> Dazzling New Life
>  by AFanaticRabbit
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1 - Sunset
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A dark and stormy night was the perfect time for Sunset’s nefarious scheme to be brought to fruition.
Inside of an old watchtower in a long-forgotten valley, Sunset worked by crystal-light. Shiny, gloved hooves pushed contraptions into place, while her pale blue magic attached cables to imposing, spiky clips in the ceiling with a heavy clunk.
Every twisted cable came down to a single, bulky piece of machinery at the back of the round room. Its face was covered in dials and knobs, each with their own labelled purpose, and each finely tuned to perfection. She had been so careful with her measurements, in fact, that Sunset had since taped or welded many of the knobs into place, to ensure they could not be changed by accident.
From that machine ran six thinner, finer cables, each of which were attached to figures on slabs. Each one was made of a mix of metal, silicone and leather. The latter was a rarity to come by in Equestria but necessary for Sunset’s work.
If she was going to show Celestia up, after all, she had to make sure that her magnum opus was perfect in form and function.
Sunset walked past the slabs one more time, adjusting the clips at the pins jutting from the figure’s necks, and nudging their bodies just so, ensuring they looked exactly how she wanted to, exactly as she imagined.
Thunder boomed, sending a gentle rumble through the ground and up Sunset’s hooves. She first spun her ears, then her head, to look out of one of the small murder-holes in the watchtower. It wasn’t ever wide enough to let more than a sliver of light in during the day, so the lightning striking the trees and mountain tops outside had barely any hope of penetrating inside.
At least, it couldn’t do so in a more traditional manner.
Sunset clambered up onto the ledge in front of the narrow window, and peered outside. She couldn’t make out much in the weather; not the trees just outside, of the cliffs and mountains that walled the valley in.
She could, however, see distant lights. Warm orange lamps that poured their heat out of windows and doorways from a small town near the bottom of the valley. It benefit from the river that carved the valley into existence, and served as a source of food and supplies for Sunset over the past while.
Beyond that, obscured by the fog, rain and clouds, was the faint, shining beacon of Canterlot, situated above most other peaks on the tallest mountain in the region.
Being able to see Sunset’s old home was a reminder, a motivator. It still, in a way, kept Celestia’s eyes on her, though Sunset was sure the tower went overlooked by everyone in that Sun-forsaken city.
That view also meant that exact spot was where she wanted enter the next phase or her plan.
No, the next phase of her life.
Sunset wanted to laugh. She couldn’t help smiling, and the joy and anticipation rose up inside of her like an insidious bile.
She forced it down. She had to wait only a little longer.
Rearing up on her hind legs, she placed a hoof on a breaker switch, connected by yet more cables to that massive, wall covering machine. The other hoof braced her inside of the murder-hole’s frame, and she threw one last glance at the outside world behind her.
A few moments later, she saw a flash, and another rumble of thunder followed instantly on its heels.
Perfect.
The machine lit up, overwhelming the crystals that hung in sconces meant for ancient torches. The dials and readouts ticked into life, many of them immediately flicking over to their maximum readings. Some lit up sequentially, row after row of information telling Sunset everything was going according to plan. The randomly lit ones were minor errors, well within calculated tolerance.
The cables leading to the machine vibrated, making the room hum and buzz. Little motes of electricity ran over their surfaces, sometimes even jumping from one cable to the other. The shining, metal coils on the machine’s sides glowed an aggressive shade of blue, and Sunset knew it was time.
She snapped on her goggles over her eyes, and flipped the breaker.
The smaller wires leading to the bodies shone brightly, little hairs heated to dangerously high temperatures that glowed as red as Sunset’s mane. Whatever power rushed through them made them flex and wobble, and one leading to the blue figure drooped down to the floor.
“Just a few moments more,” Sunset said to herself, and that was the trigger to unleash her laugh.
It started out as a small chuckle deep in her stomach, but it rose up through her chest and grew into a cackle.
Her creations twitched, all of their fake muscles and servos contracting and bending, moving their legs and heads and rattling their beds.
Then the bowing cable snapped. The circuit was broken with a terrible flash of energy that spiked through the rest of the contraption and its cables. Dials ticked over their limits, knobs broke free off their constraints, and other cables snapped or disconnected as the billion buzzing bees of electricity exploded through them.
In a blink, the entire room went dark, save for the glowing crystals by which Sunset worked.
There was total silence. The machine, now broken, made no noise. The coils still glowed but no electricity ran through them. Even the wind outside had quietened down as a presumed gap in the storm passed over the tower.
The figures lay inert on their beds, and Sunset frowned.
That was not supposed to happen. She had checked and checked and checked. Everything was exactly where it ought to be.
She snapped off her goggles with a hoof, pinging them to the far side of the room. “Dang it!”
Walking by the bodies, she stopped and looked up at her great machine. There were cracks in its metal plating, dials had popped free, and some of the cable connectors had fused to their ports.
It was nothing she couldn’t fix or replace, but the storm overhead would be long gone by the time she was finished.
Sunset turned, giving the machine a final, hard buck as she did, then stopped as she looked to the slabs.
All the fuzz along her back stood on end, culminating in her tail puffing out. Her ears spun forward, focused entirely on what she stared at.
Three pairs of shining eyes stared at her, all completely, unnaturally still, while their glow was overbearing and hid their owners in their glare.
That could only mean one thing of course, and the corners of Sunset’s mouth turned upward. Falling to her rump, she giggled. She chuckled. She cackled once again, and the tower echoed her laugh back at her in all its glory until her sides hurt.
At the same time, Sunset’s shoulders relaxed, and the knots down her spine loosened in a wave of relief. She felt light and floaty, while her hooves tingled in a delightful, prickly sensation.
Eventually, Sunset ran out of breath, forced out of her by the lingering knot in her gut.
The eyes were looking at her, and assuming it wasn’t a trick of her imagination, a hallucination brought around from stress or lack of air, they were moving slightly, glancing at Sunset, at the machine, at each other.
Yet none of that meant her experiment was complete. There was still plenty that could go wrong.
Sunset mustered up the strength to get back to her hooves, but right as she found the energy to again stand up, it all fled her again.
“That was weird.”
The voice wasn’t Sunset’s. It was melodic, dancing in pitch in so few syllables, but with an interesting, buzzing undertone.
“Come again?” asked Sunset.
The middle set of eyes shifted, and with several clanks, rattles, and thumps, fell about a foot or so. As they came near Sunset, she pulled one of the glowing crystals from her desk and toward her magic without looking away.
Gosh, Sunset adored her work. The figure in front of her—a pony, of her own craft—was perfectly made to exact measurements. She was a little taller than Sunset, a little bigger over all. Most of her body was covered in a layer of silicone rubber, a pale, opaque yellow, and shaped around a metal chassis. Even though she couldn’t see it, Sunset knew where her creation’s joints were, what they looked like. The only exception to the smooth surface was at key joints like the shoulders or elbows, as well as a ring around the neck. The last was important to allow her to run power to crystalline cores in their torsos. Up as close as she was now, the core glowed dimly through her creation’s faux-skin, a dim red light that gently breathed through her.
Her face was a whole piece of art to itself, separate from the masterpiece that was her body. Sunset couldn’t recall exactly where she had obtained the masks she used as moulds, but she remembered the days and weeks spent tweaking their proportions, lining up the tiny servos and links to give them as natural movements as possible. It was also capped with a thick, orange mane with strips of yellow, which was one of the few organic things about her. Some ponies got a little weird about parting with their hair, but Sunset found at least a few that changed their tune with an offering of payment for it.
It meant the scowl this metal and rubber pony wore was very convincing.
“Where am I?” asked Sunset’s creation in a flat voice.
That question gave Sunset pause. She hadn’t expected that to be the first question the pony would ask. ‘Who am I?’ or ‘What is my purpose?’ would have been Sunset’s first guesses.
After what was probably too long a pause, Sunset simply answered, “Your home.”
The pony’s eyes moved first as she looked around her, following the cables from the machine behind Sunset to the worn stone walls and mouldy wooden ceiling. At the limits of her vision, she stiffly twisted her neck. She lifted a hoof—one of the few pieces of exposed, polished metal on her—then bat it against the ground with a dull, thunk.
“No offence,” she said in a tone that implied full offence, “but this place is kind of a dump.”
Okay. That wasn’t what Sunset had planned, but this was okay. A sassy personality meant she didn’t have to teach that one how to talk, or that she was her own entity, as long as she obeyed Sunset’s orders.
“This is my lab,” Sunset said. “I’m the only one that uses it so it’s always in a state of, um, organised chaos, lets say.”
“I’d just call it a dump.”
That was another voice, coming from one of the still occupied slabs. It was a high, squeezed voice that spoke very quickly. Sunset floated the glowing crystal around the first of her creations to the new voice’s source.
She was constructed much the same as the first pony, only she was a shade of light blue all over, with a straight mane of alternating tones of mid- and dark-blue. Unlike her sibling, she was grinning ear to ear.
Sunset swung her crystal over to the other slab. The last of her creations, this one pink furred with a purple mane, squinted at her.
“Can you talk too?” Sunset asked.
“No,” the pink and purple one answered.
Somehow, it didn’t surprise Sunset that each of her creations were brimming with sarcasm. Like mad-scientist, like affront-to-life, she supposed.
When she swung the light back to the first of her creations, she wasn’t scowling as severely. Instead there was a glint of curiosity in her eyes, and she leaned down to look deeper into Sunset’s.
“Who are we?” she asked.
Sunset’s eyes lit up  and she hopped to her hooves. “Finally the question I wanted you to ask!” The yellow-orange pony swivelled her ears toward Sunset. The blue one looked surprised, and the pink-purple one…
She didn’t look much different. Her face was rather neutral, aside from her squinting.
There was enough humility in Sunset that she blushed. “Er, right. You are my creations. I suppose this lab is your birthplace.” The yellow-orange one grimaced, which Sunset ignored. The pink-purple one looked over at her, well, Sister Sunset supposed, and specifically at the ruby glow in her chest.
“’Dagi, is that what I think it is?” she asked in a drawn out monotone.
Sunset tilted her head. “’Dagi’? Come again?”
The one called ‘Dagi looked down at herself in one swift, stiff motion. She lifted a hoof up in front of her, and Sunset saw without seeing each of the joints and hinges as they moved precisely into each position. The leg moved up, the upper leg twisted inward, the elbow turned and her hoof was placed over her chest.
It was precise. It was perfect.
And so was the humming that followed.
The melody flowed over Sunset like a tide over a beach, and it took some of her vision and concentration with it. Her eyes struggled to focus while her head felt heavy. She shook her head, which cleared up the worst of the symptoms rather rapidly, but the feeling was still there at the edge of her senses.
It vanished entirely when ‘Dagi stopped. She stared down at her hoof.
“I think it is, Aria.” Her face twisted up into a brilliant smile, which she then directed back at Sunset, more fluidly yet just as quick as before. “You are lucky and seemed to know what you were doing,” she said. “Just the wrong amount of energy, or a simple crack, and you’d be having a very different conversation with a very different creature.”
“I knew exactly what I was doing,” Sunset insisted.
“So is that why your big thingy is all busted up?” asked the blue one.
“…Okay I knew what I was mostly doing. Still, that doesn’t change the fact that it worked. Now—“ Sunset stamped a hoof on the floor, its rubber glove dulling the thunk. “Can you explain why you’ve already decided on names? I made you, so I should get that right, ‘Dagi?”
“’Dagi?” asked ‘Dagi. She tutted a few times and waved a hoof in front of her, while the pink-purple one—Aria—stepped off her slab and made her way to Sunset’s flank. “No one but my sisters call me that. You may call me Adagio.” She pointed behind herself. “The ditz is Sonata.”
Sonata waved, and Sunset was weirdly compelled to wave back, before shaking her head again. Back on point, Sunset.
“As for the question itself…”
Sunset felt something shunt her in the backside and she stumbled forward into Adagio, her snout shoved against her shoulder. Before she could even think of wriggling away, Adagio had a hoof over her shoulder and held her tightly.
“I don’t think that’s important right now.”
Sunset turned her head awkwardly so she could actually breath and speak. It did feel good to be against Adagio, though. She was as soft as Sunset expected—she did bring her into this world, after all—and the energy thrumming inside of her made her feel warm and drowsy. “I think it’s pretty important! I made you, so I demand you tell me!”
Adagio tutted again, shaking her head. “I’m not the only one that finds this bratty act cute, right?” She turned her attention to her sisters, with Sonata now on Sunset’s other flank, giving an enthusiastic nod in answer.
“Cute!?” Sunset tried to push against Adagio’s hold, but the bigger pony didn’t budge in the slightest. “I am not cute! I am dangerously smart and intelligent.”
“Not really doing it for me,” Aria said. “It’s kind of just annoying.”
A weight fell onto Sunset’s back, stilling her, and she twisted her head just enough to see it was Sonata. She was on her hand legs, with her front half over Sunset. Since she’d started speaking, she was constantly smiling, but as Sunset and Sonata’s eyes met, her lips thinned and eyes drooped.
Sunset gulped loudly. That wasn’t at all how she had expected things to go.
She turned her head again, getting it to a slightly more comfortable position with her cheek flat against Adagio’s chest. A part of her was annoyed at herself for not giving them some sort of felt or fuzz as an urge to nuzzle in grew inside her, but Sunset was surprisingly comfortable against Adagio nevertheless. She was warm and soft, and while she didn’t have a heart beat, there was still a rhythmic sound coming from inside her.
“She looks pretty happy squished up against you, ‘Dagi,” Sonata said. She shuffled along Sunset’s back, and Sunset could feel Adagio push down her ears as she lowered her head. “Makes me wanna just nibble and smooch her. I bet she tastes pretty good.”
Sunset’s eyebrows shot up, and she stared at Sonata from the corner of her eyes. “Taste? You can’t—I didn’t give—“
A gasp interrupted Sunset as something clamped down around one of her ear. It ground it, pinched it, tugged it up and to the side. She shivered, this time with a pleasant wave that rolled down her back. She didn’t need to see Adagio to know it was her teeth that pulled her head up, that helped Adagio pull her around to face Sonata.
Sonata giggled as she pressed her face into Sunset’s. “Oh! I think she likes that, ‘Dagi. Do you like it?”
With her mind a little scrambled, Sunset struggled to find the words to agree. She just nodded instead.
“Good! Then I think you’ll like this too!”
Then and there Sonata disappeared into the crook of Sunset’s neck, where soft, artificial lips and nibbling teeth nipped and tugged at her skin and fur.
A faint, drawn out noise floated through the air, and it took Sunset a few moments to realise that it was her own voice. She didn’t feel it buzz through her throat, and instead it was just simply out there for her and her creations to hear. Neither Sonata nor Adagio gave up their biting, nor did they make any sound to indicate they noticed.
Aria, however, definitely noticed. Her frown vanished, and while it wasn’t exactly replaced by a smile, one corner of her mouth did turn up a little.
The two maintained eye contact, and Sunset was sure her cheeks were as good as glowing hot embers the way they felt, beacons to Aria that she was definitely enjoying the attention she was being given.
Sunset’s legs were a little shaky, and she felt herself dipping down between Sonata and Adagio. Neither of them let her slip far, however, as with both their forelegs wrapped around her, and the way she was squeezed between their warm bodies, Sunset could only fall so far before they hoisted her back up to continue their assault.
Aria approached the cuddle session at last, and she turned her attention to Sonata for a moment. For a moment she seemed to do some thinking, bringing one ankle to her chin. She spared one quick glance to Adagio before she nosed in and gave Sonata a shove to the side, making her stumble and briefly exposing Sunset’s body to the cold tower air.
“Whu—Aria! What gives?” Sonata whined, and Sunset was inclined to agree with the tone.
With a smirk, Aria took Sonata’s old position, and with it she erased Sunset’s annoyance with another comforting cuddle.
The kiss to her lips helped move Sunset along pretty quickly too, and Sunset was yet again glad she picked the materials she did, as the feeling of Aria’s mouth against hers was simply heavenly. Her lips were soft at first, but there was a certain firmness that built up as the silicone squished in that helped retain their shape and feel.
Sunset shut her eyes and leaned into Aria as much as she could—which was to say, as much as Aria and her teeth would allow. She reasserted her position over Sunset with an adjusted chomp and a squeeze from her legs, pushing out a sudden little squeak from Sunset’s throat. She felt Adagio’s deep chuckle buzz through her chest, and Sunset let out a huff through her nostrils.
Sonata grumbled, but if she was actually saying anything at all through it, Sunset didn’t hear it. What she did definitely make out was Sonata shoving Aria to the side, and tearing her away from her wonderful kiss.
“What the f—“
“You ask first!” Sonata said. “You don’t shove me out of the way! What if she didn’t want you to kiss her?”
Sunset blearily opened her eyes.
“So why would you shove me back? Besides, I think she was okay with it. Weren’t you?”
The question didn’t sound much like it was meant to be one, though Sunset answered anyway. “Yes,” she said, slurring the word. “Th-though as much as I like this, I really need you two to—“
“See!” Aria stuck out her tongue at her sister, another carefully crafted silicone blob, then turned back to Sunset, trying to squeeze in close to her once again. Sonata huffed and shoved her way in beside Aria, earning a growl from the sterner sister. That turned into a shove, then a small kick, then they both tried to latch onto Sunset at the same time while pushing and hitting one another.
Very quickly, the world around Sunset teetered to one side, and she was down. That said, she wasn’t quite on the cold, hard cobblestones, but instead sprawled out on her front over a frowning Adagio.
Fortunately for Sunset, the frown wasn’t directed at her, and instead at the two ponies still bickering from on top of her back. Their weight squeezed her middle, restricting her breathing, but her diaphragm and lungs still had room to get air into her lungs.
So Sunset filled them, then barked a, “Hey!” at them both.
Aria and Sonata immediately turned to Sunset, the former shooting her a scowl and the latter blinking in wide-eyed surprise.
With a cough, Sunset breathed in again and twisted around in Adagio’s hug. She didn’t want to tear her face from Adagio’s warmth, it was easier to speak to them.
“While this is kind of fun, this isn’t what you are here for. All three of you,” she added, sparing a glance to a now indifferent Adagio. “You are my creations, and I made you for a purpose, so get off of me and listen.“
She coughed when Adagio’s legs squeezed her middle. She could still breath, but it was enough to startle her, pushing the air from her chest.
“Look who grew a spine.” Adagio turned Sunset back around to face her, propping up the unicorn’s chin with one hoof and keeping her back pinned with the other. “Fine. I’m curious enough. What frivolous idea would you like to waste us on?”
“Waste—“ Sunset shook her head. “No, not biting it.” She shifted her legs underneath her, propping her torso up a little so her neck didn’t ache. “I made you to march up to Canterlot, into the palace, and to show up Celestia.” She grinned. “I am capable of so much more than she knows, and you three are proof of that.”
Adagio’s face remained an indifferent glare. “That’s it?”
Sunset nodded. “She’d have to respect me then, to take me seriously and give me what I deserve. Recognition, accolades…”
“But no power? You have us three and just want to show off?” Adagio snorted. “Please.”
“Well it’s—There’s more than that, this is important to me. Besides, you’re just snuggling me!”
There was the grin again, and though it came from beneath Sunset, it made her squirm.
“Yes, because that’s fun. Much more fun than being a display piece for some blowhard I’d rather wrap around my hooves and make blush.” She moved a hoof to the back of Sunset’s head, and pushed it toward her face. “And I think you will agree.”
Sunset frowned. As fun as it was to be close to those three, to feel their legs and bodies and faces against her, she didn’t make them for that reason. It was a waste of her talents to indulge herself like that. She was better than that, far better.
Right?
An airless sigh escaped Adagio’s mouth. “Girls, what do you think of her little plan. Is it really worth it, or would you rather play with her more?”
Sonata shrugged. “I think it could be fun to meet new creatures! It feels like it’s been ages, buuut—“ She shifted her weight on Sunset’s back, putting a joint of her foreleg into the small of it. “—I don’t think I wanna be treated like a toy or a pet. I’m me!”
Aria barely moved. “Sounds boring. I wanna taste her again.”
“What? No! It’s my turn Arry!”
Adagio laughed underneath Sunset, and turned her around and onto her back. She spoke into her ear, letting her voice drop down to a teasing growl. “There, the choice is made. All that’s left is for you to choose; stay with us and have some fun, or go do whatever it is smart-asses do when their plans are foiled.”
While the bickering continued above her, Sunset considered her choice. She considered it very carefully.
Then she made it.
“Hey,” Sunset said, this time with far less bite to it. Two pairs of ears and eyes turned to her again, and she put on her best smile. “Why don’t you two share?”
Aria and Sonata looked back at each other, and after a little indecipherable gesturing with their hooves, they turned back to Sunset with grins of their own. They dove down, snouts burying themselves into Sunset’s neck and sending tingles up to the tips of her ears. Adagio’s teeth fired them back down again, and Sunset moaned happily.
She could figure out what to do next when this was over.



Sunset’s creations—the sisters—took a lot longer to get their fill of Sunset than she anticipated.
She lay in her bed, dead tired from close to a full day of work and, ahem, recreation. Aside from all her machines and contraptions, it was the only nice thing she had, tucked away in the shack she built around the original entrance to the old, leaking tower.
Well, she had three more nice things, she supposed. Insatiable, teasing, fun things.
Ponies? Creatures? They had a mind of their own. They weren’t her creations anymore, not really.
She watched the red sun peek in through the window above her tiny corner kitchen, rising between the sharp valley several days walk away. The overlook Canterlot sat upon cut into the distant star, and little dots of airships fluttered back and forth.
Then Sunset looked to the bodies strewn around her. One was tucked under the covers, her head pressed to Sunset’s chest. She wasn’t sure if any of the sisters needed to sleep, but Sunset had a cat for a short time when she was younger. She knew when to let the cat win, even if it wasn’t snoring.
Turning her head, she was face to face with another of the sisters. Like Sonata on top of her, Aria’s eyes were shut, but Sunset could make out the glow of the lens-crystals through the gaps in the silicone. When they’d come down, all six eyes were beacons that guided her, and gave her only the most basic of information about what they were doing with her.
Adagio was the only one not on the bed. She was sat in the only chair in the shack, tucked in by a table on the other side of the door to the kitchen, below another window. It doubled as an eating and work space, and had a few of her books and notes stacked up against the wall.
The yellow sister watched the world outside the window, her chin resting on a hoof. The sun bounced off her eyes, making their violet gleam a violent ray that made Sunset squint. In that quiet moment, she seemed ancient. Shiny, pristine, but old all the same.
Sunset lay her head back into her pillow and shut her eyes. There were a lot of questions she needed answered, lots of things she wanted to figure out about the sisters. They already knew each other, they already had identities and personalities. Based on her research, everything Sunset could find in every available tome, she was sure she would need to teach them those things, or withhold them if that turned out to be the most optimal choice.
She also felt a little used. That was only fair, she supposed, since Sunset was pretty eager to try and use them, too. Maybe they knew before they learned of her plans, on some level.
They were definitely smarter than they let on. Even Sonata.
“How old are you?” Sunset asked, again looking at Adagio.
After she blinked and tilted her eyes over to Sunset, Adagio spoke. “I thought it was rude to ask a mare her age.”
“I get the feeling you’re not really a mare.” Sunset used a hoof to poke at Sonata’s cheek. “And I don’t mean the being made out of rubber and metal part.”
Adagio shrugged, and placed her attention back on the outside world. “I don’t know,” she answered. “Older than those two dummies, but we’re pretty close.”
Sunset wasn’t sure if the sound that came from Sonata was a snore or a snort.
“Does that help?” Adagio asked.
“A little.”
Dropping her head to the pillow yet again, Sunset listened to Adagio move to the front door.
“Don’t go too far,” Sunset said.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do. We went over this already.”
“I know. It was advice.” Sunset then giggled. “And I’d just like you to be nearby if I want you.”
Adagio made a, “Psht,” noise, then stepped outside, leaving Sunset to her waning thoughts and the rising sounds of birds and breeze.
“Besides,” Sunset muttered as she yawned. “I got a lot more questions to ask you.”
> 2 - Adagio
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adagio was missing something.

She wasn’t sure what it was. Trying to figure out what was missing when everything felt strange was nearly impossible, but she knew on some level.

Her hooves sunk into the muddy trail she walked, meandering through the trees that hid most of the tower behind her. She caught glimpses of its leaning, crumbling stone through the branches every once in a while, lit by the early morning sun, but the further she travelled, the less she was able to make it out. Only the width of the trail gave her any indication of where she had been and how to get back, marked with old hoofprints and cart tracks.

While Adagio believed she could trust her memory and sense of direction enough that she could easily make her way back, it was best to get familiar with the route.

The trees around Adagio grew more sparse, as did the trail. As the path wore down, it began to fork out in multiple directions, marked by old hoofprints. If she were coming from the other direction, she may have ignored them, thinking of them as nothing more than ever-changing hiking routes for foragers and explorers.

When Adagio reached the edge of the forest, the paths had all but disappeared. Just ahead of her the treeline ended and opened out to a sodden dirt road. Beyond that were fields, some fallow and some full, with barns and farmhouses interspersed between them on the gently rolling hills. Just beyond those was a town, right where Adagio had expected it to be from her glimpses out of the tower.

It was cosy and small, and none of the buildings were particularly tall aside from a few where the structures were densest. They were almost all roofed with thatch, with white painted walls and exposed timber frames. The few that weren’t seemed to be made of stone, as far as Adagio could tell. They were a little too far away to be entirely sure. A river ran through the town, and at a glance seemed to run closer to her side of it.

It sat in what was more or less a giant basin, with mountains circling the town, some close, some far. Adagio had climbed down the shallower base of a pair of them, and opposite her was another set of far taller mountains. Poking out the side of one of them was a series of tall, white and gold spires. It looked important, but it also looked to be at least a few days of walking away.

None of that told her where she was in the world. All she could tell was that she was north of Sunset’s tower, with the sun to her right. Sunset had mentioned they were in a place called ‘Equestria’, and while that did ring familiar to Adagio, it was similarly unhelpful.

Before Adagio stepped out from the cover of the trees and onto the road, she paused and looked down at herself. She lifted a leg and turned it over so she could see underneath her hoof.

Though naturally coloured as far as Ponies were concerned, she was also shiny and smooth. Not the pale pink or brown flesh of a shaven pony, but a bright yellow. That said nothing of the faint ruby glow in her chest, just beneath her snout in her vision.

Looking back to the town, Adagio looked for any route that she could take that would keep her out of sight. Unfortunately, given the width and breadth of the fields, their wooden fences and the meandering roads between them, sticking to the shadows didn’t seem possible.

Not too far away, however, Adagio did see clothes hanging from a line outside of a smaller home. They were dulled in colour, and most likely wouldn’t fit her if Sunset could be considered average-sized, but the large bolt of beige cloth fluttering in the wind could be useful.

Shrugging to herself, Adagio beelined for it.

Every moment she was out on the road and in the field, she felt watched. Yet every building she could see had its window shutters closed, and aside from a few bodies wandering around the roads further away, too far to see her in any real detail

Adagio snatched up the cloth, then tucked herself up beside the cottage as she threw it around herself. It had been left out in the rain, possibly by mistake, as it was heavy and sodden. Water dripped from its edges and it clunk to Adagio’s body tightly.

As much as it pained her to squish down her hair with it, it also helped make her little ‘cloak’ a perfect disguise. A few little tears gave her some strips of fabric to knot together around the throat and chest, and a little further tug on the hood brought it clear over her snout.

From there, Adagio was confident she wouldn’t be given a second look on her way into town. That was until she almost crossed paths with a pony in uniform, and she quickly took a different road that skirted around some of the houses on the outside of town. When she emerged on the street behind them, however, the pony just seemed to be delivering letters and packages, which left Adagio’s ego a little bruised and her paranoia diminished.

The streets weren’t well paved. That made sense for most of the alleys that Adagio skulked along, but even the larger, wider thoroughfares with clearly marked businesses were mostly dirty ruts made muddy by the storm the night before. Where she could, she stuck to the few stones or wooden boards that lined the edges of the roads.

As she neared the centre of town, Adagio found herself beneath an increasingly dense net of cables hanging from houses and poles. In some cases, banners and bunting hung from them, and while they looked similar to the cables back in Sunset’s lab, these weren’t frayed or glowing with energy.

Adagio also noticed she could sort of feel them, even from the ground. She was drawn to them, she wanted to stand near them, get closer and closer, but unless she wanted to draw attention to herself by scaling somepony’s house, she decided against satiating that curious itch.

With her eyes to the sky, Adagio bumped into a wall of fabric. She stepped back and examined what it was and found herself standing beside what looked like a market stall, with colourful fabric making up the walls and top. A glance to her side confirmed there were others, and she smiled to herself.

A market was a place where ponies gathered, which meant a place Adagio could blend in and potentially eavesdrop.

The first stall marked the start of an intersection before a stone bridge, and others sat at the corners of the intersection as well as in the middle. Some were open, filled with vegetables and fruits and tools and crafts, while others were empty. Regardless there were enough ponies around, buying and selling, that there was a small crowd for Adagio to disappear into.

Whatever Adagio was missing, it wasn’t the language. She understood the ponies around her perfectly well, even if the words were strange sounding. It was like all the sounds were just a little bit off from what she expected.

Adagio spotted a pair of mares standing at one corner of the intersection, speaking to one another. One with a fluffy orange mane pulled out crates from a cart and slid them across tables in front of another mud-spattered tent, while one with blue and pink curls watched her.

“That storm was crazy last night,” said the one with the curls. “Kept me up all night. I’m surprised you’re even bothering today.”

The redhead shrugged as she grabbed another crate, overfilled with carrots. They were big and pointy, and it appeared she’d even taken the time to clean them of most of their dirt. “I gotta make ends meet!” She shoved them along, clunking the crate into another. “And that much rain keeps me busy. I have to pull up everything quicker. At least with the festival, it isn’t like I’m going to run out of customers any time soon.”

Adagio stopped and turned, facing one of the stalls she happened to be passing. Thankfully it looked like it was in the middle of being set up, but with its owner absent and various little carvings were something she could admire.

Oh, that one looks like a fish. Cute.

“No rest for the wicked, huh?” The blue-pink one snorted. “I got all my candies ready ages ago. I’m mostly just making extra now so that I can give some of it away. Good advertisin’, you know?”

“Lucky for some,” said the redhead. “Anyway, are you just here to chatter and watch me work, or are you after something?”

“Did you say something about a festival?” Adagio asked. She kept her voice low in pitch and volume, trying to disguise its buzzy undertone. She was looking at the two, keeping her head down and peering more through her hood than under it.

The mares glanced at one another with raised eyebrows.

“Yes?” answered the blue-haired one. “Of course there is. There always is this time of year.”

Adagio put on a sheepish smile and dipped her head down, then added a cough. “I’m not from around here, just passing through. Can I ask what it’s about? Who’s in charge?”

“Are you alright? You don’t sound too good,” asked the redhead.

“I got caught in the storm,” said Adagio, and she waved a hoof at herself. She quickly put it down, hiding it back beneath the cloak. “Stupid, I know.”

“Yeah, it kind of was.” The redhead stared at Adagio for a moment longer, then clambered up onto the bed of her cart. The blue-pink-haired mare smiled, though it seemed more like it was out of politeness.

“Normally the mayor would be in charge of the festival, but I heard that someone from the capital is managing it this year. I don’t know much about her—“ She snapped her focus onto the red-headed pony and pointed at the crate she was dragging off the cart. “Beets! I need sugar beets, that’s what I’m here for.”

“You bought out my last batch the other week! How many of these things do you get through?”

Adagio watched in bemusement as the two ponies set off, talking at a million miles a minute. She tried to get back into the conversation between their bickering and haggling, but she caught herself before she rose her voice. No sense in adding more noise.

Adagio moved on and crossed the bridge before the three of them garnered more attention than she wanted. At the very least she could do a little more wandering and learn what was where assuming she was to stay anywhere near the town for long. Perhaps she could find a social spot, an inn or a temple.

Finding what could be considered a town square wasn’t too hard once Adagio found the main road. It was straight enough that all she had to do was see where it bowed out to its widest, giving space for a water fountain in the middle that some of the passing carts and ponies steered around. It was larger than she would have expected.

She kept to the side of the plaza, where some of the cobblestones gave way to mud again, and focused her attention on the buildings she passed. There was a higher concentration of businesses there, with signs above them. Despite recognising most of the script, Adagio had difficulty reading them. She had to rely on what she could see through the windows; furniture, writing supplies, and a bakery.

Adagio was a little surprised at how much glass there was. It was shockingly easy to see into even pony’s homes, catching glimpses of them working or eating. She paused briefly at one home, surprised to see a pony dressing himself, and he hopped over awkwardly to the window and pulled a set of curtains closed.

It was as Adagio was distracted by some dresses in another shop window that she came to an abrupt stop. Whatever she collided with bounced off her while leaving her unmoved.

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” she barked, and so did her obstacle.

A unicorn mare glared at Adagio from the ground. Adagio could tell her side was covered in mud on the side she fell on, having landed close to where the cobblestones transitioned to a dirt road. A smattering clung to her vest and shirt, and her lavender fur. Between the two of them were a pair of books in a similar state, with flecks of brown across their top covers.

Turning her attention to the books, she tutted and rose. “Great, explaining how this got wrecked is going to suck.” With her magic, she flicked one of the books and struck Adagio with a little more mud in the process, most of it landing on her cloak.

Adagio flinched and raised a leg. “Stop that. Seriously.”

“Your cloak is filthy already, a little more mud isn’t going to hurt.” The other book received a shake too, and when both were mostly, if not entirely free of mud, she held them to her chest with one leg. “Isn’t it a little late to be wearing that, anyway? I thought the storm was last… Night…”

She paused, purple eyes staring directly into Adagio’s, and Adagio felt the scrutiny in that gaze. The unicorn’s jaw clenched and she lowered her head, looking up into the hood.

Adagio forced herself to turn and cough, though without any lungs it was more of a very audible, “Ahem.”. When the unicorn didn’t back away, she added, “Stare any closer and you’ll catch what I have.”

“Glowing eyes,” the unicorn muttered. Adagio snapped her head forward just in time to watch the unicorn tug the cloak down at the front. “And that’s more than a fur pattern.”

Adagio shoved the unicorn away and backpedalled. “Hooves off. It’s nothing.” Her chest felt tight, and Adagio wanted to breathe, but her rising shoulders and expanding chest were no better than an illusion. She turned and began trotting away when something gripped one of Adagio’s rear legs. All of a sudden her hooves found no traction on the stone, and she slid back toward the unicorn.

“Stay,” the unicorn said. One of her books snapped open, and the other dropped back to the ground. Somewhere from within the pages she drew a pencil and started scribbling. “Somepony actually did it. Remarkable. Very convincing until closely scrutinised. No fur, odd choice, but expensive…” She paced around Adagio, though when Adagio tried to wriggle and follow her around, the grip on her leg tightened, keeping her rooted in place.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about no fur?” A little twist gave her enough reach to put a hoof out in front of the unicorn.

The pencil moved and pressed into Adagio’s leg, and the silicone scrunched up as it squished into it.

“A matte covering of some sort of pliable material. Rubber, I expect. Not sure what type exactly, but it has to be flexible to let you keep full movement.” She lifted the pencil again, scribbling something else onto the paper without looking away from Adagio for a moment. “What sort of joints do you have? Ball, hinge…”

Adagio smiled. The way Sunset spoke about her work made Adagio believe that she and her sisters were unique, and not many ponies knew about them, yet there was a pony in front of her, expertly dissecting her without a knife. She wondered if she should try and maintain the charade of being a normal pony, but it seemed a little moot at that point.

The mare was interesting, and somepony to keep in mind.

“Good ones,” Adagio replied. “What do you know about what I am?”

The unicorn tilted her head. “Enough,” she said. “I need to take you back home.”

Oh, that would be very good to know. “And do what, exactly? I’m certainly not opposed to a little personal time.”

“I want to take you apart to see how you work. You’re a walking, talking marvel, after all.” The book slammed shut, and the grip around Adagio’s leg tightened. “Walk. It’s not far.”

Adagio glared at the unicorn, and any semblance of a smile was gone. “I don’t think that’s happening.”

“Yes, it is. Go. Move. March.” The unicorn gave Adagio a shove in the side, to no avail. All she did was push herself back, sliding across the stones. When she tried again, with an added grunt, she slid again.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re supposed to move when I tell you! Unless—“ She bounced around in front of Adagio. “Unless there’s some sort of enchantment or thaumaturgic lock to keep you under only one pony’s control.”

Shoving the unicorn back, Adagio shook her head. “’Fraid not, dork. I decide what I want to do, and I don’t feel like being pulled apart.”

Very quickly, Adagio left the ground. The unicorn’s horn glowed, and Adagio felt like she was being pinched at the sides. “I’ll put you back together! I’ll just need to make some nicks and cuts in a few places, but you’ll hardly notice. Cosmetic damage at best.”

Adagio couldn’t let herself be taken like that. Without much else she could do, she kicked and thrashed, throwing her legs one way then another in a chaotic spasm. “Put me down, you idiot. I said no!”

The unicorn widened her stance while she clenched her teeth into a broad grimace, while Adagio swung through the air, side to side. With a little twisting, she found she could influence where she was going, even if just a little bit.

It was enough to land a grazing kick to the unicorn’s head, and she fell to the ground with a shriek. Adagio careened off, hit the ground with several heavy thumps, and came to a halt along the dirt road. She quickly stumbled to her hooves, while watching the unicorn do the same at the edge of her vision, holding a hoof to her head and glaring daggers at Adagio.

Not wanting to wait and see what that glare meant, Adagio bolted.

It wasn’t a particularly fast run. Not only did her heavy hooffalls sink into the mud, coming out with a loud, wet, schlop, but her legs also felt like they were constantly held back, while her joints whined through her body.

Adagio needed to get back to the main road, but a glance over her shoulder confirmed that the unicorn was hot on her hooves. Certainly, she was smaller, and probably not the athletic type, but Adagio wasn’t increasing the space between them by very much.

Coming up to an alley, Adagio turned into it and found herself in some shared yard space between several buildings. She didn’t get far into it before she realised she made a mistake and was stopped by a fence.

“Please just stop!” yelled the unicorn, panting and breathless in the archway behind Adagio. She’d stopped entirely, leaning one leg on the wall to hold herself up.

Adagio looked back to the fence and tried to hop over it.

She managed to at least get her front hooves over the top, and with some kicking pushed herself over, though she took the tops of some of the boards with her. Landing in a heap on the other side, she struggled back to her hooves, but when she heard the unintelligible, frustrated shouting behind her, she smiled to herself and continued out through another alley and onto the main road.

Plenty of ponies that were now out and about looked over at her, but Adagio ignored them. Let them look and consider her strange, they’ll forget soon enough.

Figuring the best route for her escape was to stick to the road until she found the forest again, Adagio continued along. The direction was perpendicular to where she had come into town, but it would take her out of it nonetheless. She just had to keep up the pace, which she found was shockingly easy.

As much as running felt laborious, it didn’t get any more tiresome. The shock of her hooves on the stone didn’t hurt, it just buzzed up through her limbs and joints. It was almost pleasant, but without lungs to fill she didn’t truly feel what probably would be an exhilarating run.

Adagio was nearing the edge of the town before it transitioned to farms, and was fast coming up to another bridge. There wasn’t much beyond it but fields, and the forest leading back home. If she could get there, getting away from the unicorn would be a cinch.

Of course, all of that fell apart when the unicorn materialised before her in a flash of pink light.

“What is wrong with you?” she shouted.

Adagio tried to stop herself, but being unused to her new weight—to her new hooves—she skidded across the stones, aided by some of the lingering mud still stuck to her. She did at least manage to swerve herself around and gallop in a different direction, galloping down another street that was also paved.

She wasn’t getting over the bridge that way. Nor was she truly getting away from her pursuer. She was making the unicorn sweat, for sure, but if she could just appear before her, it was only a matter of time before she was caught. She wasn’t sure if she could pull that trick off more than once, but it was best to assume she could.

The street ahead of Adagio narrowed, pulling away from the river to give space to a long, wooden deck. Adagio had spotted a few row boats tied to posts on the edge of the deck, but before she decided to jump onto one, her foot fell through the worn wood with a crash.

She smacked her chin against the floor, and her entire jaw rang. It was enough to rattle her senses, and for a moment her vision twisted, overlapping two differently tilted worlds over one another.

Her cloak was left behind as she clambered out of the hole she made for herself, but as she started running again the unicorn once more appeared in front of her.

“You need to stop right now,” she yelled. Both of her yelled. Adagio’s vision hadn’t recovered, and she shut one of her eyes to shut out the effect.

Sparing a glance over her shoulder, Adagio smiled again. “I don’t want to.” Then she leapt to one of the boats, her hooves already reaching for the oars.

She crashed through it and into the water, where she sank like a rock.

Adagio realised in that instant what was missing.

She didn’t feel cold.

The expected chill of fresh water didn’t hit her like a cart. It didn’t give her goosebumps or make her shiver. She knew she was wet and cooling down but simply did not feel it.

She thumped into the mud and sand at the bottom of the river, surrounded by roots and reeds. The water was murky, but she could see well enough above her to see the unicorn’s silhouette learning over the deck and down at where Adagio lay, framed by the remains of the boat drifting along downstream.

For a moment, she worried the unicorn would simply fish her back out with her telekinesis. Yet as she waited, nothing happened. There was no grip on her legs or waist, no upward tug to speak of. She simply lay there, in the dirt, untouched.

Adagio snickered to herself when the shadow disappeared, coming out as a weird, muffled buzz. She couldn’t hear the surface above her, just the faint rumbling noise of the water flowing around her, but she could imagine the unicorn grumbling as she stomped away.

Deciding it would be wise to stay for at least a little while, Adagio made no rush to stand up. After all, she didn’t need to breathe.

She did at least decide to try and stand up and pull off the riverbed’s detritus from her. In the dim, murky light of the water, it was hard to see it all, make sure every little bit was gone, and she was sure more would get stuck to her the longer she stayed underwater. That wasn’t to mention what a mess her mane and tail probably were by that point, but that was for her to worry about when she was long gone.

Something crossed over Adagio’s vision, splitting it horizontally. Opened her other eye, and she found the weird double-vision was still there, so she just shut the eye being disturbed by what she thought was a hair or some weeds and pawed at her face to try and pull it away.

After waiting what felt like an appropriate amount of time, Adagio attempted to push herself up and swim to the surface. To her dismay, however, when she kicked her legs and tried to push her way through the water, she just sank back down to the bottom. She attempted to swim a few more times, but each time was met with failure.

Okay, maybe she can’t swim. The banks on either side of her were too steep to climb, both being brickwork.

Alrighty. Maybe she could travel along for a little while and find a ladder or some stairs for boats. Maybe somewhere ahead the walls ended, and she could simply climb the bank and walk out.

Another line appeared across her vision, this time almost vertical. She opened both her eyes once more, then tried to pull whatever was stuck over her eye away.

That’s when she noticed she had more of the lines across her vision, and they were spider-webbing their way out where they crossed. No matter how much she tried to wipe those lines and cracks away, they remained.

A tightness spread across Adagio’s chest, and she stumbled along the river bed while rubbing at her face, pushing into the skin and going as far as to touch her eyes directly.

Her vision cracked into three different angles, then four then five.

Adagio needed to breathe. She knew she couldn’t but she needed to get to the surface, to keep pushing through the river. While she struggled to move over the rocks and mounds of dirt underneath her, she shut her eyes to block out the fracturing world in front of her. Between the current and the walls, she could feel where she was headed at the very least.

As she walked, Adagio was convinced she was dragging her legs through the mud, but try as she might to lift them, to pull them clear of the riverbed, she continually found them slowed down, bumping into stones or old posts and garbage. She was pulling herself along as much as she walked.

Eventually Adagio stumbled into something else. She paused for a moment, running her hooves over it to find two corners, one where the structure jutted out, and another where it continued along the river.

She must have found the bridge she tried to cross. She didn’t know what that meant for finding somewhere shallow, but it at least placed her somewhere she knew. Though, perhaps she could lift herself here. She might be spotted, but Adagio also figured she would be better found out than found dead.

Standing on her rear legs, Adagio felt around the stones for something to hold onto, to pull herself up with. She also dared to peek out of one eye and through the confusing, fractured mess she saw the shadow of the bridge over her, confirming what she thought.

She found a few bricks that stuck out underneath, and they were large and sturdy enough she could pull herself up if she could get a good enough grip.

With great effort, Adagio attempted to haul herself up but found that one of her rear legs refused to budge more than a few inches off the riverbed. Figuring it was just especially stuck in the mud, she continued pulling as hard as she could while trying to kick her leg free. The brick cracked, but it held longer than whatever it was that held her down.

At least that’s what she thought until she was surprised by the fact that she could, in fact, feel cold.

It wasn’t a refreshing feeling, enveloping her. It was like somepony took a pick and shoved it deep inside of her hip, and brought with it a sharp, numbing sensation.

She shivered, and in her growing sense of confusion and panic, she threw a hoof up for another ledge, another hold.

While Adagio managed to break the surface, she didn’t find more than a small lip of stone before the bridge arched over her. Maybe it was enough to haul her out, perhaps if she shuffled along to one side she could pull herself up onto the edge of the river.

The sensation in her chest wrapped her up tighter and tighter still, and the cold… the pain in her leg filtered through her, deep inside of her. While she’d managed to get her head above water for a few moments, she struggled to keep it that way, as she fought her weight for every inch that she shuffled along.

There was the corner, rounded but sharp enough to identify. Just a little more.

Then there was the bank, where she tossed up one leg, then the other. She pulled herself up enough her eyes and ears were above the water.

The cold reached her chest where, for a moment, it seemed like it would stop.

Her legs twisted and Adagio lost her grip on land. They kicked and she fell, while one of her back legs smashed itself against the bridge’s supporting stonework. She drifted back into the water and landed on her back while she convulsed and thrash.

None of that hurt. The cold pain had vanished, replaced with intense heat and a strong, overwhelming tingling, but it did not hurt.

After an eternal moment, everything came to an abrupt stop. The heat, the buzzing in her limbs and torso, it all faded away. She didn’t even feel cold in the absence of heat.

She also couldn’t move. Her limbs felt like they just weren’t there, nor was the rest of her body. Even her eyelids refused to obey her, pushed slowly open by the current and letting her see the dimming image of the bridge above her, torn to shreds and blurred by the water. 

She laughed to herself, unheard.

Well, that sucks.
> 3 - Sunset
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset wasn’t happy being forced out of her tower. It was comfortable, what she knew, where she could remain warm beside a pair of beautiful mares.

Instead, hours after the sun had set, she supervised Aria and Sonata as they operated a wooden contraption attached to a cart. Together they turned a large windlass, which lifted a length of rope through a pulley that hung high over the edge of the bridge. It was one of the few times she’d got them to do something for her without argument, but given what was at the other end, it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

When the limp, waterlogged form rose up in front of Sunset, she raised a hoof to the other two mares, who locked the contraption.

“She looks like garbage,” Aria said over Sunset’s shoulder.

Reaching into her lab coat, Sunset pulled out a black, metal cylinder and clicked the base. A crystal at the other end lit up, and she aimed the dim beam of light it produced at Adagio. “I really hope she isn’t,” Sunset said.

It was hard to make out too many details in the dark and through the harness around Adagio’s body. Still, Sunset could see enough to make a broad assessment. Adagio was dirty, with weeds and rubbish tangled in her mane and mud stuck to her skin. There were a few gouges across her skin, which was a shame, but nothing which couldn’t be repaired with a bit of patching and heat treatment.

“I think she’s missing a leg.” Sonata’s voice wavered, and it was a little too high and loud, but Sunset avoided shushing her.

She instead panned the flashlight over to Adagio’s back end. She was, indeed, missing one of her legs. The silicone flesh was roughly torn like the inside of a cake, looking rough and rocky. While she’d need to look closer, it appeared as though the joint there had sheered clean off, leaving just the connection at the hip.

Not an impossible fix, but one that would take a fair amount of work and calibration.

A hiss came from Sonata’s direction. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Sunset clicked the flashlight off. As her vision adjusted to the dark, she noticed an incredibly faint glow inside Adagio. “Maybe. Get her in the cart. We’re headed back.”

“We could just leave her there,” Aria said. “Like I said, she looks like garbage. Can’t be worth the effort.”

Sonata slapped Aria in the chest while shooting her an exaggerated pout and glare. Aria smirked back and shoved the leg aside.

“Joking, joking. But, like, seriously. Will she be alright?”

“I don’t know,” answered Sunset, “but we’re not going to find out standing here and talking about it. Again, get her in the cart. We’re going to be busy tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Sonata saluted Sunset and hopped to the crane again, turning a lever that pulled Adagio back to dangle over the bed.

“‘We’?” asked Aria.

With a frown, Sunset huffed. “Don’t start all that again, not right now. You two are going to help me.”

On hearing a rattling at the front of the cart, Sunset turned to see Sonata had hooked herself up to the harness. She didn’t quite fit it since it was designed for a typical mare’s proportions, so it bit into her skin in places. She hoped that wouldn’t cause any tears.

“Y’sure you want her pulling that thing?” Aria asked.

Sunset smirked at Sonata before she hopped up onto the cart and pulled the windlass’s brake lever, letting Adagio drop to the bed with a sodden thump. “I’m not strong enough, and she volunteered. Are you saying you want to take her place?”

Aria backed up a step and shook her head. “No, thank you. I can feel my shoulders aching already.”

Sunset lifted her head and turned forward before giving the side of the cart two thumps with a hoof. Miraculously, Sonata understood the signal and started back the way they had come. Aria followed behind, swivelling her head one way and another, something Sunset had discussed with the pair before heading into town.

After unclasping the harness and pulling it away from around Adagio, Sunset ducked down to examine her body more closely. River water pooled onto the wood, dribbling from her mane and tail and out of her leg and presumably out of whatever deeper cuts and scrapes Adagio had suffered. Touching her body revealed that she was cold to the touch, save for a bit of warmth where the faint glow of Adagio’s core pierced through the strongest.

Sunset was reluctant to roll Adagio around in the cart, so she couldn’t properly examine the broken joint. Instead, she checked her front, clicking the flashlight to life again to make out the details.

When Sunset gently pulled Adagio’s eyes open, she sighed. The lenses were cracked, and when she poked at one of them, turning the eye down, water trickled out of the seams.

There wasn’t much she could do about that then, so she moved to the rest of Adagio’s body.

On closer inspection, most of the cuts on her skin were superficial. They were a mixture of cuts and scrapes, which meant an assortment of different fixes would be needed. The clean cuts would be the easiest, treatable with some carefully applied heat.

Sunset did this with a bit of help from her horn. The cart’s bed glowed around her as she summoned a little fire mote. She directed it closely to Adagio’s skin in a few places, letting the wounds remain open for a moment before pushing them together. In a blink, the ball of energy turned blue, rapidly cooling down the material, and then winked out of existence. A little pulling and squishing on the damaged surface showed no damage.

Everything on Adagio’s other side, and the deeper scrapes where material was lost, would need to be repaired back in her lab.

“Hey, Sunny, where do I turn?” Sonata asked.

Rising back to her hooves and leaning over the front, Sunset squinted into the night. They were along the road to her forest, just outside town, but she wasn’t sure where exactly. Not that it mattered much; Sunset had walked the routes plenty of times and had worn down plenty of hard-to-spot tracks. “Take the first gap on the left that’s big enough,” Sunset said. “Most ways in are fine.”

Turning back to Aria, Sunset asked, “See anyone along the way?”

Aria shook her head, her glinting eyes giving away the motion. “Nada. Saw some timberwolves, which was cool, and some birds—owls, I think—but that’s about it.”

Sunset chuckled. “I figured you could see well, but that’s impressive. Normally they keep well away from fire and groups, so we should be fine. How’s the clarity?”

“Almost like daylight. I could count the knots in their bark.”

Sunset whistled, then lowered herself as the cart jostled over the rougher ground in the forest.

It wasn’t long before the three of them were out from beneath the cover of the trees again, approaching Sunset’s tower. The stars above twinkled between the passing clouds, like eyes watching Sunset and the sisters at work.

Sunset clambered out of the cart while Aria squeezed past her and lifted Adagio onto her back.

“So, what sort of help do you need from us?” Aria asked. “I ain’t sure what I can actually do to help dead weight here—“

“Don’t say that!” Sonata snapped.

Rolling her eyes, Aria continued, making her way to the shack at the base of the tower and into Sunset’s home. “I ain’t got the skills or smarts that you do, ‘least as far as this stuff goes. I can outsmart you plenty elsewhere, though.”

“I’m ignoring that,” Sunset said while Sonata managed a little laugh. “As for what I need from you, one of you will need to be very, very still for a while.”

Aria and Sunset glanced behind them at Sonata disentangling herself from the harness. She paused and blinked at them before asking, “What?”

“Fine, I’ll do it. Can’t be that hard to sit still and do… whatever it is you want me to do.”

The shack was made out of old and discarded wood, it wasn’t the most secure structure, but the inside was dry and mostly breeze free. It sat at the old entrance to the tower, and the four of them ascended the first set of stone stairs to the level where Sunset’s lab was.

Things were still messy. The damaged, half-melted cables still lay across the floor while the smell of smoke lingered in the air. Sunset hoped that whatever was making the smell wasn’t still burning.

“Set her on one of the tables, and get on one next to her.” Sunset retrieved her gloves from where they were discarded onto the ground during the previous night’s tussle, then pulled them over her forelegs. “Sonata, go check the floor above for loose cables. I don’t need a lot, enough to reach between two of the tables with a bit extra for slack.”

Adagio dropped to one table in a heap, then Aria climbed onto another, laying on her front. Resting her head in her hooves, she asked, “So, doc, what are you gonna do?”

“Her energy core is still powered up,” Sunset explained, pointing at Adagio’s chest, “but I’m not sure for how long.” Sunset rolled Adagio onto her back and grimaced. The hinge was most definitely sheered through. Attaching a new leg would be a royal pain in the flank. “I’d rather see if she’s totally dry inside before we try this, but I’m not sure I want to find out what happens to her if she runs completely out of energy.”

Aria blinked. “Uh, that doesn’t sound good, but I meant what about me.”

“Oh.” Sunset turned back to Aria. “I’m going to plug you two together to share power. I have no real idea what it will do to you, either, but there’s only one way to find out.”

Rising on her front legs, Aria’s eyes widened. “Hang on, what? Why not use your big zappy-dially-thingy?”

Sonata appeared at the top of the spiral stairs leading to the top level, a cable loop hanging around her neck. “Duh, it’s broken.”

Aria glanced up at Sonata, then at Sunset, who shrugged.

“She’s right. I can smell smoke, and I’m pretty sure some vital parts popped last night. Any juice they stored will have drained away, too.” She pulled out a box of jagged metal clips. “Not sure how she knows it’s broken, though,” she added quietly.

“Okay, but if you’re not sure what’ll happen to me, isn’t that also, like, incredibly bad?” Despite her concern, Aria slowly lowered herself back down.

After Sonata hoofed over the cable, Sunset unspooled it, then pulled it out into two long strips. “I’m mostly certain you’ll be fine afterwards. It just might be a little weird in the moment.” She held out the bent end of the cable to Sonata. “Bite.”

Sonata dutifully bit down on the cable. It snapped under her teeth, leaving Sunset with two long strands and Sonata with a copper nibble.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

“Your core goes pop.”

Aria bolted upright again. “What does that mean!?”

Sunset jabbed each end of the cables into the base of the clips, then crimped the metal against them with another tool. She attached an end of each cable to the bolts jutting from Adagio’s neck. “Look, I don’t want to waste time arguing. You can either trust me or not. Your choice.”

Aria stared at Sunset for a few moments, then looked at the cable clips. With a sigh, she nodded and did what Sunset assumed was her best attempt to relax back onto her belly. “This better work.”

With nothing more to say, Sunset stood beside Aria. She attached one clip to her neck, then breathed out slowly before attaching the other.

The noise that filled the air was like an angry swarm of bees. Aria and Adagio convulsed on their tables, which sent Sunset jumping forward to try and remove the cables. Then she noticed the jerky, tensed motions of Aria’s legs and her jaw clenching up. A few smacks against the table later, and all her writhing stopped, save for one hoof that dragged against the bare metal.

“That looked painful,” Sunset muttered. “Aria? How are you feeling?”

“I am going to cuddle you until you can’t breathe,” Aria said through her teeth.

“I’ll take that as a ‘good enough’.”

Looking over at the other table, Sunset saw that Adagio had also gone still.

Sunset stood over her creation as she lay on her back, her head bent backwards, and saw the ruby warmth return to her chest. With a sigh, she fell to her haunches and smiled.

“Why’re you smiling? Did it work? Can I get these stupid things off?”

Sunset nodded. “Her core seems to be winding up again, but I want you hooked up for a while. She’s not awake, which is still a little worrying, but maybe it’s just a matter of waiting a little longer.” Standing back up, Sunset glanced around the lab, only finding three occupants. “Where’s Sonata?”

Sonata appeared from the upper level again, that time with some planks. Sunset wasn’t sure how, but she’d lashed them into something vaguely leg shaped. She’d even attached a small pot to the end, with the handle trimmed off.

“There’s Sonata.” Sunset tilted her head. “What Do you have there?”

Giggling on her way down the stairs, Sonata triumphantly held up the makeshift limb. “A replacement! There was lots of old wood and some nails. I know it’s not perfect, but I haven’t seen anything that looks like a leg we can use. I’m sure she’ll like it.”

Sunset opened her mouth, then shut it with a click of her teeth before looking over to Aria, who simply shrugged.

“Fair enough, but I need to work out how things actually broke before I can fix her leg at all—Hey!”

Sonata spat a few nails onto the table before dropping the wood limb on the floor. Gripping it in her fetlock, she lined up a rusty nail with the other and smashed it against the joint. Darting over, Sunset attempted to push Sonata away, but the bigger mare-bot simply shunted her back with one of her rear legs. She smacked the nail again, and then a puck of metal fell to the floor, ringing on the stone as it spun.

“What in Tartarus are you even doing?” Sunset yelled. “You’re going to break something! You’re not even using the right tools, for goodness sake.”

None of that phased Sonata as she twisted another part of the fake leg, turning the wood, so an end was lined up with the nail where it poked through the joint. She pushed the boards with both legs, producing a not-entirely pleasant cracking sound, and the nail snapped through.

Then she stepped back and gestured at her hoofwork. While it seemed to match Adagio’s proportions, Sunset wasn’t sure that the limb could hold weight. Between the rough treatment of the damaged parts and the play in the joint, she was sure there was more damage to come.

Sonata smiled at Sunset with nothing but glee and pride in her eyes. “Tada!”

Putting a hoof to the bridge of her muzzle, Sunset shut her eyes and breathed in deeply. “I can’t believe I got outwitted by you last night,” she muttered.

“Says a lot about you, huh?” Sunset fired a glare at Aria’s returning smirk.

Sunset made her way over to her desk at the edge of the lab. Unlike most of the rest of the furnishings and tools in the tower, that was one of the few nice-looking things, though it was nonetheless a little worn, and most of its polished had long gone. Made from several pieces of dark wood, it had plenty of drawers and shelves and several swinging compartments above the counter, some of which were still open. In the middle was a blotter filled with gutters and grooves from months, and probably years, of work.

Swinging one of the top compartments around, Sunset retrieved two cut gems from a pile. They were similar in size and shape to each of the sisters’ eyes, roughly ovoid and slightly curved. She peered through them, and the world on the other side turned a shade of purple but remained quite clear.

“New eyes?” Sonata asked, and Sunset nodded.

“New lenses. If the eyes themselves are broken, that’s going to be trickier to fix, but we won’t know if that’s the case unless she wakes up.” Making her way back over to Adagio, Sunset pulled out a tool that looked like a blunt knife with a rounded tip. “Sonata, lift her head and shoulders up for me.”

Sonata, seemingly wanting to behave again, did as she was asked.

The upcoming work was painstaking and frustrating and involved jamming the little tool into the impossibly small seams between the lens and mount in one of Adagio’s eyes.

The broken pieces popped out in two large chunks, then lots of little shards that fell over Adagio’s chest, leaving a hole where the lens was. A little more water trickled out with them.

“Geez, that looks creepy.” Aria shuddered. “Kinda like some weird doll.”

“We’re all weird dolls, Aria,” Sonata said with eery cheer.

“Yeah but… She’s taking out her eye. That’s weird, even if she made us.”

Clearing her throat, Sunset said, “Quiet, please.” The other two sirens shut their mouths while Sunset placed one of the working lenses into the mount. A firm push, then a few taps at the top and bottom, followed by a click, was all Sunset needed before she put the tool to the other eye.

She jerked away when the eyes’ owner blinked, and then Sunset heard the rapid, buzzing wheezes. Sunset and Sonata shared a look for a moment. Meanwhile, Sonata moved her hooves from behind Adagio to atop her shoulders, pushing her against the table.

“Don’t constrict her,” Sunset ordered, and Sonata backed off while Sunset clambered onto the table, looking down at Adagio. With life once more commanding the gizmos and gears beneath, Adagio’s face again took on the qualities of a piece of art, sculpted and moulded to perfection. It was twisted into an open-mouthed frown and carried so much pain and confusion. None of that took away from Adagio’s beauty.

Moving her head down, Sunset brushed her nose to Adagio’s, and the sounds of windless breathing slowed. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

The air was forced from Sunset’s lungs when Adagio’s legs wrapped around her chest, pinning them together. Her eyes bugged out for a moment, and her cheeks puffed up. Still, she calmed down when she spotted the relief on Sonata and Aria, in the way their bodies visibly relaxed.

“You need to make me waterproof.”





The top of Sunset’s tower provided an excellent view into the valley it presided over. Sunset sat there and watched the golden rays banish thin early morning fog and paint the fields and trees orange. Any remnants of the storm had long since vanished, as the stonework and parapets were bone dry.

And so was Adagio.

The golden mare’s mane was still limp, but all the detritus stuck in her curls had been brushed out. Some of it was attached to Sunset in trade, but that was something she could live with.

She also had puncture marks on her sides that led deep to her chassis. Some moisture glinted inside them, but the water that flowed out hours ago had dried up since.

She was also warm again, and with Sunset’s ear to Adagio’s chest, she heard her core gently thrumming away within her. It was occasionally interrupted by scraping from the makeshift joint at Adagio’s left hip. It stuck out awkwardly before her, not quite bending the right way.

Sunset turned her head to look up at Adagio. She didn’t turn her eyes off the valley, her expression remaining neutral. Her right eye was still cracked, with dozens of little spider webs radiating from the middle like jagged wheel spokes. The new lens in the left was a slightly different shade.

The two had sat there for a few hours by that point. Aria and Sonata had been banished to Sunset’s shack after a gleeful reunion hug from Sonata. That left Sunset free to work, but Adagio had been restless. She wanted to move, and Sunset relented and took her to the top of the tower.

Putting a hoof to Adagio’s chin, Sunset turned her head and looked into the broken eye. “You should really let me take care of this.”

Adagio’s expression remained unchanged, although she lifted a leg and wrapped her ankle around Sunset’s. “Leave it.”

“It won’t be hard,” Sunset said, her tone insistent,” it’ll only take me a few minutes at most if the pieces are jammed together.”

Adagio sighed and shook her head. She pulled Sunset’s hoof away before turning back to the view. “No.”

Okay, the cryptic comments were out.

It wasn’t what Sunset had expected. She knew at some stage her creations would likely gain some personality—it was baked into their designs at an intrinsic level, but Adagio and her sisters…

They were definitely a surprise.

Sassy, sarcastic, confident and independent. That last fact stood out so firmly to Sunset. Not just in how they came to their own decisions, but each had their own reasoning and thoughts. Not only that, but they were creative and curious, two aspects Sunset found endearing.

Then Sunset glanced at Adagio’s makeshift limb.

Well, she found them endearing most of the time.

“What did you learn out there today?” Sunset asked Adagio.

The broken eye flicked over Sunset’s way, then back to the valley.

“Trying to eke out some sort of morality lesson or something?”

Chuckling, Sunset simply shook her head. “No, I just… want to know. You were out for a reason, and I probably should have got my butt out to either stop you or help you.”

“Probably,” Adagio agreed, nodding, “but then you’d have the other two to lug along on my first misadventure. Need I say more?”

Sunset answered by shaking her head and laughing again.

A tiny smile crept across Adagio’s lips, and she pointed to the town with a hoof. “I didn’t figure out what that place’s name is. Never thought to ask.”

“Ponyville,” Sunset answered. “A quaint little backwater dead in the middle of Equestria. Somehow, despite the location, all the modernisation it’s managed to see is a railroad.”

“A what-now?”

Sunset thought for a few moments about how to explain that to Adagio. She might well understand it, but it would take time and energy that Sunset and Adagio both likely didn’t have. “It’s probably best to show you one day. We’ll get you a better disguise or something and go back into Ponyville.”

“That’ll be a good idea. I think I might have a fan down there.”

“Should I be worried?” Sunset asked.

There was a pause, then with a shrug of her shoulders, Adagio answered, “Maybe. She seemed to know what I was and was very insistent on finding out more about me.”

That fact snagged in Sunset’s mind. Another pony that could identify Adagio’s nature was a pony to be worried about or a possible ally.

“Do you know what you actually are? As in the proper name for the type of construct you are?”

Adagio shrugged again. “Never crossed my mind. I’ve had more important things to think about.” She flashed her teeth at Sunset and got a bashful smile in return.

“Um, well,” Sunset stammered a little. “You’re a golem, which isn’t really something a lot of ponies even know exists. It’s one of those technologies we’ve seen come and go throughout history, but the specifics never stick around for very long. Most ponies that find out about it dismiss it as folklore or whatever.”

“Except for you and her.”

Sunset nodded. “Maybe I could find and talk to her one day. For now, though, maybe we should limit your visits to Ponyville or do a better job of disguising you and the girls.

Nodding once more, Adagio let silence fall between them once again. Her good eye scanned over Ponyville from right to left. They could see the bridge they’d rescued her from where they were, just a sliver over a dark line where the river lay.

She raised her hoof again, a little higher. Sunset followed the invisible line Adagio made toward the mountains in the distance. “And that place on the mountain?”

For a moment, Sunset’s gut clenched. She forced herself to breathe in and then exhale slowly before answering in a level tone. “Canterlot. The capital.”

Adagio’s head whipped around, and she stared at Sunset with an exaggerated raised and furrowed brow.

“…What?”

“Sunny, you don’t strike me being that stupid.”

It was Sunset’s turn to furrow her brow.

“Oh for—“Adagio put a hoof to her face. “You live in a shack in a crumbling tower doing apparently marvellous things. You admitted you made my sisters and I for revenge—“

“It’s not revenge!” Sunset protested.

Adagio waved her hoof dismissively. “Whatever. My point is you’re definitely trying to avoid authority. So I need to ask, why here?”

Sunset felt pinned back by Adagio’s gaze. The broken alone was enough to leave her squirming, but Adagio’s good eye was piercing through her, and despite all the space behind to scuttle back, Sunset was stuck.

She looked over to Canterlot, gleaming on its mountain perch, bouncing golden rays across the sweeping hills and dense forests to Sunset and Adagio.

Telling a lie would be impossible, Sunset decided. She set her jaw and looked back into Adagio’s eyes. 

“The same reason you’re refusing to let me fix your eye,” she said. “It’s a reminder.”

The moment stretched out between them, and Sunset worried she wouldn’t be understood or she overstepped a boundary with Adagio. Wind through leaves and distant birdsong filled the silence.

“A reminder for what?” Adagio eventually asked.

“That I made a mistake. It kept me focused when my experiments failed or when I had doubts. Any time I thought about giving up, I looked out from here or the window in my lab and saw that stupid palace.”

“And she’s there, right? Celestia, you said her name was.”

Sunset nodded, and at last, Adagio’s expression softened.

“I still think it’s stupid to stay here, but… That makes sense to me, I guess.” She sighed and shut her eyes briefly before opening them again with a soft smile.

Then Adagio sighed and shut her eyes before reaching forward and wrapping her legs around Sunset again, pulling her face into Adagio’s chest. Breathing in, Sunset filled her nose with the smell of earth and water and the faint smell of oxidised metal and burnt rubber.

She lifted her legs to Adagio’s side, following the small boreholes. To her surprise, Adagio twitched when she touched them, and Sunset lifted her chin up with a grin.

“Either that hurts, or your ticklish,” she said.

Adagio’s jaw tensed, and she squeezed Sunset a little tighter, squeezing some air from her lungs. “I’m not saying.”

Gosh, Adagio was stubborn, but Sunset found she liked that about her.

However, she could do with being knocked down a few more pegs, and Sunset brushed her hooves up and down Adagio’s sides. In response, Adagio tensed her face into a thin-lipped smile, scrunching up the bridge of her nose. She curled her legs against her while she squirmed and wriggled, shaking her lower half. In her fidgeting, Adagio rolled onto her back.

Sunset took advantage and rolled on top of her, attempting to use her weight to pin Adagio’s good leg down by straddling it. Meanwhile, her hooves continued their work, shifting from flank to shoulder in gentle, unpredictable movements.

The whine that rose from Adagio made Sunset laugh, and she doubled her efforts, pressing her body to Adagio’s convulsing form. She closed the gap between them, getting their faces just shy of touching when Adagio giggled.

“Glad I was able to prove that hypothesis,” Sunset said. “Constructs are capable of being ticklish, but you are just one case. I need to do some more studying before I can be sure of how true it is or if you’re some kind of anomaly.”

Then Sunset dipped her head down and bit Adagio’s neck. It wasn’t too firm, but she knew the material’s limits and how much pressure she could apply before damaging Adagio’s skin.

That got her a good kick to the shoulder, ripping her away from Adagio for a moment. However, the attempt to dive back in was ill-timed as she came into contact with another wildly swinging hoof that sent her hurtling across the stones.

Sunset blinked a few times, staring at the pink and orange sky. A great flare took the place of her nose, overwhelming any other feeling or smell. Slowly, she sat herself up and wiped her hoof over her nose. It came away bloody.

She looked up at Adagio, who looked back to Sunset with a wide-eyed frown.

“I—I’m sorry! I couldn’t stop myself—“

“It’s fine,” Sunset called back. Her voice was painfully nasally, and she turned her head to cough. “I shouldn’t be testing you like that. It’s my fault.”

“But—Your nose, I did that!”

Sunset shakily got to her hooves and held her leg to her snout. “Let’s just say it’s both our faults and get me a bandage,” she said. “I’m sure I have some gauze or linen somewhere. And then…” Sunset shook her head. No dizziness and the sleepiness wasn’t new. “I think I should get some sleep.”

Adagio looked uncertain, but she nodded. Without a word, she was back at Sunset’s side, guiding her with a leg and her flank to the stairs.
> 4 - Aria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Since Adagio’s re-activation, Aria had spent most of the time bored.

As much as she wanted to follow in her sister’s hoofsteps and wander into Ponyville, seeing the state that Adagio had returned in gave her second thoughts about the whole thing.

Well, she reconsidered travelling alone, anyway.

Besides, somepony needed to stick around and keep an eye on Sonata, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the two cuddle-butts stuffed into Sunset’s bed.

Thus, two days after Adagio’s return, Aria was inwardly overjoyed at the thought of heading into Ponyville with Sunset and Sonata. Outwardly, she was all dour looks and intimidating glares. Sonata did all the excited bouncing for her.

They’d parked their cart—with its crane contraption removed—somewhere a little way into town. The streets were crowded, with an increasing number of tents lining the edges. From there, they’d worked their way through the crowds. Along the way, ponies moved out of Aria and Sonata’s way without giving them a proper glance, like they were rudders and the bodies were water.

While she was doubtful that a cloak, tunic and goggles could hide her appearance, she figured they must be working on some level. Her dark, mysterious, tall figure was enough to intimidate ponies into flowing out of her way.

Too bad the cloak was super-duper itchy. It was something about it being a repurposed tarp, and she wasn’t a fan of the drab, brown-green tunic either. Eugh.

Sunset quietly led their little group while occasionally looking over her shoulder. Whenever she did, Aria looked over to Sonata, who she only sometimes had to drag back to her side before she disappeared into the sea of colourful manes.

Aria started speaking with a cluck of her tongue. “So, how long is all this gonna take?”

Sunset shrugged. “Hopefully not long, but it depends on if the places I want to go are adequately stocked up. Ponyville is a little inconsistent about that.” She paused for a second, reaching to her side to pull out a small sack that jingled as she weighed it. Even from behind, Aria saw Sunset grimace. “Maybe add on an extra hour or two so I can get the extra bits.”

“Where are we going first?” Sonata asked. “You need food, right? Candies and veggies and stuff.”

Sunset resumed walking and nodded. “Yup, though I got a few other places I want to stop off at too.” She turned to look back at them. “Remember, be quiet when we’re in stores, and don’t touch anything.”

Sonata smiled and saluted. “Okie-dokie.”

Sunset’s gaze lingered on Aria until she relented and nodded back. “Got it.”

Their first stop wasn’t one of the stores lining the main street or the around the central plaza. Sunset had beelined through Ponyville to one of its taller structures; a large, rectangular building with a water tower beside it. While it looked worn, with chipped paint and a dirty slate roof, it looked like one of the newer structures in town. Right next to it was a squat, wide building with what Aria recognised was a clock sticking out above it. That was the second time she saw one, and it looked about as confusing as the small pocket watch Sunset kept in one of her pockets.

One of the large doors to the larger structure was open, with a cart just sitting inside and being unloaded. Mostly, it was vegetables and fruits, though one worker’s crate jingled as they walked by. Aria glanced at the box and saw bottles inside, each corked and bearing a label with text she couldn’t read and a stylised apple.

A unicorn with a white coat placed another crate on top of a growing stack in one corner, and as he turned around to grab another box, he spotted the trio and grinned. “Oho, Sunny, good to see you. I see you finally got some friends with you.”

He was tall and broad-shouldered, and to Aria’s surprise, he even had a few inches on her and Sonata. She said nothing and tried to keep her face as neutral as possible, though her goggles kept her wide eyes hidden.

“Hi. You kept the delivery I asked for, Hondo?” Sunset asked.

His smile wavered, but he nodded before gesturing with a hoof further inside. “I do, I do. Resin, rubber, machine parts. Everything I could reasonably knock off some orders for ya.”

Sunset nodded and followed where he pointed. The pair continued inside, and Aria guided Sonata along before her eyes wandered too far, and she missed her cue to follow.

The inside of the warehouse—Aria presumed that’s what it was—was full of crates, big and small. Ponies with little push carts moved the boxes back and forth, and she even saw a pair of them hammering nails into a much bigger crate.

They arrived at a smaller stack of little crates covered with a brown tarp. Hondo pulled it back, and Sunset dug her nose into one of the crates.

Aria peered over Sunset’s shoulder. Inside were bottles, cylindrical metal tubs, and many smaller boxes and some lengths of metal. It was hard to see what was in the other crates, but she made similar labels on some more tubs through the cracks in the boards.

“Fantastic,” she said, then turned to him with a smile. “I can bring the cart around in a little while. What’s it cost this time?”

“Same as usual,” he said. “Though I might shave a little off in exchange for an explanation as to what you’re doin’ with all this. It keeps disappearin’ and you keep coming back for more.”

Sunset shook her head. “Oh, you know how it is. Between fixing things up and working on my own projects, I end up using a lot of it.”

Hondo squinted down at Sunset, who simply returned his judging gaze with a smile.

He sighed and put a hoof to the bridge of his snout. “Alright, maybe not this time.” He pulled the tarp back over the crates. “Get here by three at the latest. I assume you got the bits?”

At that, Sunset’s ears flattened out. “Er, not right this minute. But I will by this afternoon! You know I will.”

Hondo chuckled and shook his head. “Sure, sure. You always do. Buuut…” He started walking, using his size to guide Sunset and the others back out the way they came. “I did hear that my daughter is having problems with her new little radio-thingy.”

As Aria listened, she grabbed an errant Sonata’s leg and pulled her away from a stack of smaller crates she was about to prod.

“Seriously? I just fixed that the other week. What is she even doing with the stupid thing?”

“If it was me, might have been something to do with a buckball game,” Hondo said, smirking.

Sunset rolled her eyes. “Alright. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll be back in time, promise.”

Sunset started to leave, but Hondo put a hoof on her shoulder. “Y’ain’t gonna introduce me to your friends at least? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you hang around with anypony else.”

Sunset let her mouth hang open as she shook her head, then shrugged his hoof off. “I’m sorry, I haven’t really got the time. Maybe later.” She nodded once more to Hondo, then made her way outside. Aria followed closely, and Sonata hop-waved at Hondo as she was dragged out with them. He returned it with a lopsided smile, then disappeared back into the warehouse.

Once they were back on the street, Aria sidled up beside Sunset. “What’s the deal between you two?”

Sunset glanced up at Aria for a moment. “There’s no deal or anything. He gets lots of orders through, and sometimes there’s surplus materials and supplies. He sets some aside, and I pick ’em up at cost. Not much to it.” 

“Sure, but he was pretty curious about you. Y’sure there’s not more going on between you?”

Sunset thumped Aria’s side when she snickered. “No! It’s not like that. He’s old enough to be my dad, ew.”

The next stop through town was back along the main plaza. The central, round building at one edge kept half the plaza in the shade, and Sunset seemed reluctant to step out into the sunlight, and when she was forced into it, she squinted and covered her face with a hoof where she could.

Sunset barely spoke more than four words to each of the stall keepers, starting with, “That one,” or, “Those please,” then muttering, “Thank you,” when the merchants hoofed over a box, crate, or sack. They were piled onto Aria’s back, and though she could take the weight of so many potatoes and tinned foodstuffs, she was starting to feel it by the time they’d made their way to the other side of the plaza.

“Do you guys really have to eat this much…?” Aria asked, hissing the words out through gritted teeth.

“Not all at once, no,” Sunset said as she took a netted sack of apples from a stallion. “But the more I get now, the less I need later. Means I can stay at the tow—at home for longer.”

“Sure, but…” Aria grunted and shifted the weight, and a pair of the tied-together sacks slid forward, swinging the contents into Aria’s periphery. “It still seems like a lot, and isn’t this biting into your budget? You could also lose a few pounds from my back and your flanks.”

A smirk crossed Aria’s face when Sonata giggled at her side while a frown passed over Sunset’s.

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

“Noo,” Sonata said, her voice a pleasant whine. “Just a little… plush. I like it!”

With a huff, Sunset continued on, guiding the giggling pair out of the plaza. “Shut up. And anyway, I’ve budgeted for this. Whatever bits I get when I fix that radio should be enough to cover everything else we need today.”





Aria could describe Ponyville as quaint, cosy, and above all, dirty. Aside from the main road, most of its streets were narrow and meandering, and each and every building looked like a bunch of blocks of house parts stacked on top of one another.

There was always a bottom floor piece, a top floor piece, and a thatched roof. All of them were the same shades of white, brown, and yellow. Only the doors and the plants in window boxes were genuinely different in colour and shape.

The building they found themselves standing in front of was entirely the opposite. It was round, like that one building in the plaza, and Aria figured the word ‘bespoke’ fit it best. While it was still reasonably dirty, much of the mud and dust had been washed away to reveal the playful pastels beneath. Blue and lavender made up its walls and roofing, standing tall above the rest of the houses around it. It vaguely reminded Aria of the city on the mountain; she couldn’t see much detail, but she knew it was covered in tall, glittering spires.

All in all, this building stood out like a rose in a field of weeds.

“Is this, like, a noble’s house or something?” Aria asked.

Sunset shook her head. “No, though I have no idea where she gets her bits from. I think it’s mostly the paint doing all the work here.”

Sonata piped up. “I think it looks a little too pretty. It’s super colourful, but it makes it look like a toy.”

“Wouldn’t that make it something you’d like?” Aria asked with a smirk.

Furrowing her brow, Sonata tapped a hoof to her chin. “I’m not sure yet. If I do, not ones like this. Too girly.”

“That—Nevermind.”

“That’s enough,” Sunset said. “Again, same as before. No talking.”

“Can’t we talk to at least one other pony that isn’t you?” Sonata asked with a whine. “All we’ve done today is watch you talk and talk and buy and talk. I’m sure we’ll be fine!”

“Eh… I’m not so sure you will be okay,” Aria said, emphasising her words by jabbing a hoof in Sonata’s direction. “But she has a point. No one has really batted an eye at us all day so far. Pretty sure we’re not gonna get figured out if we just talk.”

With a grimace, Sunset shook her head. “No. I’m staying firm on that. Keep your mouths shut, and that’s final.”

Reluctantly, both Aria and Sunset nodded to Sunset. Sunset’s then demeanour immediately changed, turning into all smiles, before she stepped into the shop.

The inside was about as garish as the outside. The walls were pasted with bright wallpaper, bolts of cloth stuck out from cubby holes, and entire ensembles from dresses to suits sat on fabric-covered pony statues.

The moment Aria’s eyes fell on one of the ponyquins, she froze mid-step. The lack of eyes and mouth made something tingle at the back of her neck and conjured up a flash of a memory of Adagio’s blank, eyeless stare.

The melodic call of Sunset’s name grabbed Aria’s attention away, and she turned to the source.

The pony she laid eyes on looked like she would sparkle if dragged outside. Between her bright white coat and her styled, glossy mane, she stood out as much as the building did. Though she was at least tempered a little by the glasses over her nose and the colourful if dull-hued shirt she wore. It actually brought the fact most of the displayed clothing was less bright than the walls they were housed in.

“Rarity, hey.”

With little warning, Rarity shoved her face to Sunset’s and kissed her on the cheek. Sunset blushed and stepped back, then cleared her throat and lowered her voice. “Hey, Rarity. Your dad mentioned something about your radio being busted. Again.”

“Oh yes, yes.” Rarity pushed her glasses up her nose and blushed. “Just another, ah… workplace accident, you see. You know how it is here sometimes.”

Sunset nodded along, looking a little bored. “Where is it? Maybe the parts have just popped loose, but I might have some spare parts on me to make more serious repairs.”

“Thank you, thank you. The thing is just… Oh!”

Aria’s eyes met Rarity’s, and an impromptu staring contest began between them. Aria decided to go for intimidation, setting her jaw and leaning forward a few inches. In return, Rarity’s wide-eyed gaze and raised eyebrows had nothing but curiosity and wonder behind them.

“Who are your friends?” Rarity asked. “You two are gorgeous to look at or are getting there at least. Those… scraps you have on aren’t very flattering, I have to say.”

“Sonata!” Sonata declared, and every other mare turned to face her. Rarity was smiling, clearly joyed to meet Sonata, while Sunset’s face turned to a scowl, leaving deep lines around her snout. Aria wished she wouldn’t frown so much.

“Oh, good to meet you, Sonata!” Rarity took one of Sonata’s legs in her own, apparently glossing over the lack of fur or keratin. “Welcome to my boutique. You two must be new to Ponyville. Otherwise, I’d have heard about two stunningly pretty and tall ladies such as yourselves.”

“They’re, uh, assistants,” Sunset said, putting herself between Rarity and Sonata. “They’re from Canterlot, but I think we can agree that walking around in Canterlot chic is overdoing it when we’re just gonna get our hooves dirty all the time.”

“Nice save,” Aria mumbled, and Sunset fired a quick glare over her shoulder.

“Oh, employees! Wonderful, though I’m still not sure you two should be trotting around like ponies of the cloth. I know Ponyville is a little, how should I say, rural? But that doesn’t mean one has to dress in anything less than the best.” She hummed. “I’ve got some ideas… Something with a little more layers, some good belts—those ropes look like they were at the bottom of a river—and maybe some actual oilskin…”

“Rarity,” said Sunset flatly.

“Oh! Right. Right. The radio is in the kitchen. Let me show you.”

Rarity took off, and Sunset followed, though not before gesturing to the other two to stay. They gave her the same nod-salute combo and watched the mares disappear further into the boutique.

“I think I like her,” said Sonata. “She recognises art when she sees it.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” Aria snickered and then looked around the boutique’s walls. The space seemed reminiscent of Sunset’s lab, with mechanical parts and magical doohickies replaced with bolts of cloth and piles of thread. A table covered with several pin cushions sat to one side, and on top was a rounded-edge box that had pinched two pieces of cloth between them. A closer inspection revealed that what she thought was a pincer was actually a needle, and thread was coming from it.

Curiosity got the better of her, and she reached out to touch the cloth. It was unbelievably soft, and it made the robes she wore seem like sandpaper in comparison. It was like the revelation summoned every single itch Aria had managed to ignore since the morning, and she shuddered and rubbed at the back of her neck.

“Hey, Aria!”

When Aria turned to face Sonata, her goggles were around her neck, and her hood was down. In its place, she had a wide-brimmed hat on her head. It didn’t look like it was actually functional, as it drooped low on one side and had way too many feathers pinned in a band around the centre. What kind of bird had bright blue feathers?

“What do you think? Does it work on me?”

Aria held out a hoof and gently shook it. “Eh, clashes with your mane, I think. Skin too.” She glanced around the room and then spotted a pile of hats. The variety of hats ran the gamut between seemingly functional to hilariously silly, but near the bottom was another hat like Sonata’s. Only this one was a shade of purple with pink feathers.

On closer inspection, she could see the feathers were most likely dyed. Bits of grey and iridescent blue shimmered near the bases of the feathers’ hairs.

It was good enough.

Tossing it over to Sonata, Aria said, “Try this one instead.”

Sonata caught the hat, and it spun on her hoof for a moment. She swapped the hats over in a flash and set the old one back on the ponyquin she presumably took it from.

“Better?”

With a hum, Aria squinted and then nodded. “Yeah, that colour works much better on you. Not the robes, though. Ugh.”

“You’re right. Maybe we can find a dress or a jacket and convince Sunset to get it.” Her eyes lit up. “Oh! And we would need to get you and Adagio something too. Maybe get her a whole dress as a, ‘sorry you got waterlogged and lost a few bits’, gift!”

“What, no dress for me?” Aria put a hoof to her chest. “I should be offended you’d think I’m above frilly styles!”

Sonata giggled, trotted over to Aria, and then threw a hoof over her shoulders. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in this stuff! You actually look comfortable dressed up like that. Broody Aria and her broody outfit for brooding in.”

Aria thumped Sonata in the chest and got a giggle in return.

“You’re not wrong,” said Rarity, and the two spun around to face her. Sonata fiddled with her hood for a moment, trying to yank it back over her head, but the hat kept it down.

Rarity giggled, walked up to Sonata, and then took the hat from her head. “I’m glad you like it, but I’d rather you asked before trying it on. It definitely does suit you, though.” She then tilted her head and leaned in to examine her closer.

Aria cleared her throat, and Rarity looked over at her. “I, uh… Is there a hat or something I can try on? No idea what would suit me, honestly. Like she said, this is kinda my vibe.” With a hoof, she gestured to herself from head to fetlock.

Humming and mumbling to herself, Rarity looked Aria up and down. Her horn lit up and pulled Sonata’s hood down, letting her straight, purple mane spill free, fall down her shoulders, and end partway down her legs.

“Oh!” She blinked and pulled some of the hair up with a hoof. “First thing’s first, I think we need to start off with your mane. As you might have noticed, the straight look isn’t exactly in.”

As Aria remained still, Rarity fussed over her, gently pulling at her mane. After some tugging and vague attempts at styling, she settled on holding up Aria’s mane in two tails just behind her ears.

“Yes… This works. And I think I’ve got just the idea for the two of you.”

Aria looked at a grinning Sonata and offered her a half-shrug before facing Rarity again. “We, uh, don’t exactly have anything to pay you with. Apparently, that’s kinda important.”

Rarity giggled. “Oh, you! Though I suppose you Canterlot types are pretty used to being treated well by everypony around you. No, no…” Walking over to one side of the room, Rarity rifled through a stack of papers on a small metal spike before producing a specific slip she passed to Aria.

Aria recognised the scribbles as writing, but she couldn’t read a lick of it. Some of the characters seemed recognisable, but beyond that, it may as well be the random squiggles of a child.

“What is this?” Aria asked.

“A shopping list for me, but think of it as an I.O.U. Sunset is smart, and I’m sure the three of you have your ways of getting what’s there for me. It’s not quite worth the materials and labour I’ll be expending on you today, but just getting to apply a little Rarity glamour to two works of art more than covers the remainder of the cost.”

“Okay.” Aria quickly glanced between the paper and Rarity. “What’s on the list?”

With a blink, Rarity tilted her head. “It’s a list of dyes and pigments I need. I’ve sourced what I can locally, but, well…” She gestured to herself and to her desaturated clothing. She pulled at a little bow made of the same material as her blouse, and the colour was almost entirely absent. It wasn’t that it was dirty or the cloth had lost its colour—it was just dulled. “Some of what I have needs a touch-up if you catch my meaning.”

Aria folded the paper and nodded to Rarity, though not before giving Sonata a quick wink. “We’ll get to it,” she said. “Now, what were those ideas you were cooking up?”

Rarity beamed from ear to ear, and Aria swore she saw her eyes sparkling. “How do you feel about parades?”





Sunset's glare was absolutely worth the pain of getting her mane styled and her body measured in so many different ways she hadn't even considered. Though having Rarity beneath her was undoubtedly fun for the few seconds it lasted for.

Aria felt a little badass in her getup, she had to admit. She wore a jacket that wasn't too dissimilar to the lab coat Sunset wore, though hers was much less grubby and grimy, lacking the grease and rips that came with extensive use. It had similar buttons fastening it together but also came with a ribbed section just behind her legs while the rest flowed over and behind her, leaving a slit for her tail to poke out. All of it was coloured shades of turquoise and white, except for the boots and leg-gloves. Those were brown and black, respectively, and the latter were as glossy as Sunset's own pair.

Sonata wore something very similar, though coloured a deep, dark purple and lacked the ribbing. Instead, the coat overlapped more over Sonata's chest, with fatter lapels and loops around the buttons. Both their outfits being called 'parade dress' didn't make much sense to Aria since neither of them had a skirt. Sonata almost did, but like many of the other suggestions, additions, and notes Sonata had, the skirt was nixed in favour of functionality. Not to mention the unspoken inconspicuousness they both required, though that had been blown when Rarity took their measurements.

She hoped the excuse of them being from out of the country might hold up. It was technically accurate, at least. That said, the muttered comment about identical foreign siblings had Aria figuratively tugging at her collar, and she hoped that Rarity wouldn't blab too much about the two of them. She wasn't sure Rarity was the type to blab.

Meanwhile, the walk back from Ponyville was much more pleasant during the day. Sunset had urged them to take a different route, and a longer one at that, that wound through part of the mountain near the town. Aria grumbled, but after a while, she didn't think it was terrible. As hard as pulling the cart along could be on some of the inclines, Aria didn't get tired or sweat. Those, she knew on some level, were the most awful parts of physical exertion. She also supposed it was a good enough day for it, though that same lack of sweat also meant she wasn't getting the benefit of the breeze as much as Sunset probably was. Still, it was pleasant overall.

That wasn't holding up much with the holes Sunset was burning into the side of Aria's head. As much as Aria had tried to ignore Sunset, it was growing more difficult. She could draw on only so much bravado and smugness before she had to say something to disarm the dorkter.

"Stop acting so jealous," Aria said with a smirk.

Sunset's pout grew more exaggerated. "I'm not jealous. I'm annoyed you decided to go against my orders."

"I can't help it if she overheard us and got nosy, Sunny."

"Stop calling me that. I'm serious. And that's not even the part I'm most annoyed over!"

Aria chuckled and waggled a hoof momentarily, making her trot a little lopsided. The cart had been hooked back up to her, and between the special loops and hooks in her jacket, pulling it along was much more comfortable, even with all the garbage and goods they'd piled onto the back.

Sonata sitting on the back humming away to herself was barely a problem, too.

"Sorry, not sorry." Aria lifted her head. "Can't help it you look so friggen cute when you pout like that. 'Dagi made an excellent choice to tease you than spook you. And don't worry, I got the… what was it that Rarity called it? That shopping list thing." She pulled said list out of one of her coat's many pockets. "You're smart. You can figure out how to get all this."

Sunset shoved the paper back at Aria, and she put it back in her pocket. "I don't do dye. My work is tangential to artificery, not alchemy. Unless you and pebble-brain—"

"Hey!" Sonata shouted.

"—have a knack for chemical substances that I don't, you've made my life a lot more difficult."

"Fine," Aria said. "We can always just avoid her next time, right? Ponyville isn't that small."

Sunset snorted. "Small enough there is exactly one mare that can obtain and cut the kind of gems I need—which I've had to forgo because of this!"

Aria winced. "Er, yeah. I guess that's kind of on us."

"Yes. It is." Sunset grumbled for a moment. "I'll figure it out, but you are absolutely helping me with it, you understand? I put you together, so I can always take you apart."

"No, you can't," Aria said, and she sped up a little to make her point before immediately slowing back down. "But you are the only one who can put us back together, so… Same difference, I guess."

Sunset huffed and shook her head. "I cannot believe you two. I should be thrilled that I made something so intelligent that it wants to work against me…"

Don't smile, Aria. Don't bucking smile.

They continued walking in silence for a little longer, letting Aria enjoy the sounds of nature again. She'd learned from Sunset that timberwolves weren't exclusively nocturnal creatures and that they sometimes wandered around the forests during the day, but she'd yet to spot one so far. Instead, she saw more peaceful creatures, and she was content to feel smug that she could see them and Sunset could not.

Deer, squirrels, rabbits and more wandered through the woods, climbed trees and walked through the underbrush away from the paths and roads. She'd spotted the same doe a few times out there, recognisable by the scratch on her cheek and the wide-eyed glance their way. She probably couldn't see the three of them, but she certainly heard them.

Aria considered taking a walk later that day to spend some time in the forest alone.

Eventually, Sunset broke the natural quiet. "How did you know each other's names when you woke up, anyway?"

Aria tilted her head to Sunset. She thought about the question for a moment and tried to remember as far back as she could. She felt as though there was more to it, but her memories only went as far as the day she woke up on that hard, unmoving table, sensing her sisters beside her and looking at the giddy and terrified Sunset backed against her machine. All she had beyond that was intuition.

"I… I'm not sure, honestly," Aria finally answered. "'Dagi is 'Dagi to me, same for Sonata, and probably true for both of them with me and each other. I guess I just recognised her on some level."

"That doesn't make any sense, though," Sunset replied. "The way this works, you shouldn't have any intuitive understanding of anything except basic concepts to help you move and understand orders. I was fully prepared to spend a day or two trying to teach you language, but you came into this world knowing far more than I could have hoped."

"I've been getting the idea that a lot of what we do doesn't make any sense to you. Even outside the way you reacted when we were cuddling to your constant glaring, I'd wager we're not at all what you wanted."

Sunset sighed. "No, you're not. But you're what I've got. I am still very curious as to why you three turned out the way you did, of course, but that's going to take time to figure out. You aren't giving me much information on the matter."

"If I knew more, I'd probably tell you." There was a pause before Aria lowered her head and smirked at Sunset again. "Well, maybe after getting you between my legs again—"

"Shut up! Oh my gosh, you are insufferable."

"Tell me you don't like it, then," Aria said, practically purring the words.

Sunset kept her eyes forward and continued walking along, leaving the three of them to the sounds of hoofsteps and the wind passing between the leaves.

"That's what I thought."
> 5 - Sonata
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sonata… Dazzle.”
“Nada.”
Trotting through the underbrush further down the valley from the tower, Sonata thought long and hard about what she would say next. “Sonata… Bright.”
Aria chuckled from elsewhere in the forest. She was far enough away Sonata didn’t have an intuitive sense of exactly where she was, and the way her voice bounced off the trees and valley walls made it hard to pinpoint a direction.
She was somewhere east of Sonata, though. She was sure of that.
“Definitely not.”
“Is that another dumb joke?” She leaned down and stuck her nose into a bush, sniffling through the earthy roots.
There was silence, then a long, unconvincing, “No…”
Sonata came back up with soil and leafy debris stuck to the tip of her snout. “Because Sunset said I’m not dumb! I’m just empty.”
Aria’s chortle carried through the forest much clearer that time. She was definitely to Sonata’s left by about a ten-second gallop.
“Spacey,” Aria said. “She said you were spacey. And for the record—“Sonata stumbled back when Aria came out before her and not to her left. “Getting mixed up like that way makes you a little dumb.”
Sonata pouted and lowered her head, and the saddlebag slung over her shoulders slumped with her. “But you love me, right? That’s the important thing!”
With a sigh, Aria rolled her eyes. “I guess I do. Can’t be leaving you out here on your own. ‘Sides…” She leaned in, pressing her snout to Sonata’s. “I’m definitely stronger, so if you get stuck or weighed down, I’ve gotta save your flank.”
The thump delivered to Aria’s chest shoved her backwards, making grooves in the dirt and roots where she slid. She just laughed, and Sonata grinned at her before continuing on through the woods.
Sonata kind of understood why Sunset and Adagio had sent them both out. She understood what ‘independence’ was, and she and her sisters had shown it in spades as far as she was concerned. She even helped make Adagio’s new leg and helped Sunset with the new-new one, at least until Sunset had shooed her out.
It was also a nice day, even if it was a bit chilly. At least Sonata assumed it was chilly from the lingering frost in the shadows. She enjoyed wiping it away when they passed by bigger patches, leaving long, streaky arcs on their canvas. Any especially large patches were blessed with a rendition of the sisters and Sunset etched into it with a few simple lines and circles.
As the pair walked, Sonata reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a hoofful of pages. This was the big thing Sunset wanted her to do, and it was to be responsible. They contained details on various plants and rocks and some other little squiggles and shapes Sonata didn’t quite understand, except for the little stars and big circles beside and around a few illustrations. The rest were written words, but neither Sonata nor her sisters could comprehend them. It took Adagio a painful minute just to read one word. ‘The.’
Sunset did understand it, and before they set off, she had tried to explain what was said on the pages, but most of it went over Sonata’s head.
Sonata figured it probably went over her sisters’ heads too. There were a lot of long, fancy-sounding words in there for flowers and flower bits.
Fortunately, Sunset had been sweet enough to circle out the things they were looking for and then shooed Aria and Sonata out extra fast when they tore the pages from the book they were in.
“That one looks pretty, doesn’t it?” Sonata asked, holding up one of the pages of flowers to Aria. The one circled on it was a flower with broad, purple petals and narrow middle. “I think that it’d look good on you.”
“Eh, not sure it’d fit the rest of my ‘fit,” Aria said. Her saddlebags were a little larger, but she had more loops to strap her bags to that better balanced out the weight. Sonata was okay with that since it meant she didn’t have to pull the cart as much. She hoped.
“Maybe if we make your clothes more flowy or something. I think it’d be a good choice. All Sunset wants to do is squish them down a bunch.”
She’d seen the tub and buckets Sunset had built and gathered outside of the tower. The awning she built over them was actually kind of cute, but that was the best she could say about it. Sonata suspected they would be working there frequently, and the idea of spending time under a makeshift tent didn’t seem like a lot of fun. Especially since she’d be turning lots of flowers into coloured goo.
Maybe she could find a flower for Sunset that she wouldn’t render down.
They followed a curving path marked out by only a few rocks piled on top of each other. It wasn’t an obvious track and was only periodically marked by the piles, but after just an hour or so of walking, Sonata noticed most of the low-lying plants weren’t quite as wild there. Any streams they crossed usually had stones in the water to step on, if they were deep enough, or the occasional plank of wood.
While Sonata did as she was told and stuck to the path, Aria wandered off into the forest occasionally, looking for some of the other things they needed. In her case, it was usually mushrooms.
“What about Sonata Sunburst?” Sonata asked.
“Dweeby sounding.” Aria shook her head. She looked off to the side, her eyes locked onto something that Sonata couldn’t quite spot.
“More fun friends?” Sonata asked.
Aria’s ears had directed themselves to where she was looking, though one twitched to Sonata when she spoke.
“Not quite,” Aria answered. “Keep going ahead. I’m gonna go check something out.”
Sonata saluted and smiled, and she got a quick smirk back before Aria vanished into the woods through a pair of bushes.
Slowing down, Sonata took up the slack her sister had left her with by lifting her head and turning it slowly from side to side. She wasn’t sure what all the tricks Aria had to spot things were, but Sonata knew just looking left to right and back again would help her spot something if it snuck up on her.
If she had looked down, she would have spotted the sudden drop.
Sonata toppled hoof over flank, initially head-first, but she began to tumble sideways after a few collisions with the ground. Something in her was too startled to even scream, and she held her eyes wide as she fell, watching the twisting, twirling greens and browns in front of her in some vain attempt to keep herself oriented.
After a few moments, she skidded to a halt, her snout sinking into the mud at the bottom of a small stream. She watched the water flow around and over her nose for a few moments, then gingerly pulled herself to her hooves and looked down at herself.
Her clothes had taken a few scrapes, leaving scuff marks and dirt tracks on the surface, but were otherwise undamaged. It still brought a frown to Sonata’s face, though, as any amount of damage and staining to something so new and pretty was awful.
She brushed some of the leaves and twigs that stubbornly stuck to her off, then looked back up from where she’d come from.
She was at least walking in the right direction. She could see wooden posts on one side and ropes attached to hooks hanging from both the posts and a pair of trees she’d walked past. Following them down, she found a lot of wood planks scattered around her, with some frayed and rotting rope ends.
She was at the bottom of a shallow but steep ditch, and the rock and dirt walls looked impossible to climb.
Still, it wasn’t the end of the world. She could just follow the stream in either direction, or…
“Aria!” she called out, looking up where she’d come from.
A few moments passed, and Sonata called out again. “Aria!”
It took a full minute to pass before Aria poked her head over the ditch with a frown deep enough that it creased the skin of her face.
“…Really?”
Sonata had the sense to look away from Aria before she smiled up at her.
Aria leaned over a little more and tentatively put a hoof over the edge of the ditch. “Great,” she muttered. “I’m gonna need to find a rope or a way around or something. You stay right there.”
“What about the stream?” Sonata asked. “I could follow it. It must go somewhere, right?”
Aria blinked. “Ugh, maybe? I saw something...” She then shook her head. “Nope. No. You stay perfectly still until I get back.”
“But—“
“No buts!” Aria stared Sonata down until she sat on her backside. “Good. I’ll be quick.”
With a huff, Sonata slouched, then nodded. “Okay.”
With a returning nod, Aria disappeared from the edge of the ditch, and Sonata could only track the sound of her footsteps for a few seconds.
She gave it a few seconds more before standing up and trudging upstream.
The ditch’s shape softened and muted much of the forest’s sounds, and all she could adequately make out were her own hoofsteps and the water bubbling over the rock and dirt. The route meandered uphill, and after a while, Sonata’s sense of direction was hopelessly defeated, meaning all she had to guide herself was the stream’s direction of flow.
Eventually, she encountered a small cliff with a shimmering curtain of water flowing over the rocks above her. She carefully put her hooves onto them and hauled herself up, climbing sideways like she was ascending a narrow, wet staircase. There was an awkward moment she realised she couldn’t go forward anymore and had to find her way up by backing herself up, but after some wobbling, she managed to reach the top, where her hooves splashed into a fetlock deep pond.
Sonata stared across the pond, standing as still as the world around her. She didn’t pay much mind to the ruddy green frogs lurking just beneath the surface, their heads poking out, or the single duck relaxing by the water’s edge. Her gaze instead crossed over the pond, to the stream feeding into it and beyond to the rocky tower that barely broke above the treeline.
That wasn’t Sunset’s tower. There weren’t any metal doohickies sticking out of it.
All thoughts of being lost left Sonata’s mind, and she crossed the pond, disturbing its inhabitants with a briefly muttered apology. The lounging duck flapped off while the frogs merely glared at her passing.
The tower’s base was hard to make out at first, but eventually, Sonata made sense of it through the moss and dirt covering the lower third of the structure. It looked like it was made the same way as Sunset’s tower, using rocks of the same size and colour. Sonata couldn’t see a door on her approach, though as she walked around the tower’s edge, she was greeted with a long, straight wall that abruptly ended in a pile of stones. A grey, desiccated tree lay in the hole in the wall, and beyond that was more wall and another mossy-based tower.
Curiosity bit at Sonata’s brain, and she almost danced on the spot as anxiety also tried pulling her back to the stream. She thought she could outsmart Aria if she found a way back, but now that she was so far away, it would make sense to just go back the way she came. Aria would be mad if she was already back where she fell, but at least she’d know where she was.
However, the lure of the unknown was too strong for Sonata’s anxiety to win, and she clambered onto the log and over the wall.
Once inside, the sun struggled to penetrate far. The walls to either side continued on, but when Sonata crouched, she could easily make out the bends in the corridor and the doors to the towers. The one to her right was shut, but the one to the left was broken and had been left open.
Aside from her echoing hooffalls, there was no other sound within those walls. She clenched her jaw as she realised she couldn’t even hear herself breathe, then relaxed when the second realisation that she didn’t need to followed hot on its heels.
When Sonata poked her head through the doorway, she struggled to not imagine the tower being the same as Sunset’s. The rotten, fractured furniture was different, but the size and shape of the round room was the same, including where the stairs were located relative to the door and the angle they spiralled upward.
There could be another attic of goodies. And more importantly to creatures other than Sonata, probably a way to see where she was and try to navigate back home, or at least back to Aria.
The second floor was more of the same, with more stairs leading up higher, though this level was lined with racks holding rusted weapons. Spears, mostly, but she could see a sword turning to powder sitting to one side.
Sonata otherwise ignored them, and instead of climbing the stairs, she took one of the doors on either side, giving it a mighty shunt when it only budged a few inches.
It swung open and slammed against the rock, sending dust and goodness knows what else falling from the ceiling, and the sunlight beaming briefly blinded Sonata. She winced and put a hoof over her eyes to shield them as she stepped out onto the parapet, trees to her right and an honest-to-goodness castle to her left.
Her eyes clicked as she rapidly blinked, then stared at the structure. It was much taller than the wall and only a little taller than the towers. It was also in considerably worse condition, but it was recognisable for what it was. It consisted of three faded white spires, each crumbling and lacking what must have been mighty spikes, as well as walls to join the nearer two. The wider, taller one in the middle of the structure probably rose another few storeys above the tree line, and there were hints of more structure that Sonata simply couldn’t see from where she stood.
Hanging off one of the spires was a tattered rag whose colour had been eaten away by the years, but she could make out the lilac or fuchsia dye through its browns and blacks. It fluttered in the breeze that broke through the walls, and one tattered end flicked toward what looked to be an opening.
“Sonata, Treasure Hunter,” she muttered to herself, waiting momentarily for Aria’s teasing.
She grinned and clambered over the parapet before dropping to the ground inside the outer walls with a heavy thud, her hooves leaving deep holes in the dirt.
It was nice to actually pass through a door, as worn down as it and the stairs leading up to it were. The wood was dark and felt spongy to the touch. It strained against Sonata’s efforts as she forced it open, but it wasn’t until she noticed that she’d bent and snapped the wood inward that she realised it was supposed to be pulled, not pushed.
“Oops.”
The next two doors that Sonata walked through were thankfully open, though the second led to a curtain that hadn’t been quite as severely beaten by the elements. It felt nice to touch as she brushed it out of the way, and then she stopped in a vast, tall room. At the far end, some light trickled in through a pair of stain glassed windows, casting shades of pink and purple across the floor, while just below were a pair of grand, well-carved stone chairs. Some of the filigree was still there, gold and silver inlaid into grooves, but most of it had long since been removed.
What Sonata focused her eyes on was fed by the beam of light that struck through the ceiling, giving the rest of the room a golden glow. The stone beneath her hooves was covered in dirt and soil, but where the beam landed, the earth was the thickest and provided a bed for a small field of vibrant, purple flowers with broad petals and a narrow middle.
Sonata rushed over to the flowers, then pulled out the page she had taken and compared the sketch to the plant. They looked precisely the same.
Bouncing on her hooves, Sonata struggled to put the page back into her bag, while at the same time, she lurched forward and began picking some of the flowers with her teeth. She held the stems in bunches and pulled, sometimes snapping the stem and sometimes uprooting the entire plant, before shoving them into her pack. In just a few minutes, she had cleared half the narrow field, and her bag was overflowing with petals and roots.
Once Sonata couldn’t even balance another of the plants in the back without more tipping out, she stopped to fasten it shut. It took some straining and awkward twisting, but she managed to close the buckle.
“There you go!” Sonata declared with a cheerful note. “All strapped in for the walk home. It’s going to be a little while.”
She glanced back to the rest of the bed, tilting her head. She considered stuffing the other bag with the remainder but glanced at the colourful banner she’d shoved aside. Not only was it brightly hued despite the dim light, but it was also pleasantly patterned with repeated checkers. The edges were frayed, and it drooped in places, but metres and metres of the middle were spared the wrath of moths and time.
“And you,” Sonata started, “Can go in the other side. I’m sure Sunset or Rarity will like you.”
Using her teeth again, Sonata gripped one edge of the sheet and pulled. It tore free of a few of the rings that held it to a railing just a little too high to make out, but only a small length of it fell. So, she gave it another pull, then another, each time getting a few more tears.
The fifth pull, however, made an ugly groaning sound. The cloth fell around and on top of Sonata, briefly shutting out the world around her, and then she felt something hard slam the middle of her back, pushing her flat to the floor. Meanwhile, another clang in front of her sent a buzzing sensation through her body.
After waiting a few seconds, ensuring everything was silent again, Sonata tried to lift the banner off herself. She freed her head and peeled the fabric off her front, but her back legs wouldn’t cooperate and let her walk out of the bundle.
Looking back, she could see why, and the image made her wince.
The rusted pole that held up the banner had landed end first on top of Sonata. While it hadn’t pierced her clothes or rubber skin, it had left a severe indentation where its weight pressed down into her, and her back was bent at an angle that she was pretty sure would be bad for anypony. She gingerly let herself back down with her front legs, lying on the floor. Something creaked and groaned inside of her, though she didn’t get the function of her legs back once she was down again.
The anxiety returned, but Sonata scolded it and banished it to the back of her mind once more. She was awake and could still see and move half her legs. That meant she could perhaps work on a solution.
But first…
“Aria!”
Her voice rang out through the room, and after waiting for a few seconds and receiving no call back, she shouted a second time.
There. At the very least, she tried to call for help. If Aria was coming, she could at least try and figure out what was wrong with her in the meantime.
Sonata unclipped the pack around her middle, which had survived unscratched in the accident. She pushed it away, then rolled onto her side by using her front legs. The rod must have been heavier than she expected, as it stayed in place rather than moving with her.
With a smile, Sonata pushed herself onto her back. Her back half didn’t quite follow, however, and twisted around as it lagged behind, and the pole remained on top of her.
On her back, Sonata had nothing she could push against to roll herself further. What she could do, if she heaved herself up just enough, was get her fetlocks around the pole and shove it the last foot or so off her.
It slammed against the ground with another clang, and Sonata fell back, letting her head rest against the large, dark stones.
“Sonata Dumbass,” she muttered to herself, then giggled. “I’m sure Aria will find this funny.”
By throwing her legs around above her, Sonata managed to once more roll onto her front, but again her back half remained slightly twisted, refusing to follow her. Using all her strength, she lifted her front half up enough that she half-walked, half-dragged her butt across the floor. She teetered and wobbled as the dead weight didn’t follow her as expected, and she was constantly adjusting her position to account for the odd centre of gravity.
As Sonata reached the door, slowly inching her way forward, she began thinking about how she would try and make her way out and home.
She didn’t know if and where there was an entrance to the outer walls. She could have tried her hoof at climbing the walls if she had her back legs to work with, but the prospect was out of the question at that moment. Not only that, but it would take her hours to make a trip that previously took her minutes.
Slumping to the ground, Sonata put her hoofs to her head and thought, long and hard, about what else she could try, where else she could go.
Sparing a look at the stone chairs, she thought she could at least think to herself somewhere more comfortable and less pitiable.
So she crawled back and struggled up the dais. She got her hooves to the back of one of the thrones and dragged herself up it, twisting her body so that her non-functioning legs bunched up beneath her and caught on the lip of the seat. Half-turned as she was, she dragged herself further up to sit on the throne, though some of the stone that made up one of the arms seemed to crack and slip beneath her.
She managed, eventually, to sit down with her back to the throne. It was long and large, much too large even for her to sit in normally, let alone the awkward, uncomfortable position she found herself in.
With a whine, Sonata threw her front legs over one side of the throne and slouched off the arm. She shut her eyes tight. “Stupid, stupid. Aria said wait and I had to be stupid.”
When Sonata opened her eyes again, she noticed the break in the stone arm was relatively clean. It was smooth, even, and perfectly perpendicular.
She leaned forward, pulling herself along to do so, and inspected the hollow space beneath where the stone was. The inside wasn’t remarkable, except for a perfectly circular stone.
When Sonata touched it, it pressed down. So, she pushed it harder. It sank with the pressure, then clicked into place once it was flush with the rest of the hollow.
Right as it did, the chair rumbled, shaking Sonata with it. The sound of grinding rock came from somewhere behind her, but Sonata wasn’t able to pull herself from the seat before it tilted back with a crack, and she was tumbling down for what was most definitely too many times that day.
The seat hit something hard and pitched forward, ejecting Sonata from it and sending her careening down a jagged incline. When she landed at the bottom, she had only a half-second to see the chair fall toward her, then land hard somewhere south of her chin.
With a shriek, Sonata shut her eyes and held up her hooves to shield herself far too late. That was how she remained for a short time, her chest rising and falling in the memory of breath before she carefully cracked one eye open.
The sun didn’t penetrate to where Sonata was, but enough light bounced off the walls that her eyes could manage. She could still feel herself, at least. She could feel her face, and the ground under her, and her rapid fake breathing sounds.
As she tilted her head forward, she shrieked again.
The top half of the throne had landed on her midsection, and she made out the rough, light texture of the silicone inside her where it had sheared through her skin. She twisted, pulling herself along, and found that her back half didn’t follow. It poked out from either side of the chair, and she saw one of her legs kicked out to the side, totally limp.
Shutting her eyes tight, Sonata rolled over and pulled herself away, scrambling across the smooth, slick floor as quick as she could. Despite having her eyes shut tight, all she could see were her rear legs severed from her, sticking out into the air.
Before she began admonishing herself again, Sonata collided with something with a muted thump and a scraping sound across the floor. A few small items fell onto her head, two bouncing off, then one sticking fast into her skin.
Sonata instinctively rubbed her head and pulled free the last thing to fall.
Despite the rust that coated it, she recognised the scalpel for what it was. Sunset had several for her work, and she’d watched Sunset cut away at Adagio’s hip to smooth out the rubber. Glancing over to the other things that fell to the floor, she saw more instruments that looked similar to Sunset’s own, though their proportions and exact shapes were markedly different, either more bulbous or broader.
Looking up, she realised she was underneath a wooden table, reinforced with iron bars stretching across its middle.
She smacked the table again, and something else nearly tipped over the edge. A ceramic bowl with a sun and moon motif is painted on the outside. Above that was a strange tangle of metal, some still shining, but much of it rusted. She made sense of at least a little of it, especially the dangling cables.
Shuffling over, Sonata put her torso beneath the table’s edge and swung at its legs again. She missed a few times before adjusting herself enough for the bowl to fall. With a quick swipe, she hugged the bowl to her chest, though its contents fell out and scattered across the floor.
With gems of varying colours and cuts surrounding her, Sonata thanked her lucky stars.



Sonata’s legs didn’t feel quite the same. It was like she was talking to them, and they took a few seconds to give her some lip before obeying her.
But they did obey her, so she could walk, albeit at a slower pace.
It had taken her over an hour, but Sonata had managed to fix herself up as best she could, clipping her spine together with a bend of metal she found and socketing one of the gems into the brace. The big, mostly intact banner was good enough to keep both halves together, tied tightly around her chest and under her tail.
It wasn’t comfortable, but it worked.
She stood at the front entrance of the keep, just beyond the outer walls. It was just her luck that there was an actual front gate, which had long fallen off its hinges, proving only a mild obstacle she had to climb over.
Aria was ahead of her, walking along a worn-down road that disappeared beneath the undergrowth. She wore her usual scowl, and this time there wasn’t a hint of familial love behind it.
“I told you to stay put,” she said, her voice flat.
Sonata pursed her lips and nodded. “I know.” She sounded whiny and shook her head to avoid worrying about what that meant.
Aria glared at Sonata for a moment more, and her expression softened. The scowl remained, but her eyes didn’t look quite so cross. “At least you’re safe, I guess.” She looked up and over Sonata. “What is this place?”
“I think it used to be Sunset’s, maybe?” Sonata said, following Aria’s gaze. “There was a whole thingy in there like the room we woke up in. I had a bit of an accident and was able to fix myself up and—“
“Whoa, hang on. You had an accident?”
Sonata nodded, then shyly pointed to her back with a leg. As Aria walked up, she looked over at her sister. If she had the biological means to do so, Sonata was sure she’d have turned green.
“‘Nata, this isn’t a small accident...”
“I’m all fixed up now!” Sonata said, perhaps a bit too loud and quick. “I think. I should let Sunset look at it, though.”
“Yes,” Aria said. “You should. Let’s get back.” She sighed as she yanked Sonata’s front legs, and Sonata almost tripped over her back set. “We—I can finish searching tomorrow. Maybe I can actually make some progress while I’m not having to babysit you.”
Sonata beamed, shook her leg out of Aria’s grip, and unhooked one of the straps covering her pack.
With a sigh, Aria turned around and stared at the overflowing bag. Some of the flowers had most certainly been squished, and the strap at the back had torn before Sonata had tied it back together.
The wide-eyed look on Aria’s face bounced between the bag and Sonata’s bright grin. “I guess you’re not totally useless,” she said at last. “I thought we’d be out ’til dusk before we actually got anywhere.”
It was Sonata’s turn to widen her eyes and gasp. “Dusk! Dusk!”
Aria narrowed her eyes.
“Sonata Dusk!” Sonata shouted. “That’s my name.”
> 6 - Sunset
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunset’s shack didn’t have a lot of natural light for most of the day. Like much of the rest of the tower, it was quite dark, except for the light generated by the tiny crystals she’d stuck in various corners. They were dimmer than actual lamps, but she found they saved her time and money, not needing fuel and maintenance. All she needed to do was shunt a little of her magic into them, and they’d burn bright enough to read by for a few days more.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate the red-toned sunlight that streamed in later in the day, coming through the window facing west. Before the sisters’ arrival, Sunset often overslept, making that evening light oh so precious. Sometimes she’d even stare out and watch her namesake disappear between the mountains and trees until the sun vanished, leaving her in the dim blue light of her crystals and the moon.

That’s not where she was staring at that moment, however. She instead had her snout in a notebook, scribbling down possible ideas and tweaks related to her work—and the sisters—before she lifted her head at movement in the treeline. Adagio was busy elsewhere, taking care of little tasks that left Sunset alone, though Sunset planned on checking in on her soon.

That north-facing window let her see ponies approach without having to stick her head out the door, and the darkness of her shack meant she could remain hidden by doing so. Not to say that she regularly had visitors, but she was always mindful of it regardless.

However, Stealth wasn’t precisely on Sunset’s mind when she saw Aria and Sonata step out of the treeline. Her eyes locked onto the rough line across Sonata’s middle, and she secondarily paid attention to her stumbling as she waved at the shack.

The second Sunset was out the door, Aria put a leg out to stop Sonata. “She’s fine,” Aria said, then tilted her head. “Mostly.”

That didn’t dissuade Sunset, and she was at once at Sonata’s side, running a hoof across the seam and over her back half, making the synthetic mare shudder. The fabric around her front and back looked like it could be used to lift her. When she tugged it and Sonata separated a little, Sunset shuddered.

“You were supposed to watch her and keep her safe,” Sunset snapped, glaring at Aria. “How’d this even happen? You didn’t leave the forest, did you? Go up the mountain or something?”

Sonata shook her head and put a hoof on Sunset’s chest. She didn’t push, but the touch was firm like it was meant to reassure. It was a little futile. “No, we stayed in the forest! But there was this big ditch and a broken bridge, and then there was this old castle thingy—“

“Look, we separated for couple minutes, and then she waltzed off when I tried to get her out of the ditch—“

“—where I found a bunch of flowers and—“

“—It looked kinda like your—“

“—a chair fell on me—“

Using her magic, Sunset pinched both mares’ lips. Aria took the hint, but the motor behind Sonata’s mouth continued, albeit muffled. “I’ve decided I don’t care how it happened.” She released Aria’s mouth but kept Sonata’s shut. “You’re still walking, so it’s not severe, but let’s get you inside.”

Sonata’s motor wound down, and she nodded to Sunset.

The magic dissipated, and Sunset pointed back to her tower with a hoof. Aria took the lead, and Sonata followed, with Sunset lagging behind just enough to examine Sonata as she walked.

Sunset noticed the cut rubbing away at itself and little chunks of rubber falling off. It had the roughness of dry silicone pulled apart, but the friction was removing more of Sonata with each step. Her left side looked worse than the right, aggravated by the weird bend in her back that made it look like she was always trying to make a left turn as she walked.

And sometimes, she did before she corrected herself. It lead to her bumping into the door to the shack and then the entrance to the tower proper. She tore a few pages from her notebook when they passed through the shack.

“Is there something up with your back legs?” Sunset asked.

Sonata nodded. “Yeah! They take ages to listen to me now, so they keep doing things a while after I want them to.”

Adagio wasn’t there, though she had finished the little tasks and chores Sunset had asked her to do. Despite her being a broody so-and-so, she was at least acting nice enough to do as she was asked. The lab actually looked clean for once in a long while. There was still a little dust in some corners, but at least there weren’t any trip hazards or broken glass to worry about.

“Get onto a table,” Sunset said, scribbling down on her notepaper. “And take that… sash-thing off.”

Sonata paused momentarily, her front hooves on the leftmost table—the one she’d first awoken on—before slowly untying the sash. She held onto each end with her teeth, then muttered something Sunset didn’t quite catch.

It appeared that Aria got the gist, and she was behind Sonata, shoving her backside with her head. With the effort of the three of them, they got Sonata onto the table, and then the sash—lilac and blue and covered with stars in places—was draped over one of the other tables.

During all that, Sonata’s back half sagged, and her legs seemed even less cooperative once she was on the table. At the very least, she could properly relax them and the rest of her body, exposing how much damage she had taken.

Some of Sonata’s skeleton, her brushed metal framework, was exposed. The ribbing that gave her torso shape poked out in places, likely contributing to some of the rub-away, as well as the long length of her spinal segments. A lot of them were bent in ways they shouldn’t have been; some even had sharp angles where they should have been straight, and foremost above all, there was an extra piece of metal roughly wrapped around two segments, pinching a pink-red gem the same shade as Sonata’s eyes.

That was definitely not there before.

“Where did you find that?” Sunset asked, pointing at but not touching the brace thing.

“Oh! I made it!”

Sunset and Aria both looked at Sonata. To Sunset’s further surprise, Aria even had her mouth open, her jaw a little slack.

“You… made it?” Sunset asked. “You didn’t find it and stick it on and just hoped it would work?”

“Well…” Sonata tapped her chin. “I kinda did, but I picked the metal and bent it, and I picked the crystal. It matches my eyes!”

After a few moments to consider those facts, rolling them through her mind, Sunset scribbled a few notes down and then set the paper aside. ‘Jury-rigged repair, self-made, question.” Aria bent over the notes, but by her squinting and subsequent grunt, she hadn’t learned to read in the past few hours.

Leaning in closer, Sunset tried peering past the brace and gem, then huffed.

“Aria,” she said. “Get me my tools.”

“Am I gonna be your gopher again,” Aria muttered, but she still went over to the desk at the far end. There were a lot of tools there, more than could be easily carried in one’s legs, but she knew what Sunset meant. She grabbed a small pack, and before she brought it all the way over and set it on the table, Sunset had drawn out a small cylindrical object and floated it across the room.

She held it to her eye, and it magnified whatever Sunset looked at. With a little more tweaking with her magic, it turned the world a shade of blue, with faint white lines outlining Sonata and her metal bones.

There it was, clear as day. A pinched sheer line is hidden by the brace.

Of course, that raised more questions than it answered.

“A chair fell on you and did this?” It was hard to think anything other than a ton of stone could have done that kind of damage outside of specialized tools used carelessly.

“Yup. A big, stone chair.”

Sunset blinked. “Right. So you found the metal and the gem, snapped them around your broken back, and then you limped your way here from wherever in Tartarus you just came from?”

“Yup!”

Sonata’s smile and tone made it seem like she was just asked what colour the sky was or like she told Sunset, her favourite flavour of taco.

“Where even were you guys? I sent you out to collect plants, and you—“She placed a hoof over her face. “Nevermind. I’ll ask later. Aria, get some rope and tie her down with it. I don’t want her squirming when I start working on repairs.”

“You could just ask her,” Aria said, and Sunset felt the blush enter her cheeks. A snicker later, Aria made her way upstairs to the storeroom level.

“This is going to take forever to fix,” Sunset muttered. “At least Adagio had the sense to give me a whole replacement to work with.” With a sigh, Sunset sat on the floor. “Sorry, that’s unfair. Are you okay? Other than the obvious.”

Sonata, ears planed back, nodded. “I’m okay. A little shaken up, I guess.” With a hoof over her face, she giggled. “Not every day you see yourself cut in two!”

Sunset chuckled. “Count yourself lucky you can do that. If that were almost anypony else, you wouldn’t be able to be so chipper.”

“Oh, I know.” Sonata twisted herself a little, looking behind her for a moment. She shivered, then turned to face Sunset again. “Do I really need to be tied down? You didn’t tie Adagio down.”

“Adagio can actually sit still for longer than five minutes at a time,” Sunset said. “Plus, most of her repairs required remaking the leg and attaching it. You’re going to be more involved.”

Announced by her hoofsteps, Aria returned with Adagio in tow. The latter’s new leg stood out, a slightly different shade from the rest of her body, being a smidge lighter, but Sunset was sure the colors would blend more as she continued to be exposed to the sun and elements. She also had a mild limp, though Sunset consigned that to her getting used to it, most likely.

Adagio’s glare settled on Sunset for a second, then softened when she looked over to Sonata.

“How long?” Sonata asked. Before She could squirm, Aria was looping the rope around the table and cinching it tight enough to make dents in Sonata’s flesh.

“I’m not sure.” Sunset reached out to Sonata, stopping her from tying another loop tighter than the first.

Once Adagio reached the bottom of the stairs, she took a lap around Sonata. “I feel like I almost got off lightly.”

“Eh…” Sunset waggled a hoof. “You got her beat. Your core was waterlogged and had a chance of not coming back.”

A grimace crossed Adagio’s face, which she then wiped off with a shake of her head. “Yeah, no, I’m good. What were you even doing, Sonata?”

Sonata’s mouth opened, but Aria answered as she tied off the second length of rope. “Lost. Stone fell. Broke in two. Fixed herself.”

That answer brought Adagio to a stop, and she stared down at Sonata. For a second, it seemed to Sunset that Adagio was about to scold the girl. Instead, she stepped forward and brought Sonata’s head against her chest. She rested hers on top and kept one foreleg wrapped around Sonata.

“What can we do to help?” The question that floated from Adagio’s mouth took Sunset by surprise.

Unfortunately, all Sunset could do was shrug. “All you can do is wait.” Adagio’s frown deepened, and Sunset continued. “If I was sure you could do delicate work bending her back into the right shape, I’d let you do that, but I need to be sure that her ad hoc fix won’t cause any more problems. I can’t be sure it won’t pop off.”

Adagio stared at Sunset for a few more moments, but Sunset maintained her gaze until the golem gave in. She sighed and began undressing Sonata’s front half, removing the tatters that were her jacket. The bag that was somehow still intact fell to the floor with a heavy thud, which Aria scooped up.

“We’ll be downstairs,” Adagio said. Her eyes settled on the bundle of fabric that once held Sonata together. “Aria, grab that for me? I got an idea.”

Aria nodded without a word, grabbing the fabric, and then the two disappeared down the main stairway.

Down to just the two of them, Sunset set to work in the waning sunlight, silently inspecting every bend and joint in Sonata’s back and scribbling further details into her notes. ‘Bent, micro-fractures, straighten/fill?’

The brace was shoddy, having far too much give when Sunset gave it a little nudge. There was no way it should have worked, both to hold Sonata together and to let her legs work after the break, but the gasp that escaped Sonata’s lips when Sunset touched the thing confirmed it was part of the girl’s circuit. She could only imagine it felt like an exposed nerve; how weird and unnatural it must feel to have it open to the air and poked at by someone perhaps a bit over-curious.

“Hey, Sunset?”

Sunset lifted her head and looked into the one eye Sonata had managed to lock onto her. She was craning her neck, moving it around just a little too far to look natural, and while for a second Sunset worried that might stress the flesh around her neck, she packed the thought away.

Pausing her work, Sunset let her silence and inactivity give permission for Sonata to speak.

Sonata’s eyes looked away, forward, and down at her front legs. “I’m sorry I messed myself up. I promise I’ll take better care of myself.”

Tilting her head, Sunset moved up. She forgot just how big she’d made the girls, and even lying down, Sonata’s eyes were higher than Sunset’s.

“I never thought you’d think I was disappointed,” Sunset said softly.

“Aren’t you?”

“Eh.” Sunset waved a hoof in the air in a so-so gesture, and Sonata’s ears flattened again. “I kind of am, but at myself. I have no idea if I under or overestimated my abilities when putting you three together. But you three are proving to be….”

Sunset rolled her tongue in her mouth and looked up toward the broken apparatus that helped give the sisters life. Still burnt out, but little by little, Sunset was replacing damaged parts. Adagio had lent a helping hoof here and there and astonishingly was proving adequate at understanding what went where.

“Remarkable. If anything, I’m a little proud of you.”

Sonata rubbed her hooves over one another, but her eyes flicked up, and her ears sprung back to their natural, perky position.

“You are?” Sonata asked.

“Yep. Maybe you shouldn’t have wandered off on your own just yet, but you showed you were resourceful.”

Metal teeth polished white bit at a silicone lip. “So I’m not a mess-up?”

To that, Sunset threw her head back and laughed. Sonata’s ears immediately flattened out a third time. “No, yeah, you’re still a bit of a mess-up, and I will be holding you to your promise. But I’m not mad or disappointed in you. Besides, I’m a mare of science and magic. My whole schtick is based on testing and revision. Fail, revise, try again.”

Sunset leaned in close to Sonata’s face. “I do hope you learned a lot today.”

Sonata nodded quickly. “I have! I have.”

Chuckling again, Sunset straightened up and nodded back. “Good. Now, there’s not much else I can do for you right now. I need some rest, and I need to head back to Ponyville tomorrow for more supplies. You need to not move for most of the next day or so, understood?”

Sonata nodded again.

Grinning, Sunset turned about and started toward the stairs.

Once she was halfway across the room, Sonata spoke again, her voice so low the artificial buzz almost made up its entire sound. “Sunset?”

Stopping, Sunset looked over her shoulder.

“Can you sleep up here tonight? I think I need something to cuddle.”

Sunset’s eyes widened a little, and she turned to look straight ahead, hiding her blush from the mare on the table. “Oh. Um. Sure.” She turned from the stairs, pulled out a box beside the machine, and produced a grease-stained blanket. “Wouldn’t be the first time I slept in this room,” she added, muttering.

Sonata’s laugh was quiet but cheerful. “Thank you.”

The tables weren’t bolted down, instead sitting on a set of tracks, allowing Sunset to shunt one against Sonata’s, then climb on top. They were hard and cold and would prove probably the worst place Sunset could ever choose to lay down.

So she thanked the universe that she had probably the best pillow and body warmer to snuggle up against when the moon’s light made the lab glow.





It took Sunset a full hour to convince Sonata to let her go in the morning. It turned out that at some stage during the night, with nothing to distract her, she’d pulled Sunset into something of a death grip and refused to let go. It took promising the mare more attention the moment Sunset was back home to finally be released, though she could still feel Sonata’s grasp on her muscles and joints. She rolled her neck as she headed to the stairs, producing a few loud pops.

Adagio and Aria weren’t present in Sunset’s living space, which was to be expected. Neither was in her bed, where one or all of them might join her, not that they needed to sleep. That probably meant Adagio was brooding somewhere at the tower’s top while Aria wandered around the surrounding woodland. 

While they weren’t present, their handiwork was.

The indigo sash had been cut into chunks that hung beside the two small windows, with a smaller strip tied around their middles, letting in the morning sunlight. It strongly contrasted with the rest of the brown, grey interior, and it also seemed whatever remnants that weren’t too dirty or moth-eaten had been nailed into the ceiling above her bed, turned into an incomplete but still messily pretty drape.

“Where’d they get the nails from?” Sunset asked herself. She didn’t spend long pondering the matter, though she did briefly check the makeshift curtains weren’t likely to fall any time soon.

Before Sunset opened the front, she grabbed an apple and crunched into the juicy flesh.

Aria wasn’t hard to find, though Sunset had a feeling that Aria had made it intentionally easy. It had been the same since she’d picked up her wandering habit; all Sunset had to do was step outside and up to the tree line, and there Aria was, poking her head out from behind a bush or a trunk.

“We’re headed into town,” Sunset said after swallowing another bite. “I got to get a few more things. Don’t bother with the cart.”

“Last trip wasn’t enough?” Aria’s tone seemed annoyed, but she didn’t hesitate to fall in line beside Sunset. “And sure they’re okay to leave on their own?”

“I’m sure.” Sunset bit into the apple again, finishing it off, then tossed the core into the woods. “And I had a few ideas I need to work on. You three might appreciate them.”

Shaking her head, Aria pulled her brow together and stuck out her tongue. “Do you have to talk with your mouth full?”

Sunset swallowed, then stuck out her tongue back at Aria.

Instead of a deepening crease in her forehead, Aria’s lips turned up. “Careful, I might take that as an invitation.”

Sunset’s tongue slipped back in with a sucking sound, accompanied by Aria’s chuckling.

“What ideas have you got in your pretty head, anyway? I doubt there’s much you can do to un-klutz’ Nata.”

Clearing her throat, Sunset lifted her head. “Maybe not, but I’ve at least identified some flaws I can correct. For one, despite your resilience, you three are too squishy.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Stamping her hoof into the dirt, Sunset halted. “Again, with the fat joke. I’m not fat!” She really didn’t think she was, especially since her meals were relatively lean, and she did so much walking, and her work had such a physical component to it…

She so wanted to smack Aria’s smirk off her face, especially as she rounded Sunset, first walking in front of her, then to her other side. “Hey, nothing wrong with a little pudge. I think I said before. It makes you extra snuggly.”

When she came up to Sunset’s other side, she threw a leg over her back and pulled her close. “Just the way I like ya. I’m sure Adagio thinks the same. She has good taste.”

Sunset fixed Aria with the toughest glare she could. “I. Am. Not. Fat.”

In the second after Aria rolled her eyes, Sunset was sure she’d let the moment slide. She hadn’t expected an apology, but walking away seemed like the most Aria thing to do.

Sunset didn’t expect the next half-step to come over her, and she’d find herself pinned to the ground beneath Aria’s weight.

She kicked her hooves around as much as she could and managed to grind grooves into the soil. “Get off me!”

A muck-eating grin took up most of the world immediately above Sunset, at least until those lips came near her ear again. “You know what you gotta say for me to get off.”

More thrashing and Sunset managed to get her front legs beneath her. She pushed down but was amazed at just how much a pony directing her weight on top of her could keep her stuck. All she managed to do was get her face out of the dirt.

She fell back into it when Aria’s teeth and tongue found her ear.

“Come on, printed.” Aria’s voice was lower, softer, as she spoke around Sunset’s ear.

Sunset whined. “No…”

Aria pulled her legs around Sunset’s front, locking her head between them, and squeezed. That pushed some of the air from Sunset’s lungs, though she could still breathe.

Another whine from Sunset netted her a nibble to the nick, and Aria pulled at the flesh and fur with metal teeth.

Flushed and hazy, Sunset beat her back legs into the ground. “F-fine! I’m fat and snuggly.”

All at once, Aria released Sunset but kept her weight on top of her. “Good girl,” she said with a chuckle. Before she rose, she pinched Sunset’s scruff in her mouth and lifted her up with her. She stepped over Sunset and continued along the trail, leaving Sunset behind to quiver a moment more.

Once Sunset had full command of her legs again, she followed on behind Aria.

“What do you need to pick up today, anyway?” asked Aria, throwing the question over her shoulder with a flick of her head.

“I need—“Sunset’s voice cracked, then she coughed out the sound and dropped her voice a little lower than her natural pitch. “I need to pick up some more silicone and see about getting something tough I can work with. I got an idea brewing.”

“So you said.”

Sunset nodded as they came out onto the trail in the woods. “I need to do some prototyping, and I haven’t drafted anything concrete. I, uh…” Sunset was thankful she was already blushing for once. “I was predisposed, let’s say.”

Snorting, Aria smirked at Sunset. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

In the last two days since they were in town, Ponyville had undergone a relatively rapid change, evident even from the farms that skirted the town’s edge. Multi-coloured streamers and banners had been lofted between buildings, and a particularly large banner acted as a rainbow gate for the two to enter through. The buildings along the main street had been meticulously washed; some were even freshly painted. What surprised Sunset most, once she’d taken care to notice, was that she could feel the cobbles beneath her. Looking down, they almost shined.

“Why is everything so…” She halted and blinked. “Oh. That’s this week.”

Aria took a moment to notice Sunset was no longer at her side, then stopped and turned to face her. It was sudden enough the bodies around Aria bumped and jostled her, but she simply adjusted her stance. “What is?”

“Some festival,” Sunset began. “I remember it being a huge deal back in Canterlot. Everypony comes out to celebrate; there are stalls on every street, all just to see a sunrise. I didn’t think ponies out here cared as much.” She started off again, continuing down the road. “Guess I was wrong.”

“I remember Adagio mentioning something about that.” Aria followed back in step with Sunset. “Is it a problem?”

“No… No problem. I just didn’t expect it to come around so soon.” Sunset laughed, throwing her head back. “Wow. It’s been a year since I set up in the tower. Nearly two since I left Canterlot.”

A year since she started trialing what would later become the sisters’ bodies. Two years since she’d found the perfect crystal for the sisters.

Aria said nothing to that and set her eyes forward, scanning the route ahead.

Eventually, they came down the street Ponyville’s freight station sat on, though Sunset again came to a halt as they approached.

Standing in front of the warehouse was a pair of ponies Sunset recognized, though at first, she couldn’t quite figure out where from. For a moment, she was sure they were some of Hondo’s employees, but they looked a little too well-dressed. The more she stared at them. However, the picture in her mind grew increasingly more precise.

They were currently without golden armour and bristled helmets, traded in for plain but well-pressed clothes. If Sunset hadn’t seen their faces before, she might not have noticed how much they actually stood out.

If they were in Ponyville, there had to be more of them. If there were more of them, that meant somepony important was around. No wonder the town was so alive, so clean and well-decorated. The residents were trying to impress somepony. Sunset didn’t care much for who that pony was, but it meant her current plans needed to be tossed out the window. She needed time to think that wasn’t spent in front of the guards.

With a tightness in her throat, Sunset wordlessly grabbed one of Aria’s forelegs and pulled her backwards.

At first, she pulled herself closer to Aria, but Aria understood what she intended and let Sunset lead her into an un-fenced backyard between two of the houses.

“What was—“Aria started before Sunset put a hoof to her mouth with a hissing shush. Aria clicked her mouth shut and then squinted down at Sunset.

“Long story. Change of plans. We’re heading back.” Each word was quiet and clipped. The second she finished talking, Sunset continued through the backyard, but before she stepped out onto the main street, she peered one way, then the other. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to spot more of the guards if they were also dressed in what they thought were plain clothes, but if they were here, some colleagues in polished parade dress may well be.

With her voice lowered to just its buzz, Aria spoke. “Was it the two at the warehouse?”

“Not now,” Sunset hissed. Her quick examination of the street revealed no armoured guards, and what faces she did recognize likely wouldn’t bat an eye at her presence. She stepped out and crossed kitty-corner to one of the other streets that flowed off into the quieter parts of Ponyville and as far away from the station as possible.

“You’re going to have to tell me more,” Aria continued. “Feels like something I ought to know if I’m gonna cover your ass.”

Sunset didn’t stop, though she did turn around and walk backwards for a few steps. “Sure. Absolutely. Just not here.”

Aria nodded, finally letting the subject be, and Sunset took the lead properly. Unfortunately for Sunset, the moment she turned back around to look where she was going, she was too late to swerve.

She smacked into another pony, and the pair of them were knocked to the ground in a flutter of paper. Several pages caught in the wind and drifted away down the street, while a fat and heavy book landed on Sunset’s stomach, ejecting the wind from her.

Wincing and gasping for air, Sunset flailed around and rolled onto her front, with one leg pinning the book against her and sliding it up her chest. While she was dazed momentarily, struggling to make sense of the words being shouted above her, it didn’t take her long to recognize the words weren’t exactly kind or friendly.

As she stood, the words, “Look where you’re going,” finally registered, and Sunset muttered an apology before shoving the book at the purple-coated mare that spoke them.

She let the mare bluster as she started off again, dusting off her clothes as she did. Around five steps later, though, Sunset finally processed more of who she collided with.

The purple eyes. The blue mane. The fine clothes that no one in Ponyville normally could wear casually.

Sunset looked back at the mare, who must have gone through some epiphany of her own, as she was looking back in roughly Sunset’s direction, her eyes almost wild.

But she wasn’t looking at Sunset.

Her eyes were settled on Aria, and before Sunset could discern what the mare was thinking, her jaw set, and her horn began to glow.
> 7 - Aria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first, Aria had no idea what grabbed her.
For a moment, she looked down while she was yanked backwards and thrown against a wall, but the grip around her middle and legs proved itself almost invisible, and only the hints of magic surrounded her entire body. She pulled against it, only getting an inch or two of give and nowhere near enough to find the leverage and push herself off.
The situation became more apparent when the mare Sunset bumped into stepped toward her, staring at her body. She hadn’t seen much unicorn magic, even from Sunset’s casual use, but Aria figured out what the raspberry-pink glow around the unicorn’s horn meant.

For all her outward cool and pride in her body—Sunset’s work, but hers to flaunt—Aria couldn’t help but feel self-conscious. She didn’t mind the looks she got when walking through the street; she could control how she presented herself, even fire off a glare to get them to look away, but not this mare. She was in control of Aria and refused even to acknowledge her eyes. To further that, the commotion drew a crowd to watch and stare, to lay their eyes on Aria in a way that she had no say.

Sunset stood just behind the mare, her wide eyes locked onto her. The moment stretched out, and Aria wondered if Sunset would do anything.

“Can you put her down, please?” She eventually asked. It wasn’t as commanding as Aria had hoped.

“This is fascinating work,” the mare said, turning Aria around and squeezing her front into the white-washed wall. “I’d heard there were others. I didn’t think you’d spend so much time on making more than one.”

The mare threw a grin over her shoulder while turning Aria around again. “You’re behind this model, right? I never thought I’d see something like this in my life. I’d only ever read about it…”

“Put her down,” Sunset repeated, her voice louder, more commanding. She even added a stamp for emphasis.

Aria sighed in relief. There was the commander-in-chub she knew.

“Last time I let one of your models go, it ran away. Oh, ah—“The mare rubbed the back of her neck “—Sorry about any water damage it took. That was genuinely not my fault. Though I’m guessing you have at least one more somewhere I don’t know about. Mind if I take this one? I want to see how a fully functioning model work and determine if my theories are correct. I’ll try and put it back together again. Oooh!” The mare bounced on her hooves, rapidly hopping from one to the other so fast her torso barely moved. “This is so exciting. I didn’t think I’d find something so fascinating here!”

Sunset’s eyebrows knitted tight as anger and confusion crossed her face. “How do you know I have others?”

The mare giggled and pointed to Aria, and she turned her head up, stretching her neck. Kicking down, Aria struggled to push back.

“You have a bit of a signature. Same general shape and that core is hot—”

Darn right, it was.

“—If I was paying attention, I bet I could have felt that power from down the street.”

“I’ll take those compliments,” said Aria through her teeth, “but I’d like to be let down now.”

The mare blinked at Aria, then tilted her head as she regarded her with violet eyes. “Is that dialogue pre-recorded? I’m impressed by how much effort you put into it! I can’t wait to see the logic facets and aetheric connections you’ve thrown together. This is fascinating.”

“She would like to be let down. She’s not your plaything.”

“What, and it’s yours?” The mare snickered at Sunset.

"It?" said Aria, indignant.

Sunset grunted, then gave the other unicorn a firm shove. While it wasn’t hard enough to knock her over, she did stumble, and her grip faltered. It was only for a second, and only by a little, but it was enough that Aria curled herself up, placed her rear hooves on the wall and pushed her torso up with her front legs like she was crouching sideways.

The mare didn’t notice, as her glare was directed at Sunset. “What was that for?” she shouted.

“She and I asked plenty of times.” Sunset lowered her gaze, with indignant fury in her eyes, and her horn lit with faint, sparkling blue. It was an expression and emotion Aria had yet to see. Sunset had been angry—Aria got the feeling that was her default emotion—but this was beyond her baseline.

It was kind of scary. And hot.

Aria grinned.

The unicorn blew a raspberry at Sunset and waved her off. “I’m just being curious! Let me take it to where I’m staying. I promise I’ll bring it back in one—“

The mare’s eyes met Aria’s, and she took her chance by launching herself forward.

The telekinetic grip around Aria’s waist and limbs had a combined tightness and looseness about it. She felt no pressure, but the pull was all too real. Not that it stopped Aria from using all her strength, putting dents into the wall, and travelling forward until she could barely punt the unicorn in the chest.

She was going for something harder and admittedly more permanent, but she supposed it was for the best that all she managed to do was knock the wind out of the mare and break her concentration.

Aria skidded across the cobblestones, then, with a deft kick, took control of her inertia and tipped up into a low crouch. Only disoriented for a moment, she made eye contact with Sunset, and then with a simple flick of her eyes, both ran down the street, away from the mare and away from the busiest parts of Ponyville.

At first, the crowd around them parted, like water sheered aside by glass, though just a few dozen metres down, it thickened again by those ignorant of the conflict behind Aria.

“Stop!” The voice was low and strained and came from behind them. Aria glanced over her shoulder to see the unicorn standing, a hoof held over her chest. Whatever pain she was in, she managed to power through, and her horn shot out something resembling a pink mist. It closed the gap between them.

“Sunset!” Aria yelled, turning forward. Sunset slowed herself enough to get behind Aria, and a single flicker of light burst from her horn and detonated the hard edges of the mist.

Sunset skidded to a halt, her hooves thock-thock-thocking over the cobbles while she remained surprisingly stable and upright. Before Aria could halt herself, Sunset shouted, “Get somewhere safe. I’ll be fine.”

Aria slowed and briefly tried half-trotting sideways, but she found her joint’s limits instead and wobbled sideways and forward at the same time. “We can both take her,” Aria said. “Just do that again and—“

“No! We’re not fighting her. Go.” Sunset shot out another explosion of faint blue light that battered apart more misty tendrils. For a second, Aria thought about being obstinate, continuing to refuse, but a glance at the stubborn lavender unicorn settled her course of action.

She’d trusted Sunset’s judgement before. She hoped she was right to do so again.

“Out of the way!” Aria barked, and more ponies parted in front of her, giving Aria plenty of space to gallop.

She knew she was headed in the rough direction of the forest, but other than the main street, none of Ponyville’s roads seemed straight. Up ahead, it seemed like the street Aria found herself on was about to come to a dead end, or maybe it forked off in several directions.

She didn’t find out and instead stumbled to a halt short of colliding with a pair of ponies clad in glistening golden armour that had just stepped out of a store and didn’t seem to take note of the crowd’s parting.

Aria stared at them for a half-second, and they at her, until the yellow-coated stallion peered over Aria’s shoulder. Following his gaze, Aria saw what she could only describe as a twisting blue-pink fire spiralling upward.

He then looked back at Aria. “Do you know what’s going on over there?”

“Uh…” Aria’s eyes flicked between him and glancing over her shoulder.

“…Are you involved in any way?” he asked, his expression turning a little more severe than confused.

Aria, deciding she didn’t want to get tangled with authorities when she technically wasn’t a citizen, turned and ran. Two sets of hooves followed after her, and while she found she was a little faster, it was only by that small amount.

Instead of running back into the fray with Sunset and the unicorn, Aria cut across the crowd into an alley between several houses. Well, perhaps it was more accurate to say she made herself an alley to dive between by making a her-shaped hole in several fences. There she kicked up dirt and trampled flowers and gained the ire of a pale pony with red hair. She didn’t hear exactly what she said, but the only other time she’d heard some words was under Sunset’s breath.

Still, it was enough to give her pursuers pause. The guard that hadn’t spoken did now, asking the pony she’d passed if she was okay, only to receive another line of expletives.

After meandering through more crowds, crossing another street, and galloping down another alley, all Aria had left was the first stallion on her hocks, trailing far enough behind that she lost sight of him when she turned on the third thoroughfare. He’d know which way she went, but it bought her just a few moments’ reprieve.

This street, she recognised. To her right, the road opened up to grassy fields and towered, finer-looking homes. The one decorated with swirling, violet poles and filigreed artistic renditions of ponies on its upper level was serendipitously familiar.

Aria slammed the door open and shut it behind her just as hard, earning a shriek from Rarity, who was standing in the next room alone, needles and threads in the air around her.

They all clattered to the floor when she screamed again, a combination of fury and fear crossing her features. “Aria, what—What is happening?”

“I need to hide here for a bit,” Aria said. “Five, ten minutes.”

While the anger lingered on Rarity’s face, her eyebrows remaining crossed together, her frown softened. “What’s happening?” she asked again. “Is it something I should be worried about?”

Aria gave the front door a nervous look, worrying that another pony would burst in any moment or there would be a knock that very second. While it had two diamond-shaped windows, they were both thankfully frosted, letting light in but not revealing any shapes or details beyond.

“Maybe?” Aria wondered how to explain herself. “Sunset and I ran into somepony and… Look, just five minutes. If anypony comes in asking about me, just tell them I’m not here, that you don’t know me or whatever, alright?”

Rarity stared Aria down for another few seconds, and Aria worried that she’d refuse. She’d given Aria her fashionable ‘fit and treated her like a regular pony, fawning over her beauty aside. She had no reason to harbour her.

Then she gestured her head to the main room. “Go, pull the curtains on one of the fitting rooms. If anypony comes in, I will ensure they don’t step a hoof within a yard of you. And stay as long as you need.”

With a sigh, Aria dipped her head in thanks. She wasted no time picking out the fitting room at the far end of the shop floor. As she pulled the curtains closed, she left just a small enough gap to peer through to the front door.

It was effortless to hide and wait. Not needing to breathe or needing to worry about the little twitches and spasms living ponies dealt with meant Aria could stand as still as the ponyquins that dotted the shop floor. The thought of adopting their same pose floated through Aria’s head, maybe finding a stool to balance on.

She didn’t let herself laugh when she realised how much of a Sonata thought that was.

She also watched Rarity collect up her needles and thread, and for a moment, she looked Aria’s way, holding a needle out with a grin and mouthing, “You owe me.”

“Yes, I do,” Aria muttered, then fell entirely silent.

Watching Rarity work was fascinating. The clothes on Aria’s back weren’t made wholesale but were fitted to her from other designs already present, and from what she could tell, Rarity was doing similar work to a dark blue dress in the middle of the shop. It was long and flowing and had small gems or crystals in the skirt that shimmered and shone when she pulled on the fabric, cinching it in or pulling it out.

Aria could probably stay there all day if it wasn’t for more pressing matters or the guilt of taking advantage of Rarity. It was nice to have that moment of relief, but she’d need to find Sunset or head home to her sisters to return in bigger numbers, even if it was just her and Adagio.

After waiting a while—probably longer than the five or ten minutes she’d promised—Aria reached forward to part the curtains but stopped when somepony knocked at the front door. Rarity calmly stuck pins and needles into the ponyquin’s head.

“That’s how you make yourself known,” she said, not quite to Aria, but it was intended for her. She shot a smile Aria’s way, then made her way over to the door.

If Aria could breathe, the air would have caught in her throat. Standing in the doorway was the unicorn from before; to either side of her were more ponies in golden armour. They weren’t the same pair she’d run from, but they must be colleagues all the same.

“Hello, Rarity.” The unicorn was all smiles, chipper and cheerful.

“Hello, Twilight! What a pleasure it is to see you. I’m still working on your dress at the moment.”

Twilight leaned over Rarity’s shoulder, and for a moment, Aria thought she was caught. If she genuinely could detect her...

Still, Aria endeavoured to remain as still as possible, hoping that maybe, just maybe, Twilight wasn’t looking through the tiny crack in the curtain.

“I see. It looks gorgeous, and—are those constellations on the side?”

Rarity giggled and nodded. “Yes, they are. I skimmed through the book you gave me and picked out some I thought would look best. I’m still pondering how to include something to represent a comet, but I’m sure I will figure it out.”

Twilight giggled back. “I’m sure you will, but don’t go too overboard with it.” Then, Twilight straightened herself and adopted a more severe and neutral expression. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m looking for something. You know those… ponies you mentioned to me the other day?”

Rarity took a step back, and one ear turned toward Aria. “Oh, uh, it was some days ago. What of them?”

“I’m looking for one of them. Tall, lilac, purple mane with streaks of blue. I didn’t get a look at her cutie mark. Have you seen her pass by or come in?”

Taking another step back, Rarity put a hoof to her chin. “Mmh, I can’t say I have, darling.”

Twilight’s ears drooped. “That’s a shame. We have her friend waiting for her, Sunrise or whatever her name was. Are you sure you haven’t seen her?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Rarity shook her head. “No, I’m sure I haven’t, Twilight. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of the three of them since before I told you about them. Has there been some trouble? Is she in danger?”

Twilight shook her head. “It’s… It’s nothing. If you haven’t seen them, then you haven’t seen them. Thank you for your time.” She then looked at the dress again. “Good luck with the dress. I’m looking forward to seeing it finished for the Festival. I’ll speak to you later.”

Twilight turned and left, taking the two ponies with her. Rarity stepped out and waved them off, calling out after them. “Take care, darling!”

Before she even shut the door, Aria stepped out from behind the curtains, her lips turned down.

So were Rarity’s. “I could have done with a little warning that I’d have the authorities at more doorstep.”

That took Aria aback, and she planed her ears out. The thought hadn’t occurred to her before, but the fact those ponies were dressed so garishly could have meant only a few things, and all of them would have involved authority in one way or another. “Sorry. I didn’t think that would be a problem.” She cleared her throat. “Now, what have you mentioned about us to Twilight?”

Rarity craned her head back and blinked. “You heard all of that?”

Aria nodded. “Every word.” Before Rarity shuffled back from Aria, she added. “I’m not mad. You couldn’t know there’d be trouble telling her anything. I just want to know what you told her.”

Rarity glanced to her side. “Not much,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “She’s new in Ponyville, but I’ve taken a shine to her, as have a few others. She’s a little awkward, a little too blunt, but she makes up for that with enthusiasm.” She cleared her throat. “None of which is about what I told her. Sorry, you just have that judgemental stare down to an art.”

Aria made an effort to relax her face. “Better?”

“Better. Anyway, I haven’t said much. I told her how beautiful you and Sonata are, how… fantastical and otherworldly you look.”

There was no blood to warm Aria’s cheeks, but she did rub one foreleg with the other, garnering a grin from Rarity.

“I’m not saying that to flatter you, as true a statement as it is. Beyond your looks, I mentioned the work I did for you two and talked a little about Sunset and her work around town. Other than that, I’m unsure what else I may have mentioned. I think she was a little curious where you all stay, but beyond telling her you live somewhere in the forest, I haven’t a clue.”

Aria groaned. “Great.”

“Prejudice is unbecoming!”

With another groan, Aria rolled her eyes. “I’m not—Okay, I said I’m not mad at you, but I’m a little mad. That’s gonna complicate things.” Aria began to pace around in front of the fitting room.

“Now that I’ve told my part, it’s time you tell me what is happening. Should I be worried now that I’m involved? Do you think Sunset is safe?”

Aria stopped pacing. “Crap.”

“Language!”

Aria glared at Rarity. “I’m not actually sure what is happening,” she admitted. “So far, only one of my sisters and I have actually interacted with her. Sunset, too, I guess. She’s just as fascinated by me as you are, but she seems to be…” She rolled the words around her tongue. “More invasive about it, I guess. Persistent little bi—“

Rarity glared at Aria, and Aria redirected the conversation.

“She mentioned she has Sunset somewhere. Do you have any idea where?”

Rarity thought about that for a moment. “Not entirely, no. You could try the town hall or the old library, I suppose. The former would be a good meeting point for anypony, and the latter is where Twilight spends most of her time. I believe she might actually live there.” Rarity shuddered. “I could not stand living somewhere so dusty.”

“It’s somewhere, I guess.”

Humming, Rarity collected her needles and pins once more. “I’m starting to wonder if I should even continue talking to any of you after this. Nothing has happened yet, but nopony comes barging into one’s place of work like you did without being scared of something. I really hope you aren’t going to cause me more problems.”

Aria shook her head. “No. Sorry. I had to figure something out and stumbled in, more or less.”

“No excuses, darling. I know how it is.” Rarity picked up her work again, once again reshaping fabric and stitching it into new positions. “I do have one more question, however; Are you really from Canterlot?”

Aria kept silent for a few moments. She could keep up the lie but owed Rarity a little truth. “I’m pretty sure Sunset is.”

“I see.” Rarity sighed and gestured to the door with a hoof. “Give it another few minutes, just to be safe. But I don’t want you back here until whatever it is that’s going on between you is resolved. I did this once to be kind, but I won’t have you taking advantage of my generosity by putting me between my friends. Understood?”

Aria nodded. “Understood.” Then she blinked. “Wait, friends?”

Rarity held out a hoof, waving it to and fro, frog up. “More or less. Sunset more, you less.” She then smiled at Aria once more. “I do like you, Aria, don’t get me wrong. Now, I recommend you head out and find Sunset. If Twilight was asking after her, she’s probably fine, by my guess.”






It was back to the cloak for Aria, though this one was generally prettier. It was one more act of kindness that Rarity explained away as making Aria more weatherproof, but Aria knew what Rarity meant by it.

Don’t get spotted. Hide your face.

Sadly, there wasn’t much Aria could do about her height, but it was what it was.

Keeping to the edges of the busier streets, Aria kept her eyes and ears open, trying to spot Sunset’s shock of hair among the crowd on the off chance the mare had escaped Twilight. That proved more challenging than expected, as the number of false positives that got Aria’s proverbial heart thumping was too high. She’d shoved the first pony around only to find it was a scrawny earth pony stallion rather than her creator.

Barging into the town hall seemed, to Aria, like a foolhardy plan. That would get everyponies’s attention, and being just her, she’d be overwhelmed. It made sense to Aria to try the library first.

The directions that Rarity had given Aria were clear enough. Most of the town flowed off the main street, like capillaries off an artery. Aria merely needed to count five streets to the right past the main town square, and she’d be there.

Along the way, she did at least stick her nose into a few other places she could think Sunset to be. The first was the street they were separated at. While it was still busy, the crowd had dispersed somewhat, and Aria dared not step out onto it when she spotted the volume of guards marching up and down. Not enough to be an army by any stretch, but enough for Aria to be concerned. Other than that, there wasn’t any evidence of Sunset or her little duel with Twilight. From the light show she saw, Aria was a little disappointed there were fewer broken windows or burning roofs.

But that was probably for the best.

Aria also briefly checked the freight station but saw nothing had changed, even at a distance. The same sentries that spooked Sunset were stationed there, heads held high and ears and eyes alert. Aria dared not get closer than the corner of the street, and turned tail to head toward her destination.

When Aria turned onto the street that housed the library, she realised she wasn’t really sure what she thought to expect. The first thing that stood out was how distinctive it was; the library was either made to look like a tree or had been carved out of one. Some of its branches, however, looked a little dead, with cables wrapped around them and then pointing off in various directions, connecting to the greater web of black silk tied to the surrounding houses and businesses. Like Sunset’s home, it also had a tall, metal spire jutting out from the tip, just poking above the branches that still had plenty of leaves.

Its trunk wasn’t as natural-seeming as the rest of it, though. Pieces of wood were missing or covered in purple crystal, almost like a base of it wrapped around the great tree’s shockingly wide trunk. Aria was sure she couldn’t use the barging-through-wood trick she had earlier.

She also counted a pair of guards outside, and no way to sneak up to the tree—library—without being spotted.

At the very least, their presence confirmed the library’s importance.

Aria waited at the corner, leaning against the wall on the far side to reduce her chances of being made by the guards. It allowed her to watch them, and she summoned her focus to fall still. Everypony walked around her like she was merely a part of the scenery, and after leaning her front hooves on the wall, her height allowed her an almost unmitigated view of the entrance.

While Aria stared, she also considered her options for getting in and finding Sunset, though she also realised she’d need to be sure Sunset was even there in the first place. She’d certainly need to get closer, to try and look through the windowed door—she couldn’t see any other windows at ground level—and if she was made, she didn’t feel like running would be as productive.

Still, as big and tough as she was, she didn’t fancy her chances against ponies who probably had more formal training on how to fight.

Aria waited long enough to be satisfied there were unlikely to be more guards nearby. She hadn’t seen any of them poking their heads out of alleys, and no patrols had passed her. With that information, she disappeared back around the corner and pondered.

Her eyes rose to the banners and cables crisscrossing the air above her like loose, chaotic stitching, and an idea came to her.

Perhaps…

Grinning to herself, Aria dipped into an adjacent street, then to one of the back paths between homes. There were no cables there, though at least one strip of multi-coloured bunting was hanging between two houses diagonally. Following it, she found exactly what she wanted.

A conveniently placed ladder, high enough that she could probably get a hoof onto the roof.

Climbing the ladder was easy enough, but getting a grip onto the roof was harder. There were no sharp angles or hard surfaces to get a hold of, just tightly bundled hay that slipped free with her weight. Aria had to grapple with the material long enough she’d thinned it out and exposed a small measure of wood beneath, but that allowed her to hook her hoof around the frame and hoist herself up.

Keeping herself low, she crawled up to the peak and peered at the library. Just her luck, she could see into it and made out a familiar mane and horn.

That left Aria just one more problem: How to get herself in and get her and Sunset out.

She considered trying the cables, but they didn’t look strong enough to hold her weight. The gap was too significant for her to jump, and the roof was too steep besides.

So, she considered the one really, really stupid option available to her.

Aria would try the front door.

Her journey off the roof was less than graceful, and while her slide down the thatching was smooth at first, she couldn’t stop herself from slipping off and landing flat on the dirt below. Fortunately, the landing wasn’t too rough, and she could stand and dust herself off, finding nothing more than some mud and grass stains on the cloak and clothing beneath.

Aria continued through the alley and stopped shy of the street beyond, with her snout and eyes peering up and down. She spotted the guards again, who seemed to pay her no mind, while she eyed up the passersby. She didn’t need a significant gap in traffic. Any would do, one just a pony or two long.

She didn’t need to wait more than a minute for it to come, and she bolted out and across the road.

The ponies she crossed in front of came to startled stops and stared at her in surprise as she tucked her head down and smashed into the side of one of the guards. She carried through, putting her strength and weight into the shove, but where she expected the second guard to fall, he proved to be a solid wall of muscle and metal.

The first guard collapsed onto the ground between them, wheezing, and Aria glanced between them and the second, then sheepishly grinned. She tried throwing a punch with a foreleg, but the guard batted it aside and placed a second hoof underneath her shoulder.

For a confusing moment, the entire world around Aria was flipped upside down, her colourful cloak billowing out. She collided with the floor and bounced, the cloak slipping off her, but she quickly climbed back to her hooves before the guard’s leg came down on her throat.

“Not sure that would have done much,” she said. “C’mon, don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

The guard launched himself forward, and something formed beside him. She twigged onto his horn, glowing a deep purple, matching the pointed object. “That’s meant to be my line.”

Yeah. No. Aria wasn’t being out-quipped by someone so deadpan.

Backpedalling, Aria kept her distance from the summoned blade. She tried to turn as she did, becoming mindful of the crowd bordering their arena, but she felt it out, bumping into hooves and listening for the jeers.

At first, it was hard to accurately discern the blade’s shape as it whizzed and whipped around before her, but the more she watched it, the more she made out. It was single-edged, and its translucent surface appeared cracked. She could also just about make out the guard wasn’t trying to catch her with the edge but the flat side of the blade.

That would cause some damage, but she’d deal with it.

She swung out a leg just in time to smash the blade and sent it whirling back. It hadn’t broken as she’d hoped, but that confirmed that the cracks were likely for looks. At the same time, the guard kicked himself forward, aiming a hoof at Aria’s face.

It didn’t connect, as she threw up her other leg and batted his punch to the side, then lifted him by the shoulder and tossed him over.

The stallion smashed into the ground on his back, and Aria’s weight came down on his head. As she stared down at him, her eyes widened in surprise. He was breathing, but he wasn’t getting back up.

“Can’t believe that worked.” Aria looked up and back to the library, ignoring the eyes locked onto her, then ran for the door before shouldering it open.

It wasn’t meant to open inward, so it popped off its hinges, snapping where it hung to the frame.

Once inside, Aria thought she’d been transported across the valley. While the walls were wooden and shelves lined with books, instruments sat on tables, and cables ran across the ceiling, all tied to machines that filled in gaps between the shelves. In the middle of the room was a squat box smothered with dials, switches, and buttons, and while Aria couldn’t read the labels, she knew they were similar to those on the machine that birthed her.

In an alcove above her, another guard had whirled around and hopped over the railing. Where Aria expected her to fall, she glided across the distance toward Aria, a hoof outstretched.

It connected with her cheek, twisting her head around and producing an odd squelching sound. At least Aria could track the pegasus as she landed behind her, pirouetting on her front legs as she did, then using her wings to propel herself forward in a gallop.

The moment before she swung again, Aria tried the trick she’d used before. Strangely, though, she didn’t see her front legs, and where she’d expected the weight and inertia of the attack to keep her upright, instead, Aria fell.

That’s when she realised she’d fallen forward, and she was looking over her ass.

Fortunately, that meant the pegasus’ aim was thrown off, and all Aria felt of her presence was a gust of wind overhead. It bought her a few moments to feel around her head and find the terrible rip around her throat. Carefully but quickly, she gripped her head by the jaw and twisted back, producing more of the squelching, and saw the Pegasus bearing down on her, wings flared.

Aria kicked at the ground with all her strength and rose onto her back legs. She towered over the pegasus, who approached Aria undeterred. She even matched Aria’s stance before Aria could fall forward again and threw a punch connecting with her chest’s middle.

Whatever the guard was expecting to happen didn’t, and Aria dropped herself down on top of the guard, her hooves on her wings. Something gave, and the guard screamed, and like before, when Aria stood up, she confirmed the guard wouldn’t or couldn’t follow.

Glancing around the room, with no evidence of Sunset being present, Aria took to the stairs and climbed them to the alcove the pegasus had come from. There she found Sunset sitting at a table by herself, a device locked around her horn, and she stared at Aria with wide eyes.

“We should get going,” Aria said with a grin.
> 8 - Sunset
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Magic, as a whole, was a waning art.

There were still commonplace spells many a unicorn could cast. Telekinesis was one such spell; the dexterity of hoof and mouth was far too poor for fine manipulation, making anypony born with a horn more likely to become a tinkerer or engineer.

What few unicorns did practice more advanced spellcasting were formidable at their craft. The skill curve was more akin to a tick, laying flat for most of the population before spiking high among the remaining one percent.

Sunset wasn’t sure where she sat on that curve, but she liked to think she was pretty high.

She hadn’t anticipated the missiles of force loved her way and hadn’t attuned her ward appropriately. When their combined magics collided, it shunted her backwards, creating more distance while leaving an afterimage in Sunset’s eyes. She remained on her hooves the entire slide, and while she was out of breath, the other mare was still panting and wheezing from Aria’s punch. The fact she was still standing was surprising enough, let alone able to cast spells more complex than a spark.

Sunset straightened her back and held her head high. She needed to think, engage her brain and properly consider her spells. Between the telekinetic nets and missiles, this mare knew more than most. Sunset had to do more than cast basic wards and vague attempts at dismantling the incoming magic.

The fact the mare already had Sunset on the back hoof bode ill for Sunset, leaving her worrying they sat on the curve compared to one another.

“I just—“The mare coughed, falling to her hocks, her wheezing voice shockingly low. She gulped down air, holding her head up, then struggled back to her hooves. “I just want to study it!” she managed, at last, still wheezy, but her voice closer to its original high-pitched nasally register.

Whatever Aria did wasn’t permanent, Sunset figured. If it was worse, the mare wouldn’t be regaining her composure as well as she was. Besides, as annoying as she was, Sunset would prefer they didn’t leave a trail of broken bodies.

“Not another word,” Sunset shouted. She cast a more sophisticated spell, not the field of aetheric needles she filled the air with before, designed to pluck apart spells, but one instead designed to intercept, to block.

Azure energy surrounded the mare, creating a bubble surrounded by circular seals, while ghostly pitons dug into the ground to lock the bubble down. They left no mark, no cracks in the floor, but there was little chance a spell could break its way through, Sunset was sure.

It should hold long enough and absorb enough of the mare’s spells for Sunset to turn and run, but she only managed to get a few steps towards the crowd behind her.

With a crackle of energy, the mare appeared before Sunset and widened her stance. Sunset didn’t need to see the bubble to confirm what spell that was. The mare had leapt through the space between them as pure energy, leaving an invisible trail Sunset could sense with only her horn.

She had just teleported.

Sunset had read about it before. She knew it was possible, the accounts were well verified, but few could pull it off without being exhausted, being left sweating and panting from the exertion. Fewer still even understood how it worked, and Sunset hadn’t quite figured out the knack for it. There was something there, though, in a live demonstration…

Stamping a hoof on the ground, Sunset stopped and backpedalled, creating space between her and the mare. The other mage looked better, standing taller, her breath more measured and steady. She’d gone almost wholly still, aside from a widening grin.

“That was pretty clever,” said the mare. “That almost would have worked if you hadn’t left out some fundamentals. Don’t feel bad, though. A lot of ponies tend to neglect a net for air molecules.”

A flick of Sunset’s head launched a widening arc of energy, kicking up the dirt and mud from between the cobblestones where it struck. Decidedly, that wasn’t where the mare stood any longer. She had vanished, but not without trace. Sunset whirled around, following the little telltale trail likely only she and the mare could follow and lobbed another arc out. Before it connected with her opponent, she teleported away, again repeating the same kick of dirt and dust.

They repeated that dance several times, with Sunset spinning around, aiming for where the mage was about to appear, and the mage barely avoided the spell by a hair’s breadth. Keeping her aim low, Sunset ensured she’d avoid the crowd as best she could. Fortunately, everypony that wasn’t involved had the sense to back up, creating a spacious arena for the pair.

“Can you—“Poof. “—Please stop—“Poof. “—Doing that!”

Every teleport was a little more information for Sunset, a little more for her to break apart and examine. The pattern her target zapped around in turned predictable, not that it meant Sunset could hit her. It did mean, however, that she knew where to feel out for the magic. She couldn’t break the spell; anything that targeted oneself could only be prevented, not dispelled. That, however, wasn’t Sunset’s intention. All she needed to do was find a few critical seconds in each cast…

Half a dozen teleports later, the mare didn’t appear where Sunset expected, though the trace elements of the spell led to the air above her.

The shadow that fell upon Sunset forced her hoof, and before the mare landed upon her, Sunset shut her eyes and pulled at every force around her. She had milliseconds to weave what she hoped was the correct pattern—

For a second, Sunset was weightless. She blinked, taking in the surrounding houses. She’d moved down the street, behind where the mare came from, behind some of the gawkers, and let out a shout of joy.

Then a moment later, all that weight came up to meet her, and Sunset fell. She didn’t fall far, thankfully, but it was far enough she crumpled under her own weight, her legs splayed out either side while her jaw smacked the ground.

Sunset shakily rose back to her hooves with stars in her eyes, trying to refocus her vision. The onlookers around her reacted quickly to her presence and backed up to the edges of the street, giving Sunset’s opponent an easy path to simply walk up to her.

Dazed as she was, Sunset wasn’t going to stand still. Rather than teleporting again, she tried running once more. She might have been running out of juice if the mare hadn’t followed her with another teleportation spell.

That was fine by Sunset. Given her imprecise destination, she wasn’t thrilled to try again outside of a controlled environment.

Sunset managed to get a few steps along the street before several glowing crystal shards embedded themselves in the ground before her. A unicorn stallion stood just a few feet beyond, his horn lit with emerald light and half a shattered blade hovering before him. On either side of him were other guards, all of them dressed in the gleaming golden armour of the Royal Guard.

“That was fun!” The mare placed a hoof on Sunset’s shoulder. “But I think we’re going to have to end it for now.”





The device strapped around Sunset’s horn itched. She wanted nothing more than to constantly scratch at it, to yank it off, but understanding what it was, she refrained. If she tried pulling it off herself, it would be painful. There wouldn’t be permanent damage, but it was enough to deter even the most desperate unicorns. It comprised two golden rings inlaid with runes, with several long bars that connected them, and a rounded cap at the point of her horn.

Inhibitor devices such as that robbed the wearer of their magic, meaning Sunset couldn’t remove it the intended way. Though not only did it take away Sunset’s ability to cast spells, but also her ability to sense magic around her. Albeit temporary, she’d lost a sense she’d had her entire life. It was like a limb had gone numb, and likewise, whenever she tried to cast a spell, she had no feedback that it had even failed.

“So, you just gonna sit there brooding?”

From overhearing the guards talking, the mare’s name was Twilight, and she was young. Not just in how she acted and talked but also compared to Sunset’s talent and skill as a teenager years ago. She was certain Twilight hadn’t yet broken out of her teen years, making Sunset’s loss sting a little more.

“Am I not being a good enough guest for you?” Sunset scoffed and turned her attention to the window above them. Sitting as she was, Sunset could only see the leaves of the tree she’d been brought inside and a sliver of sky. She’d got a good look on the way in; the gnarled, half-living structure had been converted into a laboratory. Given the hap-hazard way the cables were tied around branches and twigs, it was a rush job, but one that seemed to be holding up well.

“I mean… Yes?” Twilight sighed. “Though I’ll admit I’d also act like a brat if I were in your shoes.”

Sunset’s fiery glare landed on Twilight, and the younger unicorn at least had enough humility to plane her ears and look away.

“Okay, yeah, insulting you is a bit much. You don’t really deserve that, especially given your talents.” Leaning forward, Twilight rested her head on one of her hooves. “Can you at least answer a couple of questions? Please?”

“Take the inhibitor off, and I’ll answer them.”

With a huff, Twilight rolled her eyes and pushed herself back, standing up as she did. “That’s not up to me. Cardin made that call, and I don’t really have that authority over him. Plus, I’m inclined to agree with his judgement. I’ve never met anypony else who can teleport, except maybe Celestia. Even then, I’m kind of guessing she can since she never taught me that. I just figured it out.”

Sunset’s ear twitched, and her glare softened. “Did you say ‘Celestia’?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, I did. I’ve been her student for years, learning magic, though I’ve taken a shine to some engineering. I actually got a bug up my butt over my latest work, and she forced me out here, but I took my work with me.” Twilight gestured to the room behind her, beneath both of them in their raised alcove. Aetheric converters, electric transformers, a thousand hidden crystals, gears, and cables inside metal boxes are abstractly represented by dozens of gauges, dials, and switches.

None of the laboratory mattered much to Sunset, not at that moment. She gawped at Twilight, a tightness in her chest.

Celestia had replaced her. She thought she was one-of-a-kind, the only protege that Celestia had ever taken up. She didn’t know if she should be offended or respect the decision. It would have been logical, and the monarch was, if anything, a logical pony.

“Hello?” Twilight waved a hoof in Sunset’s face. “Equus to, err.” Twilight hummed for a moment. “You know, I never actually got your name, but you and your golem do match the description of some ponies a friend told me about. Sunburst, is it?”

Sunset snorted but gave no indication of if it was right or wrong. “I didn’t think she’d taken on a new student as her own.”

“Who, Celestia?” Twilight shrugged. “She picked me out when I was young and first applied to her school. I kinda blew the entrance exam, but she was impressed anyway. I can’t say I know what she was thinking at the time, but I’m grateful she picked me out.”

If it was that long ago, Sunset had to wonder why she hadn’t heard of this Twilight before. “And now you’re here doing what, exactly?”

“Well, Celestia wants me to oversee preparations for the Summer Festival before she arrives at the end of the week. She wants everything to be perfect here, for some reason or another and told me to get to know ponies. I’ve brought my work along anyway, but I admit I’ve been a little too distracted with my ‘royal duties’ to focus much on that. Making sure clothing for dignitaries is ready and that there’s enough food for everypony to enjoy is a nightmare of logistics when this whole town used to operate on the ‘we’ll make do’ principle.”

Smiling, Sunset leaned forward over the table between them. Well, now, this mare had quite the motormouth. “And your work? What is it?”

“Same as yours. Not the planning stuff, though I’m pretty good at that, if I might say so myself. I’ve taken up learning golemancy, though, as you probably know, finding appropriate materials to learn from has been difficult. There’s not a single teacher of the subject, and all Celestia tells me to do is be careful and not to push it too far—“Twilight blinked. “You got me monologing.”

“Keep going! You’re cute when you ramble.”

Twilight’s cheeks turned pink, and she puffed out her cheeks. “I am not!” she shouted, slamming a hoof on the table. One of the guards, a pegasus, poked her head up the stairs at the noise, and Twilight glanced back at her before straightening herself out. She breathed out slowly, extending a hoof before her, and then rediscovered her smirk. “I keep underestimating you when I really shouldn’t. I’ve answered a lot of your questions. Why don’t you answer some of mine?”

“Tell you what,” Sunset lowered her voice. “I’ll tell you about me if you tell me more about yourself. Deal?”

“I’ve already told you a lot,” Twilight said flatly.

“Okay, well, I’ll answer three questions of yours for free, and then we can go back and forth a little.”

Twilight puffed out her cheeks again with a pout, her eyes looking off to the side, and then she exhaled. “Fine. Deal. Now—“Twilight leaned forward, lifting herself up with her hooves on the table “—who are you?”

“A local tinkerer and engineer.” Sunset gestured backwards with her head out the window. “The town has the basic infrastructure for power and electricity, but not a lot of ponies know how to even work home appliances, let alone how to deal with any of them when they break. I’ve fixed radios, electric furnaces, as well as fabricating small devices and tools for folks on occasion.”

“I take it not for free.”

Sunset chuckled. “No. Gotta eat somehow.”

Twilight hummed. “None of that tells me your name or where you’re from.”

“I’m from Canterlot, actually. Just like you, from the way you speak and dress. If you had to take an entrance exam, you’re not one of the nobles, but you smell like money. You must be upper class, right?”

Clucking her tongue, Twilight nodded. “You’re good, though if we’re going by knowledge and appearances, you kind of give me a bum scientist vibe.”

Sunset looked down at herself. Her lab coat and undershirt were definitely worn down, grubby and patchy. “I prefer mad scientist. And this is my lucky coat; been with me for years. The holes just add character.”

“And your name?”

“Sunlight Rays.”

Twilight squinted, her eyes boring holes into Sunset’s head, but she kept an amiable smile. “Fine. Your question.”

“Let’s repeat my last one. Tell me about your work.”

Twilight’s eyes lit up, and then she looked over her shoulder. Pink light surrounded her horn, and a moment later, there was a skittering sound from below. A pony shouted and grumbled, and a little beetle-like creature clambered up into the alcove a second later. It had a dark metal exoskeleton, but Sunset made out crystals inset into each joint and a central core containing a more significant, glowing gem through the gaps.

“Like I said, it’s the same as yours but nowhere near as sophisticated. I’m amazed you know as much as you do since I can’t find anything other than a few passing mentions in any textbooks.”

“Self-taught, huh?” Sunset smiled. “No shame in that; that’s where I started out. I actually made a little guy like that after a few tries.”

The little four-legged construct climbed onto the table and stopped before Sunset. It was rudimentary but also very finely crafted and tuned. Its motions were fluid, not like a stilted automaton but something that actually had life in it. If Twilight had the means and know-how, Sunset was sure she could replicate the sisters somehow.

“It took me a year to make this little guy. I call it Spike.”

With a chuckle, Sunset reached out and gave the golem a nudge. It adjusted its posture and resisted her push, staying in place. “Kind of sounds like a dog’s name.”

“My turn: Where did you learn about golemancy?”

Sunset looked at Twilight and drew her leg back, holding it to her chest. “Ah, well… I learned it in Canterlot. I read a bit about it in a few textbooks when I was really young and spent years searching for something with a little more detail. Eventually, I found it, but it wasn’t something I was supposed to just stumble across.”

With wide-eyed rapture, Twilight asked, “What book?”

Sunset chuckled again. “That’s two questions. I get another.” Twilight whined, but Sunset took the lack of words as permission. “Why do you keep calling Aria ‘it’?”

“It is, isn’t it?” Twilight’s face turned into genuine confusion, making it seem like her entire face pressed in, putting a little scrunch on the bridge of her snout. “You can give it a name and anthropomorphise it, but it’s still not a living, breathing thing. It can’t think and act for itself, not really.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sunset muttered.

“What do you mean?”

Sunset wobbled her head as she thought about the question and whether she should even answer at all. She couldn’t give too much away, but at the same time, talking shop with one of the only other ponies knowledgeable on the subject was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“I noticed how smooth and fluid Spike moves,” Sunset said. “Why did you do that?”

“That’s not an ans—“

Sunset held up a hoof. “That was a rhetorical question. I know why you did it. You want to replicate life, see how close you can get before you come up against some wall. Then, when you do, you agonise over it for months and months and months until you figure out how to get around it, either with a big change or small tweaks.

“That’s what I did with Aria and the others. I poured years of work into them, so much of my life spent perfecting how they look and move. There are still limitations, things that I haven’t quite figured out an elegant solution to, but I have come so, so close.” Sunset chuckled. “If it wasn’t for the eyes or their cores, you’d probably think they’re the genuine thing. But I like them that way. Kind of a signature look.?”

Twilight waved a hoof. “They’re pretty close, sure.”

“Well… They aren’t acting like they have life. I’m pretty sure they are alive. They have their own agency, their own personalities. Each one of them is a she, as far as I’m concerned.” There was a moment’s pause. “Or he, or they. I guess that’s up to them. I’m pretty sure they’re not even golems anymore, but whatever they actually are, I’ve not got a word for them.” Idly, Sunset reached out and nudged Spike again. Their sisters were definitely more lifelike, but admittedly, Spike was cute.

For a minute, Twilight didn’t have much to say and settled for watching Sunset play with the automaton. Eventually, with a sigh, she spoke. “I guess that all makes sense, but I’m not sure I agree with your conclusion. “

“You don’t have to agree, but those are the facts. That’s what they are.” Sunset turned her attention back to Twilight. “What do you know about Celestia’s knowledge of golemancy?”

Twilight tilted her head. “As far as I can tell, she only knows the basics. I’ve asked her, and she hasn’t told me more than what it is and some old stories about it, including some fairy tale about a facsimile of her sister. I’m pretty sure we’re both pursuing a lost art.”

Sunset beamed. “I asked her too, once. She told me about a book, one I was forbidden from reading. Of course, dangling something like that in front of ponies like you or me is just asking us to read it.”

As Twilight’s face turned severe, a scowl developing across her lips, Sunset chuckled. “Forbidden and hidden knowledge are just the best, aren’t they?”

Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but before a sound came out, the door to the library slammed open. Whirling around, she leaned up against the railing and peered down. “You could knock, you know!”

“Apologies.” Following Twilight’s gaze, Sunset figured the pony was making his way to the stairs, and a moment later, a yellow stallion with a frazzled blue mane climbed up beside Twilight. Sweat stuck his mane to the side of his head, and his wings hung loosely, gently fluttering against his side. “I just heard that you had an incident involving two ponies. Based on their descriptions, I was in pursuit of one until I lost them on Bolt Street. I figured you would like to know.”

That was a face Sunset thought she wouldn’t see in the longest time, but that was true of a few other guards. While she couldn’t recall any one of their names, she still turned her head away, letting her mane cover up her face, hoping the same was true in reverse. At the same time, she thought over his words and wracked her brain for a mental map of Ponyville. She mostly memorised locations, followed directions and landmarks, and Ponyville lacked proper signage, so the exercise was frustratingly useless.

“Bolt Street?” Twilight asked. “Couldn’t you have grabbed guards to filter through and find them?”

The stallion shook his head. “There wasn’t much time; they’d already run. I did a preliminary check-up and down the street, and when I found my partner, he filled me in on your situation.”

“Did you run the entire time, Flash?”

He smirked and nodded. “Er, yes. Yes, I did. This armour’s not very good for sweating in.”

Twilight sighed and shook her head. “Alright. That’s the street Rarity lives on. If this is the pony I think it is, then she’ll probably tell us if she saw anything.” Looking over her shoulder at Sunset, Twilight sighed. “I’ll be back for you later.”

The conversation was over then. Twilight began her trot down the stairs and disappeared out the front door, taking several guards with her, including the sweaty one. The mare that poked her head up a while ago replaced her, staring at Sunset as she sat across the table.

That was fine. Let her watch. There wasn’t much Sunset could do without her magic anyway.

Spike remained where Twilight left it last, standing atop the table. While it could balance itself when Sunset tried to disrupt it, it struggled with being flipped over. It gave a token resistance, its legs sticking to the table until Sunset gave it a firm tug, then curled those legs up beneath itself. Sunset lifted one of them up and realised the footpads had no visible mechanical component. She’d heard geckos, and some lizards had tiny little hairs that let them hook onto flat surfaces, but that didn’t appear to be the case for Spike, especially given the pads themselves were made of a smooth crystal. They might have contained a spell to achieve their sticky function inside the crystals.

She spread all of Spike’s legs to better examine the construct from beneath. Despite its quadruped nature, Twilight had taken a lot of inspiration from insects. Spike was covered in a series of metal plates that slid over and interlocked with one another, which Sunset tested the limits of by pressing and pulling with her hooves. It was clumsy, but it revealed plenty about Spike’s general construction.

“Fascinating.”

“Creepy is more like it,” said the mare opposite her, and Sunset blushed when she realised she spoke aloud.

“I guess it is a bit. I’m not really bothered by bugs, but this is a little uncanny.”

“Hate ’em. Swallow enough of them when I’m on flight patrol.” The guard shuddered, and her wings poofed up.

Sunset rolled Spike back over with a chuckle and began plucking at the exoskeleton there. She guessed it had room for improvement, as when Sunset lifted two of its back plates, she found empty space. If they were correctly folded, more limbs could have been folded into gap, maybe even wings. Either that or the space was intended for easy access to the core, though there wasn’t a reason it couldn’t be both if the wings were flexible enough.

“What’s the relationship between Twilight and you guys?” Sunset asked.

Tilting her head, the mare frowned at Sunset. “I thought you’d have figured that out already.”

Sunset chuckled and shoved Spike back. Again, it tried to resist her, but her shove was forceful enough it slid across the tabletop. “Even when I was in Canterlot, I didn’t warrant a full squadron of guards. So, what’s the deal?”

“She is important to the Princess. You don’t need to worry about more than that.”

Gently shaking her head, Sunset wondered if she should ask the mare if she recognised her. That said, she was around the same age as Sunset; it was unlikely she was in the Royal Guard when it would matter. She could ask about her colleagues, figure out who else Sunset might vaguely recall, or put a number to how many were present in Ponyville.

Would it really be helpful information, though? Given the circumstances, showing her face in Ponyville again any time soon wouldn’t make much of a difference. The guards would be present up to and shortly after the Festival, and word of Sunset’s tousle with Twilight would be the talk of the town. She’d always be outnumbered and never be able to lie low.

The more she thought about it, the more Sunset realised she just wanted something to do to distract her. With nothing else to do but wait for Twilight to return, Sunset could either fill it with strategy and wit or worry about Aria.

Stars above, she hoped she was okay.

After tapping a hoof idly on the table for a minute, Sunset spoke. “This is a library. If I’m going to have to sit here, would you mind if I grabbed a book?”

The guardsman looked at her, her head lowered in something a step away from a glare. “Why?”

“Why do you think? I want to read something.”

Another few moments of silent judgement later, the mare shrugged and gestured downstairs. Taking the hint, Sunset made her way down to the main floor.

She was captured. She couldn’t cast magic, but she was still the most intelligent pony in the room as far as she was concerned, even when Twilight was present. Aria was out there alone, but she hadn’t been caught yet. Hopefully, Aria wouldn’t be stupid and come to help Sunset, assuming she even knew where she was held.

The wander gave Sunset an excuse to examine Twilight’s equipment. It wasn’t much different in purpose, but it was rounded, more ergonomic. Panels on the sides of some of the machines revealed their origins. Flim Flam Bros Electronic, Pegasus Dynamics, General Aetheretics.

Celestia, some of those names were stupid.

Before the guard caught on to Sunset’s wandering, she turned her attention to the books. There was, fortunately, a lot of fiction on the shelves despite what Twilight had done to the place. As Sunset looked around, she searched for smaller books, anthologies or short stories. She didn’t want to get too engrossed in something just to be taken out of it by Twilight’s return.

20,000 Hands Beneath the Ocean by Mules Verne.

Sunset had read it before but screw it. It was good enough.

Picking it off the shelf with a hoof, Sunset waggled the book the guard’s way before the pair returned to the alcove. Sunset glanced at some of the tools atop the tables and machines. Perhaps if Sunset found something blunt and heavy…

She decided against it and settled for waiting and reading in the alcove.

Sunset ended up skimming over the words for the most part. At least she was trying, and tried for the next short while, hoping to Celestia something more interesting would come up soon.

The first sign Sunset’s wish would be granted was a shout from out the front door. Sunset and the guard snapped their heads around, watching the front door closely. While it was difficult to see much, the tiny sliver offered Sunset the view of a stallion in golden armour lying on his side.

“Oh no.” Sunset swallowed and stood, quickly garnering the attention of the guardsman.

“What do you mean, ‘oh no’?” she snapped.

More shouting and gasps, the distinct whine of magic, then quiet. It wasn’t silent, there was still plenty of muttering, but the lull in activity didn’t sit well with Sunset.

The glimpse of Aria kicking the front door down didn’t sit well at all.

The guard disappeared over the edge, and Sunset watched her descent by poking her head up enough to peer through the railing.

The sight of Aria’s head turned 180 degrees around made Sunset feel woozy, but she couldn’t look away. She wanted her to give up and run, but at the same time, the sheer fact Aria had got past however many guards outside left Sunset rooting for her.

Right until she had the pegasus on the floor. Sunset pulled away before Aria’s leg came down, but the scream filled in the mental image. Sunset swallowed the bile rising in her throat, watching the stairs for Aria’s ascent.

Aria appeared a moment later, her clothing featuring scrapes and cuts and too many gnarly gouges in her skin for Sunset to forgive. She seemed to wear the damage like a trophy, grinning as she was at Sunset.

“We should get going,” was all she needed to say for Sunset to break into action. Sunset swept up Spike in a leg and descended the stairs while putting every ounce of effort into trying to ignore the whimpering pegasus in the middle of the library.

“That was stupid, that was stupid, that was so very stupid—“The words spilt out of Sunset’s mouth and fell onto dozens of ears as she stepped outside, while she put every ounce of effort to not stare at the two crumpled bodies.

“I would have liked a ‘Thank you,’ but I won’t be too picky right now.”
> 9 - Adagio
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Though it took time, Adagio was getting used to her new leg. It still felt weird, sometimes hanging behind like it was too heavy for her and other times flinging forward quicker than she expected as if all its mass temporarily vanished. It made her gait awkward and hobbling, but every day was an improvement, getting closer to walking without even the slightest limp.

It stopped getting in the way of her daily activities, at least. Adagio had given herself little chores to keep her mind engaged. Biding her time until she could head out with the others, Adagio wanted to be sure her leg would no longer be an impediment when it counted the most.

On reflection, she could have insisted on leaving with Aria and Sunset earlier that day, but there were already a few things on her checklist that she wanted to do more than go shopping.

Most of those things involved continuing her little renovation project. Despite the years of dirt and wear at its edges, the lovely lilac banner Sonata brought as a makeshift bandage had found its way to being used as curtains. She'd cut them into strips, though the threads still frayed a little and were nailed into the walls around the windows. Others were stapled around the bed as an ineffective draping, though it improved the room's colour, softening the sun's light as it shone through and bathing it in a faint pink glow.

Adagio wasn't content to just stop there, not at all. She'd explored the little storage space above the lab--the attic, as Adagio called it--and discovered some old, frayed brushes. While she could not find any paint upstairs, she figured that using some of the product from the dye works Sunset had set up might actually do the job. Using a pail, she'd gathered up some of the pasteurised sludge, and after some test layers on an orphaned plank of wood, Adagio was sure her idea would work.

So there she was, using the brush in her mouth to paint lines of thin, streaky paint up and down one of the shack's interior walls. It looked rough at that moment, but a few layers in, she was confident it would be beautifully smooth, a deep, rich purple to compliment the curtains.

It was also rather meditative. A feeling of zen washed over Adagio like a wave of contentedness, with all her focus on the wall and the brush and none of it on the world beyond her and the wall. She hummed a melody she didn't know, slow and meandering, as if trying to find what sort of tune it was supposed to be. Each measure was similar but not quite the same, as if whatever drove Adagio to hum was trying to find a particular song through her voice.

Her brush fell to the floor when the shack's door flung open, slamming into the counters beside it. Sunset barged in, her eyes wide, and Adagio spun around to meet Sunset's gaze. The wild look on Sunset's face calmed somewhat, with her shoulders falling an inch or two.

"Oh, thank Celestia, they haven't figured out where we are yet," Sunset said, her voice hoarse and breathy.

One of Sunset's front legs held a lump under one edge of her dirty lab coat, and a black metal protrusion stuck out, pinned to her chest. Before Adagio could ask about it, Aria staggered in after Sunset and closed the door behind her. The way she moved was uneven, and the moment she stopped, leaning against the wall, she held a hoof to her head.

"What's wrong?" Adagio asked. She strode past Sunset, sparing her a quick visual check along her side. The coat was a little scuffed--a little more than its usual, anyway--but Sunset was none the worse for wear on the outside.

"Your friend found us," Aria answered, and Adagio brought a hoof to her mouth.

Aria's cloak shadowed the damage, but her chest and front legs were covered in minor cuts. Little pieces of rubber flesh were carved out, a series of small gouges. Some were clean-cut, but others looked ragged, having been torn away.

And that wasn't to mention her neck, a ragged seam that intercepted the bolts at either side of her throat. None of the fake flesh sat right, and some small pieces were even hanging off, threatening to fall with just a little more friction. The gaps in the flesh exposed some of the metal within, with at least one narrow rod having snapped, digging further into the rubber.

Adagio whirled around, and she shoved a foreleg into Sunset's shoulder. "What. Happened."

Blinking a few times, Sunset glanced between Aria and Adagio. "I was distracted by something else," Sunset explained. "Another problem, though in hindsight, it's all the same."

"And in your distraction, you let Aria get hurt?" Adagio growled, bunching up her shoulders to give her a little more height and size.

Sunset tucked her head in and shrank back. "I tried to help. She was fine, but she came back for me. It was stupid--"

"But it helped," Aria barked over Adagio's shoulder. With a glance back at her sister, Adagio knew what was said was meant for her as much as it was meant for Sunset. "You weren't going anywhere fast, and I couldn't wait on 'Dagi and 'Nata to just get better."

Adagio shifted her glare to Aria. It figured she wouldn't give Adagio the same shrinking violet act that Sunset had perfected. She wasn't cute enough for it anyway.

"I would have figured something out." Sunset stamped a hoof down. "You should have come back here to keep them safe, and I would've found a way to escape without breaking anypony's bones."

"They're still breathing, ain't they? Besides, now we're both back, safe and sound. I think I deserve that thank you now."

"Fu--"

Rolling her eyes, Adagio stepped between the two, a hoof on Sunset's mouth and her broken eye focused on Aria. "What I'm hearing is you're both idiots?" she asked, tilting her head. Then she shut her eyes, pitching her head forward. "There's no point in arguing over it now. I care about what it means next and who to blame." She then drew her hoof off Sunset's mouth. "Continue."

Sunset's eyes darted side to side, trying to find the thread of her thoughts again. "Her name is Twilight, and she has allies. Royal guards. I kind of figured they'd be arriving for the festival at some point, but we'd have been able to ignore them."

Another glare went Aria's way. "I'm impressed by your stupidity and capability, Aria. Broken bones, you said?"

Aria nodded. "I'm not sure I could go up against the rest, but it was enough."

"So we're all in trouble, then?" Adagio asked Sunset.

"They're resourceful, and Twilight is important. 'Trouble' is just the start." She started for the stairs, but Adagio stepped in front of her, stopping Sunset dead in her tracks. "I need to get to work. Please."

"You better be planning on fixing them up."

With a sigh, Sunset shook her head. "Not immediately. Mixing up and moulding your skin takes time, and besides that, you're not tough enough. I didn't make you to fight. I don't want you to fight." Sunset drew out the thing from her coat as if by way of explanation. It looked like a giant, bulbous insect, lacking its middle pair of legs, balanced on its back in the frog of Sunset's hoof. "I've got an idea, and this is part of it. Trust me."

"She's been doing her weirdo muttering all the way back here," said Aria. "Can't hurt. I'm sure if trouble comes back, you and I can deal with it."

Adagio held her stare for a few moments more, then stepped aside. Sunset nodded and trotted up the stairs.

"Were you followed?" Adagio asked

"Eh. I don't think so, but some have got wings. I can spot timberwolves, but not birds."

With a hum, Adagio pointed back at the door. "Keep watch. Let us know if you see anyone." She didn't wait to see if Aria acknowledged her and climbed the stairs to the lab.

Sunset was already at work. The little robot had been laid on its back on the middle table, having been moved away from Sonata since the night before. There, Sunset tried to pry some of its plates apart by hoof, pinning one to the table and leveraging the other up and forward.

It took Adagio a few moments to figure out why the way Sunset worked was odd, but it did eventually click. Sunset wasn't using her magic.

Was Sunset that shaken up? She was easy to mess with and break down, but when she wasn't being made to mewl, she was quick-witted and clever. Sunset tackled her problems with confidence.

Just when Adagio wanted to ask the question, she paused, spotting the golden accessory atop Sunset's horn. Adagio had glossed over it in her anger, she realised, missing the fact that Sunset hadn't left with it earlier that day.

Adagio sidled up to Sunset and gave her a little push with her flank. It was but a slight nudge, but her mass and size ensured Sunset stepped aside, and Adagio took over, one hoof pinning a panel and the other pushing one away. Both panels bent, and she flattened them against the table.

"Thank you," Sunset muttered. "Do the same for the legs, out at even angles. Seize up the joints, but don't damage the crystals." She then trotted over to her desk, pulling open a few more drawers and leaving Adagio to follow the instructions she gave. It was simple enough, borderline destructive.

"Is this like a mini version of us?" Adagio asked. One of the joints squished, the outer ring cracking in places, though when Adagaio nudged it, the entire leg moved as one solid object.

"It's a golem, yes," Sunset answered. She brought a small contraption back to the table made of coiled wires and connectors and slid it up against the little robot's back from behind. She hummed, then looked over at Sonata, who had been dutifully quiet up to that point. "I can't weld this on. You got any ideas?"

Tapping her chin, Sonata thought for a few seconds. "You could use wire! It won't be too firm, but at least it would connect it."

Sunset shook her head. "No, not for this part. Maybe the joints, those can be flexible." Humming Sunset paced around the table. "Unless..."

She hurried back to the desk, yanking one of the draws clean out and onto the floor. She nosed inside, nudging the various materials and knickknacks with her snout, before approaching the table again with a spool of shiny, brown wire.

"Unroll that and wrap it around loose parts a few times," Sunset explained. "I think I have some peridot we can put in."

"Peridot?" Adagio tilted her head.

"She has to match the colours," Sonata explained. "The gems are different colours, but she has to use ones that match; otherwise, nothing will connect properly."

Adagio squinted. "That's how it works?"

With an awkward chuckle, Sunset shrugged. "She's right, actually. The exact chemical properties aren't as important." Another drawer flew out, full of roughly cut crystals of various colours. Some gems clattered across the floor, though Sunset's attention was on the drawer. "I wish I had more of these prepped, but they'll have to do. Though, maybe the excess heat from uncut crystals will work to our advantage..."

"What are we making?" Adagio asked, and Sunset jumped a little. "Because if you're going to fumble around, I want to know how broken this little experiment is going to be."

"I'm hijacking a golem to make my own," Sunset said. "This one is simple-minded, easy to control. It's like a windup toy, but one that can respond to magic commands. If we add a few crystals to the right places, we can switch to verbal commands, hopefully." She hummed. "Though I'd need to instil it with the understanding, somehow. What can I do to accomplish that?" Sunset started pacing again, her eyes downcast and locked to the floor.

Sonata rose a hoof, and her back creaked. "Could we take something from 'Dagi or me?" she asked.

Sunset stopped and faced Sonata, her eyes wide. "That... that might just actually work."

"No." Adagio banged a hoof on the table, producing a dull metallic thud. "We are not taking parts out of Sonata for this. This is a crazy idea."

"No, it's not. We're not taking anything physical out. I can't risk messing with your circuits, especially since all three of you are broken now." Sunset blanched when she caught Sonata's expression. "Aria's mostly fine," she added.

"So what are you going to do?" Adagio moved to place herself between Sunset and Sonata. "Because taking something implies removing something, right?"

Sunset waved a hoof in a so-so gesture, frog down. "In a sense, though, it's more like copying. We already did it with you, though there wasn't anything to copy over; we just had to run some power through you." Sunset walked over to the great machine, still mostly busted, but there were still intact cables for Sunset to drag back over to Sonata. "Unprogrammed gems can copy over information if tuned right. The issue is we'll need more power, and I'm not sure we have time to wait for a storm."

"I'm taking it with that doohicky on your head; you can't just magic in some power?"

With a chuckle and a shrug, Sunset shook her head. "Probably not even then. I like to think my magic is pretty strong, but unicorns are incredibly inefficient aetheric conductors. We'd need a lot of unicorns or just one or two naturally powerful ones." She hummed. "Maybe we can make a loop using two of you, fiddle with your cores' limiters..." As Sunset's inner monologue began to pour out, turning into muttered syllables that Adagio hadn't a hope of following, she made her way upstairs to the attic.

At the same time, Aria's head poked up from the other winding stairwell. "We got company," she said.

Adagio's ears perked, though it seemed Sunset hadn't noticed. Rather than interrupt the egg-head mid though, Adagio rushed down with Aria to the shack.

The curtains had since been drawn shut, except for a tiny sliver of unfiltered light that came through the middle and sides. Somehow, unheard by anypony in the lab, Aria shoved some of the furniture closer to the tower wall, leaving her space to move around and peer through the windows. The exception was with the bed, which she'd pushed up against the front door.

Softly, Aria spoke. "No one's come out of the forest, but I spotted a few bodies moving around." She snorted. "That armour is a joke; it's too shiny and easy to see."

She stepped back and pointed to the window, allowing Adagio to peer out. Light overwhelmed the fractured eye, forcing Adagio to shut it and squint with the other, sliding mechanical lids down. It only took a few moments to find the golden glint reflected through branches and bushes. Once she knew what to look for, the rest of the wearer came into focus, helmet to leg.

When Adagio turned to Aria, she was pointing at another window. Peering out of that one, it took Adagio just as quick before she spotted another pony.

Neither of the spies had horns or wings, but that wasn't to say there weren't others out there who did. Adagio had seen first hoof what those with magic could do, and while she'd yet to see a pegasus fly, she wasn't sure it was beyond them, either.

"Reckon, you could take two?" Adagio asked as she peered out a few more gaps, though she failed to spot any further wannabe intruders.

"Probably, but I don't like my chances of coming back."

With a smirk and a monosyllabic laugh, Adagio nodded. "Things are about to get much more interesting. I wonder if Sunset can get her new toy together in the next few minutes."

"If anypony can..." Aria took place by one of the other windows, her snout a millimetre away from disturbing the curtains. "I think we're going to need to come up with a different plan than fighting them, though. I'm pretty sure I came out so well because I caught them by surprise. They're going to be expecting us this time."

"And if that Twilight pony is with them..." Adagio tsked. "What do you think we should do?"

Aria shrugged. "Sacrifice one of us; give the others time to run. It worked earlier today. I give myself fifty-fifty odds of not being cut open and just being stuck in a cell, as long as we don't kill anything."

"I'm not sure I like that option. I'd really prefer not to lose any of you, including Sunset." Adagio huffed. "They're biding their time, waiting for others to arrive. I bet they'd have rushed in by now otherwise."

Aria said nothing more, ending the conversation, and Adagio climbed back to the lab.

Sunset had hauled a mass of parts that piled around the base of the table, and she was rifling through them. Plenty were twisted or poorly made, pockmarked with poor welds and rust. Some even had holes where she figured there ought to be none, not at all shaped right to socket a crystal.

Whatever state most of those parts were in, Sunset was making do with what few weren't as badly damaged. Bigger, thicker parts with fewer bends, laid out flat on top of the table. Even if Sunset had her magic, Adagio would be surprised if she could actually work with the pieces.

She only had to take a few steps closer to see that the parts were arranged in a vaguely pony-like shape. At a glance it seemed big, bigger than even Adagio and her sisters, though she thought it may be a trick of perspective caused by everything laid out so loosely, and so many curved panels filling the empty spaces between everything.

None of the parts matched exactly, made of different metals of different shades. Some were different lengths, and it would take some convincing to get Adagio to believe they would properly fit to each other. Between half the loose parts was a gem, loosely tied to each metallic bone with more copper wire, and Sunset was busy filling the rest of the metal canvas with more pieces, more winds of wire, more gems.

"I'll be honest, Sunny, this is looking like shoddy work." Adagio stood on the opposite side of the table to Sunset, examining what she assumed was a foreleg. "I have a feeling we didn't start out like this."

"You'd be surprised," Sunset said. "I'm working with scraps and pieces of older prototypes, when I was going for durability over form. Plus, half your joints aren't as secure as you like to think. It's the silicone and gems holding you together more than the metal." She then huffed, puffing up her cheeks. "Though this golem is going to be about as unsecure as it gets. If we get time, I can reinforce things with the right tools--"

"Speaking of time...," Adagio said, interrupting Sunset. "They found us. Aria spotted a couple in the forest."

Sunset's ears planed out, and the colour drained from her face. She started toward the stairs, but Aria shoved out a leg, stopping Sunset in her tracks.

"Sunset, what are we going to do?" The tone was level, the words loud and clear. Aria's solution couldn't be the only one, and the one pony with more wisdom in this world ought to be able to come up with something, even if Adagio may have to disregard it.

Swallowing, Sunset glanced between Adagio and the stairs. "If they really are here, it's just a matter of time before Twilight gets here too. Without my magic, we may as well give up."

Adagio hmphed and reached up a hoof to tap at the golden device wrapped around Sunset's horn. "I'm taking it that has something to do with it? I'm assuming it doesn't come off easily, or it would be gone already."

Sunset nodded. "Only another unicorn can take it off safely. Unicorns are dangerously dexterous, and most prisoners tend to be fitted with them. There are more cruel versions out there, but I think Twilight just wanted to ensure I wouldn't try anything funny." Tapping her chin, Sunset turned back to the skeleton, staring at its bare ribs. "I could actually weld parts if I could remove it. Reshape pieces, ensure they are properly treated and ready..." Trailing off, Sunset slumped, resting her chin on the table with a thunk.

"I think we're screwed," she added after a long pause. "Using your cores will take time we don't have." Sunset blinked, her eyes rising up to her forehead. "But... If we could tap into the power of a bunch of unicorns, then maybe..."

She hopped to her feet, spinning around to Adagio. "All we need is ten minutes."

Reaching out a hoof, Adagio ruffled Sunset's mane to her visible chagrin. "Atta girl."





The lack of clouds struck Adagio as strange. She was born into a world dark and overcast with them, but since then, they had been pushed out, replaced with increasingly warm days and sunny skies.

Sunset explained that it was by design. The magic of pegasi was harnessed to regulate the weather, and big storms could ensure weeks of sunny weather. Adagio wasn't sure she liked the thought too much. It was unnatural,  putting too much power into the hands of a single group, though if she were part of the said group, she might not complain so much.

That was all she could really think about as she stood on the top of the tower. She wasn't exactly hidden by the parapets, as she could see over their lower sections into the forest, catching glimpses of gold filigree. At least a few pegasi were patrolling around, their circles long and lazy, but their eyes were on Adagio.

The fact they hadn't landed just yet indicated they either weren't confident in their abilities--likely the gift Aria gave them--or weren't sure how many more ponies and golems were in the tower.

Their caution meant Adagio was able to work unimpeded. Minutes before, she'd wrapped the lightning rod that juts from the top of the tower in sheets ripped from Sunset's bed, with painted purple sigils soaking into the cloth. They were similar to the sigils on the device on Sunset's horn, but nothing indicated anything particularly magical about them in this instance.

Copper wiring hastily woven into the cloth kept it from unwinding, but the stronger breeze this high up tugged at threads, slowly pulling the cotton apart. It would hold for a few days, at the very least, more than long enough to serve its purpose. A few unicorns stood at the edge of the treeline, and at least a few of them wielded ethereal blades they held out at the ready, pointed to the tower.

Stepping out of the tree line, Twilight looked up and around at the tower. She turned and spoke to a guard sidling up beside her, another one of the winged ones with a yellow coat, and he gestured to the top where Adagio stood.

Adagio waved down at Twilight with a smirk, only to receive a glare in return. They'd just think she was a lookout, reporting what she could see and ensuring anypony that tried to make their way in from the top would have to contend with her, even if it was only for a few moments.

All technically accurate assumptions, Adagio supposed.

"Come on out," Twilight shouted. Her voice echoed, bouncing off the valley walls, leaving Adagio to assume it had been magically enhanced. "I'm not gonna play with you this time. If you resist, you're just delaying the inevitable."

"We'll take our chances." Compared to Twilight's voice, Sunset's came across as meek, having none of the benefits of magic or technology to help carry it. Adagio could only hear it at all because her voice echoed up the stairs behind her. "I have some unfinished work I need to wrap up. I can't leave it as is. You understand, as a scientist, right?"

Rolling her eyes, Twilight made a series of gestures to the stallion beside her. He nodded and disappeared back into the forest. Adagio's eyes followed him briefly before the thicket below obscured his path too much.

Given he had wings, he could be a messenger, ready to deliver tasks to the other ponies at a moment's notice. Given Twilight's ability to project her voice, though, Adagio wasn't entirely sure that was the purpose. She'd just have to keep a closer eye on the pegasi above to be sure they didn't interfere.

Sunset's plan was straightforward enough, though it was a gamble. The jury-rigged rod was tightly secured to the tower's edge, but after a bit of fiddling, it had been loosened up so that a good kick or two could send it careening over the edge. All Adagio needed to wait for was several unicorns to stick their noses out and approach the tower, and she'd send it down to land in front or between them. Sunset gave about a fifty-fifty chance that it would sap out the energy from any active spells, drawing them in through the rod and back into the tower, through Aria and Sonata and into the new golem she'd made. Adagio hadn't seen it since Sunset had devised the plan, so she was dubious that it could do much. She liked Aria's plan more by the minute, though, especially since the bait was likely to become somepony Adagio didn't know.

There was the possibility it didn't work. The tower fell, but it didn't siphon enough power, though Sunset explained that if that happened, it would likely still drain some of the unicorns, evening the fight just a little.

It would still be an incredibly uneven playing field.

As time passed, no unicorns stepped forward, with no command given. Twilight examined the castle, slowly trotting around to one side while maintaining her distance, her horn aglow. Adagio couldn't comprehend what Twilight was doing, and as she watched, an odd distortion flickered through the fractured image in Adagio's left eye.

Little shockwaves emanated from Twilight's horn. Nothing Adagio could feel, nothing that disturbed even the grass around Twilight's hooves, but they were there. They bounced off the wall back to Twilight, and she adjusted her position again every few moments.

Eventually, Twilight made her way back to where she initially stood, and that smug, muck-eating grin split her face. "You really ought to have set up some passive wards," Twilight shouted. "I'm coming in."

Adagio raised her eyebrow but didn't get a second to question what was happening. "Adagio, now!" Sunset yelled up the stairs, and that was all she needed.

Adagio spun and kicked the lightning rod, the metal snapping away. It fell, taking a cable along with it, strapped to the outside wall of the tower. Every few feet, it ripped out a fastening, a series of eerie twangs matched with every snap.

Adagio managed to peer over the parapet just in time to see Twilight vanish from sight right as the rod pierced the ground a few feet ahead of where she was standing. It buzzed, then glowed, the rags burning away with a bright, pink heat. It zipped along the cable and through one of the narrow murder holes that served as windows halfway up the tower and into Sunset's lab.

She had to shut her eyes. The rod's shine was so intense that it overloaded her vision, blurring out everything around it. She couldn't see the forest or even the parapets she stood beside.

Their ears twitched when the sound of crashing and shouting came up to meet her from the stairs. Looking away from the tower's edge, she glanced skyward, catching glimpses at the pegasi in the distance. Despite the afterimage burned into her vision, she could tell they were far off.

However, it was only a matter of time before they dove down to get involved with the oncoming commotion.

Adagio darted down the stairs, pulling the hatch over with a hoof. It would buy them a few seconds, nothing more. She heard more shouting, a loud clang. She recognised Sonata's voice in the commotion, screaming her name.

She barrelled down the stairs to the lab, hoping to make sense of the scene before she acted. Smoke floated at the ceiling, like an overcast sky meant for the lab and lab alone, much of it pouring out of the great machine. Twilight and Sunset tussled in the middle of the room, not with spells but with jaw and hoof. Sunset appeared to be on the defensive, twirling around to ensure she was between Twilight and Sonata.

Sonata's table was upturned, some hinge connecting the base having snapped. Sonata herself stumbled for the stairs in a jittering, reversed gait. Wires still jut out from her neck, glowing hot and leaving ruddy black marks on the floor.

Adagio wrapped a leg around Sonata's chest and pushed her up the stairs. She fell, her chin smacking on the floor, but being low likely meant she was less of a target. Putting herself between Sonata and the others ensured there were two layers between danger and her sister.

Off to one side, Aria stood by the stairs leading down, blocking off the exit for the wheezing, panting unicorn. Twilight held her chest, glaring at all four of them.

"What have you done?" Twilight's horn glowed, and for a second, she shimmered, her image flickering about a few inches from side to side. In a blink, She jolted a foot to the right, slamming into the table occupied by an entity not entirely different to the skeleton that lay there only minutes before. Pieces had snapped into place, a tremendous black carapace surrounding its frame like unyielding metal skin.

It grunted, and every eye turned to it as it lifted its head and shoulders off the table. Emerald eyes set into black, charred-looking metal squinted at the scene before it.

It leapt, and in a flash of green fire, it and Twilight vanished.
> 10 - ???
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

A cacophony of colours and shapes assaulted her. They were unfamiliar, but she felt she ought to know them, bringing pain and anger with them.

Grey climbed high, surrounding her in its various shades. Lighter at the sides, darker underneath her. It was dreadful and dreary, achingly familiar yet easy to hate, hate, hate.

She hated it. She hated it so much; so boring and messy.

Pastel blue, deep purple, and shades of orange and red stood somewhere in the grey sea. They were squat shapes, roughly square, then surrounded by a barrage of rounded edges and straight lines in even more shades and patterns. Like the space, they ought to mean something, and she needed to figure out what.

Something smashed against her cold, hard bed, and she whipped her head around to a trembling lavender shape. It was close enough that she made out white circles and more of that rich colour within them. Eyes that she undoubtedly recognised, having been subject to them time and again on a similar bed elsewhere.

More of that anger, a thirst for... for revenge? Payback? But also some sense of affection.

She pounced on the shape, and her head exploded into a whistling light show. She jerked herself to the side, and the body with her, while the greys turned brown, and the formless distance came into stark focus as lines of colourful rectangles split the brown up.

She'd landed on her back, the lavender shape tossed in another direction. She knew it was there; it was a matter of turning her head and spotting it. It was there. It belonged in this place, where she could find it if ever she lost it.

She kicked out a leg and a metal plate from her back, pushing her into a roll and onto her hooves. Once up, it didn't take a second to see the mare staring at her, eyes wide.

The mare made a noise, some sound that came from its mouth. Sp-spaie...?

"Spike?"

She tilted her head, then looked herself up and down, examining her hooves and back. Her black carapace looked filthy, covered in brown and grey, and each of her plates and limbs was a slightly different shade, though they were all close to black, giving her the impression of charred bones.

"I have no spikes," she said, facing the mare again.

The mare. Straight, dark blue mane, a stripe or pink and purple. Eyes that bore down on her in concentration and thought, tugging at small pieces of her--tugging at large pieces of her. Lifting her, chasing her.

"You didn't have any before, either. It's your name. I'm certain you're Spike." Twilight swallowed, her stature small from her high vantage. "What did she do?"

The name settled in her mind easily. Plenty of voices had said it, and the mare responded most of the time.

"Why do I know you?" Her voice was deep, buzzing, reverberating in her throat and chest, and even making her legs vibrate. It was a good feeling. Not tingly as she thought it would be. Powerful.

"I made you," Twilight answered. "Only... not like this. She's done something to you."

Twilight glanced around at their surroundings for a moment. Surrounding them were grainy walls and brown shelves, books of all colours lining them, machines between them all. There were different noises outside, more voices, more chattering and hoofsteps, muffled by the walls. Dozens of bodies beyond. Dozens of...

What was any of it?

It was a stew in the air, simultaneously light and heavy. A muffled laugh made it lighter and a shout darker.

Putting a hoof to her face, she shut her eyes. All her attention focused on the pressure on the top plate of her face. While the sights around her were muted and shut out, the sounds and feelings from outside grew louder, as if amplified by her lack of vision.

Twilight walked around her. Tracking her procession was simple, between the sound of her hooves and heartbeat and the similar energy she exuded, albeit stronger in proximity. "Remarkable work. You're already standing and have a grasp of language. I haven't a clue why she made the other modifications, but maybe that works to my advantage--"

"Stop." She whirled around on Twilight, her larger stature enabling her to tower over the smaller mare. "Stop talking, or speak plainly."

The buzz in her voice grew deeper, louder. She intended to intimidate, but Twilight merely looked surprised before she set her jaw. Twilight's horn fizzled a brief pink aura surrounding it until it flickered out. Simultaneously, something tugged at her mind. A command. An order. 'Heel'.

She ignored it and bared her teeth at Twilight. "Was that you?" she asked, a note of amusement in her voice. When Twilight blanched, her confident focus melting away to a frightened frown, she chuckled at the mage. "Cute. Don't try it again."

"What--? How is she doing this?" Twilight backpedalled from her, her hoofs sliding across the floor. "She can barely teleport herself, and my signature can't be overwritten--"

She stamped a hoof on the ground, and Twilight's eyes snapped back up to her. Something seemed to dawn in Twilight's mind at that moment, and the hairs on her back raised, fluffing her out.

"Unless she's not controlling you."

She scoffed at Twilight. "No one is controlling me, sweetling, least of all you."

Turning, Twilight proceeded to pace around once more. "No, no. That can't be right. Golems cannot think for themselves. Even autonomous commands should be limited." It took a few moments to realise that it wasn't a random direction, but rather Twilight was putting herself in front of the door. "You're not an individual. You cannot think for yourself. You're just a sophisticated algorithm that she's put together."

Cackling, Twilight turned to face her again, and her mouth curled into a twisted grin. "She didn't teach you. She couldn't have. She's got some quick-fire programming that she's put into you, and I'm going to find out what it is."

Twilight's horn ignited again. Tools rose around the room. Screwdrivers, saws, hammers.

They wobbled in the air, some swaying, and then Twilight's horn winked out as she collapsed to the floor. Everything she held fell with a clatter, much bouncing onto the floor. Staring at some non-specific point, her eyes rapidly moved from side to side. "What is happening?" she whimpered her voice light and cracking.

From the centre of the room, she glared at Twilight. "You keep saying, 'she.' Who are you talking about?"

When Twilight didn't respond, she walked up to her and nudged her head with a pockmarked hoof beneath her chin. She narrowed her eyes at Twilight's, locking gazes. "Who are you talking about?"

"Sunny something. She modified you, made you much... much bigger."

It was but a fragment, but the fragment that rang familiar. Scant flashes of orange fur and a different table flit past her mind's eye. A stone tower. Others like her, and though smaller and softer than her rugged form, they stood taller than Twilight.

Was that the pony she saw in a scuffle with Twilight before they disappeared to this... library?

"The pony who bloodied your nose?" She chuckled. "Maybe I should speak with her instead of you. So far, she hasn't threatened me or denied my personhood."

"W-wait, you can't!" Twilight reached up, her legs wrapping around a foreleg. "You are mine, not hers. You are supposed to obey me!"

With a hoof on Twilight's face, she pushed her off her leg, like scraping away a clinging insect. With a pathetic flail, Twilight vainly tried reaching for her again, but she put distance between the shaking mare and herself.

Anger. Frustration. There was a sense of grief there, she was sure.

"Ask me nicely."

Thoughts of the first place, the grey room, came back to mind, followed by an urge to stretch. Metal slid across metal, and glancing over her shoulder confirmed that her back had opened, unveiling twin veils of sickly green energy.

Twilight sniffled. "Wh-what?"

"Ask me nicely, and I might stick around with you. You're so pathetic that I feel like pitying you."

More anger, more confusion. She grinned, a segmented metal tongue sliding over her jaw with a series of clicks. The emotions were delicious.

"Please," Twilight begged. "Please stay. We'll work together."

The veils buzzed, vibrating the air around her and lifting her off the ground. Loose papers flew, open books rifling through pages. "I'll think about it," she said. "Tata, sweetling."

The last thing she saw of Twilight was her jaw-dropping, followed by increasingly familiar disorientation. She latched onto some string of reality and rode it along, tiny flashes of the real world flicking by her eyes. Now that she was able to make sense of more of it, she recognised the houses and fields, the forest between them.

She came out above a circular tower, careening head over hoof through the air before her wings steadied her. It didn't take long before she spotted a pair of ponies standing atop a roof, their attention glued to a hatch, as their golden armour twinkled in the sunlight.

A shout sounded from beneath, and she spotted a crowd of similarly garbed ponies surrounding a run-down shack attached to the tower's base. One pointed up at her, and more eyes turned skyward, including the two pegasi. They spread their wings and leapt off the battlements, and with only a few beats, they closed in on her, hooves outstretched.

They didn't seem like they ought to hit as hard as they did, but her chassis rang with the collision. Once more, she tumbled over and over in the air, though the arc was considerably more chaotic as she had latched firmly onto one of her assailants.

The pegasus squirmed in her grip, growling at her. Neither she nor the pegasus had control of their path, and the ground fast approached them. So, she shut her wings and yet again yanked on the wire.

Her back slammed against a wall upon their arrival back in the library. That seemed to harm the pony in her grip more than her, judging by the wheeze and slack fluttering. When she let them go, they fell away, encouraged by a shove that sent them stumbling into one of the many stout machines.

Twilight remained where she was left, gobsmacked.

"Think of a name for me. If you really made me, I can give you that."

Twilight opened her mouth.

"And something other than Spike, if you please."

Again, the wire. Again, the tower. The trip was becoming fairly rote and easy to hop to and fro. That time she came in where she left, wings buzzing like a storm and lifted her to the sky toward the other pegasus.

She aimed to miss that time but extended her legs to either side. A crunch and a total shift in her centre of gravity later, she had the other pegasus in her grip. She tossed that one over into the forest before turning her attention toward the crowd.

Four of them were at the door, another four further out. They hadn't struck her yet, and only one there had the ability to meet her in the air, but if she landed, she reckoned it was only a matter of time. The last pegasus was part of the three by the door and was counting down while a unicorn's horn blazed brighter and brighter.

With a quick glance at the tower, she flew over and landed on the wall beside a tall, narrow slit. Despite gravity pulling at her, she found her wings unnecessary to help her stick.

Her eyes quickly adjusted to the light level inside the tower, and she took a few moments to make sense of it.

Metal tables. An old, wooden desk. Stone stairs that wound up and down. A massive machine like those in Twilight's library.

And the three figures within. One was half a pony, blue and quivering, supported by one with an immense, fluffy mane. Another pony stood by the stairs leading down, standing a head shorter than the first two, holding up a hoof and yelling something she only caught fragments of. Judging by her body language, she assumed the mare was keeping the other two ponies from the stairs.

The pony by the door reached zero. As she turned to look, the unicorn's blast didn't go off. Instead, the door flew off its hinges and smacked the poor sod in the face, and a purple pony with a torn-up uniform chased after it. The door settled on top of the unicorn, their horn stuck in the wood, and the counter-attacking one used the door as a springboard to leap behind the group, turning around as she skidded across the dirt.

Well, if they have a common enemy...

She stretched out her forelegs and dove down, ready to catch a unicorn and an earth pony at the preiphery. One turned their head a little too late, their cheek baring the brunt of her weight and speed as she descended upon them, burying them into the ground.

Attached to them, it was easy enough for her to quickly drag them along the wire, depositing them on top of the first pegasus as they were being tended to by Twilight. Scrambling backwards, Twilight looked left and right before picking up a book and tossing it.

She was gone before the book connected, returned to stand in the shallow dirt craters her targets left.

In the few seconds of her absence, the purple pony had gotten two armoured ones piled on top of her and rolled onto her back. She couldn't do much but flail and kick, and even then, they'd done what they could to keep her from getting leverage beneath them.

It did allow her to examine the purple pony and how she differed from those on top of her, from Twilight and that Sunny pony. She had no fur, and her eyes were bright crystals. There was also the seam around her neck, not just a black mark but one with a texture that occasionally opened up to reveal metal within. She slowly ceased flailing and turned to the black beast, eyes widening.

No words needed to be shared. She barrelled towards them, flying only a few inches off the ground, and smacked into the short pony tower. She tore up, one pony's scruff pinched in her fangs and the other held tight in her legs. A second later, she was in the library yet again. She released both bodies as she suddenly stopped, letting their inertia smash them against the ceiling.

A book smacked her in the face, and she whirled around with a hiss on the pony that threw it. Twilight stood on one of the library's upper levels, reared up on her hind legs. She held a stack of books in one foreleg, the other winding up to throw another tome. She wore a defiant scowl, but her eyebrows didn't carry the anger and fury within her, nor the emotions within.

She halted when two ponies' worth of black metal carapace and framing came to a wooshing halt inches from her.

"Is this what you're resorting to? I figured some creature capable of putting me together would have a better idea of taking me out than throwing books." She jabbed a leg at the growing pile of injuries in the middle of the room. "Do you want to join them?"

Twilight's expression faltered, and the book slipped from her hoof.

"That's what I thought." She smirked. "Got a name yet?"

"...Cosette?" Twilight looked and felt unsure.

Tilting her head, she floated an inch closer still, prompting Twilight to gulp, a lump running down her throat from jaw to collar.

"Too cute sounding," 'Cosette' said. "And too floral."

"What about Crackle?" Even less sure. Was Twilight grasping at straws?

'Crackle' scoffed and shook her head. "One more, then I'm giving up on you."

Another gulp and Twilight's eyes flicked around the room. That meant the name likely wouldn't mean all too much, but that might also be in her favour. It would distance her and Twilight enough that it ought to snuff out any familiarity between them. Twilight would have to build it all up again--or her, if she wanted to exert her will instead.

Then Twilight looked at the book at the top of the stack she held, one with a caterpillar and a butterfly, with some long, soggy-looking creature between them. "Chrysalis," Twilight finally blurted out.

It was a gross name for a gross creature, and Chrysalis loved it.

"I'm glad you think I can be beautiful one day," Chrysalis said. "But I'm quite happy being ugly for now. I'll leave the being cute to you." Chuckling, she punched the books from Twilight's other leg and sent the mare sprawling on the floor. "I'll be back with a few more. Once I'm done, don't expect me back for a while."

Chrysalis zipped off again, skidding in the dirt beside the purple pony. With her head down and jaw clenched, Chrysalis could imagine her hackles raised had she any fur. Two other ponies mirrored her, and all three were ready to rush at one another. Chrysalis couldn't tell who would be the first to charge, as the two ahead exuded fear, and the one beside her gave off no emotion whatsoever.

The one beside her started first, and the other two kicked off with a shout. Chrysalis joined, adding her wings for the same hovering trick and aiming for the one on the left. Despite Chrysalis bringing all her weight and inertia into the strike, trying to knock the wind out of her target and lift them off the ground, all she got was a grunt as the world stopped, like she collided with a solid wall. Except her momentum didn't stop there, as she flipped flank-over-teakettle before crashing face-first into the dirt and sod.

Upside down, she stared at the pony she held onto. Their back hooves were buried in the dirt, not having skid through it. They'd bent back with Chrysalis, certainly, but they'd controlled how the two landed, making sure Chrysalis came out worse.

Curious, Chrysalis rolled onto her side and pulled the pony with her. Though, rather than moving sideways, she rolled on the spot. The red-coated stallion that held her smirked, satisfaction and confidence replacing the fear and hatred that oozed out of him.

Chrysalis snapped the two of them to a point above the melee, the entire clearing looking quite small from the air. His bravado melted away to pure fright as he kicked and bicycled his legs in the air.

"Clever trick," she said, her voice low enough she sounded all the world like a cloud of flies that learned to speak. "Want to see mine?"

The stallion screamed as she drove him down into the dirt, and when he went silent, she deposited him with his comrades in the library.

The second she reappeared by the tower, they were in a two vs two. The yellow-coated pegasus and the facsimile of a mare were in a brawl, him using his flight and agility to wind around her, landing lucky jabs to her chest and head.

The other remaining contender had shaken the door off themselves at some point during the melee, and despite the bloodied nose, his eyes were crystal clear.

Chrysalis met his gaze and winked. He let loose a flurry of green, translucent missiles her way. Dodging them was easy enough, looping around them in a long, winding arc that she used to close the distance.

However, a translucent green bubble shoved her back as she came within grasping distance. She toppled in the air while the unicorn slid in the dirt, retaining his posture. She shook her head and frowned before teleporting around behind the pony.

Another bubble tossed her through one of the shack's windows, taking some of the wall with her and entirely collapsing the bed that softened her fall. Chrysalis kicked and flailed as she tried to stand, her limbs and body tangling up in the sheets and drapes. She tried taking a step forward, but the fabric was wound so tight that she couldn't do more than hop. They even snugly trapped her wing plates, keeping her from flying away.

The mage stepped into the doorway, flanked by a halo of emerald missiles that coalesced into a trio of small blades.

Chrysalis tried reaching for the wire again but was beaten to the punch by a blade striking her in the chest. She shut her eyes as it slid over the metal chassis, and a looseness around her front legs followed. It broke her concentration enough that she couldn't pull herself along that string of reality to safety, leaving her at the mercy of the other two blades as they sliced at her sides and back.

The smugness dissipated to confusion, then fear. When Chrysalis opened her eyes again, she revelled in the opened-mouth expression, the pinpricked eyes.

She then glanced down at herself, at the shorn-away fabric. She had taken damage, but it was slight, just a few gouges and grazes in her outer armour.

"Fascinating." Chrysalis chuckled. "I suppose that didn't go quite as you expected." She concentrated on the blades floating around her, their bright emerald glow turning a shade of sickly green as they whirled on their owner.

They launched forward, and the unicorn closed his eyes tight, whimpering like a foal. None of them connected, however, and instead disappeared into the forest. A few dull thunks sounded where they buried themselves in the trees, and Chrysalis let go of them.

When the unicorn opened his eyes again, Chrysalis pointed with a hoof. "Go fetch."

He whimpered while stumbling over himself as he galloped into the tree line.

Chrysalis tutted. "That's two for two. Are all these horned ones this pathetic?"

Emerging from the shack, Chrysalis looked to where she last saw the other two combatants. Unfortunately for her, the purple pony's head was in the dirt again, only with no weight atop her. The pegasus stood over her body, panting heavily. His helmet had been knocked free, his sweat-soaked blue man stuck to the side of his head, while the rest of his armour was dented and scuffed.

"That's a shame," said Chrysalis. The pegasus snapped his attention to her, his wings flaring out, ready to take off. "All that showing off, and all she manages is one and a half bodies? Pah." Chrysalis mirrored the pegasus, her translucent, energetic wings buzzing loudly. "I'll finish her work, but I don't think you'll be that satis--"

The hoof connected with her face, and she somersaulted through the air before rolling across the dirt. She slid to a stop, her legs pointed to the sky, and she blinked at the passing clouds. "I change my mind," she said, grinning.

Pushing herself forward, she used her wing plates to shove herself up and take off skyward. The pegasus quickly filled the space Chrysalis just left, then rose after her just as fast.

He rapidly gained on her. In seconds, he could grasp a leg or continue onward and punch her in the jaw. Chrysalis could take it, but she'd be off balance and disadvantaged no matter how mild it might be.

Thinking quickly, Chrysalis jumped backwards, like an unseen bungee cord yanked her through the space without colliding with the stallion. He continued for a few moments, slowing as his head whipped around, only to catch sight of Chrysalis the moment she smacked into him.

That ought to nullify his speed but also left them in an uncontrolled tumble in the air. They wrestled in their long arc, carrying them off to some unknown spot in the forest. She kicked, he punched, as limbs wrapped around limbs. Eventually, her fangs bit into the base of a wing and pulled.

A crack, a cry, and they fell through branches and landed in the dirt, tumbling in the underbrush. Chrysalis came to a sudden stop in the exposed roots of a tree, a loud creak matched with the loss of momentum, while the pegasus rolled to a halt yards ahead.

Buzzing her wings again, Chrysalis found herself stuck in the roots, gripping her torso and wing plates tightly. It took a little kicking and twisting before she was free again, but rather than flying up, she fell crumpled in the dirt.

She wasted no time hopping back to her hooves and glanced over her back. A badly dented wing plate trapped one of her wings beneath it, and save for some shuffling and sliding, it was in no position to give her any lift.

Tutting again, she slid her other wing-back. No sense in exposing both of them.

A laugh ahead of Chrysalis caught her attention, and when she turned back to the stallion, he was on his hooves again, albeit a little uneven. Despite the deep gouges, growing bruises, and the fact that he must know he was at a severe disadvantage even with Chrysalis' damage, fear and shame weren't his dominant emotions. Instead, she found... humour, bravery. There was even a little affection.

Chrysalis shuddered. She wasn't sure she wanted any sort of affection from him.

"Stay down, insect," she barked.

"I don't think I will." He laughed again, then winced as he roused his wings. "I'm not sure if I should be impressed or horrified that you just bested my squad. At least I proved you're not quite that indestructible."

"And you're very destructible." Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "You've got one chance to leave, or I'm burying you like the worm you are."

Another laugh, and he rolled his shoulders. Another wince, this time with a hiss. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm gonna take you up on that, depending."

Chrysalis snorted. "Depending on what? You're not exactly in the right place to bargain or make threats."

He cleared his throat and held his head high. "Did you hurt Twilight?"

Taking one step forward, Chrysalis growled but stopped before she took another. "No. She's in some library somewhere."

"Made of wood? Like the inside of a tree?"

"Yes."

The pegasus nodded, then turned. "Good. I think I'd have gotten myself killed if you answered differently." He grunted as she began his walk into the underbrush. "Adios. Next time, I'll try harder to kick your ass."

Chrysalis waited until the forest swallowed him, only the disgusting taste of his arrogance and a few loose feathers indicating he was there.

By Chrysalis' count, that ought to be everypony in armour bar one. If they weren't already asleep in the dirt, it would be easy to assume they had the sense to retreat as their presumed leader did.

Rather than teleport back, Chrysalis walked her way to the tower. She and the pegasus hadn't landed far away, and she could spot the battlements poking above the trees.

Things were quiet when she arrived, save for one mare in gold extricating herself from the dirt. With one glance at Chrysalis, she gasped and galloped off into the treeline in the same direction the unicorn did.

"I reckon I made quite a showing." Chrysalis chuckled and made her way to the tower proper, though she stopped when she stepped on something soft and lumpy. Glancing down, the purple pony lay in the dirt, her head separated from the rest of her body.

"Can you gloat somewhere that's not on top of me?" said the head.

Raising an eyebrow, Chrysalis reached down and picked the head up. Part of it was still attached to the body, dragging it along a little until something broke inside, and a chunk of articulated metal slipped out with it. "I did most of your work. I think I'm allowed to gloat."

The head rolled her eyes; though flat as they were, it was more of a rotational tilting.

Chrysalis hiked the head into the air, pointing it toward the shack--or the remains of it, anyway. It had totally collapsed on one side, and the other was well on its way to falling apart. It meant the trio of ponies climbing down the stairs had nowhere to hide, and the most forward of them clambered over the debris. Only she had any feelings coming from her, a cocktail that was hard to parse, though relief was perhaps the strongest emotion. She fixed Chrysalis with bright blue eyes, but it didn't feel like she was trying to intimidate. To study her, maybe?

"I believe this one might need your help, Sunny." Chrysalis tossed the head over, the rest of the bracing and a rounded, glowing, multi-ringed structure coming along with it. Sunny awkwardly caught it, bouncing the head between her hooves while she fell on her butt.

"Don't say it," said the head.

"That was stupid," said Sunny. "But at least your core is intact. We can work with that."

She looked up at Chrysalis, then deeply breathed in and out as she tucked the head under one foreleg. "Is anypony dead?"

Blinking, Chrysalis glanced around. No corpses, but why should it matter? She'd taken care of the problem either way. "Not that I'm aware of," she said after a pause.

"Good. Thank you." Sunny passed on the head to the blue pony behind her, whose look of concern grew into glee as she held it up.

"Alas, poor Aria, she couldn't quite get ahead." The mare giggled while the head growled.

"This wasn't quite how I hoped you'd turn on, but--"

"Turned on?" Chrysalis burst out laughing. "It was certainly exciting, but that's hardly how I'd describe it."

Sunny's face twisted in confusion for a second, then red tinted her cheeks beneath her fur, and she shook her head and raised a waving leg. "No! No, I meant when you activated. When you woke up. I'd have expected you to take some time to orient yourself for me to explain the situation, even if I had to do that while ponies bust our door in."

"Well, we got halfway there," said the head. "Or a quarter. The door was my fault."

Sunny shot a glare over her shoulder, and the head grinned. "Anyway," the mare continued, "at least you got your bearings quickly."

The orange pony behind Sunny stepped forward. "As much as I'd like to stand around and thank our little-big sister, I think we need to start planning on getting out of here. I don't want to have to go through all that stress again."

Sunny nodded. "Yeah. I doubt they'll give up because--"She blinked and looked up to Chrysalis. "What do I call you?"

Chrysalis pointed to herself and tried to flutter her eyes at Sunny. "Chrysalis," she answered.

With another blink, Sunny shared a few looks with the mare beside her, then craned her neck up at Chrysalis again. "I doubt they'll give up because you caught them by surprise. They know what they're dealing with, so they'll return in force."

Sunny glanced over her shoulder. "Sonata, Aria, do you remember where that old castle is?"

The head grinned, and its holder nodded enthusiastically.
> Intermission I - The Royal Train Carriage
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the train thundered down the side of Mount Avalon, Celestia’s charge watched the thick, dark clouds disappear behind the equally as far-off mountain range to the south.

The wheels click-clacked over the tracks, small bumps making the carriage moan and creak. With her head leaning against the window, she felt every vibration and wobble, heard every protest of metal and wood and all the joints between through her skull.

It was exciting to be outside of Canterlot for the first time in years. Of course, the palace’s vantage so far up the side of a mountain afforded it gorgeous views that carried on for miles. While everything east was blocked by the mountain, she saw cities connected by lines of smoke to the west and plentiful farmland to the north. The south always looked oddly barren as far as ponykind’s presence went, though it was still green and verdant, a widespread forest that disappeared into the horizon.

The Everfree Forest wasn’t as widespread as it supposedly once was. It once cut across much of the west but had been drawn back over time, first with more farmland, then eventually different forests of brick and concrete covered with a canopy of smog. She never wanted to head there and was glad she wasn’t, taking the train to a small town at the edge of the Everfree where civilisation met nature.

A section of uneven track rocked the charge upright, and she held herself there to avoid banging her head on the window.

She caught a glimpse of the passenger sitting opposite her, holding a cup and saucer in her golden magic so securely it looked as though the world within the carriage revolved around it. Once the ride settled somewhat, she took a sip of her tea. Usually, the mare opposite would be dressed in heavy, golden regalia, but like most days when she left for less official functions, she’d eschewed the near-armour for robes as white and pristine as her coat.

“I thought you’d be more talkative,” said Celestia. “Do you not have other questions you want to ask?”

Her charge smiled and rolled her eyes. “I am allowed to enjoy the scenery a little, I think.”

Celestia nodded. “True, but you get to see this plenty from the castle.” With another sip, she set the saucer and cup down, where it was quickly picked up by a grey mare dressed in a black jacket, her black mane held up in a tight bun.

The charge looked back at the window but not through it. Now that her attention had returned to the carriage, its reflection was more apparent. Like a microcosm of the palace, its garish fake pillars and pastel walls felt like tacky affectations. Golden filigree swirled in the skirting at the top and bottom, and if it weren’t for the apparent anchor points, she would have been surprised that the chair and tables stayed still at all.

She also got a look at herself, seeing a dimmed reflection she saw every single morning in the mirror. Faint blue-green eyes glittered the brightest, like ponds reflecting the moon in a dark forest. The rest of her coat and even her mane were too dark to make out, mostly acting as a negative space that contrasted with the brighter colours in the rest of the car.

“I am simply curious why now of all times,” said her charge. “I have so much I want to do in the palace, but you want to take me away elsewhere.”

Chuckling, Celestia shook her head. “Every single one of you just wants to stay inside the palace when there is so much to do and see beyond those stifling walls.” She looked to the grey mare for a moment, a few looks exchanged, and the mare made her way to one of the rooms at the far end of the carriage.

With that done, Celestia turned her attention to the window as well. At a glance, it seemed she was looking at the town to the south, a small pile of dots from that distance.

“I want you to actually experience the world a little. Get a taste of the world, of other ponies.” She held up a hoof as her charge drew a breath. “Ponies that aren’t staff or ministers of parliament. Books and my lessons can only go so far, and Ponyville is growing nicely, even if it isn’t at the front of any technological advancements. It’s a good place to be right now, so it’s the perfect place to take you.”

Celestia’s charge nodded. “That all makes sense, and I do not object to any of it. But my question remains.”

Celestia sat in silence, dragging it out long enough her charge deflated a little and followed her gaze outside.

The tracks ran a little east around the mountain, eventually losing sight of the valley they were headed to. East was where the rest of the mountain range was at its highest, though one of the flatter peaks was home to a sprawling city that climbed down its steep sides. Equestria was so large and vast that even from atop the home mountain, there wasn’t a hope of seeing any of the borders.

“Something is different, and I’m not sure I can put my hoof on why,” Celestia finally answered, her voice low and wandering. “With how much I’ve taught you, bringing you to Ponyville will be invaluable to me. My plans are to leave you there for a time once my business is concluded. With the building celebrations and everything afterwards, there will be plenty of things to do and plenty of ponies to talk to. Just do that and tell me what you learn.”

The grey mare returned, sliding some papers onto the desk in front of Celestia. One was emblazoned with a headline, “Mare Terrorises Village,” while the others were machine-copied type that immediately bored her charge the moment she tried reading them.

“That does not sound too hard.”

Celestia chuckled, holding up one of the boring pages. “Trust me, it is harder than you expect. Palace etiquette won’t have prepared you for interacting with the common pony. There is less to keep them from speaking their mind, which I quite like.”

The charge mulled that over. She thought being close to the Princess as she was would afford someone a great deal of honesty.

“There must be something specific you are looking for. If you told me, I could try and focus on that.”

Celestia shook her head. “No. No, I want you to use some initiative. You’re not the only pony working for me there, so if you don’t do quite as well as I’d hope, it’s not too much of a bother.”

With a wince, her charge pulled back from the window to stare at Celestia. “I will not let you down.”

“I know you won’t.” While Celestia’s smile was hidden by paperwork, their eyes met, the twinkle of satisfaction twinkling in Celestia’s gaze. “You and Twilight both meet and exceed my expectations every day.”

She smiled at that, then let her eyes focus back on the world outside of the window. She’d packed some books in a pack one of the guards had taken care of for her, stowing them in the luggage on the opposite end of the car, but she had no desire to take them out.

Eventually, they rotated around the northern edge of the mountain, then back around to the west. The trip took them low enough that by the time they were back in the valley, she couldn’t see Ponyville or the Everfree in the distance, just the rolling hills and smaller forests they had to pass in between.

She recalled some time, long ago, when she was last outside of the palace, outside of Canterlot itself, while under the strict supervision of Princess Celestia. The dates eluded her mind, unsure of when it possibly was. Likely, she was a young child when Celestia first took her as her charge.

The forests they passed through weren’t as thick as the one from her memory. Most forests in Equestria had been managed in recent years, and their underbrush was mostly picked clean to make more room for useful forage like mushrooms and berries. Instead, her memory featured an overgrown path leading away from another familiar location.

She liked to think it was some lesser-used home of Celestia’s. A hidden retreat built somewhere she had privacy, which she’d gracefully allowed her charge to enjoy before her memories could truly form.

After a while, the grassy hills gave way to increasingly more frequent fields spotted with farmhouses and barns. The occasional windmill also cropped up on the taller mounds, with plenty of rock-walled paths and roads between. The buildings grew gradually more frequent from there, the trees less so, until the train began to slow in the thickest growth of brick and plaster.

“We’re pulling into Ponyville now, Your Highness,” the grey mare said, yanking the charge from her reverie.

She’d expected a wall to announce that, like the one that encircled Canterlot. Then again, the town hadn’t much to worry about in the way of feudal invasions.  A wall wouldn't amount to much if a modern army arrived at that moment.

The train’s chugging slowed, and the carriage around them whined as the brakes brought the entire vehicle to a lurching stop. She only caught a few glances of Ponyville’s streets by the time they pulled into a station not too dissimilar to the one they’d departed from earlier that day.

There was shouting and activity on the station, a few barked orders and more soldiers in gold that passed by the carriage below. The charge rose in her seat to try and get a better look, only to be distracted by Celestia’s impressive form rising from her seat.

“Let’s get going,” Celestia said. “I’m sure Twilight is already waiting for us and has somewhere picked out for us to stay.” She chuckled. “I do hope it’s somewhere similar to last time. I do wonder how the Cake’s descendants are doing nowadays.”

After two guards cleared a space on the station ahead of them, Celestia clambered out of the back of the carriage and onto the station floor. Her charge followed after, her head held high as a member of her household should, though there weren’t any ponies aside from guards on the station.

“Odd,” Celestia said. “I’d have thought Twilight would allow at least a few of the local officials in.”

Celestia started off, and the guards ahead and behind moved as though they knew exactly when and where she would move. Her charge had to stumble to follow, but she managed. They weren’t headed for the street, however. Instead, they walked the breadth of the platform until reaching what was assumedly a ticket office. The door opened, and Celestia stepped inside.

When her charge entered, she was surprised to see a frazzled Twilight Sparkle waiting for them, wringing her hooves.

“Twilight?” Celestia asked. “What is going on?”

Sparing but the briefest of glances at Celestia’s charge, Twilight spoke. “There’s another golemancer here.”
> 11 - Sunset
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

To say Sunset was exhausted would be stating the obvious. Her legs moved sluggishly, but she dragged them along with every step through the castle halls.

That was what Sonata and Aria had found. An entire castle in disrepair, not having been touched in an awfully long time. While Sunset had no real experience with architectural history, it looked similar to her tower, larger, more extensive. It was clearly built for more than a hoofful of lookouts.

She pinned a piece of worn parchment to the wall with a hoof of technical drawings on the back. The side facing her had various square shapes that she labelled with shakey pencil scratches. While her body was dead tired, her mind hadn’t gotten the memo, so she needed something to do, and that something became exploration and labelling.

There wasn’t much to the outer walls other than a series of multi-level corridors and towers built the same as hers. Sunset marked off the breaks to be shored up, maybe restack the stones or bury them in some makeshift palisades with the help of the others. For everywhere else, she wrote down what she thought the rooms would be best used for: bedrooms, kitchen and pantry, storage. The old spaces probably had specific uses in whatever age the castle originated from, but they weren’t relevant anymore.

Sonata’s room was the latest scribble on her little map, and the restless pony behind her slowly spun in circles in the empty space.

It had a few narrow windows directed north, letting in the waning twilight. They didn’t see much other than the worn outer wall and the myriad of trees, both the few within the walls and the many beyond. A few old shelves, barely stable, jut out of the wall nearest the door, and Sonata had dragged up an old table from the basement, which looked remarkably good.

“A whole room for me,” she muttered for the third time in a row.

With a chuckle, Sunset tucked her pencil and the parchment back into her jacket with her teeth. “Do what you want with it. I figure you guys will appreciate it.”

“You’re going to encourage her to hoard with that, you know,” Aria said. Or her head, at least, from atop Sonata’s back. “Why’s it so big, anyway.”

The thought had crossed Sunset’s mind, but the stay was likely temporary, truth be told. They’d quickly gathered up as much as possible and loaded it onto a cart before rolling it out to the castle. Sunset had left Adagio and Chrysalis to unload downstairs while she explored with Sonata, letting her previous guide Sunset, limited as it was.

She blew a raspberry at Aria, dismissively waving a hoof. “Naw, it’s fine. It’s her space, anyway. I don’t really care what she fills with it. The same goes for you.” She stepped back momentarily and grabbed Sonata with a leg, then dragged her out the doorless entryway and across the hall to another room. It was mostly identical, except for the windows with shutters attached. Only one was open, leaving the room even darker and dimmer than Sonata’s. “This one is yours. Once you get patched up, it puts you right next door to Sonata, so you can keep an eye on her.”

Aria’s head looked around the room, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. “…I guess I’m okay with it then. If I hear scraping, I can better tell Sonata to quit dragging in whatever heavy crap she has.”

Sonata whined and turned to face Aria. “I haven’t done anything like that yet! Where is that coming from?”

If Aria had shoulders, Sunset was sure she’d shrug them. “Eh, it’s just a feeling.”

Sunset shook her head as she walked back out. “I’m going to check on Adagio and Chrysalis.”

As she made her way to the circular stairs that marked the opposite corners of the castle, Sunset looked over the map she had drawn. The bottom floor had the most notes scrawled around it, with the largest room indicating the entrance to the old lab Sonata discovered when she was last there.

There wasn’t much to glean from the lab other than serving as physical proof that she wasn’t the first to study golemancy. Heck, Twilight’s experience and work proved that too.

What astounded Sunset was just how old the space was. Remarkably few notes had survived the years, and the few she could find were illegible, faded by time and written in a script she only vaguely recognised as pre-dating modern writing.

Coming down the stairs, Sunset folded the map and held a hoof to her head. She could probably find something or someone to help her decipher what they say, but there were more important things to think about.

A thump and a clatter drew Sunset’s attention to the old throne room, and she picked up her pace. Adagio and Chrysalis’s voices echoed around her as she stepped in, making Sunset wince.

“Don’t just drop it on me!” Adagio drew her lips back in a snarl aimed at Chrysalis, whose expression appeared mostly disinterested save for the squint in her eyes. She looked like a skeleton given life that walked out of the fires of Tartarus, and catching glimpses of her work at the old tower made some of Sunset believe that was the case.

A torn sack of parts lay between them, gems and metal pieces and even a few tools strewn about Adagio’s feet. At least some of them appeared to be damaged, including a small hammer whose head had flown off its handle.

“You’re the one more familiar with what she wants where,” said Chrysalis. “I was merely passing it over for you to sort.”

“What makes you think I know what goes where any more than you do?” Adagio stamped a hoof. “I was here first, certainly, but all of this sciency stuff is below me. Besides, I need a warning before you just drop it. What if I was in the middle of something?”

Despite the lack of muscles and skin, Sunset swore Chrysalis smirked. “You weren’t. I checked. Wouldn’t want you to break yourself and Sunny’s toys, hm?”

“Listen here, you overgrown fre—“

“Stop!”

Sunset’s shout drowned out whatever string of insults Adagio was about to say, getting both the golems’ attention. Adagio turned to face Sunset, though Chrysalis moved little more than her eyes, tilting the flat, featureless discs Sunset’s way.

“Can you tell her not to be obnoxious?” Adagio pointed at Chrysalis with a hoof.

“Funny, I was going to say the same thing.”

Adagio whipped her head around to growl at Chrysalis as that smirk spread into a grin.

“I really don’t care. You’re both being obnoxious.” Sunset shut her eyes. “Just… get everything else in here, and I will sort out what goes where. I’ll get Sonata to help.” When she opened her eyes again, Adagio had once more torn her ire from Chrysalis.

“…Fine.” Adagio glared up at Chrysalis again before stepping past Sunset toward the front door.

“I cannot believe you put up with her,” said Chrysalis after a few moments of silence.

“She’s irritating, I’ll give you that.” Sunset nodded, gestured with a hoof at Chrysalis, and spun about to leave the new lab. “But I also put her together. I feel a responsibility for her and… Well…” Sunset laughed, making sure to keep it a little quiet. “She cares about me and her sisters. I get the feeling if I ask her directly, she’ll give some pragmatic answer, but she cares. Plus, she is helpful at keeping the place tidy.”

“So she is as soft and squishy as the rest of you ponies, then.” Chrysalis hummed, the noise coming through more like an electric whine than a muffled voice.

“Maybe. I think that’s a good thing, though. It proves I did something right.”

They turned as they stepped outside, passing the cart tucked up against the wall where Adagio took another sack onto her back. A few more crates were tucked toward the back, which had primarily been Chrysalis’ job.

Sunset pointed to one and said, “Take the one on the left, please.”

Without a word, Chrysalis’ horn lit up that sickly green, heaving up the heavy crate like a feather and carrying it through behind Adagio.

“Then you made me. Odd choice, hm? Putting together something tough as steel and ready to fight?”

Sunset eyed up the dent on Chrysalis’ back. “Not quite as tough as I’d have liked, but I was short on time and resources.”

Squinting, Chrysalis hummed again. “Indeed.” The three stepped into the lab again, though the name wasn’t quite right yet.

In their haste to leave the tower, Sunset and the others only grabbed some of her possessions, mostly everything that was already packaged or that Sunset could shove into her coat pockets. That included the broken metal table set on top of two crates. The tables from below served to be at least a little practical and were shoved into the corners while much of everything else had been pushed into a corner or against a wall. Adagio and Chrysalis added to the growing piles, setting their respective containers down with more muffled clattering as their contents settled.

Sunset touched Adagio’s shoulder, getting her attention. “Go upstairs, be with the others. Chrysalis and I will sort out everything else.”

For a moment, Adagio looked like she was going to argue, but after a glance at Chrysalis and her blackened metal frame, she nodded and silently left for the stairs.

“You can’t carry half as much as she can,” Chrysalis said.

Sunset chuckled in response. “Didn’t you say she was soft and squishy?”

With a harumph, Chrysalis turned exit again, likely to retrieve the last crate, but Sunset reached for a back leg. Chrysalis turned back, her head tilted. “What?”

“It’s not necessary for a while, but… I need to do something. Let me look at you and what needs fixing.”

Chrysalis blinked, then stepped over to the dais at one end of the room where she sat. A few more crates and boxes were set up at the back, a reminder of the hole leading to the basement and to deter Sonata—and Sunset, really—from accidentally falling down the stairs.

Sunset retrieved a rubber hammer from one of her inside pockets and took place next to Chrysalis. “Can you try extending the plate?”

“It is extended,” Chrysalis said. The plate in question looked like it was still very much shut, save for the dent, but as Sunset looked closer, she realised the metal had rolled over the hinge somewhat.

Wincing, Sunset put two hooves in the minuscule gap the dent made. “I’m not sure this will hurt, but it might.”

“Considering I hardly felt it when it broke, I’d be surprised if you do anything!”

Chrysalis arched her back as Sunset pushed the plate out. She didn’t bend it as much as she’d like, but she managed to open the hinge more until it stopped, giving her a little more leverage. The metal creaked in protest, especially when she brought a hind leg in, though eventually, the rounded plate was mostly angled how it should be, albeit far more open than Chrysalis’ expression implied.

“Close it halfway,” Sunset ordered. With a grumble, Chrysalis complied.

Once it was back in a more natural position, Sunset applied a few whacks with the mallet in mouth, banging the hinge first to ensure it was secure. She then climbed onto Chrysalis’ back, where she could better smack the inside of the plate, knocking the dent out little by little.

The two sat in silence, aside from Sunset’s work. Bang, bang, rattling up through her teeth and jaw, shaking her head. It made Sunset’s scalp buzz, the base of her horn tingle. Every smack remained awkward, a motion she guessed at rather than the precision she could get if she still had her magic.

She thought of solutions, but asking anyone who knew how the mechanism around her horn worked would be complicated. Perhaps Rarity could have a go, but that proposed the same problem, primarily since she and Sunset were known accomplices. Hopefully, the lack of knowledge the mare had spared her any punishment, but it also meant Sunset would find it difficult to return to her for further help.

It took a while for Sunset to finish, but she got there as the metal audibly popped back into place. One more good smack ensured the remaining creases were minimised, though traces of the damage remained.

She stepped back and spat the hammer on the floor, admiring her work. Chrysalis did the same after a few moments, realising that Sunset had ceased smacking her side.

“…It doesn’t look finished,” Chrysalis said. “But… Battle scars are becoming of a beast such as I.”

“I’d rather get it perfect.” Sunset walked back in front of Chrysalis and sat on the floor. “Though you are perfectly imperfect. Offcuts, old parts, some dents and scratches…”

“You’re saying I look scary?” The tongue Sunset put together out of an old spinal piece slipped out, licking Chrysalis’ teeth. She hummed again, the sound rising from deep and low within Chrysalis’ chassis. “I am glad to hear it.”

“In a way, yes. I’m irritated I couldn’t make you under better circumstances, but I’m happy with how you turned out.” Sunset beamed, though her smile quickly faltered. “I do want to make some improvements, but as things are, that is going to have to wait. I have so, so many things I have to do over the next day or two.”

Chrysalis looked up for a second. “Watch out for the shiny soldiers and my mother. Fix up the idiot who got a little too far ahead—” Somehow, Chrysalis snorted “—and the one with the exposed back. Organise your new home, shore up defences, see what’s missing…”

Sunset blinked as Chrysalis trailed off.

“You’ve been muttering a lot the past few hours. I’d ask if everything is alright, but clearly, it’s not. Not that I care much other than keeping one of the two ponies who can take care of me safe.”

Chrysalis’ horn shone, and Sunset was dragged across the floor and tucked between the giant golem’s legs. She was tall enough that there was space for Sunset to potentially stand, though Chrysalis ensured Sunset didn’t get the opportunity as she lowered herself down.

They both collapsed to the floor, Sunset pinned where she lay by Chrysalis’ sheer size and weight. Her lack of padding meant her chassis dug into Sunset uncomfortably, mostly around her butt, but a leg over Sunset’s shoulders also pinched the skin by one of her shoulder blades.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Chrysalis chuckled, the sound vibrating through her body and into Sunset. “I like how you feel. Soft and squishy. It makes me want to squeeze you until you pop, but I won’t. Not yet.”

Grumpily, Sunset blew her mane from her face and squirmed however she could. She was primarily limited to banging her front hooves on the floor. “I have things I need to do now, Chrysalis.”

“Relax for just a little while, Sunny. I seem to recall you like that, though the memory isn’t mine.” Chrysalis stuck out her tongue and mimicked a retching sound. “All those bubbly thoughts in the back of my mind. How does that other one even operate feeling so positive and cheerful.”

Sunset slowed down, but she didn’t give up. Eventually, a back foot found purchase on a step. She needed to get up to continue working. She couldn’t just lay there.

“I did want to ask you something.” As if sensing Sunset’s point of leverage, Chrysalis shuffled over a little, pinning the leg in place. “You and Twilight have horns. So do I, and there were one or two like you at the tower. They all lifted stuff, but I haven’t seen you do it once.”

There, Sunset stilled herself. She could see Chrysalis’ horn in the corner of her eye.

That was one other option she could take to free herself from the nullifier. Chrysalis had the means, but that posed a danger. If she didn’t have the dexterity, it could hurt Sunset, maybe even damage her horn.

“It’s a complicated story. I’d rather get on with work than explain it—“

“You’re not going anywhere soon, Sunner. Tell me the story.” Chrysalis’ long neck allowed her to turn around and half-face Sunset. “Or shall I figure it out?”

The giggle that rose through Chrysalis didn’t fit her voice or body. It was almost like a tiny bit of Sonata bled through, which made Sunset shiver. “Oh, I have some ideas. I do believe most of them have something to do with this.”

Searing pain entered Sunset’s mind as something pulled on the top of her head. She flailed a hoof, putting it to the side of her horn and feeling around the ring. “S-stop!”

Chrysalis' horn was doused, and she tilted her head. “That doesn’t want to come off, it seems.” She hummed. “Like it was made to stay there. That is what’s keeping you from levitating things around.”

Weakly, Sunset nodded.

“I’m guessing just ripping it off isn’t an option.”

Sunset shook her head. “It has some delicate mechanisms that keep it in place. They’re complicated to explain, and…” She swallowed.

“You don’t think I can fiddle with them, do you?”

Sunset shook her head again. “No offence, but you’ve just been made.”

“None taken.” The sneer Chrysalis gave seemed oddly jovial. “But I believe you will work better with that off. Then you can do whatever else it is that needs doing and work on me. So, I have a proposition.”

Chrysalis leaned down a little more. Her neck shouldn’t have been able to bend the way it did, Sunset knew, but she did anyway like the metal was malleable. “If you stay still and let me cuddle you for the evening, you can explain how it works. It’ll be boring and bring me close to tears, but I am willing to put up with it until you either shut down from a lack of energy or until it’s off.”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Sunset glanced around the room. So many things needed organising or put away, including various items on the floor. It would take Sunset forever to organise stuff by hoof, likely about as long after she stopped Chrysalis and Adagio bickering.

It would also help even the game between Sunset and Twilight again.

“Fine,” Sunset said after a few minutes. “B-but no nibbling.”

“Oh, Sunny.” Chrysalis practically purred, the edges of fangs grazing one of Sunset’s ears. “I can make no such promises.”
> 12 - Sonata
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sonata lived in a castle.

While it was only for the past day, that fact alone probably would have excited most fillies. Castles were where princesses lived, and while Sonata had little knowledge of current Equestrian politics, barely holding the name Celestia in her head from the few times Sunset mentioned her, she didn’t care much for that.

She did get the idea that castles were also where clever scientists and their experiments resided, though she had no clue where she got that notion.

Still, it made sense that she should live in a castle. She even had an entire room to herself, which she had taken to prettying up as best she could.

She had no paint. Sunset prioritised leaving any pigments or dyes at the old tower. Their containers were heavy and messy, and she’d stressed they weren’t vital to Sonata when she brought them up.

What she did have was an assortment of small containers and some planks of wood she’d stripped off the sides of the cart to act as shelves. Little pieces she found interesting to look at or figured she might have some use adorned each shelf as if she was displaying them for potential guests.

Unfortunately, the only other individual who had the privilege to enjoy Sonata’s collection was Aria’s disembodied head.

Her body was downstairs, somewhere. Sunset promised to look over it, try and fix it back up, good as new. In the meantime, Sonata had taken up the role of Aria’s caretaker. She was good at that, making sure Aria wasn’t too bored. She got loud when bored, grunting and moaning, unable to fidget or wander.

However, She made Sonata feel a little self-conscious with her new little idea. Having her sister stare down at her from on high as she worked through her thoughts led to feeling judged. Which, honestly, she probably was.

See, Sonata had decided she wanted to be more like Sunset. Watching her creator breathe new life into yet another being, especially one as cool and badass as Chrysalis? It inspired her. She wanted to do the same, even if on a smaller scale.

“Do I want to know what you’re doing?” Aria asked. She couldn’t move, not without the systems of pistons and crystal-powered joints, so she could only stare down her muzzle at the tattered cloth and metal parts spread across the floor. It didn’t help with the judgemental look, though Aria likely would have held that expression anyway.

“Making a surprise.” Sonata moved metal rods and plates with her hooves, one at a time. They slid over the linen, grease or rust, leaving black-brown stains in their wake. Each piece ranged from as long as half her leg to less than her snout, a random assortment of parts like Chrysalis.

Her answer didn’t seem to please Aria, though there wasn’t anything she could really do to improve that. It was a surprise, after all, even to Sonata herself.

Each piece in front of her was part of a puzzle she didn’t know the whole shape of, and she needed to figure out how they all fit. Plenty of approaches filled her mind, different forms she could make, layouts she could try. She had no idea if any of them would even work. She could ask Sunset, run the ideas by her.

But Sonata wanted to experiment by herself. She’d done so to her own body and still had the gap in her midsection to prove it.

Symmetry seemed the best thing to try at first, to see if she could split the jumble into two equal halves that looked roughly the same.

Several round plates made up the core, an amassed grey blob of metal that felt vaguely spider-like, then made all the worse by several long pieces that spoked out from the centre like eight long legs. Sonata snapped a few in the middle, adding what might amount to joints in the midpoints. Tipped on the end were various screws and rods and thicker slivers of metal that accumulated at the bottom of some of the crates, arranged in mismatched pairs or trios.

Then, using some spare copper wire, Sonata laid out strips along each of the ‘legs’, adding little loops in each joint.

She added slivers of gems to the loops, taken from their new basement and broken under her hoof.

Nothing stuck together, but why would it? She hadn’t anything to weld with or any glue. It looked fine, laid down as it was, but it needed some shape and definition.

Sonata looked up at Aria, and Aria grunted back at her.

“What?”

“Thinking.”

Sonata stared at Aria’s core. The red-pink gem inside pulsated, waxing and waning like a breathing star held inside a series of slowly spinning rings.

Sunset called it an armillary. Apparently, they were used as teaching and measuring tools when talking about planets and stars, not for whatever Sunset had put inside their chests. She just felt the name was appropriate.

Then she meandered on through a one-sided conversation, talking about new life, a new world, blah blah blah. Sonata tuned most of it out.

By Sonata’s guess, Aria’s core was about the same size as the smaller plates, where they curled up into a rough ball shape. The top would be open, but perhaps…

The thought barely formed in her head by the time she was up on her hooves and handling Aria’s head and core in her forelegs. Aria protested, but Sonata didn’t listen to her. She was too focused on setting both head and core on the floor, then placing the spinning sphere onto the plates.

For one glorious second, Aria’s bitching stopped dead, and her eyes opened wide.

“What the f—“

“It works!”

A surge of energy fired through the wires, turning them red, hot and soft, though the power within them dissipated as the shattered gems lit up. They pulsed with Aria’s core, and bit by bit, the pieces tensed up, pulling themselves together.

The middle plates curled upward, cupping Aria’s core in a gentle but firm embrace. Each leg curled up, then down, lifting the middle off the floor before staggering. It took a few moments before the skittering thing steadied itself.

One leg rose, reached for Aria’s face, and touched her cheek.

“…That feels super weird. What did you do?”

Sonata was ecstatic. Her face split in an exuberant grin, and she clapped her hooves together in front of her. “I did an experiment, and it worked!”

Giggling, Sonata hopped back up again, then trotted tight circles around Aria. It let her get a lot of different angles to examine the little body she’d constructed, and she watched as Aria pulled her head atop it, slipping the two front legs into the silicone where the cord to her core left her neck.

It took a few moments of tilting her head one way, then another, but eventually, Aria found a happy point to balance at. Aside from the roundness of her ‘body’, she looked at least a little like she had a tiny pony chassis. The only real problem Sonata could think of was Aria looked oddly balanced. Pulling her head back over her mid-point, she seemed to find a good place to rest, yet even then she seemed as though a small push would throw her onto her side.

There was also the fact she looked vaguely spider-like in appearance, but Sonata thought spiders looked cool.

“…Thanks.” Though quiet and cool, the little smile tugging at the corner of Aria’s mouth spoke of genuine gratefulness.

Sonata screamed, and she scooped up Aria onto her back before taking off down the hall, then the stairs. She just had to show Adagio and Sunset. She was sure even Chrysalis would be impressed.

#

Adagio glared at Aria, held aloft before her in Sonata’s hooves. She was on her way out of the main keep when Sonata ambushed her, blocking her path while repeating, “I made something!” over and over and over.

“…What did she do, Aria?”

The little body shifted in what might be a shrug, then tried wriggling out of Sonata’s grip. “I’m not even going to pretend to understand what she did.” Sonata kept adjusting her hooves, holding Aria up and then trying to pinch two of her legs to keep moving. One of the other two then jabbed down to the side, which Sonata understood meant, ‘Put me down’.

She acquiesced and gently deposited Aria onto the floor. She scuttled off to one side with a series of little tinks and craned her head up. “Is this what it’s like for Sunset?”

“Why is it so small? And so creepy?” Adagio shuddered. While unnecessary, it made Sonata giggle.

“I didn’t want to take too much from Sunset, and I’m just practising.”

Adagio hummed. “So you could make something bigger? Something more complex?”

Sonata shrugged, then lowered herself to the ground to peer underneath Aria. “Maybe! I don’t know if I just got lucky here, though, and I’m pretty sure there’s things that need fixing, but I don’t know what.” She stared at each of the legs in contact with the ground. Due to the simplified parts of the new miniature chassis, each leg ended in a narrow line, the corners of which Aria balanced. While Aria looked unsteady, slowly moving her weight to one side or the other, she managed to stay upright. Sonata considered that a win.

Usually, when Sonata was lost in her thoughts, she failed to notice how much time passed. She couldn’t tell anyone how long she had been in the forest or down the ravine, how long their visit to Ponyville was…

But she could tell it had been far too long since Adagio last said anything. She had expected more witty remarks or for her to excuse herself.

When Sonata looked back up, Adagio had a hoof to her chin while she looked down at the floor. Her eyes flickered side to side, not at either of her sisters but at some unspecified point on the ground.

“’Dagi?” Sonata asked.

Adagio snapped her head up. “Follow me,” she simply said. “We need to talk.”

Sonata and Aria looked at each other for a second, then back at Adagio. Sonata nodded and stood back up, prompting Adagio to continue walking out.

As Sonata followed behind, Aria’s clattering picked up and then dropped off, replaced with the odd sensation of a series of pointy limbs clambering up her backside.

Sonata knew better than to ask what was on Adagio’s mind until they arrived wherever it was she was taking them, though given she turned away from the main gate once they were outside, it was unlikely they would travel far.

Adagio wore a dour mask with thinned lips and cross eyes. That almost seemed normal, but an unseen tenseness lay underneath. Some feeling or thought Sonata could only feel but not know for herself.

After meandering through some collapsed stonework and the errant few trees that grew inside the castle’s grounds, Adagio came to a halt and turned around.

“I’ll keep this short: We need you to practice more and get better at the whole golemancy thing.”

Sonata blinked a few times. That sounded a lot like approval! “Sure! I was going to anyway. It’s the most fun thing I’ve tried so far, so unless I find something else I like more, I’ll probably get very good at it.”

“I don’t think you quite understand,” Adagio said with a shake of her head. “We need you to focus on it. Learn as much as you can, practice making or repairing more stuff. Talk to Sunset more and more. Learn to read so you can go through Sunset’s books.”

Aria snorted. “I’m not so sure about that last one.”

“I am. She needs to learn. We all do.”

“I guess I can do that, too,” Sonata said, uncertainty quavering in her voice. She didn’t fancy her chances at actually deciphering the squiggles in Sunset’s books, but she could probably convince Sunset to help her.

All that did raise a question, however.

“Why?”

“It’s because of Chrysalis, ain’t it.” Aria clung to Sonata’s shoulder, leaning forward to properly insert herself into the conversation. Sonata fought the urge to jerk her head around, or she might send Aria flying.

“I thought that was obvious.” Adagio sighed. “Let’s not kid ourselves. She is nothing but an improvement over us. You lost taking on two of those ponies that came for us—“

“I handled myself against four back in Ponyville!”

The daggers Adagio glared at Aria sent a shiver through Sonata’s metal bones. “Your body is made of spare parts and barely the size of your head. She faced down all the rest and came out dented at worst. We need a new advantage so we can be useful again.”

“We are useful!” Sonata protested. “We all helped get stuff over here. Besides, we can still cuddle with her. I’m sure she finds that useful, too.”

After glueing Sonata with an uncertain look, Adagio shook her head. “I’m sure she has other things on her mind. Just… Make sure you do as I say. Do you understand?”

Sonata nodded.

“Good. I think whatever you’ve done to Aria and yourself already helps you. Hopefully, she can tear herself from Chrysalis’ side long enough. Speaking of…” Adagio leaned over to one side, looking past Sonata. Following her gaze led to Chrysalis making her way through the castle grounds, far behind them, though as she noticed the others, she came to a halt mid-stride.

“Go speak to Sunset,” said Adagio, pitching her voice low. “I’m going for a walk.”

Adagio strode past Sunset, then further around the castle to put it between her and Chrysalis.

“Where?” Sonata asked. She reached out a hoof to Adagio, who just jerked her head in the vague direction of Chrysalis.

“Wherever she isn’t.”

With the conversation effectively over, Sonata settled her hoof back down and watched Adagio climb up over the rubble to continue her procession around the inner walls.

Looking back the way they came, Chrysalis continued staring at Sonata and Aria for a moment. Despite the glimmer in her eyes, they seemed a little duller than her other siblings and colder. Her core was a little brighter, but it felt more like a lamp down a corridor where it shone through her ribs rather than the soft translucence the others shared.

Chrysalis first broke the impromptu staring contest to regard the outer wall before her, then flicked out her wings and leapt onto it. The upper level was wide enough that Chrysalis disappeared, wandering to the parapets that overlooked the forest.

“Is Adagio scared of her?” asked Sonata, half-turning her head toward Aria. She started toward the keep’s entrance again, taking the same snaking path around pitfalls, trees, and rubble.

Aria pitched her voice quiet and low. “I’m a little scared of her, honestly.” She gave out a short laugh. “Which makes me think ‘Dagi has a point, even if she’s making too big a deal of it.”

“Do you think Chrysalis wants to hurt us?”

That got a snort from Aria. “Nah. Not unless we do something to Sunset, I think, which might explain ‘Dagi’s mood a little. You saw how she was acting when we were chased back.”

“I guess you’re right.” Sonata shrugged as they turned into the main entryway, Sonata’s hooves echoing off the hard stone. “I don’t think Chrysalis is bad. She’s just a little creepy. We see lots of bugs, and they’re all creepy, but none of them have hurt us so far.”

One of Aria’s little legs thumped the back of Sonata’s head. “You keep thinking like that, dumbass.” She smiled a small, lopsided, toothy grin. “One of us needs to.”

“I’m not a dumbass!”

Sonata’s words echoed off the walls around her, catching her attention in time before she bumped into the makeshift table in the centre of Sunset’s lab. She paused, looking over the headless body and tools around it, with Sunset carefully working something into its neck.

There was definitely something creepy about a body without a head. No identity, no marks to make it any one pony’s, and given none of the trio even had cutie marks, it made the lifeless metal and rubber even more anonymous.

She wondered idly if she could swap bodies with Aria. It made some sense that they’d be made from similar parts, especially as they came to life around the same time.

“Sunny?” Sonata tilted her head and reached out to the table, giving the body a slight nudge. Sunset responded with a start, suddenly straightening herself up and dropping the tool from her mouth and onto the table. The golden ring around her horn shimmered in the light, though there appeared to be some new scratches in its sides.

“Sonata? What—“ Sunset blinked and stared at Aria hanging off Sonata’s shoulder. “What, ah, what can I help you with?”

For reasons Sonata couldn’t place, she felt wrong about asking the question on her mind. It was as if it being Adagio’s suggestion made it inappropriate to ask. “I was wondering, um. Could you teach me more about this?” She poked Aria’s body again, the only energy it felt for the past day making it wobble ever so slightly.

Sunset smiled, though it was thin-lipped. “About what? Aria’s body?” She chuckled. “I’m not sure how much I can teach you that you’ll actually understand. I think you got lucky with your back…” She blinked, then switched her attention to Aria again. “Hang on, what’s up with her?”

“Oh!” Sonata beamed and reached for Aria. The little shout Aria gave did little to deter Sonata as she picked her up and placed her on the table beside her body. “I fixed her! Sort of.”

Sunset stared at Aria, unmoving, for a long few seconds. “…How?”

“I’m not sure!” She pocked at the back of Aria’s little body, making the odd spider-shape teeter forward. “I used some parts I thought you might not want or need and just… tried putting something together. I think it’s stuck to her now, but she can move around on her own, and isn’t it so cool?”

The fur on Sunset’s neck stood on end, fluffing her out a little. “Reckless is more like it. You did this? You can’t know how to power her down, right?” A disbelieving laugh popped out of Sunset’s mouth. “You could have shorted her, or melted the suspending rings together, or…”

Sunset then dropped her head low, looking underneath Aria’s body. Her eyes flickered from side to side, following something, and that something became clear as Aria lifted a limb to scratch at her head.

“You have control of each leg. There’s no way she programmed that in. And there’s more going into your neck…” Sunset straightened herself again and squinted at Aria. “Can you… Can you stretch every limb, including the two holding your head?

Aria quickly glanced at Sonata, then shrugged and did as she was told. Every leg on her arachnid-like body stretched out, and she lifted her head above her, disconnected from the thickest part of her little body except for the limbs and chord.

Tools scattered to the floor as Sunset blindly reached for her notebook, then scribbled into it with a pencil between her teeth. She never looked away from Aria once, nor did she blink. Once she wrote what she wanted, with a quick glance at the page to cringe, she spoke again.

“Do you think you can climb into your body? The inner silicone is damaged and torn, so it’s not like you’ll make anything worse. I just need to see if this works how I expect it to.”

“That might be a tight squeeze.” Aria snickered, but as she took a breath to say more, Sunset’s stare turned sour, frowning at the little bot.

“Get into the neck, got it.”

Aria lowered her head so it could sit flat on her body, but Sunset held out a hoof and shook her head. “No, keep that extended. Get the rest of… you in there.”

After another pause, Aria nodded, then slowly made her way to her old chassis. She probed at the neck, pulling it open like a sleeve. The material that made up their skin was the same through and through, with just a paper-thin, hardened layer that made up the outside. As Aria pushed her legs in, one at a time, the slightly tacky inner material tugged at her, sticking and sliding.

“Gosh, that’s gross…”

Sonata didn’t think so. She thought it was fascinating. She’d love to see more, but she didn’t know what she could mess with or take apart without damaging her sister. She wouldn’t want to ruin Aria’s body, anyway, not any more than it was.

Once most of Aria’s legs made their way inside, the core followed while she lay her head on the table. “I’m kind of feeling around blind in here. Not got much touch to work with. Feels like my legs are miles away.”

“Little touch, or none at all?” Sunset asked. She lifted her coat and pulled out the flashlight with her teeth. It clinked against her jaw as she turned it around and switched it on, shining it into Aria’s torso.

That didn’t reveal much, but Sonata could make out a little inside. Mostly where the metal sort of was, but she could see the faintest blur that was probably Aria’s little legs dragging herself in.

A clink, a zap, and a shudder across the body startled the three of them, and Sunset and Sonata shared a look before simultaneously turning to Aria.

She had a clenched jaw, but her eyes were focused, falling onto the two ponies looming over her. “That hurt!”

“I think you made contact with the circuit. Somehow.” She fell silent and tilted her head. “No humming or buzzing, so either you’re not in contact, or you haven’t shorted the other crystals.” Sunset chuckled and danced on the spot. “Ooh, new functionality and limiting parameters are exciting.”

“Yeah, cool, whatever.” Aria glared at Sunset, then pulled her head to her old neck by bending her little legs in. “What do I do now?”

“You said you can’t feel a lot. Can you feel anything?”

Aria nodded. “I’m kind of hooked on a few hard things. Why?”

Sunset drew a straight line across her shoulders with a hoof, cutting across her chest. “There should be some bars here if that helps. Try and get two legs around those and two legs along the back ribs.”

Aria furrowed her brow but said nothing. Her head moved down again while the bulge of the core travelled into her torso. She grunted and hissed along, and right as her head sat flush with her neck, the entire body flinched from neck to tail. One of the front legs missed Sunset’s head, who backed away enough to avoid its companion falling off the table.

“Aria!” Sonata clambered over the table, the metal slab shuffling over the boxes and nearly sliding out from under her. On the far side, crumpled on the floor, Aria groaned and rolled onto her back. She held her front legs close to her chest, though the magenta glow that usually ought to be visible simply wasn’t. That was likely due to the extra panels around it, Sonata figured.

Tentatively, Sunset approached Aria’s form on the floor and gave her shoulder a nudge with her hoof. “Are you able to stand?”

Aria blinked, then rocked herself over onto her side opposite Sunset. After some shuffling to get her clear of the table, she rose up, slow and shaky, then put a hoof to her head.

“I’d like to not do that again. It feels like I got smacked in the face a bunch of times, and my head is still spinning.” She groaned and shook her head hard, tossing her mane around.

“It’s probably best you take it easy for a while, then,” said Sunset. “If we have the luxury, anyway.” She then thinned her smile and turned her attention back to Sonata. “Speaking of luxuries… I don’t think I can ignore your talent. I was going to go on about how I don’t have the time or energy to teach you between everything else, but it might actually be beneficial to make sure you’re up to my standard.”

Sonata expected the weirdness of her request to fade away, and while most of it did, some strange feeling still lurked in her chest. Still, she smiled earnestly and leaned in. “So, you’ll teach me?”

“Yep. However, I will need to go over some basic procedures to make sure you don’t do anything so reckless as to perform complex maintenance or upgrades to a live and very delicate device.” She jerked a hoof Sonata’s way, her face turning a little more serious with a lowered brow and some of her own smile fading somewhat. “Do not fiddle with cores when they are active, and do not attach unattuned crystals to anything without being absolutely sure it’ll work. I’m still not convinced you haven’t got lucky so far.”

Sonata thinned her lips and nodded. “Right. What do I do instead?”

“Eh…” Sunset pulled back and shrugged. “I’d rather you didn’t do either, but I also can’t ignore your intuition. We’ll get to it.”

She turned to Aria and waved to the way out. “As for you, we need to be sure your new configuration can be maintained. The connections shouldn’t work, especially with how many unattuned crystals are involved.” Humming, Sunset tapped her chin a few times. “Stay within the outer walls, help out here and there. Let me know if there are any strange sensations or reactions to anything. We need to be absolutely sure you’re not going to experience a catastrophic problem at a bad time.”

“Laze around and snark. Got it.” Aria saluted Sunset, prompting the unicorn to roll her eyes. After sharing a look between the master and apprentice, she turned to the door. “I’ll go speak to Adagio and let her know the good news.” With a quick wink, Sonata’s way, she left.

With the table clear, Sunset proceeded to re-balance the metal top and the boxes beneath, then slowly retrieved the tools scattered to the floor.

Unsure if that meant the end of the conversation between them and her lessons to continue later, Sonata spoke up. “When can you start teaching me?”

Sunset blinked, holding a pair of forceps in her teeth. She gently placed them down on the table. “I’m glad to hear you’re eager, but we should probably figure out what to start with.” She tapped the table. “Please climb on and lay down. We’re going to try and fix you up.”

Sonata did as she asked and, with some care, climbed up and lay herself down. The boxes creaked under her weight, and again, when she spread her weight across her entire body, it remained steady throughout. “What do you mean? I figured out how to fix me and Aria! Couldn’t you kind of… talk more about that?”

Taking up some metal plate with etchings along one flat side, Sunset held it up to the gap in Sonata’s midsection. “I could, but the details might be lost on you. Do you know anything about thaumaturgic theory or aetheric manipulation?”

Sonata tilted her head. “What and what?” Those were long words.

Sunset chuckled, holding the rod to other parts of Sonata’s middle. “Proving my point that you have good intuition but no understanding of basic concepts. To be fair, you’re… barely over a week old, and this is stuff you learn around middle school age.” Taking up the pencil in her teeth again, Sunset once more scribbled something in her notebook.

There, Sonata stared at the page. Now that she focused on it, she could make out various distinct symbols, some repeated and spaced out in uneven patterns.

“What are you doing?”

Humming, Sunset lifted her head. “This? I’m taking measurements to figure out the rough area of missing material in your midsection. That way, I can figure out roughly how much new material I need to fill the gap.” Another hum. “Actually… Sonata, what is two plus two?”

Fully tilting her head, one of Sonata’s ears flicked up while her brow furrowed. “Four?”

“Good. Three times four?”

“Twelve?”

“Five times three, then divided by eight.”

Sonata went crosseyed, and her mouth worked as she noiselessly repeated the words to herself. “Fifteen, then divided by…” She had to think hard, trying to find the number in her head. Sixteen divided by eight was two, so it had to be less than that.

“One and three-quarters?”

Sunset chuckled. “Not quite.”

Sonata frowned and lowered her head, but Sunset shook hers with a smile.

“You’re not far off. You just indicated how much math you actually know and some active problem-solving. It gives me an idea of where to start teaching you. Maybe not knowing decimals is down to your inability to read. Should we tackle that first…?”

Quickly, Sunset flicked to a blank page in her notebook and then started scribbling again. More symbols, but these were spaced out fairly evenly, one at a time.

At least, the first row was. The subsequent row had two symbols grouped at a time but directly under the first. Two rows of ten, then a third…

There was a pattern. The rightmost symbol was the same in each group. An oval. A line. A squiggle, then half a butterfly wing.

Once Sunset had filled the page, she held it up to Sonata. “These are numbers, starting with 0, the oval one. The next along is one, then two—“

“The half-butterfly is three!”

With a confused, “Huh?” Sunset turned the book to face her for a moment. “…Oh, I never thought about that. Yes, you’re right.”

“The fork thingy is four. That means the double circle thing is… Eight!” Sonata gleefully tapped her hooves together. “Then… The far right one on the second row is… nineteen?”

Sunset’s eyes were wide, while the slack-jawed look on her face slowly curled up into a grin. “You’re going to be an excellent student.”
> 13 - Adagio
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adagio only had a faint idea of where she and the castle were.

During their journey to it, in the focused panic and stress, she hadn’t put much thought into figuring out which direction they headed to. However, with the benefit of hindsight and using the sun to help her, she figured she was somewhere generally west of the old tower. The exact direction and how far, she definitely couldn’t say. Altogether, it only muddled the mental map she had of the surrounding valley.

In hindsight, she was surprised she’d managed to find Ponyville on her own. She supposed being up a valley that flowed down to the town helped, but the castle was partway around a small series of mountains strangled by the Everfree.

Adagio walked around the grounds, finding her way up onto the upper walls to see if there was some way of spotting the town further into the valley, but all she could see were treetops and sky.

When they had arrived and unpacked, Adagio had noticed a distinct lack of grains or foodstuffs loaded in. Mostly fruits, many of which had made it through very bruised. She didn’t think Sunset could live long on those, but she knew other, more stable edibles remained at the tower and more besides in Ponyville.

From her point on the wall near the gatehouse, Adagio looked down at the brook bubbling from somewhere underneath the walls. Drawing a line from where it flowed into the castle, she found a well, meaning Sunset had relatively clean water to drink from at least.

As she glanced back, she spotted Aria walking on all four hooves. None of that weird, metallic spider crap.

“You got fixed up fast,” she said. “Sunset?”

Aria shook her head, then pointed at her throat. One of the smaller limbs slipped out of the seam and waggled in the air. “Sonata. Speaking of, Sunset’s gonna teach her. All worked out.”

Adagio snorted. “How in the world she’s becoming the brains of us three, I will never understand.” She turned back, bringing her legs onto the parapet and crossing them under her chin. “It makes sense you’re the brawn. You’re an idiot but a capable one.”

Aria shoved Adagio’s flank with a leg, then stood by the parapet to one side. “I’d resent that if you weren’t right.”

Adagio cracked a smile. “Of course I’m right. I’m meant to be the smart one, after all. Sonata’s just proving to have some surprising overlap.”

As Adagio looked back out into the forest, she could see Aria following her gaze from the corner of her vision. She looked slightly confused, flicking her eyes a little side to side while her ears lifted themselves high and slowly spun around.

“There’s no one out there,” said Aria after half a minute.

With a sigh, Aria plopped her chin on top of her legs. “I know. I just like looking. It’s nice, calming.” She flicked her head around, giving Aria a little glare and smirk. “All you’re looking for is danger. Like I said, brawny idiot.”

Aria rolled her eyes, then started taking a step back. “It was funny the first time, but if all you’re going to do is insult me, then I’m leaving.”

The smirk falling, Adagio pushed herself back from the parapet. She held out a hoof, and Aria stopped herself before taking another step. “Wait,” said Adagio. “I never said you don’t have value. I need you for something. It’ll benefit all of us in the long run, I hope.”

Aria considered Adagio for a moment, then nodded, prompting Adagio to continue.

“I want to head back to Ponyville and try to get Sunset some food.” Adagio gestured to Aria. “You’ve been there and had a better time than I did, so I want you with me.”

To that, Aria crinkled her brow. “Why?” she asked. “I can tell you it’s going to be a dangerous and stupid idea. Guards were crawling all over it the other day, and I don’t think that number’s gone down any since the big fight.”

Adagio wanted to growl, but she swallowed the urge down. Aria wasn’t getting it, but all that meant was that she needed it explained to her. “Sure. Maybe. But we’re at a disadvantage. Sunset’s hungry, and I bet we can get some information, too. Just enough to keep her up to date with our situation.” She then stepped closer to Aria, pitching her voice low. “Besides, showing we all have initiative and can pull it off will ensure Sunset sees our value still. Chrysalis is a brute. I want that to be all she’s good for, so we have to use our heads.”

The crinkle remained, and her mouth wriggled to the side. That told Adagio that there were still some protests or reservations mulling around inside her sister’s mind.

“If I refuse, are you still going to head there?”

Adagio nodded, and that time, it was Aria’s turn to sigh.

“Then fine, I’m in, if only to make sure you don’t get your ass caught.”

Chuckling, Adagio stepped back. “Good. Besides, you know your way around better than I do at this point.”

That got Aria to smirk. "If you say so," she said, and with a snappy salute, Aria turned and led the way down to ground level, taking a route through one of the towers at the corners of the grounds. They housed the only stairs up and down, and only two staircases hadn’t collapsed or been battered and broken to even attempt climbing.

Adagio had considered taking up one of the more ruined towers as her own little space. Somewhere, she could rest despite not needing sleep. That was before Sunset had scrawled out her little map and suggested Adagio take up one of the rooms on the upper floor of the keep.

She’d keep that space in mind for later.

As they made their way to and past the gatehouse, Adagio spotted Chrysalis on the wall in the shadow of one of the other nigh-crumbling towers. She looked out into the forest eastward, like Adagio had. Before she proved ignorant of Aria and Adagio’s presence, however, she glanced over her shoulder. Adagio glared at Chrysalis, staring with her until the gatehouse itself broke line of sight.

Let her brood up there in ignorance. Adagio had plans.

Once in the forest, following an unseen route that Adagio couldn’t make out but Aria seemed to know like the back of her hoof, the sounds of birds and trees became more apparent. The castle’s high walls blocked most of that noise out, save for the scraping of leaves and branches that came from the few trees within the grounds. None of the birdsong or even the sound of the brook met her ears despite how keen they were.

Aria’s eyes and ears felt like they were on overdrive, trying to pinpoint every sound and its source like she could make out the animals learning of their existence.

Aria had wandered into the forest a little more and learned more about its layout. She deftly trotted through the underbrush, hardly making a sound as she did, while Adagio clomped behind, swishing bushes and nearly tripping over root knots.

Credit where credit was due, Aria wasn’t just brawn. There was some thought going on between those ears or wherever her thoughts actually were.

“Sooo,” Aria said, extending out the single syllable. “What’s the long-term plan here?”

Adagio blinked, then stared at the back of Aria’s head. “It’s… still being worked on,” she muttered. “Getting Sunset back on our side is important, but we need some independence. Sonata has already proven she can help us there, but that won’t be enough.”

“Girl’s scary good at this golemancy stuff already,” said Aria. “Won’t getting her a little more know-how be enough?”

“No.” The answer came out clipped and snappy, and then Adagio coughed as if she were clearing her throat. “No,” she said again, letting the answer hang a little longer. “We need resources, too. Stuff that isn’t going to get squirrelled away by Sunset and used on another harebrained idea of hers.”

At the apex of a ridge, Aria stopped and turned to Adagio. “Pick up food, then parts…” She hummed, quiet and thoughtful. “Maybe we ought to get something to get on Rarity’s good side, too?”

For a second, Adagio frowned, but in the next second, her expression softened. She hadn’t met the well-regarded Rarity yet, and all she’d managed to provide them were some clothes. “Why?” Adagio asked, genuinely curious.

Aria looked away, a thin-lipped smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “She’s… nice. She’s been generous to me twice now.”

A smirk tugged at Adagio’s lips, and she clambered up the ridge, stopping alongside Aria. “Don’t be getting soft on me now, sis.”

“I-it’s not like that!” Aria shouted, her voice cracking. “Just, you know. If she’s gonna be nice, then we ought to repay her so she keeps on being nice. We can use that to our advantage.”

A laugh lifted Adagio’s shoulders, and she stepped ahead, taking the lead down the far side of the ridge. “Yeah, sure. That’s the main reason.”

The whine behind her fattened Adagio’s ego, only to have it deflate a little.

“…Uh. I’m lost already. Which way?”

Aria grumbled and stomped down the side of the ridge, taking the lead from Adagio once again.

She got under Aria’s skin, at least, and reminded her who was the bigger sister of the two of them.

After a while in awkward silence, Adagio felt like she was beginning to recognise the forest around her. A little more light made its way through the trees, and that wasn’t for the sun shining higher overhead. Eventually, they reached a point where the trees thinned enough for Adagio to see far ahead, to the rolling hills surrounding and lifting parts of Ponyville.

Something about the town was brighter, too. Before, the town seemed sleepy and quiet, but seeing it on a different day at a different time made it look alive, like an anthill had been dug up and spread out.

That might be a problem, but it could also benefit them. Adagio felt the crowds might help take eyes off them rather than needing to worry about more ponies potentially making them out.

They were somewhere far to the left of where Adagio had come out before, putting the main road in and out perpendicular through the town rather than being near. Given the foot traffic along it, that was a benefit until they got into Ponyville proper.

They were also amidst the thicker farmsteads, with tall rows of crops before them. Squinting into the distance, just over the tops of a wheat field, Adagio spotted a washing line on which hung several blankets. It was oddly convenient, but it gave them something to help them blend in a little more.

Picking up the pace, Adagio trotted alongside Aria and pointed at the washing line. Aria followed, then immediately understood and redirected herself toward the line. The pair clambered over the outer wall of the field, then disappeared into the field. Adagio found herself immediately disoriented, and though she had Aria as a guide, she felt as though the world was slowly turning to the left. She wanted to adjust, but she’d rather she and Aria were lost together.

They came out the other side right before the line, adding another wave of disorientation that quickly righted itself in Adagio’s mental model of the town.

Taking down the blankets, they wrapped them around themselves and tied them off at the front, forming quick, makeshift cloaks. That time, though, Adagio was able to help her sister a little more and received some help in return, ensuring the glow in their chests was adequately hidden, as well as the bolts and smatterings of damage across their bodies.

“Where’s the best place to start searching?” Adagio asked.

Aria shut her eyes, deathly still, mechanical lids covering her glowing eyes. “There’s some stalls we went to on our first trip, but I’m not too sure where they are.”

Aria frowned. “What do you mean you’re not sure where they are?”

Rolling her eyes, Aria pulled up her hood. “I’ve walked down, like, five streets while I’ve been here. The last time I was being chased and wasn’t paying a lot of attention. I bet it’ll come to me as we walk around a little.”

Adagio felt unsure, and it probably showed in her scowl.

“Never said I’d be an amazing guide. I’m just here to make sure you don’t turn into spare parts.” Reaching for Adagio’s hood, Aria pulled that up over her poofy red and yellow mane. “Just keep your eyes out and keep your head down. We’ll find what we need.”

From there, the pair found their way back to one of the many branching dirt roads that bled out from the town. No precise threshold announced their passing into Ponyville’s limits. Still, if Adagio had to pick a point, it would be somewhere around the part where more and more homes and structures were built side by side, enclosing in on them and narrowing into mostly straight streets.

The crowds thickened around them, forcing the pair to slow down and bunch up side by side. Adagio’s last visit only had the occasional distant conversation, but dozens of voices and hoofsteps filled the air, building into a cacophony of noise that she found impossible to parse.

Keeping her head down, she let Aria weave their way through the sea of bodies, their chaotic waves forcing them to one side of the street and then back to the middle. It didn’t take long for Adagio to lose track of where they were and how far they had travelled when all the landmarks she had were an ever-changing tapestry of multi-coloured manes.

At one point, Aria stopped at an intersection, using a leg to stop Adagio from overtaking her. She kept her head low enough that she didn’t quite tower over the ponies around her and subtly pointed with a hoof down one street.

Following the gesture, Adagio spotted several buildings farther down, their round spires and ornate decorations standing out amidst the thatched and slate roofs.

“That is Rarity’s place,” Aria said. “The pink and purple one got all the pony statues on it.”

It wasn’t hard to spot. Of all the rounded, garish buildings down that street, that building was likely the most ornate of them.

“Want to introduce me?” Adagio smiled at Aria, only to be met with a shake of her head. “Why not?”

“Just… not now. Not unless we got something for her.”

Adagio hummed, a mixture of annoyance and acceptance. As far as she knew, there was no reason for Aria to be cagey about heading there, but it wasn’t a priority for the time being. Besides, it was good to know where to find somepony that might be a valuable ally. Once Adagio got better acquainted with the town, she could head back and speak to Rarity herself. If there was a problem between her and Aria, it would be best to cut her out of the conversation.

Then, the crowd parted just long enough for her to make out the guards standing not far from Rarity’s front door. Their glittering armour was impossible to ignore, and Adagio bit her cheek.

Definitely something to worry about later.

“If we aren’t heading there, then where are we going?” Adagio asked, turning back to Aria.

Aria spun halfway around, lifting her gaze to the upper floors of the buildings at the intersection. Some had signs that Aria most certainly could not read, though one had an interesting ornament overhanging the street: a slow spinning cylinder with a spiralling red and white pattern.

With her head, Aria pointed to the right of the ornament. “That way.”

The moment the words left Aria’s lips, she set off again, and Adagio followed behind without pause. That time, she held her head a little higher, just enough that she could at least try to make sense of the landmarks around them.

It didn’t take long for them to eventually step out into a street that Adagio recognised. The road widened, letting the crowd thin out into the broader space. Soft dirt transitioned to hard cobble, and somewhere to the left, a ways down the street sat a tall, round structure.

It immediately brought a recollection of Adagio’s first unfortunate interaction with Twilight. Though, last she checked, there wasn’t a stall anywhere along the main road, nor any stores with food, though she also had to admit she wasn’t exactly looking out for anything like that.

She was happy to be proven wrong as they crossed the street diagonally, finding themselves at another intersection where a large, white fabric marquee tent had been erected. Two sides of the stall were filled with crates filled with fruits, primarily apples, that acted as walls, while the other two let ponies through. A few baskets sat around the one remaining pole, equally filled to the brim.

That was the first of many more tents that ran along that edge of the main road. More ahead seemed to have more options, including a few with steam or smoke rising from them, indicating something burning or cooking.

Adagio and Aria stepped into the cover of the first great tent, looking through the selections. The few other fruits available consisted of a basket of pears and another of oranges, but most of them seemed to be the same variety of glossy, mostly red apples. A few had hints of yellow and even green in places, but they were equally as bright as their brethren, even in the shade.

“Howdy!” The voice carried through the tent, grabbing Adagio’s attention. When she turned around, an orange-coated earth pony waved at her, forcefully making eye contact. Aware of her still-damaged eye, Adagio kept her head partly turned to ensure it was hidden.

“Hi.” She sidled over to the other pony. Her eyes remained fixed on the wares around her, so she almost stumbled into an arrangement right before the earth pony, several baskets sitting at an angle and only half filled with apples. It was then she properly noticed the table tucked to the side covered with crispy brown pastries. “Is all this yours?”

Adagio inwardly cringed at the stupid question.

“Sure as sunshine!” The energy exuding from the earth pony was disgustingly high, making Adagio want to step back and break off the conversation she had just let happen to her. “Grew ’em all myself, with some help from my family. They’re as sweet as they are pretty, lemme tell you.” She chuckled and leaned forward. “I take it you’re not from ’round here if you didn’t know that, though.”

That raised Adagio’s suspicions, sending a tingle down her back. “I-I’m from somewhere nearby!”

The earth pony snorted and waved a hoof. “Pcha, it’s nothin’. With the celebration goin’ on tomorrow, we’re getting folks from far and wide. We ain’t judging strangers, especially if it brings business and interestin’ folks in.”

Reaching down, Adagio picked up one of the apples and held it before her. The skin was shiny, reflecting the light from outside the tent, though it didn’t mirror many details. Its slightly spotted, somewhat rough surface didn’t allow for it. “Interesting folks?” she asked.

“Yourself, for starters. There’s also that organiser holding up in the library and some hoity-toity fellers from the big cities.” She then leaned in, holding a hoof up as if trying to get some privacy, though she only barely dropped her voice quieter. “Then there’s the Princess. Came in by train the other day.”

“The Princess?” Adagio asked. Sunset had mentioned a palace, but Adagio now had some confirmation of the structure of government.

“Yep. Never thought in my life that Princess Celestia would grace our little podunk town. That’s probably why all the other big-types are here, followin’ in her hoofsteps.”

That got Adagio’s attention. Not only was Sunset’s erstwhile mentor in town, but she’d just learned that she was royalty.

She was starting to wonder what other gossip could gather and if it would be as juicy as that.

“Interesting,” Adagio said. She started to walk off, apple in hand, when the Earth pony called out again.

“Hang on. You gonna pay for that?”

Adagio paused, looking between the apple, the earth pony, and then Aria before finally looking at the earth pony again. “Pay?”

“Well… Yeah.” The earth pony pointed to a sign hanging from the crate wall, not that Adagio had a chance to decipher it. “Two bits for one, five for three, or twenty for a basket.”

No one told Adagio she had to pay for the food. Who pays for something everypony except her needs?

“I, uh. I don’t have anything to pay with.”

The earth pony sighed, then gestured to the display before her. “Then I’m afraid you’re gonna have to put it down. Don’t worry none about touching it; I always tell folks to wash their food’ fore eating it.”

For a second, Adagio thought and formulated a plan.

If they were going to need to pay for any food they try to bring back, they would be in a bind. At the same time, there was just so much there, ready for them to take. It wouldn’t be hard. Even with the crowds, she reckoned she and Aria could run.

In the next second, Adagio looked at Aria. A smile crept across Adagio’s lips, and Aria subtly shook her head in return.

In the last second, Adagio tossed the apple at the earth pony, clocking her between the eyes.

As the mare shouted in confusion and pain, Adagio ducked down, slipped the basket handle over her head and galloped out into the street. The frantic motion kicked off the makeshift hood, her thick mane bouncing out behind her.

She glanced behind her and saw Aria follow suit, grabbing a basket of her own in her teeth.

Of course, not looking ahead meant Adagio collided with at least one pony. She remained the right way up, skidding onto her front while the poor pony she hit landed on their back.

Adagio only spent a moment looking down at the pony beneath her, but it was long enough that something stood out as strange. The dark coat looked glossier than most fur Adagio had seen all her life, and the mare’s splayed, almost night-black mane glittered. Those bright, blue eyes, too, seemed oddly flat, almost unnatural…

With no time to wonder, Adagio kicked back onto her hooves and shouldered her way past a guard in golden armour. She faintly recalled seeing more in her periphery.

Rather than taking the street toward Rarity’s home, Adagio tried beelining for the adjacent one, zig-zagging her way between the crowd and garnering a wave of shouts and cries of anger and surprise. Somewhere behind her, the apple pony shouted after them, her voice echoing over the general din of town life.

The crowds proved to be too thick to cover ground as fast as Adagio would have liked, but both she and Aria managed to weave their way through onto the side street.

There, they were forced to a fast-paced walk, forced to obey the flow of the crowd. Too many ponies in too tight a space meant Adagio kept bumping into bodies in front and beside her, getting more disgruntled looks and shouts.

Even so, Aria managed to get alongside Adagio, her glare visible in the corner of her vision. She knew what that meant, but Adagio didn’t need to explain herself. They—Sunset—needed the food. It was there, ready to take. That was all there was to it.

She also caught Aria jerking her head to the side, gesturing to… something. Adagio hadn’t a clue what she wanted from her until Aria pushed her way through the thicker throng in the middle of the road.

Adagio did her best to follow Aria through, but the traffic thickened up enough there was no space to squeeze through, nowhere to weave.

Anxiety kept Adagio’s hooves moving, trotting side to side. She eventually went with the traffic, partly doubling back so she could insert herself into the flow and then veer off.

That… didn’t quite work out how she planned. Instead, she got caught in the middle of one big chunk of ponies, with shoulders and legs nudging her from behind. She tried to resist, but each little bump and nudge pushed her further onward, making it difficult to turn around without being corrected by more shunts.

With the tops of shiny golden helmets up ahead, Adagio tucked her head down and bodily forced her way out of the middle of the road.

In doing so, she toppled over a pair of ponies beside her. One, a pegasus, yelped when the other landed on top of her, but it created an opening for Adagio to snatch.

She leapt over the prone pair and collided with another large, red-coated stallion. He caught her and stumbled further aside, looking down at her with confusion in his green eyes.

“Stop her!” came the stall owner’s voice again. Both Adagio and the stallion looked over to the source, mostly lost in the crowd, then at each other. He looked down at the basket around Adagio’s neck, but right as he started to tighten his grip, she shoved him back with a hoof, knocking the wind from his lungs.

Not content with making a fool of herself further, Adagio pushed her way through the crowd at the edge of the street, letting the wall beside her act as a buffer she could scrape alongside.

There was no sign of Aria up ahead, not that she could see above the crowd anyway. Adagio could crane her head up, try to spot a hooded figure or a hint of Aria’s mane or tail, but she wanted to avoid giving her pursuers something to follow if she could help it. That meant she was on her own to figure out how to return, hoping Aria would do the same.

Passing an alleyway, the afterimage of somewhere mostly empty took a moment to register, and she skidded to a stop. Adagio doubled back to it, peering along. It bent to the right, blocking any notion of an exit, but she figured it was better to try and slip through it. Hopefully, the crowd was still thick enough that they couldn’t be sure she’d taken the little side route.

Once down it, Adagio broke into a full gallop, her hooves thundering into the ground. There was a slight unevenness to it, a wobbling gait that made her slowly turn to the side. About halfway through the alley, she started to lose feeling in her back left leg, and by the time she neared the exit, it was almost entirely numb.

She must have worked too hard. She’d put too much weight on it and become far too active, though, if anything, that spoke to rushed work on Sunset’s part.

To her fortune, the alley did open out onto another street, one that seemed a little less busy. There were actual gaps in the hoof traffic that let her see the far side.

With her leg in the state it was, Adagio found herself forced to a hobbling walk. She could still put weight on the limb, that she still had some sort of control of it, but couldn’t be sure where she was putting it. More than once, it came down awkwardly, the hoof bent at an odd enough angle that she couldn’t support herself right, which made her stumble forward.

Still, she made progress, eventually turning down another street and zig-zagging her way south through the town’s blocks. Every now and then, she spared a glance behind her and, each time, was rewarded with a lack of golden helmets, a lack of further shouting.

Smiling to herself, Adagio began thinking she made it. She stumbled less as she gave her muddled leg more time to swing and find its footing.

She was nearly away. A few more streets, maybe a bridge and definitely some fields, and Adagio would be away. There was still the possibility that Aria wouldn’t have made it, but she’d proven herself to be of sturdier and sneakier stuff than Adagio.

Adagio turned one more corner onto one more street, and the mountains and forest ahead were at last visible as bands of grey and green and brown. She could even see a figure further on, a basket by her feet. Aria had tucked herself off to the side by a wall ahead, and her head lowered enough that Adagio could feel her relief from far away. They were both going to make it scott-free.

Take that, Chrysalis.

Then, it felt as though every one of Adagio’s legs went numb, but as she rose off the ground and tipped upside down, a chill gripped her chest.

The ground rushed up to Adagio’s face, then swung somewhere above her head. She dangled in the air, her legs bound together and leaving her with little recourse but to shake her shoulders and head. Apples fell past her face, followed by the basket, all thumping to the floor and slowly spreading out around the feet of the mare Adagio had bumped into at the start of their escape.

Faint, cerulean magic encapsulated a dark horn, and she regarded the levitating Adagio with a tilt of her head.

“I thought I would have to wait longer to lay my eyes on one of you.” She smiled, and Adagio floated closer to her, her mane dragging along the ground.

Speaking like that reminded Adagio of another pony, and she growled. “You better not want to cut me open, too.”

* * *
> 14 - Aria
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aria stood there in silent surprise, watching the unicorn deftly lift Adagio off the ground. Heedless of her kicking and growling, her animalistic protests, Adagio’s captor stared at her. Even far down the street, it looked like she was studying her, watching the way Adagio squirmed with curiosity.

That wasn’t the plan. Adagio was in the clear, Aria was sure of it. It was like that mare had simply appeared behind her, stealing her away when she was only a hair’s breadth from freedom.

Other ponies walking the street paused or turned to watch the odd event, and as Aria watched, weighing her options, they slowly gathered around. A small crowd, an audience around a display.

None of them wore golden regalia. If Sonata could just run in, using the crowd for cover, body-check the pony aside, she could have Adagio freed and run to the forest in just a few moments.

So then, why did Aria’s hooves remain stuck to the floor? It was like she was rooted to the ground. Fear, maybe? Whatever it was, it felt like something heavy had drilled its way into her hooves, pulling her down. The thought of darting up there seem so distant.

Even worse, there was something off about the dark-coated mare. An extraordinary and uncomfortable sensation filtered through Aria’s body, focused almost entirely on her chest, and it wanted her to put space between the two of them. As much as possible.

With the thought of turning tail and retreating entering Aria’s mind, she found lifting her leg and turning about so much easier. The possibility made Aria’s heart sick, though. She had to try. Adagio was partly to blame for the situation, but Aria had promised to keep her safe.

Muttering some choice words she’d borrowed from Sunset, Aria swallowed. Bundling the frustration, anger, and fear for her sister’s life, she used the combined feelings to push aside the disquiet and march down the street in Adagio’s direction, leaving the stolen basket of apples where it sat.

Aria didn’t run. Though the mare’s attention was on Adagio, she’d only need to look past to see Aria rushing up. So she kept herself slow, tucked to the side and matching pace with the smattering of other ponies along the road.

She squeezed in alongside the growing throng of bodies. She kept her head down so as not to rise above the rest of them and draw attention to herself. If the mare was associated with the guard—which she likely was if she took immediate attention to Adagio—she’d recognise Aria if she stood out too much.

Even though she hung upside down, Adagio’s mane and tail dangling loosely to the ground, Adagio kept a firm scowl across her face. She squirmed where she floated, her shoulders wriggling and trying vainly to tug herself free of the magic tangling her together.

“Put me down, now,” Adagio barked, growling like a cornered animal. She had no chance of biting back, despite how ineffective it might be.

The mare snorted. “After all the trouble you and your friends caused?” Throwing her head back, she laughed. “Not a chance. You haven’t got to worry much about me, though. I’ll take good care of you.”

A sound rose in Adagio’s throat, and if it weren’t for the fact it was impossible, Aria would think she was about to spit on the other mare.

“My sister will be here any moment,” she said. “She’ll get me free, and—“

“I’ll just grab her, too. It wouldn’t be hard. Let’s be off.” The mare turned, facing away from Adagio. After a moment’s pause, she cleared her throat, and the crowd parted. The golem rose further up, and Aria and Adagio’s eyes met for a moment.

A pause, then a shared nod.

Okay, she was doing this then.

Shouldering through the mass around her, Aria took a few fast, bounding steps and leapt toward the mare, a hoof outstretched and aimed for the back of the mare’s head.

That dark, steely gaze snapped around, and in a hair’s width of time, Aria found herself unceremoniously tossed aside. She careened over the crowd, her mind struggling to deal with the sudden change in inertia, then crashed into the plaster and underlying brick of somepony’s house.

Aria fell to the floor, white chips and red dust raining to the ground around her until her glossy skin was covered with a thin layer of crap.

A shadow fell over her. The mare, while small, managed to loom over Aria. “Oh, good. You’ve also saved me the trouble of trying to chase you down.” She hummed. “The right structure and build, but I could swear the reports labelled you as dead.” She sniffed.

“What can I say? I’m pretty tough.” Aria stood and squared her shoulders, dipping her head and thumping a hoof into the road.

She didn’t have a run-up to build up speed, but the mare stood less than a whole body’s length between them. “Stupid, too. Put her down, or we do this the hard way.”

The mare rolled her eyes. “I just smacked you aside like you were nothing.”

Aria tensed her back legs, bracing them on the wall behind her, and then she pushed off and slid beneath the mare.

Another force smacked her in the side. A shimmering wall of magic punted Aria across the muddy ground, but she managed to close the gap enough she had a leg wrapped around one of the mare’s ankles. Rolling in the dirt, she pulled the other mare down. She landed with a thud and a yelp.

Without any of the hesitation before, Aria scurried up on top of the mare, trying to pin her down. She managed to get most of her weight on top of her, hoping what she’d learned from trapping Sunset with her weight proved true.

Instead, she learned that Sunset could probably have ejected Aria—or any of her sisters—at any time. A punch to Aria’s belly sent her skyward, spinning and tumbling through the air. She managed to spot Adagio scrambling on the floor for a split second, but Aria came falling down to Equus before she could see if she got up, where she was headed.

Pain was distant, a sensation Aria thought of rather than felt, but the sheer act of smacking her head on the floor still left her reeling. A fog flooded Aria’s head, connections between her mind and body flaring as the spindly legs down her throat slipped. It only took her a half-second to rediscover her grip, though, the spinning confusion passing as quickly as it came.

Aria tilted her head, burying her crown in the dirt, and spotted dark hooves pushing the strange mare back up. Mud and grit marred her dark, glittering mane, and Aria grinned.

The mare shot a broad smile back Aria’s way, and for a brief moment it was like looking into a mirror. Was that what it was like to be on the receiving end of Aria’s beat downs?

“I’m not going to give you credit for that one,” the mare said. “Though I do appreciate the effort.”

Slower that time, Aria rolled onto her front, but instead of standing up and towering over the mare, a force pushed down her back.

Her chin in the dirt, Aria could only use her eyes to look up at the mare. Remnants of the crowd remained, scattered around the street, leaving Adagio in clear view.

The two met eyes again, and Aria shook her head ever so slightly.

Their unspoken conversation caught the mare’s attention, and she glanced over her shoulder. The pressure on Aria’s back didn’t relent. “Are you going to try something stupid, too?”

“Don’t, ‘Dagi.”

One of the mare’s ears spun around, but her eyes remained on Adagio. “‘Dagi’?”

“I’m not going to leave you. That wasn’t the plan.”

Little by little, Aria slowly unhooked her smaller limbs from her body. The pressure on her back lessened, not because the mare let up but because Aria felt it less. “Get those apples back to Sunset,” Aria said. “I’ll be fine.”

The conflict turned Adagio’s confident scowl into something more uncertain, with slightly parted lips and a crease between her smooth eyebrows. “I’ll be back.”

Aria’s spider-like body disconnected entirely from her torso, and the small limbs slid out of her neck. Without the harsh grip on her body, speaking came easy again. “I know. I’ll be fine.”

The mare snorted. “Please. I’ll have both of you back to where I’m staying—“

The mare shrieked as Aria leapt forward and used her tiny legs to scurry up her leg. Her head lagged behind, inertia and gravity trying to keep it from following, forcing Aria to stare down her snout at the mare’s wide-eyed expression.

When the inevitable magic grip came, Aria pinched strands of hair as tight as she could. Rather than go flying, the hair went taut, yielding yet another cry from the mare. More of her mane filled Aria’s vision, but she held firm, closing her eyes tight to keep the strands from tickling her gemstone irises.

“What in the world are you?” The magic pulling on Aria lessened, as did the pull on the mare’s scalp, at least right until Aria used her other limbs to help pull herself along. The flat ends of each metal leg made an excellent pincer, yanking more of the midnight mane taut.

Aria had no idea what her game was at that point. She mostly wanted to buy time, and the focus on her convinced her she had it. She pulled herself along to the mare’s scalp, some of the silky smooth hair falling away where it came loose from its follicles or snapped in between. Once settled there, she could make out more around her, and giving a quick glance at where she thought Adagio stood confirmed that she’d taken the opportunity to run.

Hopefully, she grabbed the basket Aria left.

Aria twisted herself back around, doing her best job of tangling herself in the mare’s mane. Indeed, even her hair started getting caught in the growing rat’s nest. Facing the mare’s horn, she grinned and reached for it. “I always wondered how these work,” she said. She flicked it hard, and the magic around Aria’s little body totally fled.

That only lasted a moment, with the following yank pulling Aria free and a few hairs from both their scalps.

Aria flew for the third time that day, though that time she crashed through a closed window, mingling with glass shards that fell around her onto a carpeted floor.

Aria took a few moments to right herself. A little surprise filled her tiny gut, and she beamed at how she came in. She hadn’t planned anything else, working entirely with her stomach, and it seemed to pay off.

Well, until the mare made the small hole, Aria made much, much bigger.

With a yelp, Aria curled up. The sudden downward force of beating wings rolled Aria across the floor until she came to rest at the foot of a wardrobe, one eye pressed to the ground.

The other drank in the furious shadow towering over her, and she wanted nothing more than to swallow at that very moment.

A pegasus and a unicorn in one. Earth ponies, Aria could manage. Unicorns and pegasi, they’d hurt her.

That frozen feeling and intense desire to flee once more filled Aria’s very being.

“I’m not giving you credit for that on principle,” she mare growled. The humour and pleasantries had left her voice, leaving behind low fury.

A nervous laugh popped out of Aria’s mouth as she slowly righted herself. “It worked, didn’t it?”

An uncharacteristic yelp came next as she was lifted from the floor. She turned slowly in the air, all her limbs splayed out. Aria couldn’t even manage a slight twitch.

The wrongness from before filled the room. It felt more like Aria had fallen into midnight, with the only light coming not from the sun through the window but from the pair of blue-green moons before her, glaring beneath mad eyebrows.

It dissipated a little when a voice from outside shouted. Aria hadn’t caught what was said, but the mare turned to the broken window.

Holding Aria tight, she leapt through the window. Aria expected her to thud to the ground, creating small craters where her hooves landed. She drifted, gliding slowly and smoothly before coming to a gentle, flapping stop before a small gaggle of guards.

Two of them were panting hard, doubled over, while the others beside and behind them awkwardly stared at Aria.

She recognised the pegasus she’d snapped the wing of among them and felt tiny.

“Miss… Selene…” one of the panting guards raised his head. “Are you… hurt?”

Selene looked over herself, then patted her face and scalp with a hoof, dislodging some drying dirt from her mane and fur. “I am fine.” She glanced over her shoulder, looking down the street into the forest far in the distance.

“Your Majesty wants you back at the town hall,” one of the other guards said. “We have reports that the troublemakers—“

“They’re here,” said Selene, and she held up Aria a little higher as if she were ever hidden. “This one accosted me, and there is another. I think I know where she was headed.” The rest of her body turned. “We’ll be pursuing her.”

Silence fell over the group. Uncertain expressions masked the squad’s faces, and the more Aria looked, the more she recognised faces from the assault on Sunset’s tower.

“You’re scared.” Aria laughed and smirked. “The big one’s got to you, right?”

Selene flicked her head back around, squinting at Aria, then glaring at her guards.

“It’s not that,” said the first guard. His helmet’s brush seemed a little taller than the others, a strip of blue amongst the white. “But if she is there, we cannot guarantee your safety. We cannot allow you to go into the forest.”

With a sigh, Selene deflated. “I could just go alone,” she said. “But then I’d get you all in trouble.” She shut her eyes and clenched her jaw. It looked as if she were chewing on something until the muscles in her face relaxed, and a gentle smile curled up her lips.

Her eyes weren’t quite in agreement with the rest of her face.

“We have one of them. The rest will come.”
> 15 - Sunset
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“We’re not going.”

Sunset stared down the gawping Adagio. She looked dirty, wearing a muddy rag that barely obscured her appearance, and had bolted into Sunset’s new lab as she was wrapping up Sonata’s first proper lesson.

Anger did not adequately describe what welled up inside of Sunset. It was one part of her, a speck of dust the icy fury within built around. That and the frigid fear spread through her torso, filling her legs from the hoof to her hock.

She could not, in the slightest, believe what she had heard come out of Adagio’s mouth. She lacked the words for it, stupidity, insanity, undue desperation.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Adagio shouted. “They have Aria! I barely got away with her help.”

Sunset shut her eyes and rubbed a hoof to her forehead in circles. She occasionally bumped the inhibitor, still scratched and dented from Chrysalis’ attempts to remove it. “All the more reason we can’t go and help her. Not right now.”

Opening her eyes, Sunset resumed working on unstrapping Sonata from her bed, which Sonata took advantage of immediately. The moment her front half was loose, the rest of her stood up and leapt off the table, standing to one side equidistant from Sunset and Adagio. There, she twisted around to examine her new midsection.

Adagio growled and rolled her eyes. “Twilight threatened to cut me open before. Are you saying you want to risk that happening to Aria?” Stomping around the table, she closed in on Sunset. “We need to go now, not wait. We need to go into Ponyville and—“

“And what?” She shoved a hoof to Adagio’s chest, though she remained firmly in place. “Watch you and Sonata get caught and taken apart, too? We’re not prepared. We can’t be sure where they’ve taken her. With everything happening right now, it’ll take way too long even to start searching. Not to mention—“The hoof slid up and covered Adagio’s mouth as she faux-inhaled. “—that you’ve proven reckless and dangerous when left alone. I’m beginning to wonder if you’re actually worth the effort.”

Sonata gasped, catching both mares’ attention, and Sunset saw the thoughts whirling in Adagio’s mind out of the corner of her eye.

“What do you mean by that?”

Sunset shut her eyes again. Her head throbbed, and an acute pain ran into her brain as though a pick had pierced her skull through her horn.

“You were meant to be my big break. My way to prove myself, to improve my life.” Sunset scoffed. “Now I’m wanted by the royal guard, I’ve been forced out of another home, and there’s a good chance this one is pretty damn temporary. All because I made you three.”

She opened her eyes, and the deep, crinkling frown on Sonata’s face felt like a hammer on that pick.

Sunset couldn’t bear it, and she turned back to Adagio. It was easier to be angry with the cause of her problems. Sonata was just an accessory to them. “Were you followed?” Sunset asked with a deep, low croak.

“No. The mare that attacked us was inside someone’s house chasing Aria’s head last I saw.”

At least homelessness was tentatively off Sunset’s checklist.

“I need you out. Both of you.” She glared at Adagio, then softened her gaze when she turned to Sonata. Hopefully just enough that she would understand, though it was unlikely she could properly suppress her anger. Sonata would be upset either way. “I need to think.”

For a moment, it seemed Adagio was going to defy Sunset. The way her jaw clicked and twitched made it clear she had something more to say, but Sunset wasn’t in the mood for it any longer.

“Out. Now.”

Adagio did as she was told and left without a sound. It took her calling Sonata to follow and them disappearing down the long corridor to Celestia knows where for Sunset to figure that it wasn’t silence she heard. Still, the thunderous roar of her heart hammering away in her ears.

Lifting a hoof, Sunset resists the hulking urge to slam it down onto her workstation. Instead, she thumped it on the ground, approached the entrance, and shoved one of the heftier crate’s lids in front.

It was no door, but it would give her much-needed privacy.

She put her back to the lid and slumped down to her haunches as she surveyed her new workshop. Everything about it seemed a little off since she got set up.

It was easy to figure out why. Sunset had spent months laying out her tower precisely as she’d liked. She didn’t have to search for tools; she just knew where they were. Tinkering on a leg and needing a screwdriver? All she’d have to do was take a few steps back and to the left, and she could reach out with her back hoof.

She didn’t even need to do that, of course. The moment she needed a specific tool or material, it would hover beside her.

Sunset keenly felt the loss of both luxuries. Now, she had to search through crates and boxes by hoof, clumsily retrieving them by mouth. Things had become mixed up in the move. Sometimes, she’d find a screwdriver buried under hammers she seldom used, or a bolt she needed ended up drowning in a small container of gems. Not to mention that much of Sunset’s stuff simply didn’t make it over. She had whole drafts, schematics, and small prototypes still in the tower’s attic, and now Twilight likely had it all.

Sunset couldn’t help but smirk a little at the twerp growing irate over her work. Spike was good, but Chrysalis was terrific in both senses.

Thumping her head to the door, Sunset looked up at the ceiling. The room held less light, illuminated purely by a few crystals she had Chrysalis power. They didn’t have the same cool blue glow, filling the old chamber with a vague, caustic green. Like the migraine, the lack of sleep contributed to Sunset’s gut’s never-easing nausea.

It also made the corners of the room a little more harsh. Apparently, Sunset saw more contrast in green, however, faint the hue, which made working by hoof not quite as arduous, but that higher contrast also meant the shadows of crates and trash—or simply the extent of the crystal’s reach—became dark splotches in Sunset’s vision.

It gave the strong, unshakeable impression that something else was there with her.

That was a silly thought, of course. Chrysalis couldn’t hide in there if she tried, and while Sunset had read a little about supernatural beings of darkness and smoke, she highly doubted they existed, let alone that one would take an interest in her.

The presence was all in Sunset’s mind. Nor was it really that discomforting. It didn’t feel malicious.

Just odd.

“I am in way over my head,” she muttered. The non-presence did not answer back, but it felt good to admit the thoughts in Sunset’s head nonetheless.

It was true. Things had escalated well beyond Sunset’s ability to adapt and improvise. She had started to fall behind, not because there were minds more brilliant than hers at work—though Twilight’s certainly gave Sunset a run for her money. No, there were simply too many moving parts added to the plan and too many things happening simultaneously.

She had a plan. It was simple. She figured she’d be on her way to Canterlot by that point. Still, instead, she was holed up in an abandoned castle, unable to cast magic with magical inventions—tools to anyone else—doing whatever in Tartarus it was they wanted.

She wanted to rein them in. Adagio was proving to be dangerous, overthinking when she understood too little. She acted like she had the brain of an adult twice Sunset’s age, yet her actions proved she knew little more than a foal.

It led to growing resentment, a pit of anger in Sunset’s belly shaped like Adagio. She was responsible for setting everything into motion, alerting Twilight and her cronies to Sunset’s presence and her work.

Sunset could just go out there, make demands, pin the blame on Adagio, and pass her over to Aria in return.

If she did, though, she might never regain Aria and Sonata’s trust again. Never mind the fact she’d be condemning a thinking being to goodness knows what in Twilight’s clutches. Not to mention that blaming something that, until recently, even Sunset was sure couldn’t honestly think or feel might be hard to do.

Scoffing, Sunset rose back to her hooves and approached her makeshift worktable. Small splotches of fake skin stained the top, and scuff marks and scratches. Atop it all was one of Sunset’s notepads, opened to a page full of equations.

Half of them had been filled in by Sonata. The mare struggled to properly understand what half of the formulae meant, what they were helpful for and even how to read them, but she managed to follow the math when explained, much to Sunset’s surprise. Sunset smiled as she read back through their quickened lesson. Most of what she ‘taught’ Sonata was just a quick series of tests to help gauge how much Sonata knew explicitly and intuitively.

Given time, she was sure Sonata could make for an excellent golemancer in her own right. She was never a match for Sunset, but she was definitely capable of stepping out of her shadow.

Turning to the increasingly scant blank pages, Adagio picked up the nearby pencil and began sketching. Mostly, she vented her thoughts, not in an explicit way but more so through gestures. Long, scratchy lines, swirling scribbles. It gave Sunset some sense of control that trashing her lab wouldn’t.

Anger and brash thoughts were Aria’s thing, after all. But she had heart, too. She is willing to throw herself directly into harm’s way. She’d done so too many times in just a few short days, and each time, she must have been sure that would have been the last attempt before she was ultimately, utterly broken.

Hopefully, that fiery temperament and inability to back down meant she’d survive long enough to get herself killed another way.

Sunset flipped the pencil in her mouth regarding her ‘work’. A messy scribble, vaguely shaped like a pony. Its proportions were wrong for most: too long, too bulky. No details could be made about why, as it was made from raw, swirling shapes and sharp overlapping lines. Just a mess of thoughts and gestures.

Kind of like Chrysalis. Big, thick, sturdy. Maybe a little homicidal, but Sunset took the lack of corpses around the tower as a sign that everyone got away with their lives.

Chrysalis’ raw strength and lack of squishy, pretty skin made her an excellent tool to fight. That’s what Sunset made her for, an exemplar of function over form. She gave Sunset the heeby-jeebies when she looked at her, the skull-like face and fake fangs, even if that exhilarated her too.

The sisters’ weakness was their purpose. They were more potent and resilient than most ponies but still made as an example of form. Perfectly moulded faces, made to match Sunset’s ideal of attractiveness, designed to so succinctly climb back out of the uncanny valley.

She’d done an excellent job, given that plenty of ponies seemed to accept them.

Until they didn’t.

Sunset flipped to another blank page, then sketched anew, filled with purpose.

Sunset didn’t want to retrofit the sisters. At least, not too much. But they had a unique property that was clear in Chrysalis’ design.

They didn’t need to keep all their moving parts inside.

The sketch of a form, slightly larger than most ponies but familiar. Sunset’d given the figure a straight hairstyle, tied off into two pigtails to keep it clear of the improvements she drew around it.

Sunset had left the bolts on the sisters’ necks visible. It was the most accessible, least obtrusive way of powering them up, and with the right tools, she could tinker with the tuning of every crystal within if needed.

But if she added more…

She could potentially create a complete circuit around…

With additional pistons and joints…

All covered with…

Sunset dropped the pencil at the foot of the page and stepped back. She felt a little lighter, as though channelling her worries into a potential solution for at least one problem dragged some of the weight of her issues off her shoulders.

There were two issues with the design before Sunset, though.

The first was a lack of materials. They’d exhausted much of what they could work with and were down to scraps. It was barely enough for repairs and wholly inadequate for the coverage Sunset envisioned.

She’d have to hunt for something. Maybe some old weapons and other materials could be scrapped, making a lightweight prototype that is partial to her design.

The other problem was escalation.

If Sunset went through with this newfound plan, it would be a clear signal of escalation. Twilight would retaliate, with her association with Celestia and the Royal Guard at her beck and call; it was only a matter of time before they hit back even harder.

That was the bind, of course. The events set in motion would continue to escalate, for tensions to continue to rise. Sunset’s fight had a clear winner in the long term. She hadn’t the resources or the pony power to win out if things were to drag on.

Continuing the fight wasn’t an option.

Neither was scrapping the idea and giving up.

Both would condemn her and the sisters in the long term. It was likely Sunset would be taken in and imprisoned. She was responsible for the sisters’ creation and Chrysalis’, and she’d be accountable for their destruction, too, if she wasn’t careful.

“Damnit!” Sunset slammed a hoof onto the table, the reverberations rattling the bones up her leg. It hurt, another sensation to make her pounding head pound harder. Another fight will cost them.

But if it would cost them, then perhaps Sunset could control the price.

It would be expensive. She couldn’t give them Adagio, or Sonata, or even Chrysalis. They deserved clemency for what ultimately amounted to Sunset’s decisions. Aria, too, means Sunset would have to find some way of getting her free and back to her sisters.

Giving herself over felt like madness, but it could work if she got the upperhoof for just long enough. Assure the sisters she would be fine, ensure that Sonata had good foundational knowledge to fix everyone up and improve them.

With something resembling the seed of a plan, Sunset turned her attention to the exit. She loathed to exit, to step out and talk to Adagio again so soon. She might not even spare more than a few words for her.

Sunset would have to at some point, but before she could shove the board blocking her way out aside, something else shoved it aside instead.

Chrysalis stood in the doorway, tall, imposing. As she had every time before she laid eyes on her, Sunset felt a mix of awe, pride, and trepidation, as though Chrysalis’ mere presence conveyed an underlying monstrous nature.

She smiled, her sharp, artificial teeth barely reflecting the low light. Teeth that often found their way to Sunset’s throat when Chrysalis tried to tend to the inhibitor still strapped to her horn. “I do hope I’m not intruding.”