacked out right in front of him. She landed face first in the cloud, where she could finally enjoy some peace in her dreams.
He found her to be quite odd.
The girl was completely out of breath, her eyes weary and her navy-blue dress caked in dirt and blood. Her black boots were layered in dust, and she was absolutely filthy.
“In here,” she said between gasps for air, turning abruptly on 23rd Street into a street corner cafe.
The pegasus shook his head in disbelief. The girl would be better off running to the police station, or back to her home. But he did not try to dissuade her, following along behind her.
At the front of the restaurant, the host appeared more concerned than angry, with how disheveled, filthy, and exhausted the girl seemed to be.
“....Are you alright?” the host asked.
“Table for two, please,” the girl asked.
The host stared at her, eventually deciding not to ask any prying questions.
He led the pair deeper into the restaurant, seating them in a booth opposite to the street window.
“And may I have a water too, please?” the girl asked.
“Certainly,” the host replied, before sauntering off to leave the two in peace.
The girl's eyes danced over to him.
“You saved my life,” the girl began, staring him dead in the eyes, "You must be very brave, or maybe plain stupid. Which is it?"
"Anypony would've done the same thing," the pegasus said.
He glanced at the window, unsure whether here was a wise place to camp out.
"But they didn't. You did," the girl said, "Most ponies only like to help when helping means helping themselves. Or maybe you thought I'd pay you back somehow, is that it?"
The pegasus laughed.
"It wasn't me who got hit with the pipe," the pegasus replied, "You should see yourself. You look like you've climbed out of a pigsty."
"Might be I did," she smirked, "But the pigs want me back, y'see. In Manehattan, a friend one day is an enemy the next."
She was not particularly pretty, he thought, except for when she smiled. Her face seemed to light up each time she did. But those eyes - he was fixed on those eyes, those deep blue eyes of hers that seemed to glimmer back at him.
“I'm Brandy Bow,” the girl said, smiling from ear to ear, “Look, I really do owe you one. Those ponies would have killed me."
“What for?” the pegasus asked. He had half-a-mind to think this was all some elaborate hoax, one that might end with him stripped of his bits and left dead in a ditch. But in any case, he hadn't any better plans that day.
“...It’s a long story. I’m sorry to have dragged you along with me, it’s just...I was scared, is all. I haven’t got anypony to help me. I just need to stay somewhere safe for a little while. Just until I get out of this city,” Brandy said.
Her ears perked up, and she bent across the table towards him, again catching him off guard.
“How rude of me, I forgot to ask! Who do I owe the pleasure?” she inquired.
“I’m-” he began, before a pair of front hooves slammed onto their table.
Brandy and the stallion backed up into their seats, caught off guard by the sudden intrusion.
“Brandy,” said the intruding stallion, who had short black hair and a ghastly scar on his face. There were two more ponies behind him, crowding around the booth. “Look at that. You’ve made a friend.”
“Leave him out of this, Charcoal,” Brandy said.
“He should’ve left himself out of it,” Charcoal, the lead thug, said, rubbing the sore on his head where the stallion's pipe had made its acquaintance.
“You’re both coming with us. Now,” Charcoal said, gritting his teeth.
“We only just sat down. You might like the join us," the pegasus offered.
Charcoal lowered his face to meet at eye level, growling as he crept closer.
"Listen here, Blondie. Shutting that trap would go a long way, if you’d like to make the rest of your short life go by as painlessly as possible,” Charcoal said.
“I had thought a crack to the skull would be enough to keep a pony down for a while,” he said, standing up from the booth to stare down a bewildered Charcoal, "But I guess the thick-headed ones require twice the effort."
“What’s that?” Charcoal replied immediately, glancing back at his comrades, “That’s it, you little bastard, I’m gonna-” Charcoal began, raising his hoof in the air. But before the brawl could begin, Brandy managed to grab a hold of his leg.
“Charcoal! Stop! Stop, I’m coming with you, see? Just leave him. I’m coming with you,” Brandy pleaded, sticking herself between them.
Charcoal sighed in disappointment, but decided it was not worth it anyway.
“Let’s go. I’ve had enough running around,” Charcoal muttered, aggressively grabbing Brandy by the hoof and pulling her behind him.
“You too, pal,” said one of the other thugs, shoving Blondie along with them, “The Boss is gonna tear you a new asshole.”
Brandy and Blondie were shoved inside an awaiting carriage parked outside the café with one of the thugs, while Charcoal and the other took the steering.
“I’ll get you out of this,” Brandy promised.
He was lost in her gaze for a moment, right before the carriage began to take off.
It didn’t make it far, however.
The first explosion was close enough to flip the entire carriage upside down. The second seemed to only hone in on where Charcoal was stationed. The black-haired stallion only managed one cry of pain before he was incinerated, while the other two thug ponies had already been blown to bits.
Blondie wasn’t sure whether he was alive at all, having been thrown out of the burning, upside-down carriage. He was lying on the sidewalk, besides some small withering flames, covered in ash and bruises from the tumble across the street.
He made out only the image of several ponies dressed in black rushing into the carriage and retrieving Brandy’s unconscious body, before he himself fell under the weight of his smoke-filled lungs. The black-suited ponies must have mistaken Blondie as dead, trotting right past him away from the smoking wreckage.
Passed-out in the street, he was oblivious as Brandy was carried off by those ponies, and pedestrians began to crowd around to inspect the scene.
She was gone.
She knew they weren’t much to work with, but they were all she had.
On her third day in the Hellhatch Maximum Security Prison, Starlight had finally gotten a chance to gather with Suri and Trixie in her cell. They had come together to discuss one thing:
Escape.
“There’s got to be an air duct...or something else we can crawl through,” Starlight suggested.
“Every vent is bolted shut. Got any other bright ideas?” Suri said.
Starlight’s reply was an exhausted frown.
“It’s nothing personal, 'kay?” Suri said, with little attempt to be genuine.
“We need a carriage. We wouldn’t make it far if we were just going to walk out through the snow," Trixie said, hopelessly, "We’d freeze to death before they’d catch up to us."
“Suri, they’ve got to have carriages that come up here every now and then, to deliver food and supplies?”
Suri nodded, half-heartedly.
“So all we need to do is find a way to a carriage,” Starlight said, "And we'd be able to last through the wasteland without starving or freezing."
“Brilliant," Suri said, flatly, "And who exactly is going to pull the carriage?"
“We'd take turns," Starlight supposed, leaving Suri dissatisfied, "We'd have to work together. Nopony's ever tried it that way, I figure that why's nopony's ever made it out."
“Um, Starlight, how are we supposed to just steal a whole carriage?” Trixie asked.
Starlight took a moment to think, while Suri groaned and decided to clue them both in.
“Hellhatch is a factory, prison, businessplace, military compound, all in one. They send those delivery carriages here sometimes, with troops or food and things. The problem isn't getting a carriage, it's getting to the yard where they keep them,” Suri said, "It's on the other side of the compound, closed off to us by nine steel gates. That's what the trouble is."
“And getting these restraints off,” Trixie groaned, pulling at the metal inhibitor ring locked around her horn.
“Yes, they’re certainly not very fashionable. And nopony on the outside will want to help a bunch of ponies stuck in chains and dressed like convicts,” Suri said, tugging at her orange uniform.
“Have you got any friends out there who can help us?” Starlight asked.
Suri hesitated, and awkwardly shook her head, turning her head away as if to shield herself from Starlight’s eyes.
“Don’t you? You’re a princess’ pupil after all?” Suri countered, aggressively.
“I don't know who I can trust anymore," Starlight said, considering that anyone of her former friends could be compromised. "And Twilight Sparkle’s no friend of mine. The sooner I can get out of here, the sooner she’ll regret leaving me alive at all.”
“I’d like to second that.”
Starlight, Suri, and Trixie all swiveled their heads to face the opened door of the cell, where a yellow-coated unicorn was leaning, chewing on a fresh, juicy green apple.
“Sunset?” Starlight began, “I thought you were out.”
Suri’s eyes widened in terror. She nervously backing away from Sunset, as did Trixie, while Starlight held her ground.
“I guess I was. Then I thought of how furious I'd be, if you somehow got out of here and killed Twilight before I got to,” Sunset said, approaching Starlight.
Starlight wasn’t sure she intended to go so far as to want to kill Twilight, however if playing along meant winning Sunset Shimmer as an ally, Starlight could stand bending her moral foundations ever so slightly.
Starlight nodded, smiling deviously.
“This is Suri, and...you’ve already met Trixie.”
“Hey, Hoofdini, sorry about giving you a hard time earlier,” Sunset said, though Trixie was not sure she was serious. Suri and Trixie shared a skeptical look, unwilling to trust a pony as dreadful as #192119.
“Sunset, do you know any way to get to the carriage yard?” Starlight asked, “Or where they keep the keys to these locks?”
“The carriage yard?" Sunset laughed, "If I knew, I’d be long gone already. That’s on the east side, far off from where inmates are allowed to go. The keys, though, I do know. All cuff locks are the same, but the unicorn horn locks and pegasus wing locks are each unique. All the keys are kept with the good-and-honorable warden, hidden in some drawer in his office,” Sunset said.
“Steel Shackle is the last pony we should be messing with,” Suri said.
“Attempted escape is a death sentence anyway. If we do this, we’re going to have to go for broke,” Sunset supposed.
“Then tomorrow, let’s meet again here. We’ll figure out the best way to get to where we need to go for this to work,” Starlight said.
Trixie was still reluctant about their chances, but supposed she had little to look forward to otherwise, wasting away in the factory.
Starlight smiled, seeing promise in the group. Her hope was unbroken, and her desire for vengeance was powerful enough to drive her towards whatever end.
These chains would not hold her down.
Over the mountains of the north, the moon lit the snow-covered fields of Yakyakistan, tucked away from the borders of Equestria.
“But your majesty, your life in danger,” said the personal attendant to the great Prince Rutherford, as he ravaged his meal at the Great Hall feast table.
“This beast,” Rutherford bellowed, gulping down a thick mug of ale, “It not dare march past mountains to yak lands.”
The attendant shook his head in frustration, but the stubborn prince could not be swayed, even after hours of pressure to hide somewhere safe.
News of the massacre in Ponyville had covertly reached the royal administration, courtesy of Amity Stiletto, who had been sent to warn Rutherford that his life was at risk.
Amity, who had been permitted a room in the royal yak halls, was still unable to get any sleep. Whoever this monster was, they would likely be too powerful for even the strongest yak warrior. And Amity herself knew she would not stand a chance should she have to face down such a foe. And so she hid beneath her blanket, trembling at every creaking floorboard or whisper in the dark.
She had pleaded with Rutherford already, begging him to go into hiding, or flee to the capital, or at the very least, double his security. But the yak would not heed her. He enjoyed the show she put on, at least, telling tales of gore vengeance and bloodthirsty phantoms. Amity could not return to headquarters with Rutherford's blood on her hooves, but she could not contest his authority, nor his iron will, no matter how misguided she found it. At the very least, he might have information for her.
"If one seeks bloodshed, they will find it. Maybe sooner than they would like," the prince had told her, "Bronze pony lived by the sword. So he died by the sword."
"Did he have many enemies?" Amity replied.
"Surrounded by them, Bronze pony thought. Told me this, many times," Rutherford said, "Time for change, he said to me last. I will never know what he meant. He died same day."
There was a sadness in the yak's eyes, and Amity was hesitant to press him any further.
"And so maybe he really was surrounded, yes. They came for him, as he feared. He fought and he lost," Rutherford snorted, "If the southern sun had not made me ill, I may have joined him. But this is not the south, girl. I, Rutherford, son of Aguillard, fear no southron killer. I am the son of kings. I will not surrender so meekly."
That would be the end of the argument, Amity discovered, before she was confined to her chamber.
Amity kept a sleepless vigil, there in the mountain halls of Dagh Yak, shuddering to the sounds of slippery shadows and howling winds.
Meanwhile, Rutherford retired to his bedchamber. Two armed yak soldiers stood guard outside the doors, a meager effort to soothe Amity's soft heart, though it would hardly suffice against any potential beast after his head.
But before he could even make it beneath the covers, he froze, when his ears picked up on some bizarre grunting and struggling from the other side of his bedchamber door.
The bizarre noises abruptly stopped with a snapping sound, and Rutherford only understood what was happening when a puddle of red blood began to spill beneath the door crack into his room.
His breaths drew short, and he rose from his bed with a mighty force behind him. He refused to call for help, nor attempt to escape. He would face down this enemy who sought him dead, and he would be victorious, for a yak lord could never be defeated in his own home country.
The bedroom door was ripped from its hinges, and before Rutherford could even make out who was standing behind it, a blast of fire screeched through the air, swallowing the yak prince and burning him to ash in a flare of screams and crackling.
Twilight Sparkle gazed down at what was left of the prince, four smoking stumps of his legs where the fire hadn’t touched.
She scoffed at his failed attempt at resistance, and made her way towards the window to take flight and escape.
And as she soared into the night, she could hear the screams of the yaks discovering her actions. And she did not smile, nor relish in the bloodshed. She merely flew on beneath the light of the moon, a restless specter in the dark.
Even the fiercest flames were vulnerable to the unforgiving cold of the Frozen North. Trixie Lulamoon was chiefly among them.
By the look in her eyes and her half-concealments, Starlight was beginning to notice her friend slipping beyond the edge.
They were together for the moment, in Starlight’s own Cell #323 of the Hellhatch Penitentiary.
There, Trixie faced those damning steel bars, which held no biases nor regrets, only an incorruptible conviction in their so-called justice. And justice had been dealt, Trixie knew it, and there would be no evading the stout rule of law.
And beside the bars was Starlight’s bottom bunk, where Trixie chose to sink into, pressed deeper by her physical exhaustion that clawed at her like some aching beast.
She was weeping dry tears, facing away from the others to prevent them from reveling in the gratifying sight of her shame. The Great and Powerful Trixie, locked up like a zoo animal.
On the other side of the cell, Starlight, Sunset, and Suri were huddled together, gathered over a large scrap of parchment. Trixie could just barely hear their subdued muttering, watching from afar as they pointed at a variety of scribblings, penned in ink made in a toilet bowl that morning.
Trixie kept her doubts to herself, not seeking to disrupt whatever momentum the others had generated. She merely hung back on the cot, keeping watch from behind the bars.
Suri and Sunset, using their combined knowledge of the facility layout, had been able to sketch up a rudimentary map of the complex, sparing in detail but priceless nonetheless.
They had found fortune in a brief leisure period, allowing them to roam about their quarters. A perfect time to meet, Starlight thought.
“Look, right here. This is it,” Starlight said, confidently, planting her hoof down on a marked corridor on the map, “This passage connects to the east side, it runs right to the carriage yard.”
Suri scoffed.
“My apologies for bursting your bubble, Starlight, but that is a maintenance tunnel. It runs underground,” Suri snarled, as if Starlight should have known better, “It is quite inaccessible.”
“How? It connects to the laundry room, and I work there, so I can get us in.”
“You don’t get it, 'kay? That passage is bolted shut," Suri smugly explained, "Only ponies with the right clearance can get inside there."
“Batty tried that way a few weeks ago, she got inside there somehow. We tried to talk her out of it. You know what happened to her?” Sunset asked.
“I heard they put her in the hole,” Suri replied, with a ghastly recoil.
“The hole?! She wishes she only got the hole," Sunset said, "I saw what was left of her. Shredded to bits, cut up and crushed like she was stuffed in a meat grinder. There are security traps inside those maintenance tunnels, and they’re deadly,”
Suri gulped.
“Let’s not give up on it yet. There might be a way,” Starlight insisted.
Suri sighed, still unconvinced.
“OK, say we miraculously make it through all that. What then? We would have to get above ground at some point.”
“I’ve got a plan for that. But let’s slow things down first. If this is going to work, we’ll probably have to split up. One of us will have to find the keys to our locks, otherwise we won’t make it far if we run into trouble. Another will have to make some sort of distraction to keep everypony’s attention away from us. And the other two will have to take that passage, find where the carriage yard is, and set off something explosive to get above ground,” Starlight said, having spent all of the past few days settling on the basic plan for their great escape.
Trixie leaned her head in from the cot, mildly alarmed.
“You want us to blow a hole in the wall?” Suri repeated, shocked.
“Well yeah. The ice and dirt will be too thick to dig through.” Starlight said.
“I like it,” Sunset admitted, with a devious grin.
“Hm. Well, if neither of you have noticed, nopony exactly has any grenades lying around,” Suri retorted.
“...I could get some stuff from the factory to make one,” Trixie announced, unexpectedly joining the others in the huddle, “I'm world-renowned for my fireworks, you know.”
Starlight and Trixie shared a smile.
“I may be able to get some chemicals from the kitchen that can help,” Suri added.
“Alright. See what you can do. I’m going to go check out that passage, find out everything I can,” Starlight said.
“Right,” Sunset muttered, glancing off away from Starlight’s contagious eager glow.
Sunset and Suri were seemingly content with the group's progress that day, before having to report to the kitchen and mailroom, respectively.
Starlight, however, made an effort to block Trixie’s path before she could exit from the opened cell door.
“Hey, are you alright?” Starlight asked.
Trixie ignored her, and attempted to walk past her, though Starlight refused to budge.
“Trixie.” "Does it look like I’m alright?” Trixie scowled. Working in the factory had certainly taken a toll on Trixie, both physically and mentally. Starlight was grateful she was only stuck in the laundromat.
“Trixie, I promise you, we’re going to get out of here. And we’re going to make her pay,” Starlight said, venomously.
“And what if we don’t? What if we’re stuck here?” Trixie said, “...Nopony will ever hear from me again. And I’ll have gone out as the bad guy...”
She turned away from Starlight, ashamed, rubbing her eyes before the tears could even arrive. She had long begged the world for mercy, with little success. There was a guilt inside her, for her prideful wrongdoings of years past, for how her arrogance had blinded her to the hearts and minds of those around her. And though she believed she had grown from the pony she used to be, the past seemed to still want even. To be granted peace, Trixie thought, she very well may not live to see it.
“Don’t say that,” Starlight said, frustrated, “It’s just stress getting the better of you.”
“No, it’s not just that, Starlight, I’m serious. Look at me!” Trixie said, swiveling around to face Starlight, “No matter how hard I’ve tried, I’m always just a joke to everypony. I’m not...I’m not a hero like you. Everypony thinks I'm bad. But I'm trying so hard to be good. And I thought I was getting things right lately, but...l end up here anyways. All I ever did was come up short,” Trixie said, sighing, “Maybe I do belong here.”
Trixie fled from the cell door, a blue wave drowning her hopes and dragging them to the depths.
Starlight's face darkened.
She would escape this hell, with Trixie beside her, she was sure of it. She could not rest, not for a moment.
She still had unfinished business.
Rarity was not in the mood for company.
Moving into Canterlot was a difficult choice. But despite knowing she would be distanced from her friends, her career had to come first. The sun had set on her past compromises; now her grander aspirations could be fulfilled.
Nevertheless, she feared she had made the wrong choice.
Her old life was left behind in the dust of Ponyville, and she had to ask herself whether she even deserved to keep her friends any longer, knowing she had abandoned them. They might hate her forever, she told herself, and even if they did not, they would not look at her the same anymore.
Interrupting her unpacking, Rarity was begrudged to hear a familiar knocking on her new studio apartment door.
“That better not be who I think it is,” Rarity muttered to her beloved cat, Opal, who was perched in her miniature bed near the window.
Swinging open the door, Rarity’s fears were confirmed, in the form of three smiling faces.
“Rainbow Dash, Pinkie, Fluttershy, what are you doing here?” Rarity asked, sighing in despair.
Rainbow took it upon herself to fly past Rarity into the apartment, examining each piece of furniture and decorative plant.
“Nice place,” Rainbow said, excitedly.
“Oh, please, come inside,” Rarity scoffed at Rainbow’s rude entrance.
“Sorry if we were interrupting something...Um, we just wanted to see you,” Fluttershy said.
Rarity’s hardened exterior softened, as she struggled to hold onto her imaginary grudge.
“Rarity! A lot of ponies thought you were missing!” Pinkie exclaimed, rushing past Fluttershy inside the apartment. She produced a clunky polaroid camera and stole a quick photo of a baffled Rarity, who had to awkwardly watch as the photo printed off from the camera slot.
“Now we have proof that we’ve found you!” Pinkie said, smiling from ear to ear.
“Yes, I suppose you have,” Rarity muttered, turning away from the others.
She landed beside Fluttershy and Pinkie, all anxiously awaiting Rarity’s answer.
“It seems as though I am. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner...I just don’t like goodbyes, is all,” Rarity said.
The other three, expectedly, were all stunned, and Pinkie’s unbreakable smile had even fallen from her face.
“...Look, whatever you’ve got to do, you’ve got to do. We’ll always be there for you, no matter what,” Rainbow said, firmly.
“We can always visit you,” Fluttershy added.
“Yeah...Yeah! We could come every weekend! Or-or I could visit you on every other day of the week, and then Rainbow, Fluttershy, and Applejack could come every other other day, and-” Pinkie rambled.
Rarity laughed away the beginnings of a tear, and took a deep breath, realizing that she might not have to worry about leaving her friends behind after all. Friends like these could not be lost so easily.
“You have no idea how relieved I am, I thought you’d be rightfully cross with me,” Rarity said.
“Is Sweetie alright with it all?” Rainbow asked.
“...We’ve been talking about it, and if she really wants to go back to Ponyville, Applejack offered to let her stay at Apple Acres...Where is Applejack?” Rarity asked.
“Apple emergency,” Pinkie promptly replied.
“Hm. Understandable,” Rarity said, “I don’t want to force Sweetie to follow me wherever the wind takes me.”
“Have you talked to Twilight?” Rainbow asked.
Rarity was confused, as if the question itself was absolutely ridiculous.
“Certainly not. Nopony’s spoken to Twilight for days, I’m afraid. She’s quite busy lately. There’s some sort of situation going on, though it's all rather mysterious,” Rarity explained.
“Oh, I hope things haven’t been too much for her,” Fluttershy said.
Down the winding marble halls of the Canterlot palace, Princess Cadance found herself short of breath by the time she arrived at the white oak wooden doors of the royal hall.
Despite how familiar she was with the palace, Cadance struggled to keep her bearing with each successive story and sharp corridor turn. The dizzying spiral staircases and familiar blank-faced statues were all but hidden blurs as she crept through the sunlit palace.
But before she could stroll through those doors, she found herself checking behind her shoulder, wary of the distant whispers that echoed through the old stone walls of the luxurious castle.
Once she was certain she was alone, Cadance threw open the doors in a fist of electric blue magic.
“Twilight?”
Twilight had been expecting Cadance’s arrival, patiently rooted atop the lonely white marble throne at the end of the royal hall. The morning sun glanced through the outriding stained glass. Cadance passed through shades of green, yellow, red, rushing across the hall as the doors shut behind her.
“Cadance!” Twilight exclaimed, beaming in excitement, “What are you doing here?”
Cadance continued towards Twilight, whose whose face was soured by fatigue.
“I came as fast as I could, Twilight,” Cadance said as she approached the throne, “Yesterday, some ponies showed up at the Crystal Empire, they warned me that there was trouble going on. That my life could be in danger. I thought you might need my help.”
Cadance arrived before Twilight, who had descended down to the second-to-last step of the throne, “...Are you OK? You look exhausted,” Cadance said.
Twilight sighed, her brief moment of joy retreating back beneath a pit of anguish.
“Twilight, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”
For once, Twilight was struggling to articulate herself. Beyond the particular requirements for her deception, explaining the situation in its entirety was a feat on its own.
“I only found out about everything two days ago. Some ponies from the Erased showed up here, they-”
“The who?” Cadance asked, already confused.
“The Erased. You’d know them better as the Royal Emergency Service.”
Cadance scoffed in disbelief, struggling to withhold her laughter.
“Monster hunters?” Cadance replied, skeptically, “That agency was dissolved. Ever since that Tartarus escape fiasco.”
“I thought so too. But before I took over from Celestia, she let me in on a little secret. She believed the agency might still have some use for Equestria, so she permitted them to continue their work. Under the condition that their identities be wiped away, that every record of their existence is erased.”
“Celestia never told me that,” Cadance said.
“They’re top secret. They’re the rats in the corners of the room, watching us, and they’ve got eyes everywhere...They were the ones who warned you,” Twilight said.
“And what exactly was it they were warning me of?” Cadance asked.
Twilight cleared her throat.
“In the past three days, there have been eight murders. Thorax, Rutherford, the dragon empress, the hippogriff queen, Posh, Filibuster, and Bronze Beam. And Prince Blueblood. They’re all dead.”
“Murdered?” Cadance repeated, shocked, “Why? Who by?”
“We’re trying to figure that out...This is serious, Cadance. For all we know, the two of us could be next on the assassin's list.”
“Twilight, I have to get back to the Crystal Empire...I have to tell Shining, and Flurry, I have to be with her, I-....” Cadance stammered, beginning to panic, “Who else knows about this?”
“Everypony will, in less than an hour. It's leaked to the press, they’ll be running it on every newspaper and radio in no time. We can’t keep it under wraps forever."
“And then what? Thorax? The dragon empress? They’ve got thousands of subjects who are going to want answers, answers they deserve, and we haven’t got any?!” Cadance demanded, "Our friendship with those kingdoms was fragile already, we needed Thorax and Ember to keep the peace. What now?"
“We’ll be doing everything we can to prevent any more of an incident. I’m sure that’s what the killer wants. We need cooler heads to prevail,” Twilight said, offering a comforting hoof to Cadance’s shoulder.
Cadance noticed a spark in Twilight’s eyes, that for some strange reason made her uncertain for a moment. She backed away from Twilight’s gesture, as a hundred different thoughts intersected in her mind.
“I’ve got to get back,” Cadance said, trembling.
Twilight nodded in approval, allowing Cadance to turn around and trot out towards the oaken doors.
Cadance was paranoid, and she hated the thought that any creature would suffer a terrible death, especially ones she could consider friends. She rarely even thought of death, considering her prolonged alicorn life span. It pained her to think of how her loved ones might perish before her; now those dreadful concerns were coming to life.
Once those doors were closed, and Twilight was by her lonesome in her royal chamber, her anxious expression dissipated, replaced instead by the subtlest of smiles.
They were all right where she wanted them, she thought, and they all still had but the slightest idea.
For hours each day, she was folding, stacking, and cleaning clothes by hoof.
There was no joy to be had in the bleak darkness of the laundromat, only the sweat and tears of its unfortunate laborers.
Starlight had never once spoken to any of her miserable coworkers, all of whom wanted absolutely nothing to do with each other.
But on this particular day, Starlight was to break her silence streak.
Her soft-blue eyes locked onto the entry point to the passage she had spotted on the map: a large dark metal vault door with a keypad beside it. The door was locked shut, and without the keypad code, any hope of escape would be futile.
Still, Starlight persisted in seeking out a closer look. But for her reconnaissance plan to succeed without incident, she would be in need of assistance.
She had not spoken to the earth pony with the curly green hair since her first day working, though compared to the rest of the irritable prisoners Starlight worked alongside, that earth pony was the best candidate for an unprompted accomplice.
Starlight found the pony at Station #37, just as the laundromat began to empty around lunchtime.
She was a short pony, unimposing and frail. Her head was hung low, and she had an admittedly pretty face hidden behind her curly locks of hair. She was pale like a ghost, and she appeared fragile like glass. In the sea of misery that was Hellhatch, she was more or less the poster child.
“Hey,” Starlight muttered, gingerly stepping beside the pony.
The pony made little attempt to acknowledge her, save for a disinterested side-eye.
“I’m Starlight Glimmer. And you?” Starlight asked.
“...Uh, Wallflower Blush,” the pony muttered, suspicious of what Starlight wanted from her. She was not particularly accustomed to ponies going out of their way to speak to her.
“Wallflower, great to meet you,” Starlight said, “Look, I’ve got to be honest with you, I need your help.”
Wallflower eyed her up and down, after finishing her last set of laundry.
“Um...with what?”
“I just need you to stand by that door,” Starlight said, checking to make sure the guard had already left the laundromat, “And let me know if anypony is coming. Can you do that?”
“...Uh, why?” Wallflower asked, raising an eyebrow.
“...I just need to check something. Without any guards looking over my shoulder. If I get caught, I won’t tell them you were helping me,” Starlight said, glancing around the emptied laundromat to ensure they were alone. The guards had filed out along with the prisoners, failing to notice the two ponies lingering behind.
Wallflower bit her lip as she pondered the risks of helping this strange pink unicorn.
“...Ok, I’ll do it. I don’t know what you’re up to, but you better be careful,” Wallflower said. She was rarely asked for favors, and though Starlight’s instructions baffled her, she was unwilling to pass up on the invitation to join in.
“Oh, thank you!” Starlight cried in relief.
While Wallflower awkwardly took her post by the door to make sure the coast was clear, Starlight zipped around a stopped conveyor belt to reach the passage door, examining it for any weak spots.
There was a small window in the door, through which Starlight could see inside the dark passage beyond.
She could make out the tips of some sharp-edged razors waiting to spring out from the walls of the corridor, some mechanical contraption made for the sole purpose of exterminating ponies as efficiently as possible.
Starlight sighed, admitting to herself that this passage may be too risky to depend on for their one-time shot at escape.
Starlight frantically swiveled her head, not sure which way was her best bet for getting out of there.
“Hide over there,” Wallflower said, pointing at the lockers by the corner. Starlight understood, springing towards the benches next to the locker and hiding behind them.
Wallflower, meanwhile, was left to handle the guard, who was storming right towards her.
“Wallflower,” the guard said, smirking, “You always manage to slip away under my nose, don’t you…”
“I had to finish up the load the others left. You remember what the forepony did last time we left a mess,” Wallflower replied, showing no sign of fear towards the guard, who she knew as Fuchs. She would not consider him a friend, but as far as guards went, he was the closest bet. He was a cerulean earth pony with navy blue hair, and at the moment, he was amused by Wallflower’s dryly-delivered excuse.
“Oh I do…” he said, “Just keep yourself out of trouble, y'hear?”
“I won’t be starting today,” she replied with a smile.
Fuchs began to turn away, though a part of him remained skeptical of whether Wallflower was telling the truth.
He was gone within a minute, allowing Wallflower to find Starlight behind the bench, and relieve her with a safety-affirming smile.
“Thanks,” Starlight said, wiping some dust off her jumpsuit.
“We’re lucky it was just him, and not somepony who likes to ask questions,” Wallflower said, “So...what exactly are you up to?”
Starlight was still hesitant, though given she owed Wallflower for the help, she decided she would just have to trust her.
“Don’t tell anypony this, but...me and a few others, we’re planning-”
“An escape? I knew it,” Wallflower said, shaking her head in disappointment, “Sorry to say, in the brief time I’ve known you, I thought you were smarter than that.”
“Yeah, well the plan’s not going to work anyway, unless we find a way through that passage,” Starlight said, pointing at the vault.
“Oh, I know that route. Weeks ago, Batty tried to bust through, and she got-”
“Shredded to bits. I know.” Starlight sighed, acknowledging that she had her work cut out for her. “Well, even if it never happens...We should be friends,” Starlight said. Wallflower was frozen for a moment. “I, uh...I don't exactly do friends."
Starlight was not sure if she was serious, but regardless she maintained her welcoming smile. “Then allow me to be the first.” Starlight said, extending her hoof.
Wallflower hesitated, but eventually gave in and shook Starlight’s hoof. A strange sensation shot itself through her heart, and she felt lighter than air. A smile painted itself across her face, and with hope it would last longer than it did in dreams.
Later that day, Starlight was confident her second attempt at earning a job at the prison library would be more successful than the first.
Her efforts would not be rewarded that day, however.
A series of shaking heads and a few strokes of red ink from the Prison Board of Appeals left Starlight destitute in the hallway yet again.
Her hope was waning, impaired by complication after complication, failure after failure. She hated to sit around and mope, though at that moment there seemed to be little else to do.
“You must be the one they’ve been talking about.”
In the central hallway of the fourth-story where Starlight was grieving her second rejection, she was startled by a guard approaching her from behind. His voice was familiar, as that of the guard who had spoken with Wallflower earlier during that close call in the laundromat.
“Sorry if I caught you at a bad time,” Fuchs said, backing up once he noticed Starlight’s miserable expression.
“No, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Starlight Glimmer, right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Starlight replied, though she found it strange he had called her by anything other than “Traitor,” as all the other guards had settled on.
“I’m Fuchs. Mind telling me what brings you up here? Usually it's ponies petitioning for an execution exemption. I sure hope that’s not the case. We wouldn’t want those looks going to waste,” he grinned.
Though Starlight was inclined to storm off in response to his gesture, she stood her ground. Unlike the unwanted advances made by her squirrely cell-block chief, Stewball, Fuchs presented her with an opportunity to take quick advantage of.
It wouldn’t be too difficult to play along either, given he was far less gruesome on the eyes in comparison to a ghoulish pony like Stewball.
Starlight was no expert in the art of seduction, though she tried her best, with hopes of gaining an ally on the other side of the guard-inmate divide.
“I only wanted to work a weekly shift at the library. This is the second time they’ve said no,” Starlight explained, “I used to work at a library, is all. If I got the chance here, it might feel like home a little.”
Fuchs nodded, sympathetic towards her struggle.
“Those skeletons on the board are finicky folks. But they’re not immune to persuasion,” he said.
“You’d really help me?” Starlight asked, batting her eyelashes and tilting her head to the side.
“Let’s say you owe me one,” Fuchs smirked.
Starlight gifted him a sweet smile, before trotting off towards the staircase.
If her plan worked, she would owe him more than one.
Blondie awoke with a gasp for breath, finding himself tightly bound in chains to an uncomfortable wooden chair.
His nerves were getting the better of him; his head was pounding and he was unable to think straight.
His mind ran in circles, while he wrestled against the chains without success.
Memories began to flood back into his mind: he remembered that strange girl, and the burly black-haired stallion. He remembered the carriage too, and the sudden rush of fire and dust that had thrown him ten yards across the street.
But he could remember nothing else, and for all he knew, the explosion had already killed him, and he was awaiting some halo-sporting spirit to deliver some unfortunate news regarding his post-mortem destination.
Left to face judgment in the blackness, his bewilderment ignited once more when a creaking door swung open from fifteen feet directly in front of him.
“Rise and shine.”
Blondie squinted into the blinding light pouring out from the doorway, until his eyes finally adjusted.
Standing beneath the doorpost was a heavy-headed stallion unicorn, blue-grey in color with navy blue hair cut short. The stallion was stuffed in a suit and tie, and reeked of sweat.
Blondie fidgeted with the chains, growling some curses under his breath.
The stallion ignored him, stepping out of the way to allow a second figure to waltz inside the room.
The second stallion was a unicorn the color of gold, with jet black hair and a sickly, twisted grin. He was also dressed in a well-fitting suit, with a crimson red tie. His gaze was narrow and forceful; with the slightest glance Blondie was already on alert.
The yellow unicorn clicked his hoof against the tile floor, signaling the other pony to flip a switch by the door.
A dim fluorescent light came on from above, illuminating what appeared to be a rundown office. The white tiles and walls were covered in dirt and scum.
The yellow unicorn gifted Blondie with a courteous smile, before taking his seat at the wooden table that sat between them.
Blondie watched as the unicorn reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a box of cigarettes and a lighter, sticking one in his mouth and setting it ablaze. He huffed in the smoke a few times, before taking a long, considerate breath.
“And you?” he asked, raising the box of cigarettes.
Blondie nodded, allowing the unicorn to stick one in his mouth and set it alight. He glanced to the blue-haired unicorn posted behind him, “Anvil, close that door, would you?”
Anvil complied with the order, while the yellow unicorn shifted his attention back to Blondie.
"I'm Crozer," the pony introduced, with a golden grin, staring daggers into Blondie's eyes, "You took quite a fall, friend. But even if nothing's working up there no more, I'm gonna need you to speak up for me."
Blondie glanced at the burly stallion by the door, who was grinning, like a dog waiting for permission to pounce.
"I woke up this morning, had a cup of coffee, read the Manehattan Times. Terrible flood down in New Haven, that's a tragedy. But what's worse, is when I hear the newest bit of bad news from the war front. That a very good friend of mine, a friend who did four years for my father when he could've spilled left and right, a friend who never asked twice about finishing a job, has wound up blown to pieces on North Avenue," Crozer said.
Blondie narrowed his eyes.
"There wasn't much left of poor Charcoal. But we did find the moron's head lying on the sidewalk. Not too far from where we found you, some two-bit street-teether taking a nap in the asphalt."
Blondie remained as he was, unphased, while Crozer's eyes flashed red.
"Are you some kind of mute? I'm talking to you, asshole, so say something. Or I'll make you regret it."
Blondie sighed, taking his time to cough up a reply.
"Your friend was a toothless meat-head. Couldn't handle one little girl."
“A girl you say?” Crozer said, and his eyes lit up with surprise. He sat back down in his chair, pacing his hooves on the table.
“Brandy,” Anvil muttered.
“Of course," Crozer said, "Charcoal had one job. It’s good he’s dead, I would’ve had to kill the nut-brained ogre myself if I found out he got outdone by this myopic pegasus jackass here. Good riddance." Crozer spat the ground.
“What do you want from her?” Blondie demanded.
“What are you supposed to be? Her knight in shining armor?" Crozer said, "Until all too recently, she was one of us,” Crozer said.
“And who might us? be?”
Crozer glanced back at Anvil, amused.
“We're the Black Hoof. And unlike you, boy, we're not quite as partial to that pig-snouted brat Brandy's tricks and seductions,” Crozer smirked, “She’s a murdering, lying, conniving bitch, and she cannot be trusted.”
“She ran away from us,” Anvil explained, “And we need her back.”
“What for?” Blondie asked.
“Why release a parasite back into the wild? And besides, she has something we need,” Crozer said.
“What’s that? Toothpaste?"
Crozer bore a yellow, toothy grin.
“Last week. We had an arrangement with a pair of ponies from the capital. A royal scientist, and a pegasus royal guard. Can't trust a pegasus, never could. And the scientist, he was high-strung, afraid to get dirty. Never liked him, not from the start. A real pair, they were. Two rogues running from the capital with a dastardly plan to get rich, and do it quick. The arrangement was for five-hundred grand, and in exchange, a briefcase. A very, very valuable briefcase.”
“Sounds like they were ripping you off," Blondie remarked.
“I guarantee you, it was a bargain. Or it would have been, if that scheming pegasus guard rat hadn’t sold us out. See, he made a second deal with the Underground. We met altogether, all at once. The pegasus thought we'd all kill each other, you see, and he'd be able to walk off with the five-hundred grand from us and another five-hundred grand from them. Pegasus scum. Never got the chance to bash his brains in, like I meant to. The cowardly cocksucker flew off in a hurry when I came running for him. Hawkbit, that was his name. Feathered fucker."
“...You're tied up with the Underground?” Blondie asked, familiar with Manehattan’s most infamous criminal organization.
“You’ve heard of ‘em. That sort of defeats the meaning of the name, don’t it,” Anvil said.
“There was chaos, when it happened. The Underground almost got their slimy hooves on the briefcase," Crozer said, "But the scientist, the only pony in the world who knew how to open it...he was shot to pieces during the scramble. And before he died, he went out of his way to leave his secret with just one other…”
“...Brandy,” Blondie guessed.
“Without her, the case is useless. The Underground’s been trying to catch her, so have we, ever since she ran off.”
“And why did she do a thing like that?” Blondie asked, skeptically.
“Why does it matter to you, Blondie?” Crozer said, aggressively, “We would have had her back already, if you hadn't intervened. Now the Underground's got her, and we've got ourselves a bit of a stand-off....Now as far as I can tell, your role here can only be explained by one of two possibilities. One: you’re a pinhead cop with a deathwish, sticking his nose in some foul rot he’d be better off walking past. Or two: you’re with the Underground, and you’re just a damn good actor playing the fool. What’s your thinking, Anvil?”
“The rat bastard’s a real Brando alright,” Anvil said, spitting at the filthy floor.
Crozer flashed his toothy grin, adjusting his suit and checking the clock.
“Either way...You’ve fallen down the rabbit hole, Blondie...And this hole, you cannot climb your way out of.”
“This isn't my business," Blondie said, "I’m not a cop. Do I look like a fucking cop?"
Anvil slammed his hoof across Blondie’s face, knocking a back tooth loose and persuading some blood to trickle out from his nose.
“Anvil, remedy me," Crozer cooed, "Poke those pretty green eyes out. Let's see how pretty Brandy finds him then.”
Blondie thrashed in his restraints again, as Anvil repeatedly swatted him across the face with his hoof.
“I'm not a cop, I can prove it,” Blondie said, gasping for breath. His face was pulp; red and purple.
“Prove it?! You’d have me believe you’re just a witless worm working with a bad habit of falling into unfortunate twists?” Crozer laughed, sticking himself right in Blondie’s face.
“I don’t know nothing about you, or your Black Hoof goons, or Brandy Bow. I was only with the broad for an hour!”
Crozer narrowed his eyes, noticing Blondie’s strained expression when mentioning Brandy.
“Ah, you care about her. The girl's got talents, I won't deny her that. Only took her an hour to make a sucker out of you. Maybe when I finally find out where the Underground's got her, I’ll let those lowlives on Jungian Way tear to her pieces, loosen her up for you,” Crozer said, cackling to himself.
Blondie struggled to keep himself from lashing out, which he knew was all Crozer wanted out of him.
“Slow down a minute, let me set something straight...Now if I was a cop, which I'm not, but if I was, you think they’d just leave me out to dry on the street after that carriage went and crumbled down in flames? And even if this was some elaborate trick, they would have come pounding on that door by now! I’m by myself, and I’m not a cop.”
“That’s a good point, boss,” Anvil said.
“You keep your mouth shut, Anvil,” Crozer said. “You’ll do anything to get out of this alive, won’t you Blondie. Here’s some news then. The only way you’re possibly walking those filthy streets a free stallion once more, is when I’ve rung out any ounce of decency left inside you. I don’t trust you. Who would?”
“She trusts me," Blondie said, "I could get her back from the Underground, I could help you."
“Help us? There are quicker ways to die. Anvil can think of a few," Crozer grinned.
“What's worth more to you? My life or the briefcase? I could get her back, and get her to open it for you,” Blondie said. He lied through his teeth, though Crozer gave no hint of noticing.
Crozer scoffed, glancing at Anvil as if to validate his disbelief.
“This kid’s got sand. That’s not something I tend to smile upon. I think you're a liar. I think you'll set her free the second you get, and kill us all to be safe....But we’re in desperate times, and perhaps I'm too suspicious. And you, Blondie...you, we may just have use for.”
Crozer nodded his head, finalizing his decision.
“Ok, loverboy, have it your way. I don’t gotta kill you, so I won’t. I’d like to see how far your little performance works to your advantage. For the hell of it,” Crozer said, smiling as he nodded towards Anvil to cut the chains.
“I’ve got a job for you to do, with old Salt. You do it well, I’ll be more inclined not to hang you off the Arbory Dock.”
When Blondie was free, he sprung to his hooves, but made no move to attack his captors. He still had no idea where he really was, and if Crozer was telling the truth of his criminal ties, Blondie would have to be careful not to make any more lasting enemies.
Equestria was lost to shadow.
Across every town, from the bustling streets of Canterlot to the nameless villages in the south, not a smiling face could be found.
The news had spread like a fire through a brittle wood. Equestria’s heroes had been slain.
In the Badlands, the dragons were, expectedly, having difficulty withholding themselves from declaring war on somebody. Anybody. A Dragon Lord had not been murdered since the wars of old, and naturally the ponies were a plausible culprit.
Yet the ponies were grieving the same; the deaths of the Captain of the Royal Guard, Treasury Secretary, and Senate Speaker were distressing to all who had the misfortune of reading the newspaper that fateful day.
The yaks, hippogriffs, and changelings had all sent their ambassadors to Canterlot, both to mourn at the public funeral and to investigate the mysterious circumstances of their leaders’ deaths. The dragons, naturally, stubbornly refused to attend. A summit was to be held to choose a new emperor; the dragons were too furious to waste time mourning.
The service was held at the Canterlot palace gardens, on an overcast morning. The summer breeze whistled through empty streets and rustled the Equestrian flags hanging from the tops of glass spires. Over seven-hundred creatures were in attendance, somberly hanging their heads before the eight caskets lined up by the courtyard square.
Twilight Sparkle, who appeared as devastated and exhausted as everypony else, was a sight for the sore eyes of a grieving nation.
Twilight gazed upon the crowd; she saw creatures of all kinds, weeping or else staring at the ground despondently.
She saw her friends, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, and Rarity, all weary from the strife set suddenly by the pain of grief.
She addressed the crowd of withered hearts and crippled hope, who looked up as though to her their very lives depended.
“I want you all to know, I feel this pain as much as you,” Twilight began, struggling to concentrate, “I have devoted my life to protecting Equestria. Fought against shapeshifting monsters, giant sharp-toothed beasts, terrors from the depths of the sea. But those acts will forever pale in comparison to the achievements our friends have made in their lifetimes. Without them, we would not have the peace we cherish today. They were the reason our world endured free of war, of hardship. Today, we have lost some of the greatest heroes to walk among us. Ember...Thorax...Novo...Paramount...Filibuster...Bronze Beam....Rutherford...Blueblood, they were my friends,” Twilight said, wavering over her own grief, “I have faith that they were true to the very end.”
The crowd was still, and all ears were open as Twilight spoke, her calm, firmly-delivered words descending down into the whole of the city.
“But they will not have left us in vain, I promise you that. Their memory will be kept alive, in the inspiration they have left us. And perhaps new heroes will arise, to follow their example. I know the future appears dark, and I know you are afraid. But I promise you this: I will not allow whoever is behind this to undermine the peace our friends have worked so hard to protect. There will be justice. And I ask you to trust me, to lead you all against the challenges that lay ahead of us. Equestria will survive. We will survive.”
Twilight stepped down from the podium deck, and stood idly by as the service continued into the afternoon.
The caskets of Novo, Rutherford, and Thorax were given to the hippogriffs, yaks, and changelings, respectively, to bury according to their own traditions. The caskets were all empty, as there were no bodies to be buried.
Ember’s casket was to be delivered to the Badlands to the dragons, alongside an emissary requesting unlikely peace negotiations.
And the rest of the bodies, that of Paramount, Blueblood, Bronze Beam, and Filibuster, were buried in the Canterlot Royal Cemetery, concluding with a smaller service consisting only of family and close friends.
Twilight was present to see those caskets be submerged beneath the ground. She stifled a sigh of relief, and she no longer feared their miraculous resurrection and testament against her treachery.
“Your highness.”
Promptly after the service, Twilight was disgruntled to have her mournful silence in the dreary cemetery be broken by the gruff gravelly voice of a grizzly griffin.
“Gore,” Twilight said, recognizing the griffin detective from some past adventures.
“Touching eulogy,” Gore said, nodding his head respectfully, though Twilight took it as facetious.
“I’ve much else to attend to, forgive me,” Twilight said, inching to turn away.
“I only wanted to speak briefly, forgive me,” he said.
Twilight froze, finding herself bound to tolerate his prying, if only to reduce her attributed suspicions.
“Are you making me a part of your investigation? Is that what this is?” Twilight asked, irritated.
“The investigation is Alias’. I’m only working with him.”
“Alias?” Twilight repeated, recognizing the name, “What a pity. I thought you were better than that.”
“So did I. But these happen to be strange times.”
“If you want information, I’m sorry to say I don’t have much.”
"You're far too humble, your highness. Two of your councillors - General Stegwig and Ms. Cat O'Nine - both of them submitted their resignations this morning. Why was that?"
Twilight eyed him. How could he have known that?
"The past 24 hours have taken a terrible toll on all of us. They lost their colleagues, their friends. I would not be surprised if they blamed themselves somehow."
"Or perhaps they feared they would be next?" Gore supposed.
"It's certainly possible."
"You would agree the murders were politically motivated?"
"Without a doubt," Twilight agreed, "The killer meant to sow the seeds of chaos and confusion, to turn the kingdoms against each other. Who would benefit from that, I have no idea."
Gore studied her, hesitating.
"I trust you have a plan then, to keep the peace with the other kingdoms."
"I'm confident once we present a culprit, the dragons will be satiated," Twilight said, "What we need now is a common enemy."
“Alias believes the culprit has fled Equestria, that they’re already far across the Lunar Sea by now,” Gore said, to Twilight’s satisfaction.
“And what do you think?” Twilight asked.
“I think the perpetrator is not one to run away so quickly. Why should they, when they already have everyone fooled?”
The first drops of rain fell from the sky, and meanwhile Twilight was frozen in space.
“Let me know how your investigation goes, detective,” Twilight said, “I'm afraid I must be going.”
“As you wish, your highness,” Gore said, watching as Twilight stalked off into the mist.
She disappeared into the mist.
Gore, however, stood where he was, permitting himself to be drenched in the rain.
Nopony could ever quite get used to the cold.
Steel Shackle, the rigid-jawed warden of Hellhatch, often felt inclined to provide his prisoners with the occasional outside time, though his rationale was never truly understood.
Starlight was marched out through the gate, and passed by the warden, who was draped in a thick coat. She refused to cower down before his unflinching gaze; his eyes were like knives, and he would watch her trot all the way into the courtyard, until the front gate doors were shut and locked.
Starlight walked around the huddled packs of prisoners standing in the snowy courtyard, and found Suri, Sunset, and Trixie standing up on one of the inner courtyard walls. They were all shivering and gasping for breath in the paper-thin air.
They were glad to see Starlight, at least until they noticed she had brought company.
“Guys, this is Wallflower,” Starlight said, stepping out of the way to make room for the green earth pony hiding behind her.
It was an exceedingly difficult task locating Wallflower in the crowded cafeteria during lunch that day, though Starlight refused to leave the team’s newest addition behind.
Not everyone would share that sentiment, however.
“Sorry. Five’s a crowd,” Sunset said, flatly.
“Agreed,” Suri added.
Starlight glanced at Trixie, who only remained silent.
“We need all the help we can get,” Starlight argued, ignoring Suri and Sunset.
“I’ve never seen you around before,” Sunset said, retreating behind her icy glare.
Wallflower gave her a confused look.
“I’ve been with you in the delivery patrol since May,” Wallflower said, dryly. Sunset drew a blank, failing to recognize the pony.
“Whatever. Starlight, is the laundromat door thing possible?” Trixie asked.
“Looks like no,” Starlight replied, somberly.
“Back to the drawing board,” Sunset muttered.
“Perhaps now would be a good time to talk about the carriage part of this plan, OK?” Suri asked.
“We're going to steal a carriage?” Wallflower asked.
“Yeah. Not that you’ll be on it,” Sunset said, venomously.
“Somepony’s going to have to pull it. We could have her do it,” Suri posited.
“Not gonna happen. Look at her, she’s weak, out of shape. She won’t make it far,” Sunset said, gazing off from the battlement wall out at the snowy void beyond.
Wallflower glanced down at herself and shrunk down in shame, gently rubbing her front leg as if to comfort herself.
“Leave her be," Starlight said, "I was thinking we could put on a disguise, just blend in and drive out."
“They’ve got magical retinal scans, keypad verifications, card scanners. And the guards know all the drivers,” Sunset dismissed.
“So when we take a truck, we’ll have to be going out non-discreetly,” Trixie said.
“I thought the grenade part was already pretty non-discreet,” Suri said.
“A carriage may not even be there when you get to the yard. It’s a huge risk,” Wallflower said, hoping to contribute.
“Hey, nopony asked you, alright?” Sunset barked.
“Sorry,” Wallflower said, sheepishly.
“Look. I’ve got a plan for the carriage, just let me worry about it,” Starlight said.
“What, you don’t trust us?” Sunset said.
“I don’t want you to worry, is all. I’ll handle it,” Starlight said, confidently.
“Uh-huh. You’ll handle it, right. And who elected you leader again?” Sunset asked, "I've been here a lot longer than you, Starlight. So stop acting like you know better."
“She’s got more sense than you ever will,” Trixie said.
“She’s not the one having the mental breakdown,” Suri snarled at Trixie’s expense, “I know you've got a few screws loose, Glimmer, but this plan of yours is suicide.”
“Would you both stop?! You have no idea what Starlight is capable of! As long as I’ve known her, she never, ever gives up. I don’t know if we’ll ever get out of here. But she’s willing to risk her life for us. What are you willing to do?” Trixie said.
“That's touching. But more importantly,” Sunset said, “We’ve still got a big problem to solve - finding a passage that leads to the carriage yard,” Sunset said.
“We have one, but there’s no way through. We'll all be shredded as soon as we step inside,” Suri said, dismissively.
“That’s not true,” Wallflower said, again risking Sunset’s wrath.
Starlight, along with everypony else, all glanced over at Wallflower, skeptically.
“I noticed it when Batty tried,” Wallflower began, “I was on shift that day, in the laundry room. I saw her...well, you know. The point is that there’s about a five second delay between when the alert activates and when the traps come springing out.”
“A five-second window?” Sunset repeated, suddenly interested in what Wallflower had to say.
“Five seconds, max. Count on less," Wallflower confirmed.
“Every other passage to the yard is locked off and covered in guards," Starlight reminded, "That passage is our only hope."
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think any of us can run through that entire tunnel in less than five seconds. You'd have to be the fastest pony in Equestria!” Trixie exclaimed.
There was a silence, until Sunset at last came to a sudden realization.
“Would the second fastest do?”
The following day, Sunset and Starlight sat together at lunch, examining the line of sultry inmates marching to receive their daily slop.
“When did she get here?” Starlight asked.
“Just the other day. She’s a troublemaker apparently. You two've got that in common,” Sunset said.
“She’s fast?”
“A lot of stories floating around. Former Wonderbolt. Stunt flyer. The kid could be exactly what we need,” Sunset said.
“I thought five was a crowd. How’s six any better?” Starlight asked.
“I don’t like the looks of that pony you brought, that's all,” Sunset said.
“We’ll talk about this later. That’s her, right?” Starlight said, pointing at a turquoise pegasus dragging her hooves in the lunchline.
“Yep,” Sunset said, as she and Starlight rose from their table in unison.
Lightning Dust had not spoken a word to anypony since she awoke en route to the Frozen North. She was still escaping a hangover, and truthfully could not even remember what she had done to be arrested.
Though judging by the cruelty of the Hellhatch prison, she figured her transgressions must have been absolutely unforgivable.
She received no trial, not even an explanation of her sentence.
She was officially two days sober, though not by choice, and she was left a sluggish wreck. She was stuck working in the mines, striking at rock all day, living off of a single measly wad of bread for days to a time. But for dinner that day, she was gifted with a cafeteria visit. And though she loathed the cafeteria food as much as anypony else, still she was hot with anticipation.
“Hey, birdie,” grumbled a bulky stallion from behind her in line. He was an inmate also, a miner the same as her. He had only been approved to eat in the females’ dinner time due to late hours returning from the pit. Lightning had noticed he had been staring at her often throughout the day, and at the very sound of his voice she had her guard up.
“I think I want to get to know you better,” he growled, aggressively grabbing her by the shoulder.
Lightning gave little thought to it, when she kicked her hind legs back with full force into the stallion’s chest, shattering a few ribs and sending him crashing to the ground in a heap.
He howled in agony, while Lightning continued on through the food line, without even turning back.
“I hope that’s not how you always say hello.”
Lightning had been taken by surprise again, when a pink unicorn inmate sprang up right beside her in line.
“You haven’t been here very long, have you kid?” asked another pony appearing on Lightning’s left, a yellow unicorn with a sinister grin.
“...Just a few days,” Lightning replied, hesitant as to whether she would have to brawl with any more ponies that day, "What's it to you?"
“We’re not looking for a fight, relax. We think you’d make a good fit, for a little gamble we’re pulling,” Starlight said.
Lightning glanced between them, confused.
"What are you getting at?"
“An escape. How do you like the sound of that?” Sunset asked.
Lightning was absolutely perplexed.
"Look, this isn't my first rodeo. I'm getting out of here soon anyway, and I fly solo. Sorry," Lightning said.
"This isn't some minimum-security tin can you're stuck in. This is Hellhatch," Sunset said.
"The only way out is with help. You're gonna need us. And we need you," Starlight said.
“...Why me?”
“We need somepony with speed. That's you, right?” Sunset asked.
Lightning scoffed, amused by the uncertainty in Sunset's voice.
"There's only one pegasus even fast enough to get near me," Lightning grinned.
Starlight glanced at Sunset.
"Humble, too."
"You know a way out of here?" Lightning asked, eagerly.
Starlight smiled, nodded her head.
Lightning smiled back, and shook each pony's hoof, heartily.
“Welcome to the team.”
He had little idea what he had gotten himself into.
Blondie figured he was in a former office building, transformed into a den of thieves, thugs, and crooks of all sorts, all working under the same banner.
Black Hoof
He was unfamiliar with the name, though by the looks of their well-supplied armory of weapons, magical and non-magical alike, he figured he would need his wits about him for the time being.
Blondie was brought by the broad-shouldered earth pony Anvil to a garage towards the front of the building, where he noticed a giant of a stallion waiting by a parked taxi carriage.
“Hey, big guy. You’re a go,” Anvil said, grinning.
“Who’s your little friend?” asked the giant.
“Your new partner,” Anvil said, “And listen, he’s on thin ice. If he tries to run, kill him. If he calls for help, kill him. Boss’ orders. You know the job.”
“The poor devil looks in need of a warm bed and a mare. Why not set him free?” the giant asked.
“Because there’s a good chance he’s a cop, is why. Keep your eyes on him, and get this all over with. We’ve got bigger problems at the moment anyways,” Anvil said.
“Brandy?”
“Yeah. Blondie here is in love with her, I bet.”
The giant nodded, turning to face a bludgeoned, disgruntled Blondie.
Anvil left the two alone in the garage, right as the front door began to creak open upwards. Light flooded the garage, though Blondie was protected behind the shadow of the giant’s immense build. He had a grey beard and an eagle’s eyes. He was called Salt Shaker.
“Right. Walk this way with me. We’re scheduled for an appointment exactly in…” the giant said, pausing to check a watch strapped around his hoof, “Twenty minutes.”
Blondie followed the giant into the street outside the opened garage, which he recognized as 57th Avenue. He made a mental note, hoping to find some way to locate and rescue Brandy, wherever she was.
“You must be the unluckiest pony in Equestria,” the giant said, turning to trot down the sidewalk.
Blondie caught up, too spiteful of his predicament to do much other than scowl in dismay.
“It certainly seems that way,” Blondie muttered.
“I once had a bad streak of luck, the same as you. I'd lost everything. Everyone. It’s true what they say, the desperate will do whatever they can to survive. Do things they never dreamed they could.”
“I didn't ask for a lecture," Blondie growled.
"Well, you've gotten one," Salt laughed.
"Save your breath. The second I get the chance, I’m out of here,” Blondie said, "I'm only doing this to get a chance to free the girl, and then myself."
“Don’t be so hasty. You try and run now, I would have to kill you. I don’t want to, but I’d have to. In this city, there’s no place that we won’t find you.”
Blondie sighed, hoping the giant was mistaken.
"You talk well for a hired killer.”
The giant laughed aloud, and his eyes widened with a terrifying enthusiasm.
“It just so happens to be my job. My trade is corpses. An employer, take for instance, the Black Hoof, places a bounty on a pony’s head. I hunt that pony, I find that pony, I kill that pony.”
“You kill ponies, and you get paid for that?” Blondie asked, feigning naivety.
“...Certain ponies, yes.”
“Do they at least have it coming?”
“Almost always.”
“Is that where we're going? On our way to kill somebody?”
The giant shook his head.
“No. You're joining me today only to collect a package that is owed to the good Mr. Crozer.”
“The briefcase?” Blondie wondered.
“The briefcase? No need, it’s safe and sound with the others as we speak. This here is a lesser assignment, to recover a shipment of savory substances.”
The giant glanced down at Blondie, skeptically.
“...I didn't know poor Brandy was entangled with a devil like yourself.”
Blondie glared at him.
"It's not like that. She's too young for me."
"And yet, you carelessly throw your life away to rescue her," Salt laughed, "Only a stallion in love does such a thing."
"They were beating her bloody in broad daylight. I couldn't have done nothing. And she's still in danger, so....What do you know? She and me, we....We've only just met, anyway."
“A shame, it may have been the last time," Salt Shaker said, “...But before you go on about your silver-tongued passions, I must interrupt,” the giant said, coming to a stop in front of an apartment on 33rd Street.
“We're here.”
The apartment building was in shambles, its walls riddled with bullets and caked in mold, its air hot and musky.
The giant entered the lobby with Blondie trailing behind, and together they rounded up two flights of stairs.
“These sorts of situations are rarely pleasant. I beg, let me do the talking. Stay calm and collected. And be ready for anything,” the giant warned, trotting down the hallway of the third floor. He glanced at his watch.
“We’ve still got five minutes,” the giant said, nodding for them to hang back.
Blondie and the giant retreated towards the staircase railing, listening to some muffled domestic arguments and shrieking cats from the other rooms below.
“I never said I was in love with her," Blondie said, "I just wanted to save her from a bad death.”
“An admirable quest. I hope she lives. I don’t like to see ponies die.”
“That's rich, with your line of work”
“We're paid for what we do well, I am afraid. And, despite my due reservations, this has become my craft. Like a smith hammers steel, I draw blood."
“You’re a mercenary at heart, though?" Blondie mused.
The giant hesitated, before leaning into his amused grin.
“If you mean to raise my stake against the good Mr. Crozer, I pity you. That is an enemy I do not wish to make, Blondie.”
Blondie turned away from the giant, frustrated.
"You chose to be the hero, to save the damsel in distress, if one can dare call that vicious little creature Brandy Bow a damsel," Salt considered, "And you find yourself biding time in the lion's den, looking for some escape. But sometimes the only way up is down, Blondie."
Blondie glanced at him.
"I'm no hero," he muttered.
Salt laughed a hearty laugh.
"Then you ought to fit right in with us," he smiled, “...Enough of your melodrama, Blondie. Now it is time.”
Blondie and the giant approached the fourth door down from the stairs, numbered #304.
The giant hammered a thundering knock on the door, waking up anypony that happened to be sleeping in a seven-door radius.
The door opened almost immediately, revealing a lanky, polished pegasus stallion with shaky eyes and a resting half-smile.
“Mr. Salt, it’s so good to see y-you, come in, please, come in,” the pegasus said, stepping out of the way to allow the giant inside.
“I’m sorry things are a mess. I know I missed the date. I know I could have contacted you beforehoof, I just...I guess it slipped my mind! I only wanted to-”
"You might have taken the basic courtesy of making this pig sty presentable, prior to a transaction where your life and livelihood are of concern," Salt said, glaring at the untidy living room, "Or maybe they don't teach you that, over at that proud university you attend. What was it called?"
"Er, er, Coltumbia, Mr. Salt. Coltumbia."
"Precious," Salt said, "Allow me to welcome you to the real world. Presentation is everything. And what you've told me so far, before you had to say a word, is that you do not respect the trade, nor the ponies I work for, nor myself for that matter."
Blondie hung back by the door. The giant spoke strangely, both gently and with a dangerous kind of cruelty.
“No, of course we-” the polished pegasus tried to say.
“The truth is, I knew this about you already," Salt said, "As does Mr. Crozer. You’ve managed to be late not once but twice now. Mr. Crozer had some ideas for what to do with you. I talked him out of those ideas. But now I'm not so sure. So I’ll ask you once. Will you ever be late again?”
The lanky pegasus glanced back at the other two ponies in the room, a blue unicorn with long hair and a boorish pegasus with slackjaw.
“No. We won’t be late. I swear to Celestia, this is the last time," the polished pegasus said.
The giant smiled and nodded.
“I see. Then go on, go get what’s owed to me.”
The pegasus scrambled around towards the kitchen, where a black case was waiting.
“Honestly I don’t know how this even happened. I mean, we really thought we had-”
While the lanky pegasus’ back was turned, his series of excuses were cut short by the blade of a steak knife tearing through the front of his neck.
Salt Shaker, the giant, was standing behind the lanky pegasus, knife in hoof, waiting for the blood to drain from his victim’s neck, before tossing the corpse to the side.
“....You son of a bitch!” yelled the unicorn, who promptly ignited his horn.
Salt Shaker deployed a smaller knife from his belt, and threw it at the boorish pegasus standing by the case in the kitchen. The knife planted itself squarely in his forehead, sending the pony tumbling backwards, crashing into every single pot and pan left sitting atop the kitchen counter.
“Blondie! The package!” Salt Shaker yelled, right before the unicorn fired a deadly beam of magic in his direction.
Salt Shaker dove out of the way, missing the flaming beam of energy that set fire to the window curtains nearby.
He retrieved a small hoof-held mechanical contraption from a holster on his waist, pulling back the device’s hammer.
“Die you motherf-!” bellowed the unicorn, before Salt Shaker dove out from behind the overturned couch and fired four shots from his weapon in rapid succession. The device fired magical bullets with a single press of a trigger. Two of them hit their target, spinning the unicorn a full revolution, sending him collapsing to the floor in a pool of splattered blood.
Fire was spreading fast across the hardwood of the apartment room #304.
“Blondie! Time to go!” Salt Shaker instructed, grabbing the package from his hooves and heading towards the window with the fire escape outside.
Blondie followed him towards the window, but stopped suddenly.
“What are you doing?” Salt Shaker asked, as he began his frantic descent down the fire escape, package in his front legs.
“I’ll be out in a second,” Blondie promised, before turning around to escape the carnage inside through the front door.
Blondie began in that hallway, knocking on every door relentlessly, yelling the same word over and over again.
“Fire! Fire!”
He continued upstairs, and then down to the remaining two levels below, until every resident was aware of the emergency.
Blondie ran out to meet Salt Shaker, gasping for breath as parts of the building began to collapse. Most of the ponies inside had escaped, save for an unlucky few.
“If you’re quite done, we really must be going.”
“That was calm and collected?!” Blondie stammered, relieved just to be alive.
Salt Shaker smirked.
Blondie shook his head in disbelief.
“Those ponies could have died! And for what!?”
“Mr. Crozer owns that building, he wanted it burned down, for the insurance payment.”
“You may tell yourself it’s alright killing powder-sniffing lowlives, but those are innocent ponies living in there!" Blondie exclaimed.
“I can hear sirens. Are you through?”
Blondie sighed and nodded, prompting Salt Shaker to begin escaping the scene. Ash fell from the sky like snow, and the smoke could be seen from all over the city. Blondie took one last look at the burning apartment building, trying his hardest to ignore the cries and wails of its now-displaced residents laying destitute on the sidewalk.
Headquarters were more of a mess than usual, and that was saying something.
Far beneath the heartbroken streets of Canterlot, leaning against the wall of a dimly lit elevator, Bandolier was nervously scratching at his beard.
The news of the attack had been broken, and the ensuing fallout had gone about as well as he had expected.
The elevator came to a stop at Floor -25, the lowest point in the Erased’s base of operations in Canterlot.
The doors opened to reveal a bustling commotion of ponies rushing back and forth and yelling at no one in particular.
The subterranean control room was filled to the brim with equipment, desks covered in reports, and ponies madly milling about. A flashing red light in the otherwise poorly lit room only added to the mayhem.
“Sir!”
Bandolier avoided being shoved by a belligerent agent storming past, right as Amity Stiletto’s voice came crying out from below, in the sunken command area in the center of the room.
Amity met him halfway down the short staircase leading to the sunken command area.
“Heels! When did you get back?” Bandolier asked.
“Just this morning...I’m sorry, sir,” Amity said, lowering her head, “ I thought everything was alright. I-I couldn't get him to listen. He-...He's-”
"I know," Bandolier said, reaching to wrap his foreleg around her. She buried her head against his shoulder and shut her eyes, "You did all you could for Rutherford, I know you did. None of this is on you. Do you hear me?"
Amity nodded her head, too ashamed for her tears to choke up a reply.
“Lieutenant.”
Bandolier raised his head to see Alias standing by a nearby projector screen, a typical stony scowl resting on his wrinkled face. Bandolier ushered Amity to scurry off, leaving him to confront Alias alone.
“It’s a shock you managed to show up today, nevermind that there’s an international incident. I suppose three hours late is early for you anyways," Alias said.
“Er, sorry, sir," Bandolier said, scratching at his beard.
Alias shook his head and sighed.
“You last told me that we haven’t got any leads. Well think again. I’ve got a task for you.”
Alias led a confused Bandolier over to a nearby table, where an opened file of a pink unicorn mare was waiting.
“This is Lady Lavender. She’s a second-cousin of Princess Cadance. The Lady of Silkwood, up in the Highlands. Wealthy beyond belief, engaged to the late Prince Blueblood. She was also an attendee of the ceremony at Ponyville."
“I know, I was the one who submitted her file to surveillance," Bandolier said.
Alias raised an eyebrow, suspiciously.
"Really? You? What made her stand out?" Alias asked.
“Gore and the analysts all agree the motive was political, given the choice in victims," Bandolier recalled, "Lavender here is a prime candidate for a future target of the killer. Wealthy, part-royal, influential. I thought I'd organize a private guard to keep her safe."
“No," Alias said, "I want you to go to her palace, and escort her back here to Canterlot.”
“Sir, Princess Twilight is already here in Canterlot. Why would we want all our potential targets in one place?” Bandolier asked.
“We can better protect her here than in her palace.”
Bandolier narrowed his eyes.
"Sir. You want to interrogate her. Is that it?" Bandolier asked, "...You think because of her proximity to Blueblood, she might have knowledge of why the murders took place?"
"Your job is to follow orders. Not question them," Alias said, sternly, "Is this were the royal guard, your contempt for authority would be grounds for a court martial."
Bandolier took Alias' refusal to answer as confirmation of his suspicions.
“Lucky me this isn't the royal guard...Sir, what about the Maretonians? The Saddle Arabians?” Bandolier asked, "Ice Mirror and Haakim were in attendance, just like Lavender. They're just as likely to be in danger."
“The Maretonians and the Saddle Arabians are beyond our borders. Lavender here has royal blood, Lieutenant. We can’t let anything happen to her,” Alias said, “I’m sending you with Flamberge, our spy in the royal guard. This is to be quick and without incident, Lieutenant. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Alias eyed him. He sighed, and his rigid brow seemed to soften.
"We don't know what we're up against," Alias confessed, "I need you to get your head out of the clouds and stick to the code, for once in your life. Ponies are dying, left and right. We must do all we can to contain the threat and find out what's going on."
"I understand, sir," Bandolier said, "I won't let you down."
Alias nodded his head, warily.
“Chief!” Amity interjected, having been eavesdropping nearby for sometime now, “If it’s no trouble, I want to come along too.”
Alias' eyes narrowed.
“You?" he scoffed, "Haven’t you done enough?”
“Sir," Bandolier said, "She did everything she could for the yak. And I wouldn't mind the extra support, and another companion on the road, as well. For some odd reason Flamberge has never been fond of me."
"I can't imagine why," Alias sighed, and muttered a surfeit of curses. “Fine, bring her along. Get her out of here, before you really strike a nerve.”
Bandolier nodded and turned to lead a starry-eyed Amity away from the irascible chief.
Meanwhile, four stories above the control center, a pony lay strapped to a slab of white, held alongside ten unfortunate others. Seven were already dead, the other three dangerously close. There was only one pony who resembled anything alive: a stallion, bearing a bright red coat and a spiky mahogany mane.
His eyes were strained by the fluorescent lighting, which had long replaced the sun. For eleven years, he had been trapped in this facility, wistfully fantasizing about what the real world looked like beyond those emotionless white walls. He remembered his name, Kickstart, though here he was only ever referred to by a series of meaningless numbers. He'd have to say it to himself in his head, hundreds of times a day, to keep from forgetting.
The experimentations forced upon him and his brothers and sisters in bondage were unquestionably cruel and unusual, and typically test subjects were not intended to survive. But he thought himself stronger than most, and at the very least, he refused to be broken down by the agents’ machinery and devices.
Always, he yearned for freedom.
And today just happened to be his chance.
The agents were in an utter frenzy about something today. He had no idea why. What he did know, is that they were distracted. More so than they had ever been before.
If there would ever be a chance, it had to be now.
He pulled his chains and locks taut, and with a simple twist of stolen scalpel he had been hiding in his mane for two years, he seized the opportunity he had been waiting for since his entrapment.
The lock clicked open, and he threw himself from the table, taking a moment for his muscles to get used to movement once more.
“Hey!” bellowed a portly scientist agent, right as he rounded the corner to the experimentations lab.
Kickstart dove straight for the agent, tackling him to the ground and cupping his hoof over the pony’s mouth. During the struggle, he located a defibrillator resting on a nearby shelf, and, without thinking twice, he retrieved it. Charging it with an anticipated trigger-hold, he ruthlessly smashed both ends of the defibrillator over the scientist’s head, sending sparks and smoke searing their way up into the air.
The scientist’s head fell flat against the floor, though his assailant did not check to see if he was alive. Instead, he quickly robbed the scientist of his lab coat and identification cards, before sneaking out of the laboratory, as subtle as possible. He disappeared into the bustling crowd of agents anxiously heading every which way, all oblivious.
The experimentation lab was silent for a half hour more, until another agent finally entered the room. Her scream echoed out through the entire facility, but by then, Kickstart was long gone already.
Lightning Dust dreaded having to return to the mines tomorrow. The scent of oil and tar ran true even then; inescapable. She tossed in her concrete bunk, her mind repeatedly slipping away into a blank suspension of thought. Occasionally a shiver would shake her alert, though in her dreary prison cell that she had all to herself, she strangely felt somewhat safe. There was no one to hurt her, or berate her, or judge her even. She had to laugh at herself, she thought, for briefly considering herself free to some extent.
Lightning had quickly discovered that she was likely the youngest inmate in the entire facility, a reputation of which rapidly garnered her a banquet of unwanted, often predatory attention. Nobody likes the new kid.
It could always be worse.
For most prisoners at Hellhatch, isolation was suffering. Lightning, however, felt as though she was right back at home. Her low-rate, cluttered, aging apartment in Cloudsdale was not much more spacious than her prison cell, and she had been living on her own for years now anyway. She recalled herself wrapped in a blanket in the freezing cold, endlessly mulling over whether she could bring herself to crawl back to her parents and beg them to let her stay with them.
No. You’re better than that. She would always talk herself out of it.
You’ll always be number one. No matter what they say.
Her self-gratifying voice kept her company in her head, while she embraced the lonesomeness.
Only, she was not completely alone. Close to an hour into her fruitless attempt at falling asleep, she was shocked to discover a small rat chewing on the leather of her boot.
Lightning shrieked and jumped up, slamming her head into the roof of the top bunk. She groaned and fell back down on her bed, shaking off the rat from her boot.
But the rat was persistent, and made for her shoe once again, and Lightning had to consider whether she could bring herself to do away with the problem permanently. She swatted it away once again, hoping it would wise up and leave her be.
Until, she noticed the rat approach her again from the darkness, this time carrying some chunks of food to and fro from a crack in the wall.
She was amazed, as the rat left her a pile of scraps, presumably for her to take.
She realized the rat was attempting to make a deal, and she promptly accepted, slipping out of one of her boots and leaving it for the rat to chew on. She greedily took the scraps, which were about as much as she got at dinner, and wolfed it all down.
“You’re a smart little guy, aren’t you,” Lightning muttered to the rat, who squeaked something in reply. Lightning snickered, amused by how greedily it was scampering down on the boot.
“Scampers. That’s what I’ll call you,” Lightning said, grinning.
“Making friends?”
Lightning’s cheeks burned red with embarrassment, turning away from Scampers and her boot to face the bars of her cell. On the other side stood a mildly-amused Sunset Shimmer.
“Come on, we need you,” Sunset said, impatiently.
Lightning glanced down at Scampers, affectionately petting the rat a few times before following Sunset out of her opened cell down the adjacent catwalk.
Lightning was brought to Cell #323, where she found four other ponies waiting around in silence.
“Everypony, this is Lightning Dust,” Sunset said, entering the cell alongside Lightning, “Lightning, you've met Starlight, and this is Suri, Trixie, and…uh...”
“Wallflower Blush,” Wallflower said, spitefully. She waved politely to Lightning.
“Right,” Sunset muttered.
“So you’re supposed to be fast, is that right?” Suri asked, skeptical.
“Fastest in all Equestria, thank you very much,” Lightning declared, smirking to herself.
“She'll do,” Sunset said, leading Lightning over to where they had laid out the parchment map, where Starlight was waiting.
“This passage here,” Starlight said, pointing at a scribble on the map, “We have to find a way to open it, but once we do, there’s only five seconds for you to fly through to the other side before the traps go off.”
“Wait, traps?” Lightning asked. “You didn’t say anything about traps.”
“I thought you did stunts, right? This is no different, and it’s the only way out of here,” Sunset said.
Lightning bit her lip, as if she had more to say but could not bring herself to speak up.
“OK…Yeah, uh, no problem,” Lightning said.
"Everything depends on her getting this right, and by the looks of her I'm thinking that's a mistake,” Suri spat.
“And what good are you for, huh? Whinging?” Lightning retorted.
“Um, sorry, now may not be the time, but-,” Wallflower interrupted.
“It’s not,” Sunset dismissed. “If there’s any pony we shouldn’t be trusting, I’d put my bits on her,” Sunset said, narrowing her eyes at Wallflower, “She might as well be wearing a badge, she’s got rat written all over her.”
“She’s alright, OK? You don’t have to be such a jerk,” Trixie said, irritated.
Sunset rolled her eyes.
“Now listen to me. This plan isn’t going to work unless we get those keys to our locks. Which you’ve been conveniently avoiding this whole time,” Sunset said, turning her attention towards Starlight.
“Well, first things first,” Trixie said.
“No, I’m sick of this. She keeps acting like she knows what she’s doing, but I don’t buy it,” Sunset said.
Lightning backed away slightly, removing herself from the developing hostilities.
“She’s just trying to get us out of here in one piece, OK?” Trixie stammered, though Sunset’s wicked glare stayed locked onto Starlight.
“Look, I know you’ve got it out for Twilight, and trust me, so do I. But you’re losing sight of the here and now. I’ve been around here a hell of a lot longer than you, so maybe listen to what I have to say.”
Starlight cut herself off before firing back, recognizing the futility of stoking Sunset’s flame.
"OK. Go ahead," Starlight said.
“We’ve got to get those keys, undo these locks. Then all we have to do is burn the whole place to the ground,” Sunset said.
“Sunset, we’re not hurting anypony unless we have to,” Starlight said.
Sunset sighed.
“Here’s a wake-up call, Starlight. Being a hero isn’t going to help you get out of here. It definitely didn’t help when Twilight abandoned you, did it?”
“Just because she did horrible things doesn’t mean we have to stoop to that level! We can still do the right thing. We can still try.”
Sunset snickered, glancing at the others in amusement.
“Newsflash. None of us are heroes. And sometimes you haven’t got a choice but to stoop to their level. What’s stopping you now?”
Starlight was speechless, though still unconvinced.
“How about we worry about all this after we have a plan,” Trixie said.
“A plan? It seems no plan will work. It’s hopeless,” Suri said.
“Uh, can I say something?” Wallflower attempted.
“No,” Sunset and Suri said at the same time.
“Guys, we’re going to make this work,” Starlight said, “And I’m not in charge as much as any one of you are. If we do this, we have to do it as a team. That means getting along.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow, unsure if Starlight was actually referring to her.
“If you’re too afraid to do what needs to be done, then I recommend taking a step back,” Sunset said, taking a single step towards Starlight.
“You may have bullied your way to the top inside these walls. But you can’t bully your way out of them,” Trixie said, sticking herself between Sunset and Starlight.
“Hey! Guys! Stop it, OK? This is getting us nowhere,” Starlight yelled.
Sunset scowled.
“Starlight, you’re going to get us killed. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m out of here,” Sunset said, scuffing her hoof against the ground and stomping out from the cell.
The others waited before speaking, a bit overwhelmed by Sunset’s explosive outburst.
“What I wanted to say,” Wallflower said, exhausted, “Is that I swiped a security card from a guard. He was sleeping at his post, and he didn’t notice me. I thought I’d take it.”
She revealed the card, to the others’ shock.
“This can get us inside the door to the passage,” Starlight said, amazed.
“Maybe you’re not useless after all,” Suri said, mildly impressed.
Starlight turned to Lightning, who had been silently waiting by the cell door.
“Are you still in?”
Lightning could not lie to herself that she feared their chances of success without Sunset’s help. But she supposed she better take the risk.
“Yeah. I’m still in.”
Starlight nodded, as a new spark caught flame within her.
They were going to get out of here.
“It’s far too dangerous.”
There was comfort to be had in the company of old friends. Yet to be deceiving them was a burden that exhausted Twilight, who was currently curled up in her velvet reading chair.
“Too dangerous?” Rainbow Dash repeated, raising an eyebrow, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“She's right, Rainbow Dash. I would very much like not to meet a ghastly end the same as the dearly departed,” Rarity countered, taking Twilight’s side.
Rainbow, Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Rarity had joined Twilight in her royal bedchamber that afternoon, supposedly to rationalize their ineluctably aching grief. But Rainbow was stubborn, and she already had her sights set on one thing and one thing only.
“We can’t let whoever did this get away with it! We’ve got to do something, we’ve got to find them!”
Twilight shook her head, though she did admire Rainbow’s efforts.
“I would never put any of you in harm’s way like that. This killer might be more dangerous than any foe we’ve ever faced.”
Rainbow scoffed, accepting the challenge without much hesitation.
“Add ‘em to the list. Look, Twilight, I know you have to be all protective and stuff, but this is serious. It was always up to us to save Equestria, and this time is no different!” Rainbow argued.
Twilight sighed.
“You’re right. It was always up to us. But this time it is different. If something were to happen to you, like what happened to Thorax and the others...I don’t know what I would do. I don’t want you to try it.”
“It does seem awfully dangerous, Rainbow,” Fluttershy added.
“I can’t believe you all! We can’t just stand by and let the perp run down their hit list! With or without you, I’m figuring this out, and putting a stop to it,” Rainbow proclaimed.
Twilight sighed, deciding that she could not quell Rainbow’s stubbornness.
But she could stall her.
“Alright. If you really want to go, I can’t stop you. I don’t know everything, but...there’s been rumblings in the intelligence department. It might be a criminal organization behind this all, based in Manehattan,” Twilight said, supposing a wild goose chase would do well to distract Rainbow from the true threat speaking to her presently. Manehattan would suffice. Far enough to keep Rainbow out of her mane, and corrupt enough to give her some dirty trails to follow.
“That’s all you had to say,” Rainbow said, smirking in anticipation.
“We’ll come along too!” Pinkie said, to Rainbow’s immediate approval.
“Fluttershy?” Rainbow asked, turning to the pink-haired pegasus.
“Oh...I don’t know...I guess so,” Fluttershy replied, gulping in fear.
“I would love to take part in your valiant crusade, Rainbow Dash," Rarity said, "I really would. But I have a business to run, and Sweetie is having just an awful time at her new school, and-.”
“It’s OK. I think we’ll be alright,” Rainbow said.
“Be careful out there. I’ll be doing everything I can here to set everything right,” Twilight said.
Rainbow nodded, before turning to leave the room with Fluttershy and Pinkie tagging along behind her.
Rarity decided she should better leave too, but came to a halt in the doorframe, turning her head back one last time.
“You don’t think they’ll be hurt, do you?” Rarity asked.
Twilight gently shook her head, her eyes wandering out towards the grey clouds that hung low out of her bedroom window.
“I would never let that happen," Twilight assured.
Rarity felt relieved, and took a deep breath, before she too left Twilight alone in her bedchamber.
Twilight rested her eyes, weary from days of little sleep and a prolonged performance. She meant what she had said, that all would be made right.
All she required was time.
Starlight was expecting good news, for the first time in what felt like years.
She had received a letter that night stamped with an emblem reading Prison Board of Appeals, in it containing a summoning order, effective immediately.
Starlight had practically leaped out of her bed, startling Suri above her, who was already winding down for the night.
The catwalks and hallways of the prison were emptier than usual; lights-out was approaching fast, though Starlight expected to be given special dispensation given the suddenness of the summoning.
A lengthy walk up several flights of stairs took her to the fourth story of the complex. There, she broke into a jog towards the Board of Appeals’ chamber door, swinging it open as politely as she was able.
A smile climbed its way onto her face, reaching from ear to ear, when she was given the news by the persnickety Board members, that her request for a part-time shift in the library had been approved.
“Thank you thank you thank you!”
She felt like crying almost; she was begrudged to have been doubting herself momentarily just hours prior. Her flame reignited, she trotted out of the room with her head held high, as if none of the terrors that lay in the earth below her hooves stood a chance against her.
“There’s the smile I was waiting for.”
Starlight swiveled her head around to find Fuchs leaning against the hallway outside. She stopped in her tracks, realizing that he had followed through on his word.
“I guess I do owe you one,” Starlight said, approaching him gracefully. He was taller than her, having to lower his head just to make proper eye contact.
“Don’t mention it.”
Starlight glanced at the floor, arguing in her head whether to ignore that searing red desire bubbling inside her heart.
Fuchs had not expected any dramatic acts of recompense, however, to Starlight’s relief.
“Would you allow me to walk you back? It’s easy to get lost this late, and the guards may think you’ve tried an escape,” Fuchs offered, "They'll find any excuse to give you a hard time, really."
Starlight resisted the inclination to confide in him the truth, that he had unwittingly aided in that very ambition: escape.
“Of course,” Starlight replied, graciously.
Fuchs beamed, leading her down the hallway she had come from.
They walked back down to the third level in relative silence, until they reached the catwalks extending towards her home prison cell, #23.
“Hey, if you ever need anything from me, anything at all, I’ll be around,” Fuchs said.
“You're something of an oddity here,” Starlight remarked.
“Most of these guards, they love to act tough. But picking on ponies in chains doesn't make you tough. Just because you’re done wrong shouldn’t mean you deserve to get treated like an animal,” Fuchs said.
“I imagine that way of thinking doesn’t make you popular,” Starlight said.
Fuchs snickered, and nodded his head, though he did not seem to mind.
Starlight hesitated, her head swaying side to side right underneath his.
“It’s quite late to be having a stroll.”
Starlight reeled her head back and spun around, to find Stewball, her lanky rat-faced block chief, staring daggers down at her and a wide-eyed Fuchs.
“You, Sergeant. Disappear before I have your neck spun backwards.”
Fuchs’ eyes darted towards Starlight, who was pale in the face, but he was helpless but to comply.
“Sorry, sir,” Fuchs replied, regretfully turning away to storm towards a nearby exit.
Once Stewball was sure Fuchs was gone, his scowl shifted into a grin. A devious, lustful, hideous grin.
“Lost little sheep,” he muttered, stalking towards Starlight with a heavy step, “Alone at last.”
“I should be getting back to my cell,” Starlight said.
“You ought to keep your lips shut. Come on...I know you’ve been wanting it. Craving it. You want out of here, don’t you? Well I can help you. I really can. All I need from you...” he said, creeping up until he was right on top of her.
Starlight jolted backwards, stumbling over her hooves in a failed attempt to turn around and sprint away. Stewball immediately took advantage of her clumsiness, grabbing her by one leg and sticking his other front hoof over her mouth, right as she began screaming.
“You like to play hard to get, don’t you? Traitor? That’s alright. I like that. We could have had an arrangement. But it doesn’t matter to me. You’re not going anywhere. And neither am I.”
Starlight screamed again, as he spun her around on her stomach, pinning her to the ground.
“Save your tears, traitor. I won’t be long. Promise.”
Starlight’s screams were barely muffled underneath Stewball’s hoof, as she thrashed and fought as hard as she could to break free of his grip, while he moved his entire weight on top of her.
But before she felt any coerced acts of sodomy levied against her, she was instead graced with the sound of splintering bone and a catastrophic ear-piercing screech.
Stewball suddenly fell off of Starlight, who immediately crawled away towards the railing of the catwalk, to safety.
She gasped for breath and wiped her eyes of tears, lifting her head to catch sight of Stewball lying on the ground in a bloody heap.
Sunset Shimmer was posted on the catwalk, a bloody mallet held taut in her hoof. Stewball’s back leg had been snapped back by the mallet, fragments of bones and bruised muscle tissue hanging free in the cold prison air. Stewball was screaming his lungs out, clawing at the catwalk railing, blinded by pain.
Sunset was not finished, however, proceeding to lift the mallet and swing it down directly into Stewball’s back, shattering two vertebrae and forcing a bloody dent into his flesh.
Stewball’s screams tripled in decibel, all while Sunset maintained a look of disgust.
She dropped the mallet to the ground, and lifted her front hoof to step on Stewball’s neck. He could no longer feel his legs, and was seeing stars floating back and forth under his eyelids.
Sunset applied pressure to his neck, suffocating him.
She only lifted her hoof once Stewball had lost consciousness, having finally decided she was through.
Sunset trotted around Stewball’s bloody, twitching body to where Starlight was lying, helping the horrified unicorn up to her hooves.
“Are you alright?” Sunset asked.
Starlight sniffled, and again wiped her eyes, unable to look away from Stewball’s battered body.
“Yeah…” Starlight quavered.
Sunset smiled, glad to hear it.
“I traded for this, a friend stole it from the factory,” Sunset said, tossing the mallet over the railing of the catwalk.
Sunset noticed the look of horror on Starlight’s face.
“It’s like I said. Sometimes we’ve got to stoop to their level.”
Starlight’s legs were trembling, and she could not bring herself to speak.
“I heard you got the job. Forget about what I said. I’m still in.”
Sunset left Starlight with a pat on the shoulder, before making her way towards the nearest exit.
Starlight stumbled away from the scene before any more guards came around, her entire body shaking.
If she was to ever escape here, she had to wonder what she might have to do, whether she would have to resort to such drastic, evil means, just to have justice for herself. Just to have her revenge. If she was to descend into those depths, how could she believe herself to be any better than Twilight, her enemy, her betrayer?
She dwelled on this dilemma as she curled into her bed that night, drifting asleep to the sound of distressed cries of alarm from the guards discovering Stewball’s tarnished body.
If there could be peace in Equestria once more, she knew it to be true, that justice must remain unbowed, that this world of evil must be burned away at the seams, and brought into the light again.
Darkness heaved itself into the sky, neon patches of stardust and rosy violets breathing life into the blackness. She wished that she could see in the dark.
Lightning Dust shivered on her cot, that was like a thin pane of ice.
She shut her eyes as tight as she could, but the pain refused to depart.
Along her back were twelve streaks of red, flayed strips of skin stretching the whole of her.
It was a miracle she had evaded having to go to the infirmary. That place resembled something more of a morgue.
The incident happened yesterday, during her typical drudgery in the subterranean mines of the Hellhatch facility. Down there in the dark, nothing dared move in the searchlights. Watchful eyes shone from the tops of wooden terraces, patrolling the red earth, filth and toil below.
She thought herself to be a rather insignificant inmate, able to pass beneath the watchful eyes of the guards without standing out.
She was mistaken.
She thought the comment went unheard, a derogatory remark made at a harassing guard’s expense.
But his ears were sharper than she thought. Twelve lashes with the barbed whip, right in front of everyone.
It was the humiliation more than anything else.
Recovering in her cell, Lightning’s rat acquaintance, Scampers, gifted her with some healing licks, though she was not sure of its effects.
It was the thought that counts, she imagined the rat retorting.
The cages locked onto her wings were beginning to tear deeper into her skin after extended use, and she yearned for the freedom to fly again.
Though she desperately needed rest for her mutilated back, fate had other plans.
“Hey kid,” whispered a voice from outside the cell, forty minutes until lights-out.
Lightning lifted her head from her cot, groggily.
Sunset Shimmer nodded for Lightning to follow her, and the injured pegasus was vexed to oblige.
The cells did not lock until lights-out, as inmates often had responsibilities that lasted into the waning hours of the day.
Sunset led Lightning towards an unfamiliar storage closet on the second level.
“How’s it unlocked?” Lightning whispered, nervously checking her shoulder for any lurking guards.
She had been punished enough for one day.
“Basket Case got a key somehow.”
Lightning supposed Sunset meant the curly-haired earth pony, Wallflower.
“I thought you were out?”
Sunset shook her head.
“I guess I couldn’t leave you all for dead,” Sunset muttered, just as she reached the door to the closet.
Inside, Lightning saw Suri, Starlight, Trixie, and Wallflower, all standing uncomfortably close to each other in the tight space. Cleaning supplies and boxes of junk filled the closet. Sunset shut the door behind them.
“Good, you’re here,” Starlight said.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Lightning replied, half-sarcastically.
“I got the job in the library,” Starlight announced, while Suri began fiddling with the locks attached to Lightning’s wing restraints.
“Starlight...you really think now is the time for intellectual stimulation?” Trixie said.
“I did it so I could pressure the library board into getting a new delivery of books. The delivery carriage won’t be familiar, we’ll have an easier time using it to escape than one of the regular carriages. It'll be just as well-supplied as any of the others. Plus, we’ll know exactly when it arrives.”
Suri tilted her head, slightly skeptical.
“When will it arrive?”
“Once I make the request - about ten days from now. Until then, we’ll have to hang on. Wallflower’s key will get us inside the laundromat passage, then Lightning will fly through the traps and switch them off. Suri, you’ll have the bomb to get us above ground. Sunset, Trixie, you’ll be getting those keys off the warden.”
“Easier said than done,” Sunset said.
“It’s not going to be easy, but we’ve got to try,” Starlight said.
The others nodded along, albeit hesitantly.
“Say we do make it out...Where do we go, exactly?” Wallflower asked.
Starlight had not thought that far ahead yet.
“Anywhere but here.”
Dawn crept like a lion unto its prey, and with it light devoured the ivory city of Canterlot, which reeked of an astringent gloom.
Behind the royal palace walls, Twilight Sparkle had fallen upon her marble throne, rubbing the exhaustion out of her eyes. Shadows and stain glass held dominion over the throne room, which felt cold and lifeless.
“We shouldn’t even be here,” said a dark cyan changeling bearing a luminous silver crown, “There’s enough of a threat without us stooping past our own lands.”
“Pharynx,” Twilight rebuked, with an irritated scowl, “I promise you this will be over soon. I only wanted to make sure the both of you are doing alright. You and all the creatures you protect."
Beside the cantankerous Pharynx was an olive hippogriff with a wavy orchid mane. Her bright violet eyes were locked onto the floor, and she could barely open her mouth to speak.
“They’re scared,” Ocean Flow said, though it came barely as a whisper. Her face was drained of color, and her eyes were dry from lost tears. Her mane was unkempt, and though she wore her sister Novo’s crown, she felt none of its pride nor grandeur.
“Of course they’re scared. They’re restless, too, because nothing has been done to rectify this!” Pharynx seethed.
“We’re doing everything we possibly can.”
Pharynx shook his head, incredulously.
“This was no ordinary honorless bilge rat who was slaughtered in your town like some beast. He was their king! He was good, he was kind, and they killed him! I’m not waiting around for this to blow over, your highness,” Pharynx snarled with great contempt, “I’ll have to consult Celestia and Luna on this, they’ll know what to do.”
Twilight shuddered slightly.
“That won’t be necessary...I spoke with them just today. They understand the situation and are cooperating with the investigation to the best of their ability. I know this is difficult for you. I know how much your brother meant to you. But this is not an easy case to solve. You have to trust me, when I say this will be made right. But I’ll need both of your help to do it. I want you both to remain in the capital for a while, to help sort everything out.”
“Of course, your highness,” Ocean Flow said, raising her head suddenly.
Twilight nodded approvingly, until she noticed Pharynx’s hesitation.
“You’ll have our cooperation...For now,” Pharynx said, gritting his teeth in frustration.
Twilight appreciated his compromise, leaving them both with a welcoming smile.
From the sleek silver-tipped spires of the Crystal Empire’s royal palace, a murder of black ravens took flight.
Cadance, peering out from the window of her royal carriage, presumed those birds to be the same ones that had delivered the news to the city, the news of eight terrible deaths.
She trembled in her seat.
The air was brittle like ice, despite it being a summer’s day.
He was gone, she kept telling herself. Thorax was gone.
She supposed a proper goodbye would have allowed her to make peace with it, somehow. But how could she have expected such horror? Who ever could?
She arrived at her palace gate around midday, while the sun was still wrapped in a blanket of shadowy clouds. A storm was brewing over the mountains, streaks of purple lightning scarring the dismal sky in the distance. She would check behind her shoulder almost every step; ceaselessly she could feel a shadow stalking behind her, and eyes watching her from every direction.
Only when she made it up to the twelfth story vestibule of her palace, was she at last able to take a breath.
“Did you get back alright?”
Shining Armor’s voice caught Cadance by surprise, as he strolled into the vestibule from another corridor.
Cadance’s eyes shot right through her concerned husband, scanning the darkened doorway behind him.
“Is Flurry safe?” Cadance asked, her voice quivering.
Shining Armor was baffled.
“....Yeah, she's fine. I just put her to bed. Are you alright?” he asked. She had not been this erratic since the first few months after giving birth.
Cadance felt like fainting, and she turned away from him.
“You’ve heard what’s happened,” Cadance said.
Shining Armor had not been aware that Cadance knew yet, and was relieved. He hated to be the bearer of tragic news.
“Yeah. I heard. I would’ve made the funeral, y'know, but things were a kinda crazy up here while you were gone. I couldn’t leave,” he explained.
Cadance sighed.
“I missed it too. I wanted to get back here, as fast as possible. But the trains were all stalled.”
Shining Armor silently offered her a comforting embrace, which she promptly accepted.
Burying her chin deep in his shoulder, her body felt lighter than usual, and she disappeared into him.
“Tell me we’ll be OK…” Cadance said, though she was so choked it came only as a whisper.
"We're gonna be OK,” Shining Armor said. Though, he could not admit he too had been feeling anxious for days. Bronze Beam had been an old boot camp buddy of Shining Armor’s, and if he could not stand a chance against this mysterious foe, Shining Armor feared he would fare no differently. If it came to that.
Cadance got control of herself, pulling herself away and trotting towards the carpeted center of the vestibule.
“I spoke with Twilight...And I’m worried about her,” Cadance said, “This is a dangerous threat we’re dealing with. I don’t know if she’s ready to handle it.”
Shining Armor glanced off to the side, finding himself at a conflict of interest.
“She has a good heart,” he said, nodding to himself, “She’ll do her job.”
Cadance hoped he was correct.
“They could go after Flurry next...We have to take every precaution,” Cadance said.
“Berry and Esther are posted beside her bed as we speak. I won’t be taking any chances.”
Cadance smiled.
“I need to get some rest, I’m exhausted.”
Shining Armor nodded in agreement.
“I’ve got to talk to Hardball, he’s got some ideas for fortifying the city walls. Nopony will get inside the city without me knowing.”
Cadance nodded, before watching him take off towards the stairwell.
She sighed again, and sauntered over to her bedroom nearby.
She swung open the door and stepped inside the lavish chamber, dreaming of descending beneath the covers of her own bed.
“Finally."
Cadance shrieked in surprise, at the cryptic voice calling out to her from the darkness.
The flip of a doorside switch revealed him, a grizzly grey griffin with a hardened face and piercing eyes.
“Gore?!” Cadance said, shocked.
Gore nodded, gently, and they both recalled a particular Canterlot gala many moons ago, when the two were first acquainted.
“How are you here? Why are you here?” Cadance said, her horn beginning to glow a violent electric blue.
Gore backed away, though did not lift his hostile exterior.
“Not to do you or your family any harm, if that’s a concern.”
Cadance, however, did not believe him, maintaining her defensive stance.
“I only came to ask you a question or two," Gore explained, "I’ve been made aware you spoke with Princess Twilight just a few days ago. How did this meeting come about?”
Cadance sputtered, lowering her guard in utter confusion.
“Agents, from the Emergency Service, they warned me I was in danger. This was before anypony knew of what happened. So I visited her. Twilight. Just to see if she needed any help.”
“And what did she say to you?”
“She told me the truth. Of what happened to Thorax and all those poor creatures.”
“That’s all?”
“Yes. That's all," Cadance snapped, "What are you after, exactly?”
Gore’s eyes were invasive, and his glare was so forceful it was as if he was studying every nuance to Cadance’s own expression.
“Conducting an investigation.”
“On who? Me?Twilight? You’ve got to be insane, to think-”
“I don’t think anything yet. I’m only looking for information. And no creature, not even a royal one, is to be counted out as a suspect.”
Cadance was not sure whether he was referring to Twilight, or herself.
“If that’s all you have for me, then I’m sorry for the disturbance.”
Gore made his way towards the exit, walking around a still-befuddled Cadance.
“Oh, and, you might want to make this place a bit more secure,” Gore said, with a hint of a grin, "If I could get in, our killer will have an easy time making quick work of you."
He left Cadance alone in the room, forced to confront her own doubts of the ponies she thought she could trust with her life.
It could be anybody.
She shook her head back and forth, refusing to give any ground to such devastating accusations.
In more pleasant times, he would have been able to enjoy the cigarette stuck between his teeth. But it was instead a necessary supplement, an antidote to the dogged stress that gnawed at him day and night.
Alias was facing down a large window, glaring down at his subordinates in the control center below, who were frantically rummaging through files and equipment.
“Sir.”
Alias turned from the window, grimacing at the withdrawn pony stumbling in from the conference room door.
The pony, a white earth pony with jet black hair called Eight Ball, flipped on the lights to the room, causing Alias to wince in dismay.
Eight Ball chose not to wait for a response, assuming he would not be receiving one.
“The draconequus is still being interrogated. We’re running out of vincula fuel, we won’t be able to restrain his magic for much longer,” Eight Ball reported.
“Consider it a miracle we brought him in at all,” Alias said, “What's he been saying?”
“He’s denying everything," Eight Ball said, flatly, "Even the things that are true.”
“Typical.”
“If my opinion means anything, sir-”
“It doesn’t.”
“But if it did...I don’t believe the draconequus is responsible. There’s no motive, no reward, no plausibility,” Eight Ball argued.
“Lucky for us it’s not your job to make those kinds of judgments. Go and take a look at his track record.”
“Sir, we’re all familiar with his track record. Including the part where he’s become an ally.”
“Ally?” Alias said, incredulously, “How many times has he sold himself as such, just to turn his cloak and nearly bring about the end of Equestria? This is no different. I don't trust him because he is not trustworthy.”
“This is different. Nothing like this has ever happened before. It’s not like him to do this. There has to be a point.”
Alias was about to fire back, but stopped short of himself, realizing that perhaps Eight Ball was correct.
“Regardless of his innocence, I want constant surveillance once he’s set free. We haven’t got many leads,” Alias said.
“And, sir...What of the escaped subject from Level 14?” Eight Ball asked.
The incident had nearly slipped Alias’ mind.
“What do you think? I want it found, and either brought back here or destroyed. Alert every detachment in a twenty mile radius. If Twilight finds it...we'll all be compromised.”
“Yes sir.”
Eight Ball nodded his head and shuffled out of the room, leaving Alias once more in a heap of frustration.
“Where are you?” he muttered to himself.
The killer was a ghost, a phantom, and perhaps they only sought to create a little chaos before their return to the shadows.
His scowl hardened, and he knew the killer could not evade him forever.
Nopony ever had.
Kickstart staggered into Ponyville half-dead, collapsing in the grass as the last of his strength escaped him. It had been two days since he escaped the Erased's laboratories, and he had not gotten a wink of sleep between them.
He sighed in relief, and quickly attempted to get some much-needed sleep. He drifted off to the sound of the trees billowing in the wind, and his scowl loosened, and his stiff shoulders fell back. The scars on his body disappeared then, and he could feel none of the pain any longer.
“...Hey mister, you alright?”
Kickstart opened his eyes and practically fell off the wooden bench, when the voice of a middle-school aged girl called out to him from near the treeline. He glanced up at her, a scrappy little thing with an orange coat and a short, wavy purple mane.
“Never better," he replied, hardly lifting his head off the ground.
The girl tilted her head skeptically, and studied him.
“I don’t recognize you," she said, "You’re not from around here, are you?”
He almost had to laugh; he did not even know where here was. This was not his home, he was sure of that, at least. But where was home? All tried to remember it all, the fireplace in the family room, the bus route to school, but the only images he could form in his head were of needles and wires and wrenches and scalpels.
The girl's brow furrowed as she watched him struggle up off the grass.
Only then did she notice the strange scars and marks on his body. She winced, as so many often did when they saw him. Around his neck was a half-healed gash that made it look as though he had survived a trip to the gallows, and all around his ribs, chest, and back were rune-like incisions made in symmetrical patterns.
Your sacrifice is saving lives, is what they would tell him.
“Well, if you're down on your luck, I could at least show you around town," the girl offered, "You look like you'd do well to get some food in you, some sleep too."
Kickstart's eyes darted back towards her.
"Who are you?" he asked.
“I’m Scootaloo,” the girl said, waving for him to join her, "And you?"
Subject #67, he thought at once. But he corrected himself first, "Kickstart. Look kid, I don't plan on staying here very long, and I can make do on my own, so..."
"No," Scootaloo said, "C'mon, our food's not that bad. Come and see for yourself, at least."
Kickstart sighed and relented, following after the filly towards the proper town limits of Ponyville.
“I guess it's not my business, but...What happened to you?" Scootaloo asked, curious, "It looks like you caught a firework to the face."
"Something like that," he replied, while he ignored the stares of pony passerbys. Let them look.
“...Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Scootaloo said, embarrassed, before regaining her composure, “Y'know, it’s a little weird. We don't get many newcomers, not for the past couple weeks.”
“In that case, I'm expecting some special treatment," he laughed.
Scootaloo gave him an odd look.
“What?"
“Do you live under a rock? Don’t you know what happened here?” she stammered.
Kickstart said nothing.
“No, kid, I really don’t know. What are you getting at?"
“Really?”
“Really,” Kickstart said, and he was beginning to get agitated.
Scootaloo’s gaze was suddenly caught by something behind Kickstart.
Kickstart, who was still relatively paranoid of having been found by his former captors, swiveled around, to discover nothing but the weekday streets of Ponyville.
He had not realized he had been tricked until a split second before Scootaloo whacked him over the head. Her weapon was a rock, which she had been holding onto since she first spotted Kickstart sleeping on that bench.
Kickstart collapsed to the ground, out cold, leaving Scootaloo in a state of childlike jubilation.
“I got him! I got him!” she exclaimed, "I got the killer!"
Kickstart slowly awoke in a red daze. The bloody gash on his head wrapped in cheap bandages did little to quell the aching pain.
“Oh, c'mon,” he despaired, "I mean, c'mon! That fucking kid..."
“Here he is,” said a pony as he opened the door to what had to be the interrogation room at the Ponyville police station, and was followed by three others.
The first was a policepony, dressed in blue, an earth pony with a short auburn mane and steely blue eyes. The second was a short-statured earth pony, with a light mossy green coat and a thin dark brown mane. The third was a tan earth pony mane with a wispy grey mane and a pair of bifocals resting on her snout. And lastly was Scootaloo, bearing a gloating grin.
“Close the door, kid,” the auburn-haired pony ordered.
Scootaloo complied.
“Where’d you say you found him?” asked the green pony.
Kickstart narrowed his eyes at the green pony, recognizing him somehow.
“Folly Lick Field," Scootaloo replied.
"Well done, Scootaloo," Mayor Mare smiled.
"Yes, well done Scootaloo," Kickstart mocked.
"Quiet," Mayor Mare hissed.
“You might just make the front page of the paper with a find like this, kiddo,” said the auburn-haired pony, "Has he got a name?"
Subject #67. No, he thought, no, that's not my name.
“Kickstart. My name is Kickstart," he said, "And if you think this is gonna be enough to hold me, you've got another thing comi-"
Before he could finish, the green stallion smashed his hoof into his face.
“You do yourself a favor and keep your mouth shut unless I ask you a question," said the auburn-haired pony, "We’re gonna figure out who you are, and what you're doing here. I’m Holster, I’m the Ponyville Deputy Sheriff. You’ll be cooperating with me if you want to get out of here as fast as possible.
Kickstart wrestled against his hoof cuffs, which he was already grinding against each other. After years of planning that escape, he knew a thing or two of getting out of cuffs.
"Your medical records were quite unusual," Mayor Mare said, "Your mother and father. Was one of them a unicorn?"
Kickstart glanced up at her, thrown off by the question.
"You want to know my blood type, too?" he laughed, "Why the fuck does it matter to you?"
"It's only....Mr. Kickstart, after a scan, we've found prominent traces of what can only be unicorn magic, coursing through your nervous system, your blood, your bone marrow. Nurse Redheart has never seen anything quite like it."
Kickstart noticed the green pony glaring at him, and he became restless in his restraints.
"A magical hybrid-pony covered in bruises and scars comes waltzing into our town. Why? For some unfinished business?" Holster wondered.
"I want him to be held here in your charge, Deputy," Mayor Mare said, "Until the specialists from Canterlot come down to conduct a more thorough investigation. There seems to be a strong chance that this is the pony we're looking for."
"Oh, don't smirk at me you geriatric cunt," Kickstart spat, "I can't wait to wipe that fucking smile off that pinched fucking face, you hear me? Oh, yeah, laugh it up, just wait until I-"
The green pony smacked him across the jaw.
"Deputy, Ms. Mayor, if it’s no trouble, I’d like to speak with our friend alone for a moment,” the green pony asked.
Holster seemed disappointed, as if he had more to say first.
“...Be quick,” Holster said, ushering Scootaloo out of the room. She flashed Kickstart a prideful smirk, before she, the mayor, and the deputy disappeared around the door.
Once the door was closed, the green pony’s gentle smile dropped completely.
“You’re in a worse spot than you think, #67.”
Kickstart felt his heart skip a beat. Shit.
“Yeah. You know me, don’t you? Gin’s what they call me."
"Careful, pal, they could be listening," Kickstart grinned, glancing around the room, "Them, the ominous they. I got under your skin so bad you're blowing your cover out in the open? That's rich."
"I thought I'd be bored to death here in Ponyville," Gin said, ignoring him, "Then I got the message that you'd escaped, I thought, the dumb bastard, he’s walking into a hell-storm and he doesn’t even know it…”
“What the hell happened here?" Kickstart asked, "If you plan on framing me for a crime, the least you could do is tell me what I'm supposed to have done."
“They’re really convinced that you’re the national fugitive everypony's after. The murders happened in this town.”
"Murders?" Kickstart repeated, "Why should that bother you? Blackcoats murder ten ponies a day, at least."
"Creatures like you aren't ponies, anymore, #67. These Ponyville folks think you've come to add some more victims to your tally. Mr. Deputy thinks I’m with the Investigative Bureau. And I’ll let him keep thinking that, and maybe even plant some evidence to pin everything on you, hand you over to be put to the stake...or...you can come with me, willingly, and we’ll go back to Canterlot, get you back where you belong, and be done with this whole incident.”
Kickstart’s breathing was dangerously quick, as he continued wrestling with his hoof cuffs. Genever’s boorish glare made it difficult to focus.
“Hate to disappoint you, but I'm not your fucking lab rat anymore. I don’t belong there.”
Genever laughed.
“You don’t belong anywhere. One step outside and you’re already back behind bars again. Get it through your head - you died a long time ago, #67. It was us who stitched the pieces back together, and turned you into what you are now. You are property of the Erased, and we're going to have you back. Things are a little precarious out there, in case you haven't noticed. And the last thing anypony needs is you running amuck stirring up more trouble."
Taking advantage of Genever’s temporary overconfidence, Kickstart lunged forward with all his might, managing to break apart the twisted cuffs, severing the chainlink in half.
He tackled Genever from across the table sitting between them, stepping over his ribs to reach the door.
Genever grunted in agony, unable to stop Kickstart from bursting through the door to the corridor outside.
“Stop him!” Genever bellowed from the ground.
Kickstart sprinted down the maze of hallways in the police station, as officers escaped their cubicles and began to give chase.
In the lobby, Kickstart took flight, shoving past two guards attempting to block his path. Holster was right on his tail, with a mob of officers behind him.
“We want him alive,” Holster ordered.
Kickstart sprang out from the front doors of the station, gliding over the steps where Scootaloo was sitting off to the side.
Her jaw dropped at the sight, and she quickly followed after him, through a winding alleyway down towards the outskirts of town.
“Stop!”
Kickstart never looked back, trembling as he evaded every hazard lying in his path.
Scootaloo could only keep up with him thanks to her scooter, and they had long ditched the disadvantaged officers back at the station.
Kickstart arrived at the edge of the Ponyville borders, coming face to face with an ominous treeline that reeked of evil.
Deciding he had no better choice, he continued his escape into the forest, terribly out of breath.
Scootaloo saw him break through the treeline, and caught up as fast as her scooter could go.
She ditched her beloved scooter in the grass, and sought to chase him down on hoof.
But she knew it was unwise to go through the Everfree Forest alone, and hesitated before she could take a step through.
It’s all up to me.
She mustered up all the courage she had, and thought of what her heroes would do if they were here.
Gritting her teeth, she dove into the brush, hoping to find and stop Kickstart before he could evade justice.
Nopony will suspect a thing.
For days, Starlight continued adapting each meticulous detail of the escape plan, and the longer she had to prepare herself, the stronger her resolve became.
Two-and-a-half weeks since she had first arrived, it was a typical Thursday labor cycle. Lightning was stuck in the mines, Trixie in the factory, Sunset in the mailroom, Suri in the kitchen, Starlight and Wallflower in the laundromat.
But that day would be anything but typical.
As Starlight had discovered, Lightning would have the first shift in the cafeteria all day, as would Starlight, Wallflower, Trixie, and Suri, all at the same time, for the first time in fact.
“You’ve got the keycard, right?” Starlight asked Wallflower, catching her by surprise in the foodline.
“Of course,” Wallflower said, feeling around the imprint of the keycard stuffed in her obnoxiously tight jumpsuit.
“Pick up your food, and then follow me,” Starlight instructed.
Wallflower shot her a look of confusion.
“Wait, we’re doing it now?”
Starlight stared at her, afraid to nod ‘yes’ for fear of somepony seeing. She was anxious to keep everything as secretive as possible. Before it was too late, at least.
“What about Sunset?” Wallflower asked, after taking a moment to set everything straight in her head.
“...I don’t want to leave her behind...But we may never get a chance like this, all together, for a long while. When our carriage may no longer be available. It has to be today.”
Wallflower dreaded making an enemy of Sunset, especially when considering how she was treated when they were actually on the same side.
“...OK,” Wallflower said, raising her head, feigning some courage.
“Tonight. At dinner. I’ll find you.”
Snow fell over the leftover black corpses of inmates, long-exposed to the harsh elements. Ice made for a miserable coffin.
Inside, around one drafty corridor of the prison, Lightning Dust was sauntering back towards her prison cell, while Starlight, Trixie, and Wallflower were alongside her, speaking in subdued whisperings.
“Lightning, do you know where the keys to your wings are?” Starlight asked.
Lightning thought long and hard.
“...Oh, yeah. The chief has ‘em. Duck.”
Trixie let out an aggressive chortle, stopping herself short with a hoof to her own mouth.
“What kind of name is Duck?” said Trixie, still holding back laughter.
“I don’t know his real name. That’s what everypony calls him. His voice is like that one cartoon duck. It’s a riot.”
“He’s got the keys?” Starlight asked.
“Sure as a stratocumulus,” Lightning declared.
Starlight stared at her blankly.
“That means yes,” Lightning rolled her eyes.
“And the warden’s got the keys to our horns?” Trixie asked.
“That’s right,” Starlight said.
“So we need to get the keys for her wings? We’ll need those first before we even start,” Wallflower pointed out.
Sgt. Ampersand, otherwise known as ‘Duck’ by the inmates and an unfortunately large number of fellow guards, had just finished making his rounds for the day, before he planned on taking a much-needed nap.
‘Those inmates don’t have it much worse than we do,’ he thought, stumbling towards his barracks. It was freezing cold, as usual, and he had little in the way of pleasantries to make his life any more bearable. He might as well be a prisoner too, he often said to himself. But now his shift was over, and nothing could possibly ruin it anymore.
“Excuse me, sir!”
Rushing up to block his path on a spindly catwalk teetering over a deep mineshaft, was a strange blue unicorn inmate, with a ridiculous, off-putting smile.
“You’re not on my block,” Duck muttered, glancing off to the side as if to say ‘move, get out of the way.’
“No, oh, I’m so sorry! I just needed your help is all. My own block chief’s gone somewhere. And there’s an emergency over this way, there really is!” the unicorn wailed.
He was utterly oblivious, when a curly-haired earth pony with an unusual talent for going unnoticed snuck behind him and reached to unhook the ring of keys from his belt.
“What kind of emergency?”
“Trouble! Ponies fighting, kicking! Teeth on the floor! There’s blood everywhere! It’s a madhouse, you’ve got to come quick!” the unicorn begged.
He was about to answer her, until he heard the rattling of keys sound off from behind him.
He spun around, and caught Wallflower Blush red-hoofed holding onto his keys.
“What the-!”
But before he could alert anypony, Trixie came smashing a foodtray over his head, sending him tumbling to the floor.
“You belong on Broadway,” Wallflower said.
Trixie smiled, struggling to keep herself from gloating of her triumph.
“Let’s get out of here,” Trixie said, leading Wallflower away from the scene.
At dinner, the typical crowd came filing in; buggers and brutes of varying size, shape, and intensity; all of them a miserable folk with little hope for freedom. Should hell exist, it could not be much better than here.
Starlight sat with Suri, Wallflower, Lightning, and Trixie at a corner-edge table, still missing Sunset. Lightning had brought Scampers the rat with her, hiding him under the table to feed him her scraps.
“We all know what to do?” Starlight asked.
Lightning nodded, as did Wallflower and Suri. Trixie, however, seemed less agreeable.
“Why do I have to be the distraction?”
“Because you’re distracting,” Suri answered.
“We won’t be able to get past the guards unless they’ve got their hooves tied with something else,” Starlight elaborated.
Starlight glanced at the guards posted by the exits, making sure she could not be heard.
“When you get out of here, you’ve got to get those keys to our horns off of Steel Shackle. And find Sunset, if you can,” Starlight said, “Got it?”
Trixie nodded, though still felt she was being dealt the worse hand.
“Hey, cheer up. At least you’re not the one flying through the tunnel of certain death,” Lightning said, snickering.
Trixie sighed.
Starlight placed a hoof on her shoulder, and leaned in closer.
“I know you can do it,” Starlight said, as Trixie turned her head away in shame, “You told me you weren’t a hero. I don’t believe you. Now’s the time to prove it to yourself.”
Trixie could feel her heart racing, and she rose from her seat suddenly, and nodded eagerly, as if she had made a miraculous discovery.
“I’ve got this,” Trixie said, and Starlight nodded back.
Trixie brought her tray of food with her, and immediately made her way towards the center tables of the cafeteria.
But, in passing by a group of four ponies, she went out of her way to trip, lift her tray and dump its contents on the nearest pony. The pony shrieked in horror, her face covered in muck.
Trixie ducked down to the ground, right as the soiled pony blindly began growling and throwing the bowl of grey paste she was eating, across the room.
The bowl landed in another pony’s lap, welcomed by a harping squeal, followed by a beastly declaration of war.
The cafeteria devolved into madness in less than a minute, and Starlight and the others could not help but be impressed.
“She’s still got it,” Starlight said.
“Can we go now?” Lightning asked.
Starlight checked her back, and was relieved to see the doorside guards leave their posts to attempt to break up the cluttered brawl breaking out.
“Stay out of sight,” Starlight said, before leading the others down the exit corridor.
Starlight, Suri, Wallflower, and Lightning, who was carrying Scampers on her back, all crept through the shadowy corridors of the prison until they arrived at the double swinging doors of the laundromat.
The laundromat was completely empty, to Starlight’s relief.
Starlight hung back by the doors while the others filed in, and, checking one last time to make sure they were clear, she quietly shut them.
“I’ll keep time. Remember. Five seconds,” Starlight warned.
Lightning took a deep breath, following Starlight and the others down the short staircase to the sunken laundromat.
Suri began undoing Lightning’s wing locks using the keys stolen off of Duck, while the pegasus avoided thinking too much about how painful it would be if she did not make it through the tunnel in time.
Lightning handed Scampers over to Starlight, hoping he would be kept safe should she not make it.
Wallflower wasted no time approaching the vault keypad.
“The code is on here too,” Wallflower explained.
Lightning, her wings free again, took her mark in front of the vault door, and she did not realize her legs were trembling slightly.
“Don’t be nervous, you’ve got it,” Starlight said.
“I know I’ve got it,” Lightning snapped.
“Ready?...” Wallflower asked, holding the combination in her head.
They waited for Lightning’s reply, though the pegasus was stone silent. Lightning was fidgeting, and had trouble concentrating on the vault door in front of her.
“I knew she couldn’t do it,” Suri snarled, “We ought to find a different pegasus, this one’s clearly not fit for it.”
Lightning’s apprehensions dissipated, instead now enraged.
“Do it.”
Suri glanced at Starlight with a self-congratulatory smirk.
“Three….” Wallflower began.
Lightning spread her wings, and flapped each a few times to build some momentum back. Weeks of inactivity had weakened them, certainly, though Lightning was sure she would still be able to fly as normal.
Mostly sure.
“Two….”
Lightning avoided making eye contact with the others. She had to convince herself this was personal: just her and the tunnel. All she had to do was clear it. Just an ordinary obstacle.
Except one mistake means the last mistake I’ll ever make.
Lightning wiped her nose, and took one last inhale.
“One!”
54834
“Go!” Wallflower said, right as a green light came on above the vault door, which promptly swung open to the side.
Lightning took flight, darting through the now-opened tunnel.
The tunnel was lit only by dim service lights, and was winding in seemingly random directions, generally heading downwards.
“Three seconds,” Wallflower announced, and Starlight could feel her heart race.
Lightning sped through the musty air of the tunnel, focusing only on flapping her wings as fast as possible.
Don’t slow down.
One mistake, one slip, and Lightning knew she would be killed.
But it was too late to turn back.
Lightning was counting the seconds in her head, but she could not see any light ahead of her. She was panicking, which she knew never helped her focus. Practically in tears, she forced every muscle in her body to fall in line with a single directive: do not stop.
“That’s time!” Wallflower exclaimed, and, right on cue, she, Starlight, and Suri all jumped back in fright when hundreds of spinning, razor-sharp spiked wheels shot up from all directions within the tunnel, buzzing in furious, flesh-obliterating circles.
“Lightning?!” Starlight screamed, terrified that Lightning had been sliced to bits.
There was no response.
After a silent minute of shock, they were again caught off guard when the razors suddenly stopped, and retracted back inside the tunnel walls.
“You’re clear!” came Lightning’s voice from deep down in the tunnel.
Lightning, having just located the safety switch in the maintenance duct, was gasping for breath as if it was her first. She had barely escaped the razors by the time she made it past the tunnel’s edge, landing in a small box-like room lit by red light, with control switches, dials, and ventilation access points.
Her wings were cut up severely, as was the rest of her body. One particularly gruesome cut slashed open her foreleg, which was bleeding profusely. She groaned in pain, and as soon as she yelled to the others, she collapsed back to the floor.
“Suri, have you got the bombs?” Starlight asked.
Suri raised up the three makeshift bombs she and Trixie had managed to craft, using kitchen supplies and factory parts.
“Use those carefully,” Starlight instructed.
“I never waste material,” Suri insisted, pompously.
“And take the rat too,” Starlight said, handing Scampers over to Suri. The rat seemed anxious, as if it too was uncertain whether Lightning was alive or not.
“I am not touching that disease-ridden vermin,” Suri scoffed.
Starlight ignored her, shoving the rat in her hooves.
“Wallflower, send her down.”
Wallflower obliged, reaching over for a thirty-yard strip of tied jumpsuits she had prepared earlier that day.
Wallflower tossed the makeshift rope down the tunnel, and tied it tautly to a nearby pipe bending out from the wall.
Suri grabbed onto the rope, the bombs stuffed in her poorly-stitched bag and Scampers the rat digging his claws into her foreleg. She took one last look at the others, before descending down into the depths, disappearing into the darkness.
Trixie slipped out from the cafeteria brawl with ease, dodging trays of muck and utensils being thrown across the room. The guards were too preoccupied with the frenzy to notice her, as she broke through the exit doors as subtly as possible.
Trixie correctly assumed Sunset would still be in the mailroom, shredding a pile of letters that would otherwise be sent to inmates.
She peeked her head inside the mailroom door, but immediately retreated, when she spotted a guard lounging right around the corner. His eyes had been closed, though she was not prone to take such a chance. She had seen Sunset inside too, rifling through other ponies’ mail.
After muttering a slew of curses under her breath, she doubled-downed once more.
“Sunset,” Trixie whispered from the doorway of the mailroom.
Luckily for her, Sunset was close enough to the door to hear.
“Come on,” Trixie whispered, motioning with her hoof for Sunset to follow.
Sunset ignored the sleeping guard and trotted right out of the mailroom, following Trixie around a corner.
“What’s the matter?” Sunset asked.
“It’s on. Right now. We’ve got to go,” Trixie said, beginning to pick up the pace.
“What’s now? Wait. You mean, now?Right now?” Sunset stammered.
“That’s what I’m telling you!”
“Hey!” yelled the sleeping guard from inside the mailroom, having just been awoken.
But right as he sprang outside to find his missing worker, he instead received a rock directly to the face, bludgeoning his nose and spinning him around two times.
He collapsed in a stack of once-neatly organized mail.
Trixie ran back to the mailroom to ensure the guard was incapacitated, before turning to the other workers inside.
“Everypony! They can’t stop us all! The guards are running! We’re winning! Get out there and help!” Trixie exclaimed, before rushing off to rejoin Sunset.
“You’re crazier than I thought,” Sunset said, mildly impressed.
The two of them broke into a sprint, realizing that they were now on a deadline.
“When we get there, we’ll have to be stealthy,” Sunset said, “Can you do that?”
“Oh yeah. Stealth is my middle name,” Trixie said, as the two of them raced along a high-raised catwalk.
The two of them were caught by surprise when a large group of prisoners came spilling out from below on the ground level. The prisoners had weapons, from clubs to rocks to sharp spikes. They appeared to be enraged, storming forth with an unquenchable fury towards the front foyer.
“Looks like your little insurrection took off,” Sunset said, “Good thing too. The guards will be busy mowing them down, they won’t even notice us slip right out of here.”
“That wasn’t what I meant to happen,” Trixie said, though she supposed it actually was. Still, she hated to think she would be the cause for anypony being seriously hurt, or, even worse, killed.
Sunset’s eyes lit up, when they finally arrived at Steel Shackle’s very own all-glass office perched in the center of the maze of catwalks on Level 2.
“He’s got the keys,” Sunset said, and a vengeful smile clawed its way onto her face. She and the warden had never gotten along, naturally. Now was the time to get even.
“Looks like we’re in luck,” Sunset said, smirking, “He’s asleep.”
Steel Shackle was leaning back in his office chair, his eyes shut and his mouth hanging open. Sunset had never known the warden to sleep; she would often hear him patrolling the halls in the dead of night, taunting his captured prey.
Sunset glanced at Trixie, who was beginning to let her nerves get the better of her. They were crouching behind a catwalk railing a few yards away from the office door.
“Let’s get this over with. Stay here, make sure there’s no guards around,” Sunset said, standing up and making her way towards the office.
Sunset kept a steady pace up towards the door, before drawing to a careful, soundless step. Steel Shackle growled in his sleep, and Sunset froze.
He was a bulky stallion, and Sunset knew she would not fare well against him without her magic. All the more reason to stay silent.
Sunset spotted the ring of unicorn keys, all marked in bright gold, sitting on his desk.
Too easy.
She spoke too soon, however, when Steel Shackle’s eyes opened suddenly.
Sunset knew better than to bother with any excuses.
She rushed him while he was still half-asleep, tackling the broad-shouldered stallion right out of his chair.
Sunset considered calling for help, though she was too preoccupied struggling against Steel Shackle, who was now wide awake.
“You!”
Sunset wrestled with an enraged Steel Shackle, who quickly overpowered her, bending her front leg in the wrong direction and pinning her to the ground.
“You rat, trying to sneak up on me! Huh? You ought to know I’m a light sleeper, for next time. Not that there will ever be a next time, for you.”
Sunset groaned, when Steel Shackle began pushing down on her throat with all of his weight. It was as though an ox had been dropped on top of her, and her airway was completely shut. She could not even flail her limbs in desperation, as the warden had her completely secure beneath his grip.
Then the pressure shocked apart, and Sunset could gasp for breath again. She crawled forward, her entire body trembling. Her vision was blurry and she was coughing uncontrollably.
Glancing behind her, she saw Steel Shackle, keeled over on the floor, blood draining out from a bludgeoned gash in his head, like a cracked egg.
Sunset was morbidly enthused, and then saw Trixie holding onto a blood-covered fire extinguisher, having intervened in the nick of time.
“Nice work,” Sunset said, choking up a glob of spit onto Steel Shackle.
Trixie retrieved the golden keys from Steel Shackle’s belt, triumphant.
“We did it!” she exclaimed.
Punctuating her proclamation of victory, however, was the blaring sound of the prison alarm; neither Sunset nor Trixie had noticed Steel Shackle behind them lift himself up from the floor, slamming the emergency red button sitting atop his control panel desk.
Steel Shackle collapsed again, though this time with a delirious, sinister smirk. He would have the last laugh after all.
The siren drowned out every inch of the prison, turning heads and sending every guard on high alert. Sunset and Trixie were both paralyzed, realizing that their small victory may not be worth celebrating.
Arriving at the end of the tunnel, Suri discovered Lightning in a bloody heap, and naturally she mistook her to have been killed. She was horrified, until the pegasus released a dull groan, muffled by her face pressed into the floor of the maintenance duct control room. Scampers leaped out of Suri’s hooves, clawing at Lightning’s face to see if she was alive. Lightning lay motionless.
“Um, excuse me. Now’s not the time to have a rest. Chip chop.”
Lightning mumbled something unintelligible, half of her face lying in a puddle of her own blood.
Suri was disgusted, mostly that she had stepped in another pony’s blood.
“It’s alright! You can come down!” Suri yelled into the musky tunnel to Starlight and Wallflower. But, cutting her invitation off mid-sentence, the tunnel door suddenly shut, and a red light began to flash.
The alarm made each of them cower slightly; the noise echoed through the cavernous ventilation ducts, and was running towards them from every direction.
“That’s not good,” Lightning muttered, wondering which of their accomplices was responsible for whatever that alarm was about.
Suri attempted to pull open the hatch.
“Locked,” Suri said, forlorn.
Suri pouted, uncertain whether she could finish the job with only Lightning and herself.
Despite being wildly out of her comfort zone, Suri dragged Lightning up to her hooves, though Lightning was barely responsive, having lost a decent amount of blood.
“We’ll have to find a way for them to get through here,” Suri insisted.
Lightning glared at her.
“Forget ‘em. There’s no way. We’ve got to bust out above ground. There’s nothing we can do,” Lightning said, faintly as she shifted in and out of consciousness. Suri was surprised that Lightning could still be so obstinate in her current condition.
Still, the offer was tempting. They might as well cut their losses.
Yet she did not budge, a part of her drawn towards going back for the others.
She would have to decide quickly, she knew; the clock was ticking.
Feathers of soot scratched through the sky overtop the surly streets of Manehattan. The rust of ages past, worn threads and remnants of bygone days, spelled memories of unspoken grandeur. Factory smog and the scent of exotic cuisine strutted through the streets like welcomed guests, while rainwater collected in the sewers and carriage horns raged at each other for the hell of it.
By the busy train station in the south side of the city, Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were wondering how much longer Pinkie Pie would be. Idly, they watched beads of rain spill off the edge of the overhead pass hanging atop the exit stairwell. Ponies shoved past and between them, without a single ‘pardon me,’ to add insult to injury.
“I told her to go before we left,” Rainbow muttered, impatiently.
Right on cue, Pinkie reappeared through the crowd, almost out of thin air, startling the other two.
“Are we all good now?” Rainbow said.
“Sorry,” Pinkie said, smiling blissfully.
Rainbow nodded for them to follow her towards the cluttered stairwell, which led up to the ground level of the city.
“Twilight gave me the address of some incident the police think could be related to those criminals she was talking about,” Rainbow explained, wagging the briefcase of documents Twilight had given before seeing her off from Canterlot.
“I don’t know, Rainbow. Don’t you think this is, um, maybe just a little out of our league,” Fluttershy suggested.
Rainbow scoffed.
“Just because Twilight’s sitting on that throne and Chrysalis and Tirek and Cozy Glow are all frozen in stone, doesn’t mean we don’t still have a duty to Equestria,” Rainbow insisted.
“But Rainbow...I don’t want to end up like...oh, poor Rutherford! He didn’t deserve it!” Pinkie cried. She had never been prone to dwelling on tragedy, though the murder of her yak friend had certainly put a test to her positive resolve.
Fluttershy glared at Rainbow, as if she had intended to upset Pinkie.
“I know, Pinkie Pie. We’ve gotta make this right. Are you both still with me?” Rainbow asked.
Pinkie and Fluttershy nodded, though neither was free of their concerns.
Rainbow led them to a rundown neighborhood on 23rd Street, after an exhausting two-hour walk.
There they could see the wreckage of a burnt-down apartment complex, reduced to black ash and ruin.
“Excuse me,” Rainbow said, approaching a pony passerby.
“Huh?” the pedestrian said.
“What happened here?”
The pony shot her a look of contempt.
“Take a guess, bird, the place got smoked,” the pedestrian replied.
“Was it just an accident?” Fluttershy hoped.
“Sure, if you’d like to think that. Word is there was a bad deal with the Hoof over in there. Went south fast, don’t know how everypony got out though. Might have been a setup, who knows. Can you move outta the way now? I got places to be,” the pedestrian said, attempting to walk around the ponies obnoxiously standing in his path on the sidewalk.
Rainbow cut him off once again.
“The Hoof?” she asked, confused.
He glared at her.
“What are you, some idiot?"
“We’re not from around here, mister, no need to be mean,” Pinkie said.
The pony rolled his eyes.
“The Black Hoof runs this side of town. Come out of 57th Avenue, the old Lucitech place. It’s wrecked, don’t go around there, you Luna-damn tourists. You oughta mind your business when it comes to them, or you’ll end up like those bodies they found in that fire there,” the pedestrian said, nodding over to the destroyed apartment building.
He forcefully shoved past them, leaving the trio to contemplate their options.
“Looks like we’ve got our destination,” Rainbow said.
“...This sounds dangerous,” Fluttershy said.
“Look at what those thugs did to this place! They’re definitely the ones behind everything!” Rainbow said.
“...Maybe we should talk to Twilight before we do anything crazy,” Pinkie suggested.
Rainbow shook her head.
“There’s no time. Now come on. We’re getting to the bottom of this.”
Rainbow aggressively spun around to head towards 57th Avenue, and Fluttershy and Pinkie took a few moments before reluctantly joining after her.
The stench of imported cider and cigarettes overwhelmed him as he followed in the front door after the giant stallion.
For the past few days, Blondie and Salt Shaker had been working together on numerous jobs of varying intensity. And each time they had returned, the Den served as a reliable, if not tense, safe haven from the dangers of the city.
But today, those grey peeling walls were stained by the orange light of magnificent chandeliers, teetering to the elegant music crying out into the spacious foyer hall.
There was a devil over every shoulder, and vice reigned unopposed.
Laughter, the pouring of booze, and the clicking of lighters fought against the music for domination of the airwaves.
The crowd of ponies inside were breathing in the warm bubbly air, amidst toasts and feasts, and limitless pursuits of pleasure. There was no shame, no reservation, only utter mayhem painted over by a guise of elegance.
The crowd was dressed for the occasion, in suits and dresses, contrasting their boorish behavior and drunken disregard. Litter and cigarettes burns covered the carpet floor.
“What’s happened?” Blondie asked, confused.
“I’ve not the slightest,” Salt Shaker replied, also at a loss.
“Old Salt! Hello there!”
Tumbling out from the crowd came the sleek-haired Crozer, with some flakes of white powder trickling out from his nose and a dizzy derangement in his eyes.
“Where’ve you been? I was gonna send some of the boys after you, I thought you’d left me. I thought you’d betrayed me. We were gonna cut your throat open,” Crozer said, laughing hysterically. He was glad to be wrong.
But Salt Shaker was not laughing.
“I didn’t know we would be having guests tonight,” Salt Shaker said, dryly.
Crozer eyed him, still smiling, and then gave him a look of anticipation.
“Wait, you haven’t heard?”
Salt Shaker raised an eyebrow.
Crozer practically fell back off his hooves laughing.
“You old codger, wait until you hear this! We found out today that some sinister son of a bitch went into Ponyville and sliced through every creature who ever had it out for us. Filibuster? The bronco-busting bastard? Dead. Lady Parie, that conniving high-born bitch? Dead. The captain of the royal guard too!”
Salt Shaker glanced at Blondie, who also had no idea of such events.
“Trench and the Underground had their hooves dug deep in those rats' pockets. Now he's got eight less friends to bail him out. Rightfully, it calls for celebration. Which is what brings every slack-jawed hoodlum…” Crozer said, before catching the eye of a particularly’ well-groomed mare strutting past, “and fair lady,” he continued, nabbing up her hoof and kissing it. She smirked back towards him, before disappearing into the crowd. “...to our home. I’m sorry if you wanted a peaceful night’s sleep, Old Salt. There’s always tomorrow.”
Crozer noticed Blondie standing off to the side, and crept closer.
“And you, Blondie. Why so glum? Have a drink,” he offered, poaching a pint of ale off of a passing server’s tray.
“No thanks,” Blondie spat.
Crozer shrugged off Blondie’s reprehension towards him, and kept the pint for himself.
“And you wonder why you’re miserable. Dirty bastard.”
Crozer laughed again and sped back into the heart of the crowd, leaving Salt Shaker and Blondie stunned.
“I was once hired to hunt down Bronze Beam, and put a bullet in his head. He was more of a challenge than I anticipated, I barely escaped with my life,” Salt Shaker said, staring off into space, “Whoever could do such a thing, must be the deadliest creature in Equestria.”
While Salt Shaker was shaking his head in reverent disbelief, Blondie was teetering on lashing out against him, against anypony, really.
"Not one for parties?" Salt wondered.
“Killing ponies is one thing. Dancing on their graves is another.”
Salt Shaker titled his head, possibly in agreement.
But he said nothing, and attempted to decide whether he would be settling for the Mermaid Tears draft or the imported Newt's Eye.
Blondie scoffed.
“I’m getting some air,” Blondie muttered storming off.
Blondie escaped the blaring noise from inside the Den, his ears still rattling.
Walking down a few blocks, ignoring the lurking stares of the many homeless living in poverty, he avoided turning back.
He eventually came to a stop by an intersection, leaned against a lamppost and stuck a wad a cigarette in his mouth.
He considered running, and never turning back, though he remembered what Salt Shaker had said.
There’s nowhere we won’t find you.
And though he could call the giant’s bluff and attempt to make a run for it; he still had no idea where Brandy was, or even if she was alive. He thought of her, of her smile, of her eyes, of her dirtied blue dress and her black boots, and her defiance. She had to be stronger than him, he thought, to have tried to break free. Where was he but right to where he started, where he had fought to carve out a new better life for himself. But that life was empty still. Perhaps he was never meant to change.
“Don’t move.”
Blondie’s ruminations were interrupted by the sound of a mare’s voice from behind him.
He ignored her, turning around to be introduced to a trio of brightly-colored ponies.
“I said don’t move,” Rainbow Dash said, hoping she would not have to get violent.
“Who are you?” Blondie asked.
“We saw you leave from that place. Where the BlackHoof comes from,” Rainbow said.
Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy stood slightly farther back, allowing Rainbow to take the interrogative lead, “You work for them?”
“Not by choice,” Blondie said, continuing to huff on his cigarette.
“You know anything about what happened in Ponyville?” Rainbow said.
Blondie was not sure what she was talking about for a moment.
“You mean Filibuster and Paramount being…”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I just heard.”
“Yeah right. And how’d you get those bruises, buster?” Pinkie asked, skeptically.
“That’s a long story. And if you really want to know, these ponies don't have nothing to do with that.”
Rainbow’s shoulders fell, as did her confidence.
“I’m only stuck working for them.”
Rainbow shook her head back and forth, deciding she was unconvinced.
“I think we’ll be taking you in for more questions,” Rainbow said, approaching him.
“Forget it. You’re not cops.”
“Don’t make this difficult on yourself.”
But before Rainbow Dash could dart through the air to sucker punch Blondie in the face, a sharpened silver blade came spinning out from the darkness, landing squarely in the lamppost with the courtesy of a distinct “thunk” sound.
“You all shouldn’t be playing this late. It’s way past your bedtime,” Salt Shaker warned, stepping out into the light.
Rainbow took two steps back, taking in the immense size of the stallion slowly stomping towards her.
“Blondie. We’re leaving,” he said, scoldingly.
Blondie glared at Rainbow Dash and stormed off from the scene, leaving Rainbow and the others once again a step behind. He huffed on his cigarette a final time before tossing it into a sewer grate, as the smoke drifted off with him into the black.
The leaves of the Silkwood were beginning to turn, responding to the cooler breeze rolling over the hills beyond. Storm clouds hovered far over the mountains, like ghosts keeping watch over the world below. Or perhaps they were spectators, to the first strikes of lightning that would ignite a fire greater than the likes of anything prior.
The woods stretched out from the shadow of the Smoky Mountains, ancient towers of dense rock standing guard over the misty forests below. In the center west of the Highlands, the woods stood among the Big Willow, the Little Willow, and the other, less noteworthy rivers that fed into the North Lunar Sea, by way of Seaward Sholes.
There were a few settlements here and there, and some homesteads and farms, but for the most part, the woods were undisturbed, and the wild creatures and plants lived freely.
The major exception to that serenity of nature was the grand palace overlooking the forest, also called SIlkwood, belonging to one Lady Lavender. Velvet spires rose up past the canopy, in the center of the forest.
“This should be no trouble. In and out,” Bandolier had said to the others before their departure from Canterlot. The woods could be trouble, and the palace itself was well-guarded. With paranoia rearing its ugly head around each and every corner, Amity could not help but fear Bandolier would be mistaken.
They had a third companion traveling through the woods with them, a stallion called Flamberge. He stood a whole head taller than Bandolier, who was by no means short. A soldier in the royal guard, he bore a fiery head of red hair, and a pale blue coat. He had come into the service of Alias years ago, serving as the Erased's chief informant in the royal guard.
Bandolier was not sure why Alias had assigned the soldier to travel alongside them; his best guess was to ensure nopony could blame the Erased alone for any unexpected catastrophe. Or perhaps Alias did not trust him with the job, after all.
The trio of ponies had been made to wear sleek, all black suits, customary for special assignments. They stood out in the sun-scattered forest, though once night fell, they would be difficult to spot.
Bandolier had avoided the main roads that wound through the woods, preferring not to let Lavender, or anypony else for that matter, know that they're coming.
“What if she doesn’t want to leave with us?” Amity asked, trotting over the floor of dead red leaves.
“She won’t have a choice,” Flamberge answered, bluntly.
Amity glanced at Bandolier, who was reluctant to answer his starry-eyed subordinate.
“We're doing this to protect her,” he said, though he hardly believed his own words.
“But don’t you think she’d be safer where she is? Instead of dragging her to the middle of everything?” Amity asked, "Canterlot's not safe."
Flamberge, who rarely had to work alongside Erased field agents, was beginning to become irritated.
“The orders are to retrieve her and bring her back to Canterlot. That’s all you should be worried about.”
Bandolier spoke nothing to the contrary, though a part of him held reservations over Flamberge’s blind submission to authority.
“Lavender might know something we don’t," Bandolier said, "We should all be relaxed, there’s no need to frighten her. She’s done nothing wrong. We’re just trying to keep her safe.”
“I’ll be the one keeping her safe. You Erased rats are the ones who got us into this mess. Isn’t it your job to prevent these things from happening?” Flamberge asked, glaring at Bandolier.
“Some things you can't prepare for," Bandolier said, regretfully.
“That’s what I can’t understand. Nopony ever wants to take responsibility. If you’re going to agree to do a job, you better well do it. That goes for you too, miss cheerleader. I know you were the one supposed to protect that Yak prince. Well done, another one bites the dust.”
“Take it easy,” Bandolier said, defensively stepping between a red-faced Amity and a hostile Flamberge.
"Ember, Thorax, Posh...You knew that they were all in correspondence with each other," Flamberge spat, "You knew that they were up to something. But you couldn't find out what. Well, somepony else did. If you had been quicker, if you had done your job, they'd still be alive."
"I can't change the past," Bandolier said, "More ponies may be at risk, including Lavender."
Flamberge scoffed.
“This time I’ll be sure everything goes according to plan,” Flamberge assured, puffing his chest out.
Bandolier sighed through his nose, and kept his eyes shooting straight forwards. The last thing he wanted then was a brutish hothead spitting doubts into the back of his brain, but it seemed no one could always get what they wanted.
The trio continued deeper into the forest, the sparkling tips of Lavender’s palace spires harking their arrival from the treeline.
Eyelids heavy and back aching, Alias reviewed the stack of documents sitting on his desk one last time before giving in and calling it for the night.
No progress, no luck.
The control center of the Erased’s Canterlot base was empty except for him now, a single halogen lamp illuminating the dark dungeon buried several stories beneath the earth.
“Why bother wasting your time with all that?”
Alias nearly fell out of his chair, when the gravelly voice of Detective Gore came rattling out from the darkness.
“How did you get in here?" Alias yelled, rising to his hooves. The compound was supposed to be the most secure place in Equestria, after all.
“Peddling around the truth won’t save any lives, Alias,” the griffin detective muttered, his hat and coat revealing themselves out of the shadows. His talons scraped the floor, and his face was weary and grieved.
“What have you found? I haven’t heard from you in days,” Alias said.
Gore raised his head, golden irises reflecting the lamplight, shining like torches.
“We’ve reached the same conclusion, have we not?”
Alias glared at him, uncertain what he was getting at.
Gore sighed.
“Whose ceremony brought them all together? Whose silence has been the most puzzling? Who would have the ambition, the drive, the capability? There was only ever one answer. Only nobody could possibly have the heart to acknowledge it.”
“Lucky for us you haven’t got a heart,” Alias said, lowering his head.
Gore hesitated, waiting for Alias to give in.
Alias shook his head regretfully.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Alias said, astounded. “...What would you have me do? If it was her, we have no idea as to why. And we can't do much without knowing that. The way things are now, if it gets out that it was her, there would be riots, there would be chaos! More death and destruction, more than anyone could possibly control or contain!” Alias exclaimed.
“That all depends on how we react," Gore said, "First, not everyone may be allowed to know. We no longer know exactly who we can trust. There could be accomplices. Allies. Spies. Who knows? We must be cautious.”
Alias nodded his head in agreement.
“I think it's best to let Cadance know," Gore continued, "I spoke with her the other day. By my own judgment, she has no idea of what her sister-in-law has done. Which means she may be our only hope - only Cadance could be powerful enough to stop her. Celestia and Luna are both missing, as you know, and even if we found them, they're getting old. Their power is withering. Meanwhile Twilight seems to get stronger every day."
“This is too drastic, Gore, even for you. Challenging whatever game Twilight is playing could jeopardize the peace she’s allowed for the meantime.”
“How much longer before she finishes what she’s started? This may not be over. We might as well intervene while we’re able,” Gore argued.
"And what exactly has she started? Knowing she's the culprit isn't enough for us to make the first move. For all we know those creatures could have had it coming."
Gore laughed in disbelief.
"Listen to yourself. Content to bury the truth if it means staying on Twilight's good side," Gore snarled, "She might have gone mad. She might have seen them as a threat. She might have wanted revenge. Perhaps all of those, all at once."
Alias shook his head, discouraged by Gore's certainty.
"Twilight Sparkle has endured against many of Equestria's greatest enemies. Not once had she ever resorted to this kind of violence, of cruelty. This is not in her nature," Alias pointed out.
"She isn't being possessed, if that's what you're getting at," Gore said, glad to dismiss such an idea, "I spoke with her, recently. She knows what she's done. She is conscious of it all, and of all the lies that have come since. And she even has a plan to control the damage. She told me as much herself, probably hoping it would be enough to deter me from pressing the investigation."
Alias glanced at the ground, again distraught to have lost another plausible excuse.
"Why?
"To have been driven to such lengths...Only a few possibilities come to mind," Gore continued, "To spare Equestria from a terrible fate, perhaps, one in which the only means of salvation lay in that bloody sacrifice. Or, she might have come to crack under the weight of her own crown, and, in a state of emotional unrest, something triggered her wrath."
"A threat to her friends, to her loved ones?" Alias proposed.
"Perhaps," Gore shrugged, "We ought to begin with the circumstantial suspects - those who might have had something to do with the murders, as a witting or unwitting accomplice. Lady Lavender, Mayor Mare, Starlight Glimmer, Princess Celestia, and Princess Luna. One of them is bound to provide a lead."
"Starlight Glimmer has disappeared. So has Celestia and Luna. Perhaps Twilight got to them all first," Alias said, "I've sent three agents to bring in Lavender. Mayor Mare might be harder to catch....Why not Cadance?"
Gore glared at him.
"Cadance is the only pony in all of Equestria who I trust is not an accomplice. We need to make her an asset, immediately, before Twilight finds a chance to put a leash on her."
"That would mean telling her everything," Alias shuddered, "Otherwise her loyalties would remain with Twilight."
"Precisely," Gore said.
Alias shook his head, hardly willing to humor such an idea.
"On the off-chance that Cadance even listens to us," Alias growled, "Twilight might already have a plan for this. Public opinion is in her favor. Nopony aside from the two of us has even an inkling of suspicion. To levy such an accusation, to turn a princess into our accomplice, would be playing all of our cards on the first move. Whatever her reason, it is clear that turning Cadance to our side this early would risk setting Twilight onto another warpath. Equestria would soon find itself at civil war. "
Gore sighed, disappointed with Alias' apparent lack of foresight.
"The war is inevitable." Gore said, plainly. Alias' eyes widened, horrified at Gore's unflinching conviction.
"It's been inevitable, ever since the murders. Twilight knows this. She likely knew before she even drew first blood."
"No," Alias stammered, "You're sensationalizing. The situation is normal."
"It will be, for a time," Gore said, "Twilight plans to present a culprit, at some point. Otherwise the other kingdoms will declare outright war, and Equestria will go up in flames. Her culprit will likely be one of her own accomplices. That may satisfy the changelings, the hippogriffs, and even all of Equestria. But the dragons are a different story. If the dragons do get the tase of war, Twilight will be glad to unite the other kingdoms against a common enemy and crush them. Still, there might be more I don't know yet. This may only be the beginning of what she's planning. Her enemies may be gathering, even now. I've been sure of it since Ponyville. Blood will have blood."
Alias slammed his hoof on the table.
“I don't believe you. I will not risk starting a war. Not like this. And you will not tell a soul of any of this. Especially Cadance.”
Gore snarled, though Alias was undeterred.
“You play with lives like they’re meaningless. Your cowardice is exactly what Twilight needs to get what she wants, whatever that is. We’ll be playing into her plan.”
Alias was unwilling to falter, however, and nodded towards the door.
“Get out. And if you’re as smart as you think, then never come back.”
Gore scoffed in disbelief, and stomped back into the darkness, leaving Alias alone once more.
Alias fell back into his chair, and pushed the stack of files to the edge of the table. He reached for a cigarette, but his box was empty.
Red light flooded the frozen corridors of Hellhatch Penitentiary.
“Something’s gone wrong,” Starlight muttered, sprinting around a corner. Wallflower, who was not quite as athletically inclined as Starlight, trailed behind, gasping for breath.
Once the vault doors’ emergency lock had sealed, Starlight had been forced to reorganize the plan. They were all separated from each other now, and Starlight could only hope that Trixie had found Sunset and that they had stolen Steel Shackle’s keys.
The blaring alarms, therefore, did not spell out any relief.
Wallflower felt like crying, as the deafening alarm shook her skull and disoriented her balance.
“This way,” Starlight whispered, leading Wallflower to a solid metal door at the end of the hallway.
Starlight tugged on the handle, though it refused to budge.
“Locked,” Starlight said, and began to turn around to look for another route.
“Wait,” Wallflower said, retrieving her stolen keycard.
The door buzzed open, to both ponies’ joy, though their celebration would be brief.
Stepping through the door, the ponies discovered the front foyer, and in it a sea of inmates crowded together, brawling, yelling, and scurrying in a jumbled mess of bodies.
“Looks like everypony else thought the same thing,” Wallflower said, between gasps for air.
“Come on, we can’t stop...We can still meet the others at the carriage yard from outside,” Starlight said.
Starlight tugged on Wallflower’s front leg, and together they entered the rioting crowd.
A line of guards carrying shields and batons met the crowd at one end of the facility foyer, enraging the inmates and inciting a deadly battle of brutality.
Starlight pushed forwards through the crowd, though at some point she lost track of Wallflower’s leg in the tumbling chaos.
“Wallflower!” Starlight yelled, though the noise of the crowd was too thunderous to be heard over.
Starlight spotted a stairwell leading to a series of catwalks above, and made her towards it.
Starlight’s hoof vanished, and Wallflower was left adrift in a sea of colliding bodies.
Avoiding her inclination to panic, Wallflower wound her way through the crowd, taking refuge behind the team of stallions attempting to bring down the front gate.
Wallflower kept out of sight, while the rioters pushed and hollered and heaved and roared; but no matter their efforts, the front gate would not budge.
Wallflower shrieked, when a bullet of pure sparkling white magic came beaming past her nose, striking a rioter in the back of his knee.
The stallion’s leg caved in, and he came crashing to the ground.
He would be joined by his compatriots soon enough, however, when the prison guards arranged in a row from behind them began launching their counter-assault on the rioters.
The unicorn guards fired their horns without ceasing, blasting apart rioters to pieces before they even knew what hit them.
But the crowd of inmates was too dense to be kept down for long, and those in the front that had survived the first wave took advantage of a temporary ceasefire for the guards to cool off their horns; the inmates rushed towards the guards, and the brawl was reignited.
Bullets whizzed and bodies flew across the room; fire and smoke engulfed the banisters and catwalks.
Wallflower, however, was deathly afraid of being blasted to bits, and she instead took to covering herself in the corpses of the inmates around her, hoping to remain unnoticed until the chaos would be relieved.
Breaking free of the crowd of rioters, Starlight, now a bit bruised and sweaty from nearly being trampled, climbed up the stairwell to the topmost catwalk, by a series of large barred windows. She recognized those windows as the front of the prison, and realized that she was in the front foyer.
Her eyes scanned the crowd below for Wallflower, though the curly-haired earth pony was nowhere to be seen.
But there was only so much time she could spend searching, and after five minutes Starlight forced herself to continue on alone.
She had to find a way to get outside, though without her magic that would prove a challenge.
She ran across the catwalks, passing by the barred windows, searching for some sort of weakness in the front wall she could exploit.
She found one, at last: a loose bar hanging from its socket over one of the windows.
She smiled, and prepared herself to make the jump through.
“Starlight?”
She stopped herself, spinning around to find Fuchs, wearing a neat officer’s uniform, a baton in hoof.
“What are you doing?”
“I...uh...I was just...um...,” Starlight said, struggling to reignite her faux flirtatious façade, “Fuchs…”
Fuchs glared at her, and Starlight noticed that light in his eyes had faded somewhat, and he almost appeared like a different pony. Harder. Crueler.
He crept towards her, steadily, as if she was some wild animal to be examined.
“What've you done?” he asked, glancing down at the rioters facing off against the guards
Starlight shuddered, as he drew closer. His hoof fell against her face, gently, and she wanted badly to pull away.
He noticed this, and held her closer towards him.
“You’re hurting me,” she muttered, as terror seized her heart. She had not yet considered that he may have had a change of heart, that he may be trying to kill her.
“Over here!” he yelled, raising his head viciously to a group of guards about to rush down a nearby stairway to aid in combating the rioters.
He glanced back down at her, betrayed, as he had once believed her to have truly cared for him. He understood then all that he was to her, and, broken in pieces as he was prior, he was locked around her, until death should either of them part.
But Starlight was not one for such romantics, especially since her clock was ticking.
The group of guards heard Fuchs’ cry, and rushed towards them, but Starlight knew better than to wait to be cornered.
Kicking back against the railing, she forced apart Fuchs’ grip and rammed him towards the other end.
Fuchs yelled in anger as he toppled over the railing, falling down below into the sea of rioters.
Starlight, though hoping she had not killed Fuchs, whom she pitied, did not look down to see whether he had lived through the fall.
The guards were nearly upon her, and she was forced to retreat back down the stairs she had come, hoping to discover another way out.
While the sirens cried, Sunset and Trixie wisely chose not to stick around Steel Shackle’s office.
Unlocking their horns, they both had to take a moment to welcome the intense relief of freedom.
“Our magic won’t come back for a few minutes, the effects have to wear off. Don’t try a spell. It’ll hurt. A lot,” Sunset warned.
They took off down the catwalks, not noticing as the roaring of the rioters somewhere below them intensified.
Sunset’s magic, though headache reaping, happened to return first.
“Trixie, navigate. I’ll handle the company,” Sunset said, “It’s finally time we warmed things up around here.”
For the first time in decades, the inmates of Hellhatch could not complain about the cold.
Fire swept every corridor they passed; Sunset’s horn was a fountain of fury. She aimed for every support structure, every barrack, every office she could find; there would be nothing but ash if she was to be left unhindered.
“The carriage yard should be around two corners, down the long path, make a right.”
Sunset was barely listening, focusing only on leaving as much destruction in her wake as possible.
The interior of the prison was ridden in flames that bled and seethed like savage animals, and could not be quenched.
Trixie led Sunset down a series of corridors, until they were right upon the carriage yard doors on the eastern side of the facility.
Sunset turned to keep an eye out for guards, while Trixie ran for the doors.
Trixie jostled the handles eight times, without success.
Sunset scoffed, and ignited her horn, preparing to blast down the door.
Her spell, however, did little against the surface of the door, disintegrating upon impact.
“Magic resistant. Of course,” Sunset said, tilting her head back in despair.
“Looks like we’re stuck here,” Trixie said.
Then the two of them were shaken alert, when they heard the distinct sound of marching hooves come bellowing out from around the corner.
“Do you hear that?” Trixie whispered, and she began to turn white.
Sunset had a deranged grin on her face.
“No problem. We’ll just hold them off,” Sunset said, glancing at Trixie to validate her plan.
“Right…” Trixie repeated, gulping down her fears, “N-no problem.”
They held their ground, as the guards drew closer, until the sound of their clacking hooves was so close Sunset believed they were right on top of them.
She tensed up, and her horn glowed brilliant turquoise once more.
The earth above them shook, as if a stampede of ponies was rushing past overhead.
“What is that?” Lightning muttered, while Suri helped her along through the maintenance tunnel.
“No idea,” Suri replied, struggling to keep Lightning from falling.
Lightning was leaking blood the whole way through the tunnel, and Suri knew that the guards would not have a hard time finding them if they were to only look. She was constantly checking behind them, past the dim service lights into the darkness. Every faint drop of water, or creak or cry, put Suri on high alert.
“Wait,” Lightning groaned, suddenly, after about fifteen minutes of trudging through the darkness.
Suri stopped, setting Lightning down to the ground. She needed the rest herself.
“We can’t stop for long, OK?” Suri said.
“We’d better not. This is it, I’m pretty sure. Right here. Check the map.”
Suri had not studied the map as carefully as Lightning had, and so was not sure whether she was right.
Pulling the tunnel map out of her jumpsuit, she inspected the pathways, and discovered that they were only a few meters away from the carriage yard.
“Close enough,” Suri said.
“You’d do well to take a step back. Once I get this thing set up, it’s going to be quite loud, OK,” Suri said, retrieving the makeshift bomb.
Lightning understood, crawling away from Suri, who began preparing the explosive.
“Ready?”
Lightning did not answer, as she was already plugging each ear with her hooves.
Suri took a deep breath, before pressing down on the detonator.
The cat was out of the bag.
On solid ground above, snow, dirt, and gravel came shooting up like a geyser, a fiery torrent driving the cloud of dust into the air.
Lightning and Suri were blinded by dust and dirt, and before either of them knew it the world fell to blackness.
Starlight checked behind her once more, and was distressed to see the guards were still giving chase.
She was out of breath, having ran around the winding series of catwalks while the rioters below kept on their rampage.
Cornered in a centerpoint fix, Starlight’s eyes darted back and forth to the guards encircling her, in front, behind, left, right. There was no escape.
But Suri’s bomb was stronger than any of the ponies had thought, and the stentorian cavalcade of ferocity was like an earthquake, rattling the catwalks right out of their foundations.
While the guards were losing their balance, Starlight felt the strip of metal she was standing on begin to swing downwards, having been shaken loose from its screws.
The guards in front of her rushed towards her, and, without much time to mull it over, Starlight climbed onto the railing and launched herself forward, while the catwalk spiraled down into the unsuspecting crowd below.
She landed hard against her side, though luckily she was relatively unscathed.
But she could not get up in time, while the rioters managed to force the front gate open, with the help of the earth-trembling explosion from outside.
Starlight felt hooves trample over her as if she was another lifeless corpse, and she screamed and gasped for breath, but there was nopony to hear her.
Then a hoof found her through the rowdy crowd of rioters running out through the gate to freedom, and it pulled her out towards some of the burning rubble.
“Wallflower!” Starlight said, wiping dust from her face, relieved.
“We haven’t got much time. They may not have left yet!” Wallflower exclaimed, helping Starlight back to her hooves.
They followed the rioters out through the front gate, but were deterred to press on, at the sight of the mound of bodies stacking up.
Turrets from the battlement walls had opened fire, laying waste to any poor pony that was caught outside in the snow.
“This way!” Starlight said, pulling Wallflower away from the stream of rioters running to their deaths.
Starlight led them to a hole she had spotted in the fencing, leading towards the eastern side of the facility.
Suri awakened to blinding white light, and a mouthful of dirt.
Lightning Dust was lying next to her, having just managed to lift herself and Suri out from the dirt they were buried alive under. Scampers was alive too, covered in dirt, but alive.
“You saved me,” Suri said, between coughs, “Is it too late to say I was wrong about you?” she asked.
Lightning scowled.
“Don’t mention it. To anypony.”
Suri shrugged, indifferent.
They picked themselves up and took a look around.
“Guards will be here soon. We should leave. Now,” Lightning said, limping towards the carriages parked nearby, with Scampers perched on her back.
They had made it to the yard, precisely as planned. Lightning spotted the library carriage, a banner with ‘Bookmark’s Emporium’ in bold written across it.
But this time Suri did not go along with Lightning, and she stood as she was in the snow.
“What’s the matter with you? We can’t stay here,” Lightning said.
Suri raised an eyebrow.
Lightning’s scowl hardened.
“They’re dead weight now. We try to go back, and we’ll end up the same. Let’s cut our losses, and get out of here while we can.”
Suri shook her head.
“Neither of us are well enough now to pull that carriage. We need them,” she said.
Lightning stared at her, and then cursed under her breath.
“...I’ll get the carriage ready. You go inside and look for them.”
Suri nodded, and promptly turned to leave.
“Wait,” Lightning said, “Hand me that bag.”
Suri glanced down at her bag, which still contained the two remaining bombs.
Suri conceded the bag over to lightning, deciding to accommodate her so long as she would go along with helping the others.
The guards' numbers never seemed to deplete, no matter how many Sunset and Trixie shot down with their magic.
Trixie had avoided killing anypony, resorting to mild stun-blasts; in contrast Sunset’s fury only worsened, as the guards kept on pouring out towards them pressed against the carriage yard door.
“Upstairs!” Sunset yelled, nodding up towards a nearby stairwell.
There was a series of platforms held firmly against the walls that led into a wide, open storage facility.
“There’s too many!” Trixie cried, running backwards up the stairs while she and Sunset continued holding the onslaught of guards back.
Suri reached the door into the facility, and peered through the window, hoping to find Starlight, or Trixie, or even Wallflower Blush.
But all she saw were bodies, and more guards rushing in from around a corner and up a nearby stairwell.
Suri jumped back, and could not move again; she had not considered that the others may all be dead, that maybe Lightning was right and they should leave while they still drew breath.
Suri ran away from the door back towards the carriage, expecting to find Lightning. But the pegasus was gone.
She wondered if she could make it out if on her own, if there was any point to going back for the others. She shut her eyes tight, and the pressure then swallowed her up entirely.
On the other side of that door, the last of the guards filed in around the field of corpses left by Sunset. And the last to enter was Steel Shackle, blood running down his head, part of his skull visible for all to see.
The guards fell silent, and the warden glanced at one, who meekly pointed upwards to the platforms above.
The warden snickered and stormed towards the stairwell.
Sunset and Trixie were now back against back, frantically firing with everything they had.
Sunset’s maniacal method was broken, however, when Steel Shackle came galloping out from the row of guards, tackling Sunset to the ground.
Trixie was now holding off the guards in either direction, while Steel Shackle gained the upper hand over Sunset.
He dug his hooves into her throat, and she tried to scream, but her vocal chords were too compressed for any sound to escape.
Trixie was beginning to slip, and the guards moved closer.
Then glass came spraying out from the adjacent window, welcoming Lightning Dust, in flight once more.
Lightning barreled through not only the glass but the metal bars too, suffering some major bruises to her face and chest. She had one of Suri’s bombs in hoof, tossing it over to the group of guards to Trixie’s right.
“Watch out!” yelled one, but it was far too late.
The explosion sent everypony flying back, while part of the platform gave out and began to collapse.
The explosion had ruptured one of the nearby gas tanks, and a second explosion blew apart the rest of the platform.
Steel Shackle, with a chunk of his head dented in, was still intent on bringing Sunset down with him, grabbing a hold of her back hoof as she held onto the attached portion of the platform, while the rest began to succumb to the fires and subsequent pocket explosions.
“You’ll never be free of me,” Steel Shackle yelled, while Sunset readjusted her grip, “I’ll find you, wherever you go!” he bellowed.
Sunset glared down at him, while the fires raged brighter.
“No you won’t.”
Sunset kicked down with her other back leg, and broke Steel Shackle’s grip loose.
The warden fell thirty feet into those fires screaming, and disappeared beneath the flames right as another gas tank was set ablaze.
Sunset pulled herself up onto the sturdy part of the platform, where Trixie and Lightning Dust were.
“Is she alright?” Sunset asked, glancing down at Lightning Dust, who was bloodied and bruised and currently unconscious.
“She’s breathing,” Trixie said, and was not sure if that counted.
Sunset glanced around at the storage warehouse, and was amazed, as the entire facility seemed to be going up in flames. All of their escapes seemed to be cut off by the fires, and their safe spot would not last for long.
“Well, I guess it couldn’t get much worse than this.”
The platform beneath them then gave a response, a heart-stopping creak and a snap of a bolt, and in a flash the platform came crashing down into the flames below.
Sunset and Trixie were screaming all the way, when the platform landed on solid ground.
They were not yet engulfed in flame, though Sunset did notice a distressing number of guards noticing them from the ground level.
Sunset shot down two to begin with, and then spun around to blast a hole through the wall, which, to her relief, was not magic resistant.
The wall was vaporized on impact, carving a hole large enough for a carriage to fit through.
“Trixie! Get Lightning out! Go!” Sunset yelled, while she continued firing at the guards running towards them.
Trixie lifted Lightning up by her front leg, and dragged her out into the snow; she was taken aback by the feeling, but was only glad not to be burned alive.
Then Trixie came to a sudden halt, when the sound of tumbling debris broke out from behind her.
Trixie spun around and saw the hole now filled, the building having caved in upon itself.
Trixie gasped, horrified.
“Trixie!”
Trixie turned and saw Starlight and Wallflower marching through the snow towards them. Their smiles quickly faded at the sight of Lightning’s half-dead body, and Sunset’s absence.
“She’s still in there, Starlight! She’s alive, I know it!”
Starlight looked over at the collapsed building, and her hopes were dwindling.
“Let’s go,” Starlight said.
Trixie threw Starlight the keys to her horn lock, which Starlight immediately used to free herself.
Starlight, Wallflower, and Trixie with Lightning Dust, reached the piled-up debris, and none were sure where to even start.
“There!” Wallflower exclaimed, pointing at a spot in the rubble.
Wallflower dug through the rock and metal, and found what she had seen a glimpse of: Sunset’s hoof, stained grey by dust.
Wallflower pulled Sunset’s limp body out from the rubble, laying her out in the snow. “Is she…?” Starlight asked.
Wallflower slowly bent down to feel for a pulse, until Sunset coughed up some dust directly into Wallflower’s face. “Some way to say thank you,” Wallflower muttered. “What more did you expect?” Sunset replied, weakly smiling. Wallflower smiled back.
Then she shrieked in agony, and fell forwards to her chest, when a magic bullet flew directly through her leg.
Starlight threw herself in front of the others, and began blocking the guards’ shots with a defensive bubble of bright blue magic.
Sunset crawled over to Wallflower, who was reeling in pain. “What do we do?” Sunset asked, dizzy and damaged.
Starlight lacked an answer, simply igniting her horn and waiting for the guards to get on her bad side.
But luckily they were spared from that, when a carriage labeled ‘Bookmark’s Emporium’ came rolling down the hill past where Starlight and the others were, running down four guards in the process.
It was Suri who appeared from behind the carriage, covered in dirt and bruises, but smiling nonetheless.
“Unless you plan on sticking around here, I suggest we should be leaving, OK?” “Way ahead of you,” Starlight replied.
Trixie helped dump Lightning in the passengers’ compartment, alongside Wallflower. Suri hung back with them both to keep an eye on their condition, while Starlight and Trixie quickly attached themselves to the harnesses.
Sunset took it upon herself to lay on top of the compartment, dusting herself off as if she had not just been nearly crushed to death.
Starlight glanced at Trixie, who was stretching her legs out in the snow.
“I told you we’d make it,” Starlight said.
“We’re not out yet,” Trixie corrected.
The two of them began to gain their stride, before taking off into a full sprint towards the external gate.
A slick left turn stuck them in line with the departure gate, while the carriage endured a barrage of guards’ fire from the rear.
Sunset answered them with a firestorm of her own, laying waste to everything they left behind them.
“Don’t stop!” Starlight yelled, while the carriage continued gaining momentum.
Approaching the gate, Sunset blasted it open, while Starlight shot down the two guards stationed nearby, knocking each unconscious.
Sunset found the last bomb in Suri’s bag, activated it, and threw it up at one of the battlement walls.
The wall broke apart into pieces, guards falling off into the icy moat below.
And, with the road ahead clear, they continued pulling the carriage forward, without breaking pace, and never looking back.
Everything was precisely in order.
His notes were priceless, detailing every interaction he had overheard, every interview, quote, and theory, everything he could possibly gather that led to his fateful conclusion.
Twilight Sparkle was a murderer.
Gore tucked his notebook in his briefcase, and continued on his leisurely stroll through the streets of the Crystal Empire. Of course, he knew that he was being followed.
Since he had first left Canterlot, he noticed those watchful eyes, those black suits, those familiar faces. He was marked. Or at least, he would be, if he made one step out of line.
Curiously, he appeared unphased by this breach of privacy. He was beyond that now. Beyond his own chance at life, should it mean living while justice crumbles and more innocents perish.
He never believed in the Erased, nor the royal authority either for that matter. Knowing that Equestria’s princess was the monster her own minions were searching for, was more so a cruel joke than a horrifying discovery.
He had accepted it then, that these breaths would be his last. His life had been devoted to justice, and thus so would his death. The secret could not linger in the Erased’s vault, nor could it die with him. Something had to be done.
He snuck into the Crystal palace as he always had, through some air vents and around some less-visited corridors.
On the royal family’s personal floor, he planted the notebook squarely on Cadance’s desk, and disappeared back into the shadows.
He passed by Flurry Heart’s room, and he was comforted, knowing that there might someday be redemption for the crown. He could not imagine what the future would hold otherwise. And besides, he knew he would not be able to see it for himself.
All it took was twenty-five steps out from the palace steps, when he felt a sharp prick in his neck, and the world had fallen to darkness.
He breathed his last while face down on the city streets, and he dared not beg for mercy. He went with ease, knowing that justice might prevail.
Stained glass sunlight welcomed the ensemble of soldiers marching in step. Armed to the tooth with spears, shields, and swords, they were ready for war.
Three stood at the helm before the throne, their eyes all cast down at the spotless marble floor.
The first, Redshift, was a mare, a unicorn, dark velvet in color with a bright magenta mane cut short on the sides. Her eyes were green, and sharp like a serpent’s.
The second, Hawkbit, was a pegasus stallion, with a movie-star handsome face, short combed bark-colored hair, and a slim jaw.
And the third, Snowfall Glitter, was another unicorn mare, frost white with icy blue eyes and a curly pale blonde mane.
They were three of the Nine, Twilight's own elite unit of hand-picked guards.
“Your highness,” Snowfall began. Two rows of guards stood at attention behind her, stretching back to those mighty oak doors.
Twilight’s eyes faded between the bleeding light echoing across pillars.
There were ghosts there, she could see, resembling the unfortunate dead, the victims of her betrayal. They surrounded her, with silent, merciless eyes.
Pleading, begging, weeping, but none could utter a word.
And she could hear a voice belonging to Starlight, a hollow echo repeating the same words over and over.
Please don't do this.
Twilight winced, as panic began to set in.
She rarely left the castle these days. And though she would much prefer to wallow in isolation or distract herself with a book, she was instead being treated to an unprompted military parade.
“Lieutenant,” Twilight replied, coldly. She did not lift her head from its rest, nor did she even spare a menial glance of acknowledgement.
Snowfall cleared her throat. She brushed a blonde lock away from her eye with a shaky hoof.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, your highness. Secretary Archangel notified command of the incident up north, he assumed you would have orders,” Snowfall said, hoping she wasn’t wrong.
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
Snowfall hesitated.
“Hellhatch, your highness,” Snowfall elaborated; Twilight sat up suddenly.
“Starlight Glimmer,” Hawkbit continued with a disinterested grunt, “Sunset Shimmer, a few other civilian accomplices. They escaped during a riot, killed some guards, and burned half the place down to the ground.”
Twilight felt nauseous. “The scouts reported they were heading south, to the Crystal Empire…” Redshift said.
“That is...unsettling news,” Twilight said, her voice trembling slightly. Of course Sunset and Starlight would have worked together, why had she not considered that? “...I want you to contact the personnel registrar. Starlight Glimmer, Sunset Shimmer, and anypony who aided them are to be designated national fugitives. The Intelligence Agency has considered they may have played a role in the Ponyville murders. If they're on the loose, ponies' lives may be at risk. "
Snowfall’s eyes widened.
“Your highness, this all must be some sort of a mistake," she said, half-laughing in disbelief, "Starlight would never-”
“I was not asking for your thoughts on the matter,” Twilight scolded. Snowfall shut her mouth. She bowed her head and kept it there, holding her tongue.
“I want Starlight Glimmer to be found and brought in. Alive, if manageable. The others as well,” Twilight struggled to say. She knew she could not do it herself if it had to be done; she could not look into those eyes and see the light of a friend fade into that pale void.
“Begin in the Crystal Empire," Twilight continued, "Attempt to intercept them. I trust you all to handle them as need be.”
"Can't the Crystal Army handle this?" Hawkbit yawned.
"Starlight and Sunset will undoubtedly prove too much for them," Twilight said, "I need you three to take care of this."
“But, your highness, what if she’s innocent?” Snowfall asked, lifting her head back up.
“Does it matter?” Hawkbit muttered, passively.
“It it comes to violence, ponies might get hurt for no good reason,” Snowfall said.
"Last time I checked, your job is to do as I command," Twilight said, "Not to question me. Or am I mistaken?"
"No, of course not, your highness, of course I'll obey. I only-" Snowfall attempted.
"You know your orders," Twilight interrupted, "Do not fail me."
Snowfall held her tongue before she could protest again. Redshift was glaring at her.
“As you wish, your highness,” Snowfall replied.
Twilight kept herself composed still, despite her heart beating like a drum; she was at risk of compromise, as long as Starlight drew breath. Her path was narrow, and for these obstacles that impeded her ambitions, she feared how drastic her retaliation would have to be. Was that all Starlight was to her now? An obstacle? There was no other choice, she told herself. Starlight would never understand, never believe what she had to say. Twilight cursed herself. She could not waste time indulging foolish hopes of reconciliation. The die was long cast. And consorting with Sunset Shimmer just about sealed the deal. Old friendships were now worth little. The second Starlight had caught sight of the blood, her fate was made certain. Twilight only wished she had the strength to accept that horrible truth. She was closer to a sister, once. But no matter the past, the new result was clear.
Redshift bowed her head and led the entire company of soldiers out from the throne room. A sinister smirk held itself taut on her face; blood would be spilt today.
Waltzing between two marble doorposts, Blondie’s nerves were getting the better of him.
He blended in well with the other Black Hoof enforcers; a sharp tailored jet-black suit and shirt, and a tie to match. He was one of them, or at least he appeared to be, if the police were to be concerned.
“Oh, fantastic, the bushrat’s here. C’mere, Blondie, take a gander. You’ll be interested in this one,” said Crozer, lounging back into his leather chair. This was his office, which was far more of a spectacle than the rest of the downtrodden Den.
The office, sat atop a crimson carpet, held great stone columns, featured priceless works of art, and boasted of high tech screens mounted to the walls. In the far end and sides, tall windows bore moonlight that flooded the room.
Blondie glanced over at Salt Shaker, who had been waiting inside. The giant seemed uncertain what this meeting was all about. There were other Black Hoof cronies in the room, all with sickly, twisted grins on their faces.
“Are you deaf? Dumb? Both? I said c’mere,” Crozer snarled.
Blondie followed the command, dragging his hooves on the carpet.
“Anvil. Show him,” Crozer ordered.
Anvil, who was stationed beside Crozer at his desk, flipped a few switches on a remote control, and a television mounted to the side wall suddenly came to life.
It was Brandy, the girl who had pulled Blondie into this mess all those weeks ago. She had a cotton cloth stuffed in her mouth, and her cerulean dress was half-torn.
Blondie frantically glanced at Salt Shaker, who could provide no relief.
“The Underground sent us these pictures today. They get worse the farther you go. Giving her a rough bout alright,” Crozer cackled, “Serves her right, is what I say. She ran away.”
Blondie flinched, and swiveled to face Crozer, glaring with blood-red eyes. Anvil stepped in front of him, and smirked; he would love another turn at beating Blondie into pulp.
Anvil towered over Blondie, who was by no means short; from afar, Salt Shaker took a step forward.
“Down, boy,” Anvil said.
"A real bunch of tough guys. The girl is the one taking the heat, while you're sitting here with cold hooves," Blondie said, sticking a cigarette in his mouth, "This pony, Trench, and the Underground, they've got the girl, they've got the Canterlot folks protecting them, you told me so. And here you are, with nothing."
Crozer’s laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.
“I could have you dead in a ditch, anytime, and nobody would give a damn. Except me, only because I’d miss the daily entertainment of you trying your hardest to act tough. You’ve got nothing on me. Nothing on nobody. I own you.”
Blondie glanced back at Brandy on the screen, her face bruised and bloodied.
Crozer bore his toothy grin once again.
“Oh, right. Forgive my memory. Blondie wants to save his damsel in distress. Let me put it another way, then. The only reason they haven’t killed her yet, is because they need this…” Crozer glanced over to the other side of the room, where two guards were stationed near a large grey safe.
“Yes...Inside there, that briefcase is your insurance that she lives. You do as I say, and when we get her back, I may let you see her one last time before I chop her up and send her to the deli,” Crozer said, bursting into laughter. Anvil, and the other Black Hoof cronies too, all followed his example. Salt Shaker remained silent.
"You're losing the race," Blondie chirped, glancing between Anvil and Crozer, "I can see you're not taking it well."
Crozer's smile faded. He rose from his chair, approaching Blondie with a terrifying scowl.
"One of these days my boys will steal back that broad," Crozer snarled, "And when they do, I'll make sure she knows I might've let her live, if her little loverboy had only taken that stick out of his ass."
Crozer spat at Blondie's hooves and turned back around.
“Now run along. Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ll let you know what those Underground bastards are doing to her. Wouldn’t want to miss any details,” Crozer said.
Blondie scoffed and stormed towards the exit, while Crozer and his subordinates all broke down into laughter like a flock of seagulls.
“Blondie.”
Halfway down the hallway towards the elevator, Salt Shaker caught up to him.
“You’ve got to learn to keep a cool head.”
“Bother somepony else.”
“You’re only lucky he thinks you're a riot,” Salt Shaker said, right as Blondie slammed the elevator button.
Blondie checked over his shoulder and pulled Salt Shaker in after him.
Once the doors were closed, and the elevator began to descend, Blondie sporadically turned to face Salt Shaker.
“Salt."
"Blondie."
"I think I've gotten tired of running penny jobs for that lowlife. And I'd wager you must be too."
Salt Shaker chuckled.
“You want to kill him?”
“I want a lot of things. Killing would suffice.”
Salt Shaker only shook his head, but Blondie was persistent.
“They're going to kill that girl soon enough, if somepony doesn't do something," Blondie said.
“The Underground needs her alive to open the case.”
“This stake won’t last forever. Someone will get bored soon enough.”
“With all those bits on the line? I think not. Everypony wants that blasted case, no matter what they've got to give up. The longer we wait, the more the bid rises. But nobody can sell the damn thing before we figure out to open it.”
“She’s dead either way. You heard him, he’ll kill her as soon as he’s finished opening the case.”
Salt Shaker raised an eyebrow, hesitant to admit Brandy was doomed regardless.
“We could end all of this,” Blondie insisted.
“And how do you plan on doing that?”
Blondie’s devious smirk intensified, right as the elevator dinged to a stop.
“We’re stealing that briefcase.”
Rust skies and odorous trails of oil, sewage, and scrum washed over the runoff-drowned streets of Manehattan. And there, amidst the dull dying greys of rotten buildings and shadowy courts, there stood three distinct splashes of color, each carrying a name to boost.
“Rainbow, don’t you think this has gone too far already? We’re not exactly cut out for this,” Fluttershy grumbled, kicking an aluminum can three meters across the weed-ridden sidewalk..
Rainbow, who had her head lowered towards the shadows of an overpass bridge adjacent to the quiet fern-laden street, had spoken little since their failed confrontation with that tobacco-chewing stallion.
“They’re hiding something. I know it,” Rainbow muttered.
“Rainbow Dash...Those ponies have weapons...Even if it is them, what makes you think we could stand a chance by ourselves? Why not tell Twilight first?” Fluttershy suggested.
Rainbow scoffed.
“Because I don’t trust Twilight, alright?”
Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie could not bring themselves to speak, too taken aback by Rainbow’s implication.
“Don’t act like I’m being crazy. We all saw how she was acting. There was something different about her, and we all noticed,” Rainbow said, spinning around to face the others.
“Uh, Rainbow...What are you saying?” Pinkie asked, confused.
Rainbow shook her head.
“Forget it. Not worth it anyways. Look, what matters is that we have a possible lead here, and we’ve just got to stick with it. Pinkie Pie! Rutherford was your friend, right?”
“Rainbow,” Fluttershy interjected, alarmed by Rainbow’s insensitivity.
Pinkie meekly lowered her head, and shut her eyes tight, as if to block out any tears from escaping.
“He would’ve wanted you to make this right," Rainbow said, "Equestria needs us to make this right. We’ve never given up on doing the right thing. Do you really want this to be the start?”
Fluttershy sighed, struggling to admit Rainbow was rather persuasive.
Fluttershy glanced at Pinkie, and the two of them reluctantly nodded, to Rainbow’s relief.
“...What’s your plan?” Fluttershy asked.
“That guy knows more than he let on, I’m sure of it. This time we’ll know what to expect.” Rainbow said.
“He won’t help us,” Fluttershy pointed out.
“He’ll come around,” Rainbow said, and her confidence put Fluttershy at ease.
Still, the risks made her uneasy.
“This could all be for nothing,” Fluttershy said.
Rainbow smirked.
“Then let's take that chance.”
Shivering from head to hoof, Sunset Shimmer beat the trembling ceiling hatch shut, not before the howling wind could blow a mouthful of fresh snow over her face.
“For the love of-” Sunset muttered, wiping herself off before collapsing down onto the floor.
The interior of the carriage was crammed with dusty droves of literature. A single dim lamp was all that shed light.
Lightning Dust had been unconscious for hours now, lying face down in a puddle of dried blood. Wallflower was not faring much better, a blackened bullet-wound weeping blood from the tip of her calf.
Suri, annoyed by Wallflower’s groaning, had decided to take a much-needed nap, though the bumpy ride made that difficult.
“The blizzard’s gotten worse,” Sunset reported, "Just our luck."
Wallflower sighed; despite their successful escape, she still felt trapped.
“Hey. I never said thanks, for coming back for me. That took guts,” Sunset said.
Wallflower nodded, appreciating Sunset’s gesture.
“She’s not looking good,” Wallflower said, glancing at Lightning.
Sunset agreed; Lightning’s skin was pale, and her wings were revoltingly contorted.
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Wallflower said.
Sunset shook her head.
“No hospitals. Too dangerous.”
“We have to. She'll die!” Wallflower exclaimed.
Sunset bit her lip, considering her options.
“If it’s her or all of us...” Sunset began.
Wallflower scoffed.
“Starlight won’t let that happen.”
Sunset tilted her head to the side.
“Starlight’s not going to be the reason I end up back behind bars.”
Wallflower gulped.
Sheepishly, she retreated back to the ground to lie down, while Sunset turned away in anger.
At the helm of the carriage, Starlight and Trixie, cursed with good health, were running low on energy by the time the blizzard finally weakened. Gasping for breath and breaking off icicles of sweat, the two of them finally collapsed around the same time in a heap of powdery snow.
Inside, Sunset first believed them to be under attack.
‘They caught up to us!’
She shook Suri alert and dashed towards the back doors, swinging them open and illuminating her horn.
But there was nopony in sight.
“Trixie!” Sunset yelled, jumping off of the carriage and marching through the snow to the foreside.
She found both keeled over, panting like a pair of marathoners.
Sunset moved to help them up, until Starlight weakly raised a hoof into the air, pointing forwards. Sunset followed the trail, but saw nothing beyond the frozen wasteland.
Then she saw it; there was a shimmering star twinkling from the horizon, no, not a star.
A city.
A smile scratched its way across Sunset’s face.
“You two head inside. Suri and I will take over,” Sunset offered.
Starlight and Trixie, who had both been dragging that carriage for nearly an entire day, gave great sighs of relief; they had been waiting for Sunset to say that.
“Is it safe?” Trixie asked, after following Starlight inside to join Wallflower and the unconscious Lightning Dust, “To go back, I mean? Starlight...Twilight’ll try to find us. She’ll…” Trixie said, recalling what horrors she had witnessed Twilight to be capable of.
Starlight wiped some sweat from her brow, and glanced into the dim light of the overhead lamp.
“We never had a choice, Trixie. It’s us against her now, there’s no other way it can be.”
“We never should have left! What can we do?!” Trixie wailed.
Starlight shook her head.
“We’re going to finish what she started,” Starlight muttered.
Fixed to her desk in her palace solar, Twilight Sparkle had just finished a letter addressed to the Lavender, the Lady of Silkwood, when she received the knock at the door. Twilight frowned. She was not expecting visitors. Not at this hour.
She finished her signature and set the letter aside, taking care to roll it up and seal it with a generous dollop of purple wax, pressed with her royal insignia.
The candles shivered when Twilight trotted past, arriving at the door with a sigh of exhaustion.
She found Spike on the other side, hovering in the air, batting his tired wings.
"Spike, do you know how late it is? What do you-...." Twilight said, before she noticed Spike had not come alone.
Behind him, trotting out from the shadowy corridor, came a familiar face, wearing a pair of bifocals and a deep red long-tail coat.
"Ms. Mayor," Twilight said, hesitantly.
"Forgive me for the late hour, your highness," Mayor Mare said, "I need to speak with you."
"...Spike, that would be all," Twilight said, before turning to the two guards posted at her door, "Prickly, Wick, you're dismissed for the night."
The two guards shared a puzzled look, while Spike lingered on for a bit, eyeing the mayor with a certain skepticism.
"Twilight, shouldn't I-"
"Spike. I'll be quite alright," Twilight said.
Twilight allowed the mayor to enter, and waited until Spike had finally flew off, along with the guards.
She shut the door behind her, gently, before Mayor Mare could let out a gasp of relief.
"Have you taken leave of your senses?" Twilight roared, "What madness brought you here? I told you to stay in Ponyville!"
"I know," Mayor Mare stammered, "But I have news. I would have sent a letter, or a raven, or a spell, but I'm fairly certain my residence is being closely monitored. I had to come myself. I plan to return before the sun rises, this won't take long."
Twilight quickly calmed herself down, rubbing at her eyes.
"Alias suspects you. Why?" Twilight demanded.
"Proximity, no doubt," Mayor Mare replied, "I've done nothing to draw attention to myself, I assure you."
"Until tonight. What news have you brought?" Twilight asked.
"There was an incident in Ponyville the other day. A stranger came into town. A pegasus, covered in surgical wounds. One of Apple Bloom's companions brought him to us, believing he was responsible for what happened."
"What made her think that?" Twilight asked, "And was this Scootaloo or Sweetie Belle?"
"Scootaloo. That's her name. Everypony is quite anxious in town, they're desperate to find the culprit. She made a childish presumption, an unfounded one, but she did provide us an unexpected opportunity."
Twilight eyed her, unsure what she was getting at.
"Nurse Redheart examined him. He's some sort of anomaly. A pegasus infused with concentrated magical extract. Whatever powers he has, they appear to be dormant, and he's unaware of what he is," Mayor Mare said.
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
"One of Alias' guinea pigs, no doubt."
"It's my belief that he would make for the perfect sacrificial lamb you've been seeking, your highness. Somepony to take the fall for everything. He seems to have no friends, no family, and little recollection of who he is and where he came from. He's ideal."
Twilight paused to consider.
"Is he still in your custody?"
"....No, he escaped to the Everfree Forest."
Twilight laughed in disbelief.
"I can't exactly offer him as a scapegoat if he's missing, can I?"
"We're doing all we can to find him. Give me one week," Mayor Mare said.
Twilight sighed.
"Very well. See that this creature is found and taken into custody," Twilight said, "I have a task for you, as well."
Mayor Mare's ears perked up.
"How may I be of service?"
"I'm planning to send emissaries to the dragons, to keep their tempers under control. I want you to accompany them," Twilight said.
Mayor Mare hesitated.
"Into the Badlands?" she said, turning pale, "Twilight. Surely I would be of better use in Ponyville, I have-"
"You will be the instrument by which we make peace with the dragons. Deliver this message to Cinder, and her alone," Twilight said, levitating a letter from her desk over to Mayor Mare, "Make them into our allies. Inform them that we have found our likely culprits, Starlight Glimmer and Sunset Shimmer. And this creature you've found, offer him to them as well."
"I....Yes, your highness. I'll do it."
"The emissaries will pass through Ponyville on their way south. You'll join them then. Until then, remain in Ponyville, and find this hybrid pegasus before he causes any complications."
"Yes, your highness. I'll find him."
Mayor Mare promptly left the solar, leaving Twilight to settle back down into her chair.
The sacrificial lamb, that's what the mayor had said. Twilight sighed. She knew it had to be done. Whether it be Alias' runaway project, or Mayor Mare herself, somepony would eventually have to pay for Twilight's crimes. Or perhaps none of them will do. Twilight flinched. The wisest choice was also the cruelest. Her own friends, her own pupils. The ponies she raised up only to cast away to a living hell. Twilight laughed to herself. She hoped Mayor Mare could locate this hybrid pegasus creature, if only to spare Starlight and Sunset the burden of her treachery.
The glistening spires of the Crystal Empire were like the gates to paradise, Sunset saw, and just to see the faces of ordinary ponies, living simple lives, returned some of the warmth she had lost.
Sunset, alongside all of her companions, had long ditched their orange jumpsuits in the snow. They would have blended in perfectly, if not for the fact they appeared as though they had just come back from war.
“Where are you taking us?” Suri muttered, having been following Sunset’s lead.
Sunset waited to answer until they were free from any potential eavesdropping pedestrians.
“...I don’t have many friends up here. But the ones I've got, I trust.”
At the east edge of the city, in a more suburban neighborhood baking in a stray spot of sunlight, Sunset led the carriage to a quaint house guarded by a blank picket fence.
“Go get the others. Don’t make much noise. I’ll handle the formalities," Sunset said.
“If that’s the case, we should be terrified,” Suri snickered, before trotting off to the carriage rear.
Sunset approached the front door and planted three square knocks at its center.
He better be home.
Seconds rolled by.
The door opened at last, albeit painfully slow.
“I pray my eyes deceive me,” came a stallion’s deep voice from the other side of the cracked door.
“It’s nice to see you too,” Sunset said, right as the others all sauntered over behind her.
The stallion threw the door open, revealing his scratchy beard and his twitching yellow eyes.
“I’ve got a job for you.”
The stallion flinched.
“Help me clear all this off,” the stallion said, brushing off his workbench table of its clutter. Glasses, beakers, marked-tubes of rare diseases, all came raining towards the ground, some shattering into pieces.
“Oh, dear. Which one?” he asked, his eyes darting sporadically between each of the mares’ troubled faces.
“Surely the one who looks to be dead already,” he continued, glancing at Lightning, “Is she dead? Good heavens. She must be. This isn’t a morgue, you know.”
“She’s not dead," Sunset said, "But she’s lost a lot of blood. We need you to patch her up, Doc. And quickly."
“Patch her up. Certainly! To think, a pony of my talents! Wasted on illicit walk-ins and stitch-jobs.”
“Quit whining. Do it,” Sunset commanded.
The doctor growled at her and reached over to help set Lightning down on the workbench.
“Um...are you a real doctor?” Trixie asked, after taking a look around the rusty saws and blood-stained knives that adorned the stallion’s workroom.
“Licensed in four territories. They call me Heartburn,” the doctor said, extending his hoof to a frazzled Trixie.
“Charmed,” she said, tilting her head with a sarcastic grin.
“Hand me that linen, would you? I’d rather not get this pony’s blood on my floor, I’ve no idea where she’s been!”
Wallflower obliged to his request, reaching for a folded white sheet resting on his couch in the adjacent living room.
“I don’t even want to know what you’ve been up to, Sunset. All I ask is that you don’t make it a habit of showing up on my door with half-dead ponies waiting to be revived!” he exclaimed, as he rubbed the two ends of a handy defibrillator against each other.
“It’s been stopped for, dare it seems, twenty minutes?”
“Twenty minutes!” Suri repeated, shocked.
“Oh, Celestia,” Starlight muttered, planting her face in her hoof.
“Can you help her?” Trixie asked.
“This will be a start,” Heartburn said, before slamming the ends of the defibrillator over top of her chest. They all waited for a reaction, only to be met by silence. He attempted it a second time.
Lightning’s body jolted, and her eyes opened suddenly. But she was still not yet awake.
“There! She longs to live! We need something stronger...You, fetch me that jar of animuscia on that shelf,” Heartburn commanded, pointing at Trixie.
Trixie glanced back at the bookshelf of jars and beakers, but made no attempt.
“Today, if you’d like!”
“Which one is it?!”
“Third from the left, second row!” he bellowed.
“Where do you find these ponies?” Heartburn muttered to Sunset, shaking his head.
Trixie returned with a jars of some red flower petals.
“These were grown in the depths of the forbidden jungles...They are said to have the power to heal those walking the line of life and death…”
He reached into the jar and plucked a single petal from the jar.
“That, um, doesn’t sound very scientific,” Starlight said.
Heartburn glared at her.
He grabbed Lightning’s bottom jaw and opened it as far as it would go, before slipping the petal down her throat.
Massaging her neck, he waited until her throat instinctively swallowed.
“I feel like I shouldn’t be watching this,” Trixie muttered.
Sunset narrowed her eyes at Heartburn, who took to patiently waiting.
“Doc, are you sure this is going to-”
Lightning suddenly sprang up from the bench, screaming, gasping for breath as the light returned to her eyes.
She was terrified, struggling to avoid collapsing back down out of shock. Starlight stood at her side, grabbing onto her hoof and squeezing tight.
“Lightning! Can you hear me? Are you OK?” Starlight asked.
Lightning did not answer right away, and when she did it was only a series of frantic nodding. She found Starlight's eyes, and seemed relieved. Her breathing began to slow down, and she lay back down on the table, exhausted.
“Allow me to help with those cuts, you’ve lost a great deal of blood, my dear,” Heartburn said.
Lightning was far too terrified to protest the strange stallion’s suggestion, nor even question who he was or where they were.
“Stay still, young lady,” he ordered, after roughly slamming her back against the workbench. He examined Lightning’s poor wings, which were torn and bent in all the wrong ways. Lightning writhed silently on the bench while he prodded at her.
"What happened?" Lightning squeaked, "Starlight? Where are we?"
"It's OK," Starlight said, tugging on the pegasus' hoof, "We're all here, you're OK. See?"
Lightning felt like throwing up, struggling to keep from blacking out again. She saw Suri and Trixie, Sunset and Wallflower, all standing over her, shocked to see her breathing.
"We made it," Lightning realized, smiling ear to ear, "We made it!Alright!"
Lightning laughed and laughed, amazed with her own survival. Sunset couldn't help but smile along with her, laughing in an effort to hide her fear that Lightning was not going to wake up. Wallflower was too anxious to laugh, and Suri was far too disgusted by the smell of blood to join in.
“Her wings will require surgery if she is to fly again,” Heartburn said.
Lightning’s heart sank.
“Surgery?” Starlight repeated, concerned, “Do you have anesthetics?”
“Hm?”
Heartburn flipped Lightning onto her chest, and stretched his legs.
“Ow,” Lightning muttered.
“Bite down on this, darling,” Heartburn ordered, sticking a leather strap between her teeth. Heartburn reached for a tray of sharp instruments, and he was wearing a malicious grin.
“The rest of you head over there. You with the bullet wound, you stay. I’ll work on you next,” Heartburn said.
“I owe you one, Doc,” Sunset said.
“You owe me more than that, my dear Sunset. Off with you, I can’t work with prying eyes.”
Sunset, Starlight, Trixie, and Suri reluctantly gave into his wish, stepping through an open door into a parlor of sorts.
Suri immediately conquered the couch, while Starlight and Trixie sat together by the window. The door shut behind them.
"They're gonna be alright?" Trixie hoped.
"I think so," Starlight said, "...Where'd you find this guy, Sunset?"
"We'd get each other out of trouble, a long time ago," Sunset said, "We'll be safe here, for a little."
"Long enough for a nap?" Suri wondered, "You all know I must have my nap."
"How could we forget?" Starlight laughed.
Scampers the rat came scrambling out from Suri's bag, running to the door, clawing against it.
"He wants to be with Lightning," Trixie figured.
"Bad idea. Doc gets nervous during surgery. He sees that rat of hers running around, he might just saw off the wrong body part."
Sunset discovered an old radio, fixed upon an upright table layered with stacks of records.
She flipped the switch to turn it on, and was greeted by a newspony’s voice. She lowered the volume and pressed her ear closer.
“Catastrophe galore! ENN investigators have confirmed the rumors that the dragons have stopped all trade with the southern settlements. Twilight help those poor ponies, they won’t know what hit them! The foreign affairs delegate has refused to speak on the matter, commenting only that developments in Canterlot have prohibited any forward action…” Sunset glanced back at Starlight, who was staring off into space.
“I think it’s safe to say Twilight’s little scheme stretches farther than just slaughtering some hapless politicians.”
Starlight gave a single nod, but was not in the mood for conversation.
Sunset turned back to the radio, hoping to learn as much as she could about the Equestria, a different Equestria then the one she had left all those months ago.
"It won't take them long to hunt us down," Starlight said, "Twilight tends to be thorough."
"No kidding. Got any ideas?" Sunset said.
"Cadance help us. She's close by."
"She's Twilight's sister-in-law," Sunset reminded, "A bit of a conflict-of-interest, don't you think? And I don't know about you, but I think I'm done putting my trust in princesses."
Starlight flinched.
"What about Celestia, or Luna? They might know what's gotten into Twilight. They could help us."
Sunset suddenly stood upright, incensed by the mention of Equestria's former rulers.
"That's not going to happen."
Starlight narrowed her eyes.
"Why not?" Starlight asked, "...What do you know?"
Sunset caught her words in her throat, before assuming a new front.
"Not much. Only that Celestia's disappeared. Right off the face of the earth. Luna - she's turned into a hermit. Never leaves her mansion, not for anything, not for anypony." Sunset explained, "It's not exactly public knowledge. I'd overheard some of the prison guards talking about it, a week or two ago. The point is, we won't be getting any help."
"You think Twilight got to them too?" Starlight wondered, horrified. Celestia and Luna were both absent from the coronation, as was Cadance. Any one of them could have had a role in the murders, or perhaps even all three. The thought made her shudder.
But Starlight knew Sunset better than to believe her at face value, and Sunset's explanation came across more like an alibi. But Starlight could say nothing, not yet.
Sunset shrugged, before turning back to the radio.
"If they couldn't stop her, then nopony can."
"Starlight Glimmer?" Pharynx guffawed, shaking his head, "I've a hard time believing-"
"Believe what you will," Twilight said, "I'm telling you the truth."
The afternoon sun cast the Royal Council Chamber in a faded shade of gold, that glistened off the dusty bookshelves and marble. columns. Along the great table, only three of the council members were present - the changeling ambassador, King Pharynx; the hippogriff ambassador, Queen Ocean Flow, and Twilight Sparkle herself.
"Starlight was your friend," Ocean Flow said, softly. She seemed terrified to dare challenge Twilight, but she could not keep herself quiet, "What could make her..."
Ocean Flow trailed off, allowing Pharynx to pounce back on an unsuspecting Twilight.
"You told us she was locked up in Hellhatch," Pharynx said, "How long has she been there?"
"Since she was first made a key suspect," Twilight said, "Her and Sunset Shimmer both. They're both too dangerous to keep contained anywhere but there. Only Hellhatch was secure enough to hold them."
"And that still wasn't enough?" Pharynx said, incredulously, "Now you say they've escaped!"
"They won't remain at large for long. I've sent three of my most trusted officers to retrieve them."
Pharynx growled. Nothing about this seemed to sit right with him. Then again, nothing ever really did sit well with him.
"I want you each to send an emissary to the Badlands, to inform the dragons that Starlight and Sunset are likely our culprits, and we'll be bringing them in shortly. My Defense Secretary, Archangel, and the Mayor of Ponyville will join you. Their objective is to seek out the dragons' cooperation with the investigation. This business with the embargo, it mustn't last. This is our olive branch. Offer them the ponies who took their empress' head, and perhaps their wrath will be directed at the right target. "
"Why can't we go ourselves?" Pharynx asked, "Afraid we'll join them?"
Twilight was not amused.
"All of our resources are being devoted to catching the killer. I don't have time for the dragons' unruliness, not while Starlight and Sunset are fugitives," Twilight said.
"I'll send my daughter to treat with the dragons," Pharynx said, "I will wait in the Hive, and the next time we meet it will be you who comes to me, Twilight Sparkle, and you'll present Glimmer and Shimmer to me, in irons."
Twilight nodded her head, though she had no love for Pharynx's wanton tongue.
"My son will go with them, Princess," Ocean Flow said. Twilight nodded again in approval.
Pharynx snorted and rose from his seat.
"Then we're agreed," he grumbled, "Never much cared for dragons. If what you say about Starlight Glimmer is true. It will be me to snip her neck. Not the dragons."
"Justice will be had, to whatever end," Twilight said.
Pharynx glared at her.
"As you say," he repeated, "To whatever end."
The door to Heartburn's living room swung open, and in staggered Lightning Dust and Wallflower, the former appearing to be half-dead.
“Lightning, are you alright?” Starlight asked, rising from her chair.
“Never better,” Lightning grunted, her bandaged wings stinging madly.
Suri scooted over just slightly to allow Lightning to lay down. Wallflower, meanwhile, crumbled against the corner wall, avoiding the temptation to pick at her bandaged leg. Trixie stayed at her side, offering her some comfort.
“They’ll live. Not as well as they could have, if they hadn’t had the misfortune of meeting you, I suspect..." Heartburn said, "And do tell me, who do I owe the pleasure?”
“This is Starlight, Trixie, Suri," Sunset said, "And you've already met Lightning and Wallflower.”
“Lovely, lovely indeed.”
“Would you take bits to settle this? Or still only favors?” Sunset asked.
Heartburn snickered.
“We could settle this in other ways,” he said, taking three steps closer.
Sunset smirked, mildly amused.
“That ship has sailed, Doc,” she said.
Heartburn’s smile faded, and he nodded in bitter acceptance.
“And so it has. Very well. The next time I see you, I’ll be sure to-”
But he cut himself off short, when the radio voice suddenly caught his attention. The others all followed his gaze, and Sunset could feel herself go pale.
“Lock your doors! Batten the shutters! The Canterlot Investigative Bureau has released the names of several suspects linked to the Ponyville massacre. Starlight Glimmer, Sunset Shimmer, Trixie Lulamoon, Lightning Dust, and Suri Polomare. Public enemies! Beware! Report if seen!” Heartburn’s eyes turned back to Sunset, whose horn had already begun to glow.
“Heartburn...Don’t do anything you might regret," Sunset warned.
“It seems as though I already have,” he replied, “...Fugitives...That would explain the mess.”
Sunset dimmed her horn.
“We won’t tell anypony you helped us," Sunset said.
“It’s too late. I know the types they’ll send," Heartburn sighed, "They’ll find you, and first they’ll find me.”
“We’ll deny it,” Starlight assured.
“They could be upon us any second,” Heartburn muttered, glancing towards the window, “You must be gone from here. Quickly."
Sunset sighed, but agreed to his request.
“Come on, everypony,” Sunset said, waiting for the others to all stand up. Lightning and Wallflower both still required help.
“They mispronounced my name,” Suri whined, stumbling out of the house.
“Wait! Sunset…” Heartburn cried, right before Sunset could follow the others out towards the front door.
“Right here,” Heartburn said, pointing towards a spot near his shoulder, “We’ll say you coerced me.”
Sunset nodded.
Her horn began to glow.
Heartburn braced himself, though was still not ready at all when Sunset fired a beam of magic directly through his shoulder, searing a hole in his flesh.
“Lovely. Oh! Lovely!” he groaned in agony, “Now, ah! Off with you! And you o-ought to leave this city if you have any sense!”
“Thanks for the help!” Sunset yelled with a farewell wave, right before running out the door towards the carriage.
“Oh, anytime,” Heartburn mumbled, before collapsing beside his workbench.
"You've got a great appetite, for a dead pony.”
Salt Shaker was sitting across from Blondie in a small café by the streetside window. Auburn cloth held small wax candles that shuddered with each breeze of the swinging revolving door.
“You’re quieter than usual,” Salt Shaker continued, jovially. By now, he was quite used to talking to his brick wall of a companion, "It's breakfast for lunch. You love breakfast for lunch.
“We know where he keeps the case. All we've got to do is steal that safe, or blow it open somehow. That’s our only shot.”
Salt Shaker smiled, amused by Blondie's persistence.
“Last I checked, there are only two of us. The Black Hoof has an army at its disposal, my friend.”
“Unless we have the element of surprise,” Blondie said.
“Element of-....Excuse me,” Salt Shaker said, clearing his throat and glaring at Blondie’s hooves planted emphatically on the tablecloth. Blondie retracted them instantly, punctuated with an eye-roll.
“Element of surprise? I think not. There are far too many guards stationed there, by the time you reach his office he’ll have already escaped.”
“You’re rather obstinate for an accomplice.”
“Well, someone has to offer some intelligent thought to the discussion,” Salt Shaker said, snidely.
“Then maybe we could help.”
Blondie and Salt Shaker lifted their heads to see three familiar faces pop out from around a corner of their booth.
"You?"
Blondie was a hair away from tossing the table, while Salt Shaker instinctively reached for his knife.
Rainbow raised her hoof up.
“Hey, we just want to talk. Go on, make room.”
Blondie glanced at Salt Shaker.
“...I suppose I’m not one to mind a mare's company,” Salt Shaker said, sliding the knife back into its sheath, and scooting down the booth. Blondie bitterly did the same.
Pinkie and Fluttershy sat beside Blondie, while Rainbow sat beside Salt Shaker, who was so large he took up two seats.
“Who the hell are you ponies? And how did you find us?” Blondie asked.
“Covered the whole city in no time at all. Still took longer than I’d have liked,” Rainbow explained. Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie remained silent.
“What do you want, birdie?” Salt Shaker asked.
Rainbow glanced to the side, and leaned in towards Blondie.
“The ponies you work for would be a nice start,” Rainbow inquired.
Blondie glanced at Salt, suspiciously.
“What are they after? What do they want?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t fret over their intentions quite yet. Our dear Blondie will have their heads on spikes soon enough, or so he thinks,” Salt Shaker said, purposefully being vague.
Rainbow glanced at Blondie, confused.
“They're no friends of ours,” Blondie explained.
“Really…” Rainbow muttered, glancing at Pinkie and Fluttershy.
“You want them dead?” Blondie wondered.
“Just answers.”
“Then we're your best bet. We can get you to their leader," Blondie said, "Whatever crime you think he’s done, he’s done it twice.”
“All I needed to hear,” Rainbow said, nodding towards the others with a triumphant glow.
“I can take you to him. In exchange for your help getting through the army he’s got. It’s a mutual gain.”
“...Loud and clear,” Rainbow said, nodding again, “How do we get inside?”
“I know a guy who can help us. Is anypony afraid of heights?” he asked.
The others shook their heads.
“What’s that got to do with anything?” Salt Shaker asked. Blondie ignored him.
“We’ve got a deal?” Blondie said, turning his whole body towards Rainbow, who just then began to notice that enticing shimmer in those emerald eyes.
“OK. We’re in cahoots. That old bastard is finally getting what's coming for him."
Blondie smiled, and the two even shook on it.
Salt Shaker could not help but be impressed.
“Maybe I should’ve been letting you do the negotiations after all,” he muttered.
Blondie’s grinned, the first time Salt had seen him do so. They had their chance.
In billows of leaf-swallowing swirls, through the ruby red autumn trees, Bandolier’s canteen had run dry.
“I ran out yesterday,” said Amity, noticing Bandolier shaking out the last drops.
Across some slippery rocks wading in a thin-bedded creek, Bandolier saw Flamberge, staring off between the shady ferns of a cliffside edge.
“Flamberge! What do you see?” Bandolier asked, helping Amity not to trip over the rocks.
“See for yourself,” Flamberge responded.
Bandolier rushed over. And down below from the cliff’s edge, in a great basin, he saw it: the palace of velvet, of fair Lady Lavender’s, the target of their venture. Surrounded by scarlet trees it was, and birds’ songs and harvest colors galore.
“After you,” Bandolier taunted. Flamberge grumbled something below his breath and sauntered towards the nearby descending dirt slope. Bandolier and Amity went the same route.
At the shimmering palace gate, they were met by a pair of gold-plated guards.
“State your business,” said one.
“The Lady of Silkwood is our business. By order of Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Bandolier announced, confidently.
“You have authentication?” the other guard inquired.
Bandolier glanced at Flamberge, who reached into his suit pocket to retrieve some identification, on it stating his position in the royal guard.
The guards examined it together, and were reluctantly satisfied.
“Open the gate!”
Bandolier smiled triumphantly, though Flamberge remained a statue.
The trio were escorted up towards the velvet towers, first through the grand hall that was adorned with glass chandeliers and rose carpets.
“Lady Lavender is in her bedchamber, I believe. Be cautious, she may be occupied,” said the guard escort, who promptly handed them over to one of the palace servants.
“This way,” the servant said, meekly, dragging her hooves up a winding staircase.
“You both let me do the talking for now,” Bandolier muttered to his companions.
“I think not. Unless we want a mess of things,” Flamberge spat.
Bandolier ignored him.
Amity, meanwhile, stayed alert. She only sought to do the job and do it well. Considering her previous blunder, her reputation was on the line.
Flamberge scowled at Bandolier’s silence, stomping up the stairs, his eyes screaming murder.
“In here,” the servant muttered, heading down a hallway and around a corridor. The lounge, lit by afternoon sunlight, a miniature fountain sat in the center of a sunken couch area, with a view of the nearby bar, library, and open bathing area.
The four of them were taken by surprise, to catch Lavender right as she was exiting from that bath, her soaking wet mane hidden beneath a towel.
“I wasn’t expecting visitors. You might as well come in, don’t be shy,” Lavender said, coyly, while one of her servants dried her off with another towel.
She tossed the towel to another servant standing idly by, and slipped into a silky pink dress that had been folded neatly on a nearby table.
Strolling along the sun, she had her eyes fixed on Bandolier, and, immediately, he could feel his face flush red.
Amity nudged him in the side, sparing in gentleness.
“My lady,” he coughed, approaching her with his head held high. He took her hoof and left her with a kiss, of which she could not help but be flattered by.
“I can't say we’ve met?” Lavender said.
“Bandolier. I’m with the Bureau.”
Lavender’s tight smile dropped in a heartbeat.
“I see,” she said, clearing her throat, “And precisely what am I being investigated for?”
Bandolier shook his head, teasingly.
“No, you misunderstand," Bandolier said, "We’re here for your protection.”
“Protection? From what?” she asked.
“My lady, y'see, it's quite possible they may be after you next,” Bandolier said.
Lavender gasped.
“The devil who took my husband from me? Is that who you mean?”
“It would seem so,” Flamberge said, regretfully.
Lavender spun around, storming over to face one of her many extravagant windows.
“Of course...I feared this day would come. For some reason I felt I was safe….”
She felt smaller than ever, and her mind was running miles a minute.
“You want to take me back with you. To the capital,” she realized.
“Those are the orders,” Bandolier replied.
Lavender turned to face him, sinking into his hard brown eyes.
“I suppose I cannot refuse. But won’t you stay the night, at least?”
Bandolier hesitated, but did not turn back to consult the others.
“...Of course.”
Lavender smiled, warmly.
“April. Fix Bandolier and his friends with some rooms for the night. We should have a feast tonight, to welcome our guests,” Lavender ordered one of the servants, “It’s been terribly lonely, these weeks without him...It’s a relief to have you join us tonight,” she continued.
“...It would be our honor.” Bandolier said. Her smile was temptation, her voice like a serpent's jaded whisper.
Bandolier resisted the urge to break professional courtesy, though Lavender herself was close to demanding it.
Over Lavender’s shoulder, Bandolier glanced out the window, at the wind brushing over the trees. There was somepony out there, somepony who was coming to kill Lavender, he knew it.
And he would be ready.
Stray branches and slippery patches of moss stuck out from the fog.
Kickstart pushed deeper through the Everfree Forest, still out of breath. He had long lost track of his sense of direction, and there was not much of a trail in sight anymore.
The light of the sun had been stolen by the forest canopy. Chirping insects and distant cries of animals were the only reminder that he was still in the world of the living.
He wiped his face of sweat, and sighed in exhaustion, with Ponyville now far behind him.
“Hey!”
Kickstart jumped in fright, when Scootaloo came barreling out from the brush, tripping over a root and somersaulting over onto her face.
Spitting out a mouthful of dirt, she raised her eyes up at an unimpressed Kickstart.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Not you again," Kickstart sighed, "Is there something in the water at that town? You're all out of your fucking minds."
“You’re coming back with me! You won’t get away with what you did!” Scootaloo bellowed, jumping up from the dirt and trying to appear as large and imposing as possible.
“Back? And where is that exactly?” Kickstart asked, glancing around the forest, where every direction appeared the same.
Scootaloo soon came to the same dreadful conclusion: they were both lost. Terribly lost, in fact.
“Uh oh,” she whispered.
"Uh oh is right, twerp," Kickstart grunted, "Maybe I should've went along with them. Now instead I'm stuck with you."
“Stuck with me? You’re the psycho murderer, not me!” Scootaloo exclaimed.
“Take a hint, kid. I'm not who you think I am."
Scootaloo blinked in rapid succession, baffled.
“You’re...you’re not?”
“If I was, I’m pretty sure I’d have put you six feet under by now," he said, "Trust me, you make make it tempting.”
Scootaloo shook her head in disbelief.
“But...I thought...you…” Scootaloo muttered to herself, at a loss. She groaned in frustration. “Great! Now we’re lost! And I’m gonna have to go back home, and everypony will think I’m an idiot for having run in here alone! Nopony ever comes back from the Everfree Forest!”
Kickstart, who had been examining his surroundings while Scootaloo carried on, was suddenly alarmed.
“Wait, what did you say?"
But the reply came not from Scootaloo, but instead a great grizzly roar, bellowing out from the brush behind them.
Kickstart and Scootaloo both turned around, slowly, to come face to face with a beast of horrible sorts; it had eyes the color of fire, wiry fur and razor sharp teeth. A bear of some kind, it snarled like a demon, and its slobbering scowl made it clear the beast was not interested in making their acquaintance.
“Get behind me,” Kickstart muttered, and he did not have to ask twice.
Kickstart could not afford to reason out an escape plan; the beast’s eyes were beating him down into the dirt.
“Run, go and get as far from here as you can,” Kickstart said.
“...What about you?” Scootaloo asked.
"This is nothing. Right? Who's scared? Not me. Don't sweat it. You should really fucking run now," Kickstart advised.
"I’m not leaving you. You could still be that monster, I can’t let you get away that easily,” Scootaloo said, despite her terror.
"I see. They're not very smart in Ponyville, if you're any indication. I'll give you a pass, because your brain's not fully developed yet," Kickstart said, earning a frown from Scootaloo, "Which is a better excuse than anything I've got."
While he was laughing at himself, the beast suddenly lunged towards them, its jaw open wide, moving in for the kill.
Kickstart spun around and picked up a shrieking Scootaloo in one motion, diving off to the right before the beast’s knife-like teeth could slam shut around him.
Kickstart rolled over onto his side and let go of Scootaloo, who scrambled away behind a bush.
“Fuck,” Kickstart muttered, bruised from the hard fall.
“Look out!!” Scootaloo cried from the safety of the bush.
The beast slashed towards Kickstart, who again rolled over to avoid its mighty claw.
The beast moved to strike once more, until suddenly a puff of smoke overcame them.
The smoke was like a lavender fog, engulfing the air and obscuring Kickstart’s vision.
Then his mind felt fuzzy, and the last thing he could make out before collapsing was the shape of a cloaked figure, smirking as she approached them through the mist.
Between wind-wound whisperings of alleyway mouths, a carriage bearing the banner Bookmark’s Emporium buckled wildly across the slick streets of the Crystal Empire.
Starlight and Trixie had taken back the helm; Sunset had volunteered to look over Lightning and Wallflower with Suri in the back compartment.
“Just to make sure you don’t make it worse,” she had said.
Suri noticed Sunset wince each time Wallflower or Lightning made the mildest pained grunt or groan. Suri said nothing. She was far too weary.
“Are you sure he’ll help us?” Trixie asked Starlight in the front, between gasps for breath.
“He’s our best chance,” Starlight assured.
She could make out distant echoes of the radio broadcasts playing out of every home, every shop, everywhere a pony could listen. Her ears perked up whenever she could pick out her name being spoken.
Twilight wants us dead.
Starlight and Trixie led the carriage down one narrow street in the south side of town, slowing her pace as the sounds of the city began to succumb to the quiet neighborhood’s grey gloom.
Nopony was outside their house; their windows were all shut and their doors locked. It was a ghost town.
Starlight left the carriage outside in the street, unstrapping her reins and taking off down a narrow path leading towards another street.
“I’m not saying I don’t trust him, but…” Trixie said, after undoing her own harness and managing to catch up.
“He’ll come through for me,” Starlight said, her voice airy and taut, “I know he will.”
Together they approached the door to one house, one that wore a hat of red fire, its tall doors bore a beaming sun emblem.
Starlight made three quick knocks on the door, which was three times her size, and waited patiently.
The silence made her nervous; was he even home?
But, to quell her fears, the door creaked open just seconds later. Out popped the unkempt orange mane and the silver pair of glasses, behind them the bearded stallion wrapped in a star-studded cloak.
“Starlight.”
“Sunburst,” Starlight said, sticking her head closer to the crack in the door, “I need your help.”
Sunburst scoffed, and promptly shut the door.
Trixie glanced at Starlight.
“Told you.”
Starlight slammed her hoof against the door again.
Sunburst popped out again, his eyes maddened with terror.
“I almost spat out my tea this morning, when I heard it was you,” Sunburst muttered, “Starlight. How could you? And what are you doing here?”
“Look, I know I shouldn't be doing this, but I really need your help, Sunburst...My friends are hurt, and they need someplace safe to rest. Just for a day or two. I promise we won’t be trouble.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he groaned, “Do you know what the penalty is for colluding with enemies of the state?”
“Is that all I am to you now?” Starlight asked, Sunburst glared at her.
The door opened, revealing Sunburst leaning against the doorpost, knock-kneed and disheveled. More than usual.
“Luna be good, you’re a mess,” Starlight smirked.
“Speak for yourself,” Sunburst retorted, eyeing her up and down “...Trixie,”
“Hey,” Trixie said, dryly. She had never been fond of Starlight's oldest friend. Sub-par competition, that was all he was.
Sunburst sighed, wiping sweat from his brow as he fell into Starlight’s pleading eyes. He flinched, and lowered his head to turn about his thoughts.
“How many of you are there?”
Starlight smiled, awkwardly.
“I’ll be arrested, surely! They’ll hang me! Not before I’m drawn and quartered! Oh! Celestia, what have I done?” Sunburst wailed, while carrying a tray of tea over to the six ponies now strewn about his living room, “I must be rid of you, quickly.”
“Easy, Specs, we only just got here,” Sunset muttered from beside the fireplace, after finishing the last of the crumpets Sunburst had brought them earlier.
“The police will be knocking on my door. I’m an awful liar, they’ll see right through me! It’s all gone to hell!”
“Hey,” Starlight said, softly, rising from the maroon couch she had been sitting on. She reached out to Sunburst, cupping his unshaven face in her hoof.
“Everything’s going to be alright, OK?”
“Alright? How could you say that? You murdered-”
“Sunburst. None of us had anything to do with that. Me and Trixie saw what happened. The pony responsible had us sent away to stop us from telling anypony the truth.”
Sunburst raised an eyebrow.
“Really. Then what is the truth?”
“You wouldn’t believe me…”
Sunburst scoffed, unconvinced.
“You all certainly made a mess of things in Hellhatch, that’s for sure. They’re still finding new corpses in the wreckage,” Sunburst said.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. We never meant for there to be casualties,” Starlight said, subtly glancing towards Sunset.
Sunset tilted her head slightly, as if she was accepting a challenge.
Sunburst left Starlight with a scowl, disappearing again into the kitchen to release more steam.
“I take it this won’t be a permanent stay,” Sunset guessed.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Trixie muttered, falling deeper into the cushions of the couch.
“Anypony got any friends nearby who can help us lay low?” Starlight asked.
Sunset shook her head.
"Not with the price on our heads. My friends don't lend well to honest favors," Sunset said.
“Wallflower?”
Wallflower, who was still clutching her bandaged leg, shook her head.
“Nopony.” she mumbled, downheartedly.
“Who said we were even sticking together after this, huh?” Lightning interjected, “I mean, the deal was to escape. We escaped. Now we can all go our separate ways. Look, it we got along alright to get out of there, and we did it. I didn't sign on to be friends. Once my wings are working, I'm gone.”
Sunset shook her head.
“Fly away then. See how far you get before you’re back in another jail cell. And this time when you’re locked up four miles underground, you won’t have any of our help," Sunset said, "I could've left you in the snow, instead I saved your life. Did I make a mistake?"
Lightning gritted her teeth. She hated to think she owed anypony anything.
“Last I checked I saved you back at Hellhatch, and you know what? I could have gotten out of there by myself, anyway” Lightning insisted.
“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe we should split up,” Sunset snarled.
“My family's in Cloudsdale. So are all my friends, a whole lot. They’ll have my back!” Lightning said, hoping the others would believe her, “Probably better off there than hiding in some frozen alley with a bunch of losers like you.”
Suri managed to interject before Sunset could retaliate.
“I’d be safer in Manehattan. I may still have some connections that could last me a little while,” Suri wondered.
“We’re not splitting up, OK?” Starlight said, raising her voice, “Look, you may not have it out for Twilight like I do. But as long as she’s still sitting on that throne, she’s a threat to all of us. She knows you were a part of the escape. She’ll want you hunted down, interrogated. For your sake and mine, none of us want that. So let’s stick it out a little longer, and keep our heads on straight.”
The others all restrained themselves from challenging Starlight, providing her with a chance to slip away to the kitchen.
She found Sunburst bent over his kitchen counter, face down in forlorn.
“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me,” Starlight said.
Sunburst lifted his head.
His fiery red hair had grown below his nose and around his cheeks, and he appeared not to have slept well for days.
“It’s been months,” Sunburst said, weakly reaching for the bottle of year-old scotch sitting idly by the knife rack.
“I would think about you every now and then. And wonder if you were alright. And then I hear of what you’ve done...You’ve betrayed Equestria, betrayed everypony.”
“I wouldn’t have come here, if I didn’t think there was a part of you that would believe me,” Starlight said, following him around the corner, intercepting his hoof before he could pour a shot of the scotch, “You want to trust me, don’t you?”
She was inches away from his face now, and she could notice the beads of sweat slipping into his beard.
“I wish I could.”
“Now’s no different,” Starlight said, “You’re not going to understand the things I have to do. But someday it will all make sense.”
“I sure hope so,” Sunburst replied.
“...Before all this, when I thought my life would go in a different direction, a better direction...I imagined this. You and I.”
Sunburst’s mouth hung open in confusion. Still, he was listening.
“I was so terrified of whether my life would be over or not...There was so much I still wanted,” Starlight said, releasing a despair-ridden laugh that welcomed the tears to pool in the corners of her eyes. “I wanted a life I could be proud of. Something to make me fight to hang on,” she said. “A family.”
Her hoof struggled to find Sunburst’s, loosely gripping the bottle of scotch.
“Now I’m afraid I’ve lost that chance,” Starlight said, her voice wavering. “...There could never be anyone else."
Sunburst was so taken aback, he could not respond with words; he broke free of her grip and poured the two of them half-high shots, before setting the bottle down.
“Alright then,” he said, raising his glass in the air, “To nobody else.”
Starlight smiled, and brought her glass up beside his.
They both gulped it down.
Starlight cautiously fell through the air towards him, and he was prepared to receive her, pressing his face forwards.
“Starlight!” Trixie cried from the other room.
Another time, perhaps.
Starlight’s face was strained with fear, and she had to dash back to the living room.
Sunburst followed in beside her.
“We might be in some trouble,” Trixie said, pointing towards the window.
Starlight, and Sunburst too, came rushing towards the window, where they were horrified to discover at least eight armored carriages surrounding their bullet-riddled bookmobile by the curb.
“How'd they find us already?” Starlight muttered. Twilight was not pulling any punches. If Hellhatch couldn't keep her quiet, then only death could. Twilight must have thought the same thing.
“They’re coming towards us...At least twenty, there’s more hanging back,” Suri reported, nervously. Sunset pulled her back from the window and made sure all the curtains were closed.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s head out the back,” Sunset said, helping Lightning and Wallflower to their hooves.
“Sunset, get them out of here. Me and Trixie will stay upstairs, make sure Sunburst is alright,” Starlight said.
Lightning, Wallflower, and Sunset glared at her, puzzled.
“Starlight, a-are you sure?” Wallflower asked.
“We're not gonna leave you to get put back in chains, Glimmer,” Lightning said.
"I'll be fine, don't worry, I'll catch up," Starlight said.
"Your funeral," Sunset said, hurrying towards the kitchen backdoor with the others. Suri followed behind. Lightning and Wallflower lingered, until Starlight ushered them to follow Sunset.
“Starlight, I can handle myself,” Sunburst said.
“I know. But if anything were to happen…” Starlight said, trailing off.
Sunburst nodded for them to head towards the stairs.
“How come I have to stay?!” Trixie asked, annoyed, as she and Starlight took off for the stairs.
“It’s you and I that Twilight is really after. If we do get caught, the others may still have a chance,” Starlight said.
“Ah. I do love to be the unwilling sacrifice," Trixie muttered, "I know I told you I'd follow you to the grave, but I didn't think you'd put me to the test!"
Starlight climbed up the stairs, dragging Trixie behind her.
She flung open the attic hatch and teleported the both of them into its darkness.
Trixie shuddered when a heavy knock fell upon the front door. Starlight held her by the hoof.
“Through thick and thin,” Starlight muttered.
"Through thick and thin," Trixie replied.
Trixie nodded, taking a deep breath.
Starlight fell against the wooden floor, and pressed her ear to its surface. The wood was thin.
The door swung open. Sunburst wiped sweat from his face, before opening the door.
Dancing through the turquoise, scents of sugar and spice brought him back to life. From the hard leaden winter that was brewing in the darker corners of his mind, Kickstart was bewildered to find himself in someone else’s home.
“Hey. You alright?”
Scootaloo was perched on a wicker chair, her ears sticking up attentively. Kickstart himself was lying on a bed of wheat, by the brambles of the hut-like shelter he had been brought to.
“There he is, at last he wakes. Next time, mustn’t make the same mistakes,” came another voice, a zebra, bejeweled in golden rings and piercings. Her appearance was unfamiliar to Kickstart, and he was both intrigued and frightened.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" he asked, as memories began to flow back over that dam of confusion, "You....You saved us?"
Zecora nodded, approaching his wounded leg with a bottle of green-colored ointment.
"Beasts of the forests, they never sleep. No fortune here to be reaped,” she said, with a motherly smile. She soaked a cloth in the green liquid, and pressed it against Kickstart’s wound.
Kickstart growled and tore at the blanket he was lying upon. Zecora’s hoof quieted him with a touch to the chest. He was mesmerized, enthralled in this creature, unlike anyone he had ever laid eyes on before.
“I don't doubt it,” Kickstart said, "Which makes it a little odd why you'd want to live out here."
Zecora glared at him.
“And who are you to ask such a thing? It is my domain you’ve come stumbling. What brought the two of you here, I wonder? Some foolish quest? Some grave blunder?” Zecora asked.
Kickstart shook his head.
“It wasn't exactly an informed decision, more of a in-the-moment kind of thing,” he muttered, glancing out a small window, “At least the creatures here don't pretend to like you before they try to kill you. Out there's nothing for me.”
Zecora stood up.
“You wish to be free. Free of the past,” she guessed, glancing down at the wounds left all over his body, “Many lose their hope. For scars that always last.”
She turned away, now facing Scootaloo.
“All of us, we are so temporary. Chase our dreams, beyond the bodies buried. Or mighty feats, yes, gold and glory. But most of us come short, be made another story. Of dark warnings and joyless ends. What can we do while we wait? We ought to live, laugh, create. Time is too short to fall into despair. Nor to others we should compare. To persevere, we all should strive. Why else be born, but be alive?”
Kickstart’s eyes were cast down towards the dirt floor of Zecora’s house. Zecora’s warm smile never left her face.
“Rest until you are ready. Then keep on your course, and hold steady.”
Kickstart nodded as a show of thanks, and waited until Zecora had left the room before he glanced over at Scootaloo.
“...So, you never told me how you got all those....y'know,” Scootaloo asked. She still was unsure whether she could trust him, though in the meantime she thought to satisfy her curiosity.
Kickstart sighed, and supposed she was due an explanation if she was to ever stop pestering him.
"I was your age, a little younger maybe. My home wasn't like what you had in Ponyville. We got to be near the city, but far enough that we didn't have many neighbors, and even less work. Things weren't good then," he said, and the more he focused, the more he could remember, "They got so bad I had to work too - I'd sell ice cream at the town market, made enough to help us along. But it wouldn't last. How could it? They should never have had a child, it was true, and they let me know that as much as they could. It took a small fortune to raise me, put me through school, whatever, and eventually they decided that I wasn't worth all the trouble. We were destitute, I wasn't sure if I could even blame them? They were my mom and dad, they knew best. So I didn't bat an eye when they sold me to the ponies in blackcoats. I didn't bat an eye when they stuck me with some needles and put me through examination after examination. It was only when they made me stay awake for it all, that was when I started up. I'd cry for them, for mom, for dad, for anybody to come bursting through the doors and cut me free. But nopony ever came. I watched a hundred ponies come in and out year after year. Some didn't last more than a week. I watched them hold out my own heart in front of me, and put something else in its place. And all the while they'd talk about the greater good. But I wouldn't get to be a part of it."
"So you escaped?" Scootaloo asked, "You got out, you made it!"
"I escaped once before," Kickstart said, "Back when I knew how to find the place I grew up. I went looking for them. I remember seeing them through the window of their new home. An expensive home, with a garden and a view of the mountains, and a great big field for the dogs to run around in. They had another kid. He didn't look much like me. I'm not sure if I wanted him to or not. They moved on. So I tried to, too. But the blackcoats caught me. This time things will be different. I'm not going back to that place. They can try all they like. They'll have to catch me first."
Faltering, burning, grasping at lifeless branches to save her from the lightless void, Cadance’s shrill scream echoed into sulfuric oblivion. The darkness surrounded all it could, and as she fell into that pit, an unworldly, deafening draconic roar ravaged her mind, and broke her cries into whispers.
She awoke to sweat-stained sheets and a battery of breathless gasps. Even in dreams, dread could not part with her.
Cadance climbed out of bed, slipping out of her soaked nightdress and opening a window to take in some fresh night air.
She stood by the balcony of her royal bedchamber, twelve stories up, overlooking the glimmering lights of the crystal city. Stormy winds from over the mountains brushed past her mane. It was cool, it was quiet, for now.
“Are you alright?”
Cadance shrieked and sprang alert.
It was only Shining Armor, stumbling into the bedroom.
“Where have you been?” Cadance asked. She had not realized he had deserted her in bed while she was asleep. Shining Armor lowered his head. He wasn’t one to deliver bad news.
“Starlight Glimmer is a suspect. Five others, too,” Shining Armor revealed.
Cadance’s jaw dropped.
“...That can’t be. Starlight? I haven’t even heard from her in months…”
Shining raised an eyebrow.
“But it couldn’t be her, she could never!” Cadance exclaimed.
“They escaped from Hellhatch Penitentiary days ago. Scouts say they’re headed south. Here.”
Cadance shuddered while the wind shook her about.
“Hellhatch? Who sent her there?”
Shining Armor shrugged.
“Twilight, maybe. Canterlot hasn’t let us in on much. Only to be ready for some trouble.”
“Are we?” Cadance asked, approaching Shining Armor by the balcony doorpost.
“...I sent Windchill to prepare a hunting party. I left you to watch over Flurry myself, they could be after her next. Or you, or me.”
Cadance shook her head in disbelief.
“The world is falling apart,” she muttered.
Shining Armor reached over to hold her for a moment, beside the dying light of a mounted torch.
“I won't tell you otherwise. You should get some rest.”
Cadance nodded, while Shining Armor slipped away from the frigid cold.
Once Shining had left the room, Cadance returned inside and shut the balcony door.
“Starlight…” she muttered to herself.
“But it doesn’t make any sense…”
She was at a loss, pacing in circles, trying to make sense of the accusation.
Then something caught her eye, as if to answer her uncertainties.
A black notebook, resting idly on her old wooden desk. She wondered how she hadn’t noticed it sooner, or, more importantly, how it got there.
There was no writing on the cover, only solid black that intensified the mystery of its contents.
With a cautious hoof, she reached to open the notebook.
And, after nearly a half-hour of careful reading of the deceased griffin detective’s findings, she then felt as though her suspicions were confirmed.
“Twilight,” she gasped, horrified.
She shook her head, refusing to believe such an outlandish claim. Especially coming from that wily griffin.
Though she wanted to deny the possibility, a part of her was teetering on the line of who to trust.
It could be anybody, couldn’t it?
Glowing oil lamp gold seeped into the dark crimson woods of its surrounding.
A palace feast had been prepared, featuring exotic flavors and precise preparations.
Lavender’s ballroom was lit by a hundred flaming wicks of a titanic chandelier. It was made of solid gold, heavy enough to leave a crater should it fall.
On the walls of the ballroom were paintings of great battles of old; pegasi slaying dragons, the unity of the three tribes, a painted tapestry of archaic mastercraft.
Upstairs, Flamberge and Bandolier had the misfortune of sharing a room.
“We didn't come here to socialize,” Flamberge said, while both were stepping into the tuxedos Lavender had arranged for them to wear that night.
“She's only recently widowed, and positively upset,” Bandolier pointed out, “We're doing this to help keep her cool. We don’t want any problems heading back to Canterlot.”
“Don’t we?” Flamberge repeated, glaring at Bandolier.
Bandolier scoffed.
“Sergeant. I don’t need you to like me. Or respect me. But tonight, I need you to humor me.”
Flamberge, reluctantly, found himself willing to compromise.
“And keep your wits about you. We’re not safe out here,” Bandolier said, with a paranoid glance around the room.
Bandolier and Flamberge emerged from their room in their tailored threads. Bandolier had trimmed his beard and done up his curly mud hair. Flamberge picked at his collar; he would much rather be somewhere else.
Both caught their breath, with the delightful sight of Amity Stiletto strutting out from the next-door room, snugly stuck in a cherry red dress. Its corset squeezed her waist, and the fine fabric fell just above the floor.
“I don’t like her. But she does have taste,” Amity said, enjoying the looks on her stallion companions’ faces.
April, the servant, arrived at the staircase to lead them below.
Down the winding stairs, around a corner to the grand ballroom, Amity’s eyes widened at the sight of nearly a hundred ponies, all guests at Lavender’s palace.
Bandolier recognized several attendants from his days in analysis: Upper Crust, Filthy Rich, Fancy Pants, everypony with a good few bits to their name seemed to be present.
“They must rent out rooms here. Like a hotel,” Amity said, and she found that to be rather odd.
“If it was me, I would mind the company,” Bandolier said.
“Certain company,” Amity scoffed.
Bandolier glared down at her.
“You’re daft," Amity said, putting her thoughts more bluntly, "Falling for whatever dumb trick she’s pulling on you. She’s up to something. I can feel it."
Bandolier laughed off her accusation, and shook his head.
"Forgive me, I never asked for your approval," Bandolier muttered.
"We don't need any complications to the mission," Amity reminded, as her face turned red, "That's all I meant."
“I’m going to get a drink,” Bandolier said, breaking away from the others.
“What happened to keeping your wits?” Flamberge asked.
“I won’t need all of them.”
Flamberge glanced at Amity, shaking his head in frustration.
Bandolier scooted past two well-groomed politicians to pick up a bottle of champagne sitting idly on the tablecloth-covered table of dishes.
Then he froze, picking up on some ponies’ conversation behind him.
“Yes, but I never thought it would be so gruesome.”
“...I suppose it had to be. It seems to have had the desired effect.”
Bandolier turned to investigate, but was interrupted when Lavender caught him first.
“...Bandolier,” she said. She wore a delicate purple dress, with pompous billowy rungs and bulbous plumes. She was immaculate, as always.
“I’m sorry if we were delayed. We didn’t want to disappoint you,” Bandolier said.
“Oh, believe me. You haven’t,” Lavender smirked.
Lavender grabbed him by the hoof, pulling him away from the clothed tables of food, over to the proper floor of the ballroom, where an assortment of couples were already entwined in slow-strung dancing.
Amity and Flamberge, who were separated, both kept an eye on him, as well as the other guests floating around the ballroom. Amity had vowed never to let her guard down, not ever again. Though, a glass of champagne begged her to reconsider.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you seem to always be in a hurry,” Lavender said to Bandolier, wrapping her front legs around his neck. Bandolier held her in front of him, and she stood a whole head shorter. They swayed together, in the center of the ballroom, directly beneath the golden chandelier.
“My boss would disagree," Bandolier smiled, "...These days I tend to be a little on edge."
"There's no shame in that," Lavender said, "I suffer a similar ailment. It feels like it's only been days, instead of weeks...Everypony expect me to have moved on already."
"You've got a great many friends to help fill the void, at least," Bandolier said, glancing around the room.
Lavender smiled, amused.
"Politicking buzzards, is all they are. Seeking a share of my husband's estate. And the interests of his fallen comrades."
"Interests in what?" Bandolier asked, supposing she meant Ember and the other victims of the Ponyville massacre.
"Not everypony in Equestria quite fancied Twilight Sparkle's ascension to the throne. I can even remember when word got out they made her a princess, there was a rightful uproar. Now she's the reigning sovereign of Equestria, you can understand she made a great list of enemies before she even laid eyes on the crown, my husband among them," Lavender said.
"Your husband had a problem with Princess Twilight? What for?" Bandolier asked.
Lavender glanced up at him, and back to the ground, sheepishly.
"His grievances were purely political. He dismissed her early on as a petty commoner playing pretend princess, who had tricked Celestia into favoring her. Blueblood was spiteful, yes, but docile. He never made much of an effort to stand up to her, or Celestia, although he would boast a great deal to the contrary. He had half of our court believing he was some genuine gadfly, or some serious rival to Canterlot. Poor Blueblood, foolish till death."
Bandolier nodded his head, hesitantly.
"Ponies love to convince themselves they'll change the world," Bandolier said.
"Some still do," Lavender smirked, "When Celestia retired, a great deal of ponies saw the opportunity in reclaiming the power they'd once lost. Empires that had long fallen could be restored. The Senate may grow its power. Their hopes all faded when Twilight assumed power."
Bandolier raised an eyebrow.
"I would expect the opposite. A fresh young ruler to take advantage of, ally themselves with, to exploit for every opportunity they could," he said.
Lavender smiled.
"You're brighter than you let on," Lavender said, "Some creatures were deterred. Others still had ambitions. They told themselves that Twilight could be reasoned with, perhaps. Manipulated. But Twilight Sparkle is no fool. Lesser of a fool than Celestia, I would say."
"And what if they had tried it?" Bandolier posited, "What if they had tried to make an ally of her, and claim power for themselves? What do you think Twilight Sparkle would do?"
Lavender shrugged.
"I can only imagine," Lavender said, eyeing him, "Better to not think on it. Each of us here have grand appetites. Only, some are clever enough to know not to fly too close to the sun."
Bandolier smirked, before he caught onto her gaze, and a dreadful conclusion began to cross his mind. He quickly thought of kinder things, and a warmth returned to his face.
“I don’t want you to ever leave me, until we make it to Canterlot...Could you do that for me?” Lavender asked, her voice like a whisper.
“Of course,” Bandolier promised.
Lavender’s smile widened, and she sunk deeper into him.
But Bandolier’s tender moment was soiled, when he noticed the sultry glare of another mare at the other side of the ballroom floor, partly hidden by passing couples.
She was a stranger. Short wavy black mane that cut off near her shoulders, a dark tannish coat, and tropical green eyes. She wore a canary yellow dress that curved up over her rear.
Then an instinct kicked in, and it took no more than half a second after the girl reached for the knife stuck in the folds of her dress, for Bandolier to realize his bliss was coming to a close.
In a flash, the girl had drawn her knife and thrown it across the room, in a deadly, unwavering line.
But it was not Bandolier the knife was aimed at, but instead an oblivious Lavender.
Bandolier spun Lavender away and threw her to the floor, just as the knife would’ve been stuck in her skull.
Bandolier caught the knife by the blade in one hoof, and dropped it immediately, blood soaking off his tuxedo cuff and onto the ballroom floor below. His leg was cut, slightly.
The assailant had not finished yet, however. Slipping out of her heels, she took off into a sprint towards Bandolier, a second knife already drawn.
She attempted to stick it in his neck, though Bandolier could dodge it. He swung his leg across her, though she too was able to jump out of the way, the folds of her canary dress flowing through the air.
The other attendants of the feast were all alarmed; the girl swung three more times, with deadly precision, each just barely missing Bandolier.
Bandolier, eventually realizing she was well-intended to see him dead, drew enough energy to catch her knife-wielding hoof middair, spinning it around and tackling her to the ground.
She dropped the knife as soon as she fell.
She grunted, as Bandolier pressed his weight against her to the ground.
Lavender was curled up in horror, an ensemble of her guards having arrived to swarm around her.
All eyes were on Bandolier, who was still struggling to keep the girl from breaking free.
He managed to grab a hold of a few locks of her raven black hair, and, in a steep press, he smashed her head against the cold marble ballroom floor.
The girl was out like a light, and Bandolier, after catching his breath, checked to see if he had killed her.
Her pulse remained, and Bandolier gave a sigh of relief. He had done it, he believed.
He had caught the killer.
Taxi-car sweat and damp streetlight spillage sped past Salt Shaker and Blondie.
The city was all noise.
Blondie’s face hardened at the sewer-splattered green street sign he had been waiting for.
57th Avenue.
“One with common sense might think not to keep digging deeper down the rabbit hole,” Salt Shaker muttered, “It’s not too late to quit.”
“Common sense and I don't tend to get along."
Passing the milky grey puddles outside, Salt Shaker and Blondie made their way into the musky front lobby of the Den.
Anvil was there, leaning by the fuzzy side bar with a cigarette lodged between his lips.
Blondie ignored the boorish stallion, following Salt Shaker into the opened elevator.
“Shouldn’t you two be somewhere?” Anvil asked the two of them from outside the elevator.
“Something came up,” Blondie replied, pressing the button on the elevator panel.
The doors slid close, Anvil’s piercing eyes locked onto Blondie until they were all the way shut.
Salt Shaker examined the knives and explosives he had strapped around his body, hidden beneath a faded overcoat.
“I’m only doing this for you,” Salt Shaker said, his eyes gliding along the edge of his butcher’s knife blade, “Had you not strolled along with your tale of lost love, I’d instead be hunting down poor Brandy myself. No doubt.”
Blondie glanced at the giant, whose face showed remorse.
“You’ve been a good friend to me. Let’s see this through together. For both our sakes.”
Salt Shaker nodded, sliding the blade back into its sheath.
The elevator buzzed open.
The crimson-carpet hallway was empty, to Blondie’s relief. Halfway down, the grand old doors to Crozer’s luxurious office were wide open for the taking.
Salt Shaker threw open both doors, which swung back with a thunderous force.
Blondie and Salt Shaker stormed forwards, and halted a few steps in.
The office was deserted.
Almost.
Crozer was leaning back in his leather chair behind his mahogany desk, busy at work, signing papers with a feather-tipped pen.
“Crozer,” Salt Shaker bellowed, taking another step forward.
Crozer’s eyes did not leave his paperwork.
Blondie waited, nearly ten seconds, before aggressively clearing his throat.
“Oh, Blondie,” Crozer murmured.
“This ends now,” Blondie said, coldly.
Salt Shaker glared at Crozer, who was utterly unphased by Blondie’s threat.
Crozer noticed Blondie’s gaze shifting over to the locked safe.
“...You want it, don’t you. You need it. But, for a moment, Blondie. Think things over. You try to screw with me, you’re gonna have a pretty long list of bad sons of bitches wanting to get a piece of you. What could be worth that? And even if you do get out, do you really just want to go back to working at some minimum wage shithole?” Crozer said, smirking his golden-toothed grin, “Another deadbeat who fell off the racetrack. Used to be different, didn’t it? Blondie used to be a cop, Salt. Did you know that?”
Salt Shaker had not known that.
“We dug him up. Got ditched from the force for stealing cash evidence. Had a bloody record like I've never seen. I’ve never been so wrong about anypony, Blondie. You’re just as much a scumbag as the rest of us. A dirty cop can only go straight for so long. It was just a matter of time before you had to dip your hoof back into the pool."
“You don’t know anything about me,” Blondie said through bared teeth.
“Maybe. But I did know exactly when you and that shithead behind you would try and pull a fast one on me.”
Before Blondie could even react, the doors again swung open.
In came rows upon rows of Black Hoof goons, each bearing a crude weapon of deadly sorts. There must have been thirty to boast, swarming around Blondie and Salt Shaker like sharks around wounded prey.
“...I think your charm has begun to wear off,” Salt Shaker muttered, backing up against Blondie.
Crozer cackled to himself, leaning back in his chair, while the pack of thugs closed in around them.
Blondie moved first, jerkily snagging one of the grenades off of Salt Shaker’s belt. Releasing the pin, he threw it towards the doorside, and turned to run in the opposite direction.
The explosion broke out as soon as the grenade was thrown against the ground, blowing a number of the thugs into countable pieces.
Blood soaked into the carpet.
Vases and busts were shaken from their posts, collapsing to the floor into lost shards.
Blondie had only brought a knife with him, and quickly made good use of it.
He was heading for Crozer, though the wall of thugs in front of him would prove a toilsome obstacle.
He slashed one across the face, and another up the neck, ripping apart the pony’s jugular with one sweeping motion.
Another soul had the misfortune of tripping over a pony screaming blood, and he fell right upon the outstretched blade in Blondie’s hoof.
Blondie held the blade and took flight, seeking to distance himself from the crowd surrounding him below.
Three of the pegasi followed after him. Blondie, without thinking, threw his knife directly into the skull of the one closest to yanking his hind leg.
Blondie gave chase to the other two, who both had snap-firing weapons, launching heated beams of magical energy that soared through the air like bullets.
Dodging reflective panel-like streams of red, blue, and green, Blondie soared through the electrified tunnel of air.
Salt Shaker had just finished lodging the sharp end of his hammer through a thug’s head, splitting it open like an axe to a tree. He was grinning, reaching into his belt to throw a spray of spiked pellets towards the floor. And, as he had expected, the thugs about to pounce came screaming down to the ground, tripping and falling into the spikes.
Salt Shaker reached for his knife again, only to find he had lost it.
He saw it waiting for him, stuck in the flesh of some dead Black Hoof thug lying on some other bodies. Salt Shaker had already sustained six cuts around the legs and chest, though he could still walk.
He limped towards the knife, as more guards began to file into the room.
But, as he reached down to pick it up, a sharp pain in his side sent him reeling over to the ground.
It was Anvil’s own hatchet, stuck between two ribs, that had brought the giant down, groaning in agony while Anvil’s sickly smirk mocked him from above.
Anvil noticed Blondie above too, right as he managed to dart suddenly to the left and cause both of his pegasus pursuers to crash headfirst into a column. Teeth and blood from the impact sprinkled down to the ground like rain.
Blondie descended back down, and first believed Salt Shaker to have been killed.
He stood facing Anvil and the pack of vengeful thugs that were still alive.
Anvil laughed, and began stomping towards Blondie, who was not sure how to prepare against the stallion twice his size.
Anvil first swung left with his hatchet, though Blondie could dodge it.
The second time he was not as lucky.
Blondie spat blood directly into Anvil’s face, and held onto the hatchet handle for dear life. It was stuck in his side, blood leaking out like a punctured fruit.
Anvil scowled and smacked Blondie free, tumbling off to the ground beside Salt Shaker, both now bloody messes.
From his desk, that smirk had not once left Crozer’s face.
“Blondie...Another alley corpse dragged onto the street. Looks like you’ve finally run out of tricks.”
Blondie, gasping for breath and clutching his wounded side, lifted his head up, sweat dripping off his stubbly face.
Blondie smirked, subtly, and glanced towards the window.
Crozer, confused, slowly followed Blondie’s line of sight out the tall window to his right.
“Oh, you’ve got to be-”
Glass flew across the room from either direction; each and every window broke upon impact, when that black iron shell came screeching at full speed from its spout.
Outside, in a bright pink hot air balloon, a pink earth pony sat with four bouncing legs behind a basket-mounted cannon. Her mouth hung open, while the smoke cleared from the cannon and the interior of the top floor she had just annihilated.
“That….was...amazing!” Pinkie exclaimed.
It was Blondie who had caught wind of Pinkie’s experience with cannons, party-themed of course. And, naturally, he could think of a decent use for a skill like that. Salt Shaker marveled at the hot air balloon from outside, glancing at Blondie in shock.
“So that’s what you meant,” he muttered.
Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy, who had been flying on either side of the hot air balloon, soon swept inside through the hole in the glass.
The cannonball had cleared the entire building, without issuing a single casualty. Though, its impact was so disorienting, that nearly everypony was now down on their knees, holding onto their heads while the ringing refused to break away.
“Blondie, you bastard,” Crozer muttered, reaching for his desk drawer to draw a knife of his own.
Blondie was back to his hooves, right as Rainbow and Fluttershy caught up with him.
“You’ve got a funny sense of timing.”
“Better late than never,” Rainbow smiled.
Rainbow picked up on some thug moaning as he stood upright, and, without delay, she promptly lobbed a solid kick with her hind legs, crushing his rib cage and caving in his chest.
Blondie could not help but be impressed. Rainbow shrugged.
Blondie knelt besides Salt Shaker, who was also in the process of rising back to his hooves.
“You’re not having a good night, are you, Blondie.”
Blondie caught his breath, shaking his head.
While the thugs all began to rise back up, Anvil made it first, cracking his jaw and shaking his head to quell that incessant ringing.
“I think I’ve just about had enough of you,” Anvil muttered.
Rainbow stepped up first to challenge the hulking stallion, only to be held back by Salt Shaker, who took the point instead.
“You’re hurt,” Blondie pointed out.
Salt Shaker only glared at him, and turned back to face Anvil.
“Get what you came for, Blondie. Leave the rest to us,” Salt Shaker said, tossing two of his remaining grenades over to Blondie.
Rainbow grabbed a hold of Fluttershy’s hoof.
“Don't go anywhere” Rainbow said. Fluttershy, who was quaking from head to hoof, nodded through her jittering. Rainbow flew over to Blondie.
Blondie stormed towards the briefcase, but was again impeded, this time by Crozer’s knife spinning through the air, slicing off a few strands of hair before it deflected off of a marble column.
Blondie spun around to face Crozer, who was suffering a headache from that cannonball blast. Rainbow arrived beside him.
"Who're your little friends?" Crozer asked, "They know how to make an entrance."
"Twilight Sparkle sent me," Rainbow said, "The murders in Ponyville, what do you know?"
Crozer glanced at Blondie, puzzled.
"That's what you're after me for? I don't get to say this often, toots, but of that, I'm innocent."
"I told you," Blondie said.
"But..." Rainbow stuttered, unwilling to give up so easily.
"So your friend Twilight Sparkle sent you to bother me. And you have. But trying to pin that slaughter on me? Well, that just won't do."
"Rainbow, go take care of your friends," Blondie said, "I'll handle him."
Rainbow was too furious to argue, storming away to rejoin Salt, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie.
Crozer's eyes followed her for a moment, before returning to Blondie.
“Blondie...You have no idea how valuable that briefcase is…”
“You're right. It's about time I find out,” Blondie replied.
Blondie narrowed his eyes, and reached down to pick up Crozer’s knife that had fallen to the ground.
“Blondie...Brandy's one of us. Always been one of us. A crook. A cheat. A killer. She’ll toss you aside once she’s gotten what she wants. Whatever you think you had with her, forget it.”
Blondie shook his head.
“I’ve had you figured out since the day I picked you up from that fire. Ungrateful rat. I saved your life! And this is how you repay me?”
Blondie glanced down at the knife in his hoof, and for a moment he found himself hesitating.
Crozer took advantage of Blondie’s indecisiveness, making a break towards him with a second knife drawn.
But Blondie was quicker, dodging the blade and grabbing a hold of Crozer’s arm. He bent it upwards and socked Crozer right in the face, spinning the gold-toothed slick-haired stallion around three times, before he came falling on his face in a daze.
“Consider us even,” Blondie muttered, tossing the bloodless knife off to the side.
Rainbow Dash had been enjoying a peaceful life for too long, she thought, as she struggled to keep up with the horde of brutish stallions sprinting towards her. Taking flight, she could dodge and confuse them as much as she was able, though their numbers were overwhelming.
Fluttershy, meanwhile, was crouching in the corner, shaking in fear.
“Fluttershy!” Rainbow yelled mid-flight, as she avoided the swing of some thug’s burly spiked mace.
“Help!” she added, as Fluttershy had made no movement at all.
Fluttershy was close to tears; she was petrified. Death had never felt so close these days.
Trembling, the sight of Rainbow narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half was convincing her to act against her better wishes.
Fluttershy spread her wings and rushed over towards Rainbow.
The thug with the mace had found his opportunity, drawing it behind his head with the intention of smashing Rainbow’s skull to bits.
But Fluttershy arrived in time, grabbing his hoof and pulling backwards with all her strength.
The thug lost his balance, and fell backwards in a heap, unwittingly knocking his head on the metal hilt of a pony’s downed axe.
Rainbow took out the last thug with a kick to the face, and joined Fluttershy down below.
“What would I do without you?” Rainbow said, smiling.
Anvil was there, at the front, recognizing both ponies as some accomplices of Twilight Sparkle.
“Now here’s a real prize,” Anvil said, smacking his lips.
He broke out towards the two of them, and despite Rainbow’s best efforts, she could do little to stop the titan stallion’s charge.
He snatched Rainbow from the ground, and tossed her into a column. He held her up by her neck, and squeezed his hoof around her throat, tighter, and tighter, and tighter, until Rainbow’s face was purple and she could feel her eyes bulging from their sockets.
“Rainbow!” Fluttershy cried, unable to help while she was avoiding the onslaught of thugs rushing towards her.
Then Salt Shaker tackled Anvil from behind, forcing him to release his grip from Rainbow, who had already passed out from lack of oxygen.
Fluttershy, fearing Rainbow could be dead, ran over to her to check on her pulse.
Fluttershy, fearing the worst, picked up Rainbow by her front legs, and began dragging her back towards the broken window.
“Pinkie Pie!” Fluttershy screamed. Pinkie was still in the hot air balloon, waiting for the others. Realizing Fluttershy was flagging her down, Pinkie quickly got to work scooting the balloon closer.
Salt Shaker, though he was still bleeding profusely, was far from defeated, as Anvil had the misfortune of learning.
Salt Shaker landed not one, but two full-wind punches up Anvil’s jaw, loosening every tooth he still had.
“You know, I never liked you,” Anvil managed to say, coughing up blood.
“The feeling was mutual.”
Salt Shaker landed a third punch, this time straight up Anvil’s chest, tearing into the boorish stallion's breastbone, splintering bone fragments in a red frenzy. A hole was left where Salt Shaker’s hoof had been, blood and chips of bone stuck to his fur.
Anvil’s face was of shock, and the stallion came crashing to his knees. He keeled over on his side, dead.
While Salt Shaker was busy with Anvil, Blondie had made it to the safe, planting both of his grenades against it and releasing the pins.
He raced back towards the other side of the room. But he was not as fast as he thought, and the explosion sent him flying backwards into one of the marble columns, crashing down hard on his shoulder when gravity caught up to him.
With weak eyelids, he saw the safe had been shaken open during the blast; and inside he saw a black leather briefcase.
The briefcase.
He smiled in relief, just to know that it was there, that it was real.
He glanced to his right just in time to see Fluttershy drag Rainbow into the hot air balloon, the three of them quickly taking off from the scene.
Police sirens could be heard in the distance, closing in, and Blondie knew he was running out of time.
But he had lost too much blood, and his consciousness was waning.
Then he saw Salt Shaker and his bloodshot eyes, limping across the field of corpses and the wounded, heading straight towards the opened safe.
“...Salt,” Blondie said, smiling in relief.
But Salt Shaker was not smiling.
The giant wiped the blood off his face and picked up the briefcase, holding onto it tightly, as if his life depended on it.
Blondie’s smile faded.
“Salt,” he repeated.
Salt Shaker’s eyes passed over Blondie briefly, right as the blue and red lights began to flash from outside.
“Didn’t mean for it to end this way,” Salt Shaker said.
The giant gave a courteous nod of respect to his former partner, and took off towards the exit.
“Wait...Wait,” Blondie coughed, though he was too injured to move much.
But Salt Shaker was gone.
Blondie could do no more, give no more, take no more. He was spent, enough so that he could only mutter some final curses and regrets before falling deeper into that tempting darkness.
Sunburst adjusted his collar, unable to keep eye contact with either of the three shimmering royal soldiers waiting on his stoop.
Behind them was a company of twenty-odd troops.
“Mr. Sunburst?” asked the center pony, the white-coated unicorn mare with the soft blonde mane that curled past her forehead. She was Snowfall Glitter, currently making a subtle inspection of the house from around Sunburst’s shoulders.
Sunburst nodded, his left eye twitching. Blinding sunlight reflected off of the troops’ sparkling spears, and into his eyes.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sunburst. Is this your residence?” Snowfall asked.
“Yes, certainly. Is there something wrong?” he asked, stuttering over his words.
The leftmost lieutenant, the dark velvet unicorn mare with the trimmed magenta mane and serpentine eyes, spoke next.
“Step aside.”
She meant to storm right past the frazzled Sunburst, until Snowfall’s hoof stopped her.
“Excuse us. May we please come inside?” Snowfall corrected, “We only want to take a look around.”
“I believe you need a warrant for that,” Sunburst said, matter-of-factly.
“Yeah, and we can wait out here all day to get one,” said the last lieutenant, the stubbly brown pegasus, “Or you can let us inside, wise guy, and write yourself off our list. Don’t play stupid. You know why we’re here.”
“Honest, sir, I don’t,” Sunburst insisted.
Hawkbit ignored Sunburst, shoving past him inside.
“Hey!”
Hawkbit smacked Sunburst to the ground with his hoof, his eyes burning wildly.
“You do yourself a favor and stay out of our way, wizard.”
Sunburst bitterly made his way back to his hooves, while more soldiers marched inside the house.
“You can’t just come in here and-”
Hawkbit did not wait for Sunburst to finish, running him again to the ground, this time pinning him against his own carpet, as he reached for the knife stashed squarely in his belt sheath.
“You’re gonna pay for what you did. Bronze Beam was a good friend of mine.”
Hawkbit raised the knife and stroked its face against Sunburst’s quivering neck. Sunburst grunted, helpless beneath Hawkbit’s weight.
“Hawkbit,” Snowfall scolded from the kitchen, realizing what he was doing.
Hawkbit, sweat dripping off his chin, had to force himself to back away, denying himself his satisfaction.
“Search the house. They’re here somewhere,” Snowfall said, as more troops filed inside, “And remember. Only use force if absolutely necessary,” Snowfall said, speaking directly to Redshift.
“We’ll see. Not like a real fight would be worth it anyways. These ponies are washed-up has-beens. Probably why they went and did the horrible things they did. To get attention.”
Hawkbit snickered, while checking inside the closet in the living room.
“What more would you expect, from a bunch of rejects?” Redshift added, laughing to herself.
Above in the attic, Starlight was struggling to stay still, her heart alive with indignant, stubborn vengeance. Twilight didn't have the stomach to confront her face-to-face, it seemed.
They had been listening to the ponies below through the thin floorboards, careful not to make a sound.
“What do we do about him?” asked Hawkbit.
“He’s a suspect nonetheless,” Redshift said, “Bring him in for questioning. Use whatever means necessary. Twilight’s orders.”
Hawkbit smirked.
Snowfall glared at the two of them.
“We’re not resorting to extremes, if that’s what you mean,” Snowfall said, aggressively sticking her nose in Redshift’s face.
Redshift was undeterred, standing tall to try and meet Snowfall at eye level.
“We do as Twilight commands, or have you gone soft on us already?" Redshift scowled.
Snowfall bit her lip and backed down slightly.
“Just finish checking the house," Snowfall said, "I’ll speak with Twilight personally about what to do with the suspect.”
Redshift turned her attention back to the kitchen.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are...You can’t run forever,” she muttered.
“Maybe they’ve already left?” one of the soldiers suggested.
“It’s possible. Wouldn’t expect more from the cowards,” Redshift snarled.
But the suspects in question were closer than she had presumed, as she would discover, when a flash of light in the living room revealed Starlight and Trixie, back against back, horns glowing like torches.
Starlight struck down Hawkbit first, and at least five of the soldiers nearby with a splash of electrified flaming blue magic.
Hawkbit seized back and collapsed by the door, dazed and confused.
“There you are,” grinned Redshift from the stairs, jumping down and charging her horn.
Starlight dodged Snowfall’s quick attempt at freezing her in a block of ice, and grabbed a hold of Sunburst.
“Hang on!”
Starlight teleported the three of them to the kitchen, again catching a group of guards unprepared. Sunburst returned to his hooves, while Starlight shot down every soldier who dared to face her, non-fatally.
Trixie fired back in rapid succession, though she was no match for Redshift nor Snowfall, whose battery of hot flashes nearly sent her doubling back into the void.
Trixie scurried to the kitchen to take cover around a corner.
Starlight instinctively ducked down behind the counter, pulling Sunburst below with her. She moved just in time, when a series of repeating magical bullets came bursting through the wall separating the kitchen wall, annihilating the nearby windows and furniture.
Sunburst screamed, shielding his face from the broken glass.
Starlight jumped back up, right as Snowfall took her stride forwards.
“Starlight Glimmer...I don't want to hurt you," Snowfall warned.
Starlight scowled, and her horn continued glowing blue.
Snowfall tilted her head in disappointment, and launched her icy beam of magic straight towards Starlight.
Starlight met the attempt with a magical beam of her own, and the two were met at a gridlock.
Soldiers began pouring in from the other entryways. Trixie could only hold off so many, hiding behind what remained of a wooden cabinet.
Redshift entered the kitchen, and spotted Sunburst first, charging her horn with the intention of removing a suspect from the list.
Or at least she planned, before an electric blue wave knocked her forwards from behind.
Sunset Shimmer had appeared in a flash of light and sparkling stardust, her eyes on fire.
Redshift crashed to the ground, half-conscious.
Sunset took it upon herself to do away with every other soldier that chose to rush in from the openings.
The first three were torn in half, diagonally across by a bloody streak of violent blue.
The next four saw only blinding white light before that searing burst of fire erupted through their heads and chests. Steaming, gushing blackened mealish guts spilled onto Sunburst’s polished hardwood floor, while empty skulls came barreling against walls. And Sunset was grinning the whole while.
Meanwhile, Snowfall had Starlight split even, having to actually make an effort to withstand the force of impact. Then a fire was reignited within her, and she could see to it to push even harder, eventually spinning Snowfall off balance.
Snowfall came flying backwards all the way into Sunburst’s living room wall, leaving a pony-sized crater in the wall. Snowfall gave a light-pitched grunt and collapsed forwards, sorely defeated.
“Not bad,” Starlight admitted, and Snowfall could just barely hear her, before passing out.
“Starlight, c'mon!” Sunset exclaimed, before turning to Sunburst, “Teleport us out of here, we’ll hold them off!”
Sunburst began charging his horn, waiting for Starlight to race back.
“More are coming,” Trixie warned.
“Starlight!” Sunset yelled, realizing Redshift was rising back to her hooves.
Before Redshift could surprise Starlight with a heat beam to the face, Sunset caught the velvet unicorn first.
Redshift narrowly dodged the blast, though it was too late. Starlight reached the others just as Sunburst’s spell was near-completion.
Starlight was revolted by Sunset’s work on those poor soldiers, teetering on throwing up at the nightmarish paintjob in the kitchen.
From the ground, Redshift grunted, unwilling to fail Twilight’s assignment.
She ran down towards Sunset, right as Sunburst’s horn was glowing its brightest.
Then all of them disappeared in a flash of light, Redshift included, just as the second company of soldiers stormed forth past the broken-down front door.
“Take a drag, you’ve earned it.”
Eight Ball had just returned to the Erased’s headquarters in Canterlot, still a raving fluster.
Alias greeted Eight Ball with a rare smile, and, as promised, a cigarette.
“Pass,” Eight Ball muttered. There was blood on his hooves. A persnickety griffin’s blood, to be exact.
“It's a shame it had to be done. I know. He was a friend of mine.”
“Some way to treat your friends,” Eight Ball muttered, forgoing his dogmatic cordiality, "I'd hate to be your enemy."
Alias’ jovial demeanor evaporated like a puff of smoke.
He stalked closer towards Eight Ball like a vulture.
“Yes, you would. It just so happens my duty to protect this nation means friends cannot get in the way. Another day without a civil war, you can thank me later.”
Eight Ball shook his head in disapproval.
“Gore entered the Crystal Palace, before we neutralized him.”
“Go figure. What was he up to?”
“Not sure. Shining Armor’s barred all non-military personnel from entering the palace, we couldn’t get in. We're not sure how Gore managed it.”
Alias rolled his eyes.
“Our fool prince. He’s only hurting his own chances.”
“Sir, not to question your judgment, but...what other course of action could we possibly take? If it really is Twilight behind this, we’d need Cadance’s help to stop her.”
“We aim for the path with the least amount of casualties.”
Eight Ball did not understand.
Alias led him down a path in the control room, to peer through a nearby large glass window that led to a laboratory on the other side.
“It’s too soon to let Cadance know of anything. We still don’t know much about what Twilight is after. All we can do for now is keep investigating and prepare for the worst…”
Alias waved over at one test being conducted behind the glass: a trio of scientists were huddled around a petri dish, positioned below a large mechanical barrel-shaped contraption.
“That’s alicorn blood. Twilight’s sample, to be exact.”
The barrel device came to life, spewing out a beam of heated energy towards the petri dish.
A cloud of smoke cleared, and, left behind, the petri dish was completely disintegrated. But the puddle of blood remained.
Alias and Eight Ball both stood dumbfounded.
“We’ll find a way. Somehow,” Alias said, confidently.
“You’ll get used to it,” Starlight smiled, helping Wallflower up to her hooves. Lightning and Suri had traveled alongside them, both lying on the floor, exhausted.
"Are you all alright?" Starlight asked.
Lightning staggered up to her hooves, refusing to allow herself a rest.
“What is this place?” Lightning asked.
“Somewhere safe,” Starlight said.
“How many times have you told us that already?” Suri snarled, from the floor "Starlight Glimmer. I swear. One of these days, I'm gonna-"
Lightning's glare convinced Suri to stop while she was ahead.
They were atop a golden rose rug, with ribbons of firelight washing back and forth over like a wave, crawling out from the lit hearth beneath the chimney.
The cabin was cramped with forgotten-fad furniture and faded photographs hung up crooked on the wall.
“Starlight.”
Starlight’s attention snapped towards the nearby door to the other room of the cabin, where Sunburst had stepped out from the shadows.
Starlight felt like bursting into tears, and was overcome by relief.
She ran to embrace him, cupping his cheek and inspecting his face; the blood was still wet.
“I’m fine,” Sunburst assured, almost dismissively. He pulled away from her.
“What’s this supposed to be, your summer home?” Suri asked.
“My mother’s old cabin. It was the first place I could think of to go. The blizzard outside will slow them down, if they think to look here,” Sunburst explained.
The northern storm had arrived at last; and the shuddering winds brought with them heaps of snow. Starlight had no idea how far from the city they were, but regardless, they could not stay here forever.
“How many?” Lightning asked; part of her wished she had been there to help the others, or perhaps more so to prove that her wings’ injury was of little hindrance.
“...Thirty or forty,” Starlight said.
She spun around the room, eyeing each of them, before her face became twisted and her eyes flashed red. She could spot the corpses and red gore, all of it in its grave repugnancy.
“Where is she?” Starlight muttered.
Trixie bit her lip, she was still shivering from the cold. That, and her nerves had gotten the better of her.
The front door swung open, and the bitter gusts of stormwind howled and howled like a pack of starved wolves, silencing all inside the cabin.
There was Sunset Shimmer, her mane coated in snowflakes, her nose red and her breath stunted. Behind her, she was dragging their newest guest.
Subduing Redshift had been a task, after she had managed to slip into the teleportation tunnel alongside Sunburst, Starlight, Sunset, and Trixie.
Finding herself overwhelmed by the four unicorns, it took mere moments until she was rendered helpless, wrapped up in snakelike magical chains.
Sunset had meant to kill Redshift off the bat; it was Starlight who had made sure no more blood was spilled.
“It’s over,” she had said, before she would return back to the Crystal Empire to retrieve Suri, Lightning, and Wallflower.
Starlight’s glare was enough to send the others backing away with caution. Trixie glanced at Sunset, who pulled at Redshift’s chain leash with a ferocious taunt; she sought to boast of her prize.
“You poor idiots,” Redshift spat from the ground, springing to life, buckling in her chains, “The entire royal army is looking for the lot of you, and now they know where you are. Only a matter of time now. You’ll be running for the rest of your short little lives...”
Sunset planted a hard kick to Redshift’s chest, silencing the serpent-eyed unicorn for a moment.
“Twilight wants us dead. They all want us dead. We’re going to be scrounging for scraps to stay alive. Why waste any of it on her?” Sunset wondered.
Starlight caught her breath; she had only been waiting for the subtlest excuse.
She marched towards an unflinching Sunset. The others all drew still.
Persian blue eyes met cyan, entangled in a bloody coil of jest.
“What you did back there is never going to happen again," Starlight said.
Sunset’s twisted smile grew like a ray of morning sunlight.
“Still afraid of a little blood?”
“You didn’t have to kill them!” Trixie interjected, “You didn’t have to kill them all!”
Lightning had not seen the bloody mess left in Sunburst’s home, so she stayed out of the fray. Suri cared not to choose sides. And Wallflower, she was far too terrified to say much at all.
“I wouldn’t have had to, if you two hadn’t stuck around trying to save that squirrely wizard of yours,” Sunset said.
Sunburst shrunk under the weight of her words.
“We’re not leaving anypony behind,” Starlight said.
“You’re really going to try and blame us for what you did? You’re psychotic!” Trixie exclaimed.
“That’s some way to say thanks for saving your skins. What exactly are you after?” Sunset asked, narrowing her eyes at Starlight.
“The same thing as you,” Starlight said.
“Are we?” Sunset asked, “When it comes to it, when you have Twilight bloodied and beaten and begging for mercy, could you do it?”
Starlight faltered, unprepared for such a question.
“Twilight’s turned her back on us. The world’s turned its back on us,” Sunset said, rising to her hooves, “And you all want to give in to it still?”
“Those soldiers were only doing their duty,” Starlight said, defensively.
“Yeah, they were. Pity their duty was to die,” Sunset countered, “Equestria despises us. There’s no point in playing the hero anymore.”
“Nopony said we had to be the heroes. Doesn’t mean we have to be the monsters they think we are,” Trixie said.
“The three of you would have all been captured or killed if I hadn’t gone back and taken care of it. Or maybe our fearless leader would prefer to die with her delusions,” Sunset spat.
“Sunset, as much as I admire your persistence…None of us are going to survive this if you want to earn Equestria’s wrath,” Starlight said.
“You can keep your death wish and your code of ethics. You think honor is what will save Equestria? Your friends, the changeling and the dragon queen, did honor save them?”
“Careful,” Trixie muttered. Wallflower noticed Trixie’s horn twitch, and a few sparks flew out.
Wallflower and Lightning stood close beside each other, while Suri stood off to the side, silent as the grave.
“It’s selfish. Laying down your life to play it safe when you’d do more good alive. You have no idea what Twilight is even planning! If we all die, it could mean the end of Equestria itself, for all we know,” Sunset exclaimed.
Starlight hesitated, noticing the fear in Sunset's eyes. She suspected Sunset was keeping something from her.
“If we ever want to stop Twilight, we need each other. No one of us can defeat her alone,” Starlight said.
“Starlight,” Trixie said, cautiously, “...You saw what Twilight did to Thorax. She’ll rip us apart without breaking a sweat.”
“We’re dead no matter what, right? Twilight will never let us return to the way things were. None of us,” Starlight said, her eyes passing over each of the others.
“But we’re not hurting innocent ponies. If what we’re fighting for is right, then we have to go about it the right way,” Starlight insisted, "We have to work together, as a team. It's the only way."
“We are not a team," Lightning said, catching Starlight by surprise, "I like you, Starlight. But why should I have to die for your little revenge fantasy? This isn’t my fight."
“And what is?” Trixie said, “You just want to tuck tail and run, because you’re scared. We all would rather go home, but that’s not an option.”
"Well, unlike the rest of you, I'd be harder to catch," Lightning retorted.
“Twilight wants all of you dead. Because of me,” Starlight said, silencing the both of them, “I won’t let her get what she wants. We’re in this together, whether we like it or not.”
“Friendship, love, harmony…Twilight would be so proud. Still living the lie she raised you on,” Sunset said.
Starlight was a hair away from lashing out, but was able to contain herself.
Sunset took advantage of Starlight’s lack of a response, stepping forwards once more.
“When we left that frozen hell, we agreed to stick together," Sunset reminded, "Now it’s either us or them. There’s no going back anymore.”
Suri scoffed.
“And what about her?” Suri asked, glancing at Redshift, who had been struggling in her chains since she was first dragged through the door.
Sunset glanced back at Starlight.
“She lives, for now,” Sunset said, spitefully.
Starlight nodded, and subtly glanced at Trixie.
Trixie lowered her horn.
The fire cackled at them from its stay, and watched on as each of them took to their own spot in the cabin.
Wallflower sat in the darkest corner, alone; Suri sprawled out on a leather couch by the warmth of the hearth; Lightning to the rafters to practice flying on her injured wings.
Starlight found Sunburst having retreated to the kitchen, using an old rag to clean up blood from his injuries, courtesy of Lieutenant Hawkbit.
“I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner,” Starlight said.
Sunburst glanced at her, and returned to his work. The silence was filled only by the howling winds outside, that shook the window frames and splintered the glass. The room they were in was shaded blue from the snow-reflected light flowing in from the scratch-studded window. The door was shut, preventing any of the heat or light from the hearth room from reaching them.
“...You can walk alright?” Starlight asked..
“Yeah,” he muttered.
He continued wiping down the blood and dirt.
“I’m sorry this happ-”
“All I had to do was close the door,” he interrupted, “And lock it shut, and pretend I hadn’t heard your voice coming down the walk.”
Starlight’s face fell.
“...That was everything I had. My home. My life. I can never go back. They’ll make it slow, once they have me. They’ll make it last days,” he said, shuddering.
“Twilight would never hurt you,” Starlight insisted.
“She’s willing to kill you. She certainly won’t have a problem killing me.”
“So you believe me now?” Starlight said, “That I didn’t do it?”
Sunburst, again, declined to answer.
“I don’t want you to get hurt. Sticking with us means your life's in danger,” Starlight said.
“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s going to be in danger for a long time anyway.”
“I never meant for this to happen to you,” Starlight said, distraught.
“Never meant it,” he repeated, punctuated by a subdued laugh of despair, “You keep putting your life on the line for me, one day it will get you killed.”
“I would die for you,” Starlight said, suddenly, “I wouldn’t think twice.”
Part of her expected some validation in return, though Sunburst had no such intentions.
“We were parted, once. And it nearly killed me. I can’t leave you again,” Starlight said.
Sunburst’s heart sunk in his chest, and he could not bring himself to even make eye contact.
“You should go check on your friends,” he said, his eyes nervously darting to a stray spot on the floor.
“Sunburst,” Starlight continued, “...I-”
“Don’t,” Sunburst said, sporadically bringing his hoof towards her mouth, “Please, don’t."
Starlight was frozen for a moment, and Sunburst’s merciless cold eyes left her alone in that blue inferno; she could not see, she could not hear, nothing except for those eyes of his, and those words that stung like murder.
Starlight struggled to back away, though, on shaky legs, she managed to stumble away from him, out the door back to the warmth of the hearth.
Sunburst tried not to steal a glance at her before the door shut; he was out of breath. He checked the old clock on the wall that miraculously still worked. He scratched his beard, he wiped the sweat from his brow, he sighed and shut his eyes, and prayed that it would all be over quickly.
Soon enough, it would be worth it.
Sunset sat beside Redshift, and the two could enjoy each other’s malicious glares by the light of the fire.
Redshift’s serpentine eyes were like doses of venom.
Redshift struggled against her magical chains, which were strong enough to dim her own magic, prohibiting her from doing much other than lie helpless on the ground.
“I imagine this must be difficult for you," Sunset said, "Captured like a dimwit village girl carted off by marauders.”
Redshift, who would prefer sticking to the silent treatment, reluctantly gave in.
“You can’t win. We know your name. Your face. And if there was ever any doubt what kind of ponies you were, now there’s twenty butchered corpses of the royal army that would beg to differ," Redshift said.
“Keep up that attitude, and it’ll be twenty-one.”
“Who am I to judge?” Redshift shrugged, “If Princess Twilight wanted me dead, I'd be scared enough to do whatever it takes. But luckily for me, I’m not some washed-up outcast chasing a headline.”
“No,” Sunset replied, “Instead you’re a glorified errandgirl following your princess’ orders like a beast of burden. Did you manage to finish washing out her chamberpot before you left her highness’ pretty palace in Canterlot? Or will she be missing your dutiful services?”
Redshift tilted her head, bearing a resentful, amused grin.
“Your friend’s turning them against you,” Redshift said.
Sunset narrowed her eyes.
“The pegasus, the seamstress, the gardener, they may be rotten, but they're nothing compared to you. They think of you as a monster. They'll leave you behind, the second they get a chance.”
Sunset glanced back behind her; Starlight was still in the room with Sunburst.
“Starlight Glimmer is not your friend. Sunset.”
Sunset slammed her hoof into Redshift’s nose, crushing it.
“Shut up.”
Redshift snickered, while blood trickled over her lips.
“You might have fooled some of them, Sunset Shimmer. But not me. I know that look. The humiliation. The jealousy. Twilight’s ruined you. Made you into some villain, some campfire horror story. All you ever wanted was to be the hero, no? But that was taken from you. All around Equestria, they say your name with hatred, with disgust. Must be frustrating. And there’s nothing you can do about it. Or, maybe there is…”
Redshift’s grin was unnerving.
“You could be the hero again, Sunset. Turn Starlight in. She’s the only one Twilight cares about, you know that. The only one that has to die.”
Sunset shook her head, horrified.
Redshift’s laugh made Sunset’s heart sink.
“You don’t want to go down this path. You think killing is the sweetest thing? The antidote to your anger, that hole inside you? It’s not. I would know. All I ever wanted was to have it my way. To take a life, it gave me all the power I ever wanted. But it never helped. I learned to live with that. The emptiness. But here you are, with the same choice. You’re running out of time, Sunset Shimmer. Join us, give up Starlight, and save yourself. Or else you'd better learn to live with it too.”
Sunset rose to her hooves, her smile having faded into deep revulsion.
“I already ran out of time.”
Redshift smirked, and lowered her head back to the ground, enjoying the warmth of the fire.
Sunset fell back from the fire, away to the cold corners of the cabin, that cursed and crooned and cared little for her confusion.
And Redshift smiled into the flames, that danced and sang and bore flakes of fire to climb through the air. Her serpentine eyes fell easy against the fire, and despite her chains, she was safe and sound.
Down the moss-sodden charcoal steps of the Silkwood palace, beneath stony gray darkness and past the coarse wooden dungeon doors, Bandolier had arrived alone.
At his own insistence, Bandolier had seen Amity Stiletto and Flamberge be made to watch over Lavender at all times during the day.
And while the fair lady was under strict protection, Bandolier had seen himself out from the fray of terrified aristocrats gathered in frilly flusters, begging for answers and wondering which of them might be next.
He was escorted to the dungeon by request, his horn glowing brilliant ruby red.
The dungeon was empty, as it typically was, with the exception of one shadow resting against the musky bone-black brick, in the farthest, darkest cell.
Bandolier waited for his escort to close the door behind him, the faint sound of water drops on the brick singing their miserable tune.
He trotted down the narrow path between the brookbed rock, past the dim cell bars and dust-coated spiderwebs.
Coming to a stop before that last cell, he wondered who would have to speak first.
The silhouette, still boasting her canary yellow dress, paid him no notice.
Bandolier reached into his belt, and pulled out a knife, eight inches long. Its shine, its shimmer, its song, the girl behind the bars seemed to recognize.
“This is dragonsteel,” Bandolier said, gliding its blade across his hooves, staring into his shadowy reflection in its silver glory. The hilt was carved from fine bronze metal, engraved with rust gold accentuations; and from its maw was that precious blade, that had come all too close to taking poor Lady Lavender’s life into its cold indifference. Molded by dragonfire, its hot shimmering sleek finish was unmistakable.
“Where’d you steal it?” he asked, his eyes shooting back up to the shadow.
The girl raised her head suddenly, and seemed to be offended.
“I’m not a thief.”
“Honest ponies don’t come by weapons like these.”
“...It was a gift to me,” she said, though it came as an alibi.
“Of course. And to do this gift justice, you use it to make a name for yourself as a cutthroat.”
“I’m not a cutthroat, either.”
Bandolier’s smile faltered.
“A personal vendetta, perhaps.”
The girl had an evil smile to her, and it made Bandolier uneasy.
“You’re dumber than you look. Did you know that?” she grinned.
Bandolier smiled again, amused.
“You can talk yourself to death in there, rotting in that cell. Or I could help you.”
“You came to gloat. You've gloated,” she said, “Your lady will be wanting you. Nopony is ever truly safe, not anymore."
“She’s not my lady. I’m here to protect her from the likes of you. Now, if you’re quite finished, who do I have the pleasure?”
The girl crept forwards from the shadows, her starry violet eyes sparkling in the stray streams of dustshed light that spilled in through the odd cracks in the stone.
She eyed him, uneasily, and instinctively he reached back for the knife.
“Ah. Erased. Of course,” she groaned.
Bandolier raised an eyebrow.
“You know who we are?”
“Who else could you be? You’re not as clever as you all like to think.”
“Speak for yourself,” he replied, glancing at the prison bars.
“Why are you helping her?”
“Lavender was designated a potential target for the killer. Looks like that prediction was correct,” Bandolier said, relishing in his victory. He was picturing Alias' face, the honors, the medals.
The girl snickered in disbelief.
“You think I'm the killer? Maybe you're not all as clever as I thought.”
Bandolier stared at her, blankly, unsure what she was alluding to.
“You really don’t have a clue, do you? I’m not the killer.”
“Then tell me who is.”
The girl opened her mouth to answer, but quickly shut it before any words could escape.
Bandolier leaned in closer, intrigued.
“...I can’t. She’d kill me, if I told-”
Bandolier eyed her, letting the silence apply the pressure he needed.
“Just forget it, OK? It won't do you much good to stick your hoof deeper into the hornet's nest. Just get out of here.”
Bandolier nodded, deciding not to pester her for information any longer; since it appeared he wouldn’t be getting any.
He turned to leave, but stopped almost instantly.
“I’m Bandolier, by the way.”
The girl’s eyes fluttered.
“...Clover.”
Bandolier left her with a cordial nod, before leisurely finding his way back out of the darkness.
Blinking white lights drowned the hospital bed in fluorescent fog, when his eyes opened with a violent shake and withered grunt.
He was alone, lying on that white-sheeted bed in a pristine patient’s room. Reaching to itch his stubbly face, Blondie was grieved to find his right front hoof was handcuffed to the rail of the bed.
He tensed up all over, and meticulously inspected his surroundings from the bed. His memory was all smoke, and his head was pounding.
He truly seemed to be alone, to his relief.
But only for a short while, before the door to the room came swinging open.
“Oh, look who’s awake. I was just about to get the nurse,” said his visitor, a pale gray earth pony mare with a sunstruck auburn mane, hidden beneath a blue-brimmed cover.
Blondie recognized the mare, faintly, from years ago. When he had worn that same blue uniform, had time not forgotten.
“...How did I get here?” Blondie muttered in a dull growl, ignoring any version of pleasantries.
The police officer, whose name was Copper Top, took a seat in the tiny chair by the door, facing the belligerent Blondie’s weary glare.
“We found you in the wreck. Miracle you survived.”
Blondie raised an eyebrow.
“...The Den,” Copper Top elaborated, “It came crumbling down. Foundations torn apart by explosives.”
Then a spark set off in the back of Blondie’s head, and his memory was purified.
Salt.
“Your friends were here earlier, to see if you were alive. They weren’t disappointed. Lucky you.”
Rainbow Dash.
Blondie was having difficulty containing his rage, his eyes manically darting along the ground. He tugged at the cuff locked onto his hoof.
Copper Top laughed off his attempt.
“You’ll remain in custody until we figure out what exactly happened downtown. There’s a lot of dead ponies that need explaining. You cooperate with us, you may only see a few years instead of life.”
Blondie grew tired of Copper Top’s threats, throwing his head back down against the pillow behind him.
“I remember you, you know.”
Blondie glanced at her.
“I was a first-year. You were a transfer from Ponyville, friends with Trigger Happy.”
Blondie did not remember her, though was delighted to hear mention of an old friend.
“How is he?”
“Shot dead, two weeks ago. He’ll be spinning in his grave to know you of all ponies was working with the crooks that killed him.”
Blondie caught his breath.
“He didn’t deserve that.”
“No. He didn’t. I remember you. You were thrown out for stealing cash from the evidence safe.”
Blondie sighed.
“I thought you were a hero once,” she said.
“Sorry to disappoint you," Blondie muttered.
Copper Top glared at him, angrily.
“If that’s all,” Blondie muttered, glancing at the door.
“That’s it? You have nothing to say for yourself?” Copper Top demanded.
Blondie’s deep green eyes locked onto Copper Top, unsettling her confident façade.
No words came from his lips; he felt weaker than normal. A step behind once again.
Copper Top saw little point in prodding at his silence.
“The Deputy is coming down here this afternoon. Maybe then you’ll be in a talking mood.”
Blondie’s eyes flashed towards the door, though Copper Top was already en route.
The door slammed shut.
Blondie rested his eyes again; his heart was beating too fast. There was no one left to trust, no one left to go to. He was alone.
“Watch your step.”
Scootaloo ignored Kickstart’s warning, tripping over the snakish rough-runged root and toppling down a short hill.
Scootaloo shook herself off and glared at him, as if to assign him the blame.
He glared at her, unsympathetic.
They had been traveling for two days now, having left Zecora’s hut the second Kickstart found his strength again. Though both of them had grown fond of their forest protector, Kickstart was averse to staying in any one place too long.
Kickstart tried to pay little attention to his companion, who had not once managed to close her trap since hearing of his crooked upbringing as a lab experiment.
“Did they have labcoats and stuff? Did they let you have ice cream after? When I had my tonsils removed-”
“Shut up for a second,” Kickstart muttered, sticking his hoof in front of Scootaloo.
The forest had begun to draw thin, he noticed; the sunlight was returning through the canopy, and the grass grew a bit greener.
“The zebra was right. This must lead out of here.”
Scootaloo felt her heart spring out of her chest.
“I really thought we were never ever gonna get out!” Scootaloo exclaimed.
Kickstart continued on, and Scootaloo caught up, her eyes stuck upwards at his scarred face.
“Where will you go, do you think?” she asked.
Kickstart’s face did not change from its sullen stay.
“Can’t go back north…blackcoats will still be crawling around Ponyville. Canterlot too. Could be a village near here, find work,” Kickstart said, though he had not given much thought to the matter.
“You’ve got any family anywhere?” Scootaloo asked.
He glanced at her, pitying her hope for a happy answer.
“No,” Kickstart replied.
Scootaloo dropped her head, forlornly.
“You could stay with me, I wouldn’t tell anypony.”
Kickstart laughed off the idea.
“Why’s that funny?” Scootaloo demanded.
“The girl who doesn’t know how to shut up wants to keep a secret.”
“I keep lots of secrets. Like, my friend Sweetie Belle used to lick her cat because she thought she was helping clean it. And Apple Bloom, she was the one who-”
Kickstart eyed her.
“Hm…Maybe you’re right.”
“Or I could go to Cloudsdale. Whoever comes for me next, they’ll have to fly first,” Kickstart said.
“Cloudsdale?” Scootaloo repeated, suddenly distraught, “...Uh, I can’t fly to Cloudsdale.”
“Why not? Afraid of flying? At your age?”
Kickstart glanced at her, confused, and then noticed her flapping her smaller-than-ideal wings.
“Hm,” he said, understandingly, “I can’t fly well either, y'know.”
“You don’t have to try to make me feel better. I know it’s pathetic.”
“I’m serious,” Kickstart said, flapping his red-feathered wings, which did appear slightly misshapen and stunted. Scootaloo glanced at him.
“They took me when I was still growing. Never had the chance to sprout a proper pair of wings. That and the things they did to them….”
“I’m sorry,” Scootaloo said.
Kickstart glanced at her. His face hardened, as more memories returned to him.
“Did you consider it, ever?” she asked.
“Consider what?”
“...Giving in,” Scootaloo said, “When everything seemed hopeless. Taking things into your own hooves, I mean.”
“And what good would that have done?” he asked, “They’d only find some other kid and stick him into my old slot,” Kickstart said, increasingly becoming agitated, “No. One of us had to live. One of us had to make it out. Now the blackcoats want me dead, because they’re scared. Scared I could ruin everything for them.”
“But you can’t,” Scootaloo said, “Not by yourself. You said there were hundreds.”
“Yeah, hundreds. Hundreds of ponies are going to get what’s coming to them.”
Scootaloo raised her eyebrows, wondering whether Kickstart was serious or not.
“My friends are probably worried about me,” Scootaloo said.
“You should go home, kid. It’s not safe. Ponies are looking for me. You too, probably.”
“...I can’t.”
Kickstart glared at her, “You will.”
“No, I’m not. I’m staying with you.”
Kickstart laughed, heartily, uncertain if she was serious.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“You don’t have anypony,” Scootaloo said, almost aggressively, and Kickstart was caught off-guard, “I’m the only pony on your side in the whole world right now. You need me.”
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Kickstart muttered, baffled by her insistence.
Scootaloo was not sure how to answer.
“Nopony can make it alone.”
Kickstart decided not to argue with her, and carried on forwards.
Scootaloo stuck beside him, smiling to herself, as they neared the end of the treeline.
He hated the smell of cigarettes.
Working alongside Alias, consequently, was an exceedingly difficult task.
“Eight Ball, who was that pony from the Pykelands who was carrying on yesterday? Clutter…?” Alias asked, his grim voice billowing within the tight conference room walls.
Eight Ball, who was seated among the other twelve higher-ranking Erased agents in the control chamber’s conference room below the streets of Canterlot, glanced up from his crossword.
“Clutterbuck.”
“What’s this?” another agent, an earthpony named Scorn, asked.
“Supply constraints, he said,” Eight Ball explained, “Came up before the Senate yesterday to whine about the Badlands embargo. Said the southern villages won’t make it through winter.”
“Trust in the likes of dragons, trust in disappointment,” said Slick, a green-haired pegasus.
“The southerners’ judgment isn’t the issue. The dragons are stubborn. They won’t come to terms until the killer is caught.” Alias said, sourly, “Which absolutely cannot happen.”
"Twilight has sent some sort of envoy to treat with them," Eight Ball said, "I'd be surprised if they returned with all parts still attached."
“We have to take action, Chief,” Scorn said, aggressively, “We can’t just sit here and do nothing. The longer Twilight Sparkle keeps up her charade, the more ponies are going to starve to death in the south.”
“And after that, there will be rebellions. Savagery. Chaos,” Eight Ball continued.
“Chaos!” Alias bellowed, rising to his hooves. Despite his age, his voice carried strong still over his disheveled subordinates. “Chaos will be telling the world their princess has betrayed them! We’ll have slaughter! Civil war!”
“One way or another,” Eight Ball added.
“If it’s inevitable, why wait to let Sparkle take the upper hoof?” Slick asked.
“She already has it,” Eight Ball reminded, "She sits the throne. She's taken out her opposition, for what cause we still don't know. The only ponies strong enough to oppose her are firmly on her side."
“We owe Equestria the truth,” offered a blonde-haired pink pegasus agent, Pink Mist.
“The truth will have them lying in early graves,” Alias corrected, “Every army united on a single front still could not hope to stand a chance against Twilight. She’s young. Her power is still growing.”
“The draconequus could stop her,” Eight Ball posited.
Alias laughed.
“Not in a heartbeat. He can’t be trusted, under any circumstances.”
Eight Ball’s eyes twitched, and he lifted his head back up again.
“Should it come to it…I can think of three creatures who might have what we’re looking for. The only problem is they’re frozen in stone,” Eight Ball said.
Alias glared at him, and the room was stolen silent.
“Deliver us from one tyrant into the hooves of three others. Brilliant, why hadn’t I thought of it?”
“Otherwise she stands unopposed! We have to stop her, somehow. Before whatever war is brewing with the dragons becomes unavoidable!” Eight Ball exclaimed.
Alias sat back down, at a loss.
“Twilight's sphere of influence must be contained, for the meantime. She needs to be kept at bay, before her roots are sunk so deep the entire city bends to her will…Eight Ball, contact Sergeant Genever in Ponyville. I want him moved to Canterlot, with a team of twenty keeping surveillance on Twilight, non-stop. Understand?”
“Yes sir,” Eight Ball replied.
“Our researchers will continue testing to find a weakness. Something to exploit. All we need is time,” Alias said.
“Time is what we’re running out of,” Eight Ball said.
Alias sighed, and scowled beneath the cold gray light of the conference room.
She could not be invincible.
Everypony can be killed.
“Chief,” came a message-runner’s voice bellowing in from the doorway.
Alias raised his head.
“We have a problem.”
Those sparkling spires waved goodbye to her, buried in blizzard-bred snow. The storms ran over the mountains, devouring the city in whole.
For days, Cadance had been locked away in her chambers, sitting at Flurry Heart’s bedside, refusing to eat or drink if it meant leaving her alone. She had not spoken much at all, not to Shining Armor her husband, not to Windchill her Captain of the Guard, not to her servants or emissaries or ambassadors. She found the distraction she craved in her daughter’s innocent eyes, her refuge from the storm whirling about her palace outside.
But her distraction was fleeting to a point; she knew that her safety was an illusion, that the dark thoughts that kept her awake at night would never go away. Not until she could find the reason behind the madness.
Twilight Sparkle.
Those were the last words of Detective Gore’s notebook, the lasting conclusion of his investigation, the toiled-over result that cost him his life, she suspected. Why else leave it with her?
I have to finish it, she thought.
They might be after her next, she feared, whoever murdered that grizzly griffin.
She may have craved safety, and her distractions. But she was also Princess Cadance, First of Her Name, the Chosen Leader of the Crystal Ponies, the Selvites, Moose, Dains, Yaks, Ice Ponies, and the Frost Ponies, the Protector of the North. She was sworn to guard the lives of nearly three-million, until death should relieve her. She knew her duty, she knew she could not sit idly by while wicked forces lurked in the periphery. No matter how much love she had for Twilight, she could not ignore the truth.
So she said her farewells, donned her sheer rose-pink gown and white wolf furs, and boarded her royal carriage.
She told nopony of her departure, save for Shining Armor, and when the sun rose and she was miles away, nopony in the capital even knew their princess was gone.
She chose to start where Gore had forgotten; old enemies of the Crystal Empire, now reluctant friends who may just have the answers she was in search of.
The Changeling Kingdom’s dronish buzzing had been quieter than it was known for as of late, since the murder of their beloved King Thorax.
The changelings were not a particularly mournful group. But they were industrious; two monuments had already been built in Thorax’s honor, within days of the news.
Thorax had fathered no children, nor had he married; thus the title went on to his brother, the cantankerous, belligerent bug-king himself, Pharynx.
Cadance came to the wasteland gates alone, leaving her drivers and pull-horses on the grassy border to rest.
A million pairs of eyes surrounded her, their cold glares like spotlights or jagging jeers; she stepped lightly; one wrong move and a thousand changelings might be atop her at once.
She made her way through their winding grass-moored steps and paths, up woven lunges and weather-worn catacombs.
The changelings bunched together in their hissing droves, eager to take a grudging look at their ancestral enemy. Cadance the Cruel, she had heard some mutter beneath their breath.
Thousands of years of war and hatred between their kinds had left ill-rot animosity lingering in the mud; a treaty may guarantee peace, but not forgiveness.
Cadance paid them all no notice, climbing those wind-swept stairs up the great hive spire, the tallest point in fifty miles every direction. At its peak, she hoped to find the changeling she was looking for.
Some of the changelings crept farther behind her, or buzzed past in the air with a watchful eye.
Leave. Leave. Leave. She imagined them thinking.
She found the topmost level, an open platform resting just below the mist-muddled clouds, guarded by a pair of sleek sable barred gates.
“The King will see no outsiders,” bellowed one of the two guards blocking her path.
She approached the pair with caution. She could see past the gates, the open roof of the great spire, with its claws on the mists and vapors that floated by at such heights.
Though these changelings were more pleasant than their previous incarnations, they still had much to learn in the way of simple pleasantries.
“It’s rather important,” Cadance explained.
The guards would not budge.
“Let her in,” came a gravelly voice, dragged through the weeds and stone cracks, shook and choked and rasped. The voice came from the other side of the gate, hidden beneath the pillars of fog and mist.
The guards were alarmed, and obeyed the command, stepping out of the way, the gates swinging open in tandem.
Cadance left them with a nod of courtesy, and proceeded forwards.
She at last felt free from those watchful eyes, though she was unsettled once more, when she realized she could not see her own hoof in front of her; the fog was too thick.
"Far from home, aren’t you, princess?” the voice came again; he was toying with her. He came from everywhere, and nowhere all at once; his voice was inside her head.
“I’ve traveled a long way to see you,” Cadance said, though she was not sure which direction to address.
“To do what? Finish off my bloodline?”
“I only wanted to speak with you,” Cadance pleaded, and the desperation was almost noticeable.
The fog suddenly subsided, and Cadance could see the face behind the voice at last. His eyes were the color of the night sky, his horns blood red, and his crown of silver, the same as his brother’s, sat crooked over his head.
“Then speak.”
“I wanted to offer my condolences. Personally. Thorax was a good friend of mine. He helped unite our kingdoms after decades of war and distrust,” Cadance said.
Pharynx’s furrowed brow hardened.
“Remorse won't bring him back.”
Cadance sighed.
“You could have flown up here. Saved yourself the climb,” Pharynx said.
“I didn’t want to be too sudden. For some reason I didn't think I'd have a warm welcome.”
Pharynx’s subdued smile fell apart in an instant.
“How many of their fathers and mothers were murdered by you and your Crystal army? They sing songs about you. Dreadful songs. You’re to them what Chrysalis was to you.”
“I had hoped we had made progress since then.”
“Our peace was Thorax’s doing. Now Thorax is dead. And our alliance is seeming less and less worth the costs every passing day.”
“I want to catch whoever was responsible, as much as you.”
Pharynx scoffed, and abruptly turned away from her, retreating towards the edge of the spire. Its base was made of old stone, and the odd ruinous pillar sat here and there, with mossy ferns spitting out its cracks and nooks.
“Look at them down there,” he muttered, gazing down at the marketplaces and homesteads surrounding the spire.
“Few even come above ground anymore. Most of them stay hidden. Cowering like rats.”
Cadance took a few steps closer towards him.
“We were bred to survive. We were bred to protect what's ours. And ours alone," he said.
Cadance narrowed her eyes. He was defending himself. For what?
Pharynx lowered his head, sheepishly, and turned back to Cadance.
“They don’t want me as their king. They never have. It was Thorax they crowned, Thorax they loved. I would have followed him, right to the ends of the earth if he had asked it of me. Instead my brother is dead, and me, the wretch, I endure. He's dead, rotting in the dirt, butchered like some low thief. Twilight Sparkle took me for the fool she took him. But I will not be satisfied until the debt is paid," he said, his voice choked and coarse, “I have only ever loved two things. The hive I’ve sworn to protect, and Thorax. Now Thorax is gone. But the hive is still here. We’re still here.”
Cadance glanced at her satchel, and stuck her hoof inside it.
“I came to show you something.”
She revealed the black notebook, and Pharynx glared at her.
“I wasn’t sure whether to believe it or not. I wanted to know what you think.”
Pharynx’s eyes narrowed, the more he flipped through the pages; after a few minutes he aggressively stuffed it back in her hooves.
“The thought had occurred to me,” Pharynx regretted.
“I heard you spoke with her, just weeks ago,” Cadance said.
“...She was cold. That’s all I remember. Cold, and distracted.”
Cadance nodded, solemnly.
“We cannot be fighting amongst ourselves, if this is true. We’re going to need each other when the time comes.”
“We’ve fought beside the Crystal folk once. We can manage it again,” Pharynx said, and his voice was weakened, “You should leave. It isn’t safe for you here.”
Cadance agreed, and took a few steps back.
“Be careful, Princess,” Pharynx said, while Cadance spread her wings, “True friends are hard to come by.”
Cadance took flight, bursting through the dense mist that hovered above, disappearing into the dizzying swirl.
Lightning Dust landed with a wood-splitting thud, the floorboards bending and creaking like an old stallion, up there on the cabin’s open second story perch. It was the size of a closet almost, guarded with rails, right below the attic. And, at the moment, it was Lightning’s personal crash test site.
She was staring up at the rafters, the orange light from the hearth slithering over the brittle beams and trembling cabin roof boards. Scampers the rat, who usually had his claws dug into Lightning’s shoulder, was cleaning himself in a melted pool of snow, and she could have sworn the rat had been laughing at her a few times.
I’m doing my best, she thought, bitterly.
She gritted her teeth, and tried once more.
Taking off into the air, she fluttered, fluttered, and fell, this time knocking her head against the side of a particularly splintery crate. She groaned in agony, wiping blood off her cheek while lying on her back.
“You shouldn’t be trying it, so soon.”
Lightning lifted her head from the floor, and saw Wallflower, sitting by the stair railing.
The blizzard wind rattled the cabin, and it felt as though they had all moved two inches.
“Haven’t you got somewhere else to be sulking?” Lightning muttered, shaking herself off.
“I thought you could use some company.”
“You thought wrong,” Lightning snarled, flapping her bruised wings a few more times. The pain made her want it even more, to conquer it, to prove she could not be defeated so easily.
“Heartburn said you need to rest, and heal.”
“I've got to fly,” Lightning retorted, bitterly.
“You won’t ever fly again, if you get hurt like last time.”
Lightning glared at her.
"What do you care?" Lightning muttered.
"I do care," Wallflower insisted, "Whether you want me to or not."
Lightning narrowed her eyes.
“...Do you know I could have been the best flier Equestria’s ever seen?” Lightning asked, as if mourning a dead friend, “Fastest Wonderbolt in Academy history! That’s what they said about me. Before they threw me out. Like I was just some nobody.”
Wallflower had not meant to provoke Lightning, who, upon realizing she had said more than she had wanted, decided to give up and allow herself some much-needed release.
“My parents wouldn’t even speak to me. They were too embarrassed. It was more than disappointment, they acted like I'd betrayed them. I wanted to win them over again, work hard, do them right this time,” she said, fighting the tears as much as she could help it, “But no flying academy would take me. Nopony would hire me. My friends all ignored me. I almost made it back to my hooves, started my own team, but the ponies I thought I could trust left me in the dirt. Just like everypony else. Maybe I deserved to be stuck back in that prison. Nopony else wants me."
"I do," Wallflower said, "The six of us have got to support each other, or we're never gonna make it out of this."
"I don't know how," Lightning said, her voice shrinking, "I don't. A-And I don't need friends, anyway. Friends just slow me down, OK? So stop trying to turn me into something I'm not!"
Her voice was quivering, and she glanced up at the ceiling, avoiding having to look at Wallflower as she stuttered over her words.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be....Shoot," Lightning muttered, "I shouldn't yell at you."
"No, it's OK," Wallflower said, reaching out softly with her hoof.
Lightning shut her eyes, and got control of herself before she could break down right then and there.
"...Whenever I couldn’t take it, whenever I felt like it was too much, I would just go for a flight. Take in some fresh air, fly up above the clouds. Sometimes I thought I'd never come down, I was so high up. I was free. I could go anywhere. Do anything. And everything, everypony was far away. When I had nothing, I could at least fly. Now what do I have…”
“...You really want to leave us? Head back home?” Wallflower asked, hesitantly.
Lightning paused before attempting to take flight again.
“And would you be the one to stop me, Wallflower Blush?”
“I wanted to talk you out of it.”
Lightning snickered.
“I thought maybe you would be the only other one to have the sense to get as far away from all this as possible,” Lightning said, “Guess not. I like them, but they're all nuts.”
“We’re wanted as much as they are,” Wallflower said.
“I'm no good to them, anyways. They don't need me. I'm a flier, not a soldier," Lightning said.
“Neither of us would have escaped without them. You know it, I know it. We were both hurt. They could have left us both to die to free up dead weight. But they didn’t. Don’t they mean anything to you?”
Lightning sighed through her nose, and turned away from her, refusing to answer.
“They do need us. And we need them," Wallflower said.
“I don’t need anypony,” Lightning said, spinning around spitefully, “And nopony’s ever needed me. I’ve made it this far, haven't I?”
“With their help,” Wallflower added, “We owe it to them.”
Lightning was practically seething.
But Lightning had no chance to reply, when a strange sound came barreling through the snow outside.
Below, Suri rose from her couch, and Starlight from her spot by the hearth.
Redshift giggled from the floor.
The door flew open in a flash of red heat, smoke billowing in through the room. The fire died with the wind, and the cabin was suddenly black and blue as the night commanded. The wind screamed, a chorus of banshees, while the snow blew inside.
Starlight cast a wall of magic in front of them, uncertain of whatever was storming inside.
“Starlight.”
The frozen night revealed a pair of icy blue eyes, loosely hidden behind a wavy blonde mane, a frozen magical aura shimmering around her horn. There was Snowfall Glitter, an ensemble of royal soldiers filing into the cabin behind her.
Starlight held the shield, while Sunburst rushed inside from the other room, and Sunset jumped to her hooves.
Up above, Lightning stuck her wing in front of Wallflower, keeping her close behind. Lightning could feel the sweat dribbling down the side of her face. She was not strong enough to risk getting herself killed again.
I have to do something, she maintained. Wallflower glanced nervously at her. There had to be twenty or more soldiers below. More outside, probably.
“Snowfall Glitter,” the ice-eyed unicorn introduced, “We never got the chance.”
Starlight was silent. The wind took sweeping breaths outside, and more and more snow blew into the cabin. Snowfall was the only one not shivering. Starlight noticed the bruises on Snowfall's face and chest. She recognized her own work.
“Looking for somepony?” Sunset asked, dragging a bound Redshift along beside her.
The moon was almost visible in the doorframe, casting light on Redshift’s unbridled fury kept contained by her chains.
"Redshift," Snowfall said, flatly.
"Snowfall," Redshift sneered, bottling up her humiliation.
“Starlight, listen to me. There’s no need for anymore violence,” Snowfall said.
“There will be, if you all don’t leave now,” Sunset said. Her horn glowed blue, and she was delighted to see both rows of soldiers flinch and move backwards uneasily; most of them had seen what that horn was capable of.
“Sooner or later, you’ll run out of spots to hide. Run out of friends. Run out of chances,” Snowfall said.
Starlight’s horn glowed brighter, but then suddenly fizzled out. She attempted to cast a spell again, until a piercing headache sent her collapsing to the ground in agony. The shield broke into shattered shards. Starlight groaned while the pain died down, gasping for breath, trying to rise back to her hooves.
Terrified, she glanced up at Snowfall.
“An inhibition charm,” Starlight wondered. Snowfall nodded in affirmation.
“Temporarily powerless," Snowfall remarked.
Sunset too, realized her horn had short-circuited, dim sparks flying out wildly through the air. Trixie fared no better, as Starlight discovered, her horn spitting up a messy spew of sparks.
Redshift’s chains had evaporated, and, now free, she managed to seize upon her captors’ disorientation, crawling over towards Snowfall. Starlight shook her head, madly almost.
“No, no, that charm has to be personalized,” Starlight said, her voice shot with despair, “You couldn’t have cast it!”
Snowfall’s eyes flickered over to the pony by the door, whose eyes were stuck on the ground, who could not bring himself to speak on his own behalf.
“No,” Starlight said, while Sunburst’s horn gently dimmed.
Keeping his eyes stolen to the floor, he dragged his hooves over to Snowfall and the soldiers’ side of the cabin. The others were all watching him as he went, petrified. What was he doing?
He sauntered over towards Snowfall, grinding his teeth between his shivering.
“...You little rat!” Sunset exclaimed, horrified.
“Sunburst?” Trixie muttered under her breath, scornfully.
Suri backed up towards Trixie, confused and scared out of her wits.
“He gave us a call, let us know where you were,” Snowfall said, all while Starlight’s eyes were locked on Sunburst, splitting tears and insisting this had to be some clever bluff.
“It’s over,” Snowfall said, firmly.
Five pairs of eyes were staring daggers at Sunburst, who kept his head lowered and his eyes half-shut. Sunset could have sworn the stallion had shed a few tears.
But Starlight was not enraged as they were, or vengeful or distraught; she felt lighter than air at that moment.
Twilight
Sunburst
Who was left at her side still? Trixie? For how long?
She broke down into laughter, and the tears came with it.
Sunburst could not bear her gaze; his lip was trembling, he was shaking all over.
Snowfall’s horn glowed the color of ice, and she took a step closer.
“You’ll be coming with me, Starlight.”
From above, Lightning subtly spread her wings, which were still partially wrapped in bandages, while Wallflower glanced over at her.
“Lightning…” she whispered, “You can’t,” she cautioned.
Lightning sighed, turning her head towards her.
“After this, I don't owe anypony,” she muttered, dumping Scampers in Wallflower’s hooves. The rat frantically climbed its way into Wallflower’s curly mane, terrified.
“Lightning,” Wallflower said again, raising her hoof to try and stop a grinning Lightning.
But it was too late.
Lightning Dust came soaring down towards Snowfall, her withered wings able to glide her haphazardly towards her target. She collided with Snowfall at a wicked speed, and along with three other soldiers, knocking them all to the ground.
“Kill them! Kill them all!,” Redshift roared, rising to her hooves, her magic gradually returning after having been inhibited for so long. Her eyes darted wildly across the room, and centered on Sunset.
“Sunset!” Starlight cried, pulling her back right as the row of soldiers drew their spears, approaching Suri, Starlight, Trixie, and Suri with murderous intent.
“Trixie?”
“My magic’s shot too,” Trixie muttered.
One of the guards threw his spear straight for Suri’s head; though Trixie was able to flip over a table and block its roaring tip, with half a second to spare.
Trixie was able to hold up the table in front of them, blocking three more spears before her grip fell apart.
Sunset shoved Trixie over behind the corner of the chimney stones, finding some short-lived cover while the soldiers continued their march.
Starlight reached to the ground for a book that had fallen off the spear-leaden coffee table, and threw it at one of the guards, knocking him backwards.
Starlight broke into a sprint, trampling the guard and scouring for where Lightning had fallen.
Lightning was swinging her hooves in every which way, having already knocked out three guards cold.
The soldiers seemed disinterested in her, for the most part, until one had his spear pulled back, prepared to drive it straight through Lightning’s heart.
Starlight arrived first, however, shoving the soldier into the wall and pulling Lightning back with her.
Suri had taken a liking to Starlight’s book-throwing technique, having already thrown the majority of the cabin’s library at the row of soldiers pressing forwards.
Starlight and Lightning arrived back beside her, the latter suffering some mild head trauma from yet another crash landing.
“I think I need to work on that,” Lightning muttered, deliriously.
"Are you OK?" Starlight asked, and Lightning nodded her head, narrowly avoiding a passing blast of magic. Starlight held Lightning by her shoulder, helping her stand upright. Lightning leaned against Starlight, grunting in pain from her recent collision.
“What do we do?” Suri screeched.
“I’ve studied that charm, it will wear off after a while…We just need to hold them off,” Starlight said, dodging a crossbow bolt that would have torn through her neck.
“There’ll be an army pouring in here soon enough,” Sunset said from the chimney edge.
Wallflower took them all by surprise, jumping off from the stairway perch, landing hard on her side.
“Ouch,” she muttered.
Starlight helped her up, and the six of them were all backed against the wall.
“Suri, Trixie. Go out the back and see if we can escape into the snow,” Starlight muttered.
“Into the blizzard?” Trixie asked, shocked, “Are you out of your mind?”
Starlight glared at her.
“You’re right. It’s not a good plan,” Starlight said, “What’s yours?”
Trixie faltered, and, without delay, ran along with Wallflower towards the adjacent room, where the backdoor exit was.
Sunset reached for Lightning, and together they pulled down one of the grand old bookcases, using it as cover once more.
But Lightning did not notice, when a unicorn soldier’s beam of furnace-orange magic came searing towards her forehead.
Wallflower pulled her back towards her, and held the exhausted pegasus in her arms.
She was lighter than she looks, Wallflower thought.
Lightning fell into Wallflower’s arms, and nodded a show of thanks. Wallflower was not sure if that was a smile on Lightning’s face or not. The pegasus looked dazed, or half-conscious. That fall must have scrambled her skull a bit.
“Starlight!” Snowfall yelled from the other side of the room, “I could end this the hard way, right now if I wanted to. But I don’t want that. Twilight doesn't either...Please, give up.”
Starlight winced at the mention of Twilight, and suddenly became enraged.
Redshift glared at Snowfall, and her magic was nearly restored.
“End this. We have them,” Redshift muttered, gritting her teeth. Snowfall made no movement.
“Snowfall. End it.”
“They’re defenseless,” Snowfall said.
“So end it.”
“...We can't.”
“Haven’t they slaughtered enough!” Redshift yelled, “How many more have got to die, because you’re too much of a coward!”
Redshift then felt her horn spit up some sparks, and her serpentine eyes flushed red for a moment.
Her magic now restored, her horn glowed a vicious green, and she sent off her wicked ray of ear-piercing death straight for Sunset’s head, which was partially poking out from behind the bookcase.
But the blast never found its mark; Starlight had seen it first, and shoved Sunset to the ground before she could be incinerated.
“Thanks,” Sunset muttered, and it seemed to ail her.
“This way!” Trixie cried from the other room.
Starlight shoved the others along towards the backdoor, the soldiers racing to catch them.
Starlight waited until the others were all through before following after them herself.
But she was held back, when a soldier’s spear found its target, slicing open her left hind leg.
Starlight cried out in pain and buckled to the ground. A host of soldiers were upon her, and she could only think of the pain.
Trixie came first, slamming her hoof into the jaw of one soldier, robbing him of his helm and knocking it over the skulls of two others, sending them both toppling to the ground.
Lightning came second, rushing to slam the door shut before anymore soldiers could come pouring in.
“Is she alright?” asked Suri, waiting by the door.
The soldiers pounded on the door to the other room, and Lightning knew she was losing her strength.
“Come on, I’ve got you,” Trixie said, pulling Starlight to her hooves.
A beam of icy magic nearly cut Lightning in half, bursting apart the door and giving the soldiers free reign to storm in after her.
"Hey, wait up!" Lightning cried.
Lightning ran out the backdoor into the blizzard, disappearing into the nightstruck white madness after the others, who had all vanished like ghosts.
Six of the soldiers gave pursuit, disappearing themselves, and Snowfall held off from following after.
Redshift stalked in beside her, gripping her chain marks.
“However many you brought. Have them pursue,” Redshift muttered, “That charm won’t last.”
Snowfall’s eyes danced along with the windtorn snow.
“The blizzard will take them first. The capital’s not for another 20 miles. Rhinefrost not for another 40. They’ll lose each other in the storm, and we’ll at least have a few less to worry about,” Snowfall said.
“We can’t risk that. We need to pursue,” Redshift insisted.
Snowfall turned to her, aggressively.
“It was your impulsivity that had them get the better of us last time, that had you taken prisoner. This time we do things my way. If they survive, they’ll rendezvous in the capital. We’ll meet them there.”
Snowfall trotted past Redshift, who glanced over at the ruthless blizzard winds. It was unlikely for anypony to survive such a storm on hoof, though, nonetheless, Snowfall was not wholly confident.
For these ponies, the unlikely seemed to be of little concern.
Rainbow Dash had been shifting in and out of consciousness on her hotel bed for hours, while Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy lay strewn about on the couch, exhausted.
“Are you alright?” Fluttershy asked, realizing Rainbow was finally awake.
Rainbow shook her head rabidly; there was a searing pain in her forehead. There were marks on her neck, and her breathing was weak and thin.
She sat herself up, and took a look around the dingy hotel room, with its poorly-working television and a mountain of snow resting on the window sill. The city lights shed colors of all kinds on the canvases of snow, atop park benches and streetlamps and roofs and storefronts.
“What happened?” Rainbow asked.
“You were hurt, we had to get out of there,” Fluttershy said. She was expecting some form of retaliation, though Rainbow was utterly spent; she could manage the effort.
“Blondie?” she asked.
Fluttershy shook her head.
“We saw him earlier in the hospital!” Pinkie said, eagerly. Fluttershy glared at her. That was the last time she would trust Pinkie Pie to keep quiet.
“You left him?” Rainbow asked.
“The big stallion left him too. The police got him,” Fluttershy explained.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Rainbow shot back, frustrated, “...None of this mattered at all, did it. Twilight sent us on a wild goose chase. That was it from the start.”
“I’m sure she thought we could be of help, she proba-” Fluttershy started.
“You know Twilight as well as I do. She’s always got a plan. She’s always prepared. She knew exactly what she was doing.”
Fluttershy narrowed her eyes.
“Don’t talk about her like she’s the problem.”
Rainbow decided against pressing the matter any further.
“We were sent this too!” Pinkie exclaimed, revealing a folded envelope.
“Twilight’s called for us to come back to Canterlot. She heard what happened up here. She thinks it’s too dangerous for us,” Fluttershy said.
Rainbow stared at the envelope in disbelief.
“So that’s it, huh?”
“Yeah. Once you’re feeling well enough, we’re boarding the first train back to Canterlot.”
“You can go when you like. I’m not leaving.”
Fluttershy sighed.
“You said it yourself, we should never have been here.”
“We shouldn’t have. But what’s done is done. And we can't just leave him here to be arrested or killed. We need to sort this out.”
Fluttershy laughed, astounded by Rainbow’s persistence.
“You know what? Fine. I don't want to argue with you, Rainbow. I just want to go home.”
“Me too,” Pinkie confessed.
Rainbow nodded, and sat back into the folds of her pillow.
“Tell Twilight. I’ll be right here.”
“Don’t get yourself killed for him, please,” Fluttershy said.
“First I have to find him."
Blondie hated to be kept waiting.
The clock struck three, and the deputy had yet to arrive.
To such an extent, that he had begun to wonder what exactly was keeping him lying still on that dour hospital bed. Besides the hoofcuffs, of course.
He was restless.
He had run out of friends, it had seemed, and he had little in the way of taking his grand rescue plan up alone. Though it appeared he had no choice.
Shattered glass suddenly came sprinkling out from the window beside his bed. Blondie flinched, turning right as a cyan pegasus came barreling in through, landing on the ground with an audible thud.
He watched her struggle to her hooves, brushing herself off.
"Nice entrance," he remarked, impressed she had only suffered a few minor cuts.
"I'm getting you out of here," Rainbow said, "You can thank me later."
Rainbow frantically found one of the pagers sitting on the bedside task, and approached Blondie's cuffed hoof.
Blondie got the message, pulling the chain taut against the bed post.
"Try not to break any bones."
"No promises."
Rainbow smashed the pager over the chain, once, twice, three times, until a thundering crack shot through the chainlink.
The door had swung open not a second later, and in came Copper Top, who was smugly sipping at her medium cup of coffee.
“You’ve probably been-What the-!Hey!”
Copper Top frantically reached for her taser, but not quick enough; Blondie had already torn the chain free, springing up from the bed.
Rainbow pulled on him to follow her, while Copper Top struggled to unfasten her taser from her belt.
"You much of a flier?" Rainbow asked, without much care for an answer. She shoved him out of the window in a rush, and zipped off after him, right as Copper Top finally lined up her aim.
Rainbow jumped over the ledge of the window sill, narrowly avoiding the sparkling beads of the taser that Copper Top had fired.
“Central Hospital, Two-one-one! Runner!” she cried into her static-shaken radio.
Blondie struggled to take flight, his wings slightly damaged following his recent brawls.
He made it to the sidewalk below intact, however, and Rainbow was right beside him in an instant.
"C'mon!" Rainbow exclaimed, pulling him along.
Together they fled towards a nearby crowd of pedestrians.
"Mind telling me what happened back there?" Rainbow stammered, scurrying through the crowd.
"Salt's got the case," Blondie explained, bitterly.
"The giant?" Rainbow asked, leaping over a merchant's cart of apples.
"That's the one," Blondie said, and they escape the crowd in a part of town that he recognized better.
"This way," Blondie said, nodding for her to follow his lead.
Sprinting down the street, the two of them only made it a few yards.
"Hey!" Rainbow cried out, feeling a pony's hoof wrap itself around her neck.
Blondie stopped in his tracks, and turned around to see six more ponies reveal themselves from the surrounding allies. Rainbow squirmed under the stallion's grasp, as she felt the air slip out of her lungs.
Blondie was speechless, until a familiar face followed after the others from the dark of the alley.
With a yellow grin, Crozer pawed at the bruise on his face, gifted by Blondie just a day prior.
"Luck's just not on your side, is it, Blondie..."
Snowfall Glitter, along with her company of fifty that had taken off for Sunburst’s cabin, returned to Crystal Empire the next morning, half-frozen to death and starved to near-madness.
Redshift envied Snowfall, who never seemed to suffer the cold.
The whole way, neither had dared speak a word to each other.
“Lieutenant,” said one corporal greeting Snowfall at the Crystal Gate, “Princess Twilight has summoned you, at the vision pool.”
Snowfall glanced at Redshift, and she could barely contain her nervousness.
“Escort Mr. Sunburst to the palace. Hold him there for now,” Redshift ordered.
“What?” Sunburst cried, when two soldiers grabbed a hold of him, “You promised me freedom! Mercy!”
“She might’ve,” Redshift said, glaring at Snowfall, “It’s a shame I’m not as trusting.”
“He’s no threat to us,” Snowfall muttered, while Sunburst was dragged off, kicking and fighting while a magic restrictor was fixed to his horn.
“We’ll need that charm of his again, I suspect. And I happened to catch wind of some affections our dear Starlight has for him.”
“Must we stoop that low?” Snowfall asked.
“If it’s your blunder that gives them the head start, then I say yes.”
Snowfall sighed.
“If we went out there, a third of our troops would have been killed,” Snowfall said, “Either by the cold, or worse, Sunset Shimmer.”
“I knew it. This had nothing to do with strategy. Just weakness,” Redshift snarled.
“I’ve seen enough of our ponies die this week.”
“You’re a coward. And I’ll be sure to tell the Princess. We had them on the run and you let them go, just to save a few sorry spearponies!”
Snowfall was undeterred by Redshift’s threats, glancing over at the troops returning in through the gate.
“Starlight and her friends are doomed ponies. But our troops don’t have to be,” Snowfall said, turning to follow the messenger down the busy market streets, “We shouldn’t keep the Princess waiting.”
Within the military camp set up on the far edge of the city, Snowfall and Redshift were both brought to a great pool of bubbling magic that spewed and spat out a spinning portal showing off the face of their exhausted princess protector, Twilight Sparkle.
“Your highness,” Snowfall and Redshift said in unison, kneeling down before her.
“How have you fared?” Twilight asked, ignoring any pleasantries.
“We pursued them into the snows, your grace. The blizzard took them,” Snowfall said.
Twilight's eyes narrowed.
“I asked for them to be captured alive or dead. Not left up to interpretation.”
“Your highness, nopony could survive tha-”
“I want bodies, Lieutenant. Do you understand?”
“...Yes, of course, princess.”
Snowfall could feel Redshift’s smirk beat down on her from behind, and her face flushed red beneath Twilight’s rebuke. Redshift opened her mouth to speak, her grin still warmly stitched to her face.
“And you,” Twilight said, her eyes shifting towards Redshift, catching the serpentine-eyed unicorn by surprise, “I could think of no worse shortcoming for you to survive than to have yourself be captured by a measly band of convicts.”
“Your highness, we-” Redshift attempted, desperately trying to save face.
“I’m not interested in your excuse, Lieutenant. Clearly you are not fit for this role. I’m going to have you-”
“Princess, forgive me," Snowfall interjected, "but…Lieutenant Redshift’s capture was planned, a part of the deal we made with Sunburst. She ensured he would cooperate and hand over the location."
Redshift had her head lowered in defeat, until Snowfall’s interruption came to her rescue.
Twilight eyed Snowfall, sniffing out any hint of deception. But Snowfall did not falter, she held her position firm as the mountain snows.
“...Very well. Act now while they’re still within reach. I expect results from here on.”
“Yes, your highness,” Snowfall replied, bowing her head.
The portal collapsed on itself, splashing into the magical pool below.
Snowfall took a deep breath, having struggled to keep herself composed.
“Why did you do that?” Redshift asked, still in a state of shock.
Snowfall glanced at her, spiteful.
“None of what you said was true,” Redshift said, confused.
“I may not care for your recklessness, that doesn’t mean I want you as an enemy.”
Snowfall trotted past Redshift, who was still frozen in place, watching on as Snowfall disappeared into a crowd of soldiers.
Cadance jolted awake when the carriage came to a sudden halt.
She had no idea how long it had been, since her carriage had departed from the Changeling Kingdom. Glancing out the window, she saw they were parked on a cliff face, overlooking the sea. A gorey storm was swirling over the waters in the distant, and the sounds of crashing waves on sharpened rocks echoed far and wide.
“Delia?” Cadance yelled to her driver, “Oz?” and to her guard.
“They’ve taken an indefinite leave of absence, your highness.”
Cadance spun around, to find a hunched gray earth pony with receding grayish brown hair, whose eyes were peering in through the cabin window. He wore a black coat over his suit and tie, and he had a menacing scowl plastered onto his wrinkled face.
“May I come in?” he asked, though he did no wait around for her reply.
He swung open the door and climbed inside.
Cadance glared at him. He was too well-dressed to be some road robber, nor some marauder from the hill clans.
“Who are you?” Cadance demanded, her horn beginning to glow a rageful turquoise.
“My name is Alias. We’re Erased.”
Cadance recalled the name, and what Twilight had said of them; and she remembered only that they were dangerous.
The carriage was back in motion, to Cadance’s shock.
“Who’s driving?”
“He’s with me," Alias said,"We’re taking a detour.”
“This is madness. Am I being ponynapped?”
“A cynical way of thinking, but yes," Alias said.
“I could have you thrown in the Ice Dungeons. Hellhatch.”
“Do away with your threats, Princess. You’ve brought this upon yourself.”
Cadance did not understand.
Alias raised up the black notebook in his hoof.
Cadance frantically checked her satchel.
“How did you-Give that back!” she said, snatching it back. Her glare was merciless. “It was you! You were the ones that murdered him. Gore, you killed him, because he knew!”
Alias’ kindly smile faded.
“Who else have you shown it to?” Alias asked.
Cadance hesitated, though saw no reason to lie.
“Pharynx.”
“Yes, we know Pharynx. Anypony else?”
“No.”
Alias knew better than to believe her, though made no challenge.
“We hadn’t wanted this, but now we have no choice. You’re a part of this now," Alias said, "We can help each other put a stop to whatever Twilight is after.”
Cadance glared at him.
“Why should I help a murderer?”
Alias scoffed.
“You’re not obliged. You can go back home, pretend everything will turn out alright and there’s nothing to worry about…or you can come with me, and fix this before it really is too late. You know as well as I do now, how serious this is.”
Cadance wavered, glancing at Gore’s black notebook tucked back in her satchel.
“I won’t let any harm come to her,” Cadance said.
“Certainly not,” Alias replied.
Cadance nodded, albeit cautiously.
“You’re in deep now, Princess.”
There was no sound, no answer, no air to carry her screams. She was drowning in the seas, and above the waves she saw a pink pony, with a wavy purple mane, teal streaks, and Persian blue eyes, standing above her.
Starlight.
She cried, she screamed, but the deeper she sunk, the farther she was from rescue. She could not do it. She could not do it, she screamed, not to Starlight.
Not herself.
“Your highness.”
Twilight snapped out of her daydream delirium; she had almost forgotten she was late for another royal council meeting.
“Forgive me,” Twilight said, having just walked inside the council chamber, just a few chambers down from her royal throne in the Canterlot palace.
Its overlook of the city was better than her own; the sun had returned between the passing Northern storms, and the vapor had brought back some of the forgotten summer heat.
It was Featherglass who had greeted her; a frail stallion, near middle-age, though still bearing youth in his face. He had a tall build, a twisted nose and piercing eyes. From a glance, he could be called handsome, and his voice was rhythmic and calming on the ears. He wore a pale yellow coat and a greying, black mane with a pointed beard. Formerly an assistant to Posh Paramount, he had moved up in the world since she met her untimely demise, and now he carried her title and a seat on the council, as the Treasury Secretary.
Twilight took her seat down at the table. Beside her was an empty chair, which used to belong to Princess Luna.
As far as Twilight was aware, Luna was still safely stowed away in her mansion, indifferent to the matters at hand. One less alicorn to worry about. Of course, Twilight feared she was being careless, to have left Luna alive. She felt a similar way to Cadance. But they were her family, as far as she was concerned, and soon enough they would see things the right way, and come to terms with the truth.
She thought of Celestia. How would she fix this? It was Celestia who had put her in this mess to begin with, she reminded herself. Left her in the weeds to dig herself out. Only, she was fighting to survive, all by herself.
Wedge Ward, the stubbly Captain of the Guard, was seated to her right, and Marius Moonshine, the bloated, bald-headed pig-faced Director of the Royal Intelligence Agency, sat in the successive seat, and beside him was Dr. Bone Marrow, the Royal Physician. The Royal Justiciar's seat, belonging to Lady Lavender, lay empty. As was the Defense Secretary's, belonging to Commander Archangel.
“Have you sent Colonel Splinter’s Regiment to the western shore settlements?” Twilight asked Wedge, taking her seat.
“I did, your grace,” he replied, “Though, er,” he cleared his throat. “I’ve been meaning to say, as much as I am grateful for the seat, my duties lie in the guard, I-”
“Your duties lie as they serve the interest of the realm,” Twilight interrupted, “General Archangel is serving as an envoy to the dragons, and you will have his responsibilities while he is away. You are capable enough to serve in his stead, are you not?”
“Of course, your grace. Forgive me,” Wedge said, falling back in his chair.
“I do wish our friend Archangel the best, though I fear this is a doomed errand," Featherglass said, "The dragons have been consistent with their threats. We received another letter today. They demand we take action of some sort."
"Our envoys will bring them to the table, at least, and we may proceed from there," Twilight dismissed, “All measures have been taken."
“As necessary,” Moonshine said, “Yet your recent orders to mobilize our armies have frightened the nation. They fear a war is brewing.”
“They’re right to be afraid. These are frightening times,” Twilight said.
“I took the liberty of ordering Captain Radiance to the southern border with the Velvet Regiment. To keep everything in order,” Wedge announced.
Twilight took a moment to process what he had said, and had trouble containing her rage.
“...You did this without my permission?” Twilight asked.
“In the interest of the realm, your grace,” Wedge smirked.
“And in this grand deception, you send Periwinkle Radiance? She’s little else but a trophy academy student touted around to boost enlistment. Not a competent strategist by any means.”
“The Velvet Regiment has never lost a battle.”
“How many battles have they fought again? I’ve forgotten.”
“....One.”
“One. Against a band of rebel Yak lords not large enough to raid a pantry.” Twilight said.
“No concern at all, then? The rabid army of dragons plotting vengeance?” Featherglass said.
“My intent was not to poke the bear. Open war with the dragons was avoidable. Now that you've sent a regiment to the border, I'm not so sure.”
“I had proposed a union. With the other kingdoms. Solidarity against the dragons would do well to keep them in check,” Moonshine posited.
“A marriage, you mean?” Twilight asked.
“Something concrete to bind the kingdoms together. The dragons know they could never defeat every army Equestria has at its disposal.”
"The dragons are driven by wrath, not reason," Bone Marrow said.
"Any attempt at deterrence is better than none," Marius countered, "Or are we so eager to have open war?"
“You act as though the other kingdoms are pleased enough with us to even agree to a marriage,” Featherglass said, “The Changeling King has just banished out ambassador from the Hive.”
“The Hippogriffs could be a start,” Wedge said.
The others all glared at him. Wedge was known for his prowess in combat, not politics.
“The queen has already married,” Featherglass pointed out, dryly, “As is her niece Skystar, the next in line once she’s of age.”
“Not the queen. Her daughter. The princess,” Wedge said.
“Silver Stream,” Twilight recalled, “She was a student of mine. Graduated now.”
“And where do we stand with the Hippogriffs?” Featherglass asked.
“Ocean Flow will accept the offer without much thought. She trusts us,” Twilight confirmed.
“Her sister was wiser, and didn’t.” Featherglass said.
“We ought to keep her in the capital to begin. To ensure the Hippogriffs remain loyal to the crown,” Bone Marrow said.
“I will not have this girl as a hostage,” Twilight said.
“She would be safer here than anywhere else,” Featherglass said.
“On the contrary, there’s nowhere more dangerous she could stay,” Moonshine said.
“Send for her. But specify she will be under my protection. No harm will come to her,” Twilight said.
Marius Moonshine nodded and rose from his seat, bowed to Twilight, and trotted off to draft the summons.
“Your grace. About this matter up north, with your pupil. I think we ought to-” Wedge attempted.
“I’m handling it,” Twilight said, flatly, and she too rose from her seat.
“Worry about the affairs of the nation. I will worry about my pupil,” Twilight muttered.
She stormed off, without the faintest farewell.
Today is the day.
Whirling white wind blew back and forth, birthing cascades of mountainous heaps of powdery death.
Six soldiers had rushed out into the madness to catch Starlight and her exhausted companions, and six soldiers could be found as frozen corpses lying in the icy waste. They had all collapsed from the cold, lost to the blizzard’s undying indifference.
But Starlight was alive, as far as she knew. She was half buried in snow, climbing forward with all the strength she had left in her. They were two miles in, she believed.
She had expected Sunburst’s treacherous charm to wear off by now, and perhaps it had, but the cold had frozen over her horn, and she could not concentrate much at all.
“Starlight!” cried a voice from some distance.
Starlight had no idea whose it belonged to, turning around to march through the path in the snow she had just carved.
“Here!” cried the voice again.
It was Suri, half-buried in snow, pointing frantically at a blue hoof partly exposed above the frozen wasteland.
Starlight panicked, and helped Suri to dig out poor Trixie.
“Trixie!” Starlight yelled, shaking Trixie free of the snow, rattling her enough to bring her back to a semi-conscious state.
“We’re going to freeze to death,” Suri muttered, terrified.
“Keep her warm, I’ll be back,” Starlight said.
“Your leg!” Suri exclaimed.
Starlight knew it looked worse than it felt; her leg was torn open to the bare muscle, and the cold was doing her no favors. She ignored it, she was too furious to be slowed down.
“There!” came Sunset’s voice from farther up ahead.
Starlight climbed over a steep mound of snow to make out the blurred silhouette of Sunset, who was desperately pointing her hoof at something in the distance.
She searched, and searched, and searched some more through the white hell, until she saw it:a faded golden light bundled in blistering billows of snow, no more than another mile ahead.
Starlight returned to Suri and Trixie, and waved to Lightning and Wallflower who were farther behind. Today was not the day after all, she thought.
Sunset was the first to break free of the dense mounds of snow, toppling over into the powdery ground beset before the golden light she had spotted, the oil lamp hung on the doorpost of some homely stead.
And beyond it there were others, a village’s worth of warm homes, that sat beneath a great mountain. And beneath the black cliffs dark as night, reaching the snowy falls below, there were five proud pillars of solid ice, as hard as diamonds and as tall as the spires of Canterlot.
Sunset was overcome by the sight, and she did not notice when her five companions came stumbling over the edge of the snowbank, gasping for breath.
“The Icehearth,” Sunset realized.
“The who?” Lightning muttered, brushing herself off of snow.
“We can find a place to stay here,” Sunset said.
“If anypony sees us here, they’ll turn us in,” Trixie said, between her manic shivering.
“Better that than freezing to death out here. Come on,” Starlight said, helping the others back up to their hooves.
Lightning spun around to Wallflower, who was practically wheezing.
“Are you alright?!” Lightning asked, terrified, rushing towards Wallflower.
“I’m fine, I’m-oh,” Wallflower said, when Lightning reached into her curly locks to retrieve Scampers, who had been holding on for dear life the whole while.
While Lightning cradled poor Scampers like a foal, Starlight arrived beside her, limping along through the snow.
"Hey, thanks for the save," Starlight said.
Lightning glanced up at her.
"Don't mention it," Lightning said, "Sorry about your...y'know, friend."
Starlight glanced at the ground.
"Don't mention that either," Starlight muttered, before turning back to the others.
"Is everypony OK?" Starlight asked.
"Starlight, are you OK?" Wallflower asked, glancing at Starlight's leg.
Starlight waved off the injury.
"That doesn't look good," Suri said, and Starlight was surprised to hear concern in the seamstress' voice.
"I'll live," Starlight said, "C'mon, all of you."
Starlight led the group deeper into the village, which appeared to be mostly asleep.
A frozen Ponyville, Starlight thought; the two towns were similar in size.
“The Ice Ponies keep to themselves. The Crystal guard usually leaves them be,” Sunset said.
“Or better yet, forgets they exist,” Trixie said.
“This place might work for a while. But don’t let your guard down,” Starlight said.
Starlight picked the first tavern they came across to be their place of refuge. A small inn, the Crooked Stool.
They filed in, all six of them, like frozen ghosts in the dead of night.
Starlight expected all eyes to fall on them, but the twenty-odd patrons of the candlelit tavern seemed to hardly even hear the door swing open.
“How can I help you?” asked the stallion host, a stately fellow with blood red eyes.
“Table for six,” Starlight said, ringing out snow from her mane.
The host nodded, though was visibly upset by how a mess they appeared.
Starlight, Wallflower, and Lightning sat on one side of a wooden booth facing the others, all crammed in tight. Their waiter followed close behind.
"Anything to drink?" he asked.
“A coffee would be nice,” Trixie asked.
“Make it two,” Suri commanded.
“What have you got on tap?” Lightning asked.
“I’m afraid it’s too early to serve, miss,” the waiter replied.
“Too early?! The sun’s already set!” Lightning exclaimed.
A rowdy roar of laughter erupted from every local patron within earshot. Even the host had gotten a chuckle out of it.
“There is no sun in the Icehearth, miss. Only the black of the blizzard. It’s one in the afternoon. Village ordinance says no sale until six,” the waiter said flatly.
“Remind me to never move here,” Lightning muttered, “Three coffees it is.”
The host nodded and left them alone to warm themselves by the lit candle on the wooden booth table.
“The snows never stop up here. The village is frozen all year long,” Sunset explained.
“You’ve been here before?” Trixie asked, sticking her hooves over the candle.
“No. But I’ve heard of it. Miserably cold. Dark as hell. They weren’t kidding.”
“I’d rather not make this our permanent residence,” Suri said.
“I second that,” Lightning said.
“...I think we should split up,” Trixie announced.
“Split up?!” Wallflower exclaimed.
“Trixie,” Starlight said, disapprovingly.
“I mean we need to spread ourselves out. We can lay low better and cover more ground that way,” Trixie elaborated.
“Sure. And if one of us gets caught, they’ll squeal and tell where everypony else is.” Sunset said.
“If we’re smart, and avoid going on brazen murderous rampages,” Trixie said, eyeing Sunset, “We won’t have to worry about that. We’re not going to survive, or get to Twilight if we’re on the run all the time. We need to spread out, communicate with each other, and have a plan this time,” Trixie said.
“The magician is right,” Lightning said, slamming her hoof on the table with a grin, “I’ll be off to Cloudsdale.”
“Save it, flygirl," Sunset said, "We're keeping you on a tight leash. You'd sell us out the second you get."
“No she won’t,” Starlight said, and even Lightning was surprised to hear it. “See if you can get us help. Find out what you can."
Lightning hesitated, and straightened herself up in her seat.
"I will," Lightning said.
She nodded her head, softly.
“Starlight…You said we were in this together,” Wallflower said.
“We are,” Starlight assured, “But Trixie’s right. There's too much heat on us right now. We need to throw them off us somehow. We’ve gotten lucky. We’ve barely made it out each time they find us. And, I’d bet on it, Snowfall will find us again.”
Wallflower sighed, and fell back into the booth. She had nowhere to go, though she could not admit it.
“I still have accounts open in Manehattan. I could get us bits we might need,” Suri suggested.
Starlight nodded, she liked the prospect.
“Wallflower can’t go anywhere far with that bullet wound. It’s not healed,” Sunset said, glancing over at Wallflower, “I’ll stay here with her. We’ll keep an eye on that blonde bitch and her royal dogs, keep them occupied."
Starlight nodded, and for a moment Sunset had forgotten about those thoughts that had been tearing her apart as of late.
Was Glimmer’s approval what she wanted? Was that all? Who was left for her to prove herself to? She recalled Redshift, and her wicked words, and if there was ever a pony she wanted to tear apart limb from limb, it was that snake-eyed vulture. She had her chance to wipe that sinister smirk off her face, and now it was lost.
She was not sure whether to hate Starlight or thank her for not giving up on her; one thing she was sure of, they ought to be better off without each other.
Or worse, she feared.
“Trixie and I will head to Canterlot,” Starlight declared, "Once it's safe for all of you, we'll regroup there."
Trixie burst into laughter.
“Oh, you’re serious.”
“That’s where Twilight is," Starlight said, "So that’s where we need to be. We need to find out everything we can about what she's been up to."
“Just don’t go doing anything too crazy before the rest of us get there,” Sunset warned.
“We’ll all get back together once it’s safe. We’re only just getting started.” Starlight said.
The others seemed agreeable, to Starlight’s relief; even Sunset. Did she hate the pony, because she was what Starlight feared becoming? How sweet would her revenge be, but only if she was true to herself the whole while. But the lies, and the treachery, and the darkness that swelled in her mind from time to time; how could she stop it? Twilight had everything she needed to tear her apart, in her own mind. She knew it, and she was powerless against it. Only time would tell, she thought. Soon they would meet again. Soon Starlight would have her vengeance, for the slain innocent and her own cursed soul. She only wished Twilight knew what was coming for her.
The sunstruck plateau deep in the heart of the Badlands was a fiery first of rock and magma, coughing up smoke into the purple dusk. Mayor Mare wiped the sweat from her brow. She had come with an armed escort of thirty soldiers from the Velvet Regiment, in addition to the twenty changeling drones and eighteen hippogriffs sentinels, though she still felt little more than a hostage on trial. She found herself at the Torch, the great meeting place of the dragon tribes, where new emperors had been decided upon, centuries past.
Beside her was Commander Archangel, the Defense Secretary, Prince Terramar of the Hippogriffs, and Elytra, the princess of the changelings. They had been made to enter a coliseum-like structure, a stony structure that held all of the great dragon tribes. There was the Fire Drakes, the Black Horns, the Burned Ones, the Howlers, and the Stone Snakes. There was the Moon Brothers and the Little Amphipteres, the Groundwyrms and the Cannibal Kings. All of them greeted their guests with toothy snarls, slimy spit, and deafening roars. Mayor Mare put on a brave face, reminding herself of the ponies charged with her protection, of Twilight's assurance that she would be safe.
Equestria had not been enlightened to the dragons' activity as of late, making Mayor Mare and her companions the first to meet the newest elected Dragon Empress.
The Empress stood on a rocky throne that peered off of one end of the colosseum, watching as Mayor Mare and the envoys flooded into the pit. The dragons tribes' representatives all sat around them, sneering down with sharp-toothed scowls.
The Empress herself was a pale purple, with an off-white underbelly. She wore a crown of four white horns, two by hear ears and two higher up, sprouting from the tops of her skull. Her eyes seemed to glow a deep red, ruby red, like endless bloody voids. She was called Cinder.
"Be welcome," she said. Mayor Mare had trouble obliging her.
"Your grace," began Archangel, "We come on behalf of Princess Twilight Sparkle. She wishes to congratulate you on your coronation, and extend a hoof of friendship, with the hope of restoring the union between our kingdoms, as was celebrated during the reign of your predecessor."
The dragons began to stir, incensed by the mention of Ember.
Cinder raised a claw, silencing the colosseum.
"Three kingdoms come to treat with me," she mused, "We have yet to lift a claw, and our new friends are already terrified."
The dragons grinned and snickered, while Archangel firmly held his ground.
"There is no cause for animosity between us," Archangel said, "...You've heard that Starlight Glimmer and Sunset Shimmer have been designated the likely culprits behind her grace's murder?"
"Yes, I've heard these rumors. And I do not care for them. Starlight Glimmer had no quarrel with our queen. Nor the other."
Archangel smiled, struggling to come up with a response.
"They did not act alone," Archangel said, "There were others involved with the murders, some of whom we have already apprehended."
Mayor Mare glanced at him. Why would he tell such a brazen lie? They had apprehended no one.
"Ms. Mayor? The letter?" Archangel muttered.
Mayor Mare cleared her throat, and reached for the scroll in her satchel. It still bore Twilight's seal.
"These are Twilight's words. She means this message as a gesture of friendship. She would be deeply grateful for your cooperation with the investigation," Mayor Mare announced, mustering up the courage to approach Cinder's throne, "I was instructed to deliver this to the empress herself."
Cinder raised an eyebrow.
Mayor Mare marched to the throne, and placed the letter in Cinder's claw.
Cinder ripped open the seal, and unraveled the letter.
Cinder scanned the letter, and glanced up at Mayor Mare, hesitantly.
"Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Friendship and Sovereign Protector of Equestria..." Cinder began, reading aloud "...informs her most honored Cinder, Queen of the Fire Drakes, Dragon Empress, that she who delivered this message is she who killed Ember."
A silence drew upon the crowd, and all eyes drifted down to Mayor Mare.
Cinder glanced up from the letter, staring right at the trembling Mayor Mare.
Twilight, she thought, What have you done?
But Mayor Mare could make no reply, not before the first of the dragons descended from the ranks, storming into the pit.
The paper had come late that day.
Consequently, Bon Bon’s morning routine was all but ruined.
Her mane was a mess, she had yet to eat, and she still could not find the source of that ear-splitting security alarm.
“Damn thing is always broken,” she muttered to herself, scouring all over the house for its source.
On a typical Tuesday, the paperboy’s delivery would land with a proud thud on her bedroom window; a more effective wake-up mechanism in comparison to her lackluster alarm clock two-decades old.
Lyra was even worse; she would refuse to get up even when awoken. Their bed was astoundingly soft, as a matter of fact.
But today was no typical Tuesday.
“Lyra? Lyra, what’s the passcode for the securi-” Bon Bon yawned, sauntering back to their bedroom, expecting to find her newlywed still wrapped in four separate blankets.
But Lyra was not there, to her shock.
She hardly recognized Twilight, who was a whole foot taller than the last time they had a proper meeting. But she did recognize Lyra, held down to the ground beneath a pillar of purple magic.
“...Twilight?” Bon Bon managed, rubbing her eyes three times over.
“Bon Bon,” Twilight said, blankly, “How’s married life?”
“What are you doing?” Bon Bon yelled, glancing at Lyra, who was struggling with all her might to break free from Twilight’s restraint.
“Bonnie!” Lyra screeched.
“How did you get in here?!” Bon Bon yelled.
“You should calm down,” Twilight said, unphased, “I wanted to ask you a favor.”
“You’ve got a funny way of asking!” Bon Bon exclaimed.
“...I know you used to work for Alias and his motley crew of wannabe secret agents. But you’re no longer Erased, are you?”
Bon Bon was frozen.
How could she know? She supposed the Princess of Equestria of all ponies would be the one to know, though still, the accusation took her by surprise.
“...Not since the dissolution,” Bon Bon said.
“Right. But you have connections, still. Resources.”
“You want my help? For Celestia’s sake, Twilight, you could have just asked me,” Bon Bon said, “If you need my help, of course I’d be willing to-”
“I think I’m finished trusting in the ponies I thought were my friends,” Twilight said, “You’re going to do this for me. Or else there will be consequences,” she pushed down harder on Lyra, who squealed beneath the pressure of Twilight’s magic.
“OK! OK! Just stop, please!” Bon Bon yelled.
Twilight loosened her grip, accompanied by a smile of satisfaction.
“My soldiers have had trouble following instructions. So now you're going to help pick up the slack. You’re going to find Starlight Glimmer for me, and execute her. And her friends, if possible. You will not speak a word of this to Alias or any other blackcoat, for that matter. This is between you, me, and your darling wife,” Twilight said.
“This is sick,” Bon Bon said, horrified, “You wouldn’t. Twilight!”
“You have no idea what I would do. Do this for me, and no harm will come to her. Refuse, and it’ll have been a short marriage.”
Bon Bon sighed in frustration, and nodded her head begrudgingly.
“Good.”
In a flash of purple light, Twilight and Lyra were both gone, leaving Bon Bon in a state of disarray.
She was on the verge of bursting into tears, unsure where to even start.
But she had her task, she knew what had to be done should she ever see Lyra again.
Trouble in electric blue, lucid curtains and a heavy crown sorely stained by its crystal glow; Twilight Sparkle lay atop her bed of disheveled sheets and turned to the shadows of her moonlit bedchamber.
A shadow with the face of Starlight Glimmer made itself known many a time, and it kept Twilight restless; she had not slept for days.
She recalled being told there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for a friend. What then was she, she wondered, who meant to stab her own friend in the back.
She had ordered the death of her own pupil. The pony she willingly took in, sheltered, and raised in the teachings she herself was raised on. She committed this treachery, and without even the bare courtesy of performing the grave task herself.
Coward.
She wanted to scream, she wanted to tear those voices right out of her head. But they would not leave her.
Something had to be done.
Dawn broke, and Twilight was already clad in her flowing regal gown of pure velvet silk. She came to the throne room with Spike, hovering at her side.
“We won’t be gone too long, will we?” Spike wondered.
“I hope not,” Twilight replied.
The doors swung open, and inside her sunstruck throne she found only one pony, waiting idly by as he had been instructed to.
“Captain,” Twilight said, motioning for Spike to wait by the door.
“Your grace,” answered Wedge Ward, whose burnt brown mane fell around his horn, whose stubbly face was heavy with exhaustion. He loathed morning shifts.
"Terrible news about Mayor Mare, your grace," Wedge said, after a prolonged yawn.
Twilight glanced at the floor.
"She may yet live," Twilight said, "...The dragons' wrath will be satiated for now. But Cinder will not be content until I give her Starlight and Sunset."
"Snowfall will get it done, I know she will," Wedge said.
Twilight sighed. Wedge had overseen Snowfall's career since her first day at boot camp. He had a soft spot for her, though Twilight was less sympathetic for the lieutenant's lack of progress. Or perhaps she was just too impatient.
"I hope you're right. I'll be sure to send her your regards, once I arrive at the Crystal Empire.” Twilight said.
“You're going yourself?" Wedge asked, "Is that wise?"
“Starlight Glimmer and her little band of inmates have evaded Snowfall twice now, and each time a collection of corpses is left in their wake. This has gotten out of hoof. I need to put a stop to it, myself.”
Wedge nodded, understandingly.
“And you will be the interim Lord Protector while I am away.”
Wedge swore he had not heard her clearly.
"Your grace, I-" he began.
“I won't be long," Twilight interrupted, "Don’t burn the city down while I’m away."
“Your grace…” Wedge began, “I am grateful for the offer, truly, but I hardly think I’m fit for such a role. I ought to be in the streets with the city guard.”
Twilight glared at him.
“It’s not an offer. It’s a command. Nopony more qualified is at my disposal. I’m putting my trust in you, Captain. Do not disappoint me.”
"I understand."
"I don't need you to understand. Just to obey," Twilight said.
Wedge knew better than to press his protests any further.
“Of course, your grace. Safe travels.”
Twilight nodded and spun back to rejoin Spike by the doors.
She marched out of her throne, head held high.
She would have to do this herself.
“Do you think we'll ever see them again?"
Wallflower had been sitting on the windowside chair of their Icehearth hotel room since they arrived. She wasn’t particularly hungry, and it was simply too cold to fall asleep.
Sunset, meanwhile, had taken the bedsheets of both beds, wrapped herself up, and was very much on the verge of getting some much needed rest.
“I'm trying to sleep.” Sunset muttered.
“Lightning shouldn't be flying, she's still hurt!" Wallflower exclaimed, "And Starlight and Trixie, they're going to get themselves in trouble with Twilight, I just know it! We should've gone with them..."
Sunset grumbled to herself under the covers.
“...Maybe they’ll live. Maybe they won’t. We probably won’t ever know,” Sunset said.
Wallflower glared at Sunset, who had her back turned towards her.
“...Why did you stay for me?” Wallflower asked.
Sunset twisted and turned beneath the covers of her bed, still facing the wall.
“You didn’t have to. You could have made one of the others take me. Or you could have waited until they were gone and left me in a ditch somewhere. But you didn’t.”
"The ditch is still an option," Sunset muttered.
“I heard what that red pony said to you," Wallflower said, "She wanted you to turn Starlight in.”
Sunset’s breathing quickened. What else had she heard?
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Wallflower said.
Sunset was holding her breath.
“...I know what it’s like to think everyone and everything is against you,” Wallflower said, "To be angry all the time. To want to take it out on everypony."
Sunset said nothing, glaring at the ground.
Wallflower’s instinct was to shut her mouth, though for some odd reason she found she could not.
“Nopony ever asked me why I was locked up," Wallflower said.
Sunset tried to recall, though found Wallflower may have been right.
“...I was never like you or Starlight. I was never off saving Equestria, or battling monsters with magic spells. My father was in the royal guard. I lost him when I was little, before I had even learned to speak. My mother left me in Hollow Shades, alone. I never saw her again. I lived in a foster home, and took up work as a gardener when I was old enough, and that was how I spent most of my time,” Wallflower recalled, and she was swept away with sentimental regret, “But I wasn’t happy. Not really. I was jealous. Jealous of everypony around me. They all got to have a family. They all got to have friends. It all seemed to come so easy to everypony else. I was trying to figure out what it was about me that made such a....such a loser. My foster parents kept me out of sight, always. I didn't talk a lot when I was small, I'd get lost all the time, and ponies would forget to even look for me. They thought I was simple. They were embarrassed of me. So they tucked me away upstairs when the guests came. The other kids could play outside, but not me. They didn't want me corrupting the other kids, they'd say. The older I got, the more sick of everything I became. I got sick of being invisible, of having nopony to talk to, nothing to do with myself, nowhere to go.”
Wallflower was red in the face, and Sunset could feel the contempt in her voice.
“Then one day, I found the stone. It was buried right next to my patagonias. And when I held it, I felt different. I stopped worrying, I wasn’t afraid. So I kept it, I had it with me all the time. And then I found out what it did. Erase ponies’ memories. Irreversibly,” Wallflower said, as if she was still in awe of its power, “I was meant to find it. That's what I thought. So I tried it out. First on my foster parents. It was small stuff, first, like their anniversary, birthdays, extended family members. They'd get into fights about it all, and I'd watch them get more and more sick of each other. Then I used it on the other foster kids, and the ponies who were supposed to be my friends, and I stopped holding back. The worst part of it was how happy it made me. That I got to watch the ponies who never gave me a second glance, all of them forget who they were. Forget each other. Forget their parents’ faces, forget their friends’ names.”
Sunset did not want to admit she was disturbed, keeping her back turned to Wallflower, who had tears swelling up in her eyes.
“They caught me, eventually. They were able to reverse the stone's effects, but that wouldn't save me. They told me what I did was such a horrible crime, that I was to serve fifty years in Hellhatch as punishment. And I deserved it, I thought. Unlike all of you, I actually deserved to be there. I tried to ruin ponies' lives, forever. All because I was angry.”
“Everypony does things they regret,” Sunset said, flatly, "Don't beat yourself up about it, they fixed it."
Wallflower kept her eyes locked on Sunset, who would not give her the same courtesy.
“All I ever did was blame everypony else for my problems, for never giving me a chance. But I never gave myself a chance. It was me who barely spoke to anypony, who barely made any effort to really get to know anypony. I did it all to myself. I've always been afraid. All that stupid stone did was give me the confidence to make the worst mistake I've ever made. I thought I would die in that prison. And I was ready to do just that. I thought I had finished my story for good. But Starlight changed my mind. Maybe even the worst of the worst can still do some good."
Sunset finally rose from beneath her blanket, narrowing her eyes at Wallflower.
“You got a second chance," Sunset agreed, "Not everypony does."
"What did they get you for anyway? How bad could it be?"
Sunset sighed, and may have meant to answer, until something out the window caught Sunset's eye.
Her horn burst into a flaming fist of blue magic, and, in a flash of light, a pony came dropping out into the hotel room. Wallflower shrieked in surprise.
“Somepony wants to eavesdrop on us, it looks,” Sunset said.
Sunset jumped out of bed, her horn glowing, her eyes burning bright.
“Easy,” said the eavesdropper, a stout earth pony with a gray coat and a brown mane. His hooves were raised up, defenseless.
Sunset glanced at Wallflower, and dimmed her horn.
“Who are you?” Sunset demanded.
“I’ve come a long way to find you. Sunset Shimmer. Wallflower Blush,” the pony answered.
While Wallflower’s mouth hung agape in shock, Sunset noticed something move in the pony’s eyes. A bluish-green swirl, a twitch almost. Sunset suddenly let out a snicker, amused.
“You must think yourself very clever.”
“What?” the pony asked, baffled.
“I know a changeling when I see one.”
There was silence, before the pony too broke down into laughter.
“They weren’t kidding about you.”
The pony was thrown into a twirling mess of green fire, and left in the smoke was a greenish-yellow changeling, with reddish horns and deep purple eyes.
“A changeling!” Wallflower said, shocked.
“If the Northerners find out there’s a changeling running around, they’ll have your head on a spike,” Sunset said.
“You don’t need to tell me twice,” the changeling replied, rising to his hooves.
“I didn’t mean to be caught spying on you…I only wanted to be sure it was really you.”
“Somehow I have a hard time believing that.”
“I’m Callidus. We’ve never met.”
“Cut to the chase, before I make you wish you stayed underground," Sunset warned.
“...All over Equestria, you and your friends are all anyone talks about. Some even believe that you’re the ones who murdered those poor fellows in Ponyville. My own King among them.”
“That would have been hard for us to do, both of us were locked up in Hellhatch when it happened,” Wallflower said.
“Make no mistake. I’m not here because I think you’re guilty. On the contrary, I want to help,” Callidus grinned.
“Thanks, but we really don’t need any help,” Sunset said, flatly.
Callidus snickered.
“...You’ve been freezing to death up north for months. The world’s changed since you last saw it. You’re going to need help," he said.
“From a changeling? The Northerners won’t have to know who we are to try and kill us, when they see us running around with you," Sunset said.
“Not everyone has as sharp an eye as you," Callidus pointed out, "Especially the Northerners. Dull beasts, they are.”
“What do you want from us?” Wallflower asked.
“Why is it that I must want something?"
Sunset and Wallflower glanced at each other, unconvinced.
Callidus had a feeling that would not be enough.
“The Crystal Princess visited my home a few days ago. I watched her climb the steps to the Great Spire, I listened to her speak with the King’s brother, that cantankerous creature, him.”
“And?” Sunset said.
“She seems to be convinced that Twilight Sparkle is the true culprit behind the king’s death.”
“Huh, Starlight will be glad to know she’s not alone after all,” Sunset said, mildly relieved.
“I want vengeance. My king lies dead in the Catacomb Crypts because of her. That witch, that tyrant, that murderer,” Callidus said, and he was practically seething.
Sunset was hesitant, nonetheless.
“...Wallflower and I are lying low for now, anyway. Starlight’s left south,” Sunset said.
“It was trouble enough finding you. The report was that you were lost in the blizzard. But there was a small chance you made it here. You’re as lucky as they say.”
“If we were lucky, we wouldn’t be in this mess," Sunset remarked.
“So, what do you say? Let me fight beside you.”
Sunset glanced at Wallflower. She was apprehensive, perhaps out of habit. But it was better to be pragmatic.
“We need all the help we can get.”
Silhouettes in pink and blue came stretching along the shadowy corners of backalley jaws and sharp cobblestone streets.
“They’re going to see us,” Trixie muttered.
Starlight continued farther ahead, keeping her head down and her horn at the ready.
They arrived at Canterlot that night, having held onto the roof of the southbound train for miles and miles into the night. It had been a relaxing ride, Trixie recalled, when they weren’t sliding backwards towards their doom.
Both were wearing obnoxiously eccentric sunglasses. Starlight had conjured a thick brimmed hat to hide her curls under, and a thick purple long coat to hide the rest of her.
Trixie was wrapped in a black shawl, and was stuffed in a tan trenchcoat tied taut with a belt around her waist.
"Deputy," Trixie said, putting on a deep voice, "These perps have crossed another line. Add a charge of criminally stunning."
"Shut up," Starlight laughed, shaking her head.
They continued down the city block, successfully dodging the eyes of passing pedestrians. They seemed to blend right in. Starlight had anticipated as much. Equestria thought they were still in the north; they would never be suspected roaming these streets.
“It's long past time you told where we're going,” Trixie muttered.
Starlight ignored her. Trixie raised an eyebrow. Nopony ignores the Great and Powerful Trixie.
“Starlight,” Trixie snapped, jerkily grabbing Starlight’s hoof, reeling her to a halt.
Starlight nearly tripped; Trixie was stronger than she looked.
“Take it easy! What’s gotten into you?” Starlight whispered.
Trixie pulled her into a nearby alley, passerbys trotting carelessly past them, oblivious that the two most wanted ponies in Equestria were but a hair away.
“What’s gotten into me? We're supposed to be partners!” Trixie exclaimed.
"We are!" Starlight said, softly.
"Then tell me what your plan is! We can't just wander the streets until somepony finally recognizes us," Trixie said.
"I have a plan," Starlight declared.
"Really?" Trixie asked, skeptical, "A fully-realized plan?"
"A partially-realized plan with considerable prospects!" Starlight said.
"I say you turn yourself invisible, sneak into the palace and put one right between that pampered, arrogant little bitch's eyes," Trixie insisted.
"Twilight would see me coming from a mile away," Starlight remarked, "I need to know more about what she's doing, before we can confront her. And I know exactly where to start."
“Where? Why can’t you just tell me?”
Starlight smirked and turned back towards the street.
“Because you’re really not gonna like it.”
Trixie did not recognize the lustrous storefront Starlight was dragging her towards.
Until it was too late.
Canterlot Carousel
“Oh no,” Trixie muttered, “Starlight, this is a bad idea.”
“We’ll be hiding in plain sight," Starlight pointed out, "And Rarity might be willing to help us."
"Some help she'd be. Of all Twilight's friends. You're the only one with any brains. Have I ever told you that?" Trixie asked.
"Almost daily," Starlight said. "If she's not friendly...Well, it's good to keep your enemies close, y'know."
“Whoever said that must not have a lot of enemies," Trixie retorted.
They neared the front doors of the boutique, and Starlight made sure that the lights were off.
“Still closed. Luck’s on our side after all,” Starlight said.
Her horn sparkled blue, and the both of them disappeared not a second later.
In a flash of light, they found themselves inside the boutique, beside its proud marble columns and rows of artisan seamstry.
“We'll be safe here,” Starlight assured.
“Yeah. Until Rarity shows up. She’ll turn us in without a second thought," Trixie said.
Starlight meant to reply, until a pair of voices came chattering from outside the door.
“She’s here!” Trixie whispered, frantically.
Starlight’s heart sank, and her horn glowed once again.
Rarity gently opened the door to her beloved Canterlot boutique after fiddling with the keys in the lock, and beside her was Sassy Saddles, yapping away.
Rarity was exhausted, and perhaps she was seeing things, but the faint shimmering specks of magic were still gliding to the ground when she entered the store. She nervously glanced around the boutique, though nothing appeared to be out of place.
She shrugged it off and proceeded inside.
From the second story, Starlight and Trixie were hidden behind a rack of pink petticoats, watching on from behind the railing bars as Rarity and her companion made herself at home.
“I saw she'd left some messages. I was out all last night looking for the new rose-essence fabric, from that salesgirl we met at the market. What was the matter?”
“Her consultant's disappeared. She thinks he’s gotten into some trouble.”
“Goodness,” Rarity said, "What kind of trouble?"
“It’s a mess in Manehattan, that's for sure. She said something about some threats she was receiving.”
Rarity spun around from restocking her fabric supply, perturbed.
“Threats? What kind of threats?”
“Serious threats. I think it’s best if you handle this. I’ll be alright here. She trusts you.”
Rarity turned back to her bin of rolled fabrics.
“I’m not one to muddle in nefarious business…But I’ll go. She’s my friend.”
Sassy Saddles nodded, approvingly.
“I’ve got to head back. My daughter’s forgotten her lunch again.”
“Second time this week?”
“Third,” Sassy Saddles laughed, “Let me know what’s happening, when you can.”
“I will. Be safe.”
Sassy Saddles ran back out the doors to the boutique, leaving Rarity alone in the dark.
Rarity sighed and continued restocking the supply.
She had not seen her friends in weeks, nor her own parents. Not even Twilight, who had once promised to stay in close touch with her from right down the road in her palace, had cared to visit her.
She had done it to herself, she knew, and she could not assign the blame to anyone else. Still, she wondered if she had made a mistake, leaving Ponyville behind.
“Hey Rarity. Long time no see.”
Rarity froze in her tracks. She knew that voice.
“Starlight?” Rarity whispered, petrified. Starlight was right behind her; she could feel her breath on her neck.
“And Trixie,” Trixie added, joining Starlight.
“And Trixie!” Rarity repeated. She felt like fainting.
“Rarity...? It's alright, everything's alright. Take it easy," Starlight said, raising a hoof gently.
Rarity had trouble believing that. Still, she loosened her guard, and slowly turned around. She gasped at the sight.
“Good heavens! The two of you look like you've come through a warzone!” Rarity exclaimed.
“It’s good to see you, Rarity. How are you?” Starlight asked, weakly.
Rarity was thrown for a loop.
“Trying to be better, I suppose. But you! You’ve been gone for months! Have you heard what they’ve accused you of! Tell me it’s all lies!”
“Yes, none of it's true," Starlight said, "We didn’t murder anypony. But we did see what happened."
“You did? Is that why you disappeared? What’s happened?” Rarity demanded. She had no idea who to trust.
Trixie expected Starlight to indulge Rarity with a detailed explanation, though Starlight saw no point in trying. She knew Rarity better.
"Rarity, have you been in contact with Twilight at all, these past months?" Starlight asked.
"Rarely, I'm afraid," Rarity answered. She seemed glad to confess her frustration, "She's cooped up in her tower, day and night, and it's been weeks without a visit."
"The times you saw her, has she been acting odd? What are ponies saying?" Starlight asked.
"Odd, yes, I suppose. Though these are odd times, it's true. I can't very well blame her, she must be under so much pressure, having to catch this phantom killer, and keep all these creatures happy," Rarity said, "Of course there's still foul gossip. But much of it lately has been sent the way of our own Mayor Mare. A dreadful thing, truly."
Starlight and Trixie shared a look.
"She's alive?" Starlight asked, unsure.
"Apparently she was played a role in the murders. Madness! I refused to believe any of it, until the photos came in the gazette. She's a prisoner of the dragons now," Rarity said.
Starlight shook her head in disbelief. Twilight's trust in Mayor Mare must have been less concrete than the mayor had thought. Starlight hated to think she took delight in the thought of Mayor Mare rotting in a dragon dungeon.
"...Twilight will be able to tell you much more about everything than I can," Rarity said, "Whatever you saw, she’ll need to know. She must miss you terribly. We should all go together, I think, and visit her.”
“No,” Starlight said, suddenly.
Rarity could hear the front doors lock with a click, courtesy of Starlight’s magic.
Starlight looked into her eyes, and Rarity suddenly came to a grave realization.
"No....No, you-.....Starlight, this is madness! You mean to say-....That's unthinkable! It's absurd! Whatever you thought you saw, you were mistaken! I won't be a part of this," Rarity said, backing up towards the door.
Starlight made the first move, her horn igniting blue. Rarity attempted to defend herself from whatever was coming, but it was too late.
Rarity crumpled to the ground, out cold.
"Sorry," Starlight said, softly, while grinding her teeth in regret.
Trixie was out of breath, while Starlight quickly moved to drag Rarity away from the windows.
“You really think she’ll help us?” Trixie asked, “After this?”
“I don’t know. But we’ll be safe here for a while. She might come around,” Starlight proposed, while heaving Rarity up the winding stairs to the second story of the boutique, "And as long as we have her, Twilight will have to play by our rules."
“Starlight," Trixie warned, "You can’t defeat Twilight by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself, am I?” Starlight grinned, glancing at Trixie.
Trixie gulped. She had come to blows with Twilight more than once.
And it was never pretty.
Blondie felt the sweat drip down his neck, as the black sack over his head suddenly came free.
He squinted against the light, though the subdued cackling of a particular yellow unicorn made it clear who was sitting across from him. He was tied down to a stool, facing the desk Crozer sat behind. A lamp hung low from the ceiling, swinging with each puff of the drafty basement breeze.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”
Crozer huffed at his cigar, surrounded by twenty or thirty of his Black Hoof goons in a cramped hotel basement room.
"Sorry about the lack of ceremony. I hadn't planned on you and your rat friend blowing down my workplace," Crozer croaked. His voice was more rasped than the last time Blondie had encountered him, likely as a result of smoke inhalation.
"Now don't get tongue tied too soon, Blondie, I'm not angry. Really, I'm not," he laughed, glancing around the room. A door behind the crowd of ponies swung open, and in came two more stallions, dragging Rainbow Dash between them.
"Blondie," Rainbow managed, struggling against her captors.
"Relax, no one's laid a hoof on your Wonderbolt bitch," Crozer said, waiting for the stallions to dump her in another chair beside Blondie.
"It took guts to do what you did. That or, you really are as thick as I thought. Doesn't matter much to me. You just wanted to get out, I understand. But our friend Salt, he's a different story," Crozer said, "He stole from me, Blondie. He stole my briefcase. He stole half of my crew. That, I cannot forgive."
"I don't know where he's gone," Blondie said.
"Don't worry about it, because I do," Crozer said, before glancing at Rainbow Dash, "Where'd you find this broad?"
"Leave her out of this."
"A Wonderbolt is a lucky find, is all. She know who you are? Or, who you were, rather?"
Blondie kept his mouth shut, while Rainbow glanced at him, confused.
"No, didn't think so," Crozer smiled, "I looked you up, Blondie, and I know what you're capable of. So let me ask you, what is it you want most?"
Blondie hesitated.
"She goes free," Blondie said, gesturing towards Rainbow Dash, "And you're gonna stop coming after me."
Crozer's grin grew, and he twirled his hoof over the tabletop.
"Ponies like you and I, Blondie, we never really get out. But I can get you close. I just need one last favor, one last job."
"You really have gotten desperate," Blondie said.
"This bidding war with the Underground over that case...I see now I may have misplaced my priorities. None of this is worth losing anymore of my ponies' lives," Crozer said, "Your lives, however, those will do."
"What are you after? You've already lost. Salt's got the case. You've lost all your leverage," Blondie said.
"Old Salt's not wasting any time settling his bid. He's meeting with Trench and the rest of those Underground bastards, tonight. He's giving them the case, that double-crossing shit, in exchange for a smaller cut of the sale."
"Who are they selling it to?" Rainbow asked.
"Doesn't matter," Crozer said, "Because the trade isn't going to happen. You two are gonna crash their little party, take back that case, and Brandy, too, while you're at it. You're to bring them back here, intact."
"And what if we say no?" came Blondie.
Crozer's eyes shifted over to Rainbow Dash.
"Rainbow Dash the Wonderbolt, close friend of...what were their names? Ah, yes. Pinkie Pie...Fluttershy...Good Celestia, why not add every one of her teammates to that list, too. That's a lot of ponies to lose."
"You wouldn't!" Rainbow roared, horrified.
"I guess I am getting desperate," Crozer admitted, laughing to himself, "If I'm losing the war, then so are the two of you."
"What about Brandy?" Blondie asked.
"Trench will kill her without a second thought. But if you do this for me, I'll make sure she goes free. I'll even throw in a small cut of the profits we make, if we get that far."
Crozer's eyes darted between them.
"Have we got a deal?"
Blondie sighed, and glanced back at Rainbow, who had already made up her mind.
"Deal."
Starlit silence carried her to the city of clouds, to the place she once called home.
Lightning Dust’s barely-healed wings had narrowly managed to keep her in the air for the flight south from the Icehearth to Cloudsdale. She finished her non-stop, day-long journey a sweaty mess, crashing into a crowd of garbage cans. Exhaustion swept her away, and she fell asleep right there, lying face down in filth, half-buried in black trash bags, filled to the brim with odorous waste.
She was home, she kept telling herself. She was home, though oddly enough, she felt not a bit safer than when she was freezing to death in the Frozen North.
She crawled out of the filth and tried her best to clean herself off.
She kept out of sight, terrified of being recognized and thrown into a prison cell again. As much as she hated to admit it, she wished she had Starlight or Sunset nearby. She missed them. No, she thought, snap out of it. They're not my friends. You don't need friends.
She had returned home, she had left them all behind. This was what she wanted, she thought. She didn’t belong with Starlight and Sunset on their quest of revenge. She belonged in Cloudsdale.
Scampers the rat tailed behind her everywhere she went, darting from one alleyway to the next while the morning rush to work calmed itself.
She found her own apartment, a dilapidated, rusty hovel that appeared to be due for demolition.
She climbed the steps, and dragged her hooves up to her door on the second floor.
Evicted, read the slip taped to her door.
She read it over four more times, before angrily ripping it off her door, crumpling it to pieces, and throwing it to the ground.
She stormed through the door with ease; the lock had long been broken. She recalled four separate break-ins; on the last two nothing was stolen, since she had so little of value to spare.
Her home appeared more or less the same as when she had left it.
There was her kitchen, where the fridge was still empty and her pantry barren, save for some rotten fruit she once stole from a marketpony’s crate.
“Sorry about that,” she muttered, regretfully. She hated to think she was a thief.
She scoured her home for any discarded bottles that may have yet had some drops of liquor left over. But it had all long dried up.
She sighed, disgusted with the state of her home, and more so in herself.
Scampers was busy exploring underneath her bed, an air mattress set up in the left corner away from the window.
She recalled having to perform illicit favors for her foul, ravenous landlord on that bed, and her entire body shuddered, humiliation swelled through her.
Her wallet had been stolen, as had her telephone.
Then she saw the photographs of her as a foal she had framed and hung up on the wall, cracked and ruined, and fallen to the ground. She saw her parents behind her. There was still love in their eyes, in those photographs. But now those memories were lost to the dust.
Horrified, she wanted to burst into tears, or scream or surrender or throw herself from her window. Or all at once.
But she could only collapse to the ground, stricken by anguish, face-to-face with what the world had given her.
How did it come to this, she wondered. Was she ever so wicked that she deserved to be living in squalor, to be despised and spat on, to be cast aside and forgotten.
She dragged herself to the shower, which could only cough up ice-cold water.
She did not own much clothing, though she knew she would need something to cover herself, something to make her less recognizable.
She threw on her bright pink leather jacket that she had only worn once, along with a solid black hoofball hat her father had once given her.
The hat was one of a few rare gifts given to her by her father, not counting the especially rare smile or nod of approval. She wondered what they thought of her now.
Convict. Traitor. Murderer. All it took was her falling short of her dreams for them to cast her out from their lives; now there was truly no going back.
Lightning slipped into her jacket, picked up Scampers, and stormed towards the door, wiping away dried tears and turning her back on her freezing-cold apartment. He fit surprisingly well in her jacket pocket, gnawing at the zipper.
She may have not had many friends, though she was not completely alone.
She found his house, a quiet suburban residence tucked away in the wealthier corners of the city.
She was smiling again, though weakly.
Until, she heard some mare’s cries and ecstatic moans spilling out from the front door.
Lightning’s eyes flashed red in shock, and she threw open the door, which luckily enough was unlocked.
Thunderlane was there, fallen over his leather couch, and there was Misty Fly, his Wonderbolt squadmate, half on top of him, resting her head on his shoulder. They were both a mess, and the furniture of the living room was in utter disarray.
Thunderlane raised his head to see who had arrived, and then froze, horrified.
“Lightning?!”he said, shoving Misty Fly off of him to the floor.
Lightning’s mouth was hanging open, she could not bring herself to speak.
“Hey, Lightning, hold on, ow, hold on! I can explain, give me a-, Lightning, wait,” he sputtered, trying to pick himself up from the couch, though his legs were trembling and he was covered in sweat.
Lightning spun around and shut the door, and immediately broke down into tears.
Scampers ran to her side, though Lightning could do little more than ball her eyes out.
She took flight and escaped, right as Thunderlane came stumbling out the door.
“Lightning! Wait!” she heard him say, behind on his own soiled welcome mat.
High Winds had just finished making her coffee that morning, when a weak knock on her front door took her surprise.
She had not been expecting visitors; she had sworn she had told everypony that she was sick with a cold.
She opened the door, and promptly dropped her coffee to the ground, shattering it into a hundred shards of porcelain.
“Dust?” she whispered, shocked.
Lightning wiped away whatever tears were left on her face.
“Hey, Windy, can I come in?”
High Winds practically leaped out of the way, ushering Lightning inside. She scanned outside her stoop to see if anypony was nearby, before shutting the door.
“Lightning, what the hell is going on? They’re talking about you on the news! They think you’re some kind of mass-murderer!”
Lightning fell atop High Wind’s living room chair, exhausted.
“Lightning. Seriously. The cops came here the other day. They know we’re friends, they thought I was helping you. They’ve probably got eyes on this house. You’re not safe here,” High Winds said, sporadically.
Lightning glanced at her with bloodshot eyes.
“Did you know about Thunderlane?”
High Winds was astounded.
That was what she wanted to talk about?
“....Uh, what about him?”
“Him and Misty,” Lightning said, spitefully.
High Winds gave a questionable look.
“...You mean him and Fleetfoot?”
Lightning groaned.
“My life is a joke,” Lightning muttered, burying her face in her hooves.
High Winds scoffed.
“He was always a jerk, I told you so,” High Winds said, leaning in for a warm embrace. Lightning did not want to pull away, too afraid to be lost on her own again, "Now would you please tell me what's going on?"
“Is Rainbow Dash in town?” Lightning asked.
“Crash? No. Not sure where she's been. Everything’s been crazy lately.”
“...I’m sorry I popped up here out of nowhere. I didn’t know where to go.”
“It’s OK, I’m just happy to see you’re not hurt or anything.”
Lightning shot her a look.
“Not hurt too bad, I meant.”
High Winds hesitated.
“Dust…I want to help, I really do, but…”
Lightning shifted her glance up at her friend. She knew what would come next.
High Winds sighed, settling on her decision.
“You can’t stay here.”
“Windy,” Lightning said, on the verge of tears once again, “Please.”
“They told me they were going to arrest me if they found out I helped you in any way! They'd send me to Tartarus, they'd have me tortured and executed! And you, it'd probably be worse! You won’t be safe hiding in my attic, and neither will I.”
Lightning was wound up in disbelief.
“I’m a Wonderbolt, Lightning," High Winds said, firmly, "Princess Twilight’s charged us with bringing you and your friends in if we spot you…”
Lightning rose to her hooves.
“You wouldn’t.”
High Winds bit her lip, and her eyes were darting back and forth, restlessly.
”I can’t betray them, Dust…”
“Windy. Please. I didn’t do any of the stuff they’re-”
“I know, I know…I wish I could help you, but I-I can’t.”
Lightning’s head fell back down, forlorn.
“I’ll give you five minutes, before I make the call.”
Lightning glanced at her one last time, with heartbroken, pleading eyes, though eventually understood that she had no choice.
“Don’t get caught,” High Winds said, as if she was already mourning a dead friend. “I’m sorry.”
Lightning made her way towards the door.
“I’m sorry too.”
Misty pillars and powdery tufts of vapor whispered into his ears, songs of forgotten faces and long lost memories. Above the clouds, above the madness and toil that reeked from the earth below, pegasi flocked along the busy billowing streets of Cloudsdale in every which way, over past the Rainbow Falls and the Great Mausoleum.
Kickstart was overcome by its glory; no such sight could astound a pegasus better than the city clouds.
He sat beside Scootaloo in the backseat of a yellow taxi, whose driver carried a thick accent and a thicker mustache.
“Whatever happened in your town really has everypony spooked, huh,” Kickstart muttered, glancing out the window; there was a staggering number of royal guards patrolling the streets.
“It’s like that everywhere,” Scootaloo said, while fiddling with her seatbelt, “I thought things were getting normal again. Then you showed up.”
Scootaloo’s fidgeting gradually grew to be a nuisance, and Kickstart could only take it to a point.
“Either buckle that or leave it be.”
Scootaloo glared at him.
“That’s it? Shouldn’t you be scolding me about seatbelt safety?”
“I’m not your babysitter.”
Scootaloo scoffed. She threw the buckle to the side and curled up, poutingly.
Not a second later, the cab came to a jolting halt, and Scootaloo found herself plummeting face-first into the front seat headrest.
Kickstart rolled his eyes.
“You don’t happen to know anypony in this city, do you?” Kickstart asked.
“Yeah!” Scootaloo replied, before her enthusiasm short-circuited. “I mean, well, sort of.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kickstart asked, bewildered.
“I mean, well, the Wonderbolts are here. We could-”
“The Wonderbolts! You’re friends with the Wonderbolts!” Kickstart said, incredulously.
“...Kind of. But if Rainbow Dash is there, I’m sure she’ll help you. She’s like, the nicest, coolest, awesomest pony in all Equestria - and my bestest best friend, like ever. She’s saved the world, like, a hundred thousand times.”
“OK, OK…Look, we’re gonna have to keep a low profile in the meantime, got it? There’s a lot of soldiers out there.”
“The soldiers are after you too?” Scootaloo wondered.
Kickstart had not heard her at first, while he scanned the streets passing by the window.
“Is there anypony who isn’t after you?”
“Blackcoats take the face of anypony they want. They have no identity, no names. They want to blend in with the crowd. They could be anypony. Even a royal guard.”
“...How do you know I’m not one of them?” Scootaloo smirked.
Kickstart glared at her.
“Central plaza,” the cab driver said, once the car came to a halt in a wide-open area of the city.
Kickstart glanced at Scootaloo, who promptly dropped all the bits she had into the driver’s tray. The driver, whose tag read Mr. Berger, gave them a bitter look; they were two bits short.
“Pull around here in an hour, and I'll pay double,” Kickstart said, though he hardly meant, darting out of the car, dragging Scootaloo behind him.
“You’re the one acting suspicious,” Scootaloo laughed.
Kickstart let go of her hoof and gave her a red-hot glare.
He found a bench by a bus stop, and Scootaloo had to jump up to sit beside him.
“So, how’s it feel?” Scootaloo asked.
“How’s what feel?”
“This place could be your home. You don’t have to keep running anymore.”
Kickstart shook his head.
“...I would imagine this place, when I was afraid, when the doctors would…” he began, wavering over unpleasant memories, “This was one of the only places I could remember. I would picture myself here, flying high up in the clouds. Under the warmth of the sun. That was my dream. Now here I am. And I don’t feel any of it.”
“...You’re in your head too much,” Scootaloo said, jumping back down off the bench, “This could be your home! This is better than a dream, this is real life!”
Kickstart’s eyes softened, and he almost wanted to smile.
That was, until he caught sight of two strange faces marching towards him through the crowd of pedestrians, hidden behind pairs of sunglasses, barreling forth at full speed.
Scootaloo noticed his change in expression, and spun around.
“Blackcoats,” Kickstart muttered. He sprang up to his hooves and pulled Scootaloo along with him, breaking into a sprint.
“We’ve got him, sir.”
Eight Ball grinned into the speaker of his radio. He had a wad of gum stuck in his mouth, seated alone in the communications room of the Erased’ subterranean Canterlot control center.
“Well done,” he replied, “Don’t let it escape.”
For weeks, he had been waiting for good news, waiting for something resembling a victory, when they only seemed to ever be a step behind.
In Cloudsdale, Bright Eyes tucked his radio into his belt.
Beneath a short mane of deep blue, he was a tall, broad-shouldered electric-blue pegasus, with grime in his stubble and hard lines that stained his face. He glanced at his companion, as they watched the red pegasus with the spiky mahogany hair and his filly accomplice make a break for it into the plaza. He gave a subtle nod, and then took off after them; they were right where he wanted.
Cadance kept pace with Alias, who moved remarkably quick, given his age.
“How is it Celestia never spoke to me of your operations?” Cadance asked, boarding an elevator headed deep below the earth.
They had entered Canterlot covertly under cover of darkness, entering the Erased’s headquarters early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. Its streetside front was a bakery, and, to all agents’ delight, the bread was out of this world.
“Celestia kept many things to herself. Often at risk to the whole nation. You may call it withdrawn, I call it arrogant.”
“Is that anyway to speak of a princess?”
“She’s not quite the saint you think she is. She had first assembled us specifically to do her dirty work, the kind of things Equestria was better off not hearing about.”
“I had heard rumors of you. Monster hunters.”
“Monsters big and small. The Senate wanted us dissolved after that Bugbear came loose. Celestia still had use for us, of course.”
“Why trouble yourself with what Twilight’s done? Aren’t there some boogeyponies you need to be battling?” Cadance asked.
The elevator doors sprung open.
“Monsters can take the shape of ponies. More often than not, I’m afraid.”
Cadance followed him out from the elevator, entering the sunken bottom floor of the facility, the busy circle-shaped control room, with office rooms carved into its edges.
Alias led her to one room in particular, seating several agents working control panels, glaring up at a large screen shedding an image of a Cloudsdale street.
“Sir, #67’s been located. Cloudsdale. The Ponyville girl is now its companion" Eight Ball reported, catching Alias at the door.
"Subdue it, waste no time. The longer it roams outside of containment, the more unstable it becomes," Alias reminded.
"We're on it sir. And you'll be pleased, we've also just identified one of Glimmer's group, Lightning Dust, also in Cloudsdale.” Eight Ball reported, catching Alias at the door.
“Lightning Dust?” Alias asked, shocked, “Where were the others?”
“We haven’t spotted any of the targets in Cloudsdale except for the pegasus. She visited her old apartment, and two friends’ houses. We believe the group has split up, sir, gone their separate ways.”
“Keep eyes on her,” Alias said, gruffly, "And locate the other five. Some of them may very well be here in the city, and if that's the case I need to know."
“Sir,” Eight Ball said, stepping aside.
“Chief,” came Pink Mist, who had been waiting patiently for her moment with Alias.
“What now?”
“Lieutenant Bandolier, he says they’ve apprehended an assassin who made an attempt on Lady Lavender’s life, just days ago. We believe the assassin is another accomplice of Twilight's, much like Mayor Mare, sir. She will need to be questioned.”
“Look at that!" Alias smiled, proudly, "Let me know when Bandolier’s back this way. We need him.”
“Right away,” Pink Mist smiled.
“You’ve got your hooves full down here,” Cadance said, impressed.
Alias nodded, smiling like a proud father.
“The ponies in this room know everything about everyone,” he said.
“And Twilight? What do you know about her?” Cadance wondered.
Alias leaned against the railing that oversaw the control panel table filling the room.
“Little. Gore only got so far as to point his crusty talon at the correct culprit.”
“Pity. Maybe if you had let him live he would have been able to do what you can’t.”
Alias scoffed, and spun to face her.
“Your highness. Spare me. It’s your involvement I wanted to avoid. He’s gotten the last laugh alright, the bastard.”
“And what’s so dangerous about me?”
“You’re Twilight’s sister-in-law. You care about her. You won’t do anything that would put her in harm’s way. We both know it. Maybe the next creature she murders will be enough to convince you otherwise.”
“Violence is a disease. You don’t cure a disease by passing it on to others.”
Alias glared at her.
“More ponies are going to die before this is over. More ponies you care about. I don’t know what she’s after. Maybe nothing at all. But what I do know, is that a power of that scale, unchecked, unbridled, unhindered…It will be the death of us all. Gore was brash. He would have told every creature if he had been able to. We need to step lightly. We have no idea what we’re getting ourselves into.”
Cadance glanced back at the screen, and watched the shifting images of soldiers, civilians, faces young and old. Who else was at risk, she wondered. Who would be next on Twilight’s warpath?
"I had been meaning to ask you - Ember, and Thorax, Novo and Posh and all those creatures...When was the last time you had spoken with any of them?" Alias asked.
Cadance hesitated, having to think hard on the question.
"It must've been Rutherford. Just before the coronation."
"The coronation, of which you chose to skip. It's good you had, or you might have had the misfortune of making the guestlist."
"Don't make jokes like that," Cadance scolded, "Posh's circle had wanted me to come, in fact. Rutherford stopped by the palace on the way south, begging me to join him."
"What did he have to say? Anything strange?"
"Everything he says is strange. Exactly what, I'm not sure, it's been so long, it's hard to remember," Cadance admitted, "He talked about Posh, and Filibuster, how he wanted me to hear what they had to say. He said it over and over, he was excited. Like a kid in line for a rollercoaster."
"Hear what they had to say?" Alias repeated, intrigued.
"They're politicians. Of course they'd have something to say," Cadance said, flatly.
"A select group of creatures is brought together at a specific time and place, to be murdered. Posh and Filibuster among them. Maybe they weren't the only ones with something to say."
"You think Twilight wanted to keep them quiet?" Cadance asked.
"Twilight would have made sure to take out every single creature who knew whatever they knew. So we won't be finding out this secret anytime soon."
"What kind of secret could be so serious that it warrants murdering eight creatures?"
"Ah," Alias said, smiling, gracious for Cadance's question, "To answer that, we need to study Twilight better. What could take her to such lengths?"
Cadance shook her head, unsure how to answer such a question.
"I don't know how much of my Twilight is still in there, but...." Cadance said, her voice shaking slightly, "...It would have to be for Equestria's sake. She might have thought they were a threat. But what could they have wanted to do? They were our friends, they would never do anything to hurt any creature."
"How often does Twilight act on anything but concrete judgments?"
Cadance narrowed her eyes.
"It's been hard enough to accept what Twilight's turned into. Don't try to tell me that all those creatures really had it coming."
"I'm not saying that," Alias corrected, "But Twilight might have thought so."
"This is all baseless," Cadance said, "You can't prove anything!"
"No, I can't. Because the only creatures who could offer any real insight on the matter are dead."
"Celestia's been missing for months. We don't think she's another victim, though. Not even Twilight would be capable of that kind of treachery."
"How do you know that?" Cadance asked, disgusted with herself for questioning him.
Alias smiled, glancing back at her.
"You're still alive."
Aleheart had struggled to crawl out of the tent that morning.
The blizzard had subsided for now, and he could enjoy a breath of fresh air in the frozen wasteland of the far North. He stuck himself in his Crystal armor, and climbed out of the tent, yawning the whole way.
“There he is. We’ve got stew on the stove,” came Ferris, whose helmet was buried in the snow.
“It had better be an improvement over last night,” said Aleheart.
“Did you wake Sugar Rush? He said he fell ill last night,” Ferris said.
“Did I wake him? He was already gone,” Aleheart mumbled.
Ferris laughed.
“He was in your tent. And I took the last shift in the night. I saw him go in. I never saw him go out.”
“Then you’re a shit night watch,” Aleheart spat.
“By the grace of her majesty! If he’s not in there, then I’ve gone mad!”
“There was nopony in there. See for yourself,” Aleheart muttered, pouring himself a bowl of stew.
Ferris eagerly rose to his hooves and marched over to Aleheart’s tent.
He stuck his head inside, and, to his shock, there was nopony inside.
“Alright. I’ve gone mad. Feel free to-” Ferris began, sticking his head back out and turning around.
But Aleheart had been knocked face first into the snow, stars spinning about his head. And there was Sugar Rush, held down beneath the hoof of a mare dressed in a warm raspberry coat, with a large pair of black goggles stuck over her eyes and a black helmet strapped over her head. Her face was hidden by a black scarf, though tufts of her blue/pink mane still spilled out.
“Who the hell are you!?” Ferris said. He reached back for his knife, and Bon Bon's reply was to draw a knife of her own, lowering it against Sugar Rush’s neck.
“Don’t!” Sugar Rush squealed.
“Hey, take it easy, birdie,” Ferris said, raising his hooves up.
“You're Snowfall's ponies? Sent to find Starlight Glimmer?” Bon Bon asked.
Ferris was thrown for a loop.
“...Yes.”
“You’re to confirm if they’re where Snowfall thinks they are, is that right?”
“...Y-Yes.”
“And where’s that?”
“I’m not to be telli-”
Bon Bon again lowered the knife towards Sugar Rush.
“Icehearth! She thinks they’ve gone to the Icehearth!” he said, begrudgingly.
“The Icehearth,” Bon Bon repeated. She drew back her knife, and gently raised Sugar Rush back to his hooves.
Without a word, Bon Bon made her way back towards her snowmobile, hidden behind some nearby fern bushes.
Ferris and Sugar Rush watched as she drove off, a gust of wind blowing over the fire raging inside her. Twilight’s command was still ringing in her ears. Thoughts of losing Lyra forever made her sick to her stomach, but she still had a chance to save her. It was just a job, she thought.
And she always saw the job through.
It took a good few hours for Blondie to find the street Crozer had once spoken of, the alleged hideaway of Manehattan’s famed Underground.
While he had become familiar with the Black Hoof’s system during his time in their employ, the Underground still eluded him.
They lived up to their name, he thought.
But through sewer-stained soggy street puddles and over moss-crack-ran sidewalks, he and Rainbow Dash found the street sign he had been in search of, though its white print was faded and it was spun the wrong direction.
Halifax Way
Blondie looked both ways before crossing the street, spit up a glob of phlegm that was stuck in his throat, and walked along the shadowy edges of the rust-rode street. Rainbow trotted after him, ignoring her nerves.
"You alright?" Blondie asked.
"I shouldn't have come here," Rainbow muttered, "They're gonna murder my friends."
"Don't think about that," Blondie advised, "You're gonna get out of this. Now let's finish it."
Rainbow nodded her head, and shook off her doubts, following after him down the street.
On either side were apartments that appeared to be one loose brick away from collapsing into rubble. Empty clotheslines and snapped electrical wires ran from one side to the other, and there were more potholes than smooth pavement, as far as Blondie could tell.
He had been warned as a child not to run around this side of town.
Looks about right.
“Have you seen that new guy?”
Blondie’s ears perked up. Two stallions were taking a stroll on the opposite side of the street, heading in the same direction.
“Who, the big fella?” the other replied.
Now Blondie was interested.
Salt Shaker.
“He talks like he was raised in a castle. Puts me off.”
Now Blondie was sure.
“Boss wants to trade. He’s getting antsy about this whole thing. And that girl’s about spent, I think.”
“She was spent some weeks ago. I even pitied the thing after a while.”
“Boss don’t. He’s bored of her, is what I meant.”
The two stallions chuckled to one another, while Blondie’s nose flared in disgust.
Blondie and Rainbow crossed the street, while the two ponies remained oblivious.
He watched them round a corner into some alley, and, keeping his distance, he kept pace.
Blondie cautiously crept around the corner.
"Hey!" cried out one of the stallions, before Blondie could swing his hoof square into the stallion's teeth, spinning him around backwards. The stallion landed right on his face, out cold.
Rainbow flew straight into the other, slamming her hoof across his skull, sending him toppling down over his partner.
"W-Wait, don't," the stallion sputtered.
Blondie glanced at Rainbow, who allowed him to take over.
Blondie bent down beside him, grabbing him by the throat.
"Where're your friends?" Blondie demanded.
"I...Shit, I-"
Blondie's hoof swept against the stallion's face, hard, dislodging two molers and leaving a patchy purple bruise on his cheek.
"Where?" Blondie growled.
"312! The warehouse!" the pony managed, before Blondie dropped him to the ground.
Rainbow planted a kick to the stallion's head, knocking him unconscious.
"You ready?" Blondie asked.
Rainbow cracked her neck, and nodded her head.
"Let's do this."
Rarity awoke strapped to a stool, in the dressing room of her own Canterlot Boutique.
“You rotten fiends! How dare you!” she cried, to wherever Starlight and Trixie were in the spiraling spills of her shop.
“We can’t stay here forever. This is the first place somepony will come looking,” Trixie muttered.
They were right outside the dressing room, biting time and nervously glancing over at the storefront windows at regular intervals.
“Tomorrow, we’ll be gone. Wherever we go, we’re bringing her with us,” Starlight said.
Trixie stared at her, flatly.
“She can’t help us, Starlight,” Trixie insisted, right before Starlight turned to make her way into the dressing room.
Rarity, who was already in a fluster, flew into rage at the sight.
“Starlight. If you dare lay a hoof on me, I’ll make sure you never-”
“Rarity,” Starlight snapped, “We're not gonna hurt you. I mean it.”
“When Twilight finds out about this, you’re going to be in quite a heap of trouble, you know!”
Starlight sighed.
“Rarity…The times you got to speak with Twilight, what did you talk about?” Starlight asked.
Rarity had not expected to be subjected to an interrogation.
“...Rainbow Dash had wanted to go on a silly quest to Manehattan to catch the ponies responsible for what happened in Ponyville. Twilight tried to talk her out of it, but, well, you know Rainbow.”
“Did she talk about what happened? To Thorax, and everyone else?” Starlight asked.
“I was there with her at the funeral a few weeks ago. She gave the eulogy. I couldn’t stop crying for hours, it felt.”
Starlight's eyes widened; she had not known it was Twilight reading out the final send-off to her own victims.
“Are you quite finished? This is mad! Dare I say, criminal!” Rarity whined.
“We’re going to need to hide out here for a little while. I’m sure you won’t mind,” Starlight said.
“Oh please, make yourselves at home,” Rarity snarled, fidgeting in her restraints.
“Starlight,” Trixie said under her breath, as Starlight turned to leave, “This is a risk we don’t need to take. We can’t keep her with us.”
"If Twilight finds out she's seen us, she won't be safe. We have to protect her."
Rarity had not expected to hear Starlight come to her aid, though kept herself out of the confrontation.
Starlight stormed out from the dressing room, leaving Trixie with an indignant Rarity.
“Trixie, you don’t have to do this,” Rarity pleaded, “You could just let me go. I wouldn’t tell anypony. You know it won’t be pleasant, once Twilight catches you. I could convince her to be merciful. I could help you!”
Trixie scoffed and turned to leave, following after Starlight.
“Fine, run away,” Rarity spat, switching tactics, “Just like you’ve always done.”
Trixie stopped in the doorframe, glancing back at her captive. But she appeared distressed, and bitterly trotted out from the dressing room, shutting the door behind her.
Rarity was left alone in the dark, helpless and terrified of what Starlight had in store for her. For all she knew, Equestria’s most wanted had her completely at their mercy.
Toppling down mist-muddled steps and dodging the odd cloudy pillar, Kickstart and Scootaloo had no idea if they were still being followed. Kickstart counted two at first glance, though by now there had to be more closing in from all over the city. Blackcoats never knew when to quit.
“In here!” Scootaloo said, pulling Kickstart alongside her through the door of a stray clothing shop on one cluttered city street.
Kickstart was out of breath, and crouched down behind a pillar behind the storefront window, while Scootaloo glanced out at the street.
She saw five ponies in black coats sprint past the storefront, and she gave a sigh of relief.
“What do we do?” she asked, frantically.
“I don’t know,” Kickstart muttered.
There was no place left to run.
Lightning had taken to wander the streets of the city. She had considered bringing Rainbow Dash to Starlight; she knew her long-time rival must know something about Twilight’s alleged nefarious activities.
Like she'd ever help me.
She had once enjoyed the thrill, the competition between them, the lengths she had to push herself. But now those dreams seemed hollow, as though she had missed the point of the chase altogether, the point that Rainbow seemed to have never needed. Humiliation boiled inside her, at the mere thought to admitting any wrongs, or worse, asking Rainbow for help. But then again, Starlight needed help if she was ever to take down Twilight, and Rainbow Dash would certainly suffice.
A part of her wanted to prove herself to Starlight, and to the others.
They’re right about me, she thought. She might as well do it. She might as well march up to Twilight Sparkle and tell her where Starlight and everypony are. Maybe then she could have her reward. Maybe then she could have her dignity back.
She kept her head down as she went, hiding both her face and her tears from prying eyes. This was her home, yet it was wholly unfamiliar. There had to be something here that she needed. A second chance, she considered. But perhaps that second chance had already come, and perhaps she had decided to fly away from it for hopes that she had long lost.
I don’t belong here.
Her face was red, and her eyes heavy. She would never be the superstar she had once dreamed of becoming. She had her chance, and she ruined it. Now she was only aimless and alone, in her own home that felt nothing like home.
“There she is.”
Lightning froze.
She spun around, with wide eyes that were doused in fear.
“...The pegasus whore I’ve been told so much about,” said the royal guard standing in front of the fifteen-pony royal patrol stretching the span of the street behind her. Pedestrians flocked out of the way, terrified.
“Hawkbit,” the pegasus introduced. He had a handsome face, pale brown fur and a head of oak brown thin hairs, “Snowfall thought you might have tried tucking tail and running back home. And here I thought it would get boring down here.”
He took a step closer, and, almost in sync, Lightning took a step backwards.
“Poor thing. You look like you’ve been through a lot today. I don’t want this to be any trouble. Just take a breath. Nopony’s gonna hurt you.”
His words made Lightning long for some imagined peace to dawn down upon her. But she knew better than to trust anything that spilled out of his mouth.
“You don’t believe me. I get it. But we both know who Twilight really wants,” Hawkbit grinned, “Where’s Starlight Glimmer?”
Lightning could hardly feign any act of resilience or hard exterior; she felt like crumbling down to pieces, she wanted to give in, and give up; what did she have left?
But Lightning held her tongue, to Hawkbit’s frustration.
She could not do it, she realized. No matter how badly she wanted to, she could not do it.
“Nothing to say? That’s fine. I have a knack for getting poor little birds like you to sing. How about it? Let’s try it my way.”
Hawkbit gave a subtle nod with his head, and the patrol of guards all lowered their spears.
“I know that pony.”
Kickstart stood behind a stone pillar sitting behind the storefront window. The store was busy that morning, they had gone unnoticed thus far.
He stuck his head out from behind the pillar, peering through the window at the street. There he saw the blonde pegasus in the pink jacket, surrounded by a patrol of royal guards. Pedestrians were fleeing in every which way.
“Get back,” Kickstart muttered, pulling Scootaloo back with him behind the pillar.
“Blackcoats are still out there,” he said, keeping her still at his side. She wriggled free of his grip, eager to steal a glance outside again.
Kickstart glanced back around the pillar. The girl’s wings appeared to be damaged slightly, and her eyes were red and runny, she must have been crying.
“...Whoever she is, we could use her help. You stay here. I’ll go find our friend Mr. Berger.”
Scootaloo managed to hold him back, using all her force to keep him from leaving her side.
“What happened to staying out of sight!”
“She’s in trouble,” Kickstart said, defensively.
“You want the royal guards after you too? Like you don’t already have enough enemies?” Scootaloo demanded.
“You said I couldn’t beat the blackcoats alone.”
Scootaloo glared at him.
“She’s trouble.”
Kickstart grinned.
“I kept you around, didn’t I?”
Kickstart forced his way past her towards the back exit. Scootaloo sighed in frustration, and glanced back out from behind the pillar.
A chorus of shrieks gave way in the street, though Lightning did not budge.
She did not intend to go down without a fight.
The wall of guards began their march towards her, spears drawn and ready.
Lightning gritted her teeth, enraged.
But her chance never came, when a small hoof grabbed a hold of hers.
Lightning glanced down, and turned as pale white; it was Scootaloo, pulling her along inside a taxi car that had suddenly parked itself right beside her. There was another pony in the backseat, a stallion, bright red in color with spiky mahogany hair.
"Go on, get her!" Kickstart exclaimed.
Scootaloo dragged Lightning into the car, which promptly took off down the street, away from the patrol of guards.
“Don’t just stand there! After her!” Hawkbit barked, ballistically.
“Scootaloo?” Lightning asked, as if she had seen a ghost. The girl looked slightly older than when they had last seen each other. Scootaloo sat in the middle, glaring at Kickstart. She glanced back at the rear window, watching as the royal guards broke off after them down the street.
“This is a big mistake,” Scootaloo said, ignoring Lightning.
“They were going to kill her,” Kickstart pointed out.
“Can somepony tell me what’s going on?” Lightning asked.
“Mr. Berger, extra to go past the city limit,” Kickstart said.
“You shouldn’t have helped me. The whole city wants me dead,” Lightning said.
“'Thanks for the rescue,' would be nice,” Kickstart said.
“I didn’t need to be rescued,” Lightning snarled, insulted.
Kickstart had no mind to argue, glancing at the rearview mirror to catch sight of the patrol of pegasus guards still in pursuit.
“Berger, step on it.”
“I go speed limit,” Berger replied.
“At least try to lose them, they’re on top of us!”
“I go speed limit,” he growled.
Kickstart mumbled some curses under his breath.
“Scoots,” Lightning said, glancing down at Scootaloo.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Scootaloo…” Lightning said, though she was not sure what she wanted to say. Lightning knew that look in the girl’s eyes.. It was all she had known, for months, it felt. It sounded like a joke, in retrospect. She nearly killed that poor girl, all for the sake of proving a point. A point that, after years of desperation, had never amounted to anything. She was never going to be a star. She was never going to fly into stadiums, and be welcomed by thunderous cheers. She had brought it all upon herself, and there, sitting beside her, was the consequence of her actions.
“Look, uh, Scootaloo, thanks for the help. And I know you're just a kid, but, you've got guts, yeah, and..." Lightning said, while the car bumped up and down along the road, masking the shakiness in her voice, "I...I'm sorry for what I did to you."
Scootaloo was caught by surprise, loosening her bitter exterior. Was this some kind of joke?
Lightning lowered her head, sheepishly.
"You two can bury the hatchet later," Kickstart said, panicked, "Right now we need a place to lay low."
"Up north," Lightning said, after a deep breath, "I've got to get back to my friends."
She felt like smiling, enjoying a strange sense of relief.
Kickstart glanced down at a disgruntled Scootaloo.
“We need all the help we can get,” Kickstart said.
“Let me make it up to you. Let me help you,” Lightning said, facing Scootaloo with pleading eyes, “Give me this.”
Scootaloo wavered, and Kickstart held off from interrupting.
She sighed, and gave a slight nod of her head.
“Don’t let me down again,” Scootaloo said, cautiously.
Lightning smiled.
“I won’t.”
Sunset and Wallflower both kept their distance from their hotel room guest, the red-eyed changeling with the pearly grin.
Callidus had not come empty-hoofed; in his pack he had brought bushels of fruit to share with his new allies, though Sunset thought allies to be a loose term.
The mares were both starving, after days of strenuous activity and malnourishment. Callidus sat by and watched.
“If it’s not too bold to say, I don’t think it’s wise to stay up north,” Callidus said.
“We told the others we would stay here,” Sunset explained.
“You said Snowfall Glitter’s after you? She’s as much a Northerner as she is Twilight’s lapdog. She knows the land, she knows its ponies. It won’t take her long to realize you’re here.”
“She’ll find us no matter where we go. Why’re you so eager to see us south?” Sunset asked, suspiciously.
“The longer you and your friends elude Snowfall, the more likely Twilight’ll settle on hunting you all down herself. And whether it’s Snowfall or Twilight who finds you first, I hardly think the Icehearth is the best place to greet them.”
“Is there such a thing as a good place to greet them?” Wallflower wondered.
“I would suggest the Crystal Empire. Right under their noses. They think you’re frolicking about the Frozen Wastes, anyway,” Callidus said.
“You’re awfully insistent,” Sunset said.
“And persuasive, I’m told,” Callidus grinned.
“Suri and Lightning expect to find us here when they come back,” Wallflower said.
“If they come back,” Sunset corrected.
“I came to help you so we could take down Twilight together. Not to sit idly by while all of your enemies close in around you.”
“We’ve gotten on alright so far, haven’t we?” Sunset said, rising from her chair.
Broken glass from the shattering window came spraying through the room, falling around the object that had been thrown through it: a dark metal gray sphere, blinking and spinning madly.
“Shit!” Sunset exclaimed, tossing the table up towards the window, while casting a spell to contain the bomb.
But she was not quick enough, and her spell only partially absorbed the fiery blast that escaped from the blinking sphere. All three of them were thrown backwards, Sunset knocking her head on the corner edge of the nightdresser. She muttered something before slipping unconscious, blood spilling out from her scalp.
“Sunset!” Wallflower cried, rushing through the cloud of smoke.
Callidus’s horn ignited, lifting the table to block the broken window.
The door came rattling, and Callidus glanced at Wallflower, terrified.
“She’s out cold!” Wallflower said, uncertain who was after them this time.
The door flew open with a blast of smoking sparks.
A mare stepped through the cloud of smoke into the doorframe: she wore a raspberry jacket, obscured black goggles, and a solid black helmet.
She took a quick glance around the room. She did not recognize the changeling, nor the green earth pony, who she reasoned had to be the sixth accomplice, who nopony knew the name of. But she did recognize Sunset Shimmer, lying against the nightdresser with her eyes half-open.
She supposed they would do, drawing a knife from her belt.
“Get her outside,” Callidus said to Wallflower, blocking Bon Bon’s path.
Wallflower was way ahead of him, dragging Sunset’s limp body towards the boarded window. With all her might, she shoved the table out of the way, a gust of frozen night-dark air stealing the breath from her lips.
Bon Bon’s knife skimmed Wallflower’s curly locks, and grazed over Sunset’s shoulder, before it was stuck in the window frame.
Callidus, realizing their attacker required time to draw another weapon, rushed towards her, flipping on the mechanical magical enhancer stuck on his horn, and sending a beam of fire towards Bon Bon.
Bon Bon dodged the blast, and already had a second knife drawn in her hoof.
Callidus was relentless, however, sending her darting back and forth across the floor to avoid being eviscerated by his air-splitting beams of purple-red fire.
Wallflower managed to shove Sunset out into the snow, and climbed out herself. Inside, Callidus, who was mildly out of breath, spread his wings and turned to dart off outside.
Or he meant to, until Bon Bon’s knife came twisting through the air, puncturing his wing and stapling it to the wooden wall of the hotel room.
He grunted in pain as his wings tore at the bloody mark, as he was hanged up a few feet from the ground, squirming and writhing in agony. The cartilage in his wing was partially ripped, as his weight tore it from the seam.
Bon Bon marched right past him, ignoring his plight. Despite her nearly being killed at his hooves, he was not who she was here for.
Bon Bon climbed through the window out in the snow, and immediately spotted Wallflower and Sunset’s trail.
“Hey! Stop!” yelled two ponies rushing towards her, wearing thick coats with fleece trims and golden badges pinned to their chests.
Bon Bon waited until they were nearly on top of her, before sliding out of the way, tripping one over and decking the other up beneath his jaw. She railed the downed policepony over the back of his head, and kicked the other square in the chest.
Wallflower was right around the corner of the hotel building, desperately trying to resuscitate Sunset.
But Bon Bon was already there, staring down at Wallflower with merciless arctic blue eyes.
“Whatever Twilight promised, she’s not going to give you,” Wallflower said, aggressively.
Bon Bon hesitated. She had been dreading that possibility. Whoever she had thought Twilight was, she was a different pony now. She could no longer be predicted, and with Lyra’s life on the line, she had little choice but to comply.
“Where’s Starlight?” Bon Bon asked, coldly.
Wallflower glared at her.
Bon Bon sighed. She had hoped she would not have to take more than one life in the name of love, though she did not wish to leave Twilight disappointed.
Bon Bon drew yet another knife from her belt, though she never got the chance to use it, when a magical blast of purple fire ran right through her, throwing her into a mound of snow a quarter mile in the distance.
Callidus rounded the corner, his horn smoking from the tip.
“I’ve got a ride out of here. Time to go.”
“But-” Wallflower began.
“You’re going to have to trust me,” Callidus said, grabbing Wallflower by the hoof, “Come on.”
Carrying Sunset between them, Callidus and Wallflower trudged over to a snow-covered lot, where a host of snow sleds sat unattended. Wallflower glanced at the sign.
Sled Rentals.
“Isn’t this stealing?” Wallflower asked.
Callidus ignored her and unstrapped one of the sleds from the post.
The roar of an engine down the street sent both of them alert.
“Load her on. You too,” Callidus said, strapping the reins of the sled around his chest.
The engine’s screech grew louder, in sync with Wallflower’s fear doubling over and over.
“Hurry!” Wallflower yelled, holding Sunset’s unconscious body beside her on the sled.
Callidus spread his wings and made his leading sprint, struggling to gain traction in the slippery snow.
He took off, his wings flapping at an unrecognizable speed. Drops of blood sprayed onto the snow, as he ignored his open wound.
They made their course through the main gate of the town, barreling over uneven snowbanks and jutting rocks.
Wallflower glanced back behind them; there was Bon Bon, singed and covered in ash as a result of Callidus’ blast, piloting her jet black snowmobile. She was in hot pursuit, tumbling over the snow towards them.
“Must go faster,” Wallflower muttered, though Callidus could not hear her over the piercing winds.
Callidus was making good speed, all things considered, though Bon Bon was quickly gaining on them.
She had a trigger-activated pistol drawn now, capable of hurling magical pellets at cataclysmic speeds. Sunset Shimmer might be enough, she hoped, enough to quench Twilight’s bloodlust, at least.
She fired three shots, each one only narrowly missing Wallflower, who had to dart back and forth to avoid having her face caved in.
“Sunset,” Wallflower said, shaking the unicorn back and forth, “Sunset!”
Callidus was gritting his teeth, as the snow grew denser the farther they fled past the Icehearth into the Frozen Wastes.
“In the bag!” Callidus yelled, struggling to be heard over the wind, “Use it!”
Wallflower assumed he meant the bag he had brought with him. It did not only contain fruit, she discovered, when she found the barrel of a flare gun resting at the bottom of the bag.
“No, I can’t,” Wallflower said, shaking her head.
Callidus’ silence told her everything she needed to hear. This time, it was do or die. Sunset wasn’t there to save her skin, and neither was Starlight.
Wallflower drew the flare gun from the bag, and cocked it with a shaky hoof.
She raised it up, biting her lip, and aimed it straight at the helm of Bon Bon’s snowmobile.
Wallflower shut her eyes as tight as they could go, and squeezed the trigger.
The sound of metal parts bursting into the air in the ensuing explosion caught both Wallflower and Callidus by surprise.
Bon Bon’s snowmobile had flipped over forwards in flames, with Bon Bon herself being flung into a snowy heap. The ruinous wreck littered the snow, and the withering flames were snuffed out by the wind.
“Well done,” muttered Sunset, who had managed to catch Wallflower right before that fateful press of the trigger.
Wallflower was out of breath, though terribly relieved. They wouldn’t be done away. Not today, at least.
Bon Bon pulled herself free from the snow, and watched as the sled grew smaller the farther it slid towards the daylight.
She had lost.
Shadow sweltered about him, as Blondie crept behind a shipping crate twice his size. Rainbow Dash was close behind, listening in on the rupturing voices echoing throughout the warehouse.
The warehouse was stuffed at the edges with crates and boxes, stacked low and kept in the shadows.
"Here, hold on," Blondie whispered, coming to a halt to peer over the edge of the crates.
In the center of the warehouse, an open space had been carved out, where a crowd of ponies had gathered, divided into two halves.
Blondie narrowed his eyes, at the sight of Salt Shaker, whose hoof was wrapped around the briefcase, tightly as though he was welded to it.
"Trench?" Rainbow whispered, nodding towards a pony standing with the other half of the crowd.
He was dark grey in color, with jet black hair combed all the way back. In the dark of the warehouse, the cigarette in his mouth bobbed up and down in his mouth like a firefly.
The two crowds stirred, restlessly. Blondie was amazed that the two clusters hadn't broke down into an all-out brawl already, considering their histories. Blondie watched Trench take the cigarette out of his mouth, and crept closer against the crate to better hear. All of them were armed, and all wore heavy glares and hard faces.
"Pity about my old clients," he said, "But these new cats are paying triple. Rich freaks with a stake in the game down south."
"Ponyville was a happy accident," Salt Shaker replied.
Rainbow's ears perked up.
"Yes, it was," Trench laughed, amused, "Shame Crozer couldn't settle. I would have very much liked to put the past behind us."
"Tonight could be the start," Salt said.
Trench nodded, and glanced back at one of his cronies, signaling him with a flick of his hoof.
In no time at all, one of the Undergrounders produced a case, which was promptly opened by Trench himself, revealing a neatly stacked collection of bits.
"Only a fraction of what you'll get, when we've sold the damn thing," Trench said, "A show of good faith. Consider it a professional courtesy."
"We might as well see what's inside, while we're all here," Salt Shaker said, and for a moment Trench had to question the giant's intentions.
But he seemed to change his mind, with a sly grin and another flick of his hoof.
Blondie twitched, when he caught sight of Brandy being dragged out beside Trench. She was
She looked pale as death, her curls bouncing with every step, her cerulean dress torn and her legs trembling.
Blondie could not help but stare; there she was, the girl who had dragged him into this mess, the girl who compelled him still to fight, and fight to win. She was alive. Those eyes of deep blue kept him tethered.
"Now, the briefcase," Trench asked, extending his hoof, smirking the whole while.
Salt Shaker tilted his head, hesitant to part ways with the case so soon.
Trench's smile faded.
"You're new to this, I get it. But I'm not the stallion to be playing tricks with."
"You, me, and the girl, alone. That's how we'll open it. You've got forty ponies there to my twenty. I'd rather not indulge that prospect."
Trench snickered, glancing at the ponies behind him.
"You're an eloquent pony. I don't trust eloquent ponies."
"An eloquent pony is just as trustworthy as a fool."
"The only fool is the one who came less prepared."
In unison, the Underground troops raised their weapons, and, subsequently, the Black Hoof soldiers did the same.
“The arrangement still stands," Trench said, "I had hope you'd make a smarter gamble than Crozer might've. But if you think you can stand against us, we'll rip you all apart, root and stem.”
Salt Shaker’s gentle smile faded, and Trench became unnerved, the giant was showing a side had yet to show prior.
Salt Shaker raised his hoof up towards Trench, and squeezed the trigger of a magic-pellet firing pistol, inciting a firefight that lit up the room in red, blue, and green light.
Blondie glanced at Rainbow, and sprang out from behind the crate.
Rainbow flew straight for Brandy, who was busy screaming while bullets and magic blasts whizzed over her head.
"What the-" came one of the Undergrounders, before Rainbow had taken flight once again, carrying Brandy Bow along with her.
"They took her!" yelled one of the Undergrounders, who were fleeing for cover as bodies began to collect in heaps.
Blondie flew in towards Salt Shaker, slamming his hoof across the giant's face.
Salt Shaker was barely phased, and more so surprised to see Blondie alive.
“Get out of here, before they kill you,” Salt Shaker said.
“You left me for dead,” Blondie said, before glancing down at the briefcase in the giant's other hoof.
Salt Shaker laughed as Blondie dove in to swipe the case, enduring a punch to the neck that took the wind out of him for a moment.
“Now I’m leaving you alive. Go,” Salt Shaker spat, shoving Blondie out of the way before a stray axe could lodge itself in his skull.
Blondie took flight, springing towards Salt. He dodged a sloppy swing by the giant, who moved with remarkable speed for his size. He slammed his hoof into the giant's ribs, and punched up against his jaw, knocking him off balance.
He lost his chance at another strike, however, when a Black Hoof soldier came running towards him with a knife in hoof.
Blondie dodged the pony's blade and stuck him in the chest with his hoof, smacking him to the ground.
"Blondie!" cried out Rainbow, who was hiding behind a crate near the open warehouse doors, clinging to an unconscious Brandy.
"She went under!" Rainbow explained, to Blondie's relief, "Forget the case! Let's get out of here!"
The soldiers’ scramble shifted to the swinging of swords, axes, knives, and maces.
Blondie glanced back at Salt Shaker and the briefcase, ignoring the approaching pack of Underground ponies out for blood.
Salt eyed him a final time, before slipping away towards another exit with a handful of his compatriots.
"Blondie, c'mon!" Rainbow hollered, inching towards the doors.
Blondie at last gave in, darting back around to rejoin Rainbow.
He glanced down at Brandy, and was horrified to take a closer look at her assortment of grizzly wounds.
Out of breath, they rushed through the doors, and kept on running, past Halifax Way and back into Newtown.
Blondie collapsed in the shade of an alleyway, right by a dumpster, wheezing and inspecting the burnmarks on his coat.
“You really need to work on your cardio," Rainbow laughed, tugging on the back of his neck.
“That was close,” he said, collapsing back down against the alley wall, "And only half the boon."
“Better than nothing,” Rainbow said, seating herself on the wall opposite to him, "We've got to get her back to your boss, before he...."
Blondie eyed her, and took one last deep breath, before regaining his composure.
"Your friends will be fine, I promise," he said, "....I take it they wised up and quit town."
"Yeah," Rainbow nodded, "Thing about me is, I never wise up."
Blondie almost smiled, the first she had seen.
"I owe you," Blondie said, firmly, "So does she."
They both glanced at Brandy, whose mouth hung agape, having fainted during the madness.
"Let's deliver her, and see what we can do about the case," Rainbow said, "You're still with me, right?"
"Wouldn't be anywhere else," Blondie replied.
She smiled, rising to her hooves, pulling him up beside her.
The red dusk came cool and clear, and Bandolier could taste the changing winds stripping the trees barren. Over those wooded hills were the great Smoky Mountains, reared by the sun’s firelight, painting feathered sketches of oiled clouds. The blackbirds had flown down from their nests, and they flocked in pairs or triplets, blown back against the cool winds.
“A good omen,” Bandolier observed, waiting patiently on the white stone edge of the gate to Lady Lavender’s fair palace of velvet.
Amity Stiletto was beside him, though made no reply. She did not believe in such things.
“There they are,” she exclaimed, nudging Bandolier to turn to his back.
There was the palace envoy they were expecting, a frowning Flamberge among them.
Too there was Lady Lavender herself, and a host of her guards, and, of course, the prisoner assassin, still draped in her canary yellow dress. They came down the stone bridge leading over the lake, stained orange, pink, and purple by the setting sun. The bridge stretched back from the keep to the gate, where Bandolier and Amity had been waiting.
“Her name’s Clover,” Bandolier said, recalling their meeting.
“Was Lavender’s fancy not enough?” Amity wondered, scowling.
Bandolier glanced down at her, disconcerted.
“There’s no time for that,” he said, dismissively, “We had our orders. We’ve fulfilled them. Equestria can be at peace, finally. And I don’t plan on returning here.”
“You must want to settle down somewhere. Sometime," Amity asked, flying off into her own wistful fantasy.
“I only know a few Erased ponies who managed to live long enough to retire. Chief always said I wouldn’t be one of them.”
“He’s hard on you because he knows you’re fit to take over for him, someday. He wants the best for you," Amity said, and she was jealous of it, in fact.
Bandolier scoffed.
“All I ever wanted was to do my duty. But nothing I did could ever be enough for him. I ought to die sooner than later, for both our peace of mind.”
“Bandolier,” said Lavender, whose envoy had finally arrived.
“My lady,” Bandolier said, courteously bowing his head.
“I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said.
“The Bureau will want their hooves on our assassin. Equestria will have the justice it demands. And so will you,” Bandolier promised.
“I only fear there will be others who mean to harm me. Won’t you stay longer?” Lavender fretted.
“If there’s cause for alarm, we’ll be back, trust me. We need to make sure this pony is kept secure in Canterlot.”
“Couldn’t I come with you?”
Bandolier hesitated. That was what Alias had commanded to begin with.
To hell with him.
“It’s my own thinking you’ll be safer here than anywhere else, my lady. Especially Canterlot. Nowhere could be more dangerous.”
“I hope you’re right. I wish to see you again someday. Be safe.”
“You have my word.”
Bandolier nodded to Flamberge, who shoved a chained-up Clover along up ahead.
Lavender gave one last somber wave goodbye, before Bandolier, Amity, Flamberge, and their captive made for the untamed forests yet again. Their provisions were well-accounted for, and morale had never been higher. Nothing could slow him down now, Bandolier thought.
The quartet journeyed through the forests while the sun continued to set.
Daylight was waning.
“Chief wanted us to bring Lavender with us, back to Canterlot,” Amity pointed out.
“He did,” Bandolier replied, yanking on Clover’s chain leash. She had been silent as the grave the whole trek thus far, her dress crumpled and smudged with dirt and grime from her stay in Lavender’s dungeon.
"Contempt for authority, reckless lack of judgment, defying direct orders. Every day you find new ways to give me a headache," Flamberge grunted.
“I failed him once. What will he do to me when I fail him again?” Amity wondered.
“If he’ll have anyone’s head, I’ll make sure it’s mine, not yours. It was my decision,” Bandolier said, “He’ll probably be distracted, anyway. We’ve gotten a step closer to finding the Ponyville murderer.”
Flamberge glared at him.
“Who's this then?" he asked, skeptically.
“An accomplice of some kind. Our friend here told me she was working for somepony,” Bandolier explained.
“Sounds like a lie, to me,” Flamberge dismissed.
“You’re talking like I’m not right here,” Clover pointed out.
“I first assumed the same, that she’s a liar. But she had this with her,” Bandolier said, revealing Clover’s knife.
Flamberge glanced at it, and then held it in his hooves, like some priceless artifact.
“Dragonsteel,” he realized.
“Too fine a thing for a gutter-rat assassin. Whoever hired her, must have given her that.”
Flamberge glanced at him again, overcome by shock.
“The Dragons? If that’s true, they would have murdered their own empress,” Flamberge said.
“That, or, Ember very well could have been the murderer all along, only she died in the battle herself, leaving no survivors. That was a possibility from the start,” Bandolier said, "Or perhaps the killer gave her the knife to frame the dragons. Then again, Lavender herself implied the dragons may have been planning on stirring up some trouble."
Clover smirked her twisted little smile, catching the other three’s attention.
“Sure. Go on. Start a war with the dragons, I’m sure they’ll love to hear your little accusation,” Clover laughed.
Bandolier meant to retort, until a rustling in the brush caught all of them by surprise.
“None of you move!” bellowed a voice from behind the trees.
First came one, then two, then three and four and soon there was an entire platoon’s worth of royal guards storming out from the brush, surrounding the quartet in the middle of a room-sized clearing. The sky had darkened, though what light remained reflected off of the soldiers’ armors like spotlights.
“Flamberge,” Bandolier muttered, hoping his sultry companion had not betrayed him.
“They’re not mine,” Flamberge said, equally confused. Though, he did recognize the royal guard holding the front of the pack.
“Styles,” Flamberge said, and he was lost to the moment.
Styles wore two sets of warm brown leather faulds that rode along his hind legs, a shimmering bronze gorget above his runged cuirass. His pauldrons were of spotless bronze metal, and his vambraces were of thick brown leather. His belt was black, and it held the sheath to his sword, taut by the hip. His helmet was bronze, and had a larger crest than his companions, and its feathers were mahogany. The stallion himself was a unicorn, hard tan in color, and he was not nearly as large or broad as Flamberge. Styles was one of the Nine, the most elite warriors in Twilight's royal army.
Styles recognized the large pale-blue stallion with a head of fiery hair, though he could not say the same for the others.
“Lieutenant," Flamberge said.
"Black suits you, Flamberge," Styles smirked, eyeing Flamberge from bottom to top.
"You've missed the excitement already. Lady Lavender is still in her castle. She's safe,” Flamberge said.
“This one would’ve had her neck cut open,” Bandolier elaborated, nodding at Clover.
“We’re not here for Lady Lavender,” Styles said.
Flamberge’s cordial smile dropped. He took a quick glance at the soldiers. They were nervous. His eyes flickered back to Styles.
Styles, with an amused grin, glanced at the host of soldiers waiting idly by behind him.
Their spears were drawn with the subtlest of nods.
“Her highness sends her regards,” Styles said. His horn ignited, and he drew his sword in a flash of steel.
“What’s going on?” Amity muttered, taking a step closer to Bandolier.
“Run!” Bandolier yelled, moving Amity past him.
Bandolier glanced at Flamberge, though neither could produce an explanation.
Bandolier kept a hold of Clover’s leash, and followed after Flamberge, who was already making a rush towards the thinnest line of soldiers.
He smashed through one’s shield and decked the other across the jaw.
Clover screamed in pain, when a soldier’s crossbow bolt came flying straight through the feathers of her folded wing. Bandolier swung at the pony with the crossbow, and threw his own head into the face of another, knocking him off his hooves.
Amity Stiletto had her knives drawn, stepping precisely in delicate patterns, dodging the odd spear-poke or slash of sword.
Flamberge growled something hideous, when a soldier’s spear punctured up through his thigh. He dropped the dragonsteel knife to the dirt, reeling in pain as the blood came matting down his coat.
Flamberge reached over to grab his assailant by the head, and, in one swift motion, swung the poor stallion’s skull into a nearby tree, cracking it open like an egg.
Ignoring the bloody trail left on the bark, Flamberge continued rushing towards the woods, tackling over three more guards that stood in his way.
Amity had managed to slip through after him, but Bandolier found himself closed off.
Clover yanked on the chain leash, grabbing his attention.
“This way,” she said, frantically.
Bandolier had no intention to argue, darting after her while she leaped off towards the ridge’s edge.
“Are you out of your mi-!” Bandolier began, until the leash pulled him off after Clover, who had already flung herself over the ridge.
Styles marched to the edge of the ridge, watching as Bandolier and Clover fell against the rocky slope, tumbling down hard into the brush.
"Styles," came Venger, a thin earth-pony mane with a pale white coat and a wavy raven-dark mane.
Styles glanced at her, and saw the knife she had picked up from the ground.
Styles eyed her, and snatched the knife from her hooves. His hoof glided against the edge, and then stopped suddenly.
He laughed.
"Brilliant," Styles said, "Twilight will love this."
"Why would she arm her own cutthroat with a dragonsteel blade?" Venger asked.
Styles sighed, as if he expected her to have known better.
"Not Twilight. Somepony else," he said, "And I'm sure she'd have a grand time finding out who and why. Take this back to Canterlot. Leave the cutthroat to me."
Several soldiers were already in hot pursuit of Flamberge and Amity, the former of which was leaving a wet trail of blood in his wake.
Down below in the brush, Bandolier was dusting off his bruises; the rocky slope had torn up his coat and rattled his bones. His horn shedded some sparks, and for a moment he had thought he snapped it off during the fall.
“If you wanted to kill us both, there were faster ways,” he muttered, glancing up at Clover, whose canary yellow dress was torn.
“They’ll be down here soon enough. Untie me! I’ll slow you down if I’m tied up,” Clover whispered, despair echoing through her voice.
“Don’t bet on it. You’ll fly off,” he dismissed, glancing at her folded wings.
“I wouldn’t make it far,” Clover said, glancing at her bloodied wing, which stung like mad. She tried not to wince too much. She had always thought of herself to have a high tolerance for pain, though she was struggling to stay composed.
Bandolier glared at her.
The soldiers’ hoofsteps barreled down from nearby. Their armor screeched with every step, and their breathing was like that of a wild animal.
“They’re going to kill us. We need to help each other,” Clover said, staring into his eyes. She did not want to resort to begging.
Bandolier exhaled, bitterly. His horn glowed, and, in an instant, Clover felt the chains go slack around her hoofs.
Bandolier hesitated, expecting her to attempt to swing at his face and run off to freedom.
But she only rose to her hooves, and glanced backwards, for the both of them to escape.
Bandolier joined her, after igniting his horn one last time, and spraying a field of fire to cover their escape.
The soldiers, Styles up front, arrived at the wall of flames just in time to watch Bandolier and Clover disappear into the dark woods, evading certain death.
Styles glared at one of his sergeants.
“Send a message to Princess Twilight,” he muttered, “We may be here longer than expected.”
The princess’ voice was choked with anger. “I was wrong about you.”
Sunburst opened his eyes. His spine was ablaze, he could not feel anything from the neck down. Where was he, he wondered. Why could he hardly see?
He was bound in chains, drawn up in a tower, the iron rings clanging and crying with the slightest shudder.
There was smoke, or at least the scent told him so. Cold stone rested beneath his hooves. His cape had been torn to shreds, his beard beaded with sweat and ice. The hairs over his lip had frozen over, and his eyelids were too heavy to keep open for long.
Sunburst knew that voice. Twilight. “You were expecting a reward. Your reward is me not having you drawn and quartered and made a display on the white tower ramparts.”
Sunburst, fragilely, sputtered while writhing in his chains.
“You promised me sanctuary,” Sunburst wailed, “I did what you wanted.”
“You tried. And you failed.”
Sunburst, again, wrestled against the rusty chains. He noticed shimmering plates of armor waiting idly by in the shadows. There was no escape.
“Starlight Glimmer is still alive. Which means I cannot know for sure whether you'll have a change of heart once again. Perhaps you’ll run back to her, tell her how to evade us.”
“No, no, I wouldn’t. Please, I wouldn’t. Twilight! She’s dead! She’s dead. I saw her. The blizzard took her.”
Twilight scoffed.
“I can't trust a pony who switches allegiances with the smallest hint of threat. Rot here. Starve, if you must. And pray that I finish this once and for all. For my sake, and yours.”
Twilight stormed back into the shadows, leaving Sunburst hanging in a puddle of sweat and anguish. His chest was in agony, burdened by his own weight. He hung there, and watched as Twilight Sparkle vanished in the dark.
Neon-flooded glass snaked around each rain-ruined street, each sharp edge and nook, around crevices of packed dirt and pipes that leaked black grease.
Home sweet home.
Had it been so long, that she had forgotten which faded crosswalk led where? Which street signs were spun wrong, which alleys to avoid?
The last time Suri Polomare was breathing that rotten rancid air and dodging clouds of wispy cigarette smoke, she had been making a fruitless attempt to escape Manehattan as a free pony.
Embezzlement. Laundering. Fraud. It all seemed so trivial, now that she was wanted alongside alleged murderers and treasonous miscreants.
She belonged here, she thought. Pairs of eyes glowed in the dark, the buzzing bulbs and golden static of storefront signs tucking the darkness away in the shadowy places, places where few ponies dared to tread.
Canterlot may have been a pit of liars. But at least they had the courtesy of feigning a pristine cordiality, an artful gracefulness. Manehattan did not pretend. Here the liars worked in the filth, and the grime, and the smog, in the waste and ruin that they craved.
Strutting along in the crowd of pedestrians, Suri wondered if her companions would even be alive if she was to return to them.
They don’t need me.
And she did not need them. She had all she needed to race back to her hooves.
Suri found the bank she was looking for, open at later hours, with limited staff struggling to stay awake beneath the dim fluorescent.
“I’d like to make a withdrawal,” Suri said, as politely as possible.
That impudent brat Rarity may have humiliated her all those years ago, though Suri did manage to take something of value out of the whole debacle. She would need to be better prepared, if she was to survive her inevitable consequences.
Shortly prior to her arrest, she had created an account under a pseudonym, an old colleague of hers who moved away years ago.
“Haute Couture,” Suri told the teller. She had a pair of sunglasses on and a shawl to hide herself. She was on Equestria’s Most Wanted, whether she liked it or not.
She would mutter the PIN code to herself every night before she could fall asleep while at Hellhatch to remember. Counting down the days to her return.
All of her funds had been kept safe and sound in the account, and she had little trouble walking out of the bank with a handsome few thousand bits stuffed in a suitcase.
She still had debts to pay off, first and foremost. before she could bother sparing anything for Starlight’s crusade against the Princess. However, as much as she wanted to believe her former cellmate’s honorable intentions, that fight was ever much beyond her.
Midnight fog glowed high up in the air, hiding the starlit sky.
Suri made for her old studio, the site of her career-defining achievements, both genuine and fraudulent.
She entered the building, and was relieved to not recognize the lobby secretary. Her old coworkers would turn her in without a second chance, she thought. This would have to be quick.
Third floor. Sixth door on the left.
The door was locked, though Suri knew the keypad passcode.
Or she thought she did, until the keypad blinked red.
Coco.
That sneering assistant of hers had changed the locks.
She knew a way inside still, given the right pressure and the careful fidgeting of the handle. This wasn’t the first time she had been locked out.
The door gave out eventually. Suri stumbled inside, and for a moment she thought she had entered the wrong room.
The studio was all out of sorts; her old keepsakes had vanished, the furniture and machinery reorganized or replaced. No memory of her had survived.
Her shoulders were slumped, and she had nowhere to go. She was in mourning, it felt. She was dead. Dead to the world she had once been on top of.
“I thought you’d show up.”
Suri blinked back to reality, and turned her head to the pony leaning in the doorway. The white light of the hallway flooded the pitch-dark studio, and she could not make out who it was who had called out to her.
“Boss,” Coco Pommel said, trotting towards her in the darkness.
Suri glanced around for something to defend herself with, but it was far too dark to see.
She could hardly make her out, though she recognized the voice. Thin and frail, she had wished never to hear that voice again.
“It’s late to be lurking around, don’t you think?” Suri said.
“Not when it’s my office. I’m surprised you came back. No telling how long it will be until they catch you.”
“They?” Suri repeated.
Coco shrugged.
“Police. Royals. The Underground,” she said.
Suri shuddered. She raised the suitcase up for her to see.
“My next stop.”
“Your last stop. They’ve been waiting for you to come back. You and your friends seem to have caught their eye.”
Suri raised an eyebrow. Coco was less timid than she had once known. Authority had that effect, she supposed.
“The Underground will be in for disappointment, then. I’m not sticking around,” Suri announced, “I’m giving them what I owe. And leaving. 'kay?”
“They don’t play as fair as they used to,” Coco said.
“New bunch?”
“New management,” Coco corrected, "And he doesn't take kindly to swindlers."
“I’ve gone on long enough leaving them empty-hoofed. If all they want is to use me, they should get used to waiting.”
Suri shoved past her and made for the door.
“You’re washed out,” she said.
She stopped right in the doorway, half a hoof on the hallway carpet.
“You ran our business into the ground. You’re a hack, and everypony knows it. Nopony will hire you again. You’ll never get a chance to restart clean.”
Suri turned her head back towards him, red hot.
“Not unless you accept some help,” Coco said.
“Help from ponies who’ll use me and cast me aside the second it’s convenient? If they want the bits so bad, they can come and take it. 'kay? My friends would love to zap whatever halfwit thugs the Underground’s got.”
“They may not love it as much as you think.”
Suri scowled and stormed off into the blinding white light.
Snowfall had spilled her tea after slipping into her armor. The visit was unexpected.
“Your highness,” Snowfall said, crashing to her knees at once.
Twilight found her strolling along through the soldiers’ camp within the city walls. The air was as dry as it was freezing. Only the Northern soldiers, Snowfall among them, could bare stick their noses outside without catching frostbite.
Twilight motioned with her hoof for Snowfall to rise.
“We hadn’t been expecting you, your highness, forgive me.”
“And I hadn’t expected I would need to be here. Looks as though we’re all in for surprises,” Twilight muttered, leading Snowfall down the snow-drowned path through the camp.
“Your brother is in the palace, I think.”
“There’s more pressing matters at the moment,” Twilight said, “You’ve made no progress?”
“...Our scouts couldn't find any bodies lost to the frozen wastes. None besides our own. We believe the six of them have split up,” Snowfall said, struggling to keep up with Twilight’s quick pace.
“Split up? Where?”
“Hawkbit flew in last night. He found the pegasus, wandering the streets of Cloudsdale.”
“Cloudsdale? What was he doing there?”
“I’d sent him there. I thought Lightning Dust might have fled there if they were to separate.”
Twilight’s scowl hardened.
“My order was for the three of you to pursue them in the North. Not Cloudsdale.”
“I was only-”
“Nevermind it. You’ve found the truth. Next time consult me first.”
“Yes, princess, sorry.”
“What of the others?”
“We’re not sure. I sent Redshift with a platoon of fifty, to Manehattan. Suri Polomare might have gone there.”
“I could care less about Lightning Dust or Suri Polomare. Where is Starlight?”
“My assumption is that she’s either hiding somewhere here in the North, or fled south to Canterlot.”
“Canterlot? Has she gone mad already?”
“When Starlight came here, to the Crystal Empire, her strategy was to hide in plain sight. She likely made the same choice with Canterlot. It’s you she must want, your highness. And as far as she knows, you’re still in Canterlot.”
Twilight wondered if there had been a moment the both of them were in Canterlot. Their paths had to cross, she knew it to be true.
“Starlight can be unpredictable. Don’t presume to know her every move after two failed encounters.”
Snowfall bit her tongue, discouraged by Twilight’s rebuke.
"We might want to reach out to Princess Celestia, or Luna, or-" Snowfall attemtped.
"That is not an option," Twilight interjected. Snowfall narrowed her eyes, wondering whether it was jealousy that shone in Twilight's eyes, or spitefulness, or grief. Nobody had heard from Celestia or Luna in months, as it were, and Snowfall was not alone in wondering whether Twilight had anything to do with it. Rumors had swelled in regard to Equestria's former rulers, not long before the murders. She remembered the voices, the murmurs in the corridor, the burnt letters.
Celestia's secrets.
They say she's gone mad.
Equestria won't forgive her. Not this time
Something needs to be done.
All madness, Snowfall had supposed. Still, the very name seemed to set Twilight into a frenzy, a desperate confusion that made Snowfall reconsider her suspicions.
“I entrusted you to handle this," Twilight continued, regaining her composure, "But perhaps somepony better qualified is needed. Perhaps you’re working against me."
Snowfall, abruptly, came to a halt in the snow and crashed to her knees.
“On my honor as your servant, I would never. I obey your every command, princess," Snowfall said, terrified, "I'm yours, Princess. I will always be yours."
Twilight seemed to be amused.
“Your loyalty is appreciated. But it's the results I want, Lieutenant. Between you and Starlight, one is running out of time.”
Twilight left Snowfall on her knees in the snow. And, to Snowfall’s shock, she could feel the cold of the snow on her coat, stinging.
On the evening that she left Canterlot, Alias had made one last attempt to compel her to stay.
“The fate of Equestria lies with you,” he said, “Do not rush into the fray so carelessly.”
“I need to see her,” Cadance insisted, “Let’s try it my way, before we try it yours.”
Alias’s wrinkled scowl hardened. There were certain entitlements that came with royalty, as he expected.
“No harm will come to you. My eyes are everywhere,” Alias growled, spitefully, “We’ll be guarding you, hiding in plain sight.”
“Of course. You have a reputation to uphold,” Cadance replied.
She set out with six companions on the road north. Smaller company travels more swiftly, but the Princess of the Crystal Empire does not travel alone. Alongside her were Oz and Delia, her two guards that had been abducted alongside Cadance by the Erased. There were four Blackcoats with her also, under the guises of Crystal Guards. Eight Ball was one, the acting second to Alias during Bandolier’s absence. From the Badlands came Tango, whose accent was always thick and whose steel was always sharp. From Sunstone came Jet Stream, a pegasus Wonderbolt. And since Alias found it suitable to have a mare travel alongside the princess too, there was Pink Mist, a wild young thing, an orphan picked up off the street and recruited into the royal army.
Cadance marveled at how far-reaching the Erased’s roots were stuck. Ponies from all across Equestria owed their loyalty to Alias. How many of her own back at the Crystal Empire were deceiving her? How many were passing letters right beneath her nose?
They took off north, across the fields of dew and through red woods and rivers.
“Send word when you reach the city,” Alias told her, “There is a fog about us. Rumors, lies, and tall tales. I would not dare risk anything until I know the truth of what’s happened.”
They will have a war on their hooves, sooner or later, Cadance figured. The Crystal Empire was no stranger to war. Whispers of the Dark King Sombra lingered every now and then. But far worse monsters were now clawing at the gates.
Cadance was not of the north. She would always be a stranger to its ponies, to their superstitions and frigid demeanors. Yet they were hers to protect. “The cold winds rise,” Shining Armor had warned her.
She had missed him these past weeks. There were few ponies left that she could trust. He was one of them. How much longer would he, or any of the ponies she cared about, be safe? The air grew colder with each step along the road. They could not outrun the storm.
Starlight Glimmer had left the Canterlot Boutique, along with the captive Rarity, under Trixie's supervision, the morning she slipped off into the city's darkened dawn. She had was not fond of the idea of separating, though she knew she would move faster alone, and they could not bring Rarity with them wherever they went.
The following night had been spent carefully assessing the best place to continue. Rarity had some information to offer, though she served better as a hostage than as an informant.
There were few ponies in the city who could truly help her, and even less who would be willing to do so.
She came to the white-marble estate of one Stegwig, formerly a general in the royal army and Celestia's very own defense secretary. Rarity had been able to recall that he had resigned as secretary shortly after the Ponyville murders. Now Starlight needed to know why.
The mansion rivaled the grandeur of the royal palace itself, though it loomed many stories lower in the shadow of the mountain. Starlight ignored the great spires of the palace that seemed to watch her as she trotted past. If Twilight knew she was there in Canterlot, she would be dead by now, she reminded herself.
For hours, she took a spot in the bushes across the street, spending some time watching the house, its comings and goings. Stegwig had a wife much younger than himself, three small foals, and at least three servants. She had never seen the general himself enter or leave the house, however.
He wants to stay where it's safe.
Once she was certain the three foals had left for good with their mother, Starlight's patience ran out. Igniting her horn, she teleported herself to the only place in the house she could - the living room she had been able to make out from the window outside.
The house was just as magnificent inside as out, she found.
She trotted up the stairs, carefully, and listened closely to any servants that might have been lurking nearby.
On the upper floor, she suspected the solar as Stegwig's hideaway, since his bedroom appeared to be empty.
She trotted closer to the door, and creaked it open.
She stopped short, however, when she found Stegwig inside, with one of the servants wrapped in his arms, slobbering over his lips.
The servant noticed first, jumping up and screaming. Starlight flinched. Her horn came to life again, blasting the girl right in the face. The servant collapsed to her knees, falling into a deep sleep. She fell to the ground in a heap.
Stegwig was silent for a while, mouth agape, as he began to register who exactly this home invader happened to be.
"Starlight Glimmer?" he croaked.
"Sorry to interrupt," she said, stepping over the sleeping servant. Starlight shut the door in an aura of magic, "Your wife, when does she get home?"
"N-Not till 5 p.m, at least. How did you get in my home?"
"Relax, I don't plan on staying long," Starlight said, approaching him. Stegwig tensed up in his chair. "You're going to answer my questions."
"What cause do I have to help a wanted fugitive?" Stegwig laughed, "You don't frighten me as much as you do the rest of them, Glimmer. Do your worst."
Starlight smiled.
"I know a terrific spell for you, general," Starlight said, "That compels ponies to tell the truth. I wonder what would happen if I cast that on you and your little friend here, and then told your wife what I've found."
Stegwig's smirk withered away.
"I think we have an understanding now, hm?" Starlight teased, "Twilight Sparkle wants me dead. Correct?"
"You need me to tell you that? Dead or alive, she wants you off the streets, before more ponies die," Stegwig said.
"You had no plans to resign until the murders took place. Why?" Starlight demanded.
"...I had failed in my duties to protect them. I disgraced my office. Princess Twilight accepted my decision," he said.
"But how could you have known that they needed to be protected? Were they in danger before?" Starlight asked.
Stegwig laughed.
"Grave danger, though they thought otherwise. They should never have met all together like that in the open. The damned fools walked right into their own slaughter, confirmed their treachery just by being there."
"Treachery? Against whom?" Starlight asked.
"Against Twilight. Against Celestia. Against Equestria," Stegwig said, firmly.
Starlight took notice of Celestia more than the others.
"Nopony's heard from Celestia in months," Starlight said, recalling what Sunset had told her, "You served under her for many years, right until her abdication. What was she like, towards the end?"
Stegwig eyed her. He knew what she was getting at, but was reluctant to respond.
"I could always just call your wife right now, I suppose that'd be quicker," Starlight said, levitating the nearby landline toward her.
"Stop, stop, for Luna's sake," Stegwig growled, "Princess Celestia was...Not well. Her sister knew it. All of the council knew it. And Princess Twilight knew it. She was anxious and sullen all the time. She'd look right through you, like you weren't even there. It started around the time she first decided to step down from the throne. She spent a great deal of time alone, or else with Princess Twilight, staring into her seeing stone, drinking strange potions and wasting away. Then shortly before Twilight's coronation, she disappeared entirely. Some say she had taken up a great voyage somewhere. Some say she was killed."
"And what do you think?"
"Who can say? By that time, she'd gone completely mad."
"Mad?"
"The sickness, that's what Dr. Marrow called it. Alicorn sickness. They all succumb to it, eventually," Stegwig said.
Starlight shook her head, struggling to make sense of it. Twilight having gone mad may have been the kindest rationale, but it seemed unlikely.
"You said the creatures who were murdered were traitors. Why was nothing done sooner, if you knew it already?"
"Because what one pony calls treason, they called justice," Stegwig said, "The council was split on how to proceed, knowing that Twilight Sparkle would eventually become mad, too. Rumors rose about Celestia, as well. Investigations began, and vicious lies spread about her."
"What kind of lies?"
"That she was a tyrant," Stegwig said, softly, "A usurper with no true claim to the throne. That her reign began with the bloodshed of babes and the innocent. All nonsense, of course. Posh and Filibuster and Bronze Beam, they had decided the monarchy had to fall, that Celestia's alleged crimes and the possibility of Twilight falling to the sickness were grounds to start anew. They thought of themselves as revolutionaries, as heroes. But I knew them better. What they wanted was power for themselves. They created those lies about Celestia to justify the coup they were planning. Ember, Thorax, Novo, they all wanted the same thing. Power and riches for their kingdoms, free from Equestria's dominance. Fools love fools."
"If all that is true, how could they have ever hoped to fight against Twilight?" Starlight asked.
Stegwig shrugged.
"They had plans. You were one of them, I'd been told."
"Me?" Starlight stammered. She recalled what Thorax had told her, all those months ago, the words that brought her to all this horror.
We've been putting a lot of plans together. We'd love to fill you in about everything.
"You're one of a handful of unicorns who could challenge Twilight Sparkle," Stegwig said, "At some point they planned to turn you against her. But I guess you did that yourself."
"No, I didn't! I didn't mean to, I..." Starlight stuttered, disgusted with herself, "I have to go."
Stegwig laughed.
"Safe travels, Starlight Glimmer. Twilight will be so glad to see you again."
Sunlight dwindled, as did her hope for a speedy success.
“I told you what the consequences would be.”
Bon Bon was keeled over in the snow. There was a guard on either side of her, eyeing the shivering mess of a mare as tears turned to frost.
“Twilight,” Bon Bon whimpered, struggling to push herself off her knees, “Give me a second chance, please.”
“Sunset Shimmer could be halfway into the Mossy Marsh by now.”
“I’ll find them. I did it once, when none of your own troops could. You need me.”
Snowfall had arrived, having just caught wind of Bon Bon’s withered cries.
“Maybe you let them escape? Maybe you mean to deceive me?”
“I didn’t!”
“Your highness,” Snowfall interrupted, as Twilight’s horn began to glow.
Twilight glared at Snowfall.
“She's likely a spy," Twilight said.
“Or just unlucky,” Snowfall posited, “It was my failures that convinced you to bring her here. I beg you, don't punish her for what's my doing.”
Twilight scoffed, as if Snowfall had made a crude joke.
“You have a soft heart, Lieutenant. Someday it will get you killed.”
Twilight took a step back, and Bon Bon gave a great sigh of relief.
“See her free then, if you wish. You’re mistaken if you believe I enjoy bloodshed. But these are dark times. And there are less and less ponies to trust.”
Snowfall nodded, understandingly.
“And Lyra?” Bon Bon demanded, while Twilight turned to sulk off into the snow.
Twilight did not answer.
Bon Bon’s legs gave out once again, and she collapsed into the snow, struggling to restrain herself from bursting into tears.
Snowfall glanced back at Twilight, whose muddled silhouette disappeared in the snows.
“This is a bad idea.”
Lightning Dust held the point of the trio, sticking her head out from an alleyway corner.
Kickstart had his hoof firmly stuck in front of Scootaloo, preventing her from running off.
After a night's flight, they had slipped into Rhinefrost early in the morning, touching down in an empty alley, where Kickstart half-expected they would remain indefinitely. The city was blanketed in snow, its frostfed grey stones trembling in their stays.
“They're gonna see us,” Scootaloo reminded.
“This city is crawling with soldiers,” Kickstart muttered, “And you said your friends were in the Icehearth, not here.”
“They are,” Lightning said, shrugging, “It’s not far from here. We can’t fly there, the winds are too strong. We’ll need a sled, or an engine, or something.”
Scootaloo grimaced, tucked beneath Kickstart’s front leg.
Lightning glanced back.
“My friends need me," Lightning said, excited over the prospect of returning to them, "I have to find them.”
“So you can go on murdering more ponies?” Scootaloo demanded.
“I told you already, I never murdered anypony!” Lighting exclaimed.
Kickstart meant to interject, until he noticed a caravan of soldiers parading past the alleyway.
Kickstart reached and pushed them all back against the edge of the wall. His hoof was right on Lightning’s chest; her face flushed red.
He drew his hoof back once the patrol had passed.
“This place isn't too far from the Crystal City, why don’t we go there to meet them?” Scootaloo suggested, recalling Cheerilee's geography lessons.
“We wouldn’t make it five steps into the city without being spotted and questioned," Lightning rebuked.
Scootaloo had not thought of that.
“Come on. Soon enough somepony will notice us here,” Lightning said, leading them out from the trio. She adjusted her hot pink leather jacket, her black cap and her sunglasses, hoping to keep her face hidden.
The streets of Rhinefrost were buried in snow. Its battlements were dark grey stone, its houses gentle wood, cut from the surrounding forests.
The snow concealed them, as they struggled through the bitter-bite winds that whistled and screeched in the paper-thin air.
Lightning turned back once or twice, and at some point noticed Scootaloo’s trembling pale face.
She stripped off her jacket and stuck it in Scootaloo’s hooves.
“It’s not meant for warmth, but it’s better than nothing.”
Scootaloo made no reply, though she appreciated the gesture. The jacket was gratuitously oversized, though helped against the cold.
The streets were mostly empty that morning, with many of the frost ponies still asleep in their beds. They kept on, Kickstart now in the front.
But it was Scootaloo who first noticed the commotion.
Down one street there were three ponies, mere silhouettes in the thick snows. Their voices carried, though, and it sounded like trouble.
“Hey,” Scootaloo said, tugging on Lightning’s tail.
All of them turned to see. Lightning’s eyes lit up.
She spread her wings and took off towards the scene.
The snows had blinded her, however, and, flying at full speed, Lightning ran into straight into a stout earth pony with a brown mane and a grey coat, colliding head-on, both of them barreling into a streetbound mound of snow.
Kickstart and Scootaloo arrived, catching sight of a mare with a bright green curly mane, and a golden unicorn half-awake on a nearby sled. There was a frost army soldier there too, his dug-in brow heavy over his bright blue eyes.
“Hey! None of you move,” he said, reaching for the hilt of his sword tucked away in his scabbard. He had stopped the ponies initially as a formality, though the more he pried, the more suspicious he found them.
Kickstart had assumed the guard was going to arrest them, and chose to act first. His hoof swung right into the guard’s face, knocking him off his hooves. The guard lost his grip on his sword, and fell over a heap of snow onto his head. Kickstart moved in to finish the job, that was, until Scootaloo grabbed a hold of him.
“Don’t,” she begged.
His eyes passed over her, and reluctantly he gave in.
“Th-thank you,” the curly-haired mare said, brushing a lock of her mane from her eye. She was shivering from head to hoof.
Lightning had the stallion by the throat, angrily jostling him back and forth.
“Lightning!” the green mare cried.
Lightning did not release her grip on the stallion, turning her head half-around at Wallflower Blush behind her.
“He’s with us! Lightning, he’s with us!” Wallflower exclaimed.
Lightning turned back to the stallion. She let go of his throat and jumped back in fright. The pony had morphed into an insect-like creature, with tall antlers and glowing eyes.
“A changeling!” Lightning screeched, falling backwards into the snow. She had never laid eyes on one before.
Callidus morphed back into his disguise, relieved to be breathing.
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but I think you broke my nose,” Callidus said.
“Er, sorry about that,” Lightning said, sheepishly.
Wallflower ran to embrace Lightning, wrapping her forelegs around the pegasus' neck. Lightning awkwardly held Wallflower, begrudgingly allowing herself the comfort of a friend.
"You came back," Wallflower said, smiling.
"Yeah, yeah, don't get all blubbery about it," Lightning grinned, "...We were gonna head north to find you."
“We made it easier for you. Here, let's get out of the open,” Wallflower said, rushing over to pull Sunset's sled, "We just got back from the Icehearth."
Lightning noticed the gash on Sunset’s head, which had only barely healed.
“There was trouble,” Wallflower elaborated.
Lightning glanced at Scootaloo and Kickstart to follow her, as she joined Wallflower, Callidus, and Sunset, marching towards one of the houses on the street block.
“I rented this place before I found you,” Callidus muttered to Wallflower, “Figured we would need a roof to stay under for a little while.”
Callidus opened the door to the house, revealing a small living room, just large enough for one pony to live in comfortably.
“Go on,” Callidus said, ushering them all inside.
Lightning was the last to enter. She took one last glance back at the snowstorm laying waste to the city. She liked being in the thick of it, she realized. This was what was deserved.
The dirt from his tracks washed over the edge with each sweeping swill of the downpour.
Rainbow Dash peeked her head out from the window, checking the street outside for any lurking pairs of eyes.
She turned back to Blondie, who was resting beside a the heat of a candle, the only source of light in the ruinous, abandoned building they had taken refuge in, two stories high.
Rainbow avoided staring too long. While she may have found him handsome once, he had begun to frighten her more than anything else.
Brandy tossed over on the ground, grunting in pain before she could open her eyes.
"What the hell..." she muttered, catching sight of Blondie and Rainbow, and the candle, and the downpour outside. And, more importantly, no Underground ponies in sight.
"...Blondie?" she managed, crawling up to her hooves. She was too weak to stand for long, staggering over towards the others by the candle, with help from Rainbow. They sat down together, while Blondie kept his distance, fixated from afar on those eyes of hers.
Brandy felt like crying, and instead broke into a giddy fit of laughter, amazed to have survived at all.
"We're taking you to Crozer," Blondie elaborated. He paid attention to her, every shift in her gaze, every word that grazed her lips.
Brandy's smile fell off her lips.
"No...No, you can't. Blondie, I told you, I told you, I need to get out of this city. They're going to kill me!"
"He gave us his word he wouldn't, if you give him what he wants," Blondie said.
"You shouldn't be trusting him, he's just using you. Whatever he promised you, he's lying."
Rainbow sat up, uneasily, considering whether Crozer was serious about his plans for her friends, or if she was right, and it was all some bluff. Or maybe he would kill them nonetheless, and her along with them, for that matter.
"We'll make sure you're safe. But we have to do this," Rainbow said, attempting a lighter approach while Blondie ran out of words.
Brandy shook her head in dismay.
"Fine. But I'm warning you, you're making a mistake."
Blondie stuck a cigarette in his mouth and reached for his lighter.
Brandy stormed off away from them, planting herself down by a window sill several yards away.
"Don't stray too far," Blondie called out.
Brandy scoffed and turned away from them, facing the waterfall of rainwater pouring off a hanging pavilion.
"What happens to you when this is over?" Rainbow whispered, glaring at Blondie, "When she's safe?"
Blondie took a breath, before taking the cigarette out of his mouth, loosely hanging it in the air while looking on past the candle into the darkness. He huffed air out his nose. and glanced up at her, briefly, before returning to the candle flame. He recalled those eyes of deep blue, faded paintings in his head.
"She's never going to be safe," Blondie said.
Rainbow backed down.
"We'll make it out of this," Rainbow said, "I promise."
Blondie had trembling breath, his eyes darting wildly between Rainbow and the flame. He was afraid to let her in, he told himself, or anypony for that matter. He couldn't let himself lose. Not again.
“You look worse than I do.”
Lightning grinned while helping Sunset down onto the red leather couch sitting by the fire. The heat was all Sunset needed.
“You’ve made friends,” Sunset said, glancing at the two strangers taking their post by the other couch. Kickstart kept himself at Scootaloo’s side, and his eyes never left the shivering trio. The fireplace roared, while Callidus bolted the door shut and closed the blinds.
“You too,” Lightning said, “A changeling?”
Callidus ignored her snide remark.
“A changeling has more to offer than a child and Frankenstein over here,” Sunset dismissed.
“I’d be dead if not for them,” Lightning said, defensively.
“Go figure. What did I say would happen if you flew off? You got lucky, is what it seems.”
“And we didn’t?” Wallflower interjected, catching both of them by surprise, “That earth pony would have had both our heads already if we didn’t have help.”
Lightning was speechless. She had come back, against her better judgment, and this was how Sunset receives her?
Sunset scoffed.
“Saved by a changeling. Of all the rotten jokes.”
“We should head south, to the capital,” Callidus proposed.
“As if there’s not enough death and misery here already?” Sunset countered.
“You said Starlight Glimmer’s there right now. Splitting up didn’t work. We should regroup,” Callidus said.
“Is it we already?” Sunset said.
“What about Suri? She’ll be looking for us in the North, not the capital,” Lightning said.
“She’ll head south too, if she’s got any wits.”
“Wherever we go, we should leave quickly,” Kickstart said.
“Has my hospitality gone so far past your head? This is my home,” Callidus said.
“Your home is some filthy hole in the changeling hive,” Sunset said, “Scarface is right. We need to leave.”
“And the Princess? She’s bound to have a trap waiting for us in the capital, isn’t she?” Wallflower asked.
“We’ll need to get there quickly,” Sunset said, “Whatever trap she’s got, Starlight will walk into it first.”
She dreamt she was home, tucked away by the red embers of her hearth, a childhood novel resting in her lap. Nothing stirred beyond the odd crack and cough of the fire. What did she see in the light, but the dream she wished she could be living?
“Twilight!”
Shining Armor was clad in his shimmering silver armor, his tufts of cerulean hair spilling out from his helm, sprawled like waves of the sea.
He embraced her before she could take a second step through the door. She recognized the two crystal guards standing idly by. The raw-jawed Hardball, and the short-statured Windchill. She paid them no notice.
“Next time you visit, warn me first. We could have had a feast ready by now,” Shining Armor grinned.
“...Could we speak in private?” Twilight asked.
Shining Armor’s smile faded. His little sister’s eyes were cold, and he could not read her as well as he used to.
He glanced at Hardball and Windchill. They filed out from the palace foyer in even step.
“Twilight, there you are.”
Twilight had opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Princess Cadance, arriving at the top of the staircase. Her eyes fell down on Twilight, who tried to hide her irritation with being caught by surprise.
“Sister, I heard you were on holiday,” Twilight said, mortified to be misinformed. She would have her scroll colt flogged for this.
“With the world upside down? Better to keep our enemies confused, don’t you think?”
Twilight watched as Cadance began her descent down the stairs. Shining Armor made way for her to join them.
“If only our enemies were as brash as they are misguided,” Twilight said.
“Yes. Walking the wire must tire the hoof at some point,” Cadance said.
Twilight’s smirk dropped for a moment. Shining Armor did not notice that the princesses’ eyes were locked on one another, coiled and taut.
“A rare sort of loyalty,” Twilight agreed, her eyes passing from Cadance to her brother, right as the Princess of Love arrived before them.
“It was her belief that Starlight and her friends had fled south,” Shining Armor said, “I won’t be relaxing our defenses until the threat is dealt with, though.”
“Of course,” Twilight said, approvingly.
“...I didn’t believe it at first. That Starlight could do it,” Shining Armor said.
“Yes, it was…troubling news,” Twilight said.
“Troubling, yes. How a pony we trusted could betray us, betray herself? I dared never give ground to such a frightful thing,” Cadance said, glaring at Twilight.
“It’s easy to make careless mistakes, when we’re frightened,” Twilight said, her words spilling out slow, “Better to wait until we understand what we’re up against.”
“Perhaps we could reason with her. Perhaps she’s not too far gone,” Cadance proposed, “Then we could show her mercy.”
Twilight’s eyes flashed red.
“Something tells me our enemy will not be so merciful in return.”
Cadance had trouble keeping a steady set of breaths. Twilight blinked several times in erratic succession, and turned her head back to Shining Armor.
“You’ve done well protecting the North. This will all be over soon,” Twilight assured.
She turned for the door, though Shining Armor had expected her to stay for dinner.
“I’ll be returning to Canterlot. Keep the course.”
“Goodbye, Twilight,” Shining Armor said.
Cadance was silent as the grave.
Bon Bon rubbed at her eyes, ignoring the drink left for her by Snowfall.
The ice-eyed unicorn had just returned with a duffel bag, packed full of Bon Bon's own equipment and supplies. She dropped the bag at the foot of the tent flap, which she promptly sealed up with a spell.
"There's a train tomorrow, early, for Ponyville. I bought you a ticket," Snowfall said, before she could sit down. Snowfall's tent was not much bigger than the ordinary troops', though it made up for that in its warmth.
"I'm sorry about...." Snowfall said, unsure what else she could offer, while Bon Bon sat with red eyes and a pale face, hollowed by grief. "Princess Twilight can...sometimes lose her temper...But there's no excuse for what she did to your wife. If there's anything you need, please let me know, I want to help."
Bon Bon glared at her, before sighing and backing down. She supposed she could not levy her anger towards this pony, who had admittedly come to her aid against Twilight's wrath already.
"Before we were married," Bon Bon said, "Lyra made me promise never to do this kind of stuff again. She didn't want to live in fear, for her life or mine. And as far as I could tell, I'd done it. I'd gotten out. Then Twilight, she....What do I have left now? I did what she wanted. She can't get away with this, it's not right. Even her loyal little dog knows it's not right."
Snowfall glanced at the ground. That moniker had gained traction as of late, Twilight's dog, and though she hated it, now was not the time to challenge a pony shattered by grief.
"You should take some extra bit of food," Snowfall decided, rising and turning around to dig through her trunk, "Here, it's not much, but-"
But, after turning around, Snowfall was grieved to find that Bon Bon had disappeared, along with her bag.
Snowfall rushed out of the tent, frantically scanning the area for prints in the snow. But the rows of passing troops had muddled the tracks all together, and Bon Bon had been long lost to the blinding white of the snows.
Snowfall hung her head in regret, and climbed back into her tent, hoping that the pony wouldn't be too eager to jump back into the fray.
“Do you think it’s smart, trusting a changeling?” Lightning had reclaimed her pink jacket, brushing snow off of her mane. Sunset was on her hooves once more, her forehead soiled in blood. She was filling a bag with canned foods from Callidus’ pantry. She had not had a good meal in months - baked beans and mealy corn made for a feast. They were alone together in the kitchen.
“Smart ponies don’t find themselves in situations like ours.”
“He’ll sell us out as soon as we're out of the North," Lightning warned.
“You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like. Though it doesn’t seem like you fared well the last time you tried running away,” Sunset said.
Lightning, who stood behind Sunset with a certain eagerness about her, waved over her words.
"I didn't run away. I went to find help, and I brought help. I came back, just like I said I would."
Sunset zipped up the bag, and rose to meet Lightning at eye level.
“You did. Not for us, I suspect. Going got tough?”
Lightning stared at her, blankly.
“You’re a hotshot coward with delusions of grandeur. About time you had a wake-up call.” Sunset walked around her, slinging the bag around her shoulder.
"I'm just trying to help," Lightning said, weakly.
But Sunset was already gone, rounding the corner of the house to find Wallflower by the front door. Scootaloo had overheard, though said nothing. Kickstart remained at her side. He did not trust these ponies. Especially that unicorn.
Sunset arrived by Wallflower, adjusting the straps of her bag.
"You shouldn't talk to her like that," Wallflower said, "She's one of us. Start treating her like it."
Sunset glared at her.
"I like her," Sunset admitted, "But she's reckless and arrogant, and if we don't set her straight, she'll get us all killed. That's the hard truth."
Wallflower sighed, and considered Sunset's point.
“How will we find her?” Wallflower asked.
“Starlight?” Sunset asked, “Depends on when we get there. Canterlot may be a pile of rubble if we’re not quick enough.”
“Just to get at Twilight? Starlight would never do something like that,” Wallflower insisted.
“Don’t fool yourself into thinking she’ll be as kind and merciful as she says, when Twilight finds her," Sunset laughed.
“She said it herself, she needs our help to get the upper hoof," Wallflower reminded.
“She may change her mind when she's face-to-face of the pony who ruined her life.”
Wallflower glanced at the floor, hoping Sunset was wrong.
“Don’t trouble yourself. If things don’t work out for her,” Sunset said, with a wonderful wide grin, “They’ll work out for me.”
Twilight stood before the window, rocking nervously while the dying sheer-shaded light of the sun dwindled beneath the black clouds that brought the night. She was not certain what she was searching for out there, over the spires and stones of Canterlot. But her eyes were drawn to whatever they could catch.
She had arrived back at the capital that afternoon. Wedge Ward, her captain of the guard, had done a sufficient job ruling in her stead; the city was still standing, at least. Spike had helped himself to a banquet of gems first thing upon returning; he was famished after the journey.
Twilight had waved off attempts by the thin-faced Featherglass and the effeminate, starry-eyed Marius Moonshine. Their counsel was of value to her, but not to the extent that required her to spare herself her fair due of solitude.
She had hoped as much at least, until the great stone doors came swinging open, screeching as they went.
“Twilight! Thank Celestia you’re back!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed. Fluttershy was shuffling in after her. Twilight could not stop herself from smiling - some friendly faces may have been just what she needed.
“You’re back!” Twilight said.
“Rode in this morning. We looked for you, but the guards said you were gone.”
“Where’s Rainbow?” Twilight asked. She recalled sending three ponies to Manehattan, to satisfy some ill-thought-out heroic quest, but here were only two.
Fluttershy’s face soured.
“She stayed. She’s not hurt,” Fluttershy said.
“What? Why? What happened?” Twilight asked.
“Oh, forget about all that!” Pinkie interjected, “Where’s Rarity? Isn’t she with you?”
Twilight choked on her own breath.
“What?”
Pinkie’s smile died like a switch had been turned off. She glanced at Fluttershy.
“Nopony’s seen her anywhere…We thought she was with you.”
Twilight’s eyes shut, and she had to laugh for a moment. She had left herself vulnerable, she realized. Starlight had been busy.
That night the bells rang from the great palace tower. Torches were lit about every streetpath and cobblestone way, everywhere that the fugitives might be found.
“Your absence seems to have been noticed.” Starlight Glimmer kept at the edge of the alley, crouched behind some barrels of grain left unattended during the chaos in the streets. Rarity grunted into the cloth gag wrapped around her mouth, lying at Starlight's side.
Starlight was still bitter over having to abandon the boutique, though she supposed she should have known Rarity's disappearance would have eventually caused a stir.
Ponies ran to their homes, to safety. Royal guards patrolled the city in droves. They would not be going anywhere anytime soon.
Behind her, Trixie lay in the sludge with Rarity, who squealed and fought restlessly, though not enough to draw attention.
“We should never have come here,” Trixie muttered.
“The welcome won’t be any warmer anywhere else,” Starlight said.
“How will they do it, once they catch us?" Trixie wondered, "Beheading? Hanging? Burning at the stake?”
“I don’t know. I suppose it’s Twilight's decision," Starlight said.
“Ah. All three, probably.”
Water splashed from behind them. Starlight spun around, her horn already ablaze.
There was a stallion, approaching them from deeper in the alley. He had a thinning head of pale grey hair, and was draped in a black coat, with a tie to match.
He did not fit the bill for a royal guard, nor even an acolyte of Twilight’s.
“That’s far enough.” Starlight called out.
The earth pony kept on approaching them, prompting Starlight’s horn to glow brighter.
“I thought you'd have had a better strategy, the day you arrived at the capital,” the stallion said, “I’m Alias. We’re glad to see you’re in one piece. Our meeting is long overdue.”
“We?”
There were more ponies slithering out from the darkness behind him, all draped in black coats.
“We’re the Erased. And we have a common enemy, Starlight Glimmer. We know what you saw.”
Starlight was relieved, glancing at Trixie.
“Come with us,” Alias said, extending his hoof towards them.
Trixie took to Starlight’s side.
“They could be trying to trick us.”
“...We’re not going to get any closer to Twilight scrounging for scraps in the dark,” Starlight said, "They might know more about what she's been up to..."
Trixie glared at her. Red malice. She knew that look. She had seen it on Sunset the day she laid waste to the guards during the massacre at Sunburst’s home.
“I know you want to get back at her more than anything. Trust me, so do I," Trixie said, "But don’t lose sight of why we’re doing this. This isn’t about you or me.”
“I know that,” Starlight shot back. She was not sure she was convinced of that, however, as the mere mention of her former teacher made her blood boil. She had turned every one of her friends against her, with the exception of Trixie, whose life would be in permanent jeopardy. All for what?
Starlight followed after Alias, disappearing into the dark with the other blackcoats. Trixie, bitterly, hoisted Rarity up to drag her along with them.
“Princess Cadance was here?” Starlight asked, amazed.
Starlight, Trixie, Rarity, Alias, and the host of blackcoats were filing into the lowest level of the Erased’s Canterlot headquarters. They passed by control pads and blinking screens, ponies erratically carrying paperwork to and fro. The Control Room was utter chaos.
“She left not long ago. Wanted to speak with Twilight again. What good would come out of that, I’ve no idea,” Alias said.
“To gauge if she can be reasoned with?” Trixie guessed.
“Reason is wasted on a princess.”
Starlight took in the scale of the underground lair, and its bustling staff of agents.
"Any word on Celestia and Luna?" Starlight asked, "One's disappeared and the other's in self-isolation. I've got a hunch they're involved somehow."
"Celestia's gone," Alias said, gravely "We haven't been able to locate her in months."
"You don't seem too concerned," Starlight said.
"Celestia was the focus of our last investigation. Then she disappears off the earth, and the murders happen a week later. We left the case behind us," Alias said.
"So she is the cause of this," Starlight figured, "You're sure there's no way to locate her?"
Alias shook his head.
"We tried everything already. Probably flew off somewhere far away to escape this mess. And as for Luna...We're keeping a close eye on her."
Starlight nodded, somewhat suspicious of his meaning.
“You have all these resources, so why sit here and do nothing?” Starlight said.
Rarity was in perpetual amazement. As with every other citizen of Equestria, the Erased and the grey world they fought for were a hidden part of the world. A part she was not certain she was supposed to be seeing.
“Information is my trade. And until I have all of the information I need, an open war is best avoided,” Alias scoffed.
"So, what have you found out?" Starlight demanded.
"Only that Twilight may not have worked alone. Our goal now is to hunt down any and all accomplices. They'll be more willing to talk than Twilight ever would. And we might finally get a grasp on what's behind all of this."
"Forget the accomplices," Starlight said, "I watched her tear them all to pieces. Right in front of me. You're giving her all the time she needs to keep Equestria fooled. She needs to be stopped, before she hurts anypony else."
Alias stopped in his tracks, and glared back at her. The other blackcoats all moved out of his way, as he approached Starlight with blood in his eyes.
“If you would prefer to run carelessly to your death, go right ahead. But my responsibility is to Equestria, not my own pride. I thought you alone might have the sense to understand that. Perhaps I was wrong.”
Starlight’s eyes passed over him, when another blackcoat arrived up the stairs, gasping for breath after a lengthy sprint.
“Chief!” the pony cried.
Alias turned around, hardly phased.
“Stiletto, Flamberge! They’re in Seaward, they’ve just sent word to us. They left Lady Lavender’s palace with the assassin, as you requested.”
“Well done,” Alias said.
“...But they were intercepted,” the blackcoat said, “By a platoon of royal guards. Flamberge recognized two. Styles and Venger, both in the Nine.”
“Styles. Sent by Sparkle, then. They’ve escaped?” Alias asked.
“Both of them did," the blackcoat replied, "But Bandolier was lost. The assassin too.”
Alias did not speak for what felt like an eternity. His face was harder than normal, his eyes stung red.
“No matter,” he said beneath his breath, “Twilight has sent her pets to pick us off. If that's the game she wants, she will have it.”
Alias marched down the steps, the others following close behind him.
“Send word to Sergeant Genever in Canterlot. I want ten more ponies helping him keep surveillance on Twilight. And as for you,” Alias said, glancing at Starlight, “You may get your chance sooner than you thought.”
Starlight would have smiled, if she wasn’t terrified.
Bandolier waded through the stream of blood she left in her wake, staggering and stumbling like a newborn deer.
“Let’s stop here,” Bandolier offered. Clover was only a few steps ahead of him, just as lost.
“We can’t stop,” Clover muttered.
“You’ll spare the guards their hunt, dying before they find us. Here will be good.”
“What for? So you can tie me in chains again? Or cut my throat? Don’t start thinking me saving your life makes us friends.”
“Saving my life?” Bandolier snickered, taking a seat on one mossy rock by a log crawling in ants, “Is that what you call it?”
“Get up. They’ll be on top of us any moment.”
“What a fool I was, leaving the flagon with that boorish brute Flamberge. I’ll die of thirst, if not from your nagging. If I die without a belly of wine, I lose a bet.”
“Please get up. I’d like to live.”
“Take a rest. You'll thank me later," he replied.
Clover sighed, and sat down herself, resting her aching legs. She picked at the torn, dirt-stained fabric of her canary yellow dress.
“This was my favorite,” she muttered, glumly.
“I’d say it was once beautiful, if anypony else was wearing it,” Bandolier said.
“Jibe all you want. You’re a kite in a hurricane, and the best part is you’ve no idea.”
“You’re right. And it’s killing me, whatever it is you insist on keeping to yourself. It will kill you too, when those soldiers catch up to us. I wonder if you’ll still be smirking, when they’re flaying you or burning you or pulling your teeth out.”
“At least I’ll be of value to them. You’ll just be another corpse.”
“A pretty face doesn’t last forever," Bandolier rebutted.
Clover glared at him, resenting his implications.
“You’d be smart not to resist,” he said, speaking more softly.
“Would I?” Clover sneered.
“They’ll break your nose, knock your teeth out.”
“You think I care about my nose or my teeth?”
“No, but I think you care about your life,” Bandolier said, glaring at her, “If you fight back, they’ll kill you.”
Clover’s eyes narrowed.
“And you would just stand there, while they-”
“Nopony’s going to lay a hoof on you,” he said, “I said I was bringing you to Canterlot, and that's what I intend on doing.”
“My hero,” she snarled, rolling her eyes, “You’re no more honorable than those royal pigs hunting us down. I’m only alive so you can win favor with your princesses and princes and lords and ladies.”
Bandolier laughed.
“I don’t serve Twilight Sparkle, or Lady Lavender, or any lords or ladies."
He rose to his hooves and helped her do the same.
Clover glared at him, warily.
“It’s glory you want,” she said, with certainty.
“If I wanted glory I wouldn’t have put on a black coat.”
“To protect the realm, then? You’re either a clever liar or a brainwashed fool. The Erased serve the realm as much as the sun shines in the Icehearth. You’re a low-rate bunch of cowards, who watch on while thousands suffer and never lift a hoof, unless there’s something to profit from.”
They were walking beside each other now, over roots and patches of moss that crawled along the forest. Clover stood half-a-head shorter than him, her dress ripped at the bottom, snagging on twigs and sticks as she went.
“That’s all rich, coming from a cutthroat.”
“I’m not a cutthroat.”
Bandolier shook his head, unconvinced.
Clover narrowed her eyes, and suddenly appeared distressed. She brushed her raven-dark mane from her left eye.
“If they do find us,” she said, “Be smart for once and don’t wait for me. I’m all they want.”
Bandolier glanced down at her. His beard itched, and there were scratches all along his cheeks.
“They’re going to kill me. And first they’ll…” she said, her voice trailing away and her eyes losing themselves into nothing.
“Kill you. For what?” Bandolier asked.
Clover bit her lip.
“Loose ends.”
Bandolier glared at her, and he recalled the bronze-helmeted lieutenant from last night, and the words that had come oozing from his mouth, those words that he could not understand at first.
Her highness sends her regards.
Ponyville had become something of a dreary place.
Few even dared to leave their homes anymore, except for a quick run for food and supplies. And where supplies began to dwindle, hope suffered even worse.
“I’ve told you not to speak of it again.”
The Deputy had his blue-brimmed cover sitting on the oak, his steely blue eyes half-open, his stubbly face darkened by restless shadow.
Marjorine had flour stains on her apron and her tattered blue dress, her curly locks of red bouncing behind her neck. She was leaning by the sink, her legs were weak.
“The Twinkles move out tomorrow,” she said. Her voice was strained, as if a sickness had her by the throat, “The Cakes may leave too. They haven’t had more than two customers a day now, I’m told.”
Holster glared at her. His eyes were dark like a midnight sea, and when his anger showed, so did the hard lines on his face.
“This is our home. We’re not going anywhere.”
Marjorine rose to her hooves, approaching him with tears in her eyes.
“You’re not safe here. We’re not safe here. Starlight Glimmer knows this town. She’ll be back. She’ll burn everything to the ground.”
“I don’t believe those stories.”
“No? She was always in another world. We doomed ourselves when we first took her in. Have you forgotten?”
“I don’t believe it,” he said again, “And it hardly matters. Starlight Glimmer. That red pegasus with the scars on his face. Whichever wretch is behind all of this, they’ll be a fool to come back here. This time we’ll be ready for them.”
“You’ve lost your mind. Put aside your pride, for once, and think about her,” Marjorine said, glancing up at the stairs.
“The schools have been closed for months. She hasn’t seen her friends since before this all started. She’s been cooped up in that room all this time. It isn’t right.”
“And still she’ll be less happy anywhere else.”
“Don’t pretend that you care for her happiness,” Marjorine spat, “...Let’s leave. All of us. While we can.”
Holster shook his head.
From the stairs, another pair of ears was listening in. A girl hardly old enough for middle school, with a pale tan coat and a head of bouncy brown curls, that touched her shoulders. She had grey eyes, that welled with tears each time she heard her mother and father argue with one another.
Marjorine had left the room, storming off to wipe away tears by her lonesome.
“Father,” came Juno, trotting down the stairs with soft steps.
Holster rose from his chair, rubbing at the crows feet by his eyes.
“You should be in bed,” he said, though he was relieved to see her. She rushed in to embrace him, and his hoof slowly found its way to her head of cinnamon curls.
“Father, why do we have to stay?” she asked.
“You’ve been eavesdropping. What have I told you about-”
“Why do we have to stay?” she said again.
Holster gave a great sigh, and forced her from him. He bent down beside her.
“We’re needed here. Our friends need ourhelp.”
“But the bad pony is going to come back,” she said, her lips quivering.
“Yes. And who will stop her, if we flee?”
Juno was not sure.
“But you can’t stop her. Nopony can stop her. Except the princess!” Juno exclaimed.
Holster’s smile was warm, and it put her at ease.
“Maybe so. But the princess isn’t here, is she?”
“But…Father, she’s going to kill us. She’s going to kill mother. And me. And you,” Juno said, and she had long stopped trying to hide her tears.
“Don’t even think it,” he said, and he reached to hold her beside him. She fell apart in her grasp, and her whimpering cries were enough to soften his bitter blue glare.
“I want you to pack your things,” Holster said.
Juno wiped her eyes.
“But you said-”
“Go. Quickly now.”
Juno’s smile burst on her face, elated. She scurried off back up the stairs. Holster rose to his hooves, and his smile faded until she was back upstairs.
The city lights died before the first corner, as did the rain, and there was where the whisperings and distant cries or shots or cracks screeched the loudest. The streets were nearly empty in the dead of night. Blondie thought it wiser to travel by under cover of darkness. Crozer's hideaway was not too far, though at every passing alleyway, there remained a chance of ambush.
They trotted along the edge of soot-shodden buildings, red rust and grey grime seeping from the old bricks like sand in the wind.
Rainbow’s hairs stood tall, and her flesh was cold. Blondie was her guide to this void, that stunk of rot and smoke. Brandy was stuck between them, struggling to keep up with her mangled limp.
"What has Crozer got on you two, anyway? Some bit of blackmail? Bits?"
"Both," Blondie said, bluntly.
"I hope it's worth it, then," Brandy retorted.
"From what I've been told, you put yourself in this situation," Blondie said.
"Put myself-....You're off. Way off. I finally had my chance to get out of there, to cut myself loose. So I ran. You'd have done the same, if you could've. He's a monster.
"About that case," Rainbow said, glancing up at Blondie, "Did you hear what Trench had said back there? Something about what happened in Ponyville."
Blondie was not sure what she had, while Brandy scoffed under her breath.
"You must know what he meant, right?" Rainbow asked, hopeful that her trip to Manehattan hadn't been in vain, after all.
Brandy sighed.
"The case came out of Canterlot first. Then some high-profile creatures take an interest in it. Posh Paramount, the dragon empress, the changeling, the lot of them, they were cutting deals under the table. They were the original buyers. Talked a lotta talk about draining the swamp, and razing it all and starting over. Bunch of freaks. Now they've lost their heads, along with their bid, and now who knows where the case will end up."
"....What the hell is in that case?" Rainbow demanded.
"Hell if I know," Brandy laughed, "I meant to ask the scientist that, before he croaked."
Rainbow glanced up at Blondie.
"Whoever killed Ember and the others, they must have wanted the case for themself?" Rainbow wondered.
"It's never that simple," Blondie dismissed.
"...Whatever happened, we can't let that case fall into the wrong hooves."
Blondie scoffed.
"Death follows that case wherever it goes, Dash."
Rainbow ignored him, as a fire returned to her. She had her lead, her very first lead since Twilight's goose chase began.
"Stop right there!" barked a voice from behind them, shattering Rainbow's brief moment of triumph.
Blondie froze and spun around, as did Rainbow. while Brandy cowered behind them.
There were four ponies facing them on the sidewalk.
Three wore royal guard armor. Two were stallions, both with tired eyes and spears resting nearby. The other, the one who had yelled, was a mare, between deep velvet and blood red in color, with a spiky mane of hot magenta. She had eyes like a serpent, and a horn that glowed red.
The other pony Blondie recognized - a thug in a grey coat he had seen in the Underground’s lair.
"That's them?" muttered Redshift.
The pony meekly nodded his head, at the prodding of one guard's spear.
"Scram," Redshift barked, and the pony did not need to be told twice.
"You never said the royal guard was a part of this," Rainbow said, glaring at Brandy.
"I didn't know!" Brandy replied, terrified.
They were caught against a red brick building and a large patch of dirt that covered most of the sidewalk, where dead rats lay strewn about.
“That’s Rainbow Dash,” said one of the guards, his eyes lighting up in alarm, reaching for his spear.
“Yes. I too have eyes,” Redshift said, snidely, “You’re a long way from home, Wonderbolt.”
“You will be too, when you’re rotting in Tartarus. Just wait until I tell Twilight what her little minions are really up to," Rainbow replied.
Redshift snickered.
“I came here for Suri Polomare. Seems the city didn’t agree with her. But I guess I won't be going home empty-hooved, after all. You're the girl,” Redshift said, centering in on Brandy, "The girl with the secret. Princess Twilight's been meaning to speak with you."
From across the street, more royal guards had begun to emerge, crawling out from the dark like ants from their pit.
“The Wonderbolts will be needing to fill a new vacancy,” Redshift grinned.
Rainbow grabbed a hold of Blondie, right before he could lunge for Redshift’s throat.
Redshift's horn's glowed red, and before any of them could prepare, a fiery beam of energy came surging out, hitting its intended target dead-center.
Brandy soon found herself encased in a magical fluid, strung along to Redshift's horn like a fishing pole.
Brandy shrieked once she flew off her hooves, as she was dragged down the sidewalk towards Redshift.
"Brandy!" Rainbow yelled, dodging another blast of magic. She tackled Rainbow to the ground in the process, sparing him from taking a spear to the chest.
Blondie growled as he staggered back to his hooves, meaning to run back for Brandy, who had disappeared behind the wall of royal guards.
The mass of guards began their march towards the two. Rainbow lifted Blondie off behind her, away back into the street. "We've got to go, Blondie, we can't take them," Rainbow yelled. Blondie fought against her, pulling himself free from her grasp.
Rainbow meant to reach for him, before another group of royal guards began to swarm her.
Blondie shoved one guard out of his face and broke off towards where Redshift had been, only to find she and Brandy had disappeared.
Distraught, Blondie blind-sided by a royal guard's gauntlet, sending him teetering backwards towards the edge of a short bridge.
"Blondie!" was the last thing he heard, before he slipped off the edge, spinning over upside down and toppling off into the air. He let out a short cry of surprise, before his world turned black.
The snows were more forgiving, the morning they left the icy gates of Rhinefrost, returning to the white void where nothing grew and nothing stirred.
“We can find passage to the capital in Duskdale. Ten miles,” Callidus said, marching at the front of the pack.
“And once we get there? Everypony in Canterlot will know what we look like,” Lightning Dust said.
“My parents had a home in Canterlot,” Wallflower said, “If it’s still abandoned, we could try hiding out there.”
“Better than rotting in some alleyway,” Sunset said.
Kickstart stayed with Scootaloo in the back, making sure she wouldn’t trip and crash into the snow. She had a habit of clumsiness.
“Are you sure about those two?” Sunset muttered to Lightning at the front.
“...I don’t know. They helped me, and if they were going to turn us in, they could’ve done it by now,” Lightning pointed out.
Sunset was not convinced, even less so of their changeling companion.
"Hey, I'm...sorry if I was too hard on you earlier," Sunset said, glancing at Lightning. Lightning seemed ready to cry, but chose instead to smile.
"Don't worry about it. You were right anyway. I was gonna run off," Lightning confessed, "But I...I think I want to give friends a try."
Sunset smiled back, before her eyes drifted over to Callidus ahead of them.
"Just be careful about who you call friends," Sunset advised.
“Your misgivings are in vain, Sunset Shimmer,” Callidus laughed, sensing her staring at him from behind.
“You left your own kind to help us. Why?” Sunset asked, raising her voice.
“My own kind? We may be a hive, but most of the changelings can’t stand each other. The Clypeans hate the Calypters. The Calypters hate the Sterna. Everyone hates the Spiracles,” Callidus said.
“What’s in this for you?” Sunset asked.
Callidus flinched, as if he was grieved to speak.
“We never had a king like Thorax, in my lifetime at least. Chrysalis would send us all to our deaths if it meant her winning the war against ponykind. Thorax was different. He was someone we could believe in, someone who we chose to lead us. Your princess murdered him. For what, I don’t know. I don’t care either. She’ll pay for what she did,” Callidus said, gritting his spiky teeth.
“You’re talking about Twilight?” came Scootaloo. None of the others had noticed the filly climb her way to the front to listen in.
“Scootaloo...” Lightning began.
“That’s who you think did it?” Scootaloo said, horrified.
“I know it’s hard to hear,” Lightning said, although she had no idea herself. But she trusted Starlight, for what it was worth.
“You’re all insane!” Scootaloo wailed, “You’re horrible! And there’s no point in trying anyway, nopony alive could defeat Twilight! She’s Princess of Equestria!”
“She hasn’t impressed me so far,” Sunset said.
“Neither have you.”
The six of them snapped to attention. There was a pony standing in their way, dressed in a warm raspberry coat, with a large pair of black goggles stuck over her eyes. She seemed to have materialized right out of thin air; no one had noticed her blocking the path until now.
Sunset’s horn was set ablaze. She shoved Callidus out of her way, aiming straight for Bon Bon’s head. That gash in her head still stung - she had a score to settle.
“Wait,” Bon Bon said, removing her goggles. Her eyes were red, as if she had been crying, “Don’t.”
Bon Bon raised her hooves in the air, briefly.
“I didn’t come to fight.”
“No? Better to die quickly, then?” Sunset said.
Bon Bon shook her head. Kickstart had joined Sunset’s side, as had Callidus and Lightning, readying themselves to take on the pony waiting in their way.
“Twilight Sparkle found me a week ago. She ordered me to bring her Starlight Glimmer. And her friends.”
“Pity you’ve found them,” Sunset said.
“She took the pony closest to me,” Bon Bon said, “She was going to murder her if I didn’t do as she said.”
Sunset lowered her horn, subtly.
“That sounds about right,” Lightning muttered.
“She thinks I let you escape," Bon Bon said, "She thinks I was helping you.”
“So now you’re here to prove her right?” Sunset asked.
Bon Bon narrowed her eyes.
“Twilight Sparkle murdered the pony I loved. She took everything I had away from me,” Bon Bon said, with a grim severity, “You want her dead, don’t you?”
Sunset glanced at Lightning.
Bon Bon’s eyes were hollow, and her flesh was as pale as the snow.
She dreamt of a leaden winter, desperate heartbeats drowned out beneath a choir of sirens’ screams. A gory grip had laid waste to the night, dragging its black cloak to scatter the stars to faraway voids.
She was a spectator for it all, the desolation wrought by a faceless figure, whose presence was only made known in its cruelty. Every silenced cry, every burning red shriek, every iron crack of grating chains, made her wince and tremble, but she was frozen in place.
She awoke soaked in sweat.
Glancing at the alarm clock sitting idly by on her barrack nightstand, Starlight was relieved to know the morning was still ways away.
But she could not go back to sleep, even if she had wanted to. She gave way to a muddled moan as she shifted out of her sheets, taking care not to make too much noise.
She was not entirely sure how to escape the Erased’s underground headquarters, their sunken lair discreetly hidden beneath the streets of Canterlot.
Passing through the barracks, Starlight could make out the exhausted faces of several Erased agents drooling over their grey sack pillows. She could even make out Rarity, who was given the luxury of her own barrack bed despite being an unofficial prisoner. It had only taken a full day of whining and complaining to earn it, but a privilege it remained. Starlight pitied Rarity, and thought of saying goodbye, but dared not interrupt her beauty sleep.
And there was Trixie by the end of the barracks, or, rather, where she was supposed to be.
Starlight swiveled her head to the doorway of the barracks, where Trixie was waiting.
Starlight sighed and stepped out of the barracks, joining Trixie in the corridor outside. The door slid close, leaving the two unicorns beneath a dull blue fluorescent spotlight.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Trixie demanded.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?” Starlight replied.
Trixie’s eyes widened, stunned.
“Stopping you from making a mistake, that’s what.”
Starlight couldn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.
“You’re trying to leave. You want to head out there, and confront her.”
“We can't wait any longer. What did you think we came to this city to do, exactly?” Starlight said.
“We were supposed to wait for the others, remember?” Trixie said.
“She'll catch them before they make it here, and she'll catch us too, if we stay in one place too long," Starlight said, "I have to draw her out, somehow, out of the city, or else ponies will get hurt..."
“I know Twilight was your friend, I know how much you care about her. But think for a second. Everypony loves her. They always have,” Trixie said, enviously, “But she can’t deceive them all forever. Lies catch up to all of us.”
“Twilight happens to be a bit smarter than all of us.”
“You can’t stop her alone. She’s an alicorn princess. You can’t just stroll up to her and give it your best shot. Have you got a death wish?”
“OK. What would you have me do?” Starlight demanded.
“Equestria still thinks of her as a hero, and you a criminal. Say you do somehow pull it off, against all odds. Everypony from Southstock to Cloudsdale will be spitting on your grave for generations, mourning their precious princess, cursing the monster that cut her reign short.”
“And they’ll be safe from whatever Twilight is planning. It doesn’t matter what happens to me. I don’t matter,” Starlight said, her voice cracking, “I don’t know whether any of what Twilight taught me is true anymore. But I know I have a responsibility. I don’t care if I don’t stand a chance. I have to try.”
Trixie noticed Starlight crumble beneath her words, and backed off slightly.
“There was a time not so long ago, when I wasn't sure I should have stuck around any longer. I knew what kind of things I was doing to other ponies, I knew it was wrong. And I did it anyways. I hurt ponies, I took years of their lives away. Because I couldn't figure out my own problems. I had nothing to offer to anypony, other than more misery. Unworthy of the grand destiny I thought I deserved. Then a pony comes along who does what I thought was impossible - teach me something I didn't already know. She gave me what I was missing. She gave me a real life. She was everything I wanted to be. Somepony who isn’t afraid to fight for what they believe in, somepony who lives by what they teach. I kept on living just to be by her side. She changed my life, and for what? It's not enough to know she had a reason to kill Ember and the others, betraying us went far beyond her political ambitions. What changed? I have to find her, Trixie. I have to know.”
"At least let me help you," Trixie said, "At least give the others a chance. Or talk to Alias, see if he can-"
"I need to settle this myself," Starlight said, "I won't risk you or the others getting hurt, if things go wrong."
Trixie sighed, and sauntered over for a tight embrace.
“You just want Twilight all for yourself. It's not being noble, it's being impatient and selfish. Our friends need you a lot more than you need to get back at Twilight. But if it’s what you think is best,” Trixie said, mournfully, “I’m always going to be here for you. Thick and thin.”
Starlight smiled, and backed away.
“What would I do without you?” Starlight asked.
“Better to not think about it,” Trixie grinned.
Starlight’s smile grew, and she slipped off down the corridor, leaving Trixie beneath the pale spotlight, her eyes falling to the ground.
Darkness overcame her as the lights above flickered, and the grim ringing of the Canterlot tower bells shook the earth below. The sound became inescapable, swelling into a rise that made glass quiver and stones shake. The dawn had arrived.
A pair of corpses dragged their hooves on the stairs.
Redshift was patient from the tumbledown room, which was rank with mold.
She would not have been surprised if Brandy’s tongue had been cut out; the girl hardly let out a cough, let alone a cry for help. She had long given up on that.
At last came the two Undergrounders she was waiting on. Her two royal guards had carried their bodies up into the room, dumping them to the hardwood in a bloody, rotten heap.
“The third?” Redshift asked.
“Wasn’t much of him left to carry,” grinned one of the guards, who had a toothpick bouncing between his lips. His gums were all black, and his breath was foul for it.
“Lieutenant,” said the other guard, whose mane was pale blonde, nearly white, “What if more from the Underground come for the girl? Why don't we try working with them, huh? And take care of that Wonderbolt and her friend. We’ve butchered their boys, but they tried to jump us, they had it coming.”
Redshift glared at him, as if she was restraining herself from smacking him over the head.
“We don’t need the help of cutthroat alley rats. We have all we need,” Redshift smirked, glancing down at Brandy, who was so exhausted she cared little to even listen. Her tattered blue dress was soiled in dust and sweat, torn to reveal her hardly-healed cuts and purple bruises. She had once proven to be a pest, running her mouth to no end in an effort to irritate her captors. But since meeting Redshift, her attitude had decisively changed.
“If Snowfall wants to send me on a goose chase to catch that seamstress slut Suri Polomare, she should do it herself. This takes precedence,” Redshift growled.
“And the briefcase?” asked the toothpick guard.
“Not our concern right now,” Redshift said, before glaring back down at the corpses, “These two thought they could spy on us. More may get the idea. We’re due back for Canterlot. A good thing, too. This city was beginning to get on my nerves. And as for our little bird, we only need her to sing. The rest of her, I’ll be taking creative license.” Redshift growled, maliciously concocting some tortuous scenarios, “Twilight wants that briefcase to stay shut. We can’t let some Manehattan brat roam free with the key to opening it. Luckily she won’t have to carry that burden much longer, isn’t that right?” Redshift smirked, glaring down at Brandy.
Brandy glanced up at her captors, her eyes darting back and forth nervously; it was just as she feared. Nopony was coming for her.
Flat ale.
Even washing down his misery was miserable work.
And who were those eyes in the cobweb corners of old Hay Bale’s pub, where Blondie had stumbled in after a winding chase.
Brown eyes, green eyes, blue eyes, black. They were all watching him guzzle down his foul drink, they were all watching as he hunched his shoulders and kept his head hung inches from the bar.
The glass doors swung open to the nearly-empty pub, and in trotted a rainbow-haired pegasus with cerise eyes. She was out of breath, her mane tangled in the wind.
"I think we lost them," she announced, joining Blondie at the bar.
Old Hay Bale the bartender hardly lifted his head at her arrival, and neither did Blondie.
“I didn’t take you for one to give up so easily,” Rainbow said, with the hint of a smirk.
“You can cut your losses already. We failed,” Blondie muttered, "If we're lucky I can talk Crozer out of whatever he was planning to do to your friends. All I need is a little more motivation."
Blondie took another gulp of the drink.
“We failed. But she’s still alive. We know that. Now we’ve just got to find those lowlife chromedomes and steal her back,” Rainbow said, terrified at the thought of having sentenced her friends to death, "We're not out yet."
Blondie glared at her.
“This isn't the Underground anymore. The royal guard is something else entirely.”
Rainbow glanced to the side, as if to see who was within earshot.
“This has got to go so much bigger than us, don’t you understand? Did you hear what she said? About Twilight? She's involved, somehow. I thought it was weird, when Twilight sent me and Pinkie and Fluttershy on what felt like busy work. And now these guards show up.”
Blondie narrowed his eyes, struggling to piece together what Rainbow was on about.
“Twilight's your friend," Blondie pointed out.
Rainbow straightened up.
“I'd diefor Twilight, I wouldn’t think twice. But something feels wrong about all this. And Twilight, she…Something’s wrong with her too. Whatever’s really in that briefcase, it’s got to be dangerous. We can’t let it fall in the wrong pony’s hooves. We’re wasting time, we have to find the girl before we lose the trace. ”
“Does it matter? Wherever they’re taking Brandy, we won’t be able to follow.”
Rainbow shook her head.
“I can find them, in no time at all. Twenty seconds fl-”
“Alright. I get it.”
Rainbow smirked again.
“I’ll do that. You should find that giant of yours. The old stallion. Larger than life.”
Blondie glared at her.
"What the hell for?" Blondie muttered, "He left me to die. And he won't part ways with the case as long as he's still breathing."
“We have a common enemy now, with those royal guards. If we work together, and try to get Crozer to make a deal with him, everypony could get what they want."
"Everypony except Trench," Blondie said.
"Forget about him, he's got nothing," Rainbow said, "Look. If you’d rather just cry and quit and drink yourself to death, then-”
“I didn’t ask to be a part of this. This isn’t my fight. It never was."
Rainbow rose from the barstool, stretching out her wings.
“You need to decide whether you’d rather stick your neck out for somepony who needs it, or keep sulking here in self-pity. I’ll find you when I have a lead. With luck, the guards haven’t left the city yet.”
Blondie turned his attention back to his fourth mug of cider.
Rainbow’s hardened exterior softened, as if he had slapped her across the face.
She turned and stormed out the doors, and Blondie turned in time to catch her take off into the black swirling sky above.
He scratched at his stubble, took a great breath through his nose, and fought a twitch in his eye. Rage returned behind those emerald eyes, what he had thought was subdued. Finishing his drink, he stood up to his hooves.
Rain-grooves in the mud paved lanes for rows of ants and patches of moss, in the heart of the redwood forest. The moon crept from behind the Smoky Mountains, and starlight shone from the leaf-bound raindrops and odd night-dark puddle.
Bandolier’s eyes were fixed on the mist rising from a small grove lake nearby, while Clover rustled underneath her makeshift blanket made of her tarnished canary yellow dress.
“You should rest,” she muttered, her eyes half-opened. Bandolier was as still as a statue, his curly mud mane all a mess, his beard beaded with sweat.
She sat up, rubbing her eyes and clutching the filthy fabric of her dress.
“...You think your two friends made it out?” she asked.
Bandolier held back a smile.
“Is that you being friendly for once?” he snickered.
Clover blushed.
“Make the best of it,” she said, teasingly.
“It’s you they want, you said it yourself. Flamberge and Heels, odds are they’re sipping cider in Seaward Sholes right now, laughing at the thought of you and I starving in these Luna-forsaken woods.”
“...You’re scared, that’s it. Scared to die out here and not in a blaze of glory. I knew it from the start. You’re a glory-chasing, hothead pig who got suckered in by the Erased’s fairy tales of making you a hero.”
Bandolier snickered again, amused.
“I’d be a fool not to be scared. They sent Styles after us. Styles is no joke.”
“Another buckethead with no brains? What’s the big deal?”
“He’s one of the Nine. The best soldiers Equestria has, personally picked by Twilight. Headquarters has been trying to squash him for years. Ponies in his way don’t stay there for long. Twilight must really want you dead.”
“So, Sherlock, you’ve figured it out. You must be made of spare parts, for how long it took.”
“What, that Twilight’s the killer? The thought had flown past me before. But I couldn’t make sense of it. I was hoping you could.”
Clover bit her tongue, lying back down in the dirt to stare up at the stars. The rustling leaves swayed in the night breeze, obscuring much of the sky.
Bandolier glanced over at her, grinning in the dark. Her silence amused him. What loyalty did she still owe Twilight? Or was it something else?
Bandolier glared at her in the darkness, the distant chirping of crickets drowned out by the splashing of a nearby stream.
“Say we do escape Styles. Say we make it out of here, all parts still attached. What’d you do?” Bandolier asked.
Clover smirked, after pausing to think.
“Drink until I forget having met you. And you? Oh, don’t bother. I already know. You’d want to take down Twilight Sparkle. You’re reaching new lows I didn’t think possible," Clover said.
“Why not try?” Bandolier laughed, though he meant it with sincerity.
Clover shook her head.
"Everypony thinks they'll be the one to do it. Ember, Thorax, Novo, Posh Paramount, Filibuster, Bronze Beam, Blueblood....Try asking them how well things turned out for them."
Bandolier's ears perked up.
"What are you talking about?" Bandolier asked.
Clover eyed him, and sat back up.
"Not so clever anymore."
"Tell me what you know," Bandolier demanded.
Clover scoffed.
"Ember and the others had a plan. To murder Twilight. It was supposed to happen at the Summer Sun Celebration, less than a year after the coronation. They had a benefactor. Some exile from across the sea, someone who wasn't exactly a fan of the Equestrian monarchy. They got Ember and the others stirred up, promised them that their coffers would be full with gold, that their power would grow," Clover muttered.
Bandolier's eyes fell to the ground, struggling to process what Clover had said.
"How do you know all this?" he asked.
"....The pony I used to work for had a knack for knowing everything about everypony. It was a good gig for a while, until Twilight came along."
"Why would they only go after Twilight?" Bandolier asked, "Why not the other princesses too?"
"They might have been the next targets," Clover supposed, "Twilight was the greatest threat to their coup. She had to die first."
"How could she have known about it, to begin with?" Bandolier demanded.
Clover shrugged.
"Twilight has spies everywhere. And Ember and the others, their plot must have had deep-dug roots. Spread wide. Too wide. Something must have gone wrong. They trusted somepony they shouldn't have."
Bandolier shook his head in disbelief.
"That doesn't change a thing. Twilight's still a threat to Equestria," Bandolier insisted, "I need to find my friends, tell them, tell Alias, tell everypony. Before everything gets buried."
"There are no heroes in the story," Clover laughed, "You least of all."
"Somepony's got to stop her," Bandolier said.
“Twilight Sparkle is the most powerful pony in Equestria. She could rip you in half before you had the chance to blink. And you? You’re a nobody. A particularly loathsome nobody, who thinks throwing his life away to serve the Erased is some noble, selfless sacrifice. To them you’re just expendable. Sent to run errands and stay preoccupied so you don’t wake up to how fixed everything really is. Those heroes you want to be like so badly? They're just legends and fables meant to inspire the next generation to work themselves to death with a smile on their face. Lucky for them they’ll always have halfwit sods like you who won’t think twice about it.”
Clover could not make out Bandolier’s grin in the dark, though she could pick up on his dull chuckle.
“I didn’t take you at first for a spoiled cynic.”
“Spoiled?” Clover repeated, struck by disbelief, “I grew up eating moldy bread and drinking from dirty puddles in Newport. I’ve got no family, nopony.”
“And now you’ve convinced yourself that you’ve got to make the world pay. You wish you were some sort of villain, that’s it. It’s adorable. You wish you had the guts to push back against everypony you think’s wronged you. But you can’t, so you run your mouth and complain instead, comfortably indignant.”
Clover was fuming by the ears, though she never had the chance to respond.
The first crack of the dead leaves caught both of them by surprise. By the second, it was too late.
Clover heard a crack ring out, and turned to see Bandolier collapse to the ground, his nose bloodied.
“Bando-” she began, before spinning right around as three figures rushed out from the brush, tackling her to the ground. She screamed, terrified, while the three brutish silhouettes held her down. She could make out a grimy grin in the dark, before a hoof came down towards her head, and blackness overcame her.
Police tape painted in pulses of red and blue light stretched along the rails of the Canterlot Boutique. A cigar caught light by the hoof of Wedge Ward, captain of the guard, whose eyes were strained from camera flashes. The crowd only ever seemed to be growing, with more officers, reporters, and stray ponies gathering in front of the boutique steps every minute.
Rarity was missing.
Though Wedge knew Twilight would have preferred the disappearance be kept under wraps, neither of them had been prepared for Pinkie Pie’s struggle with keeping secrets.
He held his post by the door, alongside the grim Grey Wick and the persnickety Prickly Pear, all three clad in golden armor. Policeponies milled in and out of the doors, muttering in detectives’ ears and scribbling notes on yellow line paper.
The sun had risen less than an hour ago, though with the disappearance having just caught wind with the city populous, panic had seized Canterlot by the throat. Some spoke of the Ponyville killer’s return, others of an attack by the dragons. Nopony was sure which scenario frightened them more.
Wedge noticed the crowd’s attention turn back to the street. A carriage, complete with grand golden rails, velvet adornments and an ivory frame, stormed over the street stones, flanked on either side by four pegasus soldiers.
Wedge straightened up and glanced at his companions, compelling them to follow his example. The crowd erupted into cheers of relief, the moment when Twilight Sparkle gracefully stepped out from the carriage door, down the short ramp below.
Her guards forced a path through the crowd, while Wedge patiently waited atop the boutique steps, attempting to obscure his trembling breaths.
“Your grace,” Wedge grunted. His burnt brown mane fell in uneven strands around his horn, and his face was stained in stubbly shadow.
“Captain,” Twilight said, distracted by his lowly demeanor, “We should speak inside.”
Wedge obliged, stepping out of the way.
Twilight cautiously opened the boutique doors and trotted inside, followed by her four pegasus guards, and a nerve-struck Wedge.
Wedge began to sweat, noticing Twilight’s disappointment with the detectives’ seeming lack of progress. Policeponies littered every corner of the boutique, scored with yellow tape and chalk.
"The dragons have cut us off once again," Twilight said, sharply, "We've lost all trade and all communication. Might you have any idea why?"
"While you were gone, Venger reported an engagement with a cutthroat sent to assassinate Lady Lavender of Silkwood. The cutthroat escaped, but Venger recovered the knife that they used. A dragonsteel knife."
Twilight hesitated. Of course Wedge was oblivious that Clover was paid for by Twilight, though the knife was nothing of her doing. Was she foolish enough to choose it herself? Twilight thought, Or did somepony give it to her? Who would profit from framing the dragons for the murders?
Twilight blinked, and sighed, deeply.
"You should have waited for me to return."
"You told me to act in your stead. I acted," Wedge said, defensively. Twilight was in no mood to argue. Perhaps the damage he had done could be remediable, and if not...In any case she had more pressing problems.
“What have they found? Anything?” Twilight asked, glancing around the boutique.
“Less than nothing so far,” Wedge said, attempting to crack a smile.
“This is serious,” Twilight rebuked, glaring at him, “My friend’s life could be in danger.”
“If it’s not too bold to say, your grace,” Wedge said, well aware that a warning would not spare him the princess’ scorn, “Whoever the Ponyville murderer is, I don’t think this is their doing. This place is too tidy.”
Twilight ignored him, glancing over floorboard-dusting detectives and snapshot photographers.
“Rarity’s partner, Sassy Saddles - where is she?”
“En route to Manehattan. She left Canterlot the day Miss Rarity was last seen.”
Twilight shook her head, unconvinced.
“No. That would be too simple,” Twilight said.
“Seems clear and shut to me, your grace. I already sent for Twinkle’s unit to bring Saddles in for questioning.”
Twilight glared at Wedge, and his prideful smile died like a snuffed candle. She took two steps towards him, her eyes locked onto his in a steel grip.
“I’ve warned you before not to take action without consulting me.”
“Your grace,” Wedge said, his voice softer than before, “If Saddles makes it to Manehattan we may lose her. There wasn’t time.”
Twilight sighed and turned around.
“Luckily your stupidity won’t get in the way of anything, this time. Keep disregarding the chain of command, and I may have to find a new captain of the guard.”
“Understood, your grace,” Wedge replied.
“If Saddles was really some malicious mastermind who wanted to take over this little enterprise all for herself, she would have had to go to the furthest extreme to ensure that wish came true.”
“You mean-”
“I mean a more permanent solution.”
“She could have been afraid. She could have-”
“You’re acting as though she’d have done it herself. I’d have thought you’ve spent enough time in Canterlot to know vicious elites don’t fancy getting blood on their own hooves. But I know Sassy Saddles. She and Rarity are friends. Good friends.”
“What could it be then?”
Twilight wandered towards the spiral staircase, where Wedge followed after.
“Put aside the obvious suspect and we have to wonder what ponynappers would want with Rarity to begin with. It’s not ransom, or they would have made it known by now. It’s not glory, or they would have picked a more dangerous target. But it could be revenge.”
“She has enemies?”
Twilight reached the top of the stairs, and glanced down at Wedge, as if he had flipped on a switch inside her.
“A few of note. One so happens to be a fugitive from Hellhatch, still at large.”
Wedge’s eyes lit up.
“Suri Polomare?” Twilight wandered into a dressing room, finding only a single chair by the crimson curtains.
“Detectives haven’t been in here yet,” Wedge advised, though Twilight cared little.
She inspected the chair on either side.
“There are indents here. Faint.”
“Restraints?” Wedge posited.
Twilight knelt beside the chair and glanced underneath the chair.
She hesitated, noticing a scrap of paper taped on the underside of the seat.
With caution, she ripped the paper from the chair and held it in the light.
The First, it read, in handwriting that Twilight recognized.
'Not Polomare,' Twilight realized, 'Starlight.'
Using Rarity as leverage had never occurred to Twilight before. Hellhatch has brought her to new lows.
Twilight made her best effort to hide her contempt.
The note troubled her. A gaping pit of sins perfected in black ink, signed like an obituary for the lie she was living. Gone were the days of hard battles and happy endings. The Princess of Equestria had responsibilities, after all, which would have to take precedence over whatever dreamt paradise she may have preferred to indulge, to live by simple means in the company of her beloved friends. She feared it still, having to see her again, having to look her in the eyes. Nails drove their way through the grooves of her mind, tearing her apart, beckoning her to give in to despair and forgo everything that she had thrown her promised peace away for. And the droning heads of bloodcoated corpses sang their dreadful song, it echoed in her ears all through the day and all through the night. Some things could never be undone.
She glanced at the note a second time, then a third, and on the fourth her horn burst into flames, and the note evaporated into a thousand burnt specks of ash. But the words still rang clear.
Rarity was only the first.
Barreling through misty mountain tunnels and rivers of melted snow, the Friendship Express left the hills of Duskdale for the belly of the beast, the eye of the storm, Canterlot.
Few ponies were brave enough to travel as of late, with the Ponyville killer still at large. Ghost stories and fables of countless sorts had been crafted, each painting a more twisted version of the killer than the last. Copycat incidents occurred now and then, though such refined cruelty was a challenge to replicate.
The thought of such harrowing horror had wandered into Sunset Shimmer’s mind, lying by herself in the back of a turbulent train car. Her companions were her only company on the journey south to the capital. Sunset had almost forgotten the southern summer breeze, which waned as autumn crept ever closer. For what felt like an eternity, she had known only the dismal cold of the North, whether behind prison bars or evading capture.
Sunset had not seen what Starlight had, the gory remains of Equestria’s heroes, strewn about Twilight Sparkle’s hooves as if they were bitter discards. Sunset grimaced at the thought of Twilight, who had thrown her in Hellhatch long before madness made her a murderer. She could not sit still, she could not rest, while with every breath the train took her closer to her vengeance.
Snapping back to reality, Sunset noticed Bon Bon sitting by herself a few booths ahead in the car. Since discreetly boarding the train in Duskdale and claiming the car for themselves, Sunset had kept a close eye on the newest addition to the group. Between Bon Bon, Callidus, Kickstart, and even Lightning to an extent, Sunset made sure to remain alert; trust was hard to come by these days.
Kickstart sat by the front of the car, and Scootaloo was facing him, holding in her amused laughter while the scarred pegasus kept his eyes glued to the window in childlike wonder.
“You’ve never been on a train before?” Scootaloo asked, curious.
Kickstart shook his head.
“The world’s a lot bigger than I thought,” he muttered, dumbfounded. Scootaloo snickered.
He glanced back at her, still starstruck by the passing sights of snowy mountains, green orchard lanes, and rowdy rocky rivers.
“Imagine your whole life all you ever see is white walls and stale light," Kickstart laughed, overcome by a sense of relief to be free.
“...They never told you what it was like on the outside?” Scootaloo asked, cautiously, aware it was a sensitive subject.
Kickstart’s face hardened.
“If they had it their way, I wouldn't know there was an outside.”
“How come they got to do that to you?” Scootaloo asked.
Kickstart cracked a smile, having forgotten that he was to humor her childish innocence. He lacked a childhood himself, however, which made his attempts feel more or less artificial.
“Some ponies think they know better.”
Scootaloo sat back in the booth, groaning as she slid down.
“Is it true what they said? About Twilight?” she asked.
“....I don’t know. Sometimes it’s best not to meet your heroes, kid.”
Lightning Dust, who had been keeping Wallflower and Callidus company in the middle of the car for the past few hours, took the liberty of marching over to Bon Bon, the first to make any attempt at a proper greeting.
“Hey, I’m Lightning Dust by the way,” she said, extending her hoof.
Bon Bon begrudgingly accepted, prompting Lightning to sit down.
“Sorry if we gave you a hard time," Lightning said.
“Don’t worry about it," Bon Bon replied.
"We're all just a little on-edge, I guess. But wait until you meet our other friends, they'll-"
Before Lightning could go on, Sunset made her presence known.
“That will do, Dust.”
Lightning swallowed her pride and, shrinking beneath Sunset’s iron glare, scooted out of the booth to make room for Sunset.
Sunset and Bon Bon held eye contact for what felt like an eternity, neither one daring to blink first.
“You sure like to take your time.”
“If I still wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now.”
“I’m quivering,” Sunset said, rolling her eyes, “You’re not a royal guard. At least, you don’t look like one. So who are you?”
Bon Bon kept her mouth shut. Sunset scoffed.
“Oh, she’s bashful,” Sunset cooed, “Why change allegiances on a dime like that? What’re you after?”
“Twilight used me to get rid of you. I came up short. She’s not the forgiving sort.”
“A crown has that effect,” Sunset said, “What good could you offer us? The lousy assassin who got outwitted by a changeling and Wallflower Blush.”
Callidus and Wallflower both swiveled in their booth, each offended by the remark.
“You may have gotten away scrounging for scraps in the frozen North. But you’re in the south now. The game’s a lot bigger. You want to make a difference? I can get you the weapons, contacts, resources, everything you need to take Twilight down. She has it coming.”
Sunset raised an eyebrow.
“And how would you come by that?”
Bon Bon took a deep breath.
“I used to be a part of a top secret organization, tasked with the management and containment of substantial threats to national security. We were called the RES, now they call themselves Erased.”
Lightning, who had just started paying attention again, immediately turned to Kickstart, who was gradually drawing his gaze away from the window.
“What did you say?” he said.
“I said I used to-”
“She’s a blackcoat?” he growled, rising from his booth, his face hardened with rage, “She’s one of them sent to hunt me down! She’ll sell you all out too, you can’t trust her!"
Lightning met Kickstart down the aisle, preventing him from reaching Bon Bon, who had also risen to her hooves.
“Erased," Sunset snorted, "Never heard of them."
“That’s the point,” Bon Bon muttered.
“They took my life away. They did this to me,” Kickstart roared, glancing at the wounds adorning his body. He charged again towards a stunned Bon Bon.
Lightning struggled to hold back Kickstart, fighting back with all her might. Callidus joined in, while Wallflower nervously watched on from the booth.
Sunset, meanwhile, glanced back between the two, intrigued.
“I had nothing to do with any of that! It's been years since I left!” Bon Bon exclaimed, “I meant what I said. Let me help you. Please.”
Sunset’s smirk faded.
Scootaloo pawed at Kickstart, who was seething so hard his breath was drawn short. His fury could hardly be contained.
Scootaloo managed to reel Kickstart back to the booth.
“You keep her alive, she’ll be the death of us all," Kickstart said, "A blackcoat’s no friend of ours.”
“You think I want to be here?” Bon Bon yelled, her face cherry red with frustration, “Twilight Sparkle took away everything that mattered to me. She spat in the face of the life I worked for, the life I’d dreamed for. I’d give anything to be anywhere else! I can’t change the past. But I can make Twilight’s life a living hell. Which is what I intend to do.”
With a distraught glance down at Sunset, Bon Bon stormed off towards the back balcony at the rear end of the train car, slamming the door shut behind her.
Sunset glanced at Wallflower and Callidus, rising to her hooves.
“Keep him under control.”
Callidus nodded.
Sunset turned to follow Bon Bon outside, shutting the door carefully to not spin off the ruptured screws.
“Way to pull at the heartstrings,” Sunset muttered.
“I came here to be alone,” Bon Bon grunted.
“You and I want the same thing. Payback. Scarface may want you shot full of holes, but I like to think I’m a rare kind of merciful.”
Bon Bon glanced back at Sunset, wiping a tear from her eye.
“I don’t care what you’ve done in the past. Who you’ve killed, whose lives you’ve ruined. If you think you can help us take down Twilight, then it’s help wanted. But first you need to prove it. First you need to give me something.”
Bon Bon sniffled, attempting to calm herself down.
“Give you what?”
“Twilight likes to play dirty. I like that. Makes things more interesting. But she’s still vulnerable. Maybe not in the way Starlight hopes.”
“What are you saying?”
“I need to know what weakness to exploit. I need to know what distracts her, what clouds her judgment.”
Bon Bon slowly nodded, understanding.
“I can’t say I know,” Bon Bon said, to Sunset’s disappointment, “...But I know somepony who might.”
Faded cement paint pointed the path down the subway terminal, a winding pit of dark corridors and blinking golden lamps. Ponies huddled together along the steaming platforms, which reeked of sweat and oil. The distant howling of the train in the black tunnel drowned out the bitter silence, while ponies held their eyes cast down at the ground.
Salt Shaker gently excused himself through the downtrodden crowd, who were so weak and weary that they hardly resisted the giant’s approach.
He was accompanied by four of his former Black Hoof subordinates, three earth ponies and a pegasus.
When the train arrived, Salt Shaker stepped out of the way to allow the mares behind him to step aboard, before taking his own step inside.
The crowd filed into the car, packing it nearly to the brim. Salt Shaker elected to stand, along with his underlings, while ponies cluttered together along the seats and aisleways. Crying foals and sneezing old folks made it clear the trip would not be pleasant.
The train screeched into motion, the windows engulfed by the darkness outside as the train plunged itself deeper into the tunnels.
Ponies swayed against each other, their breath hot and heavy. Salt Shaker pawed at his grey beard, and his eagle eyes fell with a certain forlorn at the grim sight of the passengers.
But what Salt Shaker had not noticed was a pony farther down in line on the train, sitting beside some shopping bags and a pony keeled over, asleep. He rose up to his hooves, and without delay one of the standing ponies took his spot without a second thought. He recognized Salt Shaker, even though the giant appeared far worse for wear than he was accustomed to.
Some ponies began to wonder why the stallion was standing in the center of the aisle, staring past the crowd at the giant with the silver beard and an eagle’s eyes. It took Salt Shaker even longer to realize, around the same time his companions did.
Blondie’s grimace was enough to draw Salt Shaker’s attention. He turned his head ever so slightly, as if to beckon his former partner to choose a different moment for whatever he was planning.
Blondie’s response was to begin shoving past the aisle-bound crowd, his eyes still locked on Salt Shaker.
Salt Shaker’s companions met Blondie head on, though Salt Shaker waved them off, not interested in wasting time on a scuffle.
“My dear Blondie, you certainly haven’t found your manners,” Salt Shaker said, glancing at the crowd of concerned ponies.
Blondie took a step towards them, putting them all on alert.
“You should think twice before you try anything, Blondie. One more bout and your luck might run out.”
“You know where they took her?” Blondie demanded, taking care to keep his voice low among the traincar of strangers.
“I meant to ask you that. You had her right in your grasp, if I’m not mistaken.”
Blondie glared at Salt Shaker, struggling to restrain himself from lashing out. For whatever moral detriment his brash acts of violence had cost him, he could not deny himself that it felt good. “We lost her to a couple of royal guards,” Blondie snarled.
Salt Shaker’s half-grin faded, as if Blondie had finally caught him by surprise.
“We couldn’t handle them. They’ve got her.”
Salt Shaker nodded, solemnly.
Blondie noticed the anxiousness in Salt Shaker’s eyes, which darted back and forth in short sporadic bursts.
“...What’s in that briefcase?” Blondie asked, “Who sent those royal guards? The Princess? What does she want with it? What do any of you want with it?”
Salt Shaker’s face hardened, and Blondie quickly understood he would not be getting any answers out of the giant.
“...The only reason those royal guards would want her is because of what she knows. Which means the briefcase matters to them too. How long before they come knocking on your door, just to slaughter you all and take it for themselves?”
“It’s better for us to lay low. This game has gotten out of hoof," Salt sighed, "If the military is involved, there’ll be no victors for the likes of us.”
“Then help me get her back. You said you once pitied her. You know she doesn't deserve any of this.”
Salt Shaker held down his laughter.
“You still don’t know her at all, do you…Poor Crozer knew it the same as I did. The girl’s no different than the rest of us. Thieves and killers clawing at dead dreams. Yes, I pitied her - for the same reason I pity you. I’ve seen a hundred like you both, kids who think they’ll change the world, kids who think they’re destined for glory. Their stories all end the same. So’ll yours. For her, it may already be too late.”
“It’s not too late,” Blondie said, and he was arguing with himself then, “I won’t leave her to die.”
"Ponies die every day. What makes this one so special?" Salt grunted.
"Nothing," Blondie admitted, "But if I have a chance to change that, I will."
Salt snorted and rolled his eyes.
“Just because they have Brandy doesn't mean you've lost, no more than it means that she's dead already," Blondie said, "I can talk to Crozer, and the deal can go through. If I don't, you end up with nothing."
“The Underground still runs these streets now," Salt said, "A third of the Black Hoof is with me, another third with Crozer, and the rest are squabbling among each other. We only posed a threat to the Underground when we had our full strength. Now all I can do is hold onto what I've got. Which is to say, not much.”
“And what if the Underground was out of the picture? What then? Would you still be afraid to stand up to Canterlot?”
Salt Shaker raised an eyebrow.
“What are you proposing?”
“Send me to kill Trench. If the Underground loses their leader, you’ll have an opportunity to take control, an opportunity to pose a real threat. No more hiding down here in the sewers. Then once we find Brandy, you can make the deal with Crozer, and take a larger share than Trench ever would have considered.”
Salt’s grin returned.
“I grew up poor on these very streets. Fell on hard times, lost everything. So where could I turn but to the very ponies who walked all over me and my family for decades. Turn into the sort of killer I’d always loathed. I saw myself in you, when we met. I hadn’t wanted you to do as I did. I still don’t. It’s too late for me. But not you. You still have a chance at a life, a good life. Don’t throw it all away.”
Blondie shook his head, defiant.
“I left a good life behind a long time ago."
Salt Shaker sighed, and reluctantly came to terms with Blondie’s irritating indignation.
“Have it your way, Blondie,” he said, somberly, “Trench is in the Breton Hotel. I can spare ten ponies, too. But if you get caught again, you won’t be escaping. And there will be no more deals."
Blondie nodded.
“We'll catch them off-guard. As far as they know, Crozer's defeated and you've gone into hiding," Blondie said, "I do this, and together we rescue Brandy.”
Salt Shaker approached Blondie, who was dampened in dried blood.
Salt Shaker raised his hoof, right as the train car began to slow down for the next stop.
Blondie’s hoof joined Salt’s, and together they shook on it, right as the light above flickered with the train’s screeching halt.
Screeching iron and hissing jets of steam announced the train’s stop, beside the cluttered Canterlot train station.
“Keep your head down and follow my lead,” Sunset muttered to Wallflower and Lightning, who had each slipped into their colorful disguises. Lightning had on her fluorescent pink jacket, a loose black skirt and her beloved black cap. Scamper the rat could be heard squeaking in her jacket pocket, the place he had been calling a home since departing from Cloudsdale. Wallflower, meanwhile, had on her wooly brown striped sweater and a pair of glasses with the lenses poked out.
Sunset had on a black jacket, her mane tucked back underneath her hood.
Callidus hadn’t felt the need to don his pony disguise; the south tended to be more tolerant of changelings than the Frozen North. He had been waiting patiently by the car door, while the train gradually came to a stop, when Sunset joined him.
“Your friends, you think we’ll find them here?” Callidus asked.
“If they haven’t kicked the bucket already,” Sunset said grimly, “I wouldn’t be surprised if we never see them again.”
The doors swung open.
Sunset meant to step right out, but found herself frozen for a moment, when a pink earth pony standing right at the edge of the station deck caught her attention.
“Or maybe not,” Sunset said, stunned.
Suri Polomare waved hello, smirking as if to bask in her own success.
“It’s rude to stare,” Suri said, motioning for them to meet her below on the deck.
Sunset jumped down to the deck, inspecting Suri as if she assumed it was some sort of illusion. Suri grinned, showing off the briefcase tucked in her hoof.
“Emptied my burner accounts. Whatever we need, this should cover it. I've stashed more around the city. No need to thank me,” Suri smirked.
Sunset smiled, while the rest of the ponies in the train car exited onto the deck.
“Since when did you become a team player?” Sunset asked.
“Manehattan’s gotten worse, it turns out, 'kay? I didn’t think it was possible. I just got here yesterday, figured you’d get the same idea. Lucky me, you didn’t make me wait.”
“Have you seen Starlight?” Sunset asked.
“Suri?” came Lightning, dragging Wallflower out of the train car, dashing towards Suri for a one-sided embrace.
"Lightning Dust," Suri smiled, hesitantly.
“Thought we’d lost you! What’ve you been up to? Wait until you hear what happened to-” Lightning said, before Sunset shoved her hoof to cover her mouth.
“Suri. Anything on Starlight? Trixie?”
Suri shook her head.
“Nopony knows they’re here, as far as I can tell. I don't even know where they are. Their radios have gone dead.”
Sunset nodded.
“Let’s get out of here,” Sunset said.
Suri noticed Bon Bon, Kickstart, Scootaloo, and Callidus not a second after, glancing back at Sunset in confusion.
“Hurrah. Our merry band of freakshows has some new abominations,” Suri remarked.
“Abomination? Speak for yourself!” Scootaloo squeaked, trotting off after Lightning.
"Where've you been held up?" Sunset asked.
"A hotel in the Orange Light District. My fake IDs don't work on the new systems, but the District is five years behind the rest of the city. But you can't possibly expect me to stay there a single day longer. The accommodations are abhorrent. I'll spare you the gruesome details."
"You have my thanks," Sunset smiled, "Wallflower's got a place we can stay, but it might not last long."
"Neither will we," Suri muttered.
Kickstart and Bon Bon refused to pay each other notice, preferring to walk on opposite sides of the group. Altogether, they made their way into the city streets, spacing out along the sidewalk and keeping themselves in the periphery. Hustling traffic, stormy drizzle, and vendors’ shouts drowned out their whispers, though the occasional intrusive passerby’s glance was enough to put Sunset on alert.
"Ponies won't suspect us," Suri said, "Everypony thinks we're in the Crystal Empire. But let them stare too long and they may get wise. That doesn't happen often for Canterlot ponies, but we'd better be careful."
“Hey uh,” Callidus said, walking alongside Bon Bon in the back, “Whatever Twilight did to you, I’m sorry.”
“...Thanks,” Bon Bon said, softly, reluctantly grateful for his sympathy, “I don’t know why I'm doing this, I just…She can't just get away with everything. Ponies need to know who she really is.”
Bon Bon glanced over at Callidus, who nodded in understanding.
“What’re you after, anyway?” she wondered.
“Changelings like to play it safe. They hide underground until the storm passes overhead. I found out about Twilight. I tried to tell the hive, but no one would listen to me. Then I realized that all of Equestria was the same way - blind to the truth, whether they were oblivious or complacent. Everyone except them,” Callidus said, nodding at Sunset, Lightning, Suri, and Wallflower ahead on the sidewalk, “As long as someone is fighting for what’s right, even if it’s just a few of us - Twilight’s reign won’t last.”
“I hope you’re right,” Bon Bon said.
Farther ahead, Lightning turned her head back to the front.
“There’s an odd couple if I’ve ever seen one,” Lightning grinned.
“Next right. Twenty-first Ave,” said Wallflower, keeping her attention on the street signs. It had been years since she had visited her father’s home. Back when her father would still allow her to visit him as a filly, what felt like hazy dreams other than memories.
“You’re sure this place won’t be occupied?” Suri asked.
“My dad doesn't live there anymore,” Wallflower explained, “But he never sold it. It should be abandoned.”
“And what about Starlight?” Suri asked, "She may have been a bit scatter-brained, but she had more of a brain than all seven of you combined. When will I find a proper intellectual equal?"
Scampers the rat squeaked out a reply from Lightning's shoulder.
"Scampers is a safe bet," Lightning laughed.
“Here we are,” Wallflower said, rounding a corner and pointing at a dilapidated townhouse stuffed alongside some other half-standing hovels.
Suri stared at the house, blankly.
“I see you’ve finally found a sense of humor,” Suri said, "At least that District Hotel attempted to have some class."
“I’m serious! Welcome to our new home,” Wallflower said, proudly.
Wallflower skipped towards the house, while the rest of the group took a few moments to accept the resounding disappointment.
The door was unlocked, though that didn’t surprise Wallflower, as the house was barren of all furniture and draped in graffiti.
“Lovely,” Lightning muttered.
“This is like the place where the older kids hang out,” Scootaloo said, darting around the stripped-down living room, “Where they’d take pills and play music and…y'know.”
Sunset shook her head.
"Scootaloo. Do you even know?"
"Well. No. But I've heard that-"
"Nope. None of that. Go, get out of here," Sunset laughed, chasing Scootaloo off, where she ran to explore deeper inside the house.
Sunset waited for the entire group to file inside, before shutting the door closed.
“It doesn’t have to be flashy. A roof is all I wanted. It’ll work,” Sunset said, approvingly.
Lightning was just about to levy a complaint, though decided against it.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” Sunset said, “We can’t waste time, not while Starlight’s still out there. Twilight must know she’s here by now. That means she’ll be distracted,” Sunset said, nervously glancing towards the front window, “We need to start with weapons. Military grade. Twilight is in a class of her own when it comes to magic. We need to find out how she’s vulnerable.”
“Where do you propose we start?” Callidus asked.
“The palace. Where else?”
“The palace?” Wallflower repeated, “You want us to break into the royal palace?”
“Twilight won’t be holding back against us. We’ll need firepower. Planting surveillance would go a long way too. We need to build evidence against her, and learn what we can,” Sunset said, turning to Suri, “That equipment is what you’ll be spending all that on to begin with.”
“Everypony knows what we look like. What possible chance do we have of getting inside?” Lightning said.
“They know our faces. You two,” Sunset continued, glancing at Bon Bon and Callidus, “It’s your time to shine.”
“He’s a shapeshifter and she’s a spy. They’re perfect for the job. You two want a chance to prove yourselves? Here it is.”
“I’ll do it,” Bon Bon said, flustered by the prospect of being in close proximity to Twilight.
“I’m in,” Callidus said, eager to put his skills to use.
Sunset nodded, content.
“This is insane. Even for you,” Suri said, hesitantly.
“The rest of you will be making sure they get in and out without any problems. Got it?”
“And what will you be doing during all of this?” Lightning asked.
“I’ve got something I need to take care of,” Sunset said.
Wallflower lurched back in her seat, taken aback.
“What are you talking about?” Wallflower asked.
“A new lead,” Sunset said, glancing at Bon Bon.
"Wow. Thanks for clearing that up. We totally know what that means," Suri said, dryly.
“Sunset, I don’t think any one of us should be heading out by themselves,” Wallflower advised, her voice strained.
“We’re running out of time. We have a window, and it’s closing,” Sunset said, aggressively.
“You’re leaving us and you won’t even tell us why?” Wallflower said, “Suri? Say something.”
Suri sighed and glared at Sunset.
"We shouldn't be hiding stuff from each other, 'kay?" Suri rolled her eyes, "Oh for Luna's sake. Now I sound like Starlight."
“Do you really need me to hold your hoof all the time?” Sunset snarled, turning for the door.
“Sunset, we uh, we do kinda need you,” Lightning said, "None of us have any magic. I can knock a few into the dirt, sure. And Suri can bore a few to death. But if they catch us here, we're all goners."
“Starlight wouldn’t want-” Wallflower began.
“Starlightisn’t here,” Sunset snapped, turning back around, "She might never come back. She might be dead."
Lightning crossed her hind legs, anxiously. Suri bit at her lip.
Wallflower, struggling to contain her anger for once, approached Sunset with a contemptuous glare.
“You tell yourself you’re all strong and tough, when really you just like to hurt ponies. Whatever you're up to, you’re not doing it for us, because you don’t care about us. You just want to go out and take everything out on everypony else.”
Sunset scoffed, swinging open the door.
“Don’t lecture me on what I want. You’ve got your job. Weaponry, surveillance, evidence. We'll get more done if we spread out a little. I trust you can handle this. Do you?”
Sunset turned and shut the door behind her, silencing the room.
Wallflower and Lightning glanced at each other, neither sure who would be assuming Sunset’s unofficial role of calling the shots.
Wallflower glanced around at the others, and then recalled the assignment Sunset had left them, of such scale that she could hardly acknowledge its reality.
She hoped Sunset was not right about Starlight, though with every passing moment, Wallflower was forcing herself to come to grips with the possibility that the future of the group may depend on her more than she had once thought.
Glancing one last time at the shaggy moss-covered house address label, Sunset Shimmer still had a hard time believing this was the right place.
She wondered whether Kickstart was right about Bon Bon, that she had sent her on a fool’s errand to provide less of an obstacle turning in the others. She supposed she was getting ahead of herself, and marched up the stone steps to the front door of the house. A short wall of rigid grey bricks guarded the property, and coupled with the strange gothic architecture, it made for an eyesore in an otherwise cookie-cutter Canterlot suburb. The yard was overgrown, and if Sunset hadn’t been told otherwise, she’d have assumed the place was outright abandoned.
Sunset planted three square knocks on the purple wood door, which had the shape of a crescent carved into its center.
Seconds passed, without so much as a creak from inside.
Sunset made a second attempt, preferring not to stay out in the open for longer than necessary.
“Leave me alone,” came an irritated voice from inside.
Sunset rolled her eyes and knocked again, this time more aggressively. But, on the last knock, her hoof flew straight through the wood, and inside the house.
Sunset backed away from the door, right as it came swinging open. Behind it stood a slouching pale-cream unicorn with a scarlet and purple mane, much of her face hidden beneath a pair of black spectacles held together with tape.
“Just what part of leave me alone do you not understand? Huh? I’m trying to study. And look what you’ve done to my door! Oh, don’t worry. It’s only the eighth time I’ve had to fix it! And-” the pony began, snidely dressing down Sunset with all the contempt she could muster, “Hold on…Do I even know you?”
“You must be Moon Dancer,” Sunset said.
“Go figure. What’s it to you?”
“I’m Sunset Shimmer. I need to talk with you. It’s important.”
Moon Dancer stood up straight, and narrowed her eyes.
“Wait a second…I know you. You’re the one on the news! The one who-”
Sunset raised a hoof to her lips.
“Keep your voice down, four-eyes.”
Moon Dancer’s horn began to glow a pale lavender.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”
Sunset scoffed.
“You’d lose,” she said, igniting her own horn.
Moon Dancer flinched.
“That’d be a first,” she snapped back, yet relented and dimmed her horn. “...What do you want?”
“Let’s talk inside, if you don’t mind,” Sunset said.
Moon Dancer growled something under her breath and stepped out of the way.
Sunset cautiously trotted inside the house, which reeked of cat hair and old antiques.
“I don’t usually have visitors,” Moon Dancer muttered.
“I can tell.”
“Sit over there. And don’t touch anything,” Moon Dancer said, pointing over at the living room couch.
Sunset obliged, while her host left to make them both tea by the grease-stained kitchen.
“Bon Bon sent me.”
“Bon Bon! Of course. So what, you’re tangled in with the RES?”
“No. She’s not with them anymore,” Sunset said, not having expected Moon Dancer to be familiar already.
“Oh, that’s a relief. What a joke. What did they change their name to? Something stupid. Something like, ghost patrol, or, the shadow ponies.”
“Erased.”
“That’s it. That’s the one.”
When the tea was finished, Bon Bon sat down in her reading chair, setting the tea down on the coffee table and making sure to pet both of her cats lying nearby.
“So what do you want?” Moon Dancer asked.
“When was the last time you met with Twilight Sparkle?”
“Twilight!” Moon Dancer scoffed, “Months, I guess. Last time I saw her was at the coronation.”
Sunset studied Moon Dancer’s eyes, searching for any hint of misdirection.
“Bon Bon told me you two grew up together.”
“We did. Then she ran off to Ponyville. She came back once or twice to say hello.”
“What happened in Ponyville? how much do you know?”
Moon Dancer laughed.
“The royal guard, the EIB, and the RES - er, Erased - they all paid me a visit. Asking me to help crack the case. I turned them down. A bit too gruesome for my liking. If you’re asking me to catch the killer to clear your name or something, you’re in for disappointment. I don’t do favors.”
Sunset shook her head.
“Twilight wants me dead. She’s been trying, unsuccessfully, for weeks now. All for a crime I didn’t commit. I know her heart’s in the right place. I just need an opportunity to talk to her, for her to hear me out.”
“You want me to set up a meeting between the princess of Equestria and the nation’s foremost fugitive?”
“No. I want you to be my middlemare. Which of her friends might be willing to talk to her, to convince her to slow down and talk face to face?”
Moon Dancer hesitated.
“I don’t know her Ponyville friends that well…Not that they would even be willing to do such a thing. But her pet dragon, her little assistant. Spike. He’s a glorified secretary. Exactly what you’re looking for.”
Sunset hid a smirk before it had the chance to bloom.
“Spike the dragon,” Sunset repeated, “Twilight is close to him?”
“They were inseparable when she was growing up. Still are. Probably back in Ponyville. Good luck showing your face around there, though.”
Sunset nodded, graciously, and rose to her hooves.
“I’ll figure things out from there," Sunset said, "Thanks for the hospitality, specs.”
“Wait,” Moon Dancer said, right as Sunset turned for the door. Moon Dancer’s deep purple eyes haunted Sunset to her core, “You want to talk with Twilight? That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
Sunset smirked and made for the door, gently swinging it open in a cyan aura of magic. Spending so many nights waiting for the moment to meet Twilight face to face, to have that dreadful reunion, it consumed her. Her mind was restless with thoughts of what she would say, of what she would do, of how long she would make it last.
Her blood was boiling for a fight.
Light poured through gaps in the swollen storm clouds, billowing through panels of stained glass. Shadows seemed to move on their own in the corridors, and voices like whispers were speaking in droll tones that echoed through the storied stones. And those eyes, those bright blue eyes seemed to be blinking open and shut from the corners of her sight.
Twilight went with a staggered step, as if suffering some inconvenient inebriation or some grizzly wound. In truth it was a result of having gone days without sleep.
She stumbled her way along the torchlit halls of the palace until she found the lounge, warmly lit by candlelight, situated with soft satin seats and an unyielding bounty of delectable treats.
“Spike, I’ve been looking all over for you,” she murmured, finding her dragon companion sitting idly at the brick corner bar, chatting up the bartender as if they were old friends.
“Oh, sorry about that. Do you need my help with something?” he asked.
“You could say that,” she said, smiling, “I want you to head back to Ponyville, with Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie. I’m not sure any of you are safe here anymore.”
She had given Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie five guards each to stand outside their hotel rooms, though neglected to tell them what concerned her so. Starlight would find them, she thought, unless they leave the city now.
Spike scoffed, unafraid of this supposed danger.
“Whatever's got you paranoid, we can handle it," Spike said, "Pinkie and Fluttershy don't want to leave until they've found Rarity. You know that. We'll be better off altogether than split up."
Twilight shook her head.
“I’m serious, Spike. You're all in grave danger as long as you stay in the capital," Twilight said.
“Why should Ponyville be any safer?” Spike said, confused.
Twilight approached him, pawing at her darkened eyelids.
"I am surrounded by ponies who want me dead, and some who want ponies close to me dead. We only have friends in Ponyville. I'm giving you and Pinkie and Fluttershy and Applejack an army's worth of guards to keep you all safe. The closer you all are to me, the more likely ponies will want to hurt you in order to hurt me."
Spike scratched at the back of his head.
"They already know that, though," Spike pointed out, "Twilight, I know you've got good intentions. But you gotta come to grips that if ponies really want to hurt you or me or any of us...There's no place we can hide."
"I understand that," Twilight sighed, "But Ponyville is safer than here. Starlight is hiding in this city somewhere, as we speak. Her little friends won't be far, I expect. They're planning something, and until I know what...I want all of you out of Canterlot."
“Fine, fine. I won't argue with you. What about Rainbow? She's still running around Manehattan, last I heard.”
Twilight sighed.
“You know how stubborn she can be. She’ll get tuckered out eventually and come home.”
Spike sighed, glancing at the ground.
"Hey, uh, Twilight...I know everybody is a little on edge lately...Ponies are so scared, they aren't themselves anymore. But you've been making me worried. Scared even more, I mean. You barely sleep. You barely eat. All day it's meetings, meetings, meetings. And you don't talk to me like you used to. We're supposed to trust each other."
"I do trust you," Twilight snapped, before recoiling in shock at the roughness of her tone. Spike seemed alarmed, "I just....How can I make everypony happy, all at once? I have a duty, Spike. To serve Celestia, to serve Equestria, to serve my friends. So many oaths. But what if my friends put Equestria at risk? What is Celestia wants me to kill my friends? It's too much. The truth is that no matter what I do, I'll fail in some other way. I didn't mean to hurt you, or put pressure on you. I just....I need you, Spike. You're the only friend I really get to see anymore."
"Don't beat yourself up," Spike said, smiling again, "We're in this together, got it?"
Twilight smiled, and waited for Spike to rush over to embrace her. She held him against her, savoring each second. For those mere moments, she felt warmth again.
Spike backed away, and took a deep breath.
“OK. I’ll go find Fluttershy and Pinkie. Let me know about Rarity. If anyone’s going to save her, I’d want it to be me,” he said, grinning.
“Of course,” Twilight smiled.
Spike flew out from the lounge, after finishing his tall glass of cognac.
Twilight stood up from the bar, having meant to follow Spike out and retire to her bedchamber. But she found herself stopping short.
“Cask,” Twilight said, glancing at the bartender, “Take the night off.”
“Yes, your highness,” Cask replied, dropping a rag to the counter and collecting his things.
Twilight patiently waited for Cask to head for the door, leaving Twilight alone in the room.
Twilight’s eyes began to narrow, as the lounge door creaked to a close.
She became a blur then, darting across the room.
She came to a stop towards the glass wall, violently igniting her horn. The room came alive in purple light, and a specter in the air was revealed. A purple aura surrounded the shape of a pony, standing now just inches in front of her.
The pony revealed himself, his helmet and his black body armor coming into form right before her eyes. Twilight grimaced at the sight of the pony, squirming under her grasp.
“Alias,” Twilight muttered.
Twilight raised the Erased agent in the air and, in a sweeping motion, twisted his spine so far his body was torn in half, a gory mess of blood and golden brown innards spilling onto the scarlet lounge carpet. The pony screamed in agony, but only for an instant, before his two halves hit the ground, at nearly the same time.
“Invisibility cloaks, stealthbucks, they make for nice party tricks,” Twilight said, glancing around the room, “But I can hear your breath. I can sniff out your scent.”
Six more ponies revealed themselves all at once, encircling Twilight from every available angle.
Directly facing Twilight was Genever, his thin dark-brown mane hidden underneath his helmet.
“Sir,” he muttered into his helmet radio, “Orders, sir.”
Beneath the city, Alias stood at the helm of the subterranean control room in the Erased’s underground headquarters, amidst the bustling crowd of panicked agents. A large screen at the opposite end of the circular control room displayed Genever’s helmet’s video feed, half-static and shaken.
Trixie had just arrived to find what the commotion was about, and reluctantly had dragged Rarity along with her.
“Alias,” Trixie said, before noticing Twilight’s menacing glare on the screen. The room of agents suddenly drew silent, with Sergeant Genever’s newfound request. Trixie stood petrified.
“That’s Twilight,” Rarity said, relieved, “What’s going on? Could somepony please explain to me what’s-”
“Sir,” interrupted Sergeant Slick, adjusting his headset at his control panel, glancing up at Alias.
“There’s no going back now,” the chief said, regretfully.
Slick turned back to his control panel, panicked, and glanced back up at the screen.
Genever understood what the silence meant.
Genever raised his weapon first, and the other five followed his example.
They each opened fire, unleashing a barrage of magic-infused bullets towards Twilight.
Twilight ignited her horn, stumbling backwards whilst her aura shield was pelted on end by the six agents. The bullets bounced right off of the shield, to Genever’s horror.
“Impossible,” Alias muttered, distraught as Twilight endured a hellstorm of bullets.
“What are they doing!?” Rarity cried, horrified, “Stop them! They’re going to hurt her! Trixie!”
Trixie struggled to keep looking, and yet was mesmerized, revolted even, by how Twilight seemed to toy with the agents’ hope for survival.
Twilight’s horn ignited again, a thin beam of blinding white slicing its way through two of the agents. One’s head and a portion of his neck slid to the ground, and the other was cut in half right across the chest. Four steaming heaps fell beside each other.
Twilight dulled her horn and extended her wings, diving for another of the agents at an incalculable speed. She reached for the agent’s weapon, ripped it from him with his hooves still attached, and swung it back into the agent’s skull, cracking it open and popping one of his eyes loose from its sockets. The pony collapsed to the ground, his weapon firmly stuck in the side of his face, warping his jawbone and the surrounding muscle.
Twilight reached for the next agent, swinging her hoof so hard into her that she flew through the air over to the bar. Upon impact, her spine snapped backwards, forcing her to spit out half a gallon of blood while upside down over the counter, before sliding back to the ground, her torso half-ripped apart.
Twilight winced for a moment when an agent’s fire poked her in a sensitive spot near her ear, prompting her to ignite her horn once again and blast apart his skull into countless fragments, that fell to the ground like confetti.
And last was Genever, who was still firing his weapon right until the moment he ran out of ammunition.
Twilight glared at him, descending back from flight to approach him on hoof.
Genever threw his weapon to the side and reached for his beltbound knife. But Twilight was already upon him, having punched her hoof straight through his chest. She grabbed what she thought to be the heart inside his chest, and crushed it in her grip. Genever, even with the princess’ hoof buried deep inside him, managed to draw out his knife, and brought it down between Twilight’s shoulder blades. But, to his shock, the blade broke apart on impact, springing off to the side as it fell loose from his dead grip, a result of another spell cast by Twilight, who was amused by his effort.
Twilight drew back her front leg from Genever’s chest, now soaked in blood.
Nopony in the control room could come up with any words.
Rarity was perhaps the most dumbstruck, unable to even make sense of the carnage she had just witnessed. Her eyes were still locked on the screen, as she struggled to comprehend it all.
Some agents had their head lowered to the ground in mourning, others were still reviewing vital signs with foolish hopes that one or two had survived the encounter. They all gradually cast their eyes up to Alias, who was nearly speechless for once.
Slick glared at the chief with a certain contempt, for what his path of least resistance had earned them.
“Gin was a good soldier. Did his job,” he said, clenching his hoof, “Now it’s time we did ours.”
Slick was caught by surprise, as were the other agents, who had expected Alias to continue preaching against such brash action.
“Alias, there’s something you should know,” said Trixie, shoving past two agents to stand at Alias’ side.
“That Glimmer’s run off?”
Trixie lost her momentum in an instant. “You already knew?”
Alias glared at her, as if he was insulted she assumed otherwise.
“I wish she hadn’t. But now that she’s loose, we have to make the best of it,” Alias said, "Starlight's going to strike, and do it soon. But if they meet each other here in the capital, tens of thousands will die alongside them."
He was agitated, perhaps by his grief or perhaps by the suddenness of the situation.
“The princess is losing her composure. I don’t know if Glimmer will stand a chance…” her continued.
Trixie’s face fell, imagining Starlight confronting the unbridled fury she had just witnessed.
“But we can at least buy her time,” Alias finished.
“What are the orders, sir?” came Slick, eager to avenge his comrades.
Alias glanced around at the room, in a rare state of nervousness.
“...Release Subject C-55.”
Trixie glanced at Slick and the room full of agents, unsure what Alias was alluding to. By the shocked expression on all of their faces, she didn’t imagine it was anything good.
“Sir…Are you-”
“Do it.”
There was a moment of hesitation, before the control room flew into a panic once again.
Red flashing lights began to flood the underground lair, all while Trixie made her best effort not to crumble to pieces knowing what Starlight was walking into.
Static engulfed the screen, though Cadance’s eyes lingered on in defeat, staring off into the void.
In the command center at the 10th floor of the Crystal Palace, Cadance was surrounded by the agents sent by Alias to protect her, all discreetly disguised in royal armor. Her own troops had been dismissed from the room, as she still had trouble trusting even her own subordinates any longer.
“That was Gin,” muttered Eight Ball, grieving the last of the agents to suffer Twilight’s wrath in the helmet video feed.
“This was sent by headquarters a few hours ago. Chief is planning to retaliate,” Eight Ball said, and he was surprised. He didn’t think the old stallion still had it in him.
“What?” Cadance said, snapping out of her horror-struck daze, “No. Tell Alias to stand down.”
“The Chief’s orders are final,” Eight Ball said, “He won’t listen to me. And he definitely won’t listen to you.”
“So what? I’m supposed to sit here while you all try to murder my sister-in-law?!”
“Princess…you know what Twilight is," Eight Ball said.
Cadance shook her head.
“This isn’t the right approach. I know that Twilight’s good at heart. I know it.”
Eight Ball made no reply, though his silence was enough to make Cadance doubt herself.
She had no idea how the royal guards could stand it.
Draped in golden plates of armor and stuffed in a matching golden helmet, Bon Bon found it a considerable challenge to walk with the added weight, let alone attempt anything combat-related.
Callidus was ahead of her, having taken on a pony disguise. The two royal guards they had incapacitated were currently lying on top of each other next to a dumpster on West Vernon Avenue, and Bon Bon could only hope they wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.
They had made their way to the palace after retrieving the surveillance equipment Suri had specified: micro-cameras, microphones, tracking beacons. Suri had more than enough to cover all of it, packaged in a discreet crate the pair would be carrying right inside.
Marching up the front gate steps, Bon Bon made sure not to drag the back end of the crate, all while nervously glancing at passing guards to gauge their degree of suspicion.
Luckily for her and Callidus, the guards appeared to be in a fluster of some sort, milling about in disorderly droves and repeating orders into fuzz-muffled radios.
“What’s got everypony so spooked?” Callidus muttered, glancing back at Bon Bon.
Bon Bon shrugged, as together they carried the crate into the front palace foyer, an immaculate display of endearing antiquity architecture and sleek modern marble.
They skirted past stain glass and patrols of soldiers, whose eyes seemed to follow them as they went. Bon Bon kept her head lowered, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
“We’ll need to get to a higher floor,” Bon Bon muttered, taking care to keep her voice down.
Callidus nodded, taking off straight for the centerpiece staircase. Before the stairs was a crimson carpet flanked by two pristine statues of Celestia and Luna, molded in solid gold.
While trudging up the stairs, Bon Bon saw more patrols taking to arms, falling into neat rows and listening to the screeching commands of their higher ranking officers. They fled out from the corridors into the foyer like a sea of insects, doing their best to stay orderly.
They continued on hoof up four flights of stairs. At each level there were less and less soldiers on patrol, as if the lot of them had been drawn down to the chaos below.
“It’s like they’re on high alert or something,” Bon Bon said.
“Just be glad no one’s paying any attention to us,” Callidus said, dragging the crate to one edge of a spotless hallway, magically unsealing the top cover.
“Ventilation shafts, drainage lids, anywhere out of sight,” Bon Bon instructed.
Callidus nodded, handing Bon Bon a bag of the micro-cameras and accompanying microphones.
Bon Bon, who had once done this sort of thing for a living, proved to be exceptionally quicker than Callidus, who took extra caution to make sure he didn’t leave anything too exposed.
Bon Bon was nervous, frantic even, with the possibility of being caught. The thought of confronting Twilight again was all she wanted at heart, yet still she feared the actual encounter. The princess’ shadow seemed to creep up every now and then, stalking from places they could not see.
“We’ll need to cover the throne room too, and her bedchamber,” Bon Bon said.
Callidus hesitated.
“We’re going to have to be a bit more subtle,” Callidus said, having been surprised that nopony had caught them already, “We might be pushing our luck.”
“The others are counting on us,” Bon Bon said, covering the crate and picking up the back end, “We have a job to do.”
Callidus grinned, impressed by Bon Bon’s resilience. He picked up the front end, and together they took off for the throne room gate farther down and around another corridor.
Clawing at the scathed rests of her marble throne, Twilight could not help but grit her teeth. Eyes of blue peered down at her from the shadowy corners of the hall, and up in the rafters, and everywhere Twilight could not see.
What might Celestia have done now, she asked herself. But the answer never came. Celestia remained to her now only as a voiceless memory, a striving symbol just out of reach.
“Your highness,” came a mare’s silky voice from the other end of the room.
Snowfall Glitter had returned to the capital, as she had been instructed. The blonde unicorn with the icy blue eyes and the pure white coat had just risen from her knees, marching past the guards on duty, the grim Grey Wick and the boorish Prickly Pear.
“Lieutenant," Twilight said.
“I only wanted to make sure everything was alright, your highness. I heard reports of some loud noises coming from the third level lounge.”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” Twilight said, “It’s been taken care of.”
Snowfall could sense that there was something Twilight was not telling her, though knew she would be out of line to pry any further.
“I also wanted to report that Redshift is due back from Manehattan tomorrow.”
“Any success with Polomare?”
“Er, no, your highness. But she said she wouldn’t be coming back empty-hoofed."
Twilight nodded, seemingly aware of what was being alluded to. Snowfall, however, had no idea.
"You should also be made aware, Spike has left the capital," Snowfall continued.
Twilight raised an eyebrow.
"Alone?" Twilight asked.
Snowfall gave a puzzled look.
"Yes, your highness. Is something wrong?"
"He was meant to take Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy with him," Twilight said.
Snowfall shook her head.
"We were told that Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy left the city already, princess, ahead of schedule," Snowfall said, hesitantly.
Both of them reached a dreadful conclusion. Starlight.
“Your grace!” bellowed Wedge Ward, stumbling in through the throne room gates, his mane soaked in sweat, dark circles hanging beneath his eyes. The bloated, bald-headed Marius Moonshine and the twisted, thin Featherglass came skulking in after him, not unlike scavengers closing in on dead prey.
“What is it?” Twilight asked, terrified of what the response would be.
Wedge was out of breath, having run up four flights of stairs.
“Distress calls are flooding the lines!" Wedge said, "The Redwine Road, your grace, it’s been overrun!"
“What are you talking about?” Twilight demanded.
“A bugbear, your grace, it’s headed right for Seaward Sholes!” Wedge said.
Twilight rose to her hooves.
“This could be the work of the dragons,” Featherglass suggested.
Twilight narrowed her eyes, figuring an alternative scenario. She had assumed Alias would not stop with his measly surveillance efforts.
“Captain Virgil is leading the garrison out of Seaward Sholes, but they’re under-equipped to handle something like this,” Wedge said, “I can mobilize the rangers and reach the beast within the hour, with your leave.”
“I’ll handle it,” Twilight said, firmly.
“Your grace,” Marius said, “Surely we can’t take such a risk. This creature is older and stronger than the last time you encountered it. A fully-grown bugbear could destroy an entire city. ”
“There isn’t time to have this debate,” Twilight said, storming through the lot of them.
“You’ll have to move soon then, your grace,” Wedge said, “In a half-hour Seaward Sholes will be a pile of rubble.”
Twilight did not hesitate, continuing on for the doors. She eyed Snowfall. “Lieutenant. You and Hawkbit know your orders.”
“Yes, your highness,” Snowfall replied, bowing her head.
“Do not disappoint me,” Twilight said.
Twilight left her panicked council and the reluctant Snowfall Glitter, throwing open the throne room doors and spreading her wings. She wanted to laugh to herself, that Alias thought himself clever to be putting her to the test. Twilight found no use in massacring hoofsoldiers. Proving a point would go a lot farther in the end.
Challenge accepted.
“Terror strikes once more! The Equestrian Royal Inquiry has confirmed the reports of a bugbear of unnatural proportions westbound for Seaward Sholes. Evacuate! Evacuate!”
Wallflower lowered the volume on the dinky radio she had found in the top kitchen cupboard.
“A bugbear? I thought those were extinct,” Lightning said, lying on the ground against a wall.
“Everypony was going on about it at the market,” Suri said, having just returned with bags of fresh produce and water.
"What is this?" Lightning grunted, digging into the grocery bag, "Sparkling water? Yuck! Suri!"
"I suppose not everypony has as refined of a palette as I do," Suri smirked, "Why've you gone pale? Oh, how precious. The fearless stunt performer is terrified by a bugbear that's a hundred miles away. I took you for many things, but not a coward."
"I'm not a coward," Lightning insisted.
"Yes. I suppose you're too stupid to be a coward." Suri told her.
"I am not," Lightning rebutted.
"Yes you are," Suri retorted, "If a bugbear attacked you right now, you'd be too stupid to run away."
"I would not," Lightning argued, "I'd run away faster than you."
Lightning froze suddenly, scowling when she saw Suri's grin and realized what she'd just said.
"Alright, you got me. Enjoy your liquefied static TV, Suri. I'm going to go check on the kid," Lightning said.
Upstairs, Lightning Dust found Scootaloo in the old guest room, curled up in the bed beside a lit candle on the dresser. The room was relatively untouched by thieves and vandals, unlike much of the rest of the house.
“Hey, shouldn’t you be getting rest?” Lightning asked, poking her head through a crack in the door.
“I’m reading. Isn’t it always a good thing if I’m reading?” Scootaloo rebutted, waving her book in the air.
“Where’d you find that?” Lightning asked, trotting inside and taking a seat at the edge of the bed, which was far too big for Scootaloo.
“There’s loads of them. That lady’s dad really liked reading. What’s her name again?”
“Wallflower,” Lightning replied.
“I like her. She gave me an extra slice of bread earlier," Scootaloo said.
Lightning’s smile began to crumble.
“Hey, um…Look I know you want to help your friend and all, but…Scootaloo, this is getting dangerous. Too dangerous for you. I think you should head back home to Ponyville. I can take you there."
Scootaloo scoffed.
“I’m not afraid.”
“I know you’re not. But I am. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Like you’ve ever cared about that.”
“I know how I used to treat you, but I'm telling you now, I do care. A lot of ponies want to lock us up. You need to listen to me this time.”
Scootaloo narrowed her eyes.
“You said you wanted to make it up to me. For everything you did.”
“I do, but-”
“Well, you can start by letting me make my own decisions! I’m not a stupid kid anymore.”
Lightning nodded, softly, and rose back to her hooves.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Lightning turned to leave, half-expecting Scootaloo to have a change of heart and offer some hoof of reconciliation, but it never came.
Sighing after a failed attempt at building a bridge, Lightning closed the guest room door, stepping out into the hallway outside.
There were no other candles in the house to burn, meaning everypony would have to feel their way out through the pitch black.
Lightning turned to face what she thought was the stairwell, not before running into a stallion’s chest headfirst. It was Kickstart, though she couldn’t tell before he spoke.
“That didn’t go well, I take it,” he said, bluntly.
“I’ve never been good with kids," Lightning admitted.
“I didn’t want her to come along either. But sometimes I’m glad she’s around.”
Lightning nodded, though Kickstart couldn’t have seen it in the dark.
“She trusts you, I think," she said.
Kickstart grumbled something inaudible.
“What’s your stake in all this, anyway? Your friends want to kill the princess. But that’s got nothing to do with you.”
“Starlight, Sunset, all of them, they helped me out of Hellhatch," Lightning said, firmly, "I owe them my life."
“And you haven’t wondered whether they’re really on the right side of things? You give them your loyalty, but I see the way you all treat each other.”
Lightning hesitated.
"None of us really know how to be friends," Lightning said, "It's, uh, not really our thing. I know that's the case for me, at least. OK? You wanna know why I was in Cloudsdale, without them? I was running away. I thought I could start my life back up where I left off. But that life's not worth going back to. Maybe we don't get along so much now. But we might learn to. I really want that. I really want to get things right this time."
"Happy thought," Kickstart said, warily, "You might be willing to change. But that doesn't mean they are. They could drag you down to somewhere worse."
Lightning glanced at the ground, uncertain whether his words held merit.
A crack in the window caught them both by surprise.
“Stay with Scootaloo, I’ll check it out,” Lightning said.
Lightning stumbled off towards the stairwell, peeking down into the living room of the house.
Suri screamed when the soldiers had begun pouring in through the door, storming it down with two swings of a battering ram.
Lightning flew down just in time to kick one soldier across the face, sticking herself between a terrified Suri and the growing mass of soldiers.
How did they find us? she wondered.
“Where’s Wallflower?” Lightning muttered.
“She was just here,” Suri replied, nervously backing up towards the kitchen.
Lightning recognized the pegasus lieutenant leading the pack of soldiers. Hawkbit was his name, the one with the movie-star handsome face and the combed bark-colored mane. His grin made her uneasy.
“We have got to stop meeting like this," he laughed.
“Suri, get out through the back,” Lightning muttered, “Make sure Kickstart and Scootaloo get out with you. I’ll buy you time.”
Suri tore off without a second thought, while Lightning ran to meet the soldiers head on.
Suri refused to look back, rushing into the kitchen and searching for the briefcase with the remaining funds she had taken out of Manehattan. Only, to her distress, the briefcase was missing.
“No, no, no, that can’t be, that-” Suri sputtered, desperately rushing about the kitchen, searching for the vanished case.
Lights from outside flooded the house, as patrol after patrol of royal soldiers surrounded the building.
Lightning could only hold off so many at a time, and while the soldiers tried their hardest to overwhelm her, more were able to head up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Lightning recalled the odd scrap she’d end up in at Corkscrew’s Bar and Grill in Cloudsdale, while she swung her hooves like mad. She had one by the throat before shoving him into three others, and proceeded to punch another across the face, swinging his helmet half-around his head.
She shoved her way after Hawkbit, managing to levy three swings, two the head and one to the gut. Hawkbit proved more resilient than his subordinates, however, grabbing at her wing and throwing her off balance.
Tumbling to the ground, Lightning was unable to climb back to her hooves, while three guards piled on top of her to hold her firm against the ground.
"Stop! Let go of me!" she barked.
“I like the ones with a little fight in them,” grinned Hawkbit.
Lightning winced while she struggled against the soldiers holding her to the ground.
She watched on as Suri was dragged back into the room, her face bloodied, her limbs tied in chains. Suri was hardly awake while being dragged in like a sack of produce, though Lightning was in little position to do much about it.
Then she saw Scootaloo and Kickstart be dragged down the stairs, the two of them flailing and fighting viciously while being overwhelmed by the guards.
"N-No," Lightning grunted, struggling against the soldiers on top of her, "Stop! Don't hurt them!"
“Where is Starlight Glimmer?” Hawkbit asked, kneeling beside Lightning.
Lightning kept her mouth shut, not that she had any idea where Starlight was anyway.
"Feeling shy?" Hawkbit laughed, "That's OK. You might feel different when I start flaying your little friend there."
"Don't touch her," Lightning warned, "If you put a hoof on her I'll strangle you with your own guts."
Hawkbit laughed, standing up while riding the high of his triumph.
He nodded for Lightning to be taken away, along with the others.
Lightning resisted up until the moment they slapped the steel cuffs over her wrists. She cursed herself for having not fought harder against Sunset. She knew they had been betrayed. Bon Bon, Callidus, it didn’t matter which anymore. All that running, just to end up stuck behind bars again.
But, to Lightning’s shock, she found a pair of eyes watching her be dragged out the front door, not belonging to any soldier, but instead by Wallflower Blush, who was hiding in one closet off at the edge of the living room. Lightning did not look for long, not wishing to give away Wallflower’s position. Lightning meant to lambast her captors, though a baton to the forehead made preemptive work of that.
“It must really be our lucky day.”
Peeking in through the great marble doors, Callidus found the throne room completely abandoned. There were hastened hoofprints on the ruby red carpet that rode through the center of the room, as if some ponies had been in a hurry.
“Let’s be quick,” Bon Bon said.
And quick they were, with Callidus taking flight and placing several of the cameras up in the rafters of the throne room, hopefully out of sight.
“That should do it,” Bon Bon said.
“We should get to the armory,” Callidus said, “The sooner we’re out of here the better.”
Both of them froze in their tracks when an electric alarm began blaring out through every hall of the palace, shaking dust from the walls.
Bon Bon and Callidus glanced at each other, and neither had to persuade the other that they would need to move quickly.
Red light and endless alarm bells marked their escape, as Bon Bon and Callidus walked as fast as they could towards the palace armory.
“It can’t be for us,” Callidus said, frantically.
“Forget the weapons. Something’s happened. They might know we’re here,” Bon Bon said.
“You were the one who said we had to finish the job. And if they do know we’re here, it wouldn’t hurt to have weapons while escaping, would it?”
Bon Bon happened to be persuaded, continuing after him. They had brought the now-empty crate with them to avoid leaving evidence, and hoped that the armory wouldn’t be too tightly guarded.
They arrived at the armory on the second floor, only to find the door was locked.
“Have you got a key?”
“Why would I have a key?” Bon Bon stammered.
Callidus shook his head, struggling to work around a solution.
“Blast it open,” Bon Bon suggested.
“What happened to being subtle?”
“The whole palace is on red alert, forget everything else!”
Callidus’s horn began to glow, blasting open the handle to the armory door.
Inside, there was no pony in sight.
“Let’s be quick,” Bon Bon said, stepping in before him, eager to get in and out as fast as possible.
There were weapons of strange and lethal design lining the walls and ground setups. Trigger-activated rifles, horn enhancements, explosives.
“Sunset would have a field day here,” Callidus said.
Bon Bon got to work, collecting as many weapons as she could and storing them inside the crate. Callidus did the same, picking out grenades and laser devices.
“That’s enough. Let’s go!” Bon Bon said, stuffing the cover over the crate, hammering back in the nails.
“Got it,” Callidus replied, checking his shoulder as they returned to the corridor.
“In and out, that easy, see?” he added, helping Bon Bon carry the crate towards the center stairwell.
Continuing down the stairs, Bon Bon came to a screeching halt at the top of the centerpiece stairwell descending into the first floor foyer.
“Oh no…”
A platoon of guards was waiting for them below, spears and shields facing them.
Snowfall Glitter stood in the center, her face that of a disappointed schoolteacher.
“Would that be all?” came Callidus.
Bon Bon turned around, confused, right as Callidus shed his pony disguise.
“No,” she whispered under her breath.
Callidus, a delighted grin painted on his face, flew down below beside Snowfall, who could spare no words for Bon Bon, now all by herself.
"What have you done?" Bon Bon stammered.
Callidus slid back behind the guards.
The guards began their approach up the stairs, when Bon Bon dropped the crate, nervously trotting backwards. She shook her head, refusing to concede she missed her chance at killing Twilight.
“You released a bugbear?!” Trixie exclaimed.
She was right at Alias’ side at the helm of the Erased’s headquarters control room, beside Slick at the control panel and a distraught Rarity quivering behind her.
Alias paid Trixie no attention.
“You’re insane! You're putting thousands of lives at risk!” Trixie said.
“The subject won’t make it to Seaward Sholes before Twilight catches it.”
“And what happens then? If you think a bugbear will be enough to stop Twilight, you-”
“Starlight is going to need time to set up a trap for Twilight. But she’ll need time to do it.”
"You don't know her like I know her," Trixie said, "Starlight's not thinking straight, she'll confront Twilight the first chance she gets."
"She's waited this long for her chance, she can wait a bit longer."
“What if Twilight gets hurt? You’re all monsters,” interjected Rarity.
“Sir, Princess Twilight is nearing C-55,” Slick said.
“Turn on audio-visual. Prepare heat-seekers,” Alias said.
“Yes, sir,” Slick replied, flipping a number of switches on the panel.
Below in the sunken control station, ponies frantically went about activating the right switches and turning the right knobs, while a flashing red light made them all feel as though they were running out of time.
“News outlets are all over it, sir,” Slick said.
“Keep the field agents back until the smoke clears.”
“Heard,” Slick replied, nodding over to Hask down in the sunken control center, who was responsible for the Erased’s media plants.
“You really think your little toys can do anything against her?” Trixie said.
“This isn’t about defeating her. This is about buying Starlight time,” Alias said.
“That wasn’t really her. She was under some sort of spell, or-or something,” Rarity mumbled, “She would never.”
“Heat-seekers active, sir,” reported Slick.
“Release Wasp-1 at 700 yards advance to the subject. Wasp-2 at 600.”
“Affirmative,” said Slick.
“Wasp-1 airbound,” came agent Sugarcane from below.
The screen ahead of them came to life, displaying a green field of grass. Smoke from Seaward Sholes could be seen over the hills, over the shorebanks and into the grey sky rumbling in preparation of the oncoming southbound storm.
“Wasp-2,” Sugarcane continued.
“There it is,” Alias said, marveling at the massive beast clawing its way through the air at a lethal pace.
“Switch to Camera Six,” Alias suggested.
Slick complied, the screen blinking to a new image displaying the beast in its full grandeur, head on.
The bugbear was covered in wooly fur, matted and bloodied around its wrists and ankles from years of grinding Tartarus chains. Its teeth were sharp and huge like swords, and its eyes were blood red. Snarling and growling as it lumbered through the air, Alias knew the creature well enough to tell it was hungry for blood.
“Sir, Her highness is within 900 yards,” Slick said.
“Wasp-1 inbound,” Sugarcane yelled out, adjusting her headphones.
Alias kept his eyes fixed on the screen, unconsciously taking a step back when Twilight appeared on the display. She was like an ant compared to the beast, yet flew towards it as if it posed no serious threat to her.
The room was silenced when the missile came crashing through the sky towards her.
“Wasp-2 inbound.”
Twilight noticed the missile by its screeching through the sky, repelling it upon impact with a purple aura of magic. The blast was strong enough to vaporize the dust in the air around her, and sent her tumbling backwards, caught nearly unaware by the second missile barreling towards her.
“Negative contact,” agent Shortcake reported.
Twilight, after catching her balance, blocked the second missile by veering it away from her, though the missile was locked onto its target, spiraling around to make contact from the other side. Twilight sent a blast of magic directly towards it, exploding the canister and again sending her hurling off across the sky.
“Negative, again.”
Alias shook his head, having hoped that the missiles might have proved to be a challenge for the princess, though he was beginning to get used to disappointment.
Twilight wiped off some ash from the burn marks on her coat, and redirected her attention towards the bugbear, which still had its sights set on Seaward Sholes.
“Sir, spectators are arriving,” Sugarcane reported.
“Have the news report on,” Alias replied. From the display screen, he noticed the air balloons rising in the distance, some containing news reporters filming the confrontation, and some just curious civilians.
A smaller screen near Slick’s control panel began to display the Equestria News Network’s live coverage.
“Who put Bravo on front coverage? I’ve told Peaches twenty times I don’t want that moron on the air,” Alias growled.
“Er, sorry sir.”
On the screen, the news reporter with the slicked-back blue hair and the cream-colored coat, whose name was Bravo, was struggling to keep his balance aboard his hot air balloon, withstanding the cool breeze reeling in the storm from over the hills.
“As you can see, ladies and gentlecolts, her majesty is nearly upon the creature, which is still en route to Seaward Sholes. The Seaborne garrison led by Captain Virgil has-” Bravo had said, before Slick lowered the volume to cut him off.
“Thirty-four thousand watching right now, sir,” Slick said.
“They came for a show. They’ll get one.”
“Sparkle is in range,” Sugarcane cried from below.
Trixie and Rarity glanced back up at the screen, helpless to watch the ensuing carnage.
Twilight dove down straight for the bugbear, her horn igniting like a comet crashing to the earth.
She fired a beam of magic straight for the top of the bugbear’s head, meaning to slaughter it in a single shot. But the bugbear was more durable than she had remembered, and she succeeded only in disorienting it enough that it nearly lost control of its balance midair.
Twilight did not have the time to come to a sudden stop, and was thus caught by surprise when the bugbear flew up towards her at unprecedented speed, swinging its claw right for her.
Twilight grunted, being tossed through the air, the beast’s claw cutting a deep gash into her side.
The beast was already upon her by the time she regained balance, its roar so powerful she froze for a moment in shock.
Twilight dove out of the way of another attempted slash by the claw, and blasted again, this time directed at the beast’s underarm, hoping to discover a potential weakness.
The bugbear was hardly impacted, however, rushing to slam its jaws around her.
Twilight dove backwards up into the air, swinging her body back down into a running charge, while her horn ignited.
She aimed for the beast’s blood red eyes, though the bugbear was able to withstand the blast, guarding them with his arm.
The beast slashed at her again, this time snatching her up in one of its massive claws.
“Good heavens!” Rarity squealed from the control center.
Twilight squirmed and groaned while the beast’s grasp tightened around her. She could not concentrate on a spell, not while she had no access to the air.
Right as her vision began to darken, the beast suddenly let out an agonizing howl, as it stumbled out of the air and began colliding down to the ground, still clutching Twilight in its claw.
Collapsing through the air, the beast roared and growled and slashes like mad, helplessly descending almost a mile to the ground below.
“What the hell was that?” Alias said. Nopony in the room had seen what had happened, to the chief’s distress.
“And, oh dear, er, something’s just joined the spectacle, we couldn’t make it out. The creature’s lost its wings, it’s lost control!” cried Bravo from the news feed.
Alias glanced at Trixie, and he recognized the dread in her eyes.
Twilight writhed in the beast’s grip, though the bugbear refused to let go, even while it fell through the sky. Twilight’s eyes suddenly turned white in a flash of rage, and her horn came alive once more. The beast’s grip fell apart, along with the flesh and muscle from its paw, while Twilight’s horn incinerated a path to freedom.
“And she’s done it! Princess Twilight has won!” Bravo exclaimed.
Twilight regained control of herself in the air, watching as the bugbear collided towards the earth, roaring and slashing at the air all the way.
Twilight was still out of breath, having come considerably close to joining the bugbear in its one-ticket freefall.
Then the air began to shift. The storms from the north settled in overhead, and the first drops of rainfall began to dampen her coat.
Her eyes wavered along through the air, marking a grave realization she was unfit or unwilling to yield ground to.
Bloodied, bruised, and breathless, Twilight turned in the air to face the pony hovering several yards away, encased in an aura of blue magic.
Those eyes were never so real until then, she thought, while the unicorn remained speechless. Twilight straightened herself, gritting her teeth while pawing at the gash in her side. If she showed any fear then, it was for what she would allow herself to do next. They held each other’s grasp in the air for what felt like hours, while the Erased’s headquarters fell silent, as did the news reporters, as did the soldiers gathering below in the grass.
But Twilight’s mind could not drift away any longer, it could not fabricate the nightmare. This time the nightmare was real.
Dusk crept across the field of boiling blood, where the bloated black storm-clouds cast a faux nightfall. Over the faded hills, the sea grew restless, rivaling the booming thunder in its wrath. There, the soft-sand coast whispered warnings in the wind.
Twilight Sparkle held her ground by the bugbear’s carcass. The beast’s wings had been severed at the stem, blood having seeped out during its descent, scattered across the field. The bell-towers at Seaward Sholes were still ringing into the storm, droning on for miles. Twilight could make out rows of soldiers in the distance, approaching in a mismatched step. The storm warnings demanded the hot air balloons return to the ground, though the airborne reporters could not pull themselves away from the sight, even when drenched head to hoof and swaying madly in the grey winds.
Starlight Glimmer descended to the ground in a specter’s shroud, all but a few yards away from the princess.
“Luna be damned, what the hell is she doing?!” roared Alias from the Erased’s Canterlot headquarters, though the room of pencil-pushing agents was speechless.
Trixie shook her head. For all of the horror scenarios she had envisioned after Starlight’s departure, this might have topped them all.
“Erm, and I’m having difficulty believing what I’m seeing, folks, but a pony who appears to be Starlight Glimmer, has joined the fray. I can’t make sense of it,” came the static-stunted voice of Bravo on Equestria New Network.
“How couldn’t we’ve seen her?” demanded Alias.
“Glimmer was moving too fast for our sensors, sir…Orders?” said Slick, nervously glancing up from his clunky control panel.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Alias said, stumbling back into his chair. Trixie glanced at Rarity beside her, who was a quivering mess.
Miles and miles away in the Crystal Empire, Princess Cadance watched on helplessly from the top floor of her palace. Shining Armor was at her side, holding fast while she gripped his leg as tight as she could muster.
Ponies near and far across Equestria flocked to their radios and televisions, stopping whatever they had been doing, tuning into the live coverage with shaky breath.
Starlight paid no mind to any of that, however. Her eyes were locked onto Twilight’s, the two frozen in place for what felt like an eternity.
Those velvet eyes were colder than Starlight had remembered.
“Where's Rarity? Pinkie? Fluttershy?” Twilight said, breaking the silence.
Starlight twitched.
“...They're safe,” Starlight said, “Separated. Far from here.”
Twilight nodded. Starlight’s left hoof began to shake, and her lips were quivering ever so slightly. Twilight wiped some blood off of her face.
“Always one for a spectacle,” Twilight said, glancing at the bugbear’s corpse.
“You looked like you could use some help,” Starlight said.
Twilight’s half-smile faltered for a moment, and Starlight was made uneasy by the swirl of madness in the princess’ eyes.
“I’m glad we could see each other again,” Twilight said.
Starlight glared at her, dispelling such hopes. Her breaths were heavy, as if it took everything she had to restrain herself from lashing out right then and there. She was on the verge of breaking down into tears, and even Twilight’s hardened demeanor fell apart for a moment at the sight.
“You saved my life,” Starlight said, her voice breaking, “...You did. And I’d go to sleep each night thanking you in my head, for lifting me out of the hole I spent all my life digging. I never wanted to believe in heroes, not before I met you. All I ever saw were ponies using their power to step on everyone they could. I remember when you first came prancing into Our Town, I thought you were no different . But you were. I never thought I was worthy of the chance you gave me, but you gave me it anyway. And I thought maybe you believed in me enough to raise me up to be like you. I wanted that, more than anything."
Starlight’s face changed then, her eyes narrowing, her brow tense and enraged.
“And then you cast me aside,” Starlight said, “Everything you taught me, I don’t even know whether any of it was real anymore. You murdered our friends. You tossed me away like I meant nothing to you. Now tell me why,” Starlight said.
Twilight approached carefully, her voice softening more towards how it used to be before she donned the crown.
“...Were you to make an impossible choice - your friends’ lives, or the fate of Equestria - which would you choose?”
Starlight's eyes wavered, as her skin began to crawl.
"You were supposed to protect them," Starlight said, "You were supposed to be the best of us. They looked up to you. Don't waste your breath trying to tell me they had it coming, or that you had no choice. If any of that were true, you wouldn't have banished me, and you wouldn't have fought tooth and nail to keep this all a secret. You're the smartest pony I know, Twilight, but you still underestimate everypony else. Cadance knows about you. Celestia probably did too, I take it. Or is it just a mystery she disappeared?"
Twilight was struck by disbelief, shaking her head, regretfully.
"I know Cadance's mind. I know once we're finished here, she'll come for me next. And Celestia," Twilight laughed, "What do you know of Celestia?"
"What did you do to her?" Starlight demanded.
Twilight's smiled slipped off her lips.
"What did she do to me?"
Starlight took a step closer, fuming through her gritted teeth.
Twilight smiled again, tilted her head back.
"It was Celestia who began this all," Twilight said, gravely. Her eyes fell to the ground.
"Began what?” Starlight demanded.
“...If Equestria was ever to survive what is coming, a sacrifice had to be made," Twilight said, gravely, "I never asked for this. I never wanted you to get hurt, either. But things got out of hoof. I tried to-....I did what I had to do."
"Twilight..." Starlight began, slowing down to refocus Twilight's spinning trail of thought, "Where is Celestia?"
Twilight winced, and glanced at the ground, fighting to put together the words.
"Celestia was everything I wanted to be. Everypony was devoted to her, to what she represented. A light to ward off the darkness. They worshiped her. But she was never a god, no matter what ponies wanted to believe. She was not much different than you or I, once. She was still flesh and bone, still weak. Once upon a time, she murdered, lied, and bribed her way into power, no different than every other Canterlot crook,” Twilight said, “Her reign was built on a lie, Starlight. Kept buried for a thousand moons. My entire life, she was there. Looking after me. Keeping me on the right path. But every now and then, there were moments that it felt too perfect. And it was, Starlight. The past was catching up to her. Criminal syndicates taking over entire cities. Other kingdoms plotting to depose her and take her crown. Old enemies thought dead are rearing their heads at the edge of the world, gathering strength, with only one goal - destroy Celestia, destroy me, destroy Equestria. She couldn't bear the strain anymore, and when she found me, well....she finally had her chance to run away from it all. She raised me up to succeed her, made me believe I was family, hiding who she really was. Celestia meant to use me to save her from judgment, to steer Equestria on the right course, to right her wrongs. She showed me the future, what was coming for Equestria. I saw your eyes in a stack of the slain, right beside my brother, my father and mother, right beside me. Everything was gone, Starlight. Everyone was gone. I was only ever meant to be her scapegoat. And I hated her then for all the lies, but what choice did I have but to accept? She wasn't strong enough anymore, she said. It has to be me to protect Equestria. But as the transition of power drew closer, her secrets got out. Ember, Thorax, and the rest of them, they discovered the truth of who she really was. It was Posh Paramount who first contacted me, offered to tell Equestria what they had learned, to have revenge, to shatter the illusion of Celestia's legend. She put together her little league of revolutionaries, and they all agreed. They thought I would too."
Starlight shook her head, struggling to understand.
"You did it to protect Celestia? Why?"
Twilight's glare hardened.
"Equestria needs to believe in heroes. Even if they don’t really exist. Ember and the others would have told the world. I had to stop them. They were traitors, Starlight. The truth about who Celestia was, it would’ve plunged Equestria into chaos. I can't protect Equestria if they've lost faith in the crown. But that's what Ember and the others wanted. They'd have come after me next, and everypony I care about, and taken what power they could. Taken advantage of the chaos and confusion. They wanted a new world order, one where they were the ones who held power. They didn't trust me any longer. How could they? They trusted Celestia, and look what she turned out to be. They turned against me because of what they thought I was, a second Celestia, and that's exactly what they made me become. They were going to destroy everything that Celestia and I worked so hard to build. Everything we've fought for, it'd all have been in vain.”
"You spared me, why not them?" Starlight demanded, "Even if you thought they were wrong, they didn't have to pay with their lives."
Twilight laughed.
"You speak of them as if they'd show me mercy if it was the other way around," Twilight said, "Celestia showed me the truth. There could be no other way, no half-measures or redemptions. If I let them live, the day would come when they would find a way to rise up again and rally their kingdoms against me. They could never again be allies. But confusion, distrust, uncertainty, those are allies I could depend upon."
Starlight took a step closer, aggressively.
“If what you're saying about Celestia is true, then you’d know that you owe Equestria the truth,” Starlight retorted, “If your intentions were so noble, why all the lies? You think it’s worth it to sacrifice justice for a false peace? You’re just another perpetrator of the cycle of corruption you pretend to loathe. I used to think you were a pony bound by principle. Now you’ve let the pressure get the better of you,” Starlight spat.
Twilight scoffed, amused by Starlight’s defiance.
“I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly understand. You curse me and mourn your dead, all while pretending that the world is more forgiving than it could ever hope to be. Equestria needs somepony to depend on when hope goes with the wind. Who’s gonna do it? You? Sunset Shimmer? Or maybe any one of the criminal elite who’d exploit Equestria to the bone. No, you need me. Equestria needs me. I'm going to fix Celestia's mistakes, but undoing everything in some bloody coup, like what Posh and Ember wanted, was not the right way to go about it. They wanted blood, and they got it. You grasp at phony ideals to make up for what we both know is naivety. I never wanted you to be a part of this. But duty comes first. I had to choose between Equestria and my friends. I’d make the same choice again,” Twilight said.
Starlight blinked away a single tear, softly shaking her head in disbelief. She could not do it, she told herself. She must not understand, still. Twilight always knew best. Who was Starlight Glimmer to think otherwise? To remain an obstacle, to remain an adversary, would mean death. It was mercy that brought Starlight to Hellhatch. But there was no more mercy left behind those violet eyes.
"You've gone mad, just like Celestia. You must have. Twilight," Starlight pleaded, "You can tell yourself you had a duty to stop Ember and the others, you can tell yourself you were in the right. But I never betrayed you, Twilight. I would have followed you, to my dying day. But this crown has made you do things you'd never have done. The Twilight I knew wouldn't have met treachery with bloody vengeance, she would've forgiven them, given them a chance."
Twilight glanced up at the sky, where the clouds continued to gather.
"I was wrong to send you away," Twilight said, her voice cracking, "I knew it was wrong then, and I know it now."
Starlight's shoulders fell, and she let her guard down for the first time since arriving by the bugbear's carcass.
"The oaths I swore seemed cruel, once. That I would not love, not the same way that I had before. That I would do whatever is right, no matter what. No matter what. But I am no god, either. We were fashioned for happier things than to serve these rigid ideals. I had hoped to change it all, into what you and I had dreamt of. I never wanted the crown, you know that, but once I got it .... It was a chance for Equestria to have a clean start. To rid this land of all the corruption that Celestia allowed to take over. I wanted you by my side, I always have. I need you, Starlight. But to be responsible for millions of ponies' lives means living by hard truths. It means doing things you never thought you could. All for the greater good."
Starlight refused to budge, however, her face twisted in anger.
"And who decides what the greater good is? Ember and the others would have said the same thing."
"They would have," Twilight agreed, "But they did not see what I have seen. They thought Celestia had gone mad. She had only resigned to despair, knowing what future awaits us. Ember's band of rebels would have divided Equestria, left it susceptible to the dark forces that wait to drag us to our deaths. They believed in an idea of friendship, yes, but one that could never have included me, or the other alicorns."
"And where are these dark forces?" Starlight stammered, "In your head? You speak of treachery, when it seems to come so easily to you."
"I won't ask for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it. I was weak," Twilight said, "I was afraid. What I did to Ember, Thorax, Posh...I had no choice, but it destroyed me. I thought they were my friends. Then I see they had tried to rope you into their little scheme....I assumed the worst. But I couldn't bring myself to sentence you to their fate. I thought sending you away would make the problem simpler, but I was wrong. Every waking hour I cursed myself for what I did. It tore me apart. I had lost almost everypony already. I didn't want to lose you too."
"You already have."
Twilight's face turned to a scowl.
"I've only ever seen the brighter side in ponies. I've hoped and prayed for my enemies to give up their hate and anger and envy, no matter their wicked pasts. But Celestia bestowed upon me a duty that demands I take action for the benefit of Equestria, not my own conscience. Terrible burdens still have to be carried. Perhaps the end will be no different. Perhaps Equestria is destined for the dust, and nothing may yet stop what’s coming. But I am charged to defy such a fate, no matter the costs. Duty is the death of friendship. I am the royal sovereign now. It’s best to go through life unencumbered.”
"I don't believe you," Starlight said, "I don't believe that you'd give up everything because of what Celestia made you think."
Twilight glared at her, becoming increasingly frustrated. Starlight could not know the whole of the truth. But there was no persuading her. She was too stubborn. Twilight almost wanted to laugh, they seemed to have stubbornness in common. She could not do it. She could not turn on another friend. But if her words proved unconvincing, there would be no other choice.
"Nightmare Moon, Tirek, Chrysalis, Sombra....they were all just precursors for the storm that's coming. Things have been set in motion thousands of moons before you or I had anything to do with it. The real enemy, the great enemy, it's coming for us, Starlight. There was only one path to prolong what bitter peace we may hope to hold onto. The visions, the dreams, so real I hardly know whether or not I'm awake. The past, the present, and the future all collide, and the voices that speak to me - warnings of what's coming. Only I can lead Equestria against it all. Ember, Thorax, Paramount…they were too shortsighted to understand what they were doing. They thought of themselves as saviors. As heroes fighting for an end to the tyranny of Celestia, of Luna, of all the systems in place that have allowed atrocity after atrocity to threaten ponies' lives. They told me I was either with them or against them. But I knew their true intentions. They planned to depose me as well, if it meant taking power for themselves. To do out with the old, and in with the new. So I did what had to be done. I made an example of them, for every other duplicitous wretch in this kingdom who has their eyes on my throne to see. But the visions haven't changed. Every night I see the same thing. Blood-red shores, black skies and lakes of fire. I thought by killing them all I'd prevent it. The end of Equestria. Now I fear there is nothing I or anypony can do. War is coming, no matter how hard I try to stop it."
Starlight could feel her legs trembling.
"It’s all in your mind, Twilight,” Starlight said, "Whatever you saw, it isn't real."
Twilight scoffed.
"When the storm breaks, and the enemy washes onto our shores, I'm going to need you by my side. Equestria needs both of us. You chose to stick yourself in the middle of this. Now you have to make a choice, Starlight. You can join me, and you and your friends will be declared innocent of all wrongdoing. Or, you can continue standing in my way, and see how fate rewards you.”
“...Being a leader is earned through trust. You don’t deserve to wear that crown,” Starlight said, bitterly, “I still believe in heroes. Just not in you.”
Twilight’s face began to change, from frustration to panic, as if she were in a state of shock.
"I won't fight you," Twilight said, her voice sharp like ice. Her eyes had turned red, and her mouth was almost quivering, "You're one of the only friends I have left."
Starlight gritted her teeth, and her face hardened. Trixie had warned her not to do this. There was a better way, she thought. A better time to strike. Not out in the open. Not like this.
Her life would be forfeit, even if she somehow prevailed. And her friends, what of them? Trixie. Sunset. Wallflower, Lightning, Suri. Sunburst. They needed her to protect them.
But it was too late to turn back now, too late to surrender her chance. Reunited, at last.
Starlight's eyes narrowed in on Twilight, who took a step back, shaking her head slightly.
She meant to do it, Twilight realized.
"What's done is done," Twilight said, firmly, "Ember and the rest are dead, but the fight is not over. Your friends still have a chance to live, to help save Equestria from what's coming. So do you. Don't throw your life away for nothing."
Starlight shook her head, and held her ground.
She readied herself, throwing back her shoulders, raising her chest, sparking her horn.
Never the hero. That's all she ever understood. But even a lifetime of mistakes that could not hold her back now. For a fleeting moment, she might just live up to all those expectations. Fight the fight she had been craving since she was a child, since the day Sunburst left her, since everypony in the world seemed to turn their back on her. Twilight may have lost her way, but the words she had once spoken still remained in Starlight's heart. She did not expect to live, or die, or win or lose. She only knew what her heart told her was right, even if it meant challenging the pony who gave her the very courage to fight on, to overcome despair.
That was the only truth. That she may never be the hero. But she might still try to do what is right, regardless.
And there Twilight Sparkle stood, bathed in the shadow of the storm, trembling with each drop of the rain.
A darker kind of treachery awaited her. She must do it. Celestia's voice was pounding in her head, begging her to end it now, end it quick. Twilight was repulsed by the truth of what she was, the truth of what she had done. But that was all she was, now, all of which she could never escape from. Why run from it any longer? Whose arms did she hope to reach, at the end of the tunnel? Since the cold touch of the crown graced her head, the road into oblivion became ever so clearer. There was no deliverance. There was no redemption. She would have to finish what she started, no matter what.
No matter what.
Their eyes met once again, and for a moment the heat seemed to boil to its limit, holding now at a bubbling fit of rage, kept thinly restrained.
“You don’t want to do this,” Twilight said.
“Yes, I do,” Starlight said, a shade of blood red swirled in Twilight's eyes.
Twilight sighed.
A flash of purple light sent Starlight tumbling backwards into the grass, landing on shaky hooves. Starlight was taken aback by the suddenness of the strike, her eyes wide with terror.
She glanced up to see where Twilight had gone, only to find the princess was already behind her, her horn ignited, a blast of purple flame searing through the air towards her.
Starlight disappeared in a flash of blue light.
Twilight’s eyes scanned her left and right, searching for where Starlight might reappear.
The shift in the air told her right, where she spun around just in time to deflect an attempted shot by Starlight, bursting through the air.
Twilight’s horn cast an aura of magic around Starlight’s throat, dragging her down face first into the dirt. An aura appeared over Starlight’s leg, lifting her up and flinging her up into the air. Twilight swung her down into the dirt, leaving a sizable crater scattered with drops of fresh blood.
Starlight grunted in pain for a moment, before attempting to jump back to her hooves.
Twilight had her again by the legs, flinging her with an exaggerated motion. Starlight flew off into the distance at a supersonic rate, darting between the reporters’ hot air balloons, miles and miles at an untraceable rate.
Twilight watched Starlight disappear into a dot on the horizon, heading towards the mountains in the distance.
Her hardened glare fell apart for a moment, before she shut her eyes to dispel such weaknesses.
Twilight took off in a burning blaze of fire, darting through the air after Starlight.
Starlight was able to balance herself while overtop the summer forests by the Smoky Mountains, struggling to keep herself from throwing up from the intensity of the air pressure.
She could hear the ear piercing shriek of Twilight’s approach middair, and, without giving herself much time to think, she dove downwards, narrowly avoiding Twilight’s missile-esque arrival.
Twilight had made her turn in the air sooner than Starlight had anticipated, demolishing the clouds in her way as she barreled down towards her.
Starlight cast a shield of magic to halt the impact, though Twilight was able to shatter right through it, knocking Starlight backwards in a shockwave of heat.
Starlight shot four times in Twilight’s direction, though for each attempt Twilight was easily able to evade.
Twilight was upon her once more, holding her by the throat in an aura of magic, while her eyes seemed to turn blood red.
Starlight screamed in agony and blasted Twilight right in the face, sending Twilight spinning off balance. Starlight teleported through the air to Twilight’s blind spot, where she grabbed at Twilight’s ankle and spun her off circling through the air. Charging up her horn, the ensuing blast of magic was powerful enough to incinerate every living microscopic organism that had the misfortune of being in the way. Twilight cast a shield to defend herself, though the force was so monumental that even she felt its impact, spiraling through the air, a portion of her wing injured.
"We were meant to fight the darkness together, Starlight," Twilight said, after collecting herself and wiping some blood from her snout, "The powers you have are no accident. You are a part of the prophecy. Together we will save Equestria, and rid it of all the ponies who want to do it harm. Join me, Starlight."
"Save Equestria?" Starlight repeated, aghast, "Look at everything you've done. How can't you see it? You're the one who's destroying Equestria! What do you think is gonna happen? That I'm going to help you murder and maim more ponies, all because of some doomsday visions that you saw? This is my life! These are my ponies!"
"We have a responsibility to be a part of something that's larger than ourselves," Twilight said, "I thought you of all ponies would be able to understand. Equestria doesn't know what's best for it. Only I do. There is a one in ten-thousand chance that Equestria prevails against what's coming, and to reach that end means doing things I once thought were unthinkable. Even brave ponies blind themselves, when they are afraid to see. But there's no time for fear, and I have even less patience for it. If ponies want to stand in my way, then they are not just my enemies, but enemies of Equestria, too. Don't die for them. You belong with me. I could make you just like me. An alicorn, blessed with eternal life, blessed with the powers of a god."
"No," Starlight said, "I don't care if I don't live forever, I don't care about the powers of a god. This is my home. And I won't let you destroy it!"
Starlight teleported again to attack Twilight from below, shooting a beam of magic straight for her eyes. She hit her target, evident when Twilight’s screams began echoing down below into the valley.
Twilight adjusted herself, weakly pawing at the blackened, crisped residue surrounding her left eye, which had taken the brunt of the damage. She could only see out of the right then, though the pain was what concerned her more.
“If I’d known you’d be this much of a nuisance, I’d have made sure your friends had suffered more before I put them out of their misery.”
Starlight’s fiery glare broke apart in an instant.
“W-What?”
Twilight grinned, lapping up the blood spilling out from her nose. Starlight was not faring much better, her face reduced to bruised pulp.
“Your little accomplices. Sunset, the Wonderbolt, the seamstress, They were all in one place when we found them, they made it easy. My only regret is it was all over in an instant. Except for Sunburst. The whole time I was breaking him, he was only ever crying out for you.” Starlight shook her head, distraught, unwilling to give ground to Twilight’s bait. Tears had welled up in her eyes already, realizing that she had abandoned them all, when they needed her most.
Starlight cried out a horrible sound of despair, when her horn reignited. Twilight had been waiting for that, darting through the air to catch Starlight just as she was overwhelmed by her own emotions.
Twilight blasted Starlight right in the face, and again in the chest, before knocking her so hard that she came crashing down towards the mountain below.
Twilight sighed, grunting as her right wing struggled to function.
Twilight glided down below, wiping the blood from her face.
She found Starlight in a dirt crater in a short forested area on the mountainside, five trees having been cut to pieces during the explosive descent. The sky above had turned blood red while the setting sun broke through the storm.
Starlight’s face was mangled, bruised and drenched in blood. She was wheezing for air, unable to move her legs. She hardly resembled a pony anymore, with the burned holes in her flesh from Twilight’s strikes, and the occasional piece of bones sticking out from her flesh.
"You're doing this for nothing," Twilight said, "I'm the only one who knows what how to save Equestria from complete annihilation."
Starlight drooled out a mouthful of blood and dragged herself up to her knees, turning around with a bloodied, sightless eye.
"And how many ponies have to die for you to save Equestria?" Starlight managed.
Twilight was twitching with rage.
"It's their choice to resist, not mine. Ember brought it on herself. Posh brought it on herself. They all did. Now Equestria can see how pointless it is to defy me, and know that they can be a part of something bigger."
Starlight grimaced and struggled to stand back up, her horn coughing out some sparks of magic.
"I won't let you," she said.
Twilight’s horn was alight once more, and the ensuing blast sent Starlight crashing back into the crater.
"You want to die instead of trusting me? Fine. I can always find a new pupil.," Twilight roared, blasting Starlight again right in the face. She levied blast after blast, each one breaking another bone or ripping flesh from muscle. Teeth came flying out into the snow, which was stained a terrible shade of red. Twilight's wrath was so great that the whole mountain began to shake, and all the birds that had remained nearby had all flown off.
Twilight readied her horn for another blast, only to hesitate, watching Starlight shake and tremble, as if each passing breeze was enough to send waves of excruciating pain through her body. Twilight shut her eyes and winced and dug her hooves into the snow, furious.
"Damn it," she spat, before collapsing to her knees in front of Starlight, exhausted.
Her horn dimmed, and she gazed up at the falling snow with bloodshot eyes, gasping for breath. She glanced at Starlight, whose face was all bloody red pulp. Her eyes were bloody horrors, her coat was colored red from almost head to toe, and with each breath a bit more blood escaped down her lips.
Twilight straightened herself up, but had to look away, unable to look at Starlight for too long. But her rage took the better of her, and she glanced down at that bloodied, beaten body, while loose strands of her mane dangled over her eyes.
"Why did you make me do this?" Twilight demanded, "You're fighting so you can defeat me and leave Equestria vulnerable for its destruction! Millions will die if I'm not here to protect them. Ponies have to die for Equestria to survive. Maybe that's too hard for you to understand. Grow up. Why do you think you know better?"
Starlight continued gasping for breath, hardly able to move in the bloody crater.
Twilight remained there, watching Starlight struggle for air, writhing while her bruises weeped blood and the wind held her in a cradle of agony. Twilight shut her eyes for a moment, and then glanced back at Starlight, her pupil, with pale eyes.
Twilight sighed again. She spread her wings, and took flight, soaring up into the air.
Starlight’s eyes were blinded by the tears, before the darkness overcame her,
Sheets of rain flooded the polished streets of Canterlot, while patrols marched past at almost every turn, sirens wailing along the white ramparts.
The afternoon air was hot and sticky, as nightfall drew closer like an animal stalking its prey.
Sunset Shimmer tightened her hood over her head, hoping she could pass through the city without drawing much attention.
Trotting past one storefront window, Sunset noticed a crowd of pedestrians eyeing the TV screens on display, piled tight underneath their umbrellas. The news was on at full volume on the other side of the glass, and Sunset had to shove past a few in the crowd to catch a good look. The glow of the televisions reflected across the rainfall, shining a dim light on Sunset’s dampened coat.
“There’s no sign of Sparkle or Glimmer, folks, we’ve lost sight of them. No civilian casualties reported thus far, we’ll be updating you all soon,” came Bravo’s voice from the Equestria News Network broadcast.
Sunset shook her head in disbelief, having not expected Starlight to take action so soon. Sunset broke off from the crowd, hurrying along at a quicker pace.
It took her half-an-hour to reach 21st Avenue, stumbling over pockets of drenched moss in the sidewalk cracks. She saw potential in Wallflower’s parents’ home, the group’s newly designated place of operations.
She froze when she rounded the corner. Sunset’s eyes lingered only for a moment, before she continued on down the sidewalk.
She could hear hoofsteps trickling against concrete just a few yards behind her, as she continued past the house.
She kept on down the road, keeping her eyes front.
The hoofsteps drew closer in quicker beats. She wondered how many there were watching her. She sped up her pace, ever so slightly. She’d hate to make a mess out in the open like this.
Darting around a corner, however, Sunset found herself drifting off to the side into an adjacent alleyway.
A pony had their hoof over her mouth, dragging her down to the ground behind a set of black dumpsters surrounded by nightstruck puddles.
The two royal guards that had been following her could be seen rushing past the alleyway, oblivious, while Sunset waited patiently so she could remove her rescuer’s hoof from her mouth.
Sunset stood up and spun around, staring down the shaggy figure of Wallflower Blush, whose curly green mane was even more tangled than usual.
“Basket case, go figure. Got left behind?” Sunset said, wiping sweat from her brow.
“Some ponies pronounce it ‘thank you,’” Wallflower snapped, though her voice was too soft to convey much anger, “I thought you were caught.”
“Just stopped by. Figured you’d all be goners.”
“How’d you know that?”
“Door’s repainted, the front porch is scrubbed clean, and there’s a black truck out by the curb, probably packed full of tinheads waiting to welcome me home. Mind filling me in?”
“They knew where we were, somehow. Guards - forty or fifty, I don’t know. It happened too fast. They’re all gone. Lightning, Suri, all of them,” Wallflower said, “I tried to help them.”
Sunset glared at her.
“If you really had, you wouldn’t be here.”
Wallflower’s eyes fell to the floor, subtly, before jumping back up.
“So what do we do? How do we get them back?”
Sunset shook her head, cutting Wallflower’s plea short.
“We’re on our own now. We’ve got to get to Twilight, before we lose our window.”
“What?” Wallflower stammered, “Sunset, forget about Twilight, We can’t leave them all behind.”
“I’d wager we’ve got a few hours before the guards find us. This is the only chance we’re gonna get.”
“They’re our friends. And you’re abandoning them,” Wallflower said, picking herself up to meet Sunset at eye level.
“They’d want us to finish the job,” Sunset snarled.
“Your job. Not theirs,” Wallflower rebuked.
Sunset glared at her, practically steaming from the ears.
Wallflower shook her head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe you. You don’t care about any of us. You’re just using us all.”
“We didn’t break out of Hellhatch to hide in the shadows. We said we would stop Twilight, and that’s what we’re going to do. We just need to take one more step. Now come on.”
Sunset turned back towards the street, though Wallflower did not budge.
“No. We have to save them.”
Sunset glanced back, irritated.
“We don’t have time for this. Let’s go,” Sunset said, again turning to exit the alleyway.
“And then what? We do it your way, and there’ll just be more and more ponies getting hurt.”
“That’s the game,” Sunset spat, storming back towards Wallflower, “That’s what we signed up for. Or maybe you haven’t gotten the message yet.”
“You’re not dragging me down with you. Not this time.”
“You’re pathetic.” Sunset said, storming back out into the street, “Goodbye, Wallflower.”
Wallflower waited until Sunset had disappeared around the corner, as dread began to tear her mind to shreds.
In the pitch black, raindrops snaked along the metal wires, while nearby the sewers overflowed and the sounds of traffic were drowned out in the downpour.
Inside the Canterlot western Marine compound, the prison cell was more akin to a livestock pen, stuck right out in the open of one training depot. Lightning Dust had made countless attempts at flying up towards the steel roof, colliding into it at colossal speeds. Nothing seemed to work. Kickstart had remained at Scootaloo’s side, when he wasn’t dozing off. He had received a deep gash to the head during his arrest, leaving him only capable of brief interludes of consciousness.
The four of them lay there in the mud, while runoff soaked their soles, and the odd flash of the nearby tower searchlight interrupted attempts at rest.
Lightning’s ear perked up first, when she overheard a rare bout of commotion from the main compound door entrance.
Out came two royal guards, dragging another pony between them.
Lightning rose to her hooves, when the three figures approached the cage, paying no notice to the pouring rain.
One guard moved to open the door. He prodded Lightning away from the door with the tip of his spear, before allowing room for his companion to dump off the body they had been carrying.
The guards departed and shut the door locked, marching off to escape the rain.
Lightning peered down at the pony, who sluggishly picked herself out of the mud. She was absolutely drenched, hardly recognizable any longer.
“Bon Bon,” Lightning said, shocked.
Kickstart awoke, suddenly, his eyes flashing red.
The stallion stormed up to his hooves, rushing towards an unsuspecting Bon Bon.
He had her by the throat in no time, shoving her against the cage fence with little difficulty.
Spinning searchlights revealed the face of a pony lost to madness, as he crushed Bon Bon’s throat under his grip.
“Kickstart, hey! Kickstart,” Lightning said, slipping in the mud while rushing to intervene.
She attempted to reel Kickstart back, though the stallion’s strength was formidable. She only managed to trip over herself, landing hard in the mud.
“Kickstart,” Scootaloo said, cautiously approaching him as though he was some rabid animal.
Kickstart glanced back at her once, then twice, and his eyes softened.
He released his grip, sending Bon Bon crashing down the ground, her face soured purple, her throat streaked in red. She gasped for breath. Spikes lined her ribcage, and she could feel her muscles all having gone numb. Collapsing in the mud, Bon Bon’s mind was scrambled, all while Kickstart took to skulking back to his corner of the fence.
“The blackcoat rat sold us out!"
Bon Bon shook her head vigorously.
“It was Callidus,” she choked, “He led me right to Snowfall. He gave her the address.”
Lightning glanced at Kickstart, and then at Suri, uncertain of the truth.
“Where’s Wallflower? And Sunset?” Bon Bon wondered, spitting mud out of her mouth.
“They had better luck, it looks,” Suri muttered.
“I want to go home,” Scootaloo squeaked.
“We’re gonna get out of here, I promise,” Lightning said, though she too was dwindling on hope. The rain came down in heavier sheets, while Lightning savored every moment she could, confident that their time was running out.
Blondie twirled the knife in his hoof, while his eyes lingered over to the hotel room television.
Salt Shaker had made the room a miniature base of operations, where his fifteen most loyal Black Hoof subordinates were busy preparing their ammunition, grenades, and assortment of blades.
“In and out. Find Trench, and kill him,” Salt Shaker reminded Blondie, "What's his will be mine. Then I'll consider your offer."
Blondie hoped it would be him to land the finishing blow on that smirking stallion, the architect of all the abuse poor Brandy Bow had endured for months on end. He recalled the stallion’s face, dark grey with a head of jet black hairs.
“The lot of you, help me load the carriage,” Salt Shaker said.
The room began to clear, and Blondie meant to follow, until something caught his eye. Tucked away near the hotel air conditioner, the silver tip of a briefcase handle.
Drowned in the fluorescent fog, Trixie had her eyes cast down by the bayside window of the Erased’s sunken control room. Agents in stuffy black suits ran past her to and fro, carrying high stacks of paperwork and riding high on caffeine overdoses. Miles underground, there was a certain airtight anxiety that followed every step.
The Erased’s field agents were still deployed in the Northern Woods, searching for Starlight Glimmer, or, potentially, her bloody remains. Trixie had faith in Starlight, more than anypony, though even she had to grapple with the plausibility that their last farewell would be permanent.
Glancing back inside, she saw Alias had arrived, a cigarette spinning between his teeth. His face was worn like old leather, and his grizzly hunch was worse than ever before. But he seemed jovial for once, if only for the company of two faces Trixie did not recognize.
“I’d almost given up on you two,” Alias said, glancing between the belligerent Flamberge and the starry-eyed Amity Stiletto.
“We’d have stayed in Seaward longer, if we knew what would happen,” Flamberge insisted. The pair had left the city just days before the bugbear’s dreadful arrival.
“It’s good to have you back,” Alias said. Amity caught his gaze, as if she had been longing to hear him say it.
“Chief,” she said, “Has Bandolier made it in yet?”
Alias’ disposition changed from reluctant, fatherly pride, to unmistakable discomfort.
Alias glanced at Slick, who was sitting nearby at his control panel. Slick straightened up in his chair.
“He never reported into Seaward,” Slick said.
Amity’s face fell in despair.
“We left him,” she muttered to herself.
Flamberge’s cocky smile faded. He hadn’t expected the scruffy rat to go out so easily, despite his contempt.
“Best not to dwell on it,” Alias croaked.
Amity glanced back up at him, distraught. Alias gave a cordial nod and turned to trot off.
Amity took a step forward, enraged.
“He was the best of us, and you know it. He died following your orders, like he always did, and you’ve got nothing to say?” Amity stammered.
Without exception, every agent within earshot came to an abrupt silence, glancing over to lend their attention to Amity’s outburst.
Alias turned around, coldly. Even Flamberge, who was nearly twice the size of the old stallion, felt as though he was in danger. Those cold grey eyes would peel back every lie a pony could muster.
“He did his job,” Alias said, weakly. Amity would have continued lashing out, if she hadn’t noticed the pain in the old stallion’s eyes, the grief of youth and adventure, a father’s forlorn.
"Sir," came Slick, approaching from the gallery of consoles, "We've located Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy. They're now en route to Ponyville, they should be safe there."
Alias nodded in approval. Amity remained there, glancing up at him with a furious gaze.
"Bandolier would have wanted you to keep your head up," Alias offered, "Our war is far from over."
Alias again turned to leave, while Amity took a breath.
Alias found Trixie in the outside corridor, sitting on a bench near the window.
He would have walked past her, if not for his own grief for Bandolier, the same sort of grief he saw in poor Trixie’s eyes.
“You should get rest,” Alias advised, though his gruff demeanor did little to comfort her.
Trixie glanced up at him, her eyes heavy with an agonizing confusion.
“I never had a friend like her,” Trixie said, “Somepony who didn’t treat me like a joke. She fought for everypony but herself. That’s what I was there to do. Tell a joke. Lighten the mood. Keep her sane…I needed her. And she needed me. She was the pony I went to whenever I was at my lowest. She was somepony I felt like I could follow.”
“She made her own path. Maybe now it’s time to stop following,” Alias said, “And start leading.”
Trixie’s eyes darted up again from the floor. She sighed, unsure of her own ability to do such a thing.
“Sir,” came a voice from down the corridor, catching both ponies’ attention.
It was Pink Mist, dragging a sleep-deprived Rarity alongside her.
Alias glanced back down at Trixie, who was slowly rising to her hooves.
“This one’s yours to sort out, Lulamoon,” Alias said, nodding for Pink Mist to leave Rarity be.
Alias left Trixie with a nod of encouragement, before starting off down the corridor, agents flocking towards her to report their latest updates.
“I have work to do,” he said, before leaving Trixie alone with Rarity, whose makeup was smudged with tears, whose mane was hideously disheveled.
“Have they found her?” Rarity asked, meekly.
Trixie shook her head. Both had only seen as far as the Erased’s recording equipment could obtain, which was enough to dampen much sense of hope.
“Sorry for…ponynapping you,” Trixie said.
“I suppose that’s all in the past now,” Rarity said, to Trixie’s surprise.
Trixie eyed her, still uncertain to what extent to trust her.
“I’m not telling her anything,” Rarity said, after a brief hesitation, “Not a thing.”
“Twilight may see otherwise,” Trixie said.
“She would never hurt me.”
“Starlight once said the same thing,” Trixie replied.
Rarity had to keep reminding herself of that.
“They’ll find Starlight, she’ll be alright. I’m sure of it, darling,” Rarity smiled.
“Rarity,” Trixie said, keeping her shoulders firmly back and her eyes locked onto Rarity’s.
“She needs to be stopped,” Trixie said, subtly shaking her head back and forth, as if she was pleading for help.
Rarity’s eyes flickered, and Trixie could see that her lip was quivering. But then Rarity straightened up again, after a short deep breath.
“I know.”
Shifting sands and a masked void reeled him out of a dream, lost in some trickling velvety wood. He recalled a crack in the dead of night. And then he remembered who had been chasing him.
Styles.
Opening his eyes, he recognized the room they were in, the lounge of Lady Lavender’s own woodland palace. He could make out the miniature fountain in the center of the sunken couch area, by the bar, bath, and open candlelit library.
He was drenched in sweat, and could feel the swelling sore of whatever knocked him unconscious, gnawing at a tender spot on the back of his head.
Glancing to his left, Clover was in a similar predicament, tied down to a splintery wooden chair mere inches from Bandolier. The ropes dug into their flesh. But Clover had the advantage of having her hooves bound in close proximity to each other, spurring her to toy around with the rope threads.
“What happened?” Bandolier muttered.
“They found us,” Clover muttered back.
Bandolier struggled against the ropes.
"It’s no use," Clover said.
Bandolier continued struggling, despite Clover’s hopelessness.
“Stop, somepony’s coming,” she warned.
Bandolier glanced over at the stairwell, where the candlelit shadows of three ponies revealed themselves.
But it was not Styles as he had feared, however, but rather the fair Lady Lavender herself, accompanied by two of her guards.
“I trust you’ve had enough beauty sleep,” the purple-maned mare said.
“My lady, you won’t believe how happy I am to see you,” Bandolier grinned.
Lavender feigned a welcoming smirk.
“You didn’t think I’d really let you slip into Twilight Sparkle’s hooves, did you?” Lavender cooed.
“Right. Wonderful. Now, um, I don’t mean to overstep here, but you seem to have lost your famous sense of hospitality,” Bandolier said, again struggling against the ropes.
Lavender’s smile faded, as if perpetuating her act exhausted her.
“I suppose it would have been just a brief distraction, if you had stayed. I wouldn’t mind the handsome company,” she purred, “But you simply must understand how hurt I was, to see that my dear friend Twilight had sent one of her little pests to come and exterminate me in my own home. The quicker I could do without her, the better.”
Bandolier glanced at Clover.
“Twilight likes to think she’s the smartest pony in the room. I’d like to disagree. It's not difficult to pick up on her habit of cutting off accomplices once they've served their purpose. Mayor Mare played along, and what was Twilight’s reward? A dragon dungeon. Mine was apparently going to be more permanent.”
“You were working with her?” Bandolier said, glancing at Clover, who was equally confused.
“My darling husband had little relevance to her petty little scheme. Blueblood never cared for our princess, it's true, but he would never have had the stomach to do what Ember and Posh desired from him. It was me who told Twilight about the coup that was coming for her. I agreed to keep quiet about everything, as long as she added one more name to her afterparty's guest list,” Lavender said, reveling in her own deception, “All that wealth was wasted on a spoiled brat like Blueblood.”
Bandolier lowered his head slightly, cursing himself for not having made Lavender a suspect prior.
“Mayor Mare and I ensured everything went smoothly. Twilight may have succeeded in snuffing me out too, if it hadn’t been for you. I owe you a bit of thanks, for that. Your life, at least,” Lavender said, before her eyes turned to Clover, “You, on the other hoof…I’ve no idea what to do with you. Twilight must not have liked you failing the job, is that right? I suppose I could send you back to her…Whatever she has planned is bound to be far worse than anything I could contrive. But don't fret. Sooner than later things around here are going to change."
Clover, who was not busy being dumbstruck like Bandolier was at that moment, had carefully taken to sawing across her rope restraints with what little hoof room she had, using a pin kept hidden in her fur.
“Here’s for the one loose end Twilight forgot about,” Lavender grinned, “The one thing that kept even the likes of Princess Celestia ever paranoid.”
Bandolier narrowed his eyes, unsure what Lavender meant.
“Beyond the sea, there’s a pony who truly sees the bigger picture. A pony who saw the value of having somepony like me on their side. A pony who truly deserves to sit on that throne.”
Bandolier recalled what Clover had told him, the night before. There was a benefactor.
“Twilight’s ambitious, I’ll give her that. How far some ponies are willing to go for the love they crave…It’s a marvelous thing. But for all her careful considerations, she made a terrible mistake. She didn’t count on you,” Lavender said, burying her face in uncomfortable proximity to Bandolier.
Clover snapped across her ropes right then, slicing open the threads and ripping them apart in a sweeping motion.
Lavender swiveled her head to Clover, who promptly smacked her across the face.
Lavender shrieked, while the surrounding guards quickly moved in to apprehend her.
“Bandolier!” Clover cried, tossing him the pin.
Her aim was misguided, however, throwing the pin closer to the marble tile floor.
Bandolier grunted and threw himself backwards, crushing his legs against the floor.
He squirmed while wrestling for the pin, which, upon recovering, he took to quickly slicing through the bonds.
Clover was preoccupied wrestling with the two nearest guards. One had her by the throat, while the other made repeated attempts to smash apart her ribs with a hard-iron punch.
Bandolier made it to his hooves in just a few seconds, springing up and throwing his hoof across the air into a guard’s mouth. Three teeth came loose as a result, and the guard came crashing down.
Lavender was giggling the whole while, pawing at her sore cheek, where Clover had slapped her.
“There’s nothing anypony can do to stop what’s coming,” Lavender grinned. Bandolier scowled and kicked hard across the legs of another guard, sweeping him off his hooves.
Bandolier reached for Clover and dragged her along by the hoof.
“This way,” Bandolier said, rushing for the nearby staircase.
Lavender’s cackle carried on while they made their escape.
The rushing of hoofsteps from further down the stairwell prompted Bandolier to lead them off to the side to another corridor, a short walk to a balcony two stories up from the adjacent river.
“Shit,” Clover said, realizing that the guards were catching up to them.
Bandolier pulled her closer to the edge of the balcony.
“We can climb down,” Bandolier said, attempting to pull himself over the railing.
“The fall,” Clover pointed out.
“Just hold on to me,” Bandolier said.
He tugged on Clover to follow him, though she refused to budge.
“C'mon, we don’t have time to-”
“You were right about me," Clover said, "I wish I was strong enough to fight back, and make a difference. But I’m not.”
“Clover, now is not the time. We need to-”
“I know what I'm doing, OK? You want to tell the world the truth, then go do it.”
“What are you-”
Clover abruptly grabbed him by the shoulders, leaned in with pursed lips, and planted a neat peck on the cheek.
“I just hope you can swim.”
Bandolier’s eyes were lost in confusion, all until Clover pushed forward, sending him tumbling off the railing towards the river below.
Clover turned around towards the guards, who had just arrived at the balcony door.
No air. Couldn’t breathe, thrashing every muscle in every direction. Whimpering, clawing at the darkness, her lungs were crushed. Thoughts slipping away, no air, too hot, wet. Why was she wet?
Bubbling puddles of mud welcomed Lightning Dust back to the flooded cage at the compound. She awoke facedown in the muck, her entire body soaked in sweat and filth. She had only managed two hours of sleep, which was not much less than the others.
Suri and Bon Bon were both asleep, as was Kickstart, who was lying propped up against the metal fence.
“You OK?” Scootaloo asked, watching Lightning while she gasped for breath.
Lightning fell back against the pen, exhausted.
Her eyes wavered over Scootaloo, who was sitting in a puddle of mud. Scampers the Rat was nearby her, scratching at her hoof.
“You should never have come with us,” Lightning said, spitefully, “Your parents are probably worried sick.”
Scootaloo scoffed.
“My parents couldn’t care less,” Scootaloo said, “They’re both half a world away, living out their adventures together, without me. I found him and I thought, maybe this could be my adventure. What about your parents? Aren't they worried sick?”
She glanced at Kickstart, affectionately, before her glare hardened once more.
“My mom and dad raised me to be somepony I never could have been. I was never going to be the fastest. I would only ever be second best. The second they understood that, they left me to fend for myself,” Lightning said, "We haven't spoken in years."
“At least they gave you some thought, once,” Scootaloo retorted.
Lightning’s vicious snarl softened.
“You’re not like me, Scootaloo," Lightning said, "I deserve everything I got. You don’t.”
Scootaloo said nothing, digging herself deeper into her puddle.
“I wrote myself out of my own story, because of choices I made. It’s too late for me, but you, you’ve still got your entire life ahead of you. Don’t waste it following ponies like me,” Lightning said.
“Stop,” Scootaloo said, angrily, “Stop pretending like pitying yourself helps anypony at all! You’re just as selfish as you’ve ever been, only now you’ve got nothing to show off.”
“I got you into this mess.”
“I got myself into this mess. This is what I wanted! To make my own mistakes! To learn stuff the hard way! That’s how it’s supposed to be. You make mistakes, and you learn from them. You don’t just waste away beating yourself up.”
Lightning could not bring herself to reply, watching as Scootaloo turned away from her, lying back down in the mud to try and get some sleep.
Lightning’s head fell slightly, while the rain continued pouring down right outside the cage.
Flashing neon and streetside runoff dimly soared down the mossy ruin of Halifax Way.
Blondie had his hoof firmly tucked around his belt, dancing around with the hilt of his knife.
But Blondie led the way down the cracked asphalt, where the rats and roaches crept in the shadowy junctions. Blondie pretended not to notice the odd pair of eyes peering down at them from the half-boarded windows of the nearby apartments. His backpack bounced with each step, while his knife clanged against the zipper of his jacket.
Fifteen yards from the doors to the office complex front gate at the end of the street, Blondie came to a sudden stop. The earth was moving, somehow.
He could not tell from which direction the blast came from, only that its impact was strong enough to send him, the ten others tumbling off further down the street. As for the rest of their companions, when the fires had settled there was little left but charred bone and ashy tissue.
“C'mon,” Blondie said, hardly taking a moment to grieve the others.
They broke into a sprint for the gate, with one of the Black Hoof ponies having already dislodged a grenade from his belt. He only had three to spare, so he would have to choose his opportunities carefully.
Cracks of thunder came sounding off in every direction, while magical-bullets came bombarding the street. One of the Black Hoof ponies fell behind, and was soon torn to shreds by the firestorm.
“Toss it!” Blondie yelled.
The pony complied, releasing the pin and throwing the grenade straight for the front gate of the building. Blondie recognized the nearby warehouse as the one he had been dragged to before, and the alley where he had caught those royal guards. Both times Brandy had been just within reach, and still managed to escape his grasp. He grimaced while maintaining a ferocious sprint; he would not fail this time.
The front gate disappeared in a cloud of fire when the grenade made contact. Blondie kept on his pace through the fire inside the building lobby, where the others followed after.
Undergrounders came pouring in from the surrounding hallways, though Blondie did not give them much time to prepare. The Black Hoof pony had thrown his second grenade towards the largest group of them, while Blondie and the others ran straight for the next largest group, brandishing axes, swords, pistols and knives. Two of the earth ponies moved to meet him head on. Blondie shoved two out of the way, and threw his hoof right into another’s face, dampening his own hoof in the pony’s nosebleed.
Blondie noticed another’s hoof swinging right towards his face, catching the poor stallion’s leg on his own, before snapping the bone backwards. Blood sprayed over a good of the surrounding Undergrounders, who were distraught to see the pony’s bone was sticking out from the skin. But the pony himself was more distraught, shrieking in shock and agony, collapsing to the ground.
Blondie grabbed the next closest pony’s legs and pushed forward, running him backwards and off to the side. They crashed into a cement column near the center of the lobby, where ponies scurried out of the way, terrified. Blondie, gritting his teeth, held the pony down with one leg and moved the other to throttle him by the neck. But the pony was slightly larger than him, and was able to break free of his grasp. As soon as his grip came loose, Blondie fell backwards, toppling to the ground in a heap. The pony charged towards him, prompting Blondie to tumble to the side to avoid a stomping hoof to the neck. Blondie swung his leg back around, tripping the pony and bringing him to the ground as well. Blondie rushed upon him, grabbing him by the throat and slamming his hoof once, twice, three times in the pony’s face, dislocating his jaw and bloodying his nose into pulp. Blood poured out from the pony’s nose and mouth, and he could not help but try to cough it up before he would choke. Blondie grabbed the pony’s head and raised it back up in the air, swinging it back towards the cement column. He slammed the back of the pony’s head into the pole, and it took four attempts until he heard the crack of the skull and saw the bloody dent.
Blondie dumped the pony to the ground, just in time to receive a crack to the head by another Undergrounder, who drew his knife not long after.
Blondie fell to his knees and reached for his head, turning around immediately to catch his attackers’ hooves. He squeezed tight, until the pony dropped the knife. Blondie, grunting in pain while blood leaked into his hair from the back, slammed his head into the pony’s, bludgeoning both of their faces into a red mess of disfigurement. Blondie brought his head down against the pony’s two more times, until the pony had stopped squirming entirely.
Wiping blood from his face, he was absolutely drenched, and out of breath. Blondie glanced around at the lobby, where the others were busy with the remaining Undergrounders.
One, a younger stallion who could barely pick up the ax given to him, was nervously approaching Blondie while his back was turned.
Blondie turned around, his emerald eyes twisted with a bloody red fury.
“Where’s Trench?” Blondie snarled.
The Undergrounder dropped his ax in fright, the bloody, mangled Blondie rising to his hooves with a few aching motions.
“F-Fifth floor,” the pony replied.
Blondie’s eyes moved past the young stallion towards the elevator at the end of a hallway proceeding from the lobby.
He skulked past the Undergrounder, who scampered off to safety.
While his companions distracted the other Undergrounder goons, down that hallway Blondie spat out the lakes of the blood forming in his mouth.
He had not noticed the Undergrounder with the knife until the blade was dug in deep in his shoulder.
Blondie grunted and swung his hoof wildly to his right, where his attacker had leaped out from another corridor.
Blondie made contact with the pony’s head, though the pony was quick enough to levy another blow to his side. Blondie dodged a third punch and slammed his hoof down against the top of the pony’s head, sending him barreling to the ground.
Blondie dragged the knife out from his shoulder, while a river of blood began to wash over his coat. Blondie stuck the knife back down in the pony’s head, growling in agony the whole while.
Glancing at his wound, he reminded himself time was running out.
Blondie dragged himself over to the elevator, and stumbled inside.
Fifth Floor.
Blondie ignored the grizzly sight of himself in the elevator mirror, while the accompanying corny music tape made him even more aggravated on the way up.
Arriving on the top floor of the building, Blondie found Trench’s office directly ahead of him, identifiable by its grand towering windows, fern green carpets, and imported mahogany furniture.
Blondie sauntered over towards the office door, blood dripping over the carpet as he went.
He threw open the door, finding Trench himself waiting patiently in his shiny leather armchair, by the miniature library.
“Just you?” Trench scoffed.
“Just me,” Blondie said.
Trench rose from his chair, amused.
“So you're Mr. emerald eyes, the blonde bastard I've heard so much about. You’ve come for the girl. I do hate to disappoint you, but-”
“I know you don’t have her,” Blondie interrupted.
“Ah. Then you want to make a deal.”
“No deals.”
Blondie drew his knife, its blade already soiled in blood.
Trench snickered.
“They’re all using you, my friend. That’s their game. Crozer, Salt Shaker, your beloved little brat Brandy Bow. To them you’re just a means to an end.”
Trench expected Blondie to make some sort of reply, though he only found disappointment.
“My investments reach deeper than a petty rivalry with the Black Hoof. You’re in over your head.”
Blondie stepped closer, sending Trench a step back.
“It’s futile, Blondie! The game is about to change. Sooner than you think. You need me if you want to survive. Crozer can’t protect you any longer, and you’d be a fool to trust the giant. Let’s not spoil what could be the start of a wonderful friendship.”
Trench could tell his efforts were wasted on Blondie, and slid out of off his suit jacket.
"I don't know who you are," he said, "But you're not leaving here alive."
"Then you're right, you don't know who I am."
Blondie lunged for Trench with the knife held firmly in his hoof.
Trench scowled and dodged the attack, tripping Blondie over. Blondie ran straight into the window pane wall, leaving a sizable crack that spanned from top to bottom.
Trench reached for Blondie’s throat and threw him hard against the ground.
“We all start out the same way. Ambitious, ruthless. You, Blondie, you’ll be like me in no time.”
Trench stomped on Blondie’s hoof, forcing open his grip on the knife.
Trench planted a hard kick right at Blondie’s face, bludgeoning his already-crooked nose.
Blondie reached for Trench’s legs, and swept him off his hooves. Blondie sprang up and dragged Trench by his mane, tossing him straight into the window. The crack grew larger this time, with numerous other smaller cracks sprouting up from the stem.
Trench picked himself up and dodged another swing by Blondie. He reached for the knife, and kicked back hard into Blondie’s gut. Swinging the blade with precise swipes, Blondie endured two cuts across the face, one right below his eye and the other on his chest.
Blondie grabbed Trench by the leg, prompting Trench to bring the knife down straight through the flesh of Blondie’s own leg, poking through to the other side.Blondie grunted in pain and tightened his grip around Trench’s leg. He decked Trench hard in the face, spinning him off balance. Blondie ran straight for him, tackling him right into the pane of glass.
The glass splintered in a thousand or more shards, and Trench fell with them, managing to grab onto the ledge before plummeting five stories below.
Blondie pulled the knife out from his leg, and stuck it back in his sheath. He stumbled over to the window, leaning against one of the thin beams supporting the now-broken glass.
Trench, bloodied and beaten, hung by his front legs, stretching his bruised jaw in its place.
Blondie could hear the distant sound of police sirens echoing closer and closer to Halifax Way. He glanced down at Trench.
“There it is,” Trench grinned, “We're the same underneath. All it takes to let it loose is a little motivation.”
Blondie’s scowl was unwavering.
“That girl will be the death of you, Blondie,” Trench continued, struggling to maintain his grip on the ledge, “You’ve no idea what kind of power you’re meddling with. The power to change the game for good. The power to kill a god. But I think, maybe, the ambitious should consider how much better they’d like the good old days. Some ponies you don’t want as enemies,” Trench said, and for a moment he could make out a pair of velvet eyes overtop of Blondie. “Some things frighten me more than death.”
Trench released his grip on the ledge, and Blondie turned away, deciding to spare himself the sight of such bloodshed, after a day like today.
The Undergrounders had already fled into the nearest hovels and hideaways, when the first police carriage arrived on the scene. In the lobby, Blondie recognized the corpses of two of his Black Hoof companions, alongside nearly thirty Undergrounders. Blondie stepped through the smoking rubble of the front gate, where, ahead in the street, he could make out a pony who he recognized.
Copper Top, the same policepony who had paid him a visit in the hospital, was standing idly by her carriage while her squadmates were surveying the damage.
“Rough day?” Copper Top asked.
Blondie spat some blood onto a nearby fire.
He would have responded, if he hadn’t noticed another carriage arriving down the street.
The carriage made its stop right beside Copper Top. The door swung open, and there was Rainbow Dash, seated alongside Salt Shaker.
“I found her! Come on!” Rainbow bellowed.
Blondie glanced at Copper Top, who had her hoof resting on her holster-bound pistol.
“Better get going,” she said, hiding her smirk.
Blondie nodded, appreciatively.
He stumbled along towards Rainbow’s carriage, taking his seat facing the both of them.
The carriage took off, while Salt Shaker and Rainbow sat in stunned silence.
“Uh, you alright?” Rainbow asked.
Blondie sniffed, and glanced out the window of the carriage.
“The Underground will be needing new management.”
Salt Shaker grinned.
"Well done, lad. Your friend here is a charmer, I don't know why she sticks with you," he laughed.
“Brandy, where is she?” Blondie asked.
“That royal guard and her goons are taking her to the station, the the 3:30 to Canterlot. We’ll make it if we hurry,” Rainbow explained.
Blondie nodded. This time, he would not fail her.
Candlelight held the nightstruck hall of the Crystal Palace, while sparks of snow fell into a faint veil draped over the end balcony. Princess Cadance had dismissed her guards from duty that night, even Eight Ball and the Erased agents, who had otherwise not left her side for days.
But despite her efforts, her desire for lonesomeness was cursed to be fruitless.
“Canterlot’s told me nopony has been able to find a body,” Shining Armor said, scratching at his stubbly chin, struggling to keep from teetering over in his inebriated state.
“I told you to stop,” Cadance scolded.
Shining Armor scoffed, balancing himself against the velvet and gold adornments of the palace hall.
“Don’t you hate being helpless to it all?” Cadance snapped, glaring at her husband, “Our friends, our family, they’re turning against each other. They’re resorting to means I never could have imagined.”
Shining Armor sauntered over to her. She reeled back in disgust; his breath reeked of liquor.
“We have our own ponies to protect,” he murmured, “Here, in the North. Twilight can handle things down there.”
She’s handled things well enough, Cadance wished she could say. She cursed herself, she was not even sure she could trust him anymore.
Cadance made no reply, standing up beside him and gently helping him along towards the west-leading corridor.
“You should head to bed, dear. I’ll check in on Flurry.”
Shining Armor smiled and nodded, before taking his time to stumble out away from the hall.
She could not quite blame him, she supposed. She was tempted to turn a blind eye, whether by purposeful intoxication or silent complacency.
She wondered how Starlight Glimmer had figured it out, and what drove her to challenge Twilight so recklessly. For whatever it was worth, ponies would at least be asking questions.
Cadance was inclined to side with Shining Armor, if not for any reason than to avoid a prolonged argument. But she felt ill, as she had for weeks, considering that she might be standing idly by while her dear friend Twilight deceives the whole of the world.
But how soon could it be until Twilight shifted her gaze to the north, and considered her a threat, Cadance wondered.
She craved safety more than anything. She craved the easy distractions that might provide an escape from the dreadful reality she had taken it upon herself to discover.
But she was still a princess, she reminded herself. For whatever that meant any longer, her duty was to protect the common good. She was Princess Cadance, the First of Her Name, the Lady Protector of the Crystal Empire, and that still meant something.
Her eyes danced over past the balcony, to the swirling green aurora borealis twirling through the night sky. Trotting between candle flames and weathered portraits of heroes past, Cadance could make out a face in the blues of winter and the greens of summer, her own face staring back at her. She left faint hoofsteps in the snow sheets of the balcony, while thin crystals fell into her mane and past her eyes. She could make out her carriage on the road to Canterlot, and a barren throne beyond a ghost-guarded hall.
She would be the final answer to Twilight’s treachery, Cadance told herself.
She would be Equestria’s justice.
Nightfall welcomed a strange peace, where the grass waved in calm rhythms to the tune of the breeze, where Sunset Shimmer left her prints in the dirt.
The sky was made clearer with each step closer to Ponyville. She could still hear the dull rumblings of thunder overhead Canterlot, miles behind her now.
She had boarded a carriage as far as the nearest trading post, before opting to make the rest of her journey on hoof.
Eyes of cyan twinkled beneath the starbright night, locked on tight to the one celestial vessel that had fallen all the way to the earth. Miles and miles ahead, it was not a star at all, but the glistening crystalline tip of a castle, a castle that had remained unoccupied for months on end.
Twilight’s old residence, the Castle of Friendship, in all its glossy marble might, was waiting patiently in the dark distance. There she would find what she had come for, Sunset reminded herself.
But there remained one last obstacle lying in wait.
Ponyville.
“You’re sure you’ve packed everything?” Deputy Holster called out, rubbing his eyes with one hoof, and balancing a pony-sized box full of old keepsakes in the other against the stairs.
“Dad, I can’t find Shorty,” replied Juno, whose bouncing brown curls marked her arrival at the top of the staircase. The filly was close to tears already, though Holster was in little position to come to her aid.
“Right. Shorty. Right,” Holster said, ignoring the sweat dripping off his chin, trying to recall where he had placed Juno’s old stuffed teddy bear.
“Need some help with that?” came Marjorine, rounding a corner beside him, her bright red mane littered with dust and cobwebs.
“Yeah, thanks…you got it?” Holster said, allowing her to help pick up the other end of the box, together setting it down on the hardwood.
“I still don’t know why we had to do this so late,” Marjorine said, taking a deep exhale, exhausted.
“Movers come tomorrow at eight sharp. Better to finish up at the last minute than to pay a fee and put them on hold,” Holster growled under his breath, “This was your idea, don’t you forget that.”
Marjorine smirked.
“I’m glad you came around,” she said, reaching over to wrap her front legs around the back of his neck, “She needs this. And you could use a change of scenery.”
Holster snickered, leaning in to embrace her back.
“Father. I can’t find Shorty!” Juno cried from up the stairs.
“I’ve got this one, take a break,” Marjorine said, leaving Holster at the bottom of the stairs.
Right as he decided he could allow himself a two minute rest on the bubble-wrapped armchair. Holster was caught by surprise by a knock on the door.
His steely blue eyes narrowed. Nothing good could come from a knock at 12:31 at night.
He hesitantly approached the door, unsure whether to outright give the visitor a peace of his mind, or spare the effort. But then came a second knock, stronger than the first.
“What in the…” Holster muttered, storming towards the door.
He swung it open, ready to sock whoever awaited him on the other side.
He froze in an instant, however, recognizing the pony as his own direct subordinate, Waxer. The stallion’s blue uniform was all disheveled, and he seemed to be scared right out of his wits.
“Sir,” Waxer said, hardly wasting time.
“If I’m not mistaken,” Holster said, flatly, all while poor Waxer could hardly stand still, “You ought to be making the rounds by Haverhill. You’ve better got a good excuse.”
“Sir, it’s the schoolhouse, a fire’s started, we need you,”
“Have you lost your mind?” Holster said, shaking his head in disbelief, “Find Deputy Bluebell. Or Clipper. Tomorrow morning my family and I are-”
“Sir, I know, sir, Bluebell’s at the market, Clipper’s at south side. Fires have started there too. Sir, please, we can’t waste time.”
Holster did not have time to process what the wide-eyed lieutenant was demanding, when the air suddenly turned furnace-hot, and an ear-piercing shriek tore up into the sky, as thin as a razor.
Holster watched a pair of houses across the street suddenly burst into flames, debris flying through the night sky, colliding to the ground like a meteor shower.
The impact of the explosion sent both stallions tumbling over into the door frame of Holster’s home. Screws were rattled loose from their sockets, and dust was shaken off the high-up creases and crevices.
“You alright old timer?” Waxer asked, leaning against the doorpost, reaching down towards Holster, whose face was caked in smoke.
Holster could make out Juno’s crying from upstairs, and immediately picked himself up to rush back inside.
Marjorine was holding Juno by the hoof, leading her down the stairs in panicked confusion.
“What was that? What the hell was that?”
“Don’t move. Stay put. Do you hear me? Stay put.”
Marjorine was too stunned to speak, holding on tightly to Juno while Holster turned back to head out into the street.
“Waxer, tell me something,” Holster said, frantically shutting the front door closed behind him.
Ponies across the neighborhood were exiting their houses, wandering into the street to see what exactly it was that had shaken them out of their beds.
“Calls coming in from downtown. I can’t get a signal through with the guys at Mireforge,” Waxer replied, shuffling with his radio, stumbling along after Holster, who was marching off towards the burning wreckage of his neighbors’ homes.
Ash and rubble was all that remained, though hope prevailed that perhaps ponies had made it out intact.
That hope was crushed in an instant, when Holster made out what could only be the burnt bones of Mr. Davenport, scrambled along in the ashy mass of agony.
Holster’s attention swiveled back towards his own house, right as the blow came to lift him off his hooves.
The house, along with two others beside it, came bursting apart into thin grains of wood and cement. A swollen swirl of red torment went on to engulf a third of the whole block, Holster would have winced at the sounds of ponies screaming, if their cries had lasted any longer than an instant.
Holster stumbled backwards, and his knees felt weak, watching as his home collapsed into black ruin.
“Shit,” Waxer said under his breath, at a loss for words.
The smoke began to clear, and Holster immediately took off towards the carnage of what was once his home.
Waxer took to rounding up the streetbound civilians, who had broken into panicked sprints in every which way.
Holster barreled through the smoke, dodging splintery beams and charred framework.
“Marge!” he barked, his face pale with fright, the unthinkable slowly becoming the unavoidable.
He spun around back and forth, twice over, distraught as he struggled to decipher where in the wreckage he was even standing.
“Dad!” cried out the voice of Juno, sprinting towards him from the street. Marjorine was right behind, her face soiled with dread.
Holster could hardly breathe, kneeling down and reaching out to embrace Juno as she ran right to him. Marjorine joined in the embrace, drenched in sweat and smelling of a campfire.
“We’re alright, we’re alright,” she said, relieved that they hadn’t been caught in the blast.
“She ran off, she was worried about you,” Marjorine explained, backing away to allow Holster to look into her eyes.
Holster glanced down at Juno, who was a red mess herself.
“Worried about me!” Holster repeated, grinning. He squeezed her again, bringing a smile to the girl’s face for the first time all night.
“Holster!” Waxer yelled from the street, waving for them to follow him.
“Stay close to me,” Holster instructed, rising to his hooves and leading them along towards Waxer.
“What’ve you got now?” Holster asked, joining Waxer in a fast trot towards the group of civilians forming a group by the ruins of Mr. Davenport’s house.
“We lost Bluebell’s unit. East Riding is up in flames.”
“Is the station drained?” Holster demanded.
“Bone dry.”
Holster made his best effort not to appear flustered, despite how overwhelmed he was. Distant cracks of explosions sent everypony jumping, now and then, while Holster worked out a plan.
“Waxer, lead all of these ponies out to Folly Lick Field, we’ll regroup there.”
“What about you?” Waxer asked.
“There’ll be more ponies lost out in the open. I’ll send them your way.”
Waxer nodded, turning towards the group of trembling ponies.
He opened his mouth to speak, but never got the chance.
Organs congealed in burnt residue came spilling out his gut in a flash of brilliant opal. Blood and chips of bone shot out towards the crowd of ponies like a spray of confetti, though most landed on a single side of Holster’s face.
Holster backed away from Waxer’s gurgling corpse, which collapsed to the ground in a puddle of steaming blood.
Holster’s eyes shot over towards a new face approaching the group, her horn still smoking from the tip.
Holster did not recognize the pony at first, until he recalled one watchlist notice from Canterlot, describing a yellow-coated unicorn with a crimson mane and golden streaks.
"Sunset Shimmer," he whispered.
Holster, though he would have wanted to charge right up towards her and spin her head around backwards, was only an earth pony, a defenseless earth pony, at the moment. His weapons had all been incinerated during the explosion, and he didn’t figure there would be enough time to wrestle out Waxer’s belt-bound pistol.
Holster was helpless when the crowd of ponies took off in a screaming panic, rushing deeper into the heart of the town, where the fires had grown so fierce that they lit up the sky in a dull orange glow.
“Come on!” Holster grunted, ushering Juno and Marjorine to follow alongside him, as they dashed around a picket fence to head uptown.
Sunset glanced down at Waxer, hardly phased while the stallion coughed up blood and squirmed on the ground. Her eyes were on the lookout for a particular individual, one she thought would be hard to miss. She was not bothered with the tedious search, however. She had all the time in the world.
Holster, with Juno and Marjorine at either side, ran straight into the uptown market, bearing witness to the red inferno that had infected every shop in sight.
“Who was that?” Marjorine stuttered.
Holster had no time to answer, stumbling over the odd dead body or two in their wake. Juno wanted to puke at the smell of burnt dead innards, and Marjorine could hardly keep her eyes open against the vicious wafts of smoke.
“That’s Mrs. Cake!” Marjorine cried, horrified at the sight of the baker’s body lying motionless in front of her own shop. Marjorine would have noticed Mr. Cake too, if there was anything more than a short pile of ash left of him.
“Keep your eyes straight ahead,” Holster advised.
“Dad. Why are we going this way? You said we were going to Folly Lick Field.”
“If we’re lucky there’ll be a carriage for the mares and foals to evacuate. Probably at town square.”
“Why not take the train?” Juno asked.
“She’d have gone after the train first,” Holster said, shoving a burning wooden beam out of their path.
“There, a crowd!” Marjorine exclaimed, pointing farther ahead.
Holster, gasping for breath, led Marjorine and Juno towards the center of the town square, while the surrounding streets began to grow full of ponies with similar ideas.
“Ladies, gentlecolts, please remain calm,” came the megaphone-drawn voice, echoing out from loudspeakers adorning the lampposts around the square.
Holster glanced at Marjorine, who understood to stay where she was with Juno.
Holster stormed off through the crowd, shoving through without much of a care.
He found Sergeant Hickey at the line of policeponies struggling to keep the crowd of civilians from breaking out into mass panic.
“Sergeant!” Holster roared.
Hickey’s helmet nearly fell off his head, the pencil-thin stallion was caught so by alarm.
“Sir! You’re here!” he said, incredulously.
“There should be transports here. We need to evacuate these ponies.”
Hickey shook his head.
“Train’s derailed. No carriages left."
Holster was left speechless for a short while, struggling to think straight while the crowd of civilians behind him were busy shifting in uneasy terror, or else groaning in pain.
“We need to get the children out of here,” came Cheerilee, stumbling to the front of the crowd, "We might have to go on hoof."
Holster struggled to come up with a plan of his own. Every route he could conceive, led to the same result.
“You round up all of the foals, any injured folk or anypony who can’t defend themselves,” Holster said, speaking directly to Cheerilee, who nodded in acknowledgment.
“Sergeant,” Holster said, turning to Hickey, “Your ponies, and anypony who thinks they can put up a fight, come with me.”
“Sir,” Hickey said, disrupting Holster’s newfound momentum, “Deputy Bluebell is our commanding officer on duty. His orders were to hold this position.”
“Deputy Bluebell is dead. All of these ponies will be too, unless we buy them time to make it over the hills.”
Hickey glanced at his fellow officers, all equally uneasy about the proposal.
“That’s suicide.”
“That’s our job,” Holster snarled.
“This goes beyond training, sir,” Hickey said, glancing at the other officers for support, “Hell’s been let loose. There’s no certainty of anypony making it out. Why should we have to die so they might have a chance?”
Holster was bewildered. Take off that uniform, he wanted to say, but he held his tongue.
“Go then,” Holster said, turning back to make his way through the crowd.
“Everypony hurt! Everypony with foals! Send them our way!” Cheerilee cried out to the crowd.
Both caught a glimpse of Holster making his way to the edge of the crowd, a small number of officers and some able-bodied ponies joining him at the edge.
He glanced to his left and right, his face hardened with the grit of facing down unconquerable odds.
“Know if you go here with me, you won’t be coming back,” Holster said, though none in the new smaller crowd budged more than an inch. Holster nodded.
“Dad!” Juno yelled from the crowd. Holster noticed her pointing over towards one desolate street, where those sinister fluorescent eyes were staring back his way.
“Go!” Holster barked, waving for Cheerilee to take off with the foals and the wounded.
Sunset’s horn ignited, this time to block the fiery beams of magic shot out by three unicorns in the crowd, each struggling to manage such a spell.
Sunset cared little for the attempt, repelling them all.
Her horn glowed brighter then, and out came a more familiar sight, the hellstorm of fire that had already acquainted itself with the rest of the town.
Holster dashed to the ground to avoid the blast, though some of his companions were not as lucky. Black skeletons fell apart into heaps of ash, while the larger crowd of ponies began scrambling wildly, breaking off into odd avenues and tight alleyways.
Sunset took to picking off the townspeople one at a time, her eyes alive with the thrill of such visceral bloodshed. Ponies came bursting apart in red puffs of blood and tissue, or melting into waxy molds, or tumbling to the ground in slices or cubes.
Holster hadn’t noticed that a good portion of his hip had been flayed during the initial firestorm. He could hardly walk any longer, crawling across the square to where he had seen Marjorine and Juno run to hide.
By one streetside safe, it was Marjorine who noticed the small alley squeeze, not spacious enough for a full pony to fit through. Marjorine’s eyes flickered with realization, however, that Juno was in fact, not a full pony.
“Honey,” Marjorine said, attempting to soothe the snot-drooling, eyes-bright-red filly through a shaky voice, “You see over there? Take off for it.”
Juno saw what her mother had meant, and glanced back, confused.
“You won’t fit,” Juno said.
“There’s a way around, but you have to go now," Marjorine said, "Go on.”
“B-but, dad-”
“Juno. Now.”
Juno gulped, and had no sense to argue any longer. She scurried off towards the alley, and struggled to fit in herself.
She squeezed through, crossing the three-yard length until she could pop out the other side.
She eagerly spun back to catch a glimpse of her mother at the other side.
But her mother was gone already, vanished in a bloody spray of silenced screams.
Holster had watched on, while Marjorine collapsed to the ground, her body limp, severed at the torso.
Holster crawled towards her, grunting while his burned hip scraped along the stone ground.
“Dad!” Juno cried from the other side of the alley.
Holster couldn’t hear Juno crying out from the other side of the alley. His eyes were lost in the cold void that had swallowed up poor Marjorine, as the last bit of life slipped out through her lips.
He held her close, his mouth half-ajar. He should have listened to her, he thought, they should have left half months ago.
But Juno was safe, he thought. She was safe, despite it all.
Holster could hear Sunset Shimmer’s steps echoing across the square.
He had not the chance to even turn around, when his chest caved in on itself, his heart bursting into bloody pulp from the inside.
Holster gasped in brief despair, and collapsed alongside the halved-remains of his wife, dead.
Juno forced her hoof over her mouth, desperately trying not to scream. She was staring right at the unicorn, whose face was covered in blood. Her parents were dead, she told herself, they were dead, and she had done nothing to save them.
But Sunset’s horn did not reignite. The unicorn trotted off into the hell that had become Ponyville, her bloodlust not quite quenched.
There remained only one pony on her mind then, the royal subject of her spectacle. Sunset could only laugh to herself, thinking of the look on Twilight’s face.
Snowfall Glitter stood at attention when the great marble doors were thrown open, thin strands of her wavy blonde mane dangling over her icy blue eyes.
Twilight Sparkle had returned.
She could still make out the sound of the cheering crowd from outside, even while the rain continued pouring down.
Wedge Ward was also in the throne room, his helmet tucked underneath his front leg, his stubbly face wound tight. Featherglass stood near the throne, careful not to step too close.
“Your highness,” Snowfall said, kneeling before Twilight as she passed by. Snowfall knew better than to ask about the blood soiling Twilight’s coat, nor the burn mark blinding her in one eye, nor the disfigured wing.
“All has been settled, your grace," came Featherglass, bowing slightly, "Our changeling friend has been compensated."
"With more than what we promised him," Snowfall snapped, "The changeling stole the cash evidence we confiscated from the house."
Snowfall's protests came forcefully; she expected something to be done.
"We'll deal with Callidus' insatiable greed in due time," Twilight said, "Have all the targets been accounted for?"
“Er, yes. All but Sunset Shimmer,” Snowfall said.
Twilight glared at her.
“The one that poses the greatest threat,” Twilight said.
Snowfall was not sure how to respond.
"With Starlight Glimmer defeated," Featherglass interjected, "Shimmer may be deterred from rearing her head from the shadows."
"Or she'll want vengeance," Wedge countered.
"Sunset will return," Twilight expected, "Alone or with an army, she'll return. All we can now do is prepare."
“Your highness, about the prisoners waiting on adjudication - Lyra Heartstrings and Sunburst, if I may-” Snowfall began.
“You may not,” Twilight interrupted, “It was your foolish compassion that ceded Bon Bon over to the enemy. If we release them, the same thing will happen.”
Snowfall cursed herself for having said anything.
“Forgive me, your highness. I only-...I'm sorry."
Twilight sighed, exhausted.
“Do not think your loyalty has not gone unnoticed, Lieutenant. I do not wish to discourage you, but these are perilous times. I need your best effort going forward," Twilight said, meaning to spare Snowfall some menial praise.
“Yes, your highness. I understand,” Snowfall said, bowing. But she had watched the footage, as clear as anypony had. She had seen Twilight toss Starlight through the air. It didn’t seem unreasonable then to think Twilight was responsible for what happened in Ponyville. Regardless of the truth, she knew it was her duty to keep Twilight in check, to avoid any such outbursts of grotesque catastrophe.
“Your grace!” bellowed Marius Moonshine, storming through the marble doors at a thundering pace. Twilight turned her attention to him, although she was too exhausted for whatever news he had for her.
“It’s Ponyville!”
Lightning Dust’s ears perked up at the muffled sound of hoofsteps in the mud.
She glanced out from the cage, though the heavy downpour made visibility a challenge.
The others were all still asleep, though Lightning could hardly sit still.
She knew she had to do something, to save the others, to save Scootaloo.
She stood up in the mud, careful not to slip or stumble.
The silhouette in the rain materialized. Lightning narrowed her eyes, unsure if her eyes were deceiving her.
“Hey, everypony, wake up,” she said, startling the others all awake.
The figure reached the door, right as Lightning pressed closer against the front-facing metal fence. Bon Bon lifted her head, and saw what Lightning had alerted them to. She, alongside Kickstart, Scootaloo, and Suri, sprang up to their hooves, preparing for whoever was paying them a visit.
“Wallflower?” came Lightning, while the others excitedly began crowding around the earth pony, whose green curls were straightened out in the downpour.
“Keep your voice down,” Wallflower whispered, picking herself up from the mud. She smiled at the sight of the others all present and alive, with the exception of Callidus.
“How'd you get in here?' Suri asked, "Where’s Sunset?”
Wallflower’s smile broke apart.
“Uh, er, we were separated.”
“Where’d she go?” Suri continued.
“She went after Twilight.”
Suri caught her breath, glancing at Lightning, perturbed.
“But you came back for us,” Lightning said, eagerly, smiling with glee.
“Without Sunset?” Suri added, sourly.
Wallflower nodded, not unlike a child seeking their parents’ approval.
“Never before has anypony made such a heroically futile gesture,” Suri said, amazed.
"Suri" Lightning snapped.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Wallflower said, raising a ring of keys up for the others to see. Suri’s smirk fell to the ground.
“Turns out I’m good at going unnoticed,” Wallflower said, reaching towards the door to unlock it. “There’s a sewer tunnel, that’s how I came in. We can make it out that way,” Wallflower said.
"Better make it quick," Kickstart advised, stepping away from the door.
When the door came open, Wallflower began ushering the others to follow her off towards the shadowy edges of the depot.
“Hey!” came the voice of a guard stumbling towards them in the rain. He had his rifle aimed right for the pack of them, unable to make out who was who in the rain.
The shots came pouring out towards them. Five missed, hitting the metal of the cage or the compound walls. But the sixth would have burned a hole straight through Scootaloo’s head, if Lightning Dust had not darted in front of her. Scootaloo shrieked.
Lightning froze for a moment before stumbling down into the mud.
“Over here!” Wallflower said, dragging Suri and Bon Bon along behind her towards a smaller building, providing a limited source of cover.
Scootaloo had fallen at Lightning’s side, though Kickstart made an effort to force her along with Suri back behind the building.
Lightning was halfway to her knees, before she endured a second bullet shot that sent her spiraling backwards into the mud.
“Lightning!” Scootaloo screamed, fighting to break free from Suri’s grasp. Suri held Scootaloo tight, glancing behind her with wide eyes at where Lightning had fallen. Suri gritted her teeth, and could not allow herself to look any longer.
“How do we get out?” Bon Bon demanded.
“He’s in our way,” Wallflower said, her plan having fallen apart in an instant.
Kickstart had not moved much from beside the cage, where Lightning was lying, her blood mixing in with the mud.
Lightning was fighting the urge to black out, while noticing Kickstart staring down the soldier with burning bright eyes.
His breath was quick and heavy, as his teeth ground against each other.
“What are you-” Lightning meant to say, before noticing the smoke rising from the corners of his eyelids. Kickstart began to scream in agony, rising in severity as the smoke began to intensity around his eyes.
Two beams of red hot magic came shooting out from the pupils of Kickstart’s eyes, while he screamed the whole while. The soldier ahead cried out in pain, blood spraying along into the rain, when the beams slid through his chest, tearing through his flesh like a knife to butter.
Kickstart gasped for breath as his eyes simmered down. He blinked somewhere close to twelve times, before glancing at Lightning.
“Uh, what the hell was that?” Lightning stammered.
Kickstart shook his head, unsure himself.
“Hey! Let’s go!” Wallflower called out, waving for them to follow, before anymore guards could make it to the scene.
Kickstart helped Lightning to her hooves. She stumbled along at his side after the others, while the prowling searchlights trickled through the rain.
Redshift checked her watch for the tenth time, impatiently waiting for the train to arrive. They were meant to leave days ago, however the trains had mysteriously been stalled by order of Canterlot. She figured it was the work of Wedge Ward, that blundering oaf, or perhaps even Snowfall Glitter, in all her self-righteous arrogance.
Brandy Bow was held in simple hoofcuffs at her side, guarded by the other two guards, Twinkle and Toothpick.
At last, she could hear the whistle of the train in the distance, and hope rejuvenated itself. She would have hated to disappoint Twilight, especially with such an important task.
“Blondie!” Brandy exclaimed, catching Redshift off guard.
Redshift turned to see what Brandy was on about; and there were Rainbow Dash, Salt Shaker, and Blondie, gently shoving through the crowd to get closer to Redshift.
“Lieutenant, should we get her on board?” Twinkle asked.
“Just - stay as you are. Don’t speak,” Redshift snapped.
Rainbow, Salt Shaker, and Blondie arrived a few yards before Redshift, while the surrounding crowd of ponies remained relatively oblivious to what was happening.
“Let her go,” Rainbow said.
Redshift’s attention was more so on Blondie, who was a bloody, bruised mess. He could only breathe out through his mouth, as his nose was too clogged with blood.
Redshift’s horn ignited, and an aura of red magic wrapped itself around Brandy’s throat.
“Stop!” Rainbow exclaimed, “You don’t think I’ll tell Twilight about what you’re doing? Think again!"
“Then what’s to stop me?” Redshift laughed, rolling her eyes. The pegasus was even dumber than she had first thought.
Blondie reached into his backpack, catching Rainbow and Salt Shaker’s attention.
“This will,” he said, revealing the black briefcase, sticking it in the air for her to see.
Salt Shaker’s face fell, while Blondie began to put distance between him and the others.
“Blondie,” he said, horrified with having left the case unguarded, “When did you-”
“This is what you really want,” Blondie said, “The lock's worth more than the key.”
Redshift’s eyes were narrowed in on the briefcase. A grin found its way to her face.
"Blondie, wait," Rainbow said, panicking.
“Blondie, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Salt Shaker said.
Blondie glanced at Rainbow, who seemed to respect his decision.
“Let her go, and it’s yours,” Blondie said.
Redshift hesitated. Brandy was sputtering for breath, as if desperate to speak, though Redshift’s grip on her throat was overwhelming.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Blondie.”
Redshift released her grip on Brandy, and waited for Blondie to fly over and dump the briefcase at her hooves.
“Blondie, don’t-” Brandy sputtered. Blondie glanced down at her, confused. Redshift had already taken the case, however, in a flash of red magic.
“She knows,” Brandy choked, “I-I couldn’t take it. I told her everything. She knows how to open it,” Brandy said, before collapsing in his front legs.
Blondie glanced back up at Redshift, who was smirking the whole while.
Blondie spread his swings, as did Rainbow, and both took off straight for her.
Salt Shaker had already drawn his pistol, blasting a burning hole straight through poor Twinkle’s face. Toothpick would have suffered a similar fate, if he hadn’t raised his shield in time.
Rainbow was quicker than Redshift had accounted for; by the time her horn was charged Rainbow had already planted a kick across her face. Blondie followed after with a punch to the gut, sending her tumbling off balance. Redshift’s horn ignited once more, a searing beam of magic wildly lightning up the sky. The surrounding crowd had broken out into panic, stampeding in every which way, trampling each other in a mad rush to escape the chaos.
Blondie had his knife out, and slashed left, and then right, though each time Redshift was quick enough to dodge. Rainbow made another airborne kick, sending Redshift crashing facefirst to the ground. She had let go of her grip on the briefcase, which slid across the tile down towards the train tracks.
The 3:30 to Canterlot had just arrived, steam blasting to intervene in the squabble.
Redshift attempted to incinerate Blondie with a heated beam of red fire, though Blondie could outpace her long enough for Rainbow to smash her hoof down on the serpent-eyed unicorn’s head.
Nearby, Salt Shaker had Toothpick by the throat in one hoof, squeezing with all his might until the pony’s throat collapsed and snapped apart, loosely sinking in his grip. Salt Shaker tossed the corpse to the side as if it was little more than old discard.
Redshift grabbed at Rainbow by her wing and flung her threw the air, spiraling in a trail of loose feathers until she landed hard against a brick pillar.
Redshift moved for Blondie next, though Salt Shaker arrived first, swinging his hoof so hard into her face that she spun around twice, before toppling into a heap, out cold.
“The case,” Blondie said, sporadically scanning the area.
Both of them caught sight of Brandy Bow at the same time, dangling the briefcase in her hoof, standing delicately in the doorway of the stationary nearby train car.
“That’s twice I owe you,” Brandy smirked. She blew Blondie a kiss, and held the briefcase closer to her chest.
Blondie would have moved to pursue, if he had not been so stunned and exhausted.
They watched the train take off down the tracks, Brandy slipping away inside the car, once again out of sight.
Rainbow sauntered over, her lip bloodied and her face all bruised from the pillar crash.
“At least she’s safe,” Rainbow said, glancing at Blondie.
Blondie shook his head in disbelief.
The three of them stood there while the crowd of ponies slowly began to wonder if it was safe to continue milling about now.
“I warned you not to trust her,” Salt Shaker said, his voice hollow and faint, “There’s no heroes among us.”
“Maybe not,” Blondie said, “But don't look so glum. We’re not out of this yet.”
Blondie turned to the others, who were slumped over in defeat.
“We can't go back to Crozer with empty-hooves," Blondie said, "And that case can't end up with the wrong pony."
"It already has, lad," Salt Shaker laughed.
"I didn't take you as one to give up so easily," Blondie said.
"And what's in it for you?" Salt bellowed, "The girl?"
"A third of the prize," Blondie said, glancing at Rainbow, "And a third for her, too."
Rainbow slowly perked up, and even Salt Shaker seemed to be considering the proposition.
“Are you with me?” Blondie asked.
Rainbow glanced at the ground. Part of her knew she should go find Twilight, tell her of everything she's learned. But something told her that Twilight already knew. Her glare hardened, and she glanced back up to Rainbow.
“We're going to find out what's in that case, and why Twilight wants it,” Rainbow said, "And the bits don't hurt, either. I'll do it."
Blondie smiled, perhaps the first time Rainbow had ever seen.
They glanced at Salt Shaker, who took his time to put together an answer.
“You'll be working for me, this time," Salt said.
"Done," Blondie replied.
Salt nodded, and a grin grew across his face.
"My friend, it has always been a pleasure doing business."
Their eyes all wandered back to the train, now lost down the steamy tracks beside the smog-smothered factories.
Between two glossy marble pillars, perched by the window with a breath full of hot summer air, Sunset Shimmer watched the stars as they blinked down at her, witnesses to the red havoc she had unleashed on Ponyville. The burning aura was still visible over the hills, a hellish beacon in the dead of night.
Her eyes then turned to one star in particular, which seemed to be glowing brighter than the others. It continued to glow, and grew in size the same, and a smirk found its way to Sunset’s face.
She had waited long enough.
A thunderous landing marked the arrival of Twilight Sparkle just moments later, crashing down onto her old castle’s balcony. Ahead in the second story foyer, moonlight revealed Sunset Shimmer in direct sight. She knew Twilight would come.
“What have you done?” Twilight said, mortified.
Twilight had just noticed Spike, who was wrapped in tight chains, a strip of cloth stuck over his mouth. Sunset’s smirk grew.
“Let him go. Now,” Twilight said, igniting her horn.
“Not another step,” Sunset said, igniting her own horn, casting an opal aura of magic around Spike’s throat. Spike groaned into the gag, as she throttled him about in the air.
The moonlight may have been dim against the darkness of the castle, though Sunset was sure of what she saw.
“Looks like Starlight put up quite a fight,” Sunset said.
Twilight was fuming, helpless as Spike continued fighting for air.
“She didn’t deserve what she got,” Twilight said, “But you do.”
Sunset snickered.
"Killing you wouldn't solve much, would it? But you've still got a lot else to lose besides your life," Sunset purred, dangling Spike in the air.
“You've made your point, haven't you?” Twilight said, glancing at the smoking ruin of Ponyville past the balcony perch.
Sunset's eye twitched.
"All of this, all for her," Sunset muttered, glancing up at the ceiling, "Celestia would never run the same kind of risks if she was in your shoes."
"Maybe not. But I'm not her."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that."
Twilight narrowed her eyes.
"Does Starlight know what you've done? Do any of them?" Twilight asked.
Sunset shook her head.
"You know Starlight. She has trouble seeing the nuance," Sunset said.
Twilight scoffed.
"I gave you a choice to earn you freedom. You refused me," Twilight said, "If you didn't like the consequences, you should've done as I said."
"Everypony always has to do as you say. You used me up, destroyed everything and everyone I loved, and stowed me away, like an animal, or a toy you didn’t want anymore,” Sunset snapped, “You’re no different than the rest of us, it turns out. You just like to be coy about it.”
“You’re right. Maybe I should stop holding back,” Twilight said, igniting her horn again.
"What if I had gone through with it? Killed Ember and her little band of freedom-fighters, like you wanted? Would you be able to live with yourself anymore than you having done it yourself?"
"I guess we'll never get to know," Twilight said, dryly.
Spike’s face was bright red, while Sunset continued pressing her grip.
"It's cute you're still putting up the act, that this has anything to do with justice. If Ember and Thorax and the others had their way, you'd lose your crown. That's all you care about."
"Posh got Thorax and Ember afraid, and convinced them that betraying me was the only way to protect their kingdoms. This was never about me."
"I don't buy it," Sunset laughed, while Spike hacked and begged for breath.
"You and I both know what evil they were toying with, what's coming for Equestria," Twilight said, reaching out with her hoof, cautiously, "We were running out of time. If we did nothing, they'd have joined the enemy. All so they could gain what power they could. Their mistake was thinking I'd sit by and let that happen. I needed your help, and instead you turned against me."
Sunset snickered, amused. Twilight's eyes were locked onto Spike, whose cheeks were blood red, whose eyes were bulging at the sockets.
"I didn't turn you down because of any love for them. I turned you down because I knew even if I killed them all, I'd always be a loose end that you'd need to put down. You should have killed me right then and there, instead of sticking me in Hellhatch. It takes longer than you think to freeze to death. Now I'm the one with nothing left to lose, and you're going to regret it. You and I are the same, Twilight. Maybe it’s time the world knew it.”
Twilight froze in place, the instant she heard the crack, the sound of Spike’s spine twisting inside his neck. Sunset’s grip loosened, and the dragon fell to the ground, his eyes having rolled back, leaking foam from his mouth.
“Spike!” Twilight roared, igniting her horn. Breaking down into a horrified cry, Twilight overwhelmed the room in a magic surge of despair, blinding Sunset.
They disappeared in a flash of billowing white light.
Sunset could feel the grass on her back, and the breeze blew through her mane.
She opened one eye, then two, and found herself in a field somewhere; the castle was nowhere in sight.
There was a beach in the distance, over the cliffs, its waves crashing against the rocks below.
She was lying down, disoriented with how she had come to this strange place. The sky was grey, closer to white, and the wind was following the storm out towards the sea.
Sunset saw Twilight overlooking the coast from the edge of the ridge, silently.
Sunset rose to her hooves, weakly.
"There," Sunset laughed, "I burned your town to the ground. I killed your friend."
Sunset hardly had the strength to stand on her own legs, waiting for Twilight to turn around.
"So kill me," Sunset taunted, "Kill me, like you do everypony who doesn't follow along with your masterplan."
But Twilight did not turn. Sunset's smile began to crumble away.
"Do I have to beg?" Sunset said, "My entire world is destroyed, I have nothing to go back to. You killed Ember, killed Posh, killed Starlight. Why not me, too? Do it. Please. Let me die."
Twilight turned around. Her eyes were still leaking tears. Spike’s body lay near her in the grass, motionless.
"Death is too kind for either of us," Twilight said.
"Funny. It was kind enough for Ember and Posh," Sunset countered.
"Everything I've done is for Equestria. You think I'm happy that it has to be me? You think I wanted this? Celestia raised me to take her place, and if I had any idea what that really meant, I'd have dropped out of her academy before I ever started."
"Equestria," Sunset said, "Crooks, killers, and lunatics are who rule Equestria. What's worth saving?"
"Celestia let things get out of control," Twilight said, "That's why I had to step up. Equestria is still full of innocent ponies who need my help. And the rest of them ... even the worst of the worst can find a way to make a difference for the better."
"Not all of them," Sunset said, grimly.
Twilight glanced at the ground.
"I have a duty," Twilight said, "And I know how that duty ends. I've seen my own death, Sunset. I know how and when and where. But unlike you, I'm not trying to run from it. We're not the same, Sunset."
Twilight’s horn ignited once more, and Sunset braced herself.
But Twilight disappeared once again, taking Spike along with her in a flash of light.
Sunset was left alone there, kept company only by the raging waters below, that crashed and drew back out into the sea.
Blood slipped into the sewers in crooked currents.
The rain had finally given out, though the sun was still hidden behind a string of feathery grey clouds. They had taken up in a damp alley on the far side of the city, temporarily safe from prowling eyes.
Scootaloo was at Lightning’s side deeper down the alley. Lightning coughed, showing the first sign of life was paler than usual from blood loss.
“Dust," Suri said, "You don’t look so good."
Lightning managed a weak grin.
“Never better," Lightning said.
Suri wished she could have embraced her, but was too terrified of making the pain worse. Lightning seemed to understand her intent, smiling up at her.
“You saved me,” Scootaloo said, “...I’m sorry that-” she continued, before Lightning weakly grabbed her by the jaw.
“Don't be sorry for nothing,” Lightning said.
She glanced over at Kickstart, who had not said much to anypony since arriving there.
“That was some stunt you pulled,” Lightning said, “How’d you do that?”
Kickstart shook his head, and Lightning noticed his hoof was shaking slightly.
“Blackcoat experiments…Guess they weren't all for nothing,” Kickstart said.
"Next time you go crazy, warn me next time," Lightning smiled, struggling up to her hooves.
"Next time?" Kickstart asked, "I'm supposed to stick around?"
Lightning glanced at Scootaloo.
"We're gonna have to stick together if we want to survive," Lightning said, "That means we're gonna have to learn to like each other."
Lightning glanced at Suri, who smirked and shook her head.
"Good luck with that."
Kickstart glanced over at Bon Bon, who caught his eye.
"I guess you're alright after all," Kickstart said, hesitantly.
"Yeah, you too," Bon Bon admitted.
They all came alert, when Wallflower returned from around the corner, having left to make sure there were not any lurking patrols nearby.
"Hey!" Lightning exclaimed, staggering over to hug Wallflower, who nearly fell over from the force of impact.
"You saved us!" Lightning said, "I owe you one. Big time."
Wallflower smiled, easing Lightning back down.
"I'm uh...Sorry if I was a jerk to you before," Lightning said, "I just...It's hard to-"
"It's OK," Wallflower said, grinning.
"Look," said Suri, "Starlight’s dead. Sunset probably is too. Where the hell does that leave us now?” Suri said, flatly.
Wallflower glanced around them.
"The violence is only going to get worse," Wallflower expected, "Ponies will get hurt. It can be our job to help them. It can be our job to do something good for a change."
Suri scoffed.
"'Kay, I don't know if you noticed, but we've lost all our money, our new home, and our weapons."
Wallflower turned to face her, and for the first time, seemed to stand up without a hunch, or a whimper, or a bent-down head.
“We broke out of Hellhatch to have a second chance. Now we’ve got it. Maybe none of us are supposed to make it far, but we can try, at least. Let’s do it right this time. Equestria's in trouble,” Wallflower continued, "So help me do something about it."
Bon Bon nodded, as did Suri, and Kickstart, and even Scootaloo. All eyes turned to Lightning, who was adjusting herself against the grimey alley wall. She smirked.
“When do we start?”
Starlight Glimmer awoke in a cold sweat.
She blinked twice, then three times. She had suffered the most dreadful dream.
She was still lying in that bloody crater, facing up at the starlit night sky.
Starlight groaned, adjusting herself to sit up. Her horn shot off some stray sparks, and, with a few agonizing snaps and stretches, she had magically restored the broken bones in her legs and chest,
She was far too weak to move much, though she found herself compelled to stay regardless.
Her old world was far behind her now.
Those stars laced in the sky remained the shimmering vestiges of memories past, perpetually out of reach.
She found herself less inclined to keep on living in that dreamt fantasy, the one where she had ended up exactly where she had wished too.
For all the blood, and the terror endured, there the stars were still perched in their heavenly portrait. It may have not been the living legends that made her believe in heroes, she thought, but rather the ordinary things, the unsung acts of kindness here and there. Equestria did need a hero, Starlight assured herself, a real hero.
She slipped in and out of a sore sleep, to the lullaby of the crickets’ chirps and frogs’ croaks. She thought of Twilight, and Sunset, and Redshift and Snowfall, and knew in her heart that they would not escape the debts coming back to haunt them.
And the stars in the sky may have been shining brighter then, or at least she thought they were.
Set on a silver sun, in her own mad mind she could see it all quite clearly. She was smiling to herself then, holding onto the one promise she needed to keep her heart beating.
