Sometimes paying your rent means you have to drive through six feet of snow, fight eight-foot-tall golems, and deal with your ex simultaneously. Luckily, Sunset might pull it off.
Sunset needs a job, and Princess Twilight Sparkle has the perfect one. All she has to do is find a magical crystal in the middle of the frozen north and return without freezing solid or being crushed by strange golems under the command of a deranged mage caught up in the thrill of discovery.
For the fortieth time that day, Sunset Shimmer wished she could cast magic again. Several years ago, almost a lifetime ago, Sunset stood proudly as Celestia’s apprentice. She had access to libraries of spells, the authority to learn whatever she desired, and the right to use those spells. She knew all the Techniques: Create, Control, Perceive, Transform, and Destroy. She knew all the forms: Matter, Energy, Body, Image, and Mind. And for the last thirteen years, they all meant nothing.
Living in the Human World, a strange mirror of the pony world she knew so well, had challenges her younger self had not been prepared for. Most she learned from, and it did talk her out of the revenge-fueled mania she had from back in the day. However, lacking all magic still irked her in her day-to-day life.
Yes, she had hands, which certainly helped with most things, but their range was severely limited. What’s worse, unlike telekinesis, which she could use right now, they couldn’t work around solid objects.
“Come on,” she whispered, tapping at the glass. “Come on…”
The bag of chips teetered on the edge, caught between the wire cage, the glass, and the long drop to freedom.
Sunset only had a ten-minute break, it was already six pm, and this would be the closest thing she’d have for dinner until nine. “Come on, fall,” she muttered, willing the bag to fall. “I already paid for you. I just need you to fall.”
The bag of chips refused.
Sunset placed both hands on either edge of the breakroom vending machine and tried to shake it, but the stubborn bag refused.
She threw her shoulder into the mechanical captor of her well-earned snack, and it thundered as it rocked on its stubby, hidden legs.
The bag did not move.
“Come on!” She growled, body checking the machine once more.
Thump-thump, the machine bellowed, threatening to tumble over and crush her if she tried any harder.
She let the machine settle and glared at the bag one more time before she backed up to try again before—
“Sunset!”
The red-and-yellowed-haired woman nearly leaped out of her skin as the voice of her current employer roared behind her. “Uh, Mr. Shine! What do you need?”
Shoe Shine, the owner of Spitshine Shoes, glared down at her. “I need you to stop making so much noise that the customers can hear you on the floor.”
She winced. “Yes, sir. Sorry, the machine just…it still has my chips.”
Mr. Shine sighed before putting in another fifty cents and pressed the buttons for a selection.
The machine whirred to life, releasing a candy bar above the bag, knocking it free. Mr. Shine removed the candy bar from the tower of snacks and circuitry before passing Sunset her chips. “Talk to us next time, please.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
He nodded. “Eat up, finish your break, and start cleaning the floor. I want to be out by 8:30 tonight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sunset sighed and sat on the metal folding chair before opening the bag. As she sat, she couldn’t help but hear a tiny voice in her head comment about how the young woman might lose this job next if she wasn’t careful.
“I didn’t lose the last job,” she reassured herself. “I quit because I didn’t feel like staying in a bank. I’m not made to be a clerk.”
No, the little voice agreed, sarcasm dripping from each word. Instead, you didn’t want to stick with food service, either. Or Working in a bookstore, a hobby shop, or a game store. You’re just shopping around.
Sunset didn’t bother answering that accusation. She just needed to find the right fit for herself, that was all. Yes, it meant she was currently stuck with two part-time jobs to make rent, but at least Mr. Shine was one of her better bosses—fights over vending machines notwithstanding. Sunset just needed time to find the right job for her. Sure, it’d take a little time, but then she’d take the human world by storm.
Sunset ate her chips and quickly found herself at the end of the bag and hoped it would be enough until she could grab some dinner on the way back home. She set the bag aside before grabbing a water bottle. She sipped quietly, taking time to breathe and relax before throwing herself back onto the frontlines of the sales floor.
She came to the end of her water bottle faster than she liked, which meant her break would not last much longer.
She sighed. “Come on, Sunset. Tonight’s not even that bad. You just need to close. That’s all.”
The young woman checked the time on her phone.
Already up.
Maybe it was some leftover temporal synchronization from the last time she went through the portal to Equestria, but time never seemed to flow the way it should.
Or that could be brain chemistry taking advantage of a quiet moment.
Sunset threw away the bag and bottle, then returned to work.
---♦---
They did not leave at 8:30. A customer knocked over a display of their new high-end sneakers with only two minutes until the doors closed. The whole thing needed to be re-stacked, which took almost all her time while everyone else ensured the returns were properly sprayed down to “disinfect” them and then do everything she usually had to take care of.
Still, the important thing was that she was done. At the end of the day, all she could do was head to her poor, beat-up car, climb in, and head to a burger place to the nearest drive-through.
“Number 1, medium, with lemonade, please,” she recited into the speaker.
“Absolutely, that’ll be 6.44 at the next window,” the male voice said.
“Thank you,” she said, mostly on autopilot.
She pulled up and held out cash for her dinner, but as she did, her mind wandered back to her thoughts from the day. If she wanted to be technical, which she usually did, she still had some access to magic.
Her little crystal had some “Equestrian” magic, a strange subset of Mind magic she hadn’t seen before. In fact, the crystal may not have been Equestrian magic at all but perhaps came from somewhere else entirely.
She took her change and pulled to the next window.
Maybe the portal changed how magic worked? It already messed with time, body composition, and shape while keeping brains seemingly untouched. As this was an entirely alternate universe, it was theoretically possible that the rules of magic could change. Yes, everything else about the portal could be possible with enough magical power and knowledge, but that didn’t mean the portal was changing those things because of magic. It could simply be ensuring that anything that enters plays by the new world’s rules.
The cashier handed Sunset her bag of food. “Thank you!” she said.
“Have a good evening!”
Sunset drove off, heading to the rundown area of downtown, where her home awaited her.
Sure, it still wasn’t the friendliest place in the world, but considering she couldn’t even get a bank account without proving she was born, all that mattered was that the landlord accepted cash and asked no questions.
Pulling her rough-looking hatchback next to the apartment’s sidewalk, Sunset sighed and began climbing the stairs to her apartment. The light flickered in the stairwell, and the other bulb blew out months ago, but no one bothered the landlord about it.
After all, he didn’t ask questions, so they didn’t ask questions of him.
Up the single flight of stairs, she went to her little sanctuary and breathed in the smell of home.
Tinged only slightly with mildew.
Sunset turned on her computer and pulled her sandwich from the bag, which was only slightly cold now. Taking a satisfying bite, she watched as her screens came awake. A moment later, Chaos, the message board she used to keep up with the girls, opened.
No one was online.
Her smile dropped, and she leaned back into her chair again.
She wasn’t shocked. It was midterms, and with the rest of her friends in various colleges around the country, they were probably spending the time studying.
Except for maybe one.
She sent a message directed specifically at Rainbow Dash, and like clockwork, she came online a few seconds later.
“Sunny! What’s up?” came Rainbow’s text reply.
“Hey, Rainbow. I just got off work. Just wondering what all of you guys are up to.”
“Not much,” Rainbow replied without punctuation, “just the usual. I have a match I gotta prep for and a test I need to pass if I’m going to keep my sports scholarship, but that’s not for another week.”
“Shouldn’t you be studying for that?”
“Not yet.”
Sunset frowned but didn’t push the matter any further.
“Anyway,” Rainbow continued. “Where are you working this week?”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “I do not change jobs that much.”
“Sounds like stalling to me,” she responded, using a winking emoji.
“I’m still at Spitshine, thank you.”
“Right. I’m sure. Look, you’ve been offered a job at the bank. It makes the money you need, and you might be able to…well, saying it now just makes it sound more illegal.”
“I’m not going to work with Flash.”
“Didn’t you guys make up?”
“No. We’re just pretending we didn’t date, which is not far from the truth, but it’s still weird.”
“Well, why is it weird if you didn’t date?”
“Because we did, and when we were dating, I was explicitly using him for popularity. It was not great, Rainbow. We tried to move past it, but it is weird, okay.”
“Alright, alright. So the bank’s out. What else have you got.”
“I don’t know,” Sunset typed before popping a fry in her mouth. “I’m trying Spitshine, and I hope it works out.”
“I hope it does for you too.”
Sunset began typing a new response, preparing to start a new sentence before Rainbow sent another message. “I actually gotta go. I do have practice tomorrow morning. Have a good night, Sunset.”
She sighed and backspaced over her entire message before starting again. “Alright, have a goodnight, Rainbow.”
Rainbow sent a wave, and she disappeared from the app, leaving Sunset alone in her apartment.
She finished her sandwich before she turned to face her car seat-turned-couch and the game console sitting next to it that she hadn’t had a chance to pull up in months.
“Might as well,” she muttered.
---♦---
Night Silk, Master Thief and Royal Spymaster for High Princess Twilight Sparkle, Keeper of the Skies, The Archmage Ruler, Protector of the Tribes, Lady of Friendship, etcetera, etcetera, glared at the dossier in front of him.
What he saw wasn’t encouraging.
According to his report for the Princess, there was a powerful artifact—an Intellect Crystal—found in the northern mountains of the Crystal Empire. He hadn’t thought much of it, but when Twilight heard, she nearly jumped off her throne in shock. She ordered it to be secured immediately and brought to her castle to be thrown into a vault immediately.
He obeyed. After stealing some documents from the Princess’s bedside table when she didn’t lock it. Again.
He sent a few of his new Inquisitor agents—high-ranking guards with additional training to help them sneak into high-profile areas—up north, but none have reported back.
After getting a little suspicious, Night went to the Ladies Celestia and Luna’s mansion to try and pry additional information out of them, and they told him that while the Crystal was dangerous, it shouldn’t keep ponies from returning on their own.
And then Celestia made her recommendation.
“If sending your Inquisitors isn’t working,” she said, hiding her new coltfriend behind her, “maybe you need to send somepony with a different skill set. I know a mare that worked extensively with Mind magic all the time, and she would be incredibly useful to you.”
And that led him to this table, with this folder.
Sunset Shimmer, apprentice of Celestia.
Terrorist, thief, and runaway criminal.
Night reminded himself to send a security advisor to Princess Cadence when he could. When he was in Celestia’s employ, having a pony appear in the middle of her castle to steal an Element of Harmony was a worst-case scenario. Now that he was Spymaster, he had to ensure it didn’t happen to their allies again.
More importantly, this wasn’t the best sign that she should be trusted. Yes, Celestia vouched for the mare, but Night hadn’t seen more red flags in a profile since his own. This Sunset had actively tried to take over the country and threatened Princess Twilight’s life and then some.
But Celestia was vouching for him.
The door to his office opened, and he glanced back to see Twilight enter the room. “How are you doing?” she asked.
“Well, Celestia’s suggested a mare that might be able to do what we need, but I’m not sure she’s trustworthy.”
“Let me see?” she asked, sliding beside him. She pressed her neck up against him and glanced down at the folder. “Wait, Sunset? Sunset Shimmer?”
“The mare that threatened your life and stole the Element of Harmony? Yes,” Night Muttered. “I’m not sure why Celestia would—”
“Why didn’t I think of that?”
Night paused before looking at the Princess. “Pardon?”
“Oh, Sunset’s great! She’s got the perfect skill set to work with an Intellect Crystal. She should still have the enchanted journal I gave her. I can get her here in a day.”
Night blinked. “Did I miss something? The folder said she’s a terrorist.”
“She was. For a bit. But ‘terrorist’ is maybe a little strong of a word.”
Night blinked.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it later. The point is, Sunset’s perfect for the job. I’ll call her for a morning meeting, and we can brief her on the situation.”
Night sighed before setting down the folder. “So, you’re friends with the mare that stole your Element of Harmony? How fast did this happen?”
“Well, about three days or so,” she said.
Night sighed.
“She did get blasted by the Elements if it helps,” she said, giving him a smile.
“Having a magical beam hit the moral reset button does help, I guess.”
Twilight used her wing to pull him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go get dinner. I’ll contact Sunset in the morning.”
Night nodded and set the folder on his desk before leaving his office behind. “So, is it just the two of us again?” Night asked.
“Spike and Raven are planning a dedication to a new orphanage,” Twilight said. “No doubt somepony in the audience will ask about the Inquisitor Program, so they’re trying to prepare a few flashcards with the best response and then a decent deflection.”
“And you’re not doing that yourself?”
“As Princess, I have to delegate. It’s a lesson I have to keep re-learning.”
The smile on her face said something very different.
“Princess, you really shouldn’t give me so much attention. As Spymaster, I’m supposed to be in the shadows and ignored. Especially since the Inquisitor program is as young as it is, we don’t want the press making this a bigger deal than it already is with rumors about favoritism going around.”
Twilight frowned. “It’s dinner, Night. What’s the matter with that?”
“Nothing, Princess. The problem is more that it’s dinner with just me.”
“And?” she said, starting to look upset.
He inwardly grimaced. “We just… don’t need that kind of rumor at the moment,” he said. “We can try later.”
Twilight frowned. “Fine,” she muttered.
Night gave her a gentle smile, hoping that would buy him some time.
“Time for what?” a part of him wondered.
He wasn’t an idiot. He knew she was trying to get him along, to take him on makeshift dates and start a real relationship, and he wanted that too. He flirted with that idea when he and Twilight were stealing from thieves, but something...happened.
He wasn’t sure what or why, but something happened. It wasn’t okay anymore, for reasons he wasn’t sure about. Something changed as he stepped from the darkness into the light, and a part of him hated it.
“Well, as soon as you call her, we can brief her on the situation.”
Twilight nodded, but Night still felt he hadn’t improved his situation.
Sunset woke to a buzzing by her ear. Her head popped up, and she glanced around but didn’t see the usual glow of her phone screen. She fumbled for the phone and found it before pulling it open, only to blind herself to the light.
Blinking, Sunset forced herself to stare at the brilliant screen until she could read the time and blinked at the awful, pre-6 am time. “Why?” she mumbled, wondering what possible reason her phone would have for waking her when her alarm wasn’t set for another twenty-five minutes.
The buzzing sounded again; this time, her brain was awake enough to know it wasn’t the phone.
She stared at the device in her hand for another half-a-minute, before her body caught up, and she set it down again. She glanced around again, searching for whatever was making the noise, before she rolled out of bed and glanced around the living/dining/bedroom. Eventually, she went down from her loft to the computer desk, where her book, her magical journal, sat waiting for her.
It vibrated, buzzing the desk.
Her brain snapped awake. Princess Twilight was reaching out to her.
She rushed to the desk and pulled the book open to the latest page, where a new message appeared, penned in fresh ink.
Sunset! It read. I hope you’re doing well. I need to speak with you as soon as possible if you have time. We have a situation brewing here in Equestria and need your expertise. I know you still have a lot to take care of over there, and if you can’t manage, I need to know as soon as possible.
The message appeared short, but knowing Twilight’s habit of going on that only made the message even more important. Sunset’s mind ran through a dozen different scenarios, all trying to figure out what happened that made her the pony to go to, and the only thing she knew for sure was that she needed to get to Equestria as soon as possible.
Her body began to move. She grabbed a shirt, pants, and her phone as she dressed. Her fingers moved across the screen, and she dialed up her work.
No one answered because it wasn’t even six in the morning yet, but Sunset didn’t let that slow her down. She hopped into one of her boots, jumped into the kitchenette, and grabbed a slice of bread she didn’t have time to toast. Sunset stuffed it in her mouth and barely chewed the light breakfast before wrapping her hair into a ponytail.
Why were they called that, anyway?
Now dressed, basically fed, and ready to go, she grabbed her jacket, keys, and journal and only took enough time to lock her door behind her before rushing down the stairs for her car.
She slammed her keys into the ignition and started the car. It whined briefly before chugging to life, and Sunset took off, driving toward her old high school. She’d have to call Mr. Shine later, but she needed to start putting as much space between her and the—
Something in the car thumped, and the car slowed to a stop.
She’d made it maybe thirty feet from her house.
She sighed before yanking out the keys and pulling out her phone.
The alarm went off.
She rolled her eyes and shut it off before turning to her contacts. She’d have to get someone to help her get to the school. She flipped through her list, checking for anyone who could get her out.
Most of her friends were out of town. She couldn’t pick Rainbow Dash, Rarity, or Not-Princess Twilight. She’d have to come up with someone beyond her regular friend group.
Flash Sentry’s name appeared on her list.
She scrolled past as fast as she could. There were other options. There had to be.
---♦---
She spent nearly an hour going through her contact list. She called everyone she could.
Everyone but him.
And now she didn’t have a choice.
She stared at the name for a long time before she finally dialed.
It rang once.
Twice.
And just when she thought it would ring a third time and he wouldn’t answer her call, Flash picked up. “Sunset?”
“Hey, Flash.”
“Is there a reason you’re calling me at seven in the morning?”
Sunset sighed. “I received a message from Twilight. The Pony Princess one. I need to go see her, and my car broke down.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment. “Okay,” Flash eventually said. “Can I come with you?”
“What?”
“I’m asking if I can come. I’m driving you there, after all.”
“I…I don’t—I guess? Why do you want to come with me?”
“Not every day you get invited to a parallel universe.”
“Yes, but why woul—” she stopped. “Are you…still trying to get with Pony Twilight?”
“I don’t think it’s fair to call her ‘Pony Twilight,’” Flash said. “I mean, I met her first. The Twilight from this universe is the one that needs a modifier.”
Sunset cradled her forehead. “Flash, she’s a Princess. Like, never mind the fact that she’s from a different universe. She’s the ruler of a sovereign nation. ‘Out of your league’ isn’t even the right way of saying how unlikely you are to date her.”
“I didn’t say I’m trying to date her.”
“You didn’t say you weren’t.”
“Look, can you take me with you or not?”
Sunset sighed. “Fine. Fine, you can come. But don’t expect a lot out of Twilight, okay? It’s been years since you two talked.”
“And how do you know that?” Flash asked. “How do you know she hasn’t been coming by?”
“Because I have the magic journal that she can contact me through. If she came through the portal, she’d let me know.”
Flash sighed on the other side. “Fine. Are you still in your room-and-a-half apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Great, see you in a bit.”
She hung up and groaned. “Why?”
When the universe didn’t give her the answer she asked for, she called Mr. Shine again.
“Sunset, why are you calling so early? Did something happen?”
“Hey, Mr. Shine,” she said. “I know this is short notice, but I’m dealing with an emergency. I don’t know if I can come in today.”
“I see. Alright. Keep me posted, alright?”
“Will do.”
She hung up and sighed again before checking her apartment in her rearview mirror. She could head back in, get a proper breakfast, and care for her hair.
She marched back to her home with a sigh, walking back up the stairs and into her meager apartment, and began with a bowl of cereal. Sunset crunched away at the last wheat flakes and milk before moving to her bathroom. As Sunset squeezed back into the tiny room, she swore it broke the rules of physics, cramming everything into such a small space.
Sunset released the ponytail and brushed her hair properly, smoothing out tangles before they became knots and keeping it under control. “At least I won’t look like a mess when I appear before Princess Twilight. Cause that could only go well.”
With her hair taken care of, she considered jumping in the shower quickly, but her phone rang.
She saw Flash’s name appear on the screen and answered. “Yes?”
“I’m outside. You weren’t in your car.”
“I decided to clean up a bit more. I kind of jumped out of bed when I got the summons. I know Twilight wouldn’t care much, but I still have to give her some basic respect. If I have to take my time getting there, I might as well look like I spent it getting ready.”
“That’s a fair point, I suppose. Anyway, I’m here.”
“Be down in a second,” she said, hanging up before removing her shirt to wash herself from the sink. It wouldn’t be the same as a proper shower, but it would help.
Once she washed and had a short trip down memory lane from when she first arrived in the human world, she dressed again and moved downstairs. She grabbed everything again and saw Flash’s old, refurbished, orange-red convertible.
He nodded to her, dressed in a button-down shirt, his old jacket, and a pair of khakis.
“What’s with the look?” she asked, getting in.
“What do you mean?”
“You hate button-downs. You’d told me you’d rather be strangled by a tie than wear button-downs.”
“You were the one who said we should look nice,” he said, pulling away from the curb to make the way toward the school.
“After you already got here,” she noted, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to impress—”
And that was as far as she got before Flash floored it. Sunset’s voice was drowned out by the rushing wind around her, making speaking nearly impossible. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that Flash resorted to such an old trick. He used to do this a lot back when she nagged him during…well, when they were “dating.”
Sunset did her best not to glare at him, and he slowed back to a reasonable speed. She glanced over at him, and he had the decency to grimace at least. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Old habits.”
“We all make mistakes,” she said, although it rang a little hollow to herself. Her mistakes were worse than Flash’s by a long shot.
They didn’t speak for a while, instead letting an awkward silence hang over them. Sunset hated the silence, but it felt better than actually talking to the young man driving.
After a moment that stretched on a bit too long, Flash spoke up. “So, will we have to wait around for the portal to open up, or…?”
“Twilight rigged some machinery to it,” Sunset said. “She’s able to force it on and off these days. I just need to write to her to let her know we’re here, and we’ll be able to jump across.”
“Cool,” Flash said. “Cool.”
The awkward silence pressed in again.
“As for the cross itself, there’s a couple of things you’ll need to know,” Sunset said, caving just to fill the quiet. “First, we’ll want to come in on all fours. You can go in on your feet, but it feels weird once you get on the other side, and you might fall.”
“Got it,” he said with a nod.
“Second, the clothes you’re wearing will disappear. They’ll be back when we get back.”
“So I’m wearing this for nothing?” Flash asked, pointing at the shirt he hated.
Sunset nodded. Flash frowned before unbuttoning the shirt, revealing a t-shirt beneath it.
Sunset smirked.
The oppressive silence pressed in again, but Sunset had nothing else to say that she could use to keep it at bay. It washed over them both, smothering them in the quiet she couldn’t stand.
Luckily, the ride didn’t last much longer.
Flash’s car pulled into the high school’s parking lot, and Sunset gladly exited the car, happy to be out of an enclosed space with Flash.
She moved to the front of the school, where the old statue waited for them. Flash followed shortly behind. “Man, it’s a good thing it’s a Saturday,” he muttered. “I’d hate to have to explain this to Celestia.”
“Don’t say that too loud,” Sunset said. “Or you might wind up explaining to the other Celestia.”
“There’s a Pony Celestia?”
“Princess of Equestria. Raises the Sun and Moon. Or, just the sun these days, I guess.”
“That’s weird. How does a Principal mirror into a ruler?”
“How does a Princess mirror into a scientist?” Sunset asked back. “I talked to you about this. They’re not the same people.”
“Sure, but I thought that was more about individual experiences rather than actually changing who they are.”
“It still is,” she said. “I mean, Pony Twilight started out as a student in Celestia’s school. That’s about as close as she could get to being a scientist. That led her to be basically chosen to be the next Princess. It’s a matter of environment just as much as a person’s nature.”
“I suppose I can’t argue that.”
Sunset nodded before she opened her journal. She pulled a pen from her pocket and began to write. “Princess, we’re here. Flash is with me. We’re ready to cross over.”
---♦---
Night walked down the hallway of the Canterlot castle just behind the Princess. A pair of guards flanked them as they moved. Twilight carried a journal in her magical grip and walked with a smile toward a room that Night only saw occasionally.
Inside was a monstrosity of a mirror. Attached to a plethora of machinery, pipes, and a dozen other apparatus that Night couldn’t identify, this mirror could supposedly open a portal to a different reality, where a terrorist—or rather, an ex-terrorist—took refuge.
“She should be coming over in a bit,” Twilight said. “It’ll be so good to see her. It’s been ages.”
Night nodded through something in his gut that made him worry about this. They’d met and become friends before, so he shouldn’t have been too concerned about this.
But his gut didn’t cooperate.
Twilight smiled as she opened her book and wrote to Sunset about their request. “Sunset!” she dictated. “I hope you’re doing well. I need to speak with you as soon as possible if you have time. We have a situation brewing here in Equestria and need your expertise. I know you still have a lot to take care of over there, and if you can’t manage, I need to know as soon as possible.”
“How fast do you expect her to be?” Night asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Twilight said. “There’s a time dilation effect between both of our worlds. They occasionally run on a 1:1 second scale, but most of the time, it varies wildly. I also have a theory that the dilation is stronger the further away from the portal you are, but I don’t have a tangible way to prove that yet.”
Night nodded, only halfway understanding how that would work before giving up, and smirked. “That didn’t answer the question, Princess.”
She sighed. “It could be very soon, or it could be a while. We won’t know until—”
The journal in her magical grasp buzzed and glowed, and Twilight smiled before opening it. “They’re here,” she said with a smirk before frowning. “Wait, what?”
“What is it?”
She slammed the book shut and stared at him with wide eyes and ears pinned to the back of her head. “Nothing!” she said.
Night didn’t believe that, somehow.
“T-turn the portal on!” Twilight said before she passed the book to Night. “Here, take this. I need to…use the little filly’s room!”
And she rushed off, leaving himself and the two guards in the room with a giant, glowing portal that slowly came to life.
He watched her go, still partially confused before two new voices sounded behind him. The first—masculine—yelped in surprise, while the other—feminine—just sighed.
“I told you to get down on all fours, Flash.”
Night turned to see a pair of ponies, one a unicorn mare and the other a pegasus stallion that had fallen onto his back. “I thought I’d have more time, okay!”
With a mane of yellow and red, the mare rolled her eyes and helped the pegasus back on his hooves. “So, welcome to Equestria, I guess,” the mare said.
“Wow,” the pegasus said. “They are, actually, literal ponies.”
The mare glanced at him. “Yeah, did you think we called her ‘Pony Twilight’ for the fun of it?”
The pegasus shrugged and then fell face-first into the ground.
The mare groaned. “Use your wings, man. Fly, then you can use your hooves.”
“Wings?” he asked before checking his back.
The unicorn planted her face into her hooves.
Night cleared his throat. “If you’ll take a second to pause whatever lover’s quarrel you have going on there.”
Both ponies looked at him, then at each other, before awkwardly shifting away. “We’re,” the mare began, “not together.”
“Absolutely not,” the pegasus agreed.
Night raised an eyebrow but continued. “I assume you’re Sunset Shimmer?” he said, looking toward the mare.
“I am. I hope you don’t mind me asking who you are?”
“I am Night Silk, the Princess’s Royal Spymaster. The Princess wanted to greet you but is now…otherwise occupied. I hope you don’t mind me asking who your friend is?”
“Oh,” the pegasus said. “I’m Flash Sentry. Twilight and I, well, we’re good friends.”
The way he said that, with that smug smirk on his face, made Night’s mood turn sour. “Are you?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” Flash said. “We’ve been—”
The pop of teleportation was the only thing that announced Twilight as she appeared. “Hi, sorry, I just realized that not being here to meet you both is a terrible mistake!”
Sunset frowned. “Um, hi, Twilight.”
“Sunset, so good to see you!” she said before crossing the distance and pulling the mare into a hug.
Sunset’s confusion seemed to melt away as she greeted the Princess, and Night’s concern about the mare did lower slightly. Though now he did eye Flash with suspicion.
Flash noticed and glanced back. “Can I help you?”
“I doubt it,” Night said.
Flash stared at him but dropped it and turned to face Princess. “Twilight, it’s so good to see you!” he said, reaching for a hug.
And then landing on his face again.
“Um…Hi, Flash,” Twilight said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Good friend, huh?” Night thought to himself, smiling.
“So,” Twilight said, leading the conversation away from the pegasus’s latest faceplant. “Let’s talk about why you’re here. And then ask why you’re here Flash.”
“Oh, uh,” the pegasus began, “I came here to help.”
“You don’t even know what we’re doing,” Sunset said. “I don’t even know what you’re doing.”
“You’re going to find an Intellect Crystal,” Night said, stepping into the conversation.
Sunset’s head snapped over to the thief, and her eyes went wide. “We’re finding a what?”
Despite being told they needed to find an Intellect Crystal, Twilight gave them a quick tour. After all, there was much to cover in the seventeen years Sunset had been gone.
Twilight was now the High Princess and ruled all of Equestria. The fact that Celestia retired boggled Sunset’s mind almost as much as she had to find an Intellect Crystal.
Of all the possible things she should be called for, an Intellect Crystal?
Mind magic had a reputation for being insidious, and rightly so. Create Mind could make a memory in a person’s head, just long enough for them to wonder if it actually happened. Transform Mind could actively change the brain so that certain nerves in the brain fire to different stimuli. Control Mind offered direct control of the brain. Perceive Mind opened up a pony’s innermost thoughts, and Destroy could render a Pony comatose.
These were, of course, some of the more complicated spells, but Sunset knew them. Of course, she did. She knew everything from creating intrusive thoughts to a magical lobotomy, but that was all child’s play compared to an Intellect Crystal.
Unlike most gems, which could store a single Spell Matrix—sometimes two, if cut exceptionally well—an Intellect Crystal held an entire synthetic mind. That, by itself, wasn’t truly exceptional. Create Mind could be used to form the basis of consciousness, but they typically didn’t last long. The Crystals, however, were far beyond that. Each one had an innate understanding of whatever was in its “range,” this meant that just by existing in the world, it understood magic perfectly and could alter itself to exist in perpetuity.
With the knowledge of an Intellect Crystal, a mage could know any spell, no matter how complex or dangerous to cast. It made even the simplest of unicorns into an archmage and then some.
Sunset’s mind boggled at the idea that Twilight tracked one down.
“And this—” Twilight said, interrupting her thoughts, “is the official ceremonial balcony where I raise the sun and moon.”
“Man, that’s got to be an easy job,” Flash said.
Sunset blinked as she looked at him, followed by the Spymaster’s gaze. “What now?” he asked.
“As far as Ceremonial duties are concerned, that’s got to be super easy.”
Sunset groaned. “Flash.”
“What?”
“The sun doesn’t rise by itself here.”
The look on Flash’s face bounced between suspecting she was lying to him to trying to comprehend that sentence. “What?”
“Twilight literally raises the sun and moon every day and night.”
He blinked again. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to find some sort of lie. “Are you being actually serious?”
Sunset sighed. “Yes, I don’t know if I can make it any clearer.”
Flash blinked. “So you’re telling me that Twilight physically makes it day and night around here? What if she sleeps in?”
Twilight frowned. “Then the day starts late, and I need to make up the sunlight hours somehow.”
Flash glanced over at her.
Night spoke up. “Princess Twilight is one of the most powerful mages in Equestria. She raises the sun with her magical abilities every day. Before that, Princess Celestia raised the sun, and Princess Luna raised the moon. In fact, there’s a relatively famous bit of history where Luna did not lower the moon, leading to a bit of a rebellion.”
Flash blinked again. “I…you know what, I’m just going to stop talking.”
Sunset shook her head.
Night smirked.
“Okay, I think we’re going to end the tour,” Twilight said. “It’s…anyway. Let’s get to why you’re here.”
“An Intellect Crystal,” Sunset said, happy to move on to business. Apparently, the awkward followed her from Flash’s car and infected Twilight.
“Yes,” Night said, stepping forward. “We have reason to believe that there’s one in the mountains north of the Crystal Empire.”
“Alright, so why don’t you go get it?” Flash asked.
Night turned to him. “What happened to not talking?”
Flash glanced over at him, clearly annoyed.
“Stop getting on each other’s nerves, please,” Twilight said, exasperated.
Night looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it. “As you wish, Princess. We cannot ‘go get it,’ Flash Sentry, because if we do, we let ponies know that we want something in the mountains. Specifically, ponies that could do a lot of damage if they get a hold of it.”
“Okay, so what’s so dangerous about it?”
“It’s like an AI, Flash,” Sunset explained. “One that knows all the spells that ever existed and the most efficient way to cast them. If given enough energy, the crystal could replace Twilight in raising the sun and moon.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Or,” Sunset continued, “They could vaporize ponies completely or turn them into a mindless horde. It would take a little work, but with the Intellect Crystal, they would know how to make them and have the magic to get them whatever they needed to do that.”
Flash said nothing.
Twilight spoke up. “I saw an alternate timeline where a dictator used magic he knew to enchant helmets that forced obedience. With an Intellect Crystal, anyone could have the means to do the same without any magic at all.”
“Okay,” Flash said, “so we don’t want people to know, got it.”
“What’s worse,” Night said, speaking up again, “I have sent singular agents into the mountains to retrieve it, but I have lost contact with each one. Either they are freezing to death in the mountains looking for it, or something is actively stopping them.”
“And that is where you come in, Sunset,” Twilight said. “I can’t go, unfortunately. If something happened to me while I was in the Crystal Empire, it could lead to an international incident. I would like to go on another adventure, but the risk I could run into outweigh the good I could do. You’re the only other pony I know that knows all the Techniques and Forms, and so I’d like you to do it. I know you also specialized in Mind spells, which could be useful here.”
“The only one? Sunset asked. “What about Starlight, your other student?”
“Starlight…” Twilight began. “Starlight is mostly self-taught. She has the aptitude, but her spellwork can be sloppy. I need precision on this. I can call her in if I need to, but I’d prefer if you went.”
“I,” Sunset began, “I'm not in a good place to do this, Princess. My car just broke down, and I’ll have to pay for repairs, rent, and food. I need the job that I have to get this all taken care of.”
“Sunset, I won’t let you do this without a reward. I have gems and gold I can give you. I know the money won’t be worth as much, so I’m offering whatever you can sell. Jewelry, precious metals, whatever you need. Let me know how you want it, and I’ll pay several thousand bits worth.”
She hesitated.
“We had several different chests prepared,” Night said. “Each filled with the same monetary reward in different forms.”
Sunset sighed. She could get away with that. The bits she brought with her when she escaped into the mirror were enough to get her rent, food, and supplies for the first year the exiled student spent in the human world once she melted them down. If Twilight gave her a bunch of necklaces and bracelets, she could pawn them off for a decent price.
“I just got a new job, Princess. If I don’t show up, they’ll fire me, and I won’t have a job.”
“I’ll double the reward,” Twilight said.
She said it so causally.
Sunset took a second to think about it and grimaced. “I’ll… I’ll think about it, alright?”
Twilight nodded. “Please do. But I do need to know your answer quickly. If you can’t, I must send a message to Starlight immediately.”
Sunset nodded.
“In the meantime,” Twilight said. “Why don’t you spend the night? We have enough guest rooms that you can stay without any issues.”
“Thank you, Princess,” Sunset said.
Twilight nodded before getting the attention of one of the guards. “Please escort our guests to the prepared guest rooms. Make sure they are comfortable. I will Spike down to answer any questions they have.”
“Yes, Princess,” the guard answered before he turned smartly to Flash and Sunset. “If you will follow me.”
And Sunset followed him, thinking about how much money it would take for her to find an excellent job on the other side.
---♦---
Night walked through the castle’s hallways, staying at the Princess’s side. She kept her eyes forward while he glanced between the niches, corners, and all the other hiding places he could find. He did that out of habit, and thinking about it distracted him from the question he wanted to ask Twilight. Of course, it wasn’t his place to ask, not after how he’d treated her.
“You could have been nicer to Flash,” she said.
And the floodgates opened.
“Why, because he’s a ‘good friend?’”
Twilight bit her lip. “He’s a friend, Night. We never became serious, and if I’m honest, I mainly liked him because I was in the body of a teenager again and went a little colt-crazy. I barely know anything about him.”
“He doesn’t seem to think that’s the case,” Night said, trying to keep his temper under control.
“We parted suddenly,” Twilight said. “I didn’t really get a chance to say goodbye or tell him what we meant to each other.”
Night didn’t reply.
“It’s nothing to really worry about, Night, I promi—”
“No, you’re right. I’m sorry,” Night said, not looking at her.
He felt surprised by the words as they came out of his mouth, but they were honest.
“I…I wasn’t saying I was right, Night. I was apologizing for not letting you know.”
“It’s fine,” he said again. “Nothing to worry about.”
“So, you’re not mad?”
He was mad but wasn’t sure why. “No. It’s fine.”
She didn’t look like she believed him, but he could tell she wanted to. “Okay. I’m glad to hear that.”
Night nodded and continued on. It was okay, even if he hated the idea.
“What do you want for dinner?” Twilight asked.
“Food,” Night replied. “You know I don’t really have a preference.”
She nodded. “I still like to ask.”
---♦---
Sunset lay on a bed so soft she caught herself falling asleep three times. She was a little tired, but the thoughts buzzing through her head kept her awake despite the bed.
Twilight just offered her exactly what she needed. Sunset had the opportunity to start again in the Human world for a second time. She could start a whole new fortune with the money Twilight offered her, and she wouldn’t even need to spend most of it on bribes again. This was her perfect chance, and she’d have to sacrifice her job at Spitshine.
Sunset’d only been there for a few weeks. She hadn’t gotten past her probationary period, and Mr. Shine said she’d have to work as scheduled for three months before using her paid time off. Mr. Shine might let her take the time, but he hired her so that she could work. He might not take her back if she disappeared for too long.
The time dilation didn’t help. Even if Sunset knew how long she’d be gone, she still didn’t know how long it’d take her in the human world. She didn’t have a single clue what her timetable would be.
A knock sounded on her door.
Sunset picked her head off the pillow. “Is that you, Spike?”
“No,” Flash’s voice said, coming from the other side of her guest bedroom door. “It’s me instead.”
She got up and opened the door with magic.
It felt so good to have that back.
“Yes?” she asked as Flash stepped in.
“Just had a couple of questions,” he said, stepping into the room. “Hope you don’t mind me asking you.”
“I guess it’ll give my brain a break from everything I’m thinking about.”
“Yeah, real quick. Are you okay?” Flash asked, glancing at her. “Are you short on cash or…?”
“No, I have money,” Sunset said. “I’m just having trouble keeping a job. I don’t seem to like any of them long enough to stay, but that’s on me.”
“Okay,” Flash said. “Well, if you need anything, I can help. Just let me know, okay?”
Sunset smiled. “Will do, Flash. Thanks. So what are your questions?”
“Okay, so…I sort of knew magic was a thing, but how much of a thing is it?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does the whole world run on magic? Do children in the streets know most spells? Is there a school for magic kids? What?”
“Most of that is true,” Sunset said. “Only Unicorns can cast spells, but all ponies can access some magic. Pegasi, like you, can manipulate the weather by pushing clouds around and harnessing lightning. Earth ponies can make things grow better and make for good healers. Unicorns are the only ones that can direct their magic through a spell, though, like I said.”
“And the world actually runs on it, given that apparently, orbits aren’t a thing,” Flash said.
“More or less,” Sunset said. “We haven’t gotten to space in this dimension, so I can’t say for sure. Maybe we just rotate slowly, and so Celestia—or rather, Twilight—speeds it up so we don’t freeze to death at night.”
“Okay,” Flash said, nodding. “I guess that checks out. What about the magic school?”
“That’s Celestia’s school. I mentioned it earlier before we came in.”
“Right, that makes sense,” he said before blushing. “I should probably take more of that at face value.”
“I’m not going to lie to you about this, Flash. I’m…better at that now.”
He nodded. “Right, sorry.”
Again that awkward silence began to seep in. Sunset mentally cursed. How could she be so confident about her transformation everywhere else, to anyone else? All except Flash.
She tried. She spent so much time and effort trying to breach that wall Flash raised after they broke up. Sunset tried to be a friend, tried to be better, but it didn’t seem to matter to Flash.
“Because we hurt him the most.”
“Anyway,” Flash said, killing the quiet. “Next question: what’s the plan for you? Are you going after this AI jewel?”
Sunset sighed. “I don’t know,” she said. “I probably should. The money would help me with my bills, but I still have a job back in the human world that I can’t really afford to lose.”
“Could you afford it after being paid, though?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Then, why not? At worst, you spend a few weeks finding a new job, but you’ll still be able to pay your bills and fix your car. At best, you can get money to pay for everything and start saving up. Not to mention you could put together an emergency fund. I don’t see why you wouldn’t.”
Sunset sighed. He made a point, unfortunately. “Okay, so maybe I will. I’m still going to think about it, though.”
“Great,” Flash said. “Also, how long is it going to take?”
“What the job?”
“No,” he said, annoyance crossing his face, “getting used to this body. I have a tail that I don’t know what to do with, and the lack of pants makes me feel a little exposed every time there’s a draft.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “That one’s on you, Flash. No one else can deal with it but you.”
---♦---
Spike the dragon called them for dinner. After Flash got used to the idea that the beagle he knew in the human world was an honest-to-goodness dragon with fiery breath, wings, and all, they went to the dining hall, where Twilight and a few advisors waited.
Night was there too.
Flash glared at him as he sat further down the table, with Sunset on one side and the dragon on the other. Night had the spot to Twilight’s left, while Sunset sat on the right, with another light gray unicorn and a burly blue pony without a horn or wings, the Earth pony he heard about.
The dinner before them mainly consisted of vegetables, bread, fruits, mushrooms, eggs, and grass. Quiches filled with rosemary, tomato, and carrot; noodle salads with shredded cabbage and parsley; braised sweet potatoes covered in a honey sauce; fruit shish kebabs covered in cinnamon and more lay before the seven gathered ponies, waiting to be eaten.
Flash felt compelled to avoid the grass.
“So,” Twilight said. “I don’t mean to rush you, Sunset, but I need to know. Are you going to take the job? Because if not, I must send a letter to Starlight immediately.”
Sunset grimaced but sighed. “Yes, I’ll do the job. I’ll have to head back through the portal to contact my boss to let him know, but I’ll do it.”
Twilight smiled. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll prepare some basic supplies, but if you need anything else, please let me know.”
“If you’re the one making the list, Twilight, I’m sure you covered everything,” Sunset replied with a smile of her own.
Flash bit into some bread and was surprised to find it actually a fried head of cauliflower.
Twilight then turned to Flash, and he gave her his full attention. He has a lot of time to catch up on, after all.
“Are you going with her, Flash?”
He opened his mouth to reply to the negative before Twilight continued.
“After all, I can’t think of any other reason for you to be here.”
“I can’t come by and say hello?” Flash said.
Silence met his comment.
Night raised an eyebrow across the table, and the two other advisors leveled curious stares at him.
And Twilight looked uncomfortable. “Well, I suppose you can,” she said.
The Princess’s squirming felt weird, and he stumbled to recover. “It’s fine; seriously, yes, I will help.”
Sunset turned to him, and he shot her a pleading look. “Please don’t call me out again. Please!”
Sunset stayed quiet, and Twilight looked far more comfortable. “Oh, wonderful. I make sure to double your supplies.”
“Thank you, Princess,” Sunset said.
Twilight nodded. “I’ll get you tickets to the Crystal Empire ready for you. I have to say, I’m rather impressed that you volunteered to help, Flash.”
Flash nodded and wondered why he just did that. “Of course, it’s only fair that I help your world since you’ve helped mine.”
“Hey, Mr. Shine,” Sunset said as he answered her phone call.
“Sunset, what’s happened? Is everything okay on your end?” Mr. Shine asked.
“It’s my grandmother,” Sunset lied. “It’s not looking good for her, and she says she wants to see me. I don’t know when I’ll be back because grandma wanted everything to be taken care of quickly, so I might be stuck in an inheritance meeting.”
“Well, I hope it doesn’t come to that.”
“Neither do I, but she’s been sick for a while.”
“Okay, take your time. We’ll be waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Mr. Shine. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“Take care, Sunset,” he said before hanging up.
“So?” Flash asked, leaning against his car as he got off his own phone call.
“He’s okay with me going. He thinks my grandmother passed.”
“The classic grandmother excuse,” Flash said. “It works great, but only twice.”
“So I’ve heard,” Sunset said. “What about you? Did you get in touch with Principal Celestia?”
“I did,” he said. “She’s okay with me leaving my car here, but only on the condition that we stop just jumping across the portal here.”
“Why?”
“She apparently retiring at the end of this year, and she’s not explaining the whole door-to-another-dimension-in-the-statue thing to the new Principal.”
“Wow. Never thought I’d see the day Principal Celestia would retire.”
“Right? Feels wrong somehow.”
The quiet began to press in again.
“So, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Sunset said, just to break the quiet before it could take hold.
“Shoot,” he said.
“Why are you coming with me?”
Flash’s smile instantly looked strained. “What? I mean, it only makes sense, right? After all, Twilight saved my world before, right? I could do her a favor.”
Sunset stared at him with a deadpan glance. “You’re still a terrible liar, Flash.”
Flash frowned. “I get past most people.”
“Sure, but I know you better, and I’m looking at your face.”
He rolled his eyes. “Look, Princess Twilight very obviously didn’t want me to stick around. She probably wasn’t expecting me to be here or something, but she didn’t want to deal with it, so I gave her an out.”
“So you’re not actually going with me?” Sunset asked before immediately regretting it.
“No, I am,” Flash said. “You know I always follow through on stuff like that.”
“That wasn’t an invitation, Flash. Besides, I don’t know if you should go. We’re heading into one of the most hostile environments of Equestria, and you’ll be in a body you’re unfamiliar with. It is not a good idea.”
“Sure, but I know what I’m doing. I’ve only gone through scouts for most of my life. I know how to make a campsite for cold-weather environments, start a fire with a single match, deal with hypothermia, and identify edible plants. I joined ROTC and then quit because it was just discipline training. I probably know more about what you’re getting into than you do.”
She didn’t have an argument against that, and that annoyed her. Sunset remembered the one Summer when Flash just disappeared for a week, only to find out he’d gone into the woods for some “time apart” with nothing but a hatchet and fifty feet of rope.
“And how much can you do without fingers?” she asked, wiggling her own at him.
“You have magic,” he said. “I can tell you how to do anything that requires fine motor control, and then we have the best of both. Besides, if I can learn some pegasus magic, I might be able to make better conditions in an emergency. Pegasus magic doesn’t need spells, right?”
Sunset frowned.
That was a good argument.
“Okay, so you are actually going with me for some reason, but you’ve at least have an idea of what you’re doing. It could be worse, I suppose.”
“You make it sound like I’m going to get in your way.”
Sunset frowned again. “I don’t mean it that way. I just don’t like dragging other people into life-threatening adventures. If things go wrong, it’s my fault, right?”
“I mean, I know it’s dangerous,” Flash said. “But it’s also the kind of danger that I’m familiar with.”
“And I appreciate that, Flash. It’s just…I don’t know if it’s the right move.”
“Well, you don’t need to worry about whether it’s the right move. I do. And I’m already all in.”
Sunset shook her head. “You know, your dedication to bad ideas got you into this.”
“What do you mean, dedication to bad ideas?”
“Where to start?” she said before counting on her fingers. “Dating me, trying to date a Princess from another universe, the fedora you wore all junior year, ooh, and the aforementioned JROTC.”
Flash glared at her. “You had to bring up the trilby.”
“And your insistence at calling the hat a trilby.”
“That’s because that’s what it is. Fedora’s are lower cut and have deeper creases in them. I know because I stopped wearing that stupid hat right after I learned the difference and that trilbies were women’s apparel.”
“I rest my case, your honor.”
Flash sighed. “Sustained. Now can we move on?”
Sunset smiled. “I guess we’re done on this side. We should head back to Equestria before the time difference messes things up even more than they already are.”
“By the way, which way does that time difference work? Do we stay longer on this side than that one or the other way around?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “According to the Equestrian calendar, I left them almost twenty years ago. It’s been thirteen years on this side but six years since Twilight was last over. Over there, it’s only been four. So it fluctuates, best I can tell.”
“Great, so we’re not even dealing with consistent time shenanigans.”
“Never,” Sunset replied.
“Glad to know physics doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Sunset said, approaching the portal. “It just chooses not to apply sometimes.”
“That sounds like it doesn’t matter.”
“Whatever, Flash,” she said and stepped inside.
She appeared on the other side, landing on all four hooves. Flash followed shortly behind, also walking in on all fours. “Got the landing this time?” she asked.
“You know it,” he replied.
Night waited for them. “Back already? You just left.”
“It didn’t take much time for us to do what we needed,” Sunset explained. “Is our stuff ready?”
“Not just yet,” Night replied. “You’ll both receive packs with enough supplies for a month. You will have tools to help locate magic and climb the rocky surfaces you’ll encounter. You’ll also have some fuel and firestarters, among other things.”
Flash nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll look them over and check to see if we need anything else.”
Night nodded but did give Flash a quick look over.
Sunset walked past them both. “I’m going to find Twilight and get those tickets. We’ll head out as soon as possible.”
---♦---
They left that afternoon.
Flash checked over the bags and gave his approval, along with a pair of heavy coats that would provide essential protection from the cold. He did ask for some more rope, a handful of extra blankets, and a few tarps, but other than that, he appeared content.
Twilight then led them to the train.
Flash found the city of Canterlot somehow strangely familiar. The fantastical architecture should have thrown him for a loop, but somehow he could recognize the individual buildings.
That was Donut Joe’s Donuts and Discounts, wholly different and somehow identical. Flash knew that if he walked in, he’d find Donut Joe working quietly like always. A strange sense of knowing exactly where he was and being completely lost followed him.
The train, however, only made him think of how weird this Equestria was.
The train was pink, for one. It was a pink locomotive that looked like it should have come out of the 1800s after being spray-painted by a six-year-old girl. The cars behind the train were not built with the aerodynamics that he was used to from his “modern” sensibilities, but considering how much of a box the locomotive was, it shouldn’t have made much of a difference.
“This is pretty weird,” Flash said.
“What? The train? What’s weird about it?”
“It’s pink.”
“Okay, and?”
“Who paints a train pink?”
She looked at him like he had grown a second head. “Trains are painted on your side too.”
“Sure, red, green, blue sometimes, but never pink.”
“What’s wrong with pink?”
“Well…” Flash began, “Um…nothing, I guess. It’s…it’s just weird.”
Sunset shook her head. “Come on, we don’t have much more time. The train leaves in thirty minutes.”
Flash sighed and grabbed his bag, pulling it behind him as they climbed into the car. “Princess couldn’t spring for nicer seats? Or at least a private car?”
“We’re trying to be subtle, Flash,” Sunset said.
“I know,” he said. “Complaining builds character.”
“What?” she asked.
“If you’re complaining, then it means that you’re doing something difficult that you don’t want to do,” Flash said with a smirk. “So you’re building character.”
Sunset blinked as she stared at him. “But…but if you’re complaining about it, then you’re not actually….”
Flash looked back up at her, smiling the whole way.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. “I hate your humor sometimes.”
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You hate that you fall for it nine times out of ten.”
Sunset sighed again.
Flash chuckled a bit before he stepped into the cabin. “Better get used to it, Sunset. I’m sure we have a long ride ahead of us.”
Sunset stared at him as she dropped her bag next to his. “I hate that you’re right.”
Flash nodded before opening his bag and adjusting a few things. The small hatchet he asked for, he removed from the bag entirely. “How do ponies feel about blades being openly carried?” He asked.
Sunset looked over at him. “They’ll either give you looks or think you’re involved with the guard.”
Flash shrugged and strapped the hatchet to the outside of the bag with some thin rope that one of the castle servants insisted would be strong enough for climbing. “Sunset, could you help me with a knot?”
“Hm? Oh, sure, I suppose. What do you need me to do?”
“Just snake this end through here and then here. Tight, but not too tight. I want to be able to get the hatchet quickly.”
“Sure, I guess. But do you really think that getting the ax out of the bag would take too long?”
“It’s not just that. It’s the cold too. If I’m too cold to move my fingers…” Flash trailed off. “Okay, since I’m not good with my hooves, I can’t count on them to get what I need in a survival situation. If I need something to gather firewood or whatever, and I need the ax, having it ready makes it easier for me to get to it without wasting time.”
“Fair enough,” Sunset said, finishing the knot.
Flash tested it a few times, reaching for the hatchet and pulling it free each time. Finally, he nodded. “That’s exactly what we need.”
“Good,” Sunset said. “Now, get some sleep. It’s an overnight ride, and if we’re going to jump straight up to the mountains, then we need to be rested.”
Flash smiled. A part of him wanted to joke about how she was still telling him what to do after they broke up, but he stopped himself. “Sounds like a plan.”
Sunset nodded and lay down on the seat.
Flash turned to face the window and sighed.
He still couldn’t be himself around her. He still couldn’t go back to normal.
Flash knew she was trying. She’d done everything to put her old self behind her. She’d suffered through enough. Yet he couldn’t treat her the way she wanted. He couldn’t let go, even though he wanted to. He wanted to let those moments in the past fall away. To let them go.
But he couldn’t.
And she didn’t deserve that.
---♦---
Night watched as the train’s lone trail of smoke disappeared over the horizon. On it, Flash Sentry—Twilight’s “Good Friend”— sat traveling north toward the Crystal Empire.
His mind wandered through a thousand thoughts as he watched the evening pass. Not least was the idea that he became incredibly pensive since he joined Twilight’s staff.
When he was living on the streets, even in Celestia’s employ, he never spent much time thinking about his standing. He always knew he was a thief and thought he’d only stay a thief. Night shouldn’t be here, where ordinary people wanted to stand. He figured he would stay out of sight in the shadows, gutters, and alleys.
When Twilight offered him the job, he saw his chance to take place in the light. It would have been his chance to join the normal ponies in their world, yet now that he was here, he felt wrong.
Night had wanted to step into the world of light for years, yet, now that he was here…he didn’t know what to do.
No, he knew what he had to do. He had to do the job Twilight gave him, but that felt hollow. What he got wasn’t enough, and he didn’t know why.
“Hey, Night!”
Night turned to see Spike walk in. “Spike. What can I do for you?”
“Be a friend and hang out without worrying about doing stuff for me,” the dragon said without slowing down and leaning against the railing. “Seriously, you’ve gotten so cautious lately. We’re friends, so let’s act like it.”
Night sighed. “You’re right, of course.”
Spike shrugged. “Don’t say that too loud. It’ll get to my head.”
Night shook his head.
“You seem to be staring off into the distance a lot lately. Is there a reason why?” the dragon asked.
“I don’t know,” Night replied. “I’m trying to figure that out.”
“That’s fair. Have you figured out reasons that aren’t the answer?”
Night thought about that for a second. “I think.”
“It’s not my fault is it?” Spike asked, keeping a faint smile on his face.
“No, no. It’s no one else’s fault but mine.”
Nobody spoke for a long second before Spike slowly nodded. “Well, Twilight will be happy to know it’s not her fault.”
Night glanced over at the dragon. “Twilight?”
“Yeah, she’s been worried that she made you mad somehow for a bit now. I knew you weren’t the kind of pony to hold something over someone without letting them know.”
Night nodded. “Give her my apologies, then.”
“‘Give her my apologies?’” Spike repeated. “You’ve been spending too much time around Azure. But regardless, you’ll have to give her your apologies yourself. I’m here on my own. You don’t need to know what the problem is, but you do need to let Twilight know it’s not her. Because she’s going to start worrying about it, and she doesn’t need that on top of ruling the kingdom.”
Night nodded. “I get it. I won’t worry her.”
Spike shook his head. “No, I don’t think you did get it,” he said, staring Night in the eye. “I said she doesn’t need to worry about what she’s done to you. She’ll still worry about you, but that’s her right as a friend. What I want you to do is to let her know it’s not her fault. Do that for me, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you out with what’s going on.”
Night glanced at him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because Celestia and Luna’s jobs of therapist and Pony Resources had to go to someone and I don’t have a degree in psychology.”
Night blinked. “Wouldn’t…wouldn’t the therapist be the one who’d try helping me?”
“Sure, but we haven’t hired her yet, and I’m not going to let my friend suffer alone in the meantime.”
Night chuckled. “Thanks, Spike. You’re a good friend.”
“It comes with the territory of being in the supporting cast for eleven plus years.”
“Supporting cast?” Night asked. “You’re second billing at least.”
“I wish,” Spike said. “When all your friends are the Elements of Harmony, you’re lucky to get some lines as an extra.”
“You’ve got some chapters in the friendship book.”
“And none of those were my better moments,” he said. “Ponies either think I’m barely competent or, if they’re from the Crystal Empire, they think I’m a hero. There’s no in-between.”
“Being thought of as a hero isn’t that bad.”
Spike smirked. “No, no it’s not.”
They stood quietly for a little longer before Spike spoke again. “We have a Council of Friendship in a few days, are you going to be there?”
“Sure,” he said.
Spike nodded. “Great.”
“Are you actually going to ask Rarity out this time?”
“As long as I don’t chicken out again.”
“You’ve got to pull yourself together, man.”
“Look, I know, alright? The problem is I sort of grew out of the crush, but the nervousness keeps hitting me every time I try.”
“You can do it, Spike.”
He nodded. “I know. I’ll get there. I don’t know if it’ll be this time, or later, but I will do it.”
“Do you want me to hold you to that?”
Spike rubbed his chin. “Not just yet. If I don’t ask her this time, or the next, then I want you.”
“The next one is over a month away.”
“Yes,” Spike said. “But it’ll only be the second time I’ll get to see her.”
Night shook his head. “Alright, Spike you have a deal.”
“Well struck,” the dragon said. “Now let’s go get dinner.”
Flash wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he heard the name “Crystal Empire,” but a giant gemstone tower shooting up from the middle of a frozen wasteland did tick a box he didn’t even know he had.
Something in the air, a force he didn’t have a word for, left his feathers standing on edge, a sensation that felt just as strange as the lack of fingers. That force also seemed to carry warmth, as everything around the tower for a mile out in every direction felt no colder than a spring day.
“This’ll make a great base of operations,” Flash said. “It’ll let us warm up and everything.”
“If we can get back here,” Sunset agreed. “But I don’t know if we’ll be able to cross the distance from the mountain’s base back to here.”
“If we can afford the time, I’d suggest it. The warmth around here will be essential for us in warding away frostbite. Not to mention a great place to restock. We do have money to restock, right?”
Sunset nodded. “Twilight gave us some bits to spend, and she’s sent a message to the Princess here to open a line of credit if needed.”
Flash nodded. “Can the Princess get us funds without the Emperor’s approval, or does this universe just run on Princesses?”
“Mostly Princesses,” Sunset said. “I’ll be honest; it was really weird learning that kings and queens were the norms in the human universe.”
Flash nodded. “I guess that’s fair.”
The train pulled into the station, brakes hissing as it stopped, and Flash grabbed his bag.
Or would have if he had fingers.
He sighed before he used his wings this time.
Somehow, he could bend his feathers as though they had joints, and while they weren’t a replacement for his fingers, they were something he could use.
Pulling his pack on, Flash exited the train and onto the station platform, with Sunset following close behind.
“Welcome to the Crystal Empire, Flash,” she said.
The young man-turned-pegasus glanced around at the crowd around him as they walked between buildings carved from massive gemstones. The ponies here didn’t seem too dissimilar to the ones in Canterlot, but they did seem a little friendlier. They smiled and waved and gave gentle hellos to those around them. So far, this new city has looked reasonably pleasant.
“Last time I was here, I was trying to steal Twilight’s Element of Harmony,” Sunset said as she walked down the street. “I didn’t even know it wasn’t Canterlot till I passed by a window.”
“That must have been a surprise,” Flash said.
“Especially since the Crystal Empire didn’t exist before I left.”
That caused Flash to pause. “You’re saying they built this whole place in about ten years?”
“No,” she said. “The whole city was sealed away through magic. The rest of the Empire fell to pieces not long after that. There was no Crystal Empire when I first came.”
Flash blinked. “Huh.”
They continued to walk for a bit, taking in the sights as they made their way to the city’s northern end.
“See that mountain?” Sunset asked, pointing.
“Yes.”
“That’s Mount Everhoof and where we should start our search.”
“Is Everhoof the largest mountain in this world too?”
“That’s not a bad guess.”
“Great,” he said as he looked up at the massive mountainside. “How sure are you that it’s up there?”
“Magic has a complex connection to physical locations,” Sunset explained. “It has much to do with leylines and how they affect geographical features and vice versa. The point is that I’d bet it’s on Everhoof because it’s the tallest mountain.”
Flash thought about asking what she meant by that, but someone called as he opened his mouth.
“Flash! Flash Sentry, what are you doing out here?”
His head snapped around to see where the voice was coming from, and he found himself staring down a pair of ponies dressed in armor. “Aren’t you supposed to be on duty?”
Flash blinked. “What?”
“What happened?” One of the ponies asked. “I saw you in gear this morning, so I know you didn’t forget.”
“I…uh…” Flash began before looking over at Sunset in desperation.
She glanced back, with obviously no clue as to what to do.
“Did something happen?” the other guard asked. “You’re not dumb enough to go AWOL. Did the CO let you go or something?”
Flash’s brain scrambled for thought, any response to give these two ponies that thought he might be in the guard. He knew that there might be a mirror version of himself, but he’d never thought if he’d run into anyone that knew him.
“Flash, is something wrong?” the first guard asked. “Did…did you get discharged?”
“No, no,” Flash said, trying to come up with something to say to these ponies. “I just, uh…” he began.
Sunset glanced between the three of them and took a deep breath.
---♦---
Sunset watched as the situation spun wildly out of control.
The chances of running into Flash’s counterpart were low, yet somehow, she’d done precisely that. She didn’t know enough about Pony Flash to give a decent answer or alibi for her Flash, but she had something else she could offer here.
Her horn rang, and she began to weave her spell. Her Create Mind spell didn’t have a name, as most Mind spells were crafted by Starswirl the Bearded or Clover the Clever in the pre-unification days. Yet, even though it didn’t have a name, Sunset knew precisely what it did.
Sunset planted a thought in both of the guards’ heads. A half-remembered memory that both guards “witnessed” earlier. Flash met them in a fuzzy hallway and let them know he had a special mission ahead, a secret one where he had to escort a high-profile VIP.
The dawning look of realization hit both guards simultaneously.
“Uh, I mean, excuse me, citizen! You…I thought you were someone else! My mistake. Best of luck, sir!”
And with that, both guards walked away, only glancing back at the two out of sheer curiosity.
Flash blinked as the guards left, and he turned to Sunset. “What just happened?”
Sunset sighed. “Me backsliding, that’s what.”
“What?”
“I used magic to plant a memory in their heads,” she said. “One where they saw you tell them you had a critical, undercover mission to go on. If I’m right, they thought you were on it right now, and they needed to make distance.”
“You can do that?”
She smirked. “Where do you think I learned to manipulate ponies, Flash? Do you think I appeared in Canterlot High with a psychopathic understanding of how to manipulate everyone around me?”
Flash stared at her for a long second. “You didn’t need to put it that way,” he said.
“No, but let’s go. There’s a chance they’ll run into the other Flash, and then we’ll have much more to explain.”
Sunset began moving, and Flash followed behind, heading for the northern side of the city.
“So…are we not going to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“About…” Flash trailed off.
He didn’t say anything. Instead, they walked to the city’s edge without stopping, and Sunset mentally thanked him for that.
Sunset glanced toward the city’s boundary, where snow fell gently but collected into thick, knee-high banks. Through those banks and up the mountain slopes was a magical artifact that could unmake the world if given enough time. And with that magical artifact was the money she needed to thrive in the human world.
She pulled the heavy coat tighter around herself and glanced over at Flash. “Are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” he said.
Sunset stared into the snow. “Any last-minute checks?” she asked.
“I’m pretty sure we covered everything,” Flash said. “Other than maybe checking in with the ruling Princess to make sure we get those funds cleared.”
She stared out into the snow for another few seconds before nodding. “Let’s do that,” she said, turning away from the snow.
She wasn’t sure why, but the thought of having more time soothed her soul in ways she couldn’t explain.
So, despite walking past the giant citadel of crystal, they made their way back.
“Question,” Flash said as they got closer. “The ponies guarding the Princess will probably also recognize me. So what do we do when that happens?”
“That is a great question,” she said. “I mean, I could try reading their minds for some passcodes and then alter memories to get past, but that’s messing with more minds than I’m comfortable with.”
There was silence for a moment. “Or I guess I could sit at a restaurant or a hotel.”
Sunset winced. “Yes. You could do that as well.”
That was so much better than what she suggested. Sweet Celestia, she didn’t have magic back for twenty-four hours, and she was already falling back into her old habits of using mind magic to get her way.
Coming back to Equestria was a mistake. She’d done better at Canterlot High, but when she had magic there, it could only look into memories, not change them. Now she had the power again, which proved to be too much.
“Sure, Flash. Go ahead and get a table around here. I’ll meet back up with you.”
“Will do. That place over there looks good,” Flash said, getting her attention by pointing at a building that looked like a medieval tavern before trotting his way over.
Sunset watched him go, reminded herself to try and help him learn to fly once they were out in the wilderness, and then turned to stare up at the palace in the city’s center.
She approached the towering structure and stepped up to one of the guarded gates.
As expected, the guards stopped her. “State your name, please,” one of the guards said.
“Sunset Shimmer. Princess Twilight sent me to speak with the Princess.”
Both guards glanced at each other before one looked around the corner of the doorway and said something to a runner that took off up the stairs. A short while later, a unicorn dressed in a green robe, glasses, and a beard appeared in the stairway. “Let her through,” he called.
The guards responded by standing to the side, allowing Sunset to climb the stairs and look at this strange pony.
“Um, hi!” he said, shuffling in his green, star-covered cloak. “I’m Sunburst the uh…Court Mage, I guess? I’m technically Princess Flurry Heart’s magical tutor, but she’s still too young for that.”
The orange-coated stallion laughed nervously, and Sunset blinked at him before continuing. “So, anyway, I need to speak with the Princess, Twilight was talking about—”
“Clearing some funds, yes,” Sunburst said before he pushed up his glasses. “Come this way. We’ll get you taken care of.”
The unicorn led her up the stairway, and she followed along, regretting the heavy coat she still wore, and up to a small room.
“Go ahead and take a seat,” Sunburst said. “I’ll see if I can get the Princess or the Treasurer to speak with you.” He nervously smiled before slipping away, leaving Sunset alone in a small side room.
She sat, looking around the simple chamber, though a glance upward did reveal a crystalline roof that let sunlight filter in unimpeded. The chairs were well stuffed and comfortable, and that’s when Sunset thought to herself, “Don’t they usually serve tea or something while you wait?”
She said, waiting, trying to think of something to do, but her mind decided to berate her more for the spell she cast.
“Those ponies were just doing their job, and you played them like puppets on strings.”
What else was she supposed to do, though? Go through a long and lengthy explanation as to why their Flash—the pony they know so well—didn’t remember them or appeared to be abandoning his post in the middle of the day. That would have only made things more complicated, raised more questions, and caused more delays.
“So it’s alright because it was necessary?” her thoughts accused. “Of course, that makes everything better, doesn’t it?”
Before she could offer a rebuttal, the door Sunburst left through opened again, and Sunset found herself staring at Dean Cadence.
“Well, hello!” the alicorn greeted. “You must be Twilight’s student Sunset.”
The deja vu that hit her nearly kept Sunset from responding, but she just managed to stand. “Dea—er…Princess Cadence, sorry. It’s…a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said, feeling strange about “meeting” someone she already knew.
Cadence got close. “Do you do hugs?”
“I mean, sure, I guess,” Sunset said before the alicorn hugged her, using both legs and wings to pin her down.
After Cadence decided to let her breathe again, she smiled. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” she replied.
“So, sit. Tell me what you need.”
“Well, uh,” Sunset began. “What did Twilight tell you?”
“Something about a very powerful artifact that she’s afraid to discuss over a letter.”
“That’s the jist,” Sunset said. “It’s um….” She glanced around the room before she began to cast a spell. She surrounded the air around them with a Destroy Image spell, stopping all sound in the surrounding area. The space around them became still as the background noise of the world beyond the room went silent, making everything around them inaudible before whispering the words, “an intellect crystal.”
The noise from outside began creeping in again, and the spell ended.
“I see,” Cadence said quietly, the smile on her face disappearing at hearing the news. “That is a little distressing.”
Sunset nodded. “A friend and I will try to find it in the mountains, but we might need to re-supply in the city. If that happens, we’ll need money.”
Cadence nodded. “Of course,” she said, facing a chest off to the side of the room before pulling a quill and parchment free. “I’ll clear whatever you need, just hand this over to one of my guards, and he’ll escort you to whatever you need.”
Sunset nodded.
“Flash!” she called.
Sunset blinked.
A moment later, a yellow pegasus that looked all too familiar entered. His eyes glanced over at her, but Sunset saw nothing in them. No recognition, bitterness, or curiosity rested in him as they shared a look for a fraction of a second before he bowed to the Crystal Princess.
“Yes, Princess?” he said in Flash’s voice.
“Let the guards know that the mare who bears this letter is working for the security of Empire, and they are to be trusted,” Cadence said, handing the letter over to Sunset.
“Um, thank you, Princess,” Sunset said.
Flash—not her Flash, the one that didn’t know her, the one she didn’t hurt—bowed and saluted, stepping back into the hallway.
He looked so…right here. Something about him looked unspoiled. Was the Flash she knew worse off because she knew him, or was it something else that was the problem?
“No,” she reminded herself. “That’s ridiculous. He’s worse because of me.”
“Is something alright?” Cadence asked, interrupting her thoughts from going further.
“Oh, uh… I’m just… I’m traveling with a stallion that looks…remarkably like Mr. Flash there.”
“Is that so?” Cadence said.
“Yes, it’s uncanny,” she said.
“How uncanny? Like ‘Maybe a Changeling’ levels of uncanny or celebrity-lookalike uncanny?”
Sunset blinked. “What’s a changeling?” Whatever they were, they were apparently common knowledge, and not knowing what they were might out her as strange. She still needed to answer, though. “He looks exactly like your Flash.”
Cadence nodded. “I see. Thank you for letting me know. While most Changelings have reformed, they don’t run around looking like someone else unless they have something to hide. Keep an out on him. We can’t be sure what secrets they might be hiding.”
Sunset nodded. “Of course.”
Princess Cadence nodded again before sighing. “If it turns out there’s nothing, then I will give my apologies in advance. I admit I have a bit of a history with Changelings, and while I’m trying to be better, I still would rather be more careful than not.”
“I see.”
Cadence shrugged. “But you don’t want to hear that. For now, I’ll let you get started on your mission. You have enough to worry about now.”
---♦---
Sunset returned to the tavern that Flash pointed out earlier and found him sitting at a table with a berry tart.
“Flash,” she said, greeting him as she sat beside him.
“Sunset,” he greeted, taking a bite of the tart. “Did you get a word from the Princess on those funds?”
“They’re clear,” she said. “We just need to speak to the guards, and we’ll get what we need.”
“Great. Then we can head out as soon as possible.”
Sunset nodded before pulling a piece of the tart apart.
“Hey, that’s mine!”
Sunset licked it. “Too late.”
He frowned. “Stealing my food again,” he said.
She shrugged. “You can only change so much.”
“Sure,” he said.
“Anyway,” Sunset said, chewing quickly. “I don’t think there’s anything left to delay us.”
“Sun’s still fairly high up,” Flash agreed. “We can start moving now, but we’ll have to set up camp fairly soon. If we can afford it, we might want to stick in town until morning.”
Sunset nodded. “That’s probably the best idea.”
Flash shrugged. “Probably. Do we have a place to stay tonight?”
“We can get a spot. That won’t be hard. If this place is what it looks like, we might even want to stay here. It’s close enough to the right edge of the city.”
“Sounds like a plan then; we leave at first light tomorrow.”
Sunset nodded. They had a plan. They’d leave in the morning, go off to find the Intellect Crystal, and then Sunset could finally have her new start.
And then, she’d never come back.
Her heart had finally found the words she’d not want to face. If this went well, then she’d probably never come back here.
Sunset took a deep breath and took another piece of Flash’s tart.
“It doesn’t matter if I don’t come back,” she thought. “After all, I’ve spent about half my life in the human world. It’s just as much home as Equestria is.”
She forced the thoughts away, leaving no room for argument, but her heart wasn’t mollified.
The cold air hit Flash like a sucker punch to the lungs. Each breath felt like he swallowed ice, leeching away warmth from his core as he pushed forward through the heavy snowbanks. He tried inhaling through his nose because he knew he could theoretically warm the air by running it through that part of him first, but that felt like breathing in a snake that bit at him all the way down.
First light came faster than expected, although it may be more accurate to say that night never really came. Despite the sun rising by Princess Magic, there appeared to be a tilt to the planet which meant that Equestria also had longer and longer days in summer the closer to the pole one traveled. Instead of the darkness, both ponies were expecting the sun to dip below the horizon, only for it to coast just out of sight, leaving the Crystal Empire to glitter in the dusk.
“Well,” Flash remembered thinking. “At least we’re climbing a massive mountain in summer.”
Despite their plan to leave at first light, the pair decided to rest for the “night” and move once they were both rested.
In doing so, they discovered that the aura around the city-state Empire also darkened the sky, letting them rest without worrying about the light shining in their eyes.
Flash wasn’t sure he was thankful for that, given that he needed to start acclimatizing himself to sleeping during dusk.
Nonetheless, as the aura around the city lightened, Flash and Sunset left into a small flurry of snow, heading north toward the great Everhoof.
The further away from the Crystal Empire, the lower the temperature dropped, and the worse the snow became. While it wasn’t a blizzard, the snow fell in a wall, limiting visibility to a few yards at best.
He glanced at Sunset, her brown winter coat standing out against the white landscape like the moon on a clear night. The crunch of his hooves against the snow was the only sound he could hear, and his snow goggles were starting to fog up again.
He moved ahead a bit before he pulled off the ski goggles and scooped up some snow. “What’s our heading?”
Sunset paused and pulled her compass free. “We’re drifting to the West again,” she said. “We need to correct toward the East.”
Flash nodded and emptied the snow out of his goggles before placing them back on. As the world regained the orange tint he’d gotten used to, he rechecked his surroundings and found nothing but snow and white.
“This isn’t a promising start,” he said.
“It could be worse,” Sunset said. “We could be doing this in winter.”
“Sure. However, we’d at least be able to see.”
“We’d be able to see now if we could teach you how to fly,” Sunset said.
“Sure, but that means I’m spending a lot of time trying to learn a new skill. We agreed I should learn somewhere where it’s easier for me to actually learn.”
“I know, Flash, I was there.”
“I’m just saying not teaching me how to fly was your choice.”
She glared at him, and Flash decided he’d better put his stick down before he poked the bear further.
Turning around, he marched toward where Sunset pointed, keeping him heading toward the mountain he couldn’t see.
When Flash was in scouts, he learned that the human body was awful at keeping a sense of direction when walking without landmarks. Normally, humans didn’t walk far enough for it to matter, but without landmarks to correct himself, he’d slowly, gradually head toward his left as his right leg took stronger, longer strides than his left. Eventually, given enough time and flat ground, he’d slowly walk in a large circle and start right back where he left off.
Flash wasn’t entirely sure, but he had a hunch that this transferred over to his pony body as well, much like it had for Sunset. As a result, he asked if she had a compass, and when she said, “Of course,” he asked her to get their heading and check it occasionally.
“How much further, do you think?” Flash asked.
“Not sure. We were about eight leagues away from the foothills, and we’ve been out here for six hours now. The only question is how much time we spent heading the wrong way each time.”
“How far is a league?” Flash asked.
Sunset sighed. “About as far as a pony can walk in one hour, Flash. Same as in the human world.”
“I knew that,” Flash lied. “I just wanted to be sure it was the same across the mirror.”
“Even if it weren’t, I’d tell you in human terms anyway.”
“Good to know.”
Flash continued to march forward into the snow. The archaic terms were probably the weirdest part of coming to Equestria. “League” seemed so strange and almost made him wish he played O&O or something.
Though, learning that ergophobia meant fear of returning to work was excellent and may be something he would add to his vocabulary. Snollygoster might as well.
Sunset told him that being in the Crystal Empire might have worsened the problem. “They were magically in stasis for a thousand years,” she told him. “This is the greatest Equinpological time capsule ever to be found. It’s a miracle we still speak the same language.”
Fair enough to them, he supposed. Being pulled one thousand years into the future would leave him in a strange new world with new terms to use, and if he were in their shoes, he wouldn’t stop using his own words to change either.
Pushing ahead, Flash glanced up at the sun, which hung in the sky behind them as they moved. He figured it was around midday, and his stomach was beginning to agree that they should break for lunch soon enough.
“Sunset,” he said, getting her attention, “Do you want to stop to eat some rations or keep going?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but Flash cut in before she could say anything. “Personally, I’d suggest stopping. It would allow us to rest our legs before we continue for the rest of the day.”
She sighed. “Sure, Flash. We can stop.”
Without another word, Flash stopped and set his bag down. “Try not to sit down in the snow. The last thing you need is cold water against your skin. Or, er…fur.”
He reached into his bag and pulled out his rations, a fruit leather that tasted better as a pony than when he was human, and then he sat on the saddlebags, keeping himself dry.
Sunset watched him as he sat there before she slowly followed along, taking her bag off and following Flash’s example.
Flash ate quickly and sipped at the water in his canteen, filled with sugar to keep from freezing in the cold. The ye-olde-energy drink went down smooth, and Flash sighed as it went down. “How much Kool-Aid powder do we have?”
“They’re not ‘Kool-Aid powder,’ Flash,” Sunset said. “It’s a proto-alchemical powder that—”
“It’s a flavorless Kool-Aid, Sunset. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a good conversationalist, Flash. So respectful of ancient cultures and practices.”
“How much do we have?” he asked.
“Enough for two weeks, just like we have two weeks of food.”
Flash nodded and surveyed the area again, unable to see anything that could give them a sense of direction.
“We’re probably not making good time,” Flash said. “So we’re probably still another three, hopefully not four hours to go, and then we’ll finally have the foothills to orient ourselves with.”
“We’ll also have some decent cliffs for you to jump off of.”
He glanced at her. “Excuse me?”
“So you can learn to fly, Flash,” she said. “So that you can change the weather for us.”
“Oh, right.”
He’d thought she was back to insulting him again like she used to on days when she was particularly annoyed. She had a habit of that when they were dating, so it hadn’t surprised him as much as it should have, but he did feel his old habits rising as he sat there.
He shouldn’t have thought that, though. He should have given Sunset the benefit of the doubt. She’d done so well to be better than that. She’d spent years being better, but Flash still couldn’t trust her.
And he wasn’t sure why.
He finished his lunch before standing and pulling his bag back onto his back. “You ready?”
“Not yet,” Sunset said, starting to move.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving her off. “I’ll go ahead and take a second to empty the tank first.”
She nodded. “Don’t fall in.”
Flash rolled his eyes at hearing that line again. She only said it every time he had to leave her during their stint. “There’s nothing to fall into, Sunset,” he grumbled, knowing full well she didn’t care, and moved on, walking away from her but not far enough away that she disappeared into the snow.
If he went too far away, he could lose his sense of direction and need help knowing where to go. He did his business and returned. “What’s our heading?” he asked.
“The way you just came from,” she said, staring at the compass.
“What?” he asked. “I thought that was west or something?”
“That’s north,” she said, showing him the compass.
Flash blinked. “Wow. That’s…” he began before his mind thought back to the articles he read about people getting lost. Thinking back on it, maybe large circles weren’t the problem. “That’s kind of terrifying.”
“That’s why we have a compass,” Sunset said. “Now, let’s get going; we still have a ways to go.”
---♦---
They didn’t get to the foothills until the afternoon. The small, jagged mountains that marked the boundary of the Himaneighyas left deep valleys that provided some cover from the windchill and some much-needed landmarks for them to use.
It was here that Flash suggested they make camp.
“Since we’re still a few ‘leagues’ from the mountains proper—”
“We’re way closer than that. It’s a mile at best.”
Flash stared at her unamused. “Regardless, we don’t need to worry about avalanches. We only need to worry about the wind and the snow, and the hills should help.”
Sunset didn’t object to what he said, but she trusted that he knew what he was talking about.
So they got to work. Flash set up the tent and began covering the waterproof covering with snow. “To keep the heat in,” he said. “Snow’s a great insulator.”
Sunset, meanwhile, worked on dinner. The food itself didn’t need to be cooked, though her human habits were expecting some chicken or beef to go with it. However, she did want some heat to her carrots.
Getting out some firewood from her pack, Sunset used Create Energy to light some charcoal Twilight packed for them and start it burning instantly. Laying out a pot, she then filled it with some snow for water. “What do you think about a soup or stew?”
Flash shrugged. “Either way works for me,” he said. Before pulling out something that looked like a basket made of metal. “What’s this?”
“A brazier,” Sunset replied. “We can take some of the coals from the fire and put them in that to help heat the tent.”
Flash nodded and set it inside. “In the future, set the fire closer to the tent entrance. Again, we don’t need to sit on the snow and get wet.”
She looked back at the four feet between her and the tent. “Closer than this?”
“As close to the tent as you can get.”
She frowned. “Alright. Will I have to worry about the tent lighting on fire?”
“Yes, but we also can’t afford to waste the heat.”
Without any more discussion, Sunset began to work on the soup. She used Transform Body to cut the carrot into prepared, diced pieces, along with lentils and some onion. The coals simmered the soup, but it did cook quickly, and Sunset pulled a handful of coals into the tent and into the brazier, where it would provide some heat.
Flash had already unpacked his and her sleeping bag, and he began sitting on his to begin warming the bag. “So when do we start looking for the crystal?” He asked. “And how do we do it?”
“It’s a little complicated,” she said, pouring the soup into some bowls. “So, the short version is that I’m changing my sense with magic to look for spikes in thaumaturgic fields. That will be the easy part, but I need to look out for the usual activity associated with ley lines and—” She glanced over at Flash and saw his eye glazing over. “I have a spell. I must get close to being sure it’s actually the stone and not normal magical activity.”
“I see.”’
“Do you really?”
“It’s magic.”
Sunset shook her head. “Just about,” she said.
“See, I’m following along.”
“Right,” she said before pulling the spoons from the bags. “Here. Enjoy.”
They began eating, staring into the white void beyond the handful of rocks that offered any color other than snow-white. “Let’s hope we can get started tomorrow,” Flash said.
“Oh, we will. And first things first, you’re going to learn to fly.”
---♦---
Snow still fell the next day, but it wasn’t nearly as thick. In fact, Flash could see the faintest outline of the towering spire of the Crystal Palace from here, all eight leagues away.
Of course, that was all the excuse Sunset needed.
They stood on an outcropping about ten feet off the ground, with a large snow bank beneath, waiting to be landed in. “We’ll start with just taking off,” Sunset said. “From a standing position. It will be pretty intensive, but it’ll help you learn how to use your wings.”
“If we’re just doing a standing take-off, why am I standing next to a cliff?”
“Because,” she explained, as though she’d done this a hundred times before—despite not having wings herself, he noted, “once you get in the air. We’ll worry about gliding. But I want to ensure you know how to use your muscles first.”
Flash compiled, stretching out his wings, and took a single, exploratory flap.
His wings caught the air, and Flash yelped in surprise as he lifted himself off the ground. That alone wouldn’t have been so bad, but he realized too late that he somehow put forward momentum into the flap. As a result, he took a short leap forward and fell ten feet into the snow with a surprised yelp that was quickly cut off.
He rolled out of the embankment just in time to see Sunset looking over the edge. “I was hoping we could try going forward later,” she said.
“So helpful.”
“Look, I don’t know how to fly, alright. I just remember the half-heard lessons from my pegasus friends. It’s not like I’m asking you to make a magconstruct thaumometer. That’s my expertise.”
Flash rolled out of the snow and shook off whatever powder stuck to him. “Glad to know.”
“Anyway, I want you to try again. Try not to throw yourself off the cliff.”
Flash shook his head. “We need to get some travel done today,” he said.
“Sure, but I need to get us a heading, and that will take some spellwork first.”
Flash climbed back up the little outcropping to his take-off point and re-adjusted himself. This time, he tried to flap his wings directly up and down, and even though he still went forward, he managed to correct them at the last moment. Flapping what felt like backward, he slowly moved up before hovering in the air.
“Sunset! Sunset! I think I have it?”
She glanced over from her work and equations that she was writing down in the snow. “That was fast.”
“Well,” Flash said. “They do the job well enough. It’s just a matter of learning how to use the equipment.”
“Oh, is that all?” Sunset asked with a smirk.
“Alright, so what now?” Flash asked.
“Now, I want you to try and change your elevation,” she said. “Try getting higher and lower without moving around too much. Then we’ll worry about flying after that.”
Flash nodded, though he dropped as he split his concentration momentarily. He forced his mind back on his wings. “Is…is it supposed to be this hard?”
“You’re doing pretty well, I thought.”
Flash shook his head and landed. “No, no. That’s not what I mean,” he said. “The actual flying part is fine, but it takes a lot of concentration.”
Sunset shrugged. “It’s probably because you’re new to it. Your body can do it fine, but you don’t have the habits built in. All that will take is practice.”
Flash frowned. “I suppose.”
Sunset smiled. “In the meantime, Flash, keep going. While you do, I’ll focus on figuring out where we’re going; after all, Mt. Everhoof is a big place.”
She returned to her equations in the snow while Flash focused on flying. Despite that, his mind couldn’t help but wander. The trip up the mountain was the more important subject. After all, this little training break would only last a few hours before they had to start moving again. Standing out in the middle of the snow wasn’t the best place to waste time or energy doing something that wasn’t survival related, even though flying would be the best tool to climb the mountain.
He took to the air again, pulling himself into a hover before moving up and down, slowly gaining confidence in his ability to change altitude.
Then, as he was hovering there in the air, it slowly dawned on him that he was flying.
He was flying.
He had his own wings, and now the sky was his. It took effort, sure, but no more than walking, and he could go anywhere.
Night Silk sat in his office, reading over the report of the training regime he set up. So far, the Inquisitors were gaining the martial skills they were expected to have, but their infiltration skills still needed work. The unicorns selected from the best of the guard were being trained in Image spells to perform illusions but wouldn’t be ready to use them for years yet. The others, Earth ponies and Pegasi likewise selected, proved to be a little slow to pick up the skills needed to creep through a dark warehouse without being spotted.
Or heard, like the one earth pony that insisted on keeping his Guard armor on.
It seemed that Night’s trainers were not meeting his expectations. He shouldn’t have been too surprised. In a desperate attempt to delegate the responsibility of training the new Inquisitors, Night pulled some of the best sneak thieves and pick-pockets from the prisons, promising they’d get some time off their sentences if they taught them the best they could.
Of course, in hindsight, all of the trainers had been caught.
He sighed.
It seemed like he’d have to take this on himself, which he wasn’t looking forward to.
Someone knocked on his door, and he looked up to see Spike staring into the office. “Night? You got a second?”
“Sure,” he said, setting the report aside. “What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, really,” the dragon said. “Just checking in. I told you I would.”
Night nodded and smiled despite himself. “Yeah, you did. I can’t fault you on that.”
Spike nodded. “And don’t you forget it. So what’s been up lately?”
Night held up his report. “Training Inquisitors is not going as well as I’d hoped.”
“What’s the problem?”
“We have plenty of guards that know how to fight, which means we have plenty of ponies that can train them to fight. We have almost nopony that can teach them how to sneak.”
“We have you,” Spike noted.
“Yes, but I’m one pony, and I can’t train them all while keeping my ear to the ground,” he said, tapping his reports for the Princess. “There are already whispers of someone trying to fill in the power vacuum Gleaming left behind when we broke up her little Triad. That needs my attention.”
Spike nodded. “I can’t argue that.”
“So, I can’t train the new Inquisitors, but our trainers aren’t good enough to get them where they need to be.”
Spike nodded. “Okay. So what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking I’m stuck,” Night grumbled.
“Well, that’s not great,” Spike said, sitting beside Night’s desk. “So, I guess my question is, what do we do?”
“That’s my question,” he said, sounding exhausted. “I can’t do both, but I can’t let the other slip.”
Spike nodded before he began staring off into the distance, obviously thinking. “Do you need to do both things right away?”
“What? Yes, of course, I do.”
“Are you sure? When Twilight had problems like this, I typically had to remind her to prioritize a specific job and go from there. Is there any way you can do these jobs one at a time?”
“Only if I’m okay with not building the Inquisitors into the force that Twilight wants.”
“We still can,” Spike said. “We’re just focusing on the crime first.”
Night sighed. “Alright, we’re focusing on crime. So, I need to drop this right now and get out there and figure out who’s stealing things again?”
Spike’s eyes glittered. “You can, and you can train somepony simultaneously.”
“I can’t bring the hopefuls with me.”
“You can’t bring all of them with you,” Spike corrected, “but you can bring one of them.”
Night blinked. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Bring one with you and train him on the job,” Spike said. “Then, once you think he’s ready…”
“I can send him back to train the others,” Night said, catching on.
Spike nodded, smiling the whole way. “There, see. We just had to figure out which job to do first.”
Night opened a drawer and began sifting through the roster. “I need to pick the one that’s doing the best at sneaking and also has the best skills for teaching the other inquisitors.”
“Do you have anyone like that?”
Night placed a folder on the desk and smiled. “I just might.”
---♦---
Ardent Rush sighed.
When he heard that guards were being selected to join the Inquisitors, a new branch of the EUP, Ardent imagined something a little more informal. He should have guessed as much, he supposed. Joining the guard meant he got the opportunity to protect ponies, but it came at the cost of having to live one of the most disciplined lives in Equestria.
The Inquisitors, unfortunately, had many of the exact requirements on the discipline front. He still had to get up at five in the morning, and he had to report to PT at six, and then work on training for the next four hours. After that, they had free time unless you were unlucky, in which case you had meetings.
Ardent, if given the choice, would never make it to a meeting on time. The EUP did its best to beat that out of him, but his free spirit remained unbroken. He would arrive exactly four minutes late, enough to be late but not enough to get too many push-ups for discipline.
As he approached the Spymaster’s office, he slowed down, stopping just before he turned the corner. He waited in his dark blue Inquisitor uniform, counting down the second as they passed.
It was hard to rebel against the Mare when you were the guards that gave her power, but he still found a way to get the job done.
Finally, with his time up, he turned the corner and walked into the Spymaster’s office.
The room was empty.
He glanced around the room and wondered if he remembered the location correctly. For a moment, Ardent wished he hadn’t because if his superiors were catching on to his little act of rebellion, they might be scheduling the meetings four minutes later than they told him.
The earth pony was about to turn and leave when he glanced back at the overstuffed chair.
The leather on the chair looked pressed, somehow. It looked like someone was pushing into the back of the chair, squishing the leather beneath. Almost as though, well, almost as if someone were sitting in it.
Ardent narrowed his eyes and slowly walked around the desk before he pushed at the chair. The resistance it gave let him know all he needed. “Sir?”
Night Silk appeared in the chair. “Ardent Rush. You have a good eye.”
“Uh, thank you, sir,” he said, backing up.
Night pointed him over to a seat opposite him. “Sit down, please.”
Ardent Rush sat, slowly regaining confidence in the meeting. He had arrived just late as he wanted to, and not even the Spymaster’s weird test could take that from him. He needed to act nonplussed, and the boss’s bluff would fall flat.
“I have your file here,” the Spymaster said. “It’s an…interesting read for a guard.”
Ardent nodded. “I’ve heard.”
Night placed the file out front. “I also have your training reports.”
Ardent shifted slightly. His usual method of rebellion always counted on him being a perfectly respectable soldier with no other blemishes on his record. He knew that his new training was not going well. If the boss wanted to get on his case, he could try on the training front.
“You’re doing exceptionally well,” Night said.
Now Ardent didn’t know what the point of the meeting was.
“You’re currently the best Inquisitor we have right now. The problem is that you’re nowhere near where we need you to be.”
“So…” Ardent began, “what’s our plan?”
Night smiled. “Quick on the uptake, that’s also good. Well, let me put it to you this way, Ardent. You’re looking at a promotion in the near future.”
“A promotion?” Ardent said, with a sinking feeling starting to grow in his stomach.
“As lead instructor,” Night said with a nod.
Ardent didn’t like that.
“However, before you can become a proper instructor, I’m going to train you personally so that you’ll actually know what you’re talking about before you have to start teaching everyone.”
Ardent slowly nodded. “Well, I can tell you, I’m not a good teacher.”
“That’s alright. We just need to get you good enough to teach the first generation of Inquisitors. After that, we’ll re-evaluate as necessary. Regardless, you have the most skills in sneaking.
Ardent still wasn’t thrilled about it. “It’s only a temporary position, Ardent,” he said to himself. “I’m still not sure it’s the best idea, sir, but I’ll do what I can.”
“And make it difficult for me every step of the way?” Night asked with a smile.
“Never, sir.”
Night tapped the folder.
“Maybe a little, sir,” Ardent, a small smile growing on his face.
Night smiled likewise. “Good. So here’s how we’re going to do our training. A group of criminals are trying to fill the space of Gleaming Coin’s crew. They’re trying to push into smuggling, racketeering, and grand theft. They call themselves the Scarlet Hoof, and they’re trying to be everything Gleaming was and more.”
Ardent nodded, following along. He’d been there for the raid on the Triad that doubled as Night’s rescue mission. He’d seen firsthoof what the Triad planned on getting out on the black market, and he didn’t even want to think about what damage those shoddily made artifacts could do if they exploded. The earth pony nodded his understanding.
“We can’t let them get close to that kind of thinking. Currently, there’s a power and service vacuum in the criminal underworld. We want to make sure nopony big enough slips into that spot. If they do, then we haven’t fixed the problem, only changed its name.”
“So we need to move against them sooner rather than later?” Ardent asked when the conversation hung for a fraction of a second too long.
Night nodded. “And I hope you understand that ‘we’ isn’t the collective, inquisitorial ‘we.’ You and I are going. It’ll be your chance, your chance to train, and my chance to get ahead of the Scarlet Hoof before they get too much steam.”
“Are we going to be able to do that?” Ardent asked. “I won’t slow you down any?”
“You might,” Night said, “but it’s the best way to get you trained to the new Inquisitorial standard. Besides, I’m a Master Thief. If I can’t keep a rookie hidden from idiots like them, then I might need to turn in my credentials.”
Ardent nodded. Despite the Spymaster’s confidence, some of him didn’t like this. His “forget-the-rules-that-I-want-to-ignore” attitude wouldn’t work if he became a teacher with a still spotless record.
But at the same time…
“When do we start, sir?” Ardent asked.
“Tomorrow. I have to attend the Council of Friendship tonight for a previous engagement. Once that’s done, we head to the Inquisitorial Headquarters in Manehatten.”
“We have an Inquisitorial headquarters in Manehatten?”
“By Headquarters, I mean an apartment I’ve used for years with a blackboard and a cot. Pack some supplies.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Ardent stood and left, thinking about how best to be a minor pain to the Spymaster.
---♦---
The Council of Friendship took place in the usual circular room. Everything had been set up correctly, including the boxes of various board games, drinks, snacks, and everything else they might need. Everything was perfect as far as Spike was concerned.
Night arrived first, partially out of habit to ensure the room was secure, partly because he didn’t want to walk in with Twilight. Spike wasn’t sure why their relationship had slowly gotten on the rocks, but he hoped whatever happened would fix itself soon enough. At the very least, they were still officially “together.”
Twilight, as hostess, came next. She tried to give a warm smile to Night, and while he returned it, he still kept his distance.
Obviously troubled, Twilight fussed over the board games to find something to distract her.
And then Rarity arrived.
Every time she walked into a room, she made it brighter. Almost literally, considering how much light diffused off her coat. “Hello, Spike,” she greeted.
“Hello, Rarity,” he said.
“I must say, you are looking well. Have you grown taller lately?”
“It’s possible,” Spike said with a smile.
“Well, you’ve certainly been filling out. You’re putting on some serious muscle there, Spikey. Have you been exercising?”
“I have to do something around here,” he said. “Since the servants would do everything for me if I’d let them.”
Rarity rolled her eyes and smiled. “What a terrible existence.”
“I appreciate your pity.”
The others filed in, pony by pony.
“Pinkie Pie, it’s so good to see you, my dear! Fluttershy, darling, how have you been? I trust your animal sanctuary is keeping you busy. Rainbow Dash! It’s been a while, we must catch up when I’m in Ponyville next. Well, yes, this is where we catch up together, but I want to catch up with you! Applejack, how is the farm?”
Spike gave his own hellos and hugged his friends, ensuring they were served and comfortable.
Twilight began with some business. She spoke of the Intellect Crystal and how she’d sent Sunset after it. She told them of the Scarlet Hoof and Night’s plan to move against them, and she spoke of the economic boom that might hit Equestria, given that Griffonstone was preparing for war against the Minotaurs and needed additional imports that Equestria could provide.
“That seems so ghastly,” Rarity said. “Profiting off of the misery of the Minotaurs.”
Night explained that while Equestria needed the economic influx, they certainly didn’t want to have Griffonstone go to war. They would offer trade agreements, and then, when Equestria “discovered” what Griffonstone intended, Twilight would send an emissary to broker peace before things got too far, as was her divine right as Princess of Friendship.
“That’s a rather dangerous gamble.”
Twilight agreed but insisted that the trade was needed to help with the payments of new programs to reduce crime. It could drastically help those in need. It was a risky play, but if things went in their favor, it could help everyone.
“I suppose. It doesn’t sit well with me, but then again, I’m not the Princess. Is there any other business on the docket?”
Night told her there wasn’t.
“Then let’s begin the party side of this council in earnest. Before Pinkie positively explodes.”
The poor earth pony did look like she desperately wanted to party.
Twilight agreed, and the games and talk began. Conversations flowed around them, and games were played. At one point, Applejack suggested playing Fore and Back, a card game where every player had two hooves, a “forehoof” and a “backhoof.” Twilight read about it in The Big Book of Equestrian Games and instantly agreed before getting into an argument not twenty minutes later about whether a complete book could be added.
Applejack insisted that the book was closed and no more cards could be added. Twilight argued that surely you can, simply because of the existence of appendixes. That and the Big Book told her she could.
The argument was broken up before it could go much further, and the game finished with Twilight’s team winning, despite using Applejack’s rules.
The night dragged on, and the council concluded.
Pinkie, Fluttershy, Applejack, and Rainbow all set off, leaving Rarity behind.
“Would you mind if I escorted you to the train?” Spike asked before feeling Night’s gaze level on him.
“I would love that, Spike,” Rarity told him.
He walked beside her, taking a forehoof in his claw, as they slowly made their way down the hallways toward the Princess’s Stair, the private passageway to the lower city directly from the castle.
As he walked, he tried to steel himself, to ready his mouth to say those words. Those awful, beautiful words would either crush him or make him.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” the logical part of him said. “It’s not like this is a death sentence.”
His heart told the logical part of him to shut up because it obviously didn’t know any better.
“Look, we both know she’ll probably say no. We’ve been readying ourselves for that for years now. We won’t die if she turns us down, but we have to say it now.”
His heart couldn’t take the stress. It didn’t want to tear off the bandaid; it just wanted to stay here, quiet in this place of not knowing better. It could live here forever.
“No we can’t,” Logic said. “Staying here, in this place will only hurt us more, because if we wait, she can find someone else. Someone that will love her back. We’ve seen it almost happen twice now. Do you want to see that without giving ourselves a chance to move on?”
Heart didn’t. He couldn’t. Mustn’t. Wouldn’t.
“Then we need to say it. Because if she doesn’t want this, then we need to be ready to move on.”
“You’re being awfully quiet, Spike. Is something the matter?” she asked.
“No,” he said automatically. “I just have a lot on my mind.”
“Bit for your thoughts then?”
“This is a great time to tell her,” Logic said.
“I’m just concerned about the Intellect Crystal,” Spike said. “I mean, having a war is bad, but if that gem gets into the wrong hooves, things are going to be so much worse than that.”
“That was a perfect chance,” Logic growled.
Heart pretended not to hear.
“Well, from what Twilight’s told me, Sunset is a perfectly competent pony. She should be able to get the job done.”
Spike nodded. “Still, there’s a lot to hang in the balance there.”
Rarity nodded. “They are quite dire stakes, yes. However, I believe in Twilight, so despite the fact that I have reservations about her plan for the war, I also will believe in her trust in Sunset.”
Spike smiled. “You’re the very picture of a radiant friend, Ms. Rarity.”
She rolled her eyes. “And you are the very picture of a charmer, Mr. Spike.”
Twilight’s private train station loomed ahead of them, his deadline.
“I’ll make sure they take you to the next station over, where your ride to Manehatten awaits,” Spike said, though they had already done this so many times he hadn’t bothered to count.
Rarity nodded.
The train waited for them.
Rarity loaded herself in while Spike spoke with the guards, and they prepared the train. She poked her head out of the car window and smiled at him. “It was wonderful to see you again, Spike.”
“Always a pleasure,” he said.
“Do it now,” Logic demanded.
“Um, Rarity,” Spike said.
“Yes, Spike?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Always.”
“Do it,” Logic screamed.
“Would—” he began before his mouth went dry. Heart panicked, jumbling all the words in Spike’s throat. “Would—” Again, the words wouldn’t come. “Would—,” he tried again before sighing. “Would you like my help at one of your boutiques? For old-time’s sake?”
Rarity smiled. “I would love to Spike, but only when you coming by wouldn’t interfere with your job. After all, you’re a royal advisor these days, I can’t just pluck you out of the library like I did back in the old days.”
Spike nodded. “Well, you’re right, as usual.”
“Don’t worry, Spike. I’m sure we’ll find a way to make it work. So long, for now.”
“Goodbye,” he said with a wave as the train began to pull away, chugging along the line.
He stood on the platform until the train turned around the bend, disappearing from view, and once it had, Logic came screaming back. “You coward.”
Heart didn’t reply.
“You had the chance, in your hands and you let slip by for some half-hearted comfort.”
Heart didn’t reply.
“It was right there, and you let go. There has not been a more wasted opportunity in our entire life!”
Heart finally spoke up. At least they had Night to cheer us on.
Flash looked up the mountainside, staring at the stone monolith above him. The peak of Everhoof loomed over them like a manifestation of death. It towered like the Grim Reaper and stared down with just as much care and consideration that Death would afford.
They made good time up the slope. They were four days away from the Crystal Empire and about a quarter of the way up the mountain. In fact, they were moving so fast that Flash was starting to worry about his breathing and the altitude.
When he asked Sunset about it, she replied. “Oh, you won’t need to worry about it. You’re a pegasus. Your body is made for fast changes in altitude. I’d be the one that would have to worry about it, but I also know the spells needed to get my body used to the changes without having to take days on end.”
“Oh,” Flash said. “You make it sound so easy.”
“Magic can do that, sometimes.”
As they packed up Camp, Sunset looked over her topographical map and glanced up. “There’s a cliff edge about halfway through the day we’d have to climb. Our trail cuts right through it.”
“And I assume I’ll have to fly you up that?”
She looked over him from over her map. “Flash, you learned to fly three days ago. I’m not going to trust you to lift me. You’ll take up a rope. Then I’ll climb it once you’ve secured it somewhere.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“It has nothing to do with confidence,” Sunset replied. “We’re still not sure you have the strength to fly with that much weight for that long.”
“I’ve been flying for hours a day.”
“Yes, but there’s a difference between flying yourself and lifting a whole other pony. It’s like walking and then carrying someone else on your shoulders. Those are two very separate things.”
Flash rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever you say.”
“I will suggest that we tie ourselves to each other at a ledge after the cliff face, though. It looks a little thin, and even if you can’t lift me, dropping slowly will be better than the alternative.”
“Alright,” Flash muttered.
“Let’s go,” Sunset said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
They set off without much else to say.
The sun shone this morning, but the breeze kept the warmth away. The collected snow began packing itself under its own weight as the cold kept it from melting. Sunset used magic to push the snow aside, creating a magical snow plow that cleared the area before her.
Flash, meanwhile, split his time between walking behind Sunset in the cleared snow or flying ahead and beside her. The ability to fly still intoxicated him, though he was starting to feel the weariness of flying everywhere. That weariness meant nothing compared to the freedom it gave.
Flash dreamed about flying once, and that absolute freedom, that carefree weightlessness of actual flight, followed him into his adult life. The chance to go where he wanted, whenever he wanted, to break the rules of gravity themselves was a sensation that Flash wished he could experience again, and here, in another dimension, it was his for the taking.
Flying was as far away as sprinting or walking. He had the muscles and the wings, and he needed no fuel. This was everything he hoped it would be.
Was this how people in wheelchairs felt about walking? About standing on your own? Maybe, maybe not. He just knew he loved it.
A few hours passed before they finally arrived at the cliff edge, and sure enough, it rose like a wall at a ninety-five-degree angle.
Sunset nodded. “Alright, it’s a little steeper than I thought, but the strategy is the same. You got this, Flash?”
He shrugged. “Tying a knot without fingers is going to be the most difficult part. Hand me the beak pitons.”
Sunset removed her bag and reached in it to pull out a pair of hook-shaped, flat metal pieces with carabiners attached to the ends. “I suppose you want me to tie the rope to the carabiner myself?” she asked.
Flash nodded. “It wouldn’t hurt, Miss Magic.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but you’re taking the bags up first.”
“Alright,” Flash said before he flew up to the top. It stood fifty feet high, which seemed far taller than usual since he occupied a smaller body, but he climbed it with no problems, thanks to his wings. As he crested the ledge, he found a large, empty area with only a few rocks sitting on it. He landed on the shelf and looked around, looking for any sign of a crack he could bury the piton in.
He didn’t find anything the first time, so he dropped his bag and took off for the second.
Once the second bag was up, he found that Sunset had weaved the rope through the metal loop and pulled it into a tight knot.
“Perfect,” he said before flying up the cliff a third time.
It took some searching, but he found a spot in the ledge to hold if he hit the piton right.
He’d never done rock climbing before, but he knew the basics of using a piton. You had to hammer the steel into the crack until the piton’s noise changed.
Flash started by slamming the piton into the crack, trying to force the steel to fit before he took out the hammer and began beating the steel hook into the stone.
Ping! Ping! Ping! The piton rang as Flash beat the hook into the rock. He banged against it repeatedly, and the piton began to twist into the crack.
He stopped.
They weren’t supposed to bend. “Uh…” Flash said, staring at it. “I uh…” he began before returning to the cliff’s ledge. “Uh, Sunset?”
“Yeah?” she said, looking up at him as she worked on slipping on a harness.
“The, uh…the piton bent.”
She stared up at him, and he could swear he blinked. “What?”
“It bent. I was trying to get it into the crack, and it bent.”
She stared up at him. “Okay…So, do you want to come back down, and we’ll switch out the pitons.”
Flash nodded before he grabbed the piton and tried to yank it free.
It didn’t come loose, and Flash felt pain in his teeth, trying to pull it out with his mouth. He dropped the rope and turned back. “I can’t get it out.”
Sunset sighed. “Alright, I guess I can start climbing then. If it’s not coming out, it should be safe to climb, right?”
“I guess?” Flash said.
“Throw me the rope!”
He did.
The rope uncoiled down the cliff, and Sunset connected it to her harness. “Just be ready to pull me up when I reach the top.”
With a winch in one hoof and holding the rope in the wrist—or was it an ankle? Flash wasn’t sure—of the other; Sunset began the climb. First, raising her torso above the ground with the clack-clack-clack of the winch before she planted one rear leg into the wall.
She cranked the winch, then took another step up the wall.
Clack-clack-clack, clack-clack-clack, the winch sounded as Sunset slowly began to rise up the rope. Step by step, she climbed, covering the distance slowly but steadily. Flash watched the rope as she climbed, the fur on the back of his neck standing on end. Watching Sunset climb up the cliff made him feel sick. Thinking that maybe she could fall at any given moment twisted his stomach in knots.
She climbed higher and higher up the wall until she made it three-quarters of the way up. And then the rope bounced.
Sunset glanced up, staring at him, and Flash spun to look at the piton. The bent piece of metal had its handle on the ground, twisting from the crack.
He dived for the rope, pinning it between his hoof and the ground, but the piton gave way. The cable slipped out from under him, nearly sending him face-first into the snow and rock beneath him. He grabbed the rope with his teeth and hooves while his wings began to flap wildly.
He pulled as hard as he could, holding Sunset as she dangled over the drop. “Hurry!” he yelled, rope in his teeth. “I’fe got yhu!”
Clackclackclack, clackclackclack. Sunset cranked the winch quickly, turning the slow beats into staccato percussion. She kept climbing the wall, moving faster as Flash pulled the rope up, flapping his wings desperately to try and keep her from falling.
He could hear the winch as she climbed, but his teeth ached as he continued to pull. He tried wrapping a hoof around the rope, but without any slack, he couldn’t move his arms without dropping Sunset. All he could do was keep flapping.
Clackclackclack, clackclack. Sunset’s hoof popped over the edge, and Flash felt some weight ease off the rope. She began to heave herself over the ledge, and Flash pulled with all his might before she tumbled over the edge and to safety.
Flash slumped over and spat the rope free, groaning about the strain on his jaw. “Ow…are you sure ponies use their mouths for stuff like that?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Still don’t believe you.”
They waited there for a moment longer, catching their breath. Then Sunset rolled onto her hooves. “Alright,” she said. “Let me see this piton.”
Flash laid still, staring up at the sky.
“Flash…” Sunset groaned.
“What?”
“Did you try forcing the piton sideways into the crack?”
He glanced up. “Yes? I mean, I thought it would bend if I put it in at an angle to the cliff.”
Sunset sighed before she pulled out another piton and slipped it into the crack. “And then this one slides in right next to it and reinforces the first.”
“Oh,” Flash said.
“How is it that I’m the one that knows how to use pitons, and you’re the extreme camper?”
Flash shrugged.
Sunset sighed before grabbing the first piton and wrenching free the other before using a spell to bend the destroyed hook back into shape. She glanced over at Flash, who still lay on his back, staring at the sky.
“You going to be okay?” She asked.
“Yeah, I should probably get up in a bit so I stay dry,” he said before continuing to lie there.
“Well?”
“Hang on.”
He waited another minute before rolling onto his hooves again. “Alright, we have another thing ahead of us?”
“Yes,” Sunset said, having just finished coiling the rope.
“Then give me a second,” he said before approaching his bag.
“What are you doing?”
“Putting on my own harness.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not holding the rope in my teeth again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m not holding you up by my jaw again.”
“You wouldn’t have had to if you put in the piston right.”
“Yeah, but if you have to cross a ledge, you’re the only one who can mess that up.”
“And I’m not going to.”
Flash smirked. “Sure. Just like you wouldn’t look like an idiot at the school dance that one time.”
“I looked great, thank you.”
“Your dance moves say otherwise.”
“It’s not my fault that pony dance moves don’t look good in a human body!”
Flash smiled. “Sure. Come on, let’s go.”
---♦---
They continued to climb Everhoof, moving up its twisting trails as they made their way up to the top. Sunset took the lead, alternating between the map and her spell to find the magical signatures she singled out. Flash followed behind, but this time, he stuck to walking.
The experience at the cliff wore him out more than he thought it would. He still wanted to fly, but he decided that he’d have to wait for the ledge that Sunset mentioned before he’d take off again. He’d save his strength just in case something went wrong.
The breeze was picking up, and the air was getting colder. Despite that, both ponies continued to move without slowing down.
Flash hoped he didn’t go too hard on Sunset at the cliff. He found it hard to go back to their usual joking and picking at each other that they were used to. He always felt like he was taking it one step too far, that he’d bring up a topic that was too sensitive to joke about. So far, he hadn’t pushed it far enough that he’d made her mad, only that level of mildly annoyed that they would constantly get back when they were dating.
“Well, there’s the ledge,” Sunset said.
Flash glanced around her and stared at a sudden drop. The path continued on the right-hand side, with barely enough space to place a single hoof.
“The ledge curves around,” Sunset explained, looking at the map again. “So we’ll have to be careful, but first, take the bags.”
Flash nodded before he took off, flying around the mountain’s curve and dropping his bag off on the other side of the ledge. He set it down close to the rock wall next to a massive boulder where it wouldn’t tumble over the edge if something went wrong. Once he was sure it wouldn’t move, he flew back, staying close to the ledge and checking it as Flash went with the careful touch of his hoof as he went.
“What are you looking for?” Sunset asked as he came into view.
“Checking the ledge and making sure it’s stable,” he said. “There’s some ice, but hopefully, you’ll be able to cross without any issues if you’re careful.”
“Glad to know you’re looking out for me,” she said with the slightest edge of sarcasm.
“I’m being honest,” he said.
“I know you are,” she replied. “I just don’t think that you need to be worrying.”
“Well, too bad, I am,” he said, grabbing her bag and pulling the rope and Sunset’s harness free. “Go ahead and put that on and secure it. I’ll cover you in case something goes wrong.”
She rolled her eyes and began to work on the harness, and Flash flew Sunset’s bag across.
---♦---
Sunset tied the knot quickly, securing her harness. Flash was ridiculous with all of this. Sure, she could fall, but she knew what she was doing. She’d been on enough adventures, after all. The chances of her messing this up were slim to none, but he wanted to ensure she was safe, and she had to admit that it was better to be safe than sorry.
He returned, still wearing the harness he had been wearing for hours, and pulled the free end of the rope through the loop. “Can you tie me off?”
She used her magic to pull the rope through and tie it tight. “Alright, we’re all secured. Are you happy?”
He nodded before he took off and hovered beside her. Sunset shook her head and moved forward, slowly approaching the icy ledge and the hundred-foot drop. She knew she’d be fine, but as they both got closer, she began to feel much more comfortable with the rope connected to her waist.
Taking another breath, she got onto her hind legs and hugged the wall, moving against the ledge as she carefully maneuvered across the gap. She moved carefully, sliding her hooves until she reached study patches she could trust. Once or twice, she shuffled around to stretch her hoof over the ice and get some footing onto the solid stone.
Flash hovered behind her, never far away.
“How am I doing?” she asked.
“A quarter of the way there.”
“Already?” she asked. “And here I thought this would be tough.”
She kept moving forward, feeling her way over the ledge.
“Halfway.”
She stepped forward again and felt her hoof slip for a second. The rope went taut as Flash moved to try and intercept, but Sunset acted first. Her horn rang to life, and her Control Matter spell took hold, shoving a rock further out and under her hoof.
“I’m good!” she said. “I’m good. We’re alright.”
“Are you sure?” Flash asked.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, okay,” Flash said. “Let’s go the rest of the way.”
She nodded and continued to move, clinging tightly to the wall. Her heart raced, even though she caught herself. The fact that she nearly fell to her death didn’t leave her as she moved. She didn’t relax, either, breathing in short, controlled inhales until she reached the other side. Her hoof touched solid ground, and she smiled. “There, see Flash. No need to worry.”
“Glad to hear it,” Flash said as he landed and grabbed the bags. “But I’ll have you know I was still—”
The boulder beside him shifted. Snow dropped off the rock as it moved, and Flash leaped out of the way as the snow threatened to bury him. He took off, hovering next to Sunset as she watched with wide eyes at the moving stone.
It picked itself up, leaning forward like a massive ape or a troll. Unlike trolls, however, this thing did not look at Sunset with a gigantic, stony face. Instead, a single, empty hole faced her, with a burning yellow light glowing in a terrible, cyclopean eye.
The monster pushed itself onto stubby legs and, moving faster than Sunset would have thought possible for a creature that large, used its long, gangly arms to reach out for her. She cast by instinct, throwing up a shield of pure magic to defend herself, and ran down the snow. Flash flew after her, carrying both bags.
Then they both were yanked to a halt.
“The rope!” Sunset managed to think before she was lifted off the ground. Both ponies stared in the face of the stone creature before it reared back and tossed them down the mountain by the rope.
They tumbled down Everhoof, getting lost in the snow.
Sunset landed hard in the snow. Her entire world was white and cold. She instantly lost her sense of direction and tried to push the snow out of her face. The unicorn kicked at the snow, throwing it out of the way as she tried to find air.
She wished she had fingers instead of magic for the first time ever. Being able to claw her way out instead of just pushing and scooping snow out of the way would be so much preferable.
Using magic, Sunset formed a shell of energy along her front, pushing it away, making some space for her in the powder before snow collapsed from under her to fill the space.
Did it fall from under her? Was that up? How did she get so turned around?
Her magic pushed again, but the snow filled the space again, locking her in place.
Panic began to set in as she realized she was having trouble breathing. If she couldn’t get some fresh air, it wouldn’t matter what magic she had. She’d pass out and suffocate before she could do anything.
Sunset tried to push the snow away from her mouth, but the snow’s texture of fresh powder flowed around the magical shove once more, giving her only a gasp before smothering her again.
She was going to die.
She was going to suffocate under who knows how much snow, and that would be—
Sunset gasped as air filled her lungs. She blinked away the snow and gasped as she looked around. Flash hovered above her, the rope that connected them holding her over the snow.
“Sunset! Sunset, are you with me?”
“I’m here!” she cried.
“Okay, I’m looking for a place to land!”
Holding her over the sea of snow, Flash slowly maneuvered to a large rock, where he slowly set down. Flash landed next to her a moment later, slumping to the ground and laying spread eagle on the stone. “You alright?” he asked. “Any broken bones, bruises, or anything?”
She checked herself over. She was missing her saddlebag, and there was snow in her coat, but she didn’t feel any pain. Sunset shook her head. “No, no, I’m okay.”
“Great. Now, what was that?” Flash asked.
“What?”
“That giant stone thing that just tossed us down the mountain. What was that?”
“It looked like a troll,” Sunset said, “but the face was all wrong. I think it might have been a golem of some description.”
“A what?”
“A pony-made, magic robot,” she explained.
“And why is there one on the mountain?” he asked.
Sunset didn’t have an answer, not one she liked. “Well, she said. Golems are hard to make. Most spells are temporary by nature. They require constant casting to keep going. There are ways around that, but they require gems with spell matrices that absorb magic from the world around them.”
“Okay,” Flash said.
“Creating any kind of AI with magic, no matter how simple or complex, requires a temporary spell. There are two ways to make this kind of thing permanent, but it requires a second spell to be cast, one where just learning the right Technique is controlled by the government. When that happens, it has to rewrite the initial Mind and make a new one completely. Only then will the first spell sustain itself.”
“How does that work?”
Sunset hesitated, getting caught in the middle of her explanation. “Um…well, we’re not sure,” she said. “We have theories. When I was in the academic scene here, I read, like, three different dissertations on it. Most of them boil down to the idea that the Transform Spell rewrites reality, which means it affects something that existed before, so it must exist afterward. Despite that, the theory has some problems with it, so we’re not sure that it’s actually—”
She glanced over at Flash and recognized the glazed look in his eye.
“Anyway,” she said. “The second way to make an artificial intelligence permanent is to use gems; the more complex its functions, the more gems you need. Now, I must be clear: Each function requires a separate gem. Moving one arm is a gem, recognizing a friend from a foe requires a gem, and so on. Unless that golem was made of geodes, it didn’t have enough crystals to be as functional as it was.”
“So, what does that mean?” Flash said.
Sunset sighed. “I think the Intellect Crystal’s already been found, and the pony who found it is making golems.”
Flash sighed. “Great. So how do we take them down?”
Sunset glanced back at him. “What? You’re going to keep going?”
“I mean, aren’t we?” Flash said. “Twilight said that this would be pretty bad if she doesn’t get that thing.”
Sunset blinked. “I…I wasn’t expecting you to be willing to throw yourself at golems.”
“Well, what else am I going to do? Let a madman invade a country?”
Sunset didn’t reply.
“The bigger problem,” Flash said, as though he didn’t notice her hesitance, “we’re going to have to head all the way back to the city to get new supplies.”
Sunset smiled. “No, no. I’ve got that.”
She sat down and began pulling magic to her horn. First, she used a Perceive Matter spell and imagined her saddlebags as the target.
Her vision highlighted the bag under the snow, and then her Control Matter telekinesis spell lifted it to safety. “There. See? We can get them out, no problem.”
“How did you find that under the snow?”
“An item location spell,” she said. “It’s not hard, but it’s going to take time for me to find everything.”
“Then you should probably grab your goggles next.”
Sunset blinked and felt her face. She was missing her goggles, and she hadn’t even noticed. “Yeah, I guess I do. I don’t need to find snow blindness while I’m out here.” She cast her spell again and found them not far from where she landed. Pulling them from the snow, she shook the yellow plastic free of snow and put them back on. “Alright, can you fly up and try to find a way back to where we were?”
“I can try,” Flash said before untying the rope from his harness and taking off.
Sunset watched him go for a moment before she went back to fishing for her equipment.
---♦---
Flash followed a path up the mountain, looking for easy paths up from the air. He followed what he hoped was a good path back to the ledge, but it was hard to see if that snow drift covered a cliff edge or if that gentle depression was a hole that descended into the depths of the earth.
He hoped the path was as trustworthy as he thought and continued to fly until the ledge appeared.
The golem was still there.
Its massive, burning eye locked onto him, reaching for a rock beside it. Its arm locked behind it with machine-like precision before launching the boulder at him. Flash watched the massive stone fly at him in a perfect arc. He almost watched it fly through the air without getting out of the way but managed to dodge despite the perfection of the throw.
He turned back to the golem, who threw another boulder at him. Again, he flew out of the way, but the golem was reaching for new boulders, even as Flash was getting out of the course of the last one. He began backing off, and the golem answered with more stones, thrown further away.
As Flash disengaged, even more stones flew through the air, threatening to squish him flat if one hit.
He flew up to get more height before a thought crossed his mind. Another boulder shot up at him, flying up to match his altitude, but Flash continued to climb upward, getting higher than the stone. Once he was sure he was out of range, he waited momentarily to see if the golem would throw another rock.
Sure enough, the golem tossed another, and Flash watched as it got closer before reaching the apex of the throw and tumbling back down to the snow below.
Flash smiled.
Once he had the height, he began to fly closer to the golem, maintaining his elevation. More boulders flew up to meet him, getting close enough to touch before falling back down. And then Flash parked himself right over the golem.
The golem tossed another stone. It flew straight up, hung in the air for a weightless second just an inch under Flash’s hooves, and then rocketed down at high speeds. It smashed into the golem, splitting the head apart. It slumped, and the burning yellow eye went dark.
The stone body fell apart, whatever force connected the pieces breaking. In seconds, the monstrosity went from a vaguely humanoid shape to a pile of rubble.
Flash smirked. Artificial intelligence, despite everything, was still kind of dumb.
With the golem taken care of, Flash landed and began walking back along the path he found, hoping it was safe enough for both he and Sunset to use.
---♦---
“Did you find a decent path?” Sunset asked.
“Yeah,” Flash replied. “There are some low points where the snow gets a little too high and a short cliff that we’re going to need to climb, but we should be good.”
“Alright,” Sunset said, “and was there any sign of the golem?”
He nodded. “Yeah, but he’s not going to be an issue.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, I crushed him.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It was trying to throw rocks at me, so I made it hit itself with a rock. It smashed itself and broke it to pieces. I crushed it.”
“With only some exaggeration even. I’m impressed Flash.”
“You make it sound like I’d be helpless otherwise.”
“I might have some money on it.”
Flash rolled his eyes. “So what now?”
“Now we should make our way back, shouldn’t we?”
“Not now,” Flash said. “We only have—” he held his hoof up to the horizon and then looked at the limb with incredible disappointment written on his face. “We don’t have a lot of time before the sun sets. We can move a bit, but I don’t want to keep climbing when the shadows get long.”
“Well, we can’t waste time, can we?” Sunset said before her magic pulled his saddlebags onto his back. Flash sighed. “Alright, let’s go. We need to be on the lookout for a good place to camp.”
---♦---
Ardent Rush stood at the Manehatten train station right beside his boss, Night Silk. “Alright, Ardent,” Night said, “I hope you’re ready for some hoofs-on-training?”
“As I’ll ever be, sir,” Ardent responded, nuzzling into his scarf. The fall weather gave Ardent the perfect excuse to wear the warm piece of cloth, even if “warm” was the only positive adjective Ardent could attribute to it. In fact, if Ardent had to describe the scarf around his neck, he’d start with “about as colorful as a seasick clown” and work from there. He’d also say it was ancient. The edges were so frayed that Ardent could tell if the years hadn’t been kind or if they were designed that way.
Night hadn’t said anything about it, much to Ardent’s annoyance. He just took the hideous thing in stride as though it wouldn’t draw attention to them.
“You ever been to the City that Never Sleeps before, Ardent?” Night asked as he stepped off the station platform.
“Once, sir,” Ardent said. “A long time ago.”
“And what did you learn?” Night asked.
Ardent blinked at the question. What he learned? What kind of question was that? Was he looking for some personal anecdote or a witty remark that only a spy would know? He decided that he’d go with his tried and true joke answer. If Night disapproved, he could play it like a little jab.
“I learned that my aunt has some ridiculously high rent to pay,” Ardent said, preparing his best smug smirk.
Night didn’t even turn to look at him. “That is absolutely true,” Night said. “I learned, however, that Manehatten, despite its title, isn’t all that special. No city ever sleeps. They’re always awake.”
Ardent raised an eyebrow, but Night didn’t offer any response. The Spymaster didn’t even turn around to look at him. He just kept walking forward, down into the city.
“A city always has something going on, and knowing the basics will give us what we need to navigate it. Once you know something is happening, you can watch it. Once you watch it, you can figure out if it’s dangerous. If you know it’s dangerous, you can deal with it, and that is our job above everything else.”
Night continued leading him into the streets, where the ponies walked past without hinting of recognition. “Sometimes,” Night said as they turned a corner, “that means calling in the guard. Sometimes, you’ll have to deal with it yourself. This is going to be one of those instances.”
“Can I ask why, sir?” Ardent asked.
“Of course,” Night replied.
When no answer came, Ardent went ahead to ask. “Then why, sir? Why are we dealing with this ourselves?”
“Because we don’t need to bring down the whole guard. We only need a gentle push to send everything here off balance.”
Night didn’t say much else as he led Ardent behind him. The unicorn led him down several streets until they approached an apartment building. Night walked into the building without slowing down and began marching up the stairs with familiarity and purpose.
They climbed to the highest level and a door opening to an apartment that Ardent found criminally small. However, the place was well cared for despite the size. The floor was covered in steel panels, and the windows had magical gems installed into the frames. A slide projector sat on a table, and a self-erasing blackboard—also recognizable by the magical gems—sat on the wall behind it.
“So what do you think?” Night asked, with all the pride of a dad talking about a freshly-cleaned garage. “It’s a miracle what the Royal Architects can do, isn’t it?”
“It’s a little cramped,” Ardent noted.
Night sighed. “Yeah, it’s how I bought this place, to begin with,” he said. “But it does look much better than it had eight months ago. Anyway, the bathroom’s through there, and the bunks are through there. It’s not much for privacy, but it’s what we got.”
“And what are we doing now that we’re here, sir?” Ardent asked as he removed his scarf.
“We’re going to be looking out for the Scarlet Hoof. Gleaming had some influence in this area, and so the Hoof is bound to have some here. We will disrupt them so that even if they set themselves up properly, they’ll be ineffective and easily dealt with.”
“And how are we going to do that, sir?”
Night sat down at a table and reached into his saddlebags. “Are you a big reader?”
“No, sir.”
“I’ve got this nice treatise by Commander Hurricane about logistics and how they are the key to any battle. Whether you’re destroying, planning, or setting up new ones, they are the most important thing. If you ask me, though, even when I was on the streets, I could have told you that thieves don’t like not being paid. In fact, everyone I know doesn’t like being paid, but thieves are especially so. They turned to crime for more of it, after all.”
“So we’re going to mess with their pay, sir?”
“Of course,” Night said. “If they’re going be broke as criminals, then they might start looking for less dangerous jobs. We have to make going to prison not worth it.”
“And how are we doing that, sir?”
“It’s a simple four-step system, Ardent. Step one, we find the hideout. Step two, we find out how they make money and where they store it. Step three, we make it very difficult to make that money, and finally, step four, we rob them blind.”
“Simple, you say?” Ardent asked incredulously.
“Not quite like taking candy from a baby,” Night replied. “More like taking money from a bunch of thugs. The good news is that the Scarlet Hoof has no single, tragically ambitious pony at the top. They’re a bunch of vultures trying to get enough scraps from the corpse before whatever’s left gets burned away. We’re not dealing with masterminds, just opportunists. They would have tried her scheme independently if they were as cunning as Gleaming. Instead, they saw what she did and are trying to play catch up. That means we’re dealing with half-rate thugs who saw somepony make something great and are now trying to act like it was their idea. In other words, idiots.”
“As you say, sir,” Ardent replied, though he wasn’t sure he believed it.
“I do say. Now, before we get to business, we’ll need two more things.”
“What?”
“First: disguises,” Night said. “While your scarf does excellently at making ponies want to avoid looking at you—”
Ardent blinked.
“—we’re going to have to do some long-term reconnaissance. We’re talking day-long stakeouts, and a scarf like that might make someone remember you more than anything. We’ll need some beggar’s clothes, or something similar. Enough that we can walk on the street without anyone paying attention.”
“And the second thing?”
“Dinner. Do you like Chineighs?”
Ardent blinked again. “I… don’t have anything against it? Sir.”
“Excellent. I’ll go speak to my contact and get some info. First lesson, by the way. Make contacts. Talk to ponies, and let them know you’re discreet and here to help. Make sure you can trust them, and make sure they trust you. Once you have those, they’re the first ones you go to every time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Unfortunately, it is part of the job that every inquisitor will have to do on their own,” Night said, “but they’re invaluable.”
Ardent nodded, and Night stepped out of the small apartment, leaving the earth pony to wonder what he had gotten himself into.
Newsie wasn’t thrilled to see Night, but she smiled at him, which was almost the same thing. “Well, well, if it isn’t the Royal big shot. He does remember to look out for the little pony.”
“I am supposed to be disguised, you know,” Night said, dressed in his ‘beggar’s best.’ He wore a dirt-gray shawl that once proudly waved blue and hung limply from his shoulders. A crushed felt hat sat awkwardly on his head, hiding his horn, and a thick, grease-stained coat hid the build of his body. Nopony would recognize him in these clothes, mostly because he was a beggar on the streets of Manehatten, and they were practically invisible all their own.
“And you probably would have been fine if you weren’t taking my corner.”
“Oh, don’t be so sour, Miss,” Night said, putting on a voice and everything. “I just need to buy a newspaper to keep warm tonight.”
Newsie rolled her eyes. “Sure.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a fresh set of broadsheets. “You got the coin?”
He did, of course, but she was playing into the role now. He needed to answer and then let her know what he actually needed. “I’ve got one somewhere on me,” he said, patting himself down. “Have you heard of this new gang in town? This Red Hoof? They haven’t been causing you any trouble, have they?”
“I’m not here to talk, sir. Do you have the money or not?” she asked, reaching into her bag again for a city map.
“It’s on me somewhere,” Night said. She was dedicating herself to the bit this time around.
With a frown, she pulled out a thick, black marker and circled an area on the map before folding it in the paper.
Night finally pulled out a bag of bits—far too many for a beggar to have—and passed it over to the young mare. She handed the newspaper over.
“Thank you so much, miss.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s good to see you again and all that,” Newsie grumbled. “Now get out of here before you chase off my customers.”
Night tipped the poor, crushed hat and made his way to an alleyway out of sight of the public on the street. Once he knew he was out of the way of prying eyes, and the moment the Spymaster was sure no one was watching him, he pulled the map from the newspaper.
A bright tourism brochure for a tour met him, highlighting popular locations as stops along this guided tour. Despite the bright colors and commercialism staring him in the face, the map was accurate enough for his work, if a little low in detail. A section of the southeastern coast, a part of the island known for getting griffon trade ships and rough neighborhoods, was circled. All Night would have to cross-reference this circled area with his to-scale city map, and he’d know where to start looking.
He stowed the brochure away and draped the newspaper on his back. With that, he wandered into the back alleys of the Sleepless City and disappeared.
---♦---
The fall air was getting cold, and the temperature dropped quickly. Two beggars sat in an alleyway watching a warehouse by the dock. They clung to their coats and stayed close to the light of their trashcan fire.
The cold made Night wish he was a pegasus.
“Not exactly how I thought this recon mission would go, sir,” one said to the other.
“How did you think it would go?” The other, Night himself, asked. “And cut out the ‘sir’s. We’re just on the street.”
The first figure was dressed in a long scarf with too many colors and muddled by dirt and grime. “I don’t know, si—” he caught himself and coughed to hide his mistake. “I don’t know. I just knew we would find out how they make their money and where they store it.”
“Exactly,” the second said with a nod.
The first figure, Ardent, pulled his scarf around him and adjusted a ball of crumpled newspaper into his coat. “But I thought we’d do it inside a building, where it’s warm.”
“This building,” Night said, motioning with a nod to the one beside them that had the words’ Talon and Sons Finacial’ written on the front. “Is a shell building for the Griffon embassy. It’s their hideout if they have to abandon the embassy in case of war. If we went there as Inquisitors, we would have caused an international incident.”
“Oh,” Ardent said before glancing behind him. “What about the one that says it’s an orphanage?”
“That one’s actually an orphanage. And I’m not going to show up as a strange stallion that takes up a room in the attic to spy on some criminals across the street. That’s a great way to get a bunch of kids in danger.”
Ardent didn’t respond.
“The good news is,” Night said. “This isn’t a stakeout.”
Ardent’s eyes snapped to the unicorn. “What? We’re not sneaking in there, are we?”
“Not without knowing the exits,” Night said. “We have to make sure we know how we’re getting in and how we’re leaving. After that, we can see if we could figure out the place’s layout with a high-altitude pegasus.”
“And how are we getting a hold of one of them?”
“In the future, you should be able to make a call for one of your colleagues,” Night said. “Which is far more than I ever had, I should point out.”
“Yeah, yeah, old man. You went to school in five feet of snow, going uphill both ways, too.”
“We can hire a pegasus,” Night said. “That’s how I used to do it, but since I’ve got the Spymaster’s authority, I can probably just ask for an out-of-uniform guard to fly over for us. I just need to contact the Princess for the paperwork.”
“Did you not bring the forms?”
“No. A lot of years of being independent means that sometimes you forget you have an easy answer in your saddlebags.”
“You said it, sir.”
“No, sirs. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
“Of course not, sir.”
Night glared at the earth pony.
Ardent just smiled.
Night rolled his eyes. “Anyway. We’ll give them another hour, and then we’ll walk the perimeter.”
Ardent nodded.
The hour passed by in an agonizing, frozen eternity. The fall chill bit at them far harsher than it should have, but Night and Ardent endured it quietly. The sea air must have brought in the cold from Griffonia, leaving the city colder than it should have been. Night’s only true comfort was that he wouldn’t need to stay out too long. Just long enough.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and twilight covered the world. Night waited a bit longer until the light started giving way to darkness.
“Alright, let’s go.”
They moved, crossing the street like shadows, and hugged the wall of the warehouse’s shipyard. Night motioned for Ardent to head in one direction while he moved in the other. He moved as quietly as he could manage while keeping up his speed. The first thing he found was the heavy oak doors, wide enough for a pair of wagons to move in abreast.
He looked at it and instantly knew that the doors were the main entrance, where goods would be loaded and unloaded into the warehouse before heading into the city or the outgoing ships. That was the apparent entrance, but it would also be the most guarded. He had to try and find a side entrance or some other way, both inside and outside, that he could count on.
He kept moving and found a handful of crates he could climb over, but without a way back out, that would only make the shipyard a trap for Ardent and himself. He’d needed a way out before he even thought about getting in.
He came to the end of the wall. Only an open ocean before him and a sudden drop into the water. The shipyard’s enclosure ran to the edge and then two feet past it into the water, leaving no room for Night to sneak around or through.
There was no side entrance.
Frowning, Night fell back, heading back to his trash fire.
Ardent met back up with him later. “Did you find anything, Ardent?”
“No, sir. You?”
“Just the main entrance. We might need to get that pegasus here faster than I thought.”
“What next?”
Night frowned. “We’ll go. We still need the place’s layout before we think about heading in. We need to talk to the Princess.”
Ardent nodded, and they both slipped away from the fire and into the city.
---♦---
Night entered the safe house, and Ardent followed behind. Without slowing down, the Spymaster reached into a cabinet and pulled out a jar of emerald fire before pulling out a piece of parchment. “So that you know,” Night said. “All of the safehouses have a supply of dragon fire. Any letter burned by it will be delivered directly to the Princess or me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Taking the paper and the jar to the table, Night got to work writing a letter. It was a standard affair, asking the Princess for a guard to help. He kept it short, sweet, and to the point, before he rolled up the note and threw it into the dragon fire.
It went up in smoke that flew out the window and toward Canterlot. Night watched it go before he turned to Ardent. “Alright, we should get a response before too long, and when we do—”
The pop of teleportation was the only warning he got.
High Princess Twilight Sparkle, Keeper of the Skies, The Archmage Ruler, Protector of the Tribes, and Lady of Friendship appeared in the middle of the safehouse, smiling widely and holding the unrolled letter in her magical grasp.
“Did someone ask for help on a little adventure?” she asked, trying to smile even wider than she already was.
Night blinked. “I asked for a guard to fly over,” he said before looking behind her to Ardent. “You should probably tell him to relax, by the way.”
She followed his gaze to the Inquisitor in training, who stood at perfect attention. “As you were.”
Ardent slowly began to unwind from snapping into place.
Twilight turned back to him. “You didn’t answer my question, by the way.”
“No, I did. I asked for a guard. I don’t know why—”
“Night,” Twilight said. “You need someone to fly over and get some basic aerial recon. You must do that and ensure your scout doesn’t get noticed and/or shot down. I can do all of that, all myself.”
Night sighed. “Princess, that’s a terrible idea.”
“No, it’s not,” Twilight said. “I can use an invisibility spell, fly over the location, and get you all the information in about as much time as it’ll take to fly there and back.”
“You’re the Princess. We already decided that it’s best if you keep your distance from Inquisitorial work beyond telling us we’ve gone too far. That was the point.”
“And you know that just because I’m the Princess doesn’t mean I stopped being an adventurer.”
Night sighed.
“Besides,” Twilight said. “You left without talking to me beyond a ‘hey, I’m off to do a job,’ and I feel like I’m owed an explanation.”
Night sighed again.
Twilight stared down at him.
“Fine. So we’re here to—”
“Wait,” Twilight said before turning to Ardent. “I’m going to be taking your Spymaster. We’ll be back, don’t go anywhere.”
“Wait, taking?” Night asked before both of them popped with teleportation again.
Night found himself sitting at a candlelit table set for two. “I know it’s a little bit of a late dinner,” Twilight said in the seat opposite him, “but I think it’s only appropriate.”
Night fidgeted.
The dinner looked good. Honey-roasted carrots, seared asparagus, a potato salad, and a dish of rice and braised chickpeas sat on the table before him, with a perfectly portioned meal for them and a bottle of rosé to share.
Looking around, she seemed to set the table in the sunroom, not the main dining room. The food, setting, and placement of everything were specially set up. When did she prepare this? She at least had to get the cooks on this plan.
“I had this ready for a week now,” Twilight said, as though reading his mind, “but every time I brought up the idea, you suggested something else.”
She worded that reasonably softly, but her voice made it clear she was still disappointed. You shot me down every time I asked, she wanted to say.
Night nodded and poured himself a glass. “It’s very nice,” he said, trying to defuse the situation.
“Nice?” she asked.
Night mentally winced. That was not the right word to use. He fumbled for a bit and used that last defense he had. He ran and changed the subject.
“The Scarlet Hoof has been trying to stand in Gleaming’s horseshoes,” he said. “As far as I can tell, they’re trying to stand where she did and fill the void for some of her success. As far as I know, they don’t know her plan of forging artifacts, which is in our favor, but I need to know for sure.”
The Princess looked at him with eyes that said more of her disappointment than her frown told of her anger, but she motioned for him to continue.
“We’ve found the Manehatten hideout, and Ardent and I are going to look around and find out how they’re making money and how to stop it. That’s why I needed the guard to fly over. See where the entrances and exits are.”
He’d taken a wrong turn. He needed to escape again.
“Just been trying to catch up with work.”
“You seemed to have managed well enough to do this on your own.”
She was getting ahead of him again.
“I had to so I could catch up.”
She nodded. “Any other business you want to talk about?”
He hit a dead end.
“Uh…”
“Then I’d like to talk about what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” he said, trying to climb the walls.
“Night,” she said. “It’s obvious there’s something wrong. You told me that I wasn’t the problem, and that’s fine, but I’m worried about you.”
A spotlight blinded him as it burned into his eyes.
“I’m fine, Twilight. Really.” He didn’t need to see her eyes to know she didn’t buy that. So he gave her a half-truth. “It’s just been a while since I’ve done any groundwork. All the paper-pushing has left me a little restless, is all.”
Twilight stared at him for a moment before relenting. The spotlight turned away, and the dogs he heard barking in the distance quieted. “I get that. I do.”
Night released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“Sometimes the palace gets a little stuffy,” Twilight said. “Going from the freedom of adventuring to responsibility does take time to get used to.”
Night nodded as he felt the pressure release. “It’s true. Being in the castle was…” he trailed off, hoping Twilight would fill in the blank with something better.
She nodded. “Okay. Do you just want to enjoy dinner, then?”
He nodded. “I’d like that.”
Night took a fork and began to eat, chewing quietly as he relaxed. He’d escaped the Princess’s hounds tonight but needed to be careful. Twilight got close tonight, and if she figured him out, more conversations would be in his future.
He’d try to avoid them, of course. She didn’t need to know the issue for her own sake. Twilight had more important things to worry about than…well, himself.
This was his fault, and she didn’t have to worry about it. Night knew where he belonged, and it shouldn’t surprise him that this would happen.
He’d tried to make it work. Night tried to push forward and create a space for himself, but it didn’t work.
He ate quietly, appreciating Twilight’s hospitality. When they finished, Twilight teleported him back to Manehatten, and Night slipped quietly into the background as she made her recon plan.
Flash marched across the snow. The wind howled from up the mountain slopes, and snow came down in a thick curtain that cut visibility down to no more than a few feet. Flash felt the tug of the rope he’d tied around his waist, and he followed along to catch up with Sunset.
Flash had only been a pegasus for a few weeks, but he knew that flying in this weather would be a death sentence just by looking at it. Walking was bad enough without a way to know which direction was North, but flying without knowing how high he was along with it sounded like a great way to fly into a cliffside.
He got up next to Sunset and glanced at the compass she pulled out. “Still five degrees east of North?” he asked, yelling to be heard over the wind.
She gave an exaggerated nod. “We’re still on course. How much more light do we have?”
“A couple of hours,” he yelled. “It’s just a guess, but I’m not completely sure without a horizon I can see.”
Sunset muttered something to herself, and Flash thought she said something about a phone. “Do we start looking for a place to camp?”
Flash glanced up at the sky but couldn’t see the clouds—only the faint, gray light suffused the entire world and the yellow-white circle that marked the sun. “Let’s go a little further,” Flash said. “But we’ll need some light to make camp.”
Sunset nodded and pulled forward. Flash followed along, leaving just a bit of slack in the line that tied him to Sunset.
The world existed only for a few feet before disappearing into a white void that swallowed the stones of the mountains. He could only see the sun, whose full power barely pierced the clouds, and his legs before they disappeared into the snow banks.
The snow barely crunched under each hoofstep. Noise didn’t exist in the white void of the world beyond. Flash was alone in a world of quiet and white, with only a rope to connect him to someone else.
This was the kind of trip that Flash adored. Being so far from civilization that you couldn’t just go back meant he had to consider his situation, think about what was actually happening, and adjust. It made every moment a challenge and a puzzle he had to face daily. It made him feel alive.
Flash may never go into the army like he wanted, but he’d die before he’d let someone take the wild from him.
Even…even if things didn’t work out with Princess Twilight—which made sense; it had been years, after all—he had to admit that he loved Equestria. The air was so clean, and his fur helped keep out the cold.
Going back to the air, the lack of pollution also appealed to Flash. Sure, it meant there were no cars, but there was also no smog. That alone was great, but looking around at Equestria’s technology, he realized over a few days that this place might be the perfect mix of modern and backward. They had toilets, restaurants, refrigerators, and so much that made life more manageable without the oppressive sounds and smoke of cars, trucks, and computers.
If only he lived here.
Sunset paused again, and Flash caught up. “We still on our heading?”
“I thought so,” Sunset said, “but that’s the sun right there, right?”
She pointed at a yellow-white spot in the sky Northeast of them. Flashed looked to the south and west, where the yellow-white spot he thought was the sun.
He glanced back at the one in the wrong spot.
“Does the sun move in the wrong direction here?” Flash asked, his voice going quiet.
“No,” she whispered back.
“Then it can’t be the sun.”
She nodded. “I was afraid of that.”
The yellow light ahead of them grew, and a silhouette began forming in the whiteness beyond. A massive, rock-like figure lumbered out of the white, revealing a golem that glared down at them with a baleful, yellow eye.
Sunset and Flash glanced up at the terrible figure just long enough to recognize it for what it was before it swung. A massive rock-shaped fist slammed into the snow, and Flash and Sunset dived out of the way in opposite directions, letting the golem smash the rope that tied them together.
Flash felt the rope go taut and, making a split-second decision, turned back. He rushed backward toward Sunset and pulled the rope free from under the golem’s fist.
Sunset’s horn flashed to life, and a powerful beam of radiant energy slammed into the stone giant.
Sunset unleashed another beam into the golem before running to the side, Flash following right beside her.
He realized he was flapping his wings to move faster. He didn’t know he could do that.
The golem chased after them, moving slowly but intently after them.
“There’s no way you can deal with it, right?” Sunset asked. “Like you did with the other one?”
“Not with this visibility,” Flash said before he heard something woosh overhead. He looked ahead but could only hear rock slamming into rock, cracking under the pressure. The golem was throwing stones at them. Flash cursed and pushed Sunset to one side, hoping it was toward the mountain and not toward the side that would lead them tumbling down to the foothills below. A small outcropping appeared over them, along with darkness of deep shadows. Flash led her under it and turned to her. “What’s your plan?” he asked before another boulder slammed into the outcropping above them.
Sunset didn’t answer for a moment before grimacing. “I can try and take it apart, but it will be risky.”
“What do we have to do?”
“We’ve got to wait for the golem to attack, then I’m going to try and leverage the pieces apart.”
“Tear his arms and legs off? Alright. How are we going to manage that?”
Sunset cast a spell, and pillars of stone shot up from the ground, forming a small forest of rock trees that caused the yellow light that marked the golem to stop as it tried to recalculate how to move through the pillars.
“Now, here’s the risk,” Sunset said. “We need to get it to attack us so I can try pulling it apart.”
Flash looked down at the rope between them. “And that means we both need to get close.”
She nodded.
Flash grimaced but nodded. “Alright, then, we need to be quick.”
Sunset nodded again and shook her legs, getting ready to run.
The golem shifted through the pillars, trying to get closer to them.
Flash and Sunset moved slowly as they navigated the pillars, getting closer to the golem as it squeezed through. Sunset pointed with her hoof, “Get close. Once it strikes, I’ll try to pry the arm free.”
Flash nodded and scooted closer to the monster. Its bright, brilliant eye suddenly shot toward him, locking on like a military missile. The golem’s arm came over its head so quickly that Flash began moving purely out of instinct before the fist finished moving.
It flew down a split-second later in a thunderous blow that slammed through the snow and cracked into the stone beneath. Flash’s wings pumped instinctively, and he still felt the wind coming off the crash. He landed in the snow, feeling the rope go taut, before standing up in time to see Sunset grab the arm in a magical aura.
She pulled, and the Flash could hear the sound of groaning steel girders before something snapped.
The arm from below the elbow snapped and came loose, but Flash quickly learned that Sunse had a terrifying wellspring of magical strength. The broken appendage flew over Flash’s head before slamming into a pillar behind him, breaking it in half in a single strike.
“Let’s go!” Sunset yelled.
The golem swung again with its other arm, slamming hard into the space that both ponies had occupied a second ago.
Flash thanked whatever pegasi instincts he had that kept him using his wings to push ahead as he ran. Sunset trailed behind him, but the golem moved slowly through the pillars.
“Flash! Try now!” Sunset called.
Flash pulled upward to stop, gaining height instead of skidding into the snow. He landed a second later, next to Sunset, as the golem began moving through the pillars.
“Be careful,” Sunset whispered before Flash moved.
The man-turned-pegasus moved closer on his hooves, keeping his wings ready when the monster struck.
The giant first came up once more. Flash moved, leaping out of the way of the attack. Again, Sunset moved, grabbing the massive arm in her magical grip and trying to leverage the arm against the pillar.
The golem answered by picking up one leg and bracing it against the pillar. It tried to heave back and save its arm, but physics was against it.
Sunset pried the second arm loose, and it groaned under the pressure before snapping it off.
The golem staggered away from the pillar, hopping on one leg before falling over like a massive, drunken child.
“Flash! Help me!” Sunset cried before she ran toward the monster and threw her shoulder into its side. Flash realized in a second that she was trying to push it somewhere as the golem’s legs kicked wildly as it tried to get back up.
Flash joined her, pushing on the golem with all his might and again, instinctively using his wings to get more force behind him. The massive weight of the golem would have been impossible to move if not for the snow. The white, wet surface held under the gigantic bulk of the golem, while Sunset and Flash’s hooves were thin enough that they penetrated the surface, giving them more purchase. The golem acted like a giant ski, and that was precisely what they needed.
With a final push, they shoved the golem forward, and for a second, it hung on the edge of a steep drop before it rolled over the edge and fell, tumbling and bouncing off stones, outcroppings, and cliffs all the way down, until he was lost in the snow.
Flash glanced around and realized he could see more of the surrounding area than before. “The snow’s not falling as heavy,” he noted.
Sunset slowly turned to him. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
Flash looked over at her and blinked.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
Flash didn’t reply for a second. “I…I think. I’m just having a hard time processing this. We did it, but…”
Sunset nodded. “Come on, let’s go. We should probably set up camp.”
Flash nodded and stumbled after her.
---♦---
They set up camp, and Sunset tended to the fire, occasionally glancing at Flash as she did.
Flash was lucid, as far as she knew, but he wasn’t acting right. He seemed unnaturally calm for someone who had just fought a golem, with death just a wrong move away.
“You alright, Flash?” she asked again.
“I’m pretty sure I’m alright,” he said. “Is it normal to shrug off near-death experiences like they were no big deal?”
“Maybe,” Sunset said. “I’m not a psychologist. It could be, but I don’t know.”
Flash nodded. “Right. I suppose I’ll have to figure that out on my own.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“We were real close to being dead, weren’t we?” Flash asked.
“Oh, absolutely,” she replied.
“Like, we were very close to being dead. One wrong move, one half-a-second too slow, and we would have been pasted against the snow.”
Sunset nodded, watching Flash as he walked through what happened. He’d probably—
“And we were so good at it.”
He glanced over at him, confusion obvious on her face. This…this was not the reaction she was expecting.
“Like, I haven’t been trained for combat or anything, and we did great. I was dodging and diving and flying around without any issues. I’m a civilian, by all rights, and we stopped that thing. Heck, I took one out by myself.”
Sunset opened her mouth. “Well, yes, but I—”
“Is it this body? Do ponies naturally know how to fight?”
“No,” Sunset said. “You might have some instincts for flying around, but you definitely don’t know how to fight just because you’re a pony.”
“What about my other self?” Flash asked. “Am I somehow picking up his guard knowledge and—”
“Flash,” Sunset interrupted firmly, dreading the following words she was about to say. “That’s not how that works. You should know better. We just did a good job, that’s all. If you want to be technical, I have access to incredible amounts of magic and spells that you’d need to be the Princess’s apprentice to know. With that and your instincts, we could use the environment to stop it. We did a good job, but we shouldn’t let that get to our heads. Those things are dangerous, you know that. You just told me they were, but you can’t let the fact that we won cloud your judgment.”
She expected Flash to argue with her. He typically did whenever they had discussions about this back in the day. Instead, he stared at her and slowly nodded. “Yeah, no, that makes sense.”
Sunset stared at him for another moment, frowning, before she averted her eyes so she wasn’t staring.
Something had to be wrong with him. When they were dating, she’d always make comments to undermine his ego in every other conversation, about how he only had worth because Sunset was with him. She’d done it to try and manipulate him into staying with her longer. Still, it typically backfired into arguments before he realized it was an abusive relationship and dropped her like a hot rock. This conversation she just had with him was incredibly similar to one of those, and she tried to word it so that she didn’t make their victories all about her magic, but Flash had pushed back with less before.
Was he able to see this was the truth this time, or had he just not noticed? If he hadn’t, he was still off riding the adrenaline high, too much to see that her words were almost beat-for-beat what she did back in the day.
But he didn’t argue.
Maybe it was because he was still unfamiliar with his pony body. Perhaps he was following along with her because it was something he knew when he didn’t recognize his own sense of self.
She really needed to get this job done quickly. The longer she stayed in Equestria, the more she saw her old self trying to rise back to take the reins.
“Ha. Reins. Because we’re a pony again.”
The bad attempt at distracting her with humor didn’t alleviate her worries as much as she’d hoped.
She poked at the fire for a bit before getting out the cooking pot from her bag and getting a soup ready for them.
---♦---
Flash felt his cheeks redden with shame, hoping it didn’t show through his fur.
“That sounded exactly like the old her.”
It took him a second to realize it, even though his subconscious recognized the issue. His brain needed a second to catch up and decipher the annoyance he felt in his stomach after Sunset chided him.
It was all about her again. They both won against the golem because of her magic, not his efforts.
“But she didn’t say that,” the other half of his mind argued. “She’s just saying that I can’t let this go to my head, which I can’t. It’s a dangerous habit to get into. She’s right this time.”
So what if she was right back then? Would he have cowed to her when she told him how worthless he was?
“This isn’t like that!” he thought. “She’s not like that anymore. It’s ridiculous to think so.”
The more he defended her, the more shame he felt rising in his cheeks for thinking so poorly of her.
She wasn’t like that. Not anymore. Sunset wasn’t here to take over Equestria or whatever her stupid plan had been back when Twilight first came through the mirror. She was trying to help. She was being better, and he still couldn’t give her the chance she needed to prove herself.
Why was he like this? Why did he have to make this about his ex-girlfriend, who no longer existed, instead of who she was now? Why did he keep reminding himself about how evil Sunset Shimmer was instead of how much she was trying to be better and the best she could be? Why couldn’t he give her a break?
“How does Minnestrone sound?” Sunset asked.
“Great,” he answered automatically.
He watched her nod as she reached into a bag and pulled out a can of soup. The top of the can tore off with her magical strength alone, and the nearly-solid contents of the can slid free, landing in the steel pot with a hiss as cold soup hit hot cookery.
The cylinder of soup slowly filled the bottom of the pot, and it began to bubble, leaving a terrible, awkward quiet over the two of them.
Flash scrambled for something to say.
“You know,” he said. “You do great at backpacking on this side. I’d thought you would have been bad at it, considering you complained that one time I asked you to go with me.”
Sunset nodded. “I learned a lot from my first year of arriving in the human world. I complained because I just didn’t want to be there with you. I was just using you, after all. If you went off to backpack alone, I could do whatever I needed without worrying about how it looked.”
It felt colder today. Much like rain brought cool days in the summer, the snow brought a deeper, biting cold that went right through fur and coat to chill Sunset to the bone. The sky was clear despite the cold and the thick blanket of clouds overhead. Snow didn’t fall from the sky, and they still hadn’t seen any sign of hail, thankfully.
Sunset found that she could see up to the very top of Everhoof with the air as cold as it was. She could even almost see the Crystal Empire far to the South behind them.
Flash flew into view, and she watched him smile momentarily as he climbed the mountain. He looked so happy, backpacking through the Equestrian wilderness like he belonged here.
She looked away.
Pausing, she took a second for a deep inhale before she sat down and began to cast her Create Mind spell. Emerald’s Erastz Senses replaced her sight, smell, hearing, touch, and taste. The world transformed into a parody of itself.
The sky became featureless, the ground became a single tone of brown, and the snow lost all impurities around it. The eagle flying above them was a black line in the sky. The sounds around her became louder or quieter, matching a single decibel level. Her sense of cold was gone, as was her sense of heat. Despite that, she felt the wind slap into her in a gust that blew past her.
Once the spell was entirely in place, she began to look around. While Sunset could have used a more straightforward Perceive Energy spell to look for magic, Emerald’s Erastz held a very special place in her heart. As far as arcane mechanics went, it didn’t destroy her old senses or change them. Instead, she overpowered them with the ones she made.
Emerald’s Erastz specifically let her look for magic, highlight living organisms, listen in on whispered conversations, and more with just one spell. It took more energy to cast than any of them individually, but it gave her all at once in exchange.
Sunset looked around at the cartoon version of the world before landing on a cave not four feet from her. She blinked at it before temporarily dropping her spell to look at the real world.
The cave mouth was hidden by a mound of snow and deep shadows, but now that she knew it was there, she could tell the shadows were making it hard to see.
She raised the spell again, overpowering her senses again. The cave yawned before her, with a faint glow of Octarine deep inside.
Her brow furrowed as she stared into the cave before she dropped Emerald’s Erastz again and turned to her hiking partner. “Hey, Flash.”
“Yeah?” he said, walking up next to her. “What’s going on?”
“I think we’re close.”
“What?”
She pointed with her hoof. “There’s a cave right here,” she said. “And there’s a magical signature inside. It’s a little weak, but without knowing how deep the cave is, I’m not sure if it’s far away or just a weaker signature.”
He blinked. “I thought this worked like radar. Does it not?”
“No, Flash,” she said, suppressing a long-suffering sigh. “It doesn’t work like radar. It’s more like looking at something covered in a safety vest; the more powerful it is, the bigger it appears.”
“Oh. Gotcha,” he said before looking at the mountain wall beside them. “There’s a cave?”
Sunset nodded before reaching out with her magic to grab the snow. She shoved some to the side, revealing the cave beyond.
“Huh. I would have totally missed that.”
She nodded. “Anyway, there’s something in there, and if the tunnel’s deep enough, it could be hiding our crystal.”
Flash nodded before his brow furrowed. “But wouldn’t the spell you cast first have missed it then? I thought you had figured it was probably up here because you saw it, I guess?”
“Sort of,” she said. “But remember, the golems mean that somepony has the crystal. If they have it, they might be moving. I still could have been wrong, and it was just ley lines nearly surfacing.”
Flash stared at her for a long second. “Somepony?”
Sunset blinked.
“Did you just say somepony? Not somebody? Not someone?”
Sunset sighed. “Yes, they say somepony here.”
Flash stared at her as though she had just grown a second head.
“I’m serious Flash. It took me about three weeks to say somebody on your side of the mirror.”
“I’m going to choose not to believe that.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I think you’re trying to prank me.”
She could feel Flash’s look of incredulity being mirrored in her own face. “What? Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know. You kind of have a history of gaslighting me.”
She looked at him, blinking.
The smile on his face said he meant it as a joke, but the truth in the comment hurt.
Flash’s smile faltered for a second as she took too long to reply, revealing the pain she tried to smother. “I’m not lying to you, Flash,” she said, trying to push forward and salvage everything.
“Alright,” Flash said.
Sunset looked away from him and stared into the cave instead. She needed something else to take her mind off how much she ruined that conversation. “Let’s see if the crystal’s down here.”
Flash nodded.
And Sunset walked into the abyss.
---♦---
Flash walked behind Sunset as they descended into the depths of the mountain itself, and Flash just felt like he stuck all four hooves into his mouth.
“Why did I think that’d be a funny joke? Why did I think that’d be okay?”
He was trying to show her that he was moving on, that it wasn’t holding her past against her, but Flash had just shot whatever goodwill he’d been building with her all over again.
“Why does that happen every time?”
He let his shoulders slump as he walked, mentally kicking himself again.
Flash let his eyes wander, looking at everything around him except Sunset walking in front of him.
The cave’s stone walls were smooth and curved, and the tunnel wasn’t terribly big. It was maybe a foot taller than himself and maybe just as wide. Thinking about it, he realized that the tunnel was actually perfectly circular.
Was that normal? He was in a magical land of ponies, which could change things, but that didn’t mean this was what usually happened. Maybe this was a sign of a giant creature or something? He spoke up. “Sunset. Is it normal in Equestria for caves to be so…circular?”
She slowed before glancing around the tunnel as though suddenly registering something bothered her. “No. That’s not normal at all.”
Flash grimaced. “So what are we looking at? A large worm? Pony-made? A troll? Giant moles? Should we retreat?”
Sunset didn’t reply for a long second. “It could be a lot of those,” she said. “Any of them, really. Well, not the troll. They don’t dig their own holes.”
“Okay,” Flash said, sure that the Giant moles would be the breaking point, but he continued anyway. “And the retreat?”
“No, not yet. Because this could be pony-made, and the crystal could be at the end of it.”
“So how do we play this?”
“Carefully,” Sunset said as her horn began to glow with magical power. Flash, meanwhile, reached for the hatchet strapped to his bag.
Clutching the ax in one leg, Flash followed behind Sunset as they moved further and further down the cave.
Flash watched the cave walls, keeping his guard up in case a giant worm decided to break through the walls like the Kool-Aid man. However, now that he thought of it, he wasn’t sure that his little hatchet blade would be able to stop whatever dug this tunnel.
The tunnel was cold.
Much like on the surface, the stone had a snowy chill from the winter. His breath still came out in a wispy cloud, and he resisted the urge to lick his lips.
They went further and further down the tunnel, keeping close and quiet.
Sunset slowed, and Flash filled the distance, getting up right behind her.
He looked over her shoulder, trying to see what was beyond her, and saw a large room. It had been carved with perfect right angles in a cube that said it had to be cut by some force. Inside that room sat another one of the golems.
It sat, hunched over a mass of rags stained brown with old blood. “What is that?” Flash whispered as quietly as he dared.
Sunset kicked at him, urging him to silence as quickly as possible. She stared at him momentarily before her horn flashed with a spell. A moment later, he heard her voice in his head. “That’s a diamond dog,” she said without moving her mouth. “They’re notorious for hoarding gemstones. And, personal opinion, they stink.”
Flash blinked before he tried thinking a response to her. Was that how this spell worked? Did it connect two minds so they could communicate without speaking?
She smirked. “You look like you’re constipated.” Her voice echoed. “It’s one-way, Flash. I can’t read your thoughts. Well, I can, but that’d take a different spell.”
Ah. That made more sense. Still, that meant he didn’t really understand what a Diamond Dog actually was, nor could he ask. Even though Sunset continued lecturing, she wasn’t going in the direction he wanted.
“The dog must’ve sniffed out the golem with all the gems in it, but he wasn’t expecting the fight. At least this time, we haven’t gotten the golem’s attention.”
Flash tried to get her attention, but she began to back up.
Sunset glanced over at the golem. “We can probably just back away slowly. We can leave it if it doesn’t notice that we’re here.”
Leave it? Leave it so that it could sneak up behind them later. Flash shook his head.
Sunset hadn’t noticed.
“What did you expect?” The bitter part of his mind said. “It’s not like she ever actually listened to your opinion on anything.”
He ignored the thought and whispered. “Sunset.”
“Quiet,” Sunset said in his head. “We need to get going.”
“Sunset!” Flash hissed, trying to stay quiet.
She spun and glared at him. “We need to be quiet!” she said. “If that thing hears us, then we’re both going to be crushed.”
Flash tried to draw what he meant, but scratching his hoof into the stone only caused more scratches, and he didn’t have anything like paint with him.
“What?” she asked him.
Flash glanced back at the golem behind him. “We shouldn’t let this thing get behind us.” He whispered. He wanted to say more, but she was right about getting it’s attention.
Sunset glanced back into the monster’s room. “Okay,” she said. “You might have a point.”
Sighing, Sunset nodded. “Alright,” she said, still speaking directly to his mind, “I’ll try to think of something, but we need to be quick and get rid of it quickly. In the meantime, watch our backs for signs of something coming down the tunnel. Getting caught between two golems down here would be worse than getting caught out there.”
She had a point on that one. All the more reason not to let this one stay behind them.
---♦---
Sunset stared at the golem that continued staring down at the Diamond Dog’s body, trying to figure out how to play this situation. She had two tools in her metaphorical spellbook to make short work of the golem, but they both had problems.
The first was a Destroy Mind spell. Maple’s Mind Wipe would destroy the artificial intellect on each crystal, turning the golem into just a bunch of rocks. However, as she mentioned to Flash, the golems had multiple gems, and the spell would need to be cast for each. Worse, she’d have to locate all the jewels in the first place, which would require another spell.
Sure, Shale’s Simple Gem Finder would do it, but if the golem saw her while she was casting it, she might not have the time to destroy enough gems for it to become defunct.
The other option was to collapse the room.
This would take far less time; it would only be one spell, but the cons were more dangerous. Bringing the roof down while you’re under that roof was unsafe. If the room wasn’t built correctly—and Sunset doubted that the Intellect Crystal put the knowledge of architecture in them—then the room and the tunnel could come down all at once. It’d stop the monster, of course, but it might just as quickly kill her and Flash in the same way.
They’d have to try something else if those wouldn’t do it.
They could try dismantling the golem again like she had backed up on the surface, but that did mean she’d be putting herself in harm’s way just to try and take it down rather than attack from stealth.
She frowned, trying to puzzle this all out when she heard stone grinding behind her.
Her head spun, and she looked back to see Flash staring up the passageway, where a massive stone foot stepped into view.
The only thing that went through Sunset’s head as she watched a second golem come down the tunnel was a long string of obscenities that combined everything she had learned from both the human and pony worlds.
Flash was backpedaling, trying to stay out of arm’s reach of the massive thing, when they both heard the golem in the room begin to move.
She glanced behind, and the first golem was on its feet, its crystalline cyclopean eye locked on them both. Both of the stone, gem-powered creatures knew Sunset and Flash were there, and they both began raising their fists in answer.
“Scatter!” Flash yelled, even though he didn’t need to.
Sunset launched herself sideways, diving into the large room, as a pair of fists slammed into the ground. She rolled to the side and got her hooves under her just in time to see the golem’s second arm raised to crush her.
She leaped back, her mind registering that both golems were synchronized. They were linked somehow, performing the same movements in the exact timing and motions.
She began casting Shadow’s Earthen Spires, and the pillars she used to fight the last golem shot out from the ground. The golems answered by completely stopping to chase Flash and herself and smashing the earthen posts.
Flash ran up next to her. “What are they doing?”
Sunset glanced at the two golems smashing the area apart before she looked at Flash, horror in her voice. “They’ve learned.”
“What?”
“They’re connected,” she said. “They’re learning from each other. These ones learned from the other one. They’re learning every time we stop one.”
Flash blinked.
Then he swore.
“What do we do?” Flash asked as the golems kept smashing the pillars to dust.
Sunset tried to answer before one of the golems picked up a chunk of a pillar and threw it at the pair.
They dived away from each other, and the rubble smashed into the wall, kicking up dust.
She couldn’t use the pillars again. They learned. They probably knew about Flash’s rock-dropping method. Whatever method she came up with now could only be used one more time unless she somehow disguised her attack.
The two golems moved toward them, lumbering toward Flash and Sunset with fists raised.
With both golems here, her problem was even worse. One might see the trickery she pulled on the other if they were linked. She needed to deal with both of them quickly in one single move.
“Okay, Flash…” she said. “I have an idea.”
“What?”
“Just stay close,” she said. “And be ready to run for your life.”
She pulled the rope out first and tossed Flash an end as the two golems moved toward them faster.
Her horn flashed, and she cast Misty’s Marvelous Mist.
The world’s least-creatively-named spell took hold, flooding the room in a thick fog that hid everything from view.
She couldn’t count on the golems being blinded. In fact, it made more sense to have multiple gems that could perceive Body, Matter, and Energy all separately. This would let them see across numerous spectrums, and they’d be able to see Flash and herself through the fog. But if she were right, it would hide her next spell.
Sunset knew maybe five ponies besides herself that could cast two spells at once, and three of them were Princesses, and one was Starswirl the Bearded. Casting two spells simultaneously, and even just casting a new one while maintaining another, were rare skills that unlocked a lot of magic’s true potential. An Intellect Crystal, by itself, couldn’t do that, so it opened up the only chance she got.
“Open your mouth!”
A second spell caused her horn to flash brighter as she Transformed a small chunk of the wall beside the golems into the air. The pressure difference of ten kilos of solid stone expanding into ten kilos of air was like a grenade going off, pushing out a shockwave of energy that pounded on Sunset’s ears.
“Go!” she yelled.
She ran, tugging on the rope as she ran for the tunnel. The explosion echoed in the room, ringing in her ears, as stone cracked and the walls groaned. Sunset nearly ran straight into the wall and barely managed to avoid ramming it head-first before she pulled Flash into the tunnel with her. “Keep running!”
Flash moved up the tunnel, and Sunset turned back into the fog as the golems recovered from the air pressure explosion. She cast her spell again, and the room exploded again.
Sunset didn’t wait to see what happened; she just ran. Up the tunnel and after Flash.
Stone crumbled and cracked. Dust flew up behind her, and she ran.
Sunset saw the light at the end of the tunnel and knew she had to get out before everything came down around her.
Her face landed in something cold.
“Sunset? Sunset?”
She looked up, picking her head from the snow, and glanced at Flash.
Sunset couldn’t help but be impressed with Flash’s ability to set up a campsite without magic. He’d set the tent, started the fire, and boiled snow for a soup, all without magic or fingers. He stumbled a few times, dropped his tools once or twice, and burned a feather or two, but considering he’d been in that body for just under a week, he’d done amazingly well.
Once they set up the camp, Flash reverted to the first week they started dating and wouldn’t let her lift a proverbial finger herself. It had been a long time since she’d been pampered like this, and a small part of her felt guilty for it all over again.
She wanted to tell Flash to stop but couldn’t bring herself to do it. Every time, the words would get caught in her throat or make their way to the tip of her tongue before dying away.
Sunset quietly cursed her weakness but didn’t say anything as Flash passed her a bowl of soup.
“Here,” he said, holding the bowl carefully in his wings. Sunset took it in her magic and set it on the tent’s floor before her. Flash sat beside her, picking up his own bowl of steaming lentil soup.
The fire was blazing, and it almost made the tent too hot to bear, but given that they’d be freezing within minutes of it dying, Sunset didn’t say a word. Instead, she welcomed the sweat building on her forehead before the cold took its toll.
She spooned some of the lentils into her mouth while her mind wandered about Flash and her past.
She needed to move on. Really, she did. Spending her days thinking about how she mistreated everyone would stress her to an early grave. Despite that, she couldn’t help but think about how innocent Flash had been in those first few weeks of their relationship. Every time she looked at him, she couldn’t help but see a man who gave her more of his trust than any other person in the human world.
And she took that trust and shattered it.
Tore it to pieces.
He didn’t deserve all of that.
Again, that early grave, Sunset.
She spooned another mouthful of lentils into her mouth.
“Did these always taste this good, or is this my pony body?” Flash asked, breaking the silence like a window pane.
Sunset processed the question for a second before answering. “It’s your body. Even in humans, much of our sense of taste depends on what nutrients our bodies need. Certain foods taste better if they give you the right vitamins, minerals, carbs, or proteins.”
Flash nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve read about people who were lost at sea and started to crave fish eyes like candy after a while.”
Sunset glanced at him, a little confused, but he was face-deep in his soup and didn’t notice.
Sunset took another bite herself.
“Are you doing alright, Flash?” she asked before her mind could stop the words from leaving.
He looked up at her, confused. “Me? You’re the one that nearly got crushed by the mountain.”
“Yes, but…” Sunset began before stopping. She could let this die and not worry about it.
“I mean, I’m not injured or anything,” Flash continued, keeping the topic on life support. “I was ahead of you. Nothing fell on me. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” Sunset said, trying to smother the conversation with a pillow.
“Right. Since when do you do things without a reason?” Flash asked, performing incredible CPR.
“I just wanted to be polite,” she said, trying to stab.
Flash gave it a knife-proof vest. “That’s not your ‘trying to be polite’ voice.”
“Just forget I said anything,” Sunset said, going for the shotgun.
Flash had a body double. “Sunset, if something’s wrong, I need to know. You should tell me if you see a bruise or anything.”
Sunset suppressed a groan and dropped her head to the ground. “Flash… you’re impossible sometimes.”
“What?” he asked, exasperated.
Sunset gave up. “You’re going through a lot of effort to ensure I’m taken care of. You haven’t done that in a long time.”
“Oh…” he said.
The wind whipped past the tent.
“I…I dunno. I’m just trying to be better.”
Sunset looked at him. “You? Why do you need to get better?”
“Because you are, and I can’t let you for some reason.”
“What?” she asked, confused.
“You’re trying so hard to leave the past behind you, and I want you to,” Flash said. “I want you to leave the person you were behind and be this new Sunset everyone loved in high school. I just…I just can’t, and I don’t know why.”
Neither said anything for a long second.
“So, I dunno. Maybe I’m trying to make it up to you.”
“Make it up to me? Flash, I betrayed you.”
“I know you did. But that was also the old you, the one you’re trying to bury, and I respect that, but I can’t bring myself to let it go, even though I’m trying.”
Silence echoed in the tent.
“I’m sorry, Sunset. Don’t…I don’t want to drag up your past, especially since you’re working so hard. I don’t open up old wounds. Despite that, a part of me will never let me forget. I don’t know how to deal with that. My head knows you’re doing everything you can, but you have such a hard time separating the two anywhere else.”
Sunset didn’t reply for a long time. Instead, she let Flash’s words hang in the quiet between them for a minute too long.
“I see,” she said at least, though her voice sounded hoarse in her own ears as she said it. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Sunset hated how stiff she sounded.
The wind blew outside, howling into the darkness.
She couldn’t leave it there. Flash’s uncomfortable quiet told her he’d used much of his courage to tell her that, and if she didn’t respond appropriately, this could do more harm than good.
“You’ve done a good job so far,” Sunset said, mentally wincing at how awkward that sounded. “Honestly, I think this is the best we’ve worked together since…well, since forever, I think. We’ve never gotten along this well, and that can’t be all on me. You have given me another chance, even if things between us still aren’t quite right yet.”
“Yet?” Flash asked, some playfulness returning to his voice as he slowly returned to normalcy.
“I hope we can get there,” Sunset said, matching his tone to encourage him more. “Getting over your massive ego may take some time,” she smiled, hoping it wouldn’t hit a nerve.
“My ego?” Flash said, smiling back. “You’re one to talk. You may have been chipping away at it for a few years, but you’re still working with a mountain.”
“That just means I’m an expert in recognizing it. After all, it’s much easier to see from the top of Mt. Arrogance.”
Flash chuckled a bit.
Sunset smiled as a tension she didn’t know she was holding unwound in her back. It felt right that these were the tangible first steps into building something better. She had wanted this from Flash since the night she’d been broken by the Elements of Harmony and taken from the path of attempted world domination.
“Can I ask you a question?” Flash asked once he finished laughing.
“Sure,” Sunset replied.
“Were you really going to lead an army of teenagers into Equestria to take it over?” he asked. “Like no offense, but I don’t think we would have done much against spears and armor.”
Sunset frowned. “I’d…rather not after we just made some progress in dealing with my past.”
“If it helps, I’ll only judge past Sunset, and she’s a bitch. You’re way better.”
Sunset shook her head. “I was hoping to use the Princess’s kindness against her,” she muttered quietly. “Either she wouldn’t want to hurt the kids, or she’d show everypony that she was hypocritical and cruel the way I knew she was.”
The tent went quiet again.
“Man,” Flash said. “Old Sunset was a super bitch. I’m glad she’s gone.”
“I know what you’re trying to say. That old me and new me are totally different people, but it kinda still feels like you’re talking about me.”
“No. You’re cool, honest. You…you try a lot, and I respect that.”
Sunset nodded, and silence took over the tent again.
She didn’t mind it so much this time.
---♦---
Sunset cast Emerald’s Erastz Senses a second time and frowned. Her second casting of the spell didn’t change what she saw, and that only made this worse. Emeralds Ersatz changed how she perceived the world. Specifically, the sun appeared as a ball of pure, unadulterated magic. Its magical signature provided no light because Emerald’s Ersatz didn’t take light into account at all, yet the sun hurt her eyes despite that.
However, staring at the mountain around her, she found a matching energy signature burning in a tunnel.
She knew logically that it wouldn’t match the sun’s energy level even if it were the Crystal. The relative distance between the two was partially to blame, but she couldn’t help but feel awe at the thing.
She dropped the spell again and sighed.
“What did you find?” Flash asked.
“I think I found our gem,” she said.
“Really?” Flash asked.
“Yeah,” she replied.
“I mean, that’s good, right? We found it and the place where all these golems are being made.”
“That last bit is what I’m worried about,” Sunset said.
“Fair enough. So, how do we want to do this? Bring the roof down on them again? Stealth through? Gather the peasants and form a mob, complementary pitchfork, and torch included?”
Sunset rolled her eyes, but the question under his joke did need to be addressed.
“It’s probably better that we don’t get into any fights. Fighting a few golems will be dangerous enough without walking into the place where they’re being made.”
“Alright, Bravo Six, going dark,” Flash said. “Of course, in my experience, half of the time, a stealth mission only stays a stealth mission when you kill all the witnesses.”
Sunset sighed. “Yes, there is a chance that will happen. So let’s try to not get caught, alright?”
“Sure. Do you have anything to help us with that? Like an invisibility spell or something?”
“Invisibility spells aren’t reversible. If I cast one, I’d have to rebuild your visible form from scratch. So, unless you want my hooves all over your body, it’s not happening.”
“It’s not like it’s anywhere they haven’t been before.”
Sunset planted her face into a hoof. “Flash.”
“Hey, it’s true.”
Sunset sighed. “Besides, if I can get to my other point?”
“I won’t stop you.”
“Chances are the golems also see in different spectrums besides visible light.”
“What, like infrared?”
“Sort of. There’s no human-world equivalent because of the lack of magic, but it’s the same basic idea. It’s just magical auras instead of heat.”
“Alright.”
Sunset smiled. “You know, I’m kinda glad the humans have the technology they do. It’d be impossible to explain this to you otherwise.”
Flash shrugged. “You’re welcome, I guess.”
Sunset rolled her eyes. “Okay, let’s move carefully, stay low to the ground and close to the walls, try not to get out of sight.”
Flash nodded and followed closely.
Sunset moved into the cave, keeping her own advice and hugging the right-hand wall. She stayed low, her knees bent as she crawled into the tunnel. The walls were smooth but not cut like the previous tunnel. Stalagmites and stalactites sprouted from the floor and hung from the ceiling, respectively, revealing a hint of the ancient cavern’s age.
At first five feet across and barely wide enough for the golems, the tunnel widened to a massive size, revealing rooms that could have held houses. The smallest ones were perhaps the size of broom closets, but most were no smaller than her apartment back in the human world.
And walking in those rooms, patrolling back and forth, were golems. After seeing three separate rooms, they found the first golem, walking around the latest, apartment-sized room in wide circles.
Sunset glanced about carefully and waved Flash to join her. He slipped up beside her without saying a word or making a noise.
Sunset pointed to the golem and tried to figure out how to tell Flash they would get behind it without using any words.
He nodded to show that he saw the golem, but when she tried to pantomime getting behind it, he looked at her confused.
She grimaced and pulled Flash to the side, hiding behind a stalagmite as the monster came around to face them. As the golem lumbered toward them, Sunset hoped they’d stay hidden and glanced at Flash, trying to tell him what she meant a second time.
Flash shook his head in confusion.
Sunset sighed before glancing back at the golem and waved to Flash to follow her as it turned its back on both of them. She moved up right behind the golem, giving maybe three feet of distance, and glanced back to Flash.
He’d followed her without a complaint.
Sunset stuck as close as she dared, leaving just enough space behind the golem so it wouldn’t see her if it looked behind itself. It lumbered forward, crossing the room with the single-minded determination Sunset expected of a magic robot, before coming to the far side of the room, which narrowed into a natural corridor between.
And lumbering up from that corridor was another golem, staring straight at them.
Sunset jumped to the side, trying to hide behind a stalagmite, and Flash followed after, staying as close as he could without slamming into her.
Both golems turned to face them.
“Run!”
Sunset didn’t realize she was the one who said that until she was already halfway across the room. The golems rushed the two ponies, who ran for the cave mouth to try and get out as fast as they could.
One golem dropped to all fours before rolling up into a ball. It picked up speed horrifyingly quickly and rolled past both Flash and Sunset, lodging itself in the doorway.
Sunset realized a terrifying half-second later that it was keeping them from escaping so she couldn’t collapse the tunnel on them. She skidded to a halt against the smooth cave floor and turned. Flash took off, hovering in the room and trying to look for a different angle of approach.
Sunset looked at the golem behind them. It slowly approached, arms up and ready to strike, moving purposefully but cautiously. The golem in the passageway back to the mountainside didn’t move and remained curled into a ball. She turned to face the one that was still uncurled and ready. If that one was taken down, the one blocking the door might have to stand and fight them.
“Every time,” Flash said. “Every time I do a stealth mission, I always wind up pulling out the rocket launcher.”
“Less video games, more present, Flash,” she said. “Here’s the plan. We take out this guy, which should force the one in the door to try and stop us. That’s our way out.”
“Think we can do it?” Flash said.
“Sure,” Sunset said. “It’s just one golem.”
Flash frowned grimly. “Sure. I guess we can do that.”
A third golem came into the room, fists clenched.
“Okay, we need to fight two at a time,” she said, hearing the confidence draining in her own voice. “We’ve done that before.”
A fourth arrived.
“Sunset,” Flash said. “Why don’t you stop there.”
She didn’t reply.
A fifth arrived, and the four active golems all began to surround the pair of ponies.
“Do you have a plan?” Flash asked.
She didn’t. A thought passed through her head, but she couldn’t cast that spell and keep Flash alive. A wave of Destroy Mind could kill all the golems here. Without directing the spell, it would take out every gem at once, but it also would take out Flash.
A part of her hated her for even thinking that.
“I’m working on it.”
The four golems were closing in. Flash tried to dive-bomb one before a second golem grabbed him from the air and tossed him to the ground. Flash landed hard, rolling past Sunset as the four golems kept getting closer to the pair.
Flash had gotten back onto his hooves; he mainly appeared unharmed, but Sunset wasn’t sure he’d do much better hale than if he had a broken leg.
The golems moved closer still, raising fists and ready to bring them down.
Sunset ran through a handful of spells. She could start with a shield, which would buy her time, but if her defense broke, the magical backlash would foil any other attacks she could prepare. If the guard didn’t break, she might be able to use a Control Matter to dig into the ground and—
No, dig into the ground first. That way, the earth would protect her. She’d lose line of sight on the golems, but it would probably—
“Sunset,” Flash called.
“Working on it,” she said.
Dig into the ground. Morning Glory’s Mage’s Eye would let her see the golems, and then she’d have to try and break the golems to pieces. She’d have to use matter spells, but she didn’t have the pure magical strength to—
“Sunset,” Flash called again as the golems moved closer still.
“Working on it!” she yelled.
She’d need leverage, but she couldn’t summon any pillars without destabilizing the ground further, and the golems knew to break them anyway. She’d have to come up with something to—
“Sunset!”
“I need time!”
The golems were on top of them, arms raised and ready to pummel them both into a red paste.
Sunset’s horn began to glow; she needed time, but first, she had to live.
Night grimaced to himself as he, Ardent, and Twilight all stood on the roof of an office building not far away from the target warehouse. He wasn’t upset with the plan. In fact, that was good enough that he should be smiling. Twilight’s invisibility would let her get all the material they needed in a short amount of time. She’d hover over them for twenty minutes and then come back and use an illusion to project what she saw. The only thing that could have been better was if Night and Ardent could hover over the warehouse instead.
The plan made things so easy, yet despite that, Night couldn’t help but hate every second they stood on the roof.
Every moment Twilight stood there, the chances of her finding out what bothered him could come to the Light. If that did, if its brilliance revealed him for what he was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it.
“Okay,” Twilight said, staring at the distant warehouse as though she could make the building quake in fear. “I should be back in twenty minutes. There shouldn’t be any issues unless someone uses alarm spells to look for intruders.”
“And what are the chances of that, sir?” Ardent asked, directing the question to Night.
“Not high,” Night said. “Most unicorns are only going to worry about something crossing the walls. Pegasi aren’t known for turning invisible, after all.”
Twilight nodded. “Not to mention, getting an alarm spell into the air takes way more magical energy. We should be just fine.”
Night nodded and hoped she’d just fly off already.
“If you see the flair, move in carefully. The ponies down there may attack without knowing I’m the Princess, but they’ll know shortly. If they have some kind of brain in their heads, they’ll stop, and I may be able to talk them down.”
“I still don’t like that,” Night said. “Azure would kill me if he found out that rumors were going about the ‘Invisible Princess’ flying around. Many ponies are already complaining about how the Inquisitors are a government-mandated breach of privacy. If you get caught flying over a warehouse while invisible, it will make things worse.”
“Then I guess I shouldn’t get caught,” she said, smirking.
Night didn’t react to the attempt to make light of the situation. Instead, he watched as Twilight disappeared, and then he heard her wings flap as she took off. Night watched as she went and finally let himself relax slightly. The tension in his shoulders dropped a fraction now that she couldn’t learn the truth.
“Sir, is everything alright?” Ardent asked.
He knew the earth pony was there the entire time, but his sudden question nearly made him jump. The Spymaster turned to him and gave his best reassuring nod. “Everything’s fine, beyond the problems if she gets discovered.”
Ardent said nothing, staring at Night as they waited.
Night took a deep breath and focused back on the mission. Once Twilight got him a layout, figuring out where they make and store their money would be incredibly easy. Steps three and four of the plan would follow shortly. Depending on how collected the Scarlet Hoof was, they might have this whole branch dismantled by the end of the week. That would certainly be a nice change of pace, all things considered.
As Night was thinking through his thoughts, he heard the soft clop of hooves against the roof, and Twilight’s Image slowly came back into view as she began to build it back into existence. “Alright, it’s pretty simple,” the Princess said.
Night snapped back to attention. “Yes, Princess?”
Once her body appeared to be a vaguely Twilight-shaped blob, she cast her illusionary model of the warehouse.
Getting a top-down view of the warehouse helped immensely; the doors to the building were visible, and Night immediately saw five possible entrances. The two largest and most apparent doors, and therefore the one they were least likely to use, were the loading and unloading doors facing the docks and the street. The massive double doors on each side of the warehouse were open in the illusion, and ponies were frozen, moving large boxes inside.
Twilight noticed his attention on the tiny figures. “They were moving in something, I’m not sure what, but it looks like they’re storing whatever they work with inside.”
“If they have the evidence, why don’t we have the guard move in now?” Ardent asked.
“Because then the guards here will be fighting a large gang of criminals, which could spill out into the streets,” Twilight said. “Trust me, I’ve thought about this.”
“Yes, Princess.”
“If Night can do what he needs to, it’ll break up the group, and we’ll be able to deal with them better.”
Ardent nodded his understanding, and Night moved around to look at the warehouse from a different angle.
The skylight would be an excellent way in, but there didn’t appear to be any way for a non-pegasus to get up to the roof. The Scarlet Hoof didn’t leave any boxes or crates next to the warehouse for him to climb up to the top, so he’d have to climb up, which he could do by himself, but with Ardent following after him, it might not work out as well. That left two options: two side doors on opposite sides of the warehouses.
The one on the South side of the building opened up to the expansive yard filled with shipping crates that had been scattered around to appear busy to the passing eye. The North door, on the other hoof, was closer to the wall that marked the edge of the property. Despite that, the illusionary ponies gathered around the north door made it clear that the Scarlet Hoof had that door guarded.
“It looks like we’ll have to come in from the South.”
“We might need to head up from the South,” Night said. “We’ll have to cut across this area with the containers here, but at least we’ll have some cover that way.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” Twilight said.
Night tried to ignore that the comment came from Twilight and answered it anyway. “I know, but according to this—” He motioned to the illusionary map—“the South door appears the least guarded. I’d normally want to go through the skylight, but we’ll have to climb over the wall already, and I don’t know how quietly Ardent will do that.”
He glanced at the earth pony, who looked mildly offended at the implication.
“I don’t think you can’t do it,” Night said. “We just can’t afford to have too many hanging ropes, and if we come through the skyline, we’ll have at least one hanging from the ceiling. Going through the door will work better. Also, the guard doesn’t care if you grunt or groan as you climb.”
Ardent said nothing.
“Okay,” Twilight said. “It sounds like you need to plan from here. Let’s regroup at the safe house and go from there.”
Night grimaced before trying to hide the look on his face. “Sure, we can do that.”
Twilight, luckily, didn’t seem to notice the frown and nodded. “Alright, get close. I’ll take us there.”
They huddled together, and with a pop, they disappeared from the rooftop.
---♦---
Twilight stayed long enough for her to fix her Image and eat before she left for Canterlot. The entire time, Night did his best to answer her questions and give her the outline of his plan. Everything was reasonably straightforward, and Night finally relaxed that evening because he managed to keep her from figuring him out.
His Heart wished Night would tell her. She deserved to know.
Logic dictated that the less on her plate, the better.
Sitting down over the map of the warehouse he drew, he mostly had a plan in the works, ready to go, when Ardent slowly came around and stood in his field of view.
“Sir,” the Inquisitor-in-training greeted.
“Yes, Ardent? Is something wrong?”
“That’s what I’d like to know, sir.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were behaving strangely around the Princess, sir.”
Heart froze.
Logic stumbled.
“What?” Night asked, blinking.
“You weren’t acting…normally, I suppose I should say,” Ardent continued. “I just want to make sure everything is fine, sir.”
Heart panicked. Twilight knew. She had to know. If Ardent knew, Twilight had to. She saw him continue to struggle while out in the field, away from the supposedly stuffy palace, the excuse he tried to hide behind.
Logic stepped in. That was an assumption. There was no guarantee that Twilight would see anything. She might have missed it.
Heart roared back. There’s no way she didn’t. She knew there was still something wrong. Twilight knew he lied.
“It-it’s fine,” Night said. “I’m fine. I just…had some stuff on my mind.”
She has to know, Heart yelled. Twilight knows, and she didn’t say anything. What do we do? What on earth do we do?
Logic tried to organize everything. Twilight would have said something. She’s not going to let the problem go without doing something. She couldn’t have noticed, we’re fine!
“You’re sure you’re alright, sir?”
“Absolutely. I just need to get some sleep,” he said, standing and leaving his plans forgotten on the table. “We’ll be up late tomorrow, after all, so we’ll need to be rested.”
Heart despaired.
Logic tried to comfort.
“It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if you went to sleep yourself, Ardent.”
The earth pony nodded but said nothing as he kept his face in the perfectly impassive stare of the guard. “Yes, sir.”
Night nodded and went to his cot. He laid down, yawned, and closed his eyes as Heart and Logic roiled beneath him.
He didn’t get to sleep that night.
---♦---
Ardent glanced over at his boss, who looked three times as tired as he felt. Ardent had a hard time sleeping during the morning hours, probably because he was used to reverie getting him up at ungodly hours. He did get some good naps in, as any Soldier learned to do, however, but there was a faint sense of tiredness behind him.
Night, on the other hoof, looked like he hadn’t slept in the past twenty-four hours. Despite that, his movements were as sharp as ever, and Ardent couldn’t help but respect the physical discipline that the Spymaster possessed.
“Alright,” Night said, pulling a grappling hook from a saddlebag he wore. They stood in an alley a short sprint away from the warehouse’s Southern wall, their homeless disguises left at the safehouse. “I’ll change the shape of the scrying ring. We climb the wall, sneak across the yard, check out their production lines, and then find where they keep the money. After that, we see if we can sabotage their efforts and rob them.”
Ardent nodded. “Understood.”
“Move carefully. Use what you learned. I’ll help when I can.”
Again, Ardent nodded.
Without another word, Night lifted the hook up to the top of the wall and secured it tightly. He clambered over the border with practiced ease, barely making a sound as he moved. He reached the top in a second before peeking over the edge to look for anyone coming their way.
“Alright, come over, quick.”
Ardent followed him, grabbing the rope and climbing over as quickly, though noisier than Night had. He vaulted over the wall and landed on the other side like it was the old obstacle course.
Night landed next to him like a shadow and crossed the ground until he slid right next to the closest shipping crate. The Spymaster waved him over, and Ardent obeyed, almost compelled by the sheer confidence he exuded as he moved.
Ardent moved up right next to the unicorn and stayed quiet as he watched Night peek around the corner, keeping his head as low as possible. “A guard is making the rounds here. She’s slow, but that normally means they’re thorough. We must get ahead of her so we’re not held up.”
Ardent nodded his understanding.
Night peeked out again, and he picked up a small stone in his magical grip before tossing it to the left. A moment later, Ardent heard the ping of rock hitting metal and the commotion of ponies moving to check out the noise.
“Quick and quiet,” Night said before he rushed forward, ducking behind another crate further down to the right.
Ardent followed, staying low and close to the walls, letting his cloak billow and hide his form. He breathed out into a cloth mask and breathed in through his nose, cutting noise down further, and he found himself focusing on everything he learned so much that he nearly lost sight of Night.
Night moved like a shark in the water: quiet, fast, and single-mindedly focused. He took the corners at speed, pausing only long enough to check around the side to ensure he wouldn’t run into anyone.
Behind them, Ardent heard ponies talking, trying to figure out what made the noise, but their distraction wouldn’t last long, and they still needed to cross the open ground.
Night paused at a corner, and Ardent finally caught up and glanced back out with Night.
Forty feet of open ground waited between them and the warehouse.
Night eyed the space and glanced around, looking for movement, before he whispered. “Stay here and watch the roof of the building. If you see me wave to you, that’s the sign that the coast is clear.
Before Ardent could ask, Night cast a spell. A second later, Night was invisible.
Or, at least, he thought so until he felt a hoof guide his face upward. Night hovered in the air above him, posed as though he were holding Ardent’s face up before he clapped Ardent across the shoulder, and his form hovered across the open ground.
Ardent watched the transposed Image move before it looked around to the left and right, hovering as close as it could to the top of a stacked tower of crates before he appeared satisfied that nopony was watching them. Without waiting another second, the Image waved Ardent over, and the earth pony took a quick breath before he began to cross.
He moved as fast as he dared, trying to keep his muscles relaxed—as he had been taught—despite the tension of being caught growing in his gut. Staying relaxed would let him move quicker, but forcing himself to relax caused tension.
Ardent ran up to the door, and Night appeared next to him. “Can you pick a lock?” the Spymaster asked.
Ardent just reached to his belt in answer and pulled the picks free.
Ardent reached for the handle before the unicorn held out a hoof to stop him in his tracks. Night pressed Ardent against a wall and carefully pointed with a hoof to the right. Ardent glanced in that direction and saw a pony approaching them.
The faint orange glow of a magical light hovered over his head, and Ardent’s first thought was to stay out of that light. It didn’t matter that he wore clothes that would hide him in the darkness. If that light hit him, he might as well be dressed in bright white with reflective orange.
If he moved, though, his oversized silhouette would get the stallion’s attention quickly. He needed to—
Night picked up another rock and tossed it. It ping-ed on another shipping container. The incoming guard paused and looked toward the sound before he took a tentative step in that direction.
“Go,” Night hissed at him, and Ardent returned to unlocking the door.
The lock popped, and Ardent moved to open the door, but Night stopped him. “The lights are on inside.” Ardent glanced up at him, not understanding what he meant before Night held up Ardent’s cloak over the door. “Careful, open it just wide enough for us to slip through.”
Ardent obeyed and opened the door as carefully as possible, and the light from inside the warehouse burned against the darkness outside. If not for the cloak catching the light, it would have shone into the night like a beacon.
Night passed the cloak over and slipped inside. Ardent followed after and shut the door fast behind him. They stood in the warehouse, and Night smirked as he looked around at the warehouse around him. “Now, for the easy part,” he whispered.
“What’s the plan?” Ardent asked.
“Wait and see what comes up.”
“What do you mean?”
“We have to find those crates that came in last night. If they’re still here, it’ll show us everything we need to know.”
“How do we know which ones they are?”
“They’ll be the ones that look like they’re ready to move. Everything else here is set dressing.”
Ardent glanced around, looking, and saw some crates packed off to the side and covered in a tarp. They were also guarded by three ponies armed with bats, pipes, and a single sword.
“That has to be them, right?”
Night glanced at them and smiled. “A bunch of random crates being heavily guarded in the middle of a warehouse filled with ponies? Absolutely. Good eye.”
“How do we get over there without drawing attention?”
“Leave that one to me.”
“Sir?”
“I’ve been doing this kind of thing for years. You let me worry about what’s in the crates. You got here without alerting the guards. We don’t need to hide anymore. Your guard training can take over from here. Go make some chaos. I’ll take care of the rest of the plan. Give me five minutes, then meet me back at the safe house.”
Ardent nodded, a little disappointed that he wouldn’t dismantle the gang after getting up here, but the prospect of messing some things up did make up for it a bit. After all, he should leave that kind of work to the Spymaster himself.
He began moving away from Night, smiling as he picked up a wooden board.
“Hey!” a voice called from across the warehouse.
Ardent smiled before he cocked back his leg and threw the board like a javelin. The wood smashed into the pony’s face, and he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.
Someone else yelled, and ponies began to close in.
Ardent let them come, but he did keep count. Just because he had a talent for beating ponies up didn’t mean he could let himself get carried away. That’s a beautiful way of getting yourself hurt.
Four ponies rushed him. Just enough for a challenge.
One came in swinging with a baseball bat, and Ardent answered by lazily moving out of the way of the wild swing. Ducking under the attack, he brought up an uppercut that caught his attacker in the jaw and sent him sprawling.
Ardent grabbed the bat and smiled. “Let’s see who can make my night?”
“What is the meaning of all of this?” the new voice called again, and Sunset watched as the golems all shifted in place, appearing far less threatening than they had a second ago.
A unicorn’s silhouette appeared in the opening to the next chamber, and a yellow light shone to spray across his face and light up the room.
He appeared older than Sunset assumed from his voice, but his brass-colored coat did little to hide the wrinkles in his face. A thin, red mane that stood only on the top of his head made her think that the stallion was somehow badling in reverse, and a lemon-green cutie mark of gear gave Sunset only the faintest idea of what he did.
“Ah! Guests!” the old stallion said with a smile.
Flash and Sunset looked at each other.
“Excuse my manners!” the stallion said, holding out a hoof. “I’m Doctor Tinker Trot. I have PhDs in Arcanobiology, Arcane Sciences, and Mind Creation, and you are?”
“Um, Sunset Shimmer,” Sunset began.
“Celestia’s old pupil?” The Doctor interrupted. “My, you don’t look a day over twenty-five! You may not have become a full Alicorn, but I can see your studies did you well!”
Sunset just smiled and nodded.
“And, uh,” Flash said, stepping forward and giving the golems a sidelong glance. “My name’s Flash Sentry. I’m here as a guard for Miss Shimmer.”
Sunset glanced at the golems herself, and they stood stock-still, like statues.
“Of course, of course!” the Doctor said. “We can’t have one of Celestia’s pupils alone in such a dangerous place. I can’t tell you how many wild animals my golems have had to ward off.”
“Your golems?” Sunset asked.
“Ward off?” Flash asked before shooting Sunset a look. She could tell by his face that he wasn’t sure ‘warding’ was what these golems were doing. The other thing Sunset clearly recognized in Flash’s eyes was that she was very interested in the fact that these golems seemed to belong to the Doctor.
“Come, come in!” the Doctor said, waving them inside the next room.
Sunset and Flash both glanced at the golem surrounding them before anyone moved. The golems stood still, doing nothing. After another second of stillness, Sunset and Flash finally moved. The Doctor smiled as he watched them and eventually turned his back to them.
And Sunset and Flash froze.
The back of the Doctor’s head, where his mane ended, had a massive, hoof-sized, yellow gem embedded into his flesh.
Flash looked at her, eyes wide, asking without words if that gem was what he thought it was. She winced, letting him know that she really hoped it wasn’t.
They tried to follow, acting as though the unspoken communication didn’t happen, and they continued on after Doctor Trot as calmly and casually as they could manage.
But Sunset could feel the golems staring after her as she moved into the next room.
“I hope the golems weren’t too rough with you,” the Doctor said, leading through the cave’s next chamber to one more beyond that. “I’ve had a few incursions of diamond dogs and other less-savory things try to make their way in. It got bad enough to set up a guard, and well, sometimes the term intruder is too broad for simple magic minds.”
Sunset glanced at Flash, who remained quiet, before speaking up. “Well, we’ve managed so far.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Doctor Trot said before leading them up to a stone door set flush in a smooth cave wall. “Come inside where it’s warm. I do apologize for the mess but try not to touch anything. It is my lab, after all.”
The door opened, revealing a cozy home inside—a fireplace pulsed with heat made from a magical gem, warming the stone around them. Stone tables, either expertly or magically carved, dominated the middle of the first room and were covered in papers and magical apparatus for measuring magical output and testing the strength of spell matrices. Sunset could see two other rooms, each leading off in a different direction.
“It is not much,” the Doctor said, “but it’s my home away from home until I crack this.”
“Crack what?” Sunset asked.
“The key to creating true magical sentience,” he said with a smile. “Have a seat, please. I’ll help fetch us some lunch. Prototype! Get me and two guests something to eat.”
The sound of stone grinding against stone sounded from one of the doorways.
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re referring to,” Sunset said. “Are you talking about forging new Intellect Crystals? The Princesses have known the methods of making those for Centuries. The information isn’t lost.”
Doctor Trot smiled wider as he pulled up some chairs. “No, no, no. I don’t want to make an Intellect Crystal. My research points to them being more useful as weapons of mass destruction or wellsprings of knowledge. No, I want to make life. Real life, something that grows and learns.”
Flash glanced over at her. His face said that he was trying to gauge how crazy that sounded.
“That’s…an interesting field of study,” Sunset said.
“It sounds insane,” Doctor Trot said, moving some items on the table. “I’m fully aware it sounds like an attempt to recreate Frankenhoof’s monster. You don’t need to hide that from me.”
“Then…why do it?”
“Because having a workforce that can be created in months rather than years can revolutionize how Equestria does anything: Economy, Military, Law enforcement, everything. The Princess could use my new system for making golems even to fill out her Inquisition mandate and have the ponies she needs in half the time.”
“Sure, but isn’t that still slavery? And still illegal?”
“It can be if the wrong seed is planted in the wrong pot, but I can ensure that doesn’t happen,” the Doctor said. “But I’m sure once I’ve perfected the process, the Princess might change her mind. She’s a scholar, like us, after all.”
Sunset felt a ball of discomfort land in her stomach at the comparison, and Flash mirrored it, equally disturbed by the comment.
“Couldn’t you…since you have one,” Sunset said, trying to move past the scholar remark, “re-discover how to make an Intellect Cyrstal? You could have just asked it. I’m not sure the grafting it would have been necessary.”
“So you noticed?” Tinker Trot said, smiling as though it weren’t obvious. “I could, but quite frankly, I don’t necessarily trust the Crystal to be truthful with me.”
“So you stuck it into your head? Because you didn’t trust it?” Flash asked, speaking up for the first time since they entered the lab.
“I grafted it so that I could access its information directly. I don’t need to ask the Crystal and determine what’s truth from lies. I can simply know.”
“At the cost of having to experiment,” Sunset noted. “Otherwise, you would have already figured out how to do what you need by now.”
“Exactly,” the Doctor said as he finished cleaning the space for them. “Sit, though, please. I’d hate to think my time here on the mountain has left me an insufficient host.”
Sunset sat, and Flash hesitantly followed after her, sitting in the third chair as the Doctor smiled at them both.
“So, I have to ask, before curiosity burns me alive, what brings you two up here?”
“We’re studying Leylines,” Sunset said. “Rather, I am. Flash is just my guardian while I’m here. It’s a shame Leylines aren’t closer to city centers, am I right?”
“There’s one in Canterlot,” the Doctor noted.
“There is,” Sunset said, her brain already forming an excuse as soon as she heard it, “but…well…”
“Well?”
“How…familiar are you with my apprenticeship under Celestia?”
Tinker Trot hesitated for a second. “I know you didn’t finish.”
“I left Celestia on some fairly poor terms,” Sunset said. “It’s all my fault in retrospect, but I simply can’t work in that environment again without remembering what a brat I was.” Her brain added a tremble to her voice for a little extra effect. “Anyway, I still needed to look into Leylines, and I couldn’t study in Canterlot, so Princess Twilight offered to send some protection with me to Everhoof.”
“I see. It seems I hit a sensitive subject. I hope I didn’t cause any distress.”
“It’s fine,” Sunset said, waving the comment away before rubbing her eyes as though to dry tears away. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
At that moment, a different kind of golem, built to be no larger than a colt or filly, approached with three bowls of warm stew. Barely reaching over the table, the golem served each of them before it retreated back into the kitchen.
“I have to wonder in return,” Sunset began, stirring the stew with the spoon that came with it. “What are you doing here? You could craft golems anywhere in Equestria, couldn’t you? Leylines don’t affect construct creation, as far as I know.”
Dr. Trot nodded. “You are correct there,” he said. “However, with the exceptions of a few Rock farms out on the outskirts of Equestria, Everhoof has the highest concentration of geodes and lacks the kind of ponies that would see my work as heretical or something equally trivial. For my safety and theirs, isolation is preferred. The cold, however, I could do without.” He smiled at his joke, and Sunset smiled back.
“Couldn’t we all?”
“So what is your Leyline study about?” the Doctor asked.
“Unfortunately, I can’t say. It would make both Princess Twilight and Princess Cadence very upset with me if I broke confidentiality.”
“Work for Equestria and the Crystal Empire?”
“I probably shouldn’t have said that much,” Sunset said, scooping up a spoonful of stew, “but I feel like I can trust a fellow scholar to keep some secrets.”
The Doctor smiled. “Well, perhaps. We are also known to hate mysteries.”
Sunset nodded her agreement and continued to eat her stew.
---♦---
Flash watched as a switch flipped in Sunset’s head. When they both met Dr. Trot, they’d been on the back foot, doing their best to gauge where exactly they stood with the strange man—or stallion, whatever—and hoping that he wouldn’t kill them.
And then, Old Sunset came back. The one that could lie as naturally as she breathed and could pull the right strings in the right places, and Flash had never been happier to see her.
Right now, they needed that manipulative little bitch, and she didn’t disappoint. When she finished talking, the Doctor looked apologetic for prying and went to his stew quietly. She did a fantastic job, and Flash hated that it was Old Sunset that did it.
“Well, I would hate to interrupt your research,” the Doctor said, “but I would also hate to have you all kicked back out in the cold. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll carve a guest bedroom for you to stay the night.”
Flash did not like that idea.
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense,” Doctor Trot replied. “I couldn’t throw you into the wilderness like that. Please, stay.”
Flash looked over at Sunset, telegraphing on his face that he didn’t want to stay. She only gave him a pained look in return, one that said she didn’t want to either, but they had to.
“If you insist,” Sunset said, and the Doctor nodded before he spoke up. “Prototype! Start clearing space for a new room.”
The small golem returned from the kitchen and began to work quickly, moving a table on the fireplace side of the room out of the way.
Flash moved up to Sunset’s side and frowned at her.
She gave him a soft nudge in response as she turned to face Tinker. “Actually, Doctor, could we head into the kitchen while you work?”
“Oh, of course,” the Doctor said. “Go ahead, by all means.”
Sunset nodded and slipped to the kitchen, and Flash followed close behind. Once they were far enough inside, Flash turned on her. “What are you doing taking the invitation?” he hissed. “That guy is going to kill us in our sleep.”
“If I don’t, it will be rude and suspicious,” Sunset whispered back. “Then he’ll kill us while we’re awake!”
“How is it rude?” Flash asked.
“Hospitality rules. We’re his guests. He’ll take care of us, and we must be thankful and polite.”
“So it’s an excuse to get us murdered?”
“If everything works out, and he follows the rules like we do, he won’t kill us while we’re asleep because we’re his guests. This is a deep part of Equestrian culture. He should follow it.”
“Sure, because the guy talking about playing god is super concerned about societal norms!” Flash said before catching himself and hoping he wasn’t talking loudly.
“Yeah, so being rude to him is the wrong move,” Sunset said. “We’re not in a good spot here. If we turn him down, he won’t take it well. If we accept his offer, there’s a better chance of us leaving here alive. We’ll just have to take watches.”
Flash wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose. Of course, he no longer had fingers to pinch with, and the bridge of his nose took up most of his face. So, instead, he draped his hoof over his snout.
“I don’t like it either,” she said. “I’m just trying to make sure we both get out of here alive.”
Flash sighed. “Alright. Alright. So we’ll set up a watch. He probably can’t fit the bigger golems in here anyway. So we’ll just have to worry about him and the small one he keeps around.”
Sunset nodded, and they both took a second to glance back out the kitchen door, where the Doctor worked, casting spells as the gem in the back of his head glowed like a light bulb.
The look on Sunset’s face was the only thing he needed to see to know that was concerning.
“You know,” Flash said, breaking the silence between them. “I don’t know if we would have made it through the conversation if Old Sunset weren’t a bitch.”
“Thanks, but you didn’t need to bring that up.”
“Silver lining.”
“Sure.”
A few minutes later, the Doctor emerged from a newly carved hole in the wall with a smile. “There you go. I hope you don’t mind it’s only sparsely furnished. I still don’t quite have a hang on the Transform technique. I can see, however, why Celestia had the Destroy one controlled so tightly.”
Sunset nodded. “Trust me, it can be infuriating how right she can be.”
Trot nodded and motioned them inside.
The room had a door, which Flash was thankful for, and a pair of beds that he hoped would be comfortable enough to sleep but not too comfortable that they’d both drop into unconsciousness lying there. A washbasin had been set up for them as well, though there didn’t seem to be a toilet.
“The washbasin is connected to my simple plumbing setup. Snow from the surface is heated over the fireplace and then stored in a nearby cistern that keeps it liquid until it needs to be used,” the Doctor explained before he pointed all the way over to the last remaining doorway. “The bathroom, unfortunately, is through my own bedroom, so I’ll ask that you do your best to be quiet if something happens late at night.”
“Of course,” Sunset said.
The Doctor nodded. “I hope you’ll excuse me for now, but I do need to return to my work. We’ll have dinner at six.”
“That sounds more than acceptable.”
With that, Doctor Trot nodded and returned to his table and notes.
Flash glanced at Sunset again, but she simply shrugged, set down her saddlebag, and unpacked her supplies.
Flash looked around himself one more time as though hoping something would get him out of this situation.
Nothing presented itself.
He sighed and began unpacking.
---♦---
Dinner was honey-braised turnips, and Sunset couldn’t believe it had been so long since she had some good turnips. Though, that was probably her pony body talking. As the evening went on, the Doctor spent less and less time with his guests and more time hunched over his formula and spell matrix diagrams.
If Sunset were honest with herself, the fact that the Doctor wasn’t talking to her gave her a strange sense of relief. When she spoke to the Doctor the first time, her mind didn’t even register that Old Sunset had bubbled up to the surface. It wasn’t until Flash said it that Sunset even thought to look back at the conversation and the manipulation that she fell back on like an old favorite chair.
Now that it had been brought to her attention, she felt disgusted with herself that it had been so easy.
The only thing that offered any kind of comfort to Sunset despite her backsliding was Flash’s comment that they’d probably be dead if it weren’t for it. Telling herself that survival was an acceptable excuse this time helped her, but the knot in her stomach hadn’t untied itself completely.
Sunset looked over at Flash as he sat on his bed. The metal frame had simple springs that could be Transformed from stone, but cloth and feathers were made from organic materials, and Transform couldn’t make that change. Instead, the springs were covered in multiple layers of extra blankets that the Doctor offered instead of a mattress.
Flash frowned as he sat on the bed. “Well, it’s not memory foam, that’s for sure.”
“Not by a long shot,” Sunset agreed.
Flash jumped off the bed and reached for his pack, where he unrolled his bedroll and laid it out on the bed. “I think this is just barely better than the floor.”
“Just barely,” Sunset agreed.
“At least we won’t have to worry about the wind tonight,” Flash said before closing the distance between them. “Who’s taking the first watch?”
“I will,” she said. “Of course, I’ve also just realized there’s no light in here. Once the door closes, it will be pitch black in here.”
“We’ll do what we have to,” Flash said. “I think I have a piece of wood in my pack that could become a decent torch.”
“Have it ready,” she said, “and get some sleep.”
Flash nodded and slipped into the bedroll. Meanwhile, Sunset closed the door, plunging the room into darkness.
Sunset decided that Transforming her eyes to be better suited to the dark was the best option. She could have cast a light spell, and even though the energy needed to sustain the magic was minimal, it would still prove a waste.
Of course, she could make her eyes reflect as much light as possible, but it didn’t change the light in the room, which was very close to none.
Sunset stared at the deep shadows of the bedroom and tried to see if she could pick out the details.
She couldn’t.
The only thing Sunset could pick out easily was Flash’s silhouette and his soft breathing. It felt strange how familiar that sound was. It didn’t have a right to be so soothing to her soul, but it had been a long time since she shared a bed with anyone, which might have influenced her judgment.
When Sunset first got to the human world and found herself a teenager, she quickly deduced that she could just use the hint of sex as a weapon, much like everything else. Just the implication of someone having no, some, or too much sex could make or break reputations in the world of a High School. Sure, the hormones rushing through her brain as a teenager were also somewhat distracting, but Sunset still liked to think that she managed to overcome the thumping rush of adrenaline in her brain and exert control.
To this day, though, she had no idea why humans were always so—
A thump-thump sounded from behind the door.
Sunset tensed, ready to jump into action, fur standing up on the back of her neck as her thoughts screeched to a halt.
Ten quick heartbeats passed. Then twenty. Forty.
Nothing.
She sighed and slowly let herself relax. Nothing. This was the second time she heard that; like last time, nothing happened. The darkness was not helping her nerves, though. Shaking her head, she rubbed her face and tried to stay awake a little longer. It might be one in the morning for all she knew, but it certainly felt like that was correct.
Her eyes moved around the room again before landing on Flash, whose sleep hadn’t been disturbed by the noise beyond the door. Beyond a mumble in his sleep, he didn’t even seem to notice. All the better, really; she didn’t need him waking up for a little while, and he needed to be alert.
Then again, waking him up now instead of thirty minutes from now wouldn’t make much of a difference.
Sunset bit back a yawn that threatened to sneak up on her and tried to refocus. She just needed to make it to the end of her shift, and then she could sleep. Until then—
Thump-thump.
Her eyes shot for the door, heart beating at a mile a minute as the sound came again. What could that noise even be? If it were the Doctor’s apparatus, they would crash to the floor rather than that distinct double-thump. It had to be something else; this was the third time it’d happened all night. These last two had been so close to each other, but that didn’t explain anything either. Just asked more questions.
A minute passed, and nothing happened.
It couldn’t be the paper notes. They didn’t have the mass behind to thump like that. It’d sound more like that rattle only paper can make as it fluttered through the air. That had to be something heavy but soft. Otherwise, it would crack against the stone floors.
It had to be something else, and the time between them was shortening for some reason. She still had ten to fifteen minutes left in her shift, and Sunset knew she shouldn’t wake Flash until then, but the thumping continued to worry her.
Thump-thump.
She crossed the room to Flash’s bed and shook him awake. “Hm—?” he began before Sunset clapped a hoof on his mouth.
“Quiet,” she whispered, getting as close to his ear as possible to keep her voice as quiet as possible. “Something’s been thumping on the other side of the door. I don’t know what it is, but it’s been happening more and more frequently. I think something’s going to happen.”
Flash slowly pushed himself up, probably unable to see a thing in the dark. And fumbled for the saddlebag he set next to his bed.
Thump-thump.
His head snapped to the door, even though he couldn’t see.
Sunset stood there with a held breath as she stared at the door. No other sounds could be heard beyond the door. Flash’s body visibly tensed as he prepared to pounce on the door.
Nothing.
After what felt like ten minutes, Flash moved to grab his bag once more. He finally found his bag a moment later and pulled the hatchet free.
Thump.
Only one. Just one thump.
Sunset wasn’t sure what that meant. Was the Doctor finished with whatever he was doing over there? Was it some sort of trap he’d set up, or was there something else beyond the door?
Neither she nor Flash said a word. They both stared at the door, waiting and listening.
The door cracked open.
The light nearly blinded Sunset, her eyes now too used to the darkness. Her eyes squinted shut without thinking, but she heard Flash roar a battle cry and charge. Metal clanged, the sound of struggling sounded, and Sunset still couldn’t see for the light. She cast her transform spell, but without the time for some finer control, the best she could do was make her best guess and finish.
Two blurs fought before her, one yellow, the other stone gray. She’d made herself nearsighted and now had to fight with the weird shapes in front of her. Still, she moved forward, spells at the ready.
“Fly!” Sunset called as she cast, throwing a wave of force that threw both blurs out into the main room. The yellow blur paused in the air, but the gray one flew into the far wall.
“A little more warning would be nice!” Flash said.
Sunset ignored the comment, her brain thinking more than fighting. The gray blob had to be Prototype unless the Doctor covered himself in soot before trying to fight.
“Where’s the Doctor?” she asked.
“I don’t see him,” Flash said.
The gray figure leaped at Sunset, flying through the air like a frisbee that became easier to see the closer it got. Prototype slammed into her, a body of stone that hit her like a truck. A stone claw that was once a hand raised to impale her, and she cast a shield to protect her as it came down.
Sunset cast a second spell as the shield held and launched Prototype into the ceiling.
“The golems are all connected to the Intellect Crystal!” she yelled. “If we get the Doctor to call them off. Then we can work from there.”
“On it!” Flash said, and the yellow blur flew for the Doctor’s room.
The gray blob fell from the ceiling, returning into focus as it landed a foot away from her. Sunset picked him up in her magical grasp and tossed him across the room again, thankful for its much smaller build than the ones outside. Prototype smashed into some glass she didn’t see and slammed into the wall with an audible crash.
“How bad did I mess my eyes up?” She thought, taking another second to adjust them the other way. Her vision shifted wildly as her eyes changed shape, and now, instead of blindingly close nearsightedness, she was farsighted but better off than she was, at least.
Prototype was splayed across the ground, picking himself up when Flash jumped out of the room. “The Doctor’s asleep!”
“What?” Sunset asked.
“I tried to wake him up but couldn’t even get him to open his eyes!”
The thought was making its way through her brain, but Prototype was closing the distance on them again. “I’ll try, keep that thing away from me.”
“Sunset!” Flash called before groaning and leaping at the small golem.
She burst into the Doctor’s spartan room and found him smiling and sleeping on a cot. She ran up and slapped him, grabbed his withers, and began to shake him.
If this were a subconscious action—a stray thought that leaked from his brain into the crystal—that might explain why the Doctor was still asleep. If they woke him up, he might stop the attack completely. He just needed to wake up.
She slapped him again, and all he did was snore.
How could the Doctor be this deep of a sleeper? This was ridiculous. This…this might be magic.
Sunset dropped the limp form of the Doctor and cast Emerald’s Ersatz. The Doctor was covered in the bright yellow magical aura of the Intellect Crystal.
It took a second for her brain to make the assumptions she needed. The Intellect Crystal had the Doctor down in an enchanted sleep. Nothing was going to wake him now.
And then her brain put together the last piece of the terrible puzzle.
The Doctor didn’t want them dead. The crystal wanted them dead.
“Flash!” she yelled and ran out of the room. “Flash, we have a problem!”
“You’re telling me!” the pegasus said, pinned by the golem. He held it at arm’s length, the hatchet’s handle against what passed as the golem’s throat, claws getting closer and closer to Flash’s face with each swipe.
Sunset picked Prototype up again and tossed him away once more. “We need to leave!”
“What about the doctor plan?”
“New plan! Leave now!”
Prototype jumped for her, and Sunset answered with a pillar of stone that shot up from the ground, pinning Prototype to the ceiling. The foal-sized construct answered by digging its claws into the stone and pulling away clumps of rock.
“Grab everything!” Sunset yelled. “We need to go!”
They both rushed for the bedroom and grabbed their bags, where the sound of tearing stones let them know that the golem was getting closer to escaping. “How will we get past the golems outside the door?”
“Right now, I want to survive the golem in here.”
Sunset grabbed her coat and stuffed it in her mouth. She didn’t have time to put it on right now. Flash was behind her, grabbing everything he could and putting his coat on.
“We don’t have time!”
“We have to!” Flash replied.
Sunset ran out of the room toward the door, where the small golem pulled more stones out of the rock pinning him to the ceiling.
Prototype freed himself from the column and leaped at Sunset, identifying her magic as the more significant threat. Sunset answered with a wall of stone that shot up from the ground, slamming into the ceiling and shutting them off the rest of the house.
Sunset turned to the door and saw Flash opening it wide to reveal boulders stacked up to block the path. The golems outside had blocked their way out, and Sunset realized, to her horror, that was the source of the sound of the thumping she heard.
They both cursed, and Sunset once again wished she’d gotten more practice with teleporting.
Prototype’s claw burst through the stone wall, and he clawed in, staring at them silently with its terrible, yellow eye.
“Alright,” Flash said. “What now?”
Sunset turned back to face the wall, and the golem clawed his way through the opening. Sunset gulped and realized she was staring death in the face.
“Sunset?” Flash asked.
“Flash. I’m going to try something,” she said, her mouth dry. “And we might live.”
“Might?” Flash asked.
“Or we might become stuck to each other on the molecular level or torn to pieces. I don’t know. I’ve never mastered this spell.”
Flash looked away from Prototype, clawing his way toward them, and looked at her.
She laughed. “Mastered? Oh, who am I kidding? I could barely use the spell. Mostly, I cast it to turn apples into applesauce.”
Flash stared at her and then looked back at the golem tearing its way closer. “Okay…what are the chances?”
“80-20, in favor of being horribly mangled. I’ll be there with you, so I might be able to keep the worst from us, but I don’t like our chances.”
Flash gulped. “Well, it might be better than sticking around here.”
“Okay, then give me a second,” she said before turning to him. “And Flash?”
He looked at her.
“If we don’t make it out of here, don’t hate me, please?”
Flash looked at her and gave a soft smile. “It’s kinda hard to hate you after all of this.”
She cast her spell, and they both slipped into unreality.
Sunset focused on keeping the bubble of reality around them stable. The moment that bubble collapsed, they were dead. This was the part she wasn’t good at.
The teleportation would be instant, but that wasn’t necessarily true in the world of unreality. Flash might not even notice the time, but Sunset’s focus on that thin barrier between staying in one piece and being torn into infinite pieces meant she would face what felt like minutes trying to hold them together.
Unreality pressed against them, trying to force the offending physics away. Still, Sunset threw her magic into the bubble, fortifying that line with everything she had, but if reality abhors a vacuum, unreality despises matter.
A flare of antimatter shot through the bubble, looping around both Flash and Sunset. It roared in her ears as it cut through the air. The antimatter began consuming their bubble of reality and whatever it could grab inside.
She didn’t dare look at Flash. She couldn't look to see if he was alright. If that flare of unreality had hurt him, she'd never forgive herself. She couldn't hurt him again. She didn't look.
And then she landed in snow colored by the summer twilight of the frozen north.
---♦---
Doctor Tinker Trot woke the following day with a sore jaw. He massaged it, worried. Something must have happened last night.
No. Nothing happened.
No, he must have slept on it in a weird position.
He yawned and rolled out of bed. He had a lot of work to do today. He had to make new breakthroughs in Mind creation and care for his guests.
And clean up the extra rocks you summoned.
And clean up all those rocks. The Doctor probably should have done that experiment outside the house, but things were always more apparent in hindsight.
He stepped into his combination workroom, dining room, and lounge, and over the mess of stones he had left behind from the previous day’s experiment. It was odd that the guests hadn’t said anything.
They did. At dinner.
At least they were polite about it when they mentioned them. They were very understanding. “Prototype.”
His first golem approached, subservient as always.
“Prepare breakfast for my guests and I.”
Your guests left. They had to go despite your hospitality.
“Belay that, Prototype. Breakfast just for myself. It’s a shame they didn’t stay. I would have loved some more company.”
They could distract you from your work. You need to make more golems.
He did need to get back to work, however. After all, genius needed to be productive; otherwise, they were nothing more than lofty ideas.
The Doctor sat at his desk and began working, enchanting a geode with a complex set of matrices that would create a facsimile of life.
Yes, he had a lot of work to do, and once he finished, no one could question his abilities after this.
Just keep working. It will all be yours.
He had just to keep working. And then all the glory would be his.
Doctor Trot worked, and as he did, the light of the Intellect Crystal shone on the back of his head, throwing deep shadows on the wall.
Yes, things were going perfectly well and precisely according to plan.
Sunset landed hard and rolled down the mountainside. She skipped across untouched snow and fell off a four-foot ledge into a drift three feet deep. As the world stopped spinning, the first thing she did was check herself. Two arms, two legs, four hooves, no hands or feet, a full tail, horn, and ears; she seemed in one piece. She wasn’t wearing her supplies anymore, though. That was worrying.
“Flash!” she called, pulling herself from the snow. “Flash!”
The terror pumping through her mind thrummed to life again as her worry for Flash burned like a solar flare in her heart. Did he make it through the teleport? Was he hurt? Did he get merged with his pack?
“Flash!”
“Over here!” came the weak reply.
Hearing his voice helped to smother Sunset’s fear. She looked but didn’t see anyone, and had to climb out of the snow, but she finally saw the waving, yellow figure of Flash in the distance.
The unicorn made her way back, trudging through the snow and feeling the cold bite through her fur. She should have put that coat on before teleporting, especially since now she didn’t know where her bag was.
“Are you okay?” she yelled as she got closer, trying to speak over the wind drowning her out.
“I’m in one piece, but I think our supplies are trashed,” he said, holding up a canteen sticking through the wall of their cooking pot.
Sunset nodded and shivered. “I think you’re right. We’ll have to head back to the Crystal Empire.”
“We need to salvage what we can,” Flash said. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to make it with a hatchet and one coat between us.”
Sunset nodded and shivered again. “Let’s see what we can find.”
“Go ahead and start looking,” Flash said. “I’m going to try and make us a shelter to use. We won’t last long without some heat, and you’ll be dripping wet after searching through the snow.”
He didn’t say she should have brought her coat, which would have been a well-earned “I told you so,” but Sunset was thankful for it. For now, she just needed to focus on getting what remained of their supplies. “I’ll be back.”
“Try finding our tarp first,” Flash said. “I can do more with that.”
Sunset nodded and began to cast a locating spell to find the tarp. A magical tug downhill pulled her in that direction, and she started moving down the mountain until she found the folded tarp and the tent peg magically bound in its corner. She could remove the peg, but it would mean she would tear a hole into the tarp if she did.
Sunset sighed. How badly had she messed this up? It was her fault that they stayed the night in the Doctor’s lab. If she had thought about this better, they might not have gotten captured by all the golems in the first place.
She returned to Flash, who used the pot to dig out the snow. “I found the tarp,” she said, coming up to the hole flash was digging. “It’s either going to be stuck folded up, or it’ll have holes in it.”
Flash looked up and grimaced as he saw the mess. “It’ll work, but it won’t be as effective. The next thing we need is that brazier you talked about.”
Sunset nodded and returned with it a few minutes later.
“Great,” Flash said, standing in a hole so deep it revealed the stone beneath the snow. “Go ahead and drop it in here. Try to find some of our firewood and the rest of our supplies,” he said before taking off his coat and passing it off. “Take this too. Hopefully, we won’t need to keep trading off, but you need it more right now, anyway.”
She pulled on the coat and began searching.
As Sunset searched, her mind wandered. She should have played this better. There was something she could have done, a spell she forgot about, or something. Should she have, though? She could have fallen back into her old self and had the Doctor wrapped around her hoof, but was that the best thing to do?
She found her own coat, with a piece of firewood melded into both sleeves and some food.
Was she any better than the Doctor if she fell back into her old self? Sure, a crystal in her head wouldn’t be manipulating her, but she did try to lead an army to conquer Equestria. She even counted on Celestia caring too much to send her guard after innocent teenagers so she could hold her own army hostage. If she started heading back down that path, down that slippery slope, she had no idea how far she’d go.
Sunset shook her head. She left that behind. That wasn’t her past anymore. She couldn’t face those shadows again.
She found a few logs, a handful of charcoal bricks, and her bedroll, torn perfectly in half as if cut by a scalpel with an infinitely thin blade.
Was there a right move at all? Could she do what needed to be done? Was falling back into her old ways the only way to move forward? If Sunset had to return to being that rotten version of herself, could she do that and come back?
She wanted to say she could come back like there was no problem, but the rest of her wasn’t so sure. She had a hard time building a habit of doing her laundry every week; how was she supposed to dip into her old life and come out unscathed?
She found Flash’s bag, also cut in half by the atomic edge, but she grabbed what she could and dragged it behind her as she turned around.
Sunset returned to the camp to see Flash laying large blocks of snow onto the edges of the tarp, which he had transformed into a tent, being propped up by snow walls.
“Did you find them?” he asked as he saw her.
“Some of it, I found maybe three pieces of coal, though, so I don’t know how we’ll make that last. I also found my own coat,” Sunset said before a spell split the tiny piece of firewood from her sleeves, leaving thin cross sections of wood surrounded by the plastic fabric.
“Well, the fire’s nothing to worry about. Come inside,” Flash said before waving her toward one of the shorter ends of the tent. He disappeared from view, and as Sunset came around, she stared into an archway carved from snow, leading into the room beneath the tarp.
“The holes in the tarp won’t help us keep the heat in, but they will let the smoke out, so that’s good,” Flash said as he set up the brazier. The room was out of the wind, which was nice, but she wasn’t sure snow walls would do much.
“Can you give me a spark?” Flash asked as he finished splitting one of the larger logs. The splits didn’t go all the way down the log; it stopped about three inches from the bottom, and Flash was piling and kindling onto the hole where the splits met.
“What, right in the middle of the log?”
“Exactly.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly before she converted some of her calories directly into heat for the spark. A flame caught and began to burn, and Flash nestled it into the middle of the log.
“I saw this on the internet years ago. I think it’s called a Swedish torch or something to that effect. It’ll burn for a long time and only needs the one log.”
“Okay,” Sunset said as the tiny flame filled the room with heat.
“I really wish I had something to cover the floor,” Flash said. “It would help with the heat.”
“What do you need?”
Flash looked at her for a moment. “Um, just something. A carpet, furs, or something.”
Sunset sighed, muttering, “I’ll get you something, but you better start cooking.”
Flash nodded, then pulled up the pot again and began putting some lentils into it, trying to avoid the canteen.
Sunset, meanwhile, took a breath and began casting Goldenrod’s Instant Garden. The Create Body spell began filling the ground with twisting vines, quickly filling the space. While concentrating on her spell, she split her focus to cast a second spell. The Transform spell took hold, and the bed of vines transformed into a thick shag carpet, exactly to Flash’s specifications.
“Huh,” Flash said.
Sunset sat and sighed. “Alright, now I’m starving.”
“Food is coming up as soon as possible!” Flash said, turning back to the fire and the lentils in the pot. “Any chance you could use magic to fix some of the stuff around us?”
“Only if we break them first,” Sunset said. “I can’t remove the canteen, for example. Once the two are entangled, they count as a single object as far as magic is concerned. I can’t teleport one out of the other, but I can break the canteen into pieces and remove those pieces, but that’s it.”
Flash looked up. “Can you fix the holes in the tarp?”
“I can magically sew them shut, but I don’t think that plastic stretches well.”
Flash nodded. “That’s fair. Alright, get some sleep. The lentils will be ready when you wake up. I’ll take the rest of the watch.”
Sunset nodded, then pulled on her coat and rolled out her half-of-a-bedroll to lay down onto whatever remained.
“Are we even cut out for this?”
The thought tasted bitter in her mouth, but it sat there, demanding an answer.
Maybe she wasn’t the kind of pony that could do this. Sure, she had a few “adventures” in the human world with her friends, but nothing like this. Did the skills not translate? Was her problem that she didn’t actually have the tools she needed for this, despite what she thought? Maybe she just wasn’t as competent as Twilight thought. Perhaps not even as capable as Sunset herself thought?
She rolled onto her side.
Maybe she just needed to head home. After all, she had bills to pay.
And let’s be honest, she could barely handle that.
---♦---
Flash looked around their small shelter, deep in thought. They had to head back to the Crystal Empire as quickly as possible, and their bags were no longer in a state fit for the trip. They’d have to devise a different method of carrying their supplies. Luckily, they were heading downhill, so they could use gravity to help them.
If they could construct a sled, they could probably make good time, but that didn’t help their current problem of being low on food and fuel for the whole trip. The mountain’s vegetation was sparse at this elevation, and what Flash did find proved to be twisted, thin stumps so battered by the cold that Flash wasn’t sure they’d provide any heat.
At lower elevations, there were some better trees, and if they could live long enough to get down to one of them, Flash might be able to do something, but that was days away from where they were now, and the trees were still rare at that.
The worst part would be traveling across the vast plain from the foothills to the Empire’s bubble of warmth. The complete lack of anything that could be used as a landmark, much less a resource, meant that the last stretch of their trip would lack any possible resupply. They would have to find enough fuel before then.
As for food, they might be able to eat some of the leaves off of the shrubs up here, and they might be able to find some berries or something if they were lucky. He hoped there were some berries because he wasn’t sure that the leaves on the various plants out there were even edible for his pony body, but hopefully, Sunset could help him with that.
There had to be something they could eat. Rationing whatever they had would not be wise, just because they would need the calories to stay warm, even without mentioning the heavy marching through the snow.
Could they glide down? If they could make a hang glider of some kind, Flash could use his wings to get them to a higher altitude, and then they could fly over the snow and the terrain to get there quickly. Of course, that would also put them into a lot of wind, which would sap away whatever heat they had. If there was some way to make a windshield of some kind, then it might work, but unless he knew for sure, it sounded like a great way of getting one of them frozen to death.
Solving this problem was fun to some parts of his mind. The part that loved the challenge of survival and loved using the knowledge he gathered. Yes, the rest of him screamed that this wasn’t a game. This was an actual life-or-death problem, and if he made the wrong call, they could both freeze up here and die.
Still, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited by the prospect.
Was he messed up for that? Did something in his brain not work right?
He pushed the thought aside.
The fire had burned enough of the log that the flame fell into the split, and Flash could finally move the pot over the flame. Before putting the pot on the fire, Flash took a second to unscrew the canteen lid that fused with it and let out whatever water had been caught in the top dribble. He used snow for the rest of the water and set the pot to boil.
They could supplement rations with other food. Since Flash was a pony now, hunting was probably out of the question, but there had to be something they could have.
“My kingdom for a granola bar,” he muttered.
As the snow began to melt, Flash stirred the lentils so they wouldn’t burn while waiting for the water.
There had to be something he could do.
Was there something he was missing, an obvious answer he wasn’t thinking about?
And then he stopped stirring.
And smiled.
---♦---
Sunset counted until the end of Flash’s shift. She barely slept, and she might have very well been awake the whole time. Over time, she removed her coat and draped it over herself like a blanket. The little shelter Flash carved out for them held the heat better than Sunset expected, and she found herself glad for how cold the walls were just to even herself out.
But morning came, and Flash’s shift ended, and she shifted from her bedroll.
“Morning,” Flash said. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough,” Sunset lied.
“Breakfast is ready,” Flash said, “and I think I have a solution to our problem.”
“Which problem?”
“How we will get back to the Crystal Empire without freezing or starving to death,” Flash said. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think our best bet is to use a sled. Specifically, one we can ride.” Sunset blinked. “What?”
“We need to move quickly, and we’ll have to do it to carry whatever supplies we have. A sled should do both of these,” Flash said as he handed Sunset a spoon. “The pot’s a little hot, be careful.”
“A sled.”
Flash nodded. “I thought of maybe trying to make a hang glider that would take us down, but that has the risk of freezing us in the air. A sled doesn’t have that problem. We could also use a lot of the paths we’ve already traveled using a sled just because we’ll be traveling downhill.”
“And what about the narrow passages and the cliffs?”
“If we make the sled light enough for me to carry, I can move it, then our supplies. I have to fly up and down them anyway to collect all our supplies and rope, so I might as well add the sled to the list.”
Sunset paused. “You’re…serious about this?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
That was a good question that Sunset didn’t have an answer for. Yes, a sled would let them carry whatever supplies they had, and riding it downhill would be easier than walking. It made even more sense, considering they no longer had their bags. Carrying everything on a sled would make things far more manageable. Despite this, the image of them sliding down the mountain had a feeling of whimsy that Sunset wanted to rebel against. It seemed wrong somehow despite being a perfectly reasonable suggestion.
“It’s not all downhill from here. What do we do when we need to cross flat land?”
“I can try pulling it,” Flash said. “I’ll need a rope, but I can try flying ahead of the sled and pulling it behind me.”
“You’re going to try to pull it?”
“By air. I won’t have to push through the snow, which means I can push later on my hooves.”
“That’s going to be much harder than you think.”
“Probably,” Flash admitted. “But we’ve got to get there one way or another, so I will probably be pushing or pulling anyway. Besides, that’s only half my plan.”
“Half of it?”
Flash nodded. “I also want to make a sail for the sled.”
“A sail?” Sunset asked as the idea slowly took hold. “It could work so long as the wind blows in the right direction, but we can’t guarantee that.”
Flash smiled. “Yeah, that is the main problem, and if we can’t get it to work, then we’re stuck pushing. We’ll probably do it in shifts, and I can take one shift pulling by the air, one pushing, and you can do one pushing between them.” Then Flash’s smile got wider. “Now, could you remind me of something?”
“What?”
“Unicorns have magic. Earth ponies can make things grow. What is it that pegasuses do?”
“Pegasi,” Sunset corrected before her brain registered Flash’s question. “And, um, Pegasi can control the weather.”
The crates proved more worrying than Night initially thought they would. The Scarlet Hoof had brought in twelve crates, or thirty-six thousand pounds of troll dust. Besides being incredibly unethical to harvest, troll dust also made a dangerous street drug.
The high of the dust wasn’t any worse than what you’d find with a slightly too large dose of cough syrup, but the power behind troll dust was the regenerative properties. Depending on the severity, inhaling a dose of the stuff could heal most cuts, breaks, and bruises on a pony within seconds to minutes. So long as somepony could ignore the pain of any incoming attacks, they were all but immortal for an hour.
All for the low, low price of nearly guaranteeing your chances of getting cancer.
Night didn’t have to live on the streets to know that handing desperate ponies a guarantee of living, no matter what they do, was a formula that promised trouble. He shuddered to think what Gleaming would have done if she promised to give everyone who worked for her a magic pill that meant you’d only have health problems many years from now.
It wasn’t as elegant as Gleaming’s plan nor as forceful as a complete takeover of the major players of organized crime. Still, Night couldn’t help but respect the Scarlet Hoof’s plan of turning waves of individual criminals into nearly unstoppable hydras. After some consideration, Night decided this would be the perfect opportunity to teach Ardent a new lesson that Twilight told Night he needed to remember himself on several occasions.
Captain Azure Heart glanced down at the building plans and would frown if not for the stoic glare he gave everyone and everything. “This would be devastating,” Azure said, “if they managed to succeed. We need to get this off the street as soon as possible.”
Night nodded. “That was my thought as well. In fact, I already set most of his stash on fire. The problem is this goes beyond our normal plan of breaking them down. They’ve gone straight past being an annoyance we can toy with into pointlessness. We need the guard to go in and smash this group to pieces.”
“Is there still enough evidence left for us to arrest them?” Azure asked.
“I burned their latest shipment. They had another one that they were saving. It’s only one crate, but it’ll be enough.”
Azure nodded and pulled out a jar of bottled dragonfire to stay on the table. “I’ll head to the local outpost. I’ll have two platoons ready in an hour. We’ll have the streets cordoned off and be ready to assault them ten minutes from that.”
Night nodded. “Inquisitor Ardent and I will lead whatever forces we brought here with you to cause a distraction right before then. I will hopefully keep their defenses elsewhere while you come through.” He wasn’t sure why he called Ardent by his title. Azure brought that out of him every time.
“Sounds excellent, Master Night. I’ll stay in touch.”
He nodded, and Azure stood to leave before pausing. “Shall I send up the other Inquisitors?”
“Please,” Night said with a shake of his head. “I’m going to have to work some miracles to make this assault work, and the more time I have, the better.”
Azure nodded again and left, heading toward the local guard headquarters and leaving Night and Ardent behind.
“So he acts like he’s had a stick surgically implanted in him around his peers too, glad to know,” Ardent muttered.
Night sighed. “Captain Ardent is a stallion who almost literally eats, sleeps, and breathes his job. His hobbies include his job, his pastimes are his job, and he has a wonderful special somepony named ‘his job.’ I think Princess Celestia hired him because she knew he couldn’t do anything else.”
Ardent shrugged and joined Night at the table. “So what’s our plan, sir?”
“Well, your little fight did a great job at the moment, but it might have been the wrong move tactically.”
“It was still pretty fun,” Ardent said.
“Glad to hear,” Night said. “Because they know to look out for infiltrators, they’ll be on alert for us now. So we need to figure out how to get you and the other four inquisitors-in-training in there and cause chaos so the guard can get in without punching through some defenses.”
“It shouldn’t be a problem for them, right, sir?” Ardent said. “The guard can probably break any siege they bring without much issue.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Night said. “I’m worried what happens if the Hoof decides that using whatever dust they have is better than getting arrested.”
Ardent blinked and went quiet.
Five training inquisitors stepped into the safehouse room a few seconds later.
Night took a deep breath and looked over at the new ponies. An earth pony, two pegasi, and a pair of unicorns. Without their armor, they no longer had the white or gray coats of the royal guard but instead had colors ranging from greens to brown to blues. They stared at him with wide eyes, unsure of what they were about to do.
They all wore what amounted to the Inquisitorial uniform: a cloak, a belt with a small knife, a badge, and a bag filled with essential tools, including picks, rope, and a towel.
The Spymaster sighed. He’d have to give a speech. “Fillies and Gentlecolts, this is not how I wanted your first raid. I wanted you to plan it, weaken them, and reap the reward with the satisfaction of knowing you were the one breaking whatever operation they were building.
“You don’t get that tonight. I’m sorry. Instead, tonight, I’ll be relying on you and the skills that you’ve just begun to develop. The risk of injury is very high, and things can go very wrong, but I need you here so things don’t get worse for those on the guard.”
One of the unicorns, a mare with a dark green coat, visibly swallowed, but everyone gave him their undivided attention.
“This,” Night said, pointing to the warehouse map. “Is where we’re going, and our main concern is stopping the ponies inside from reaching one of the crates they’re guarding. The crate is here,” he said, circling where he last saw the last box of troll dust, “last we saw, anyway. Inside are several hundred pounds of troll dust, dust that we don’t need any of the ponies inside the warehouse taking. If they snort a dose, all the ponies following us will have more difficulty making the arrest.
“Your mission is to get in there and secure the dust so the guard is safe. Lead Instructor Ardent and I will do whatever we can to pull ponies away from that location so you can work. Any questions?”
The fledgling Inquisitors said nothing.
“Then let’s get ready, and if you’re praying ponies, we’ll need the help.”
---♦---
Night watched as his Inquisitors moved around the warehouse perimeter. The watch set by the Scarlet Hoof had been doubled, and they moved in three distinct routes, each making rings around the warehouse in staggered patterns that cut the space between the patrolling criminals to short distances. The work was good, and for a while, Night worried that his ponies wouldn’t entirely be up to the task.
The unicorns answered by using illusions. Though they were both only scratching the surface with Image spells, they still worked wonders. Since discovery wasn’t a risk, they both had a license to make mistakes and be noticeable. They created Images of full ponies yelling for help or ducking around corners and making as much noise as possible. It worked like a magician’s trick, pulling attention away like flash powder and smoke.
The pegasi worked excellently as well. Using some careful feather treatments, they could fly silently through the air, so much so that they hovered over the ground, keeping their hooves from crunching into the stone beneath them.
The earth pony, a lithe, wispy thing, followed in the shadows of the unicorns like wind passing through branches.
As they closed in on the building, the inquisitors took positions against the walls, crates, and whatever other cover they could find. They were doing well, but Night decided to give them a slight correction here and there. They were using all the subtlety of a club right now, but if he could teach them how to be better here, they’d save themselves some trouble down the road.
The door gave way to Ardent’s gentle touch, and they slipped inside the warehouse without a sound. The unicorns, with Night leading, came in first, using spells to conceal the door. The pegasi came next, followed by Ardent and the Earth Pony. They were doing well.
A guard turned the corner and would have continued for a fraction of a second before his head snapped to the seven Inquisitors. “Intru—”
Ardent cut the space between them before the criminal could finish screaming the word and answered with a powerful blow to the temple. The pony dropped like a rock, but the call was going up, and the motion deeper inside the warehouse began to stir.
The inquisitors ran, their guard training kicked in, and they turned all of their focus on securing the objective. Night found himself left behind for a second as the others surged across the warehouse floor, covering the distance as fast as they could.
A pair of ponies tried to get in their way, and they were answered with pain as Ardent threw his entire body into one while a unicorn threw lightning at the other. As the second’s muscles spasmed and went taut, a pegasus joined Ardent in pummeling the first unconscious, leaving the others to reach the crates.
The stallion of the unicorn pair cast a spell, creating a shield around the crates, and spun on his hooves to keep them toward his back. The other inquisitors took up similar positions, keeping the container of Dust to their back and facing the criminals now charging their position.
Crossbow bolts began to fly, fired by ponies on the catwalks above, and the second unicorn, the mare, cast a spell that formed a wall of stone between them, growing out of the ground. Night threw himself against the wall, and his heart finally processed his discomfort, relief at the lack, and the abundance of cover.
More crossbow bolts clattered against the wall, and Night peeked out from behind the wall just in time to see a handful of ponies cranking back the heavy bows to reload. The pegasi struck then, as though they had been waiting for the moment, and streaked out from behind cover to harass the arbalists on their catwalks.
Night didn’t even need to say anything.
A charge from the left meant to break in on their flank on the far side of the wall from Night, and Ardent and the willowy earth pony stood in the gap. Ardent defended the wall like the bruiser he was born to be, smashing heads like nearly rotten pumpkins, while the thinner pony spun like a whirlwind, striking at a thousand places at once.
Night blinked at the spectacle. Perhaps he should get some lessons from her when he had the chance. The criminals gathered to try and attack the other side, and Night stood, readying himself for the fight to come. The unicorn mare stood beside him and cast again, throwing a bolt of lightning that jumped from one pony to another, sending the attackers into spasms.
More ponies were gathering around, throwing crossbows, bolts of fire, and anything else they could find down on the fortified position.
One of the pegasi landed behind the wall, grunting as his leg buckled, blood pouring from a deep wound where bolt fletchings were poking out of his shoulder. “I’m hit!” he called, and the unicorn stallion moved over to him, still focusing on the spell that held the crates shut. He pulled his knife with his hooves and cut the fletchings free before reaching into his bag for the towel and applying pressure to the wound.
“You know,” the pegasus said through gritted teeth, “I never thought I would miss that inferno of a suit of armor, sir.”
Night wasn’t sure the armor would have done much against a shot that went that deep, but he didn’t say anything either. He wasn’t sure what to say.
Another volley of bolts clattered against stone and pierced thin metal sheeting as the criminal arbalists fired at the stone barricade, the warehouse’s far wall, and anything else they could find that looked like it could threaten them. The second pegasi’s neck snapped backward as a bolt flew at her, and she fell to the ground in a tumble.
A pony among the criminals cheered, and blood began to pool around the young inquisitor.
Night was moving before he realized it, his horn glowing with the Control Image transposing spell he’s used so often. The crossbow fired into the Image, running ten feet behind him, giving him a second of a head start.
He stopped at the downed pegasus and dragged her onto his back with his teeth, his horn already occupied with a spell before someone on the mezzanine cried. “Illusion! He’s an illusion! He’s picking up the mare!”
A handful of bolts flew closer to his unseeable body, most missing by feet or inches, though he did feel one shave the fur on his belly. The rest of the bolts continued to pass through the transposed Image.
He ran back to the safety of the wall, and the mare on his back spoke up. “I’m okay. I’m okay!” the pegasus said. “It grazed my head. I’m okay.”
Night put her onto the ground, and the unicorn stallion moved to check her. She bled heavily from the head, but she seemed conscious.
“Charge again!” One of the criminals yelled. And the unicorn mare answered with an inferno that shot forward and threatened to burn anything that got too close. The line that was forming scattered as the fireball chased after them.
Night tried to catch his breath.
The willowy earth pony took a baseball bat to the gut and doubled over. Ardent answered by bending the pony over backward and throwing him to the ground before picking up the improvised club and smashing another pony’s jaw.
“We’re down three ponies,” the stallion that had become the medic warned. “We might need to use the dust ourselves if we’re getting out of here.”
“That’s a great way to spend your retirement,” The pegasus mare said, holding a bandage to her head.
“We just need to hold on a little longer,” Night told them.
“Let’s hope we can make it, sir!” the pegasus stallion said.
He really should have learned their names.
A bottle flew over the wall, flame licking at a rag stuffed into its mouth. “Firebomb!” The pegasus mare yelled.
The medic dropped the shield spell on the dust, reached out with a telekinetic grip, and grabbed the bottle before throwing it back over the wall.
“They really need to get here quickly if we’re going to stay alive,” the medic said before he reformed the shield.
Someone yelled. “The guard! The guard’s here!”
Night sighed with relief at the sound.
A handful of ponies looked around; others ran, moving for the doors, but it was too late. The flash of golden armor sparkled in the doorways, and criminals screamed in horror as the steel-shod hoof of the guard came down on them.
The Inquisitor line found themselves reinforced by the guard, two ponies taking each end of the wall, and a guard pegasus specifically decorated with a medic’s cross landed beside them and began treating the wounded.
They did it. His Inquisitors succeeded.
---♦---
As Night left the warehouse, followed by his team of Inquisitors limping behind, he found Azure watching the proceedings. “Spymaster Night, glad to see you made it out.”
“Are you…smiling, Azure?”
“A trick of the light, I assure you, Master Night,” he answered. “I have to congratulate you and your Inquisitors. You’ve managed to keep casualties down to a minimum. This will make a wonderful headline.”
“You’re worried about the Press?” Night asked.
“I’m worried about the Princess,” Azure said, “and if her Majesty’s Inquisition proves itself in its first action with the Guard, it will go a long way to silence her critics.”
Night nodded. “I suppose it would make for a good headline, then.”
“Which just leaves us to clean up. You should send your inquisitors home; you’ve succeeded at what you needed to do here.”
Night nodded. “I should, but I do have more work to do.”
“You are correct,” Azure said. “You do have more work to do. At the Castle.”
Night blinked. “At the castle?”
“The Princess has not been herself lately. You need to speak with her.”
Night blinked. “Um…”
Azure’s face returned to the usual stoic mask he always wore, and he turned to face Night so that his whole bulk filled Night’s vision. “As the Captain of the Guard, the Princess’s physical, political, or mental well-being is my primary concern. Everything else is minor by comparison. So, you need to speak with the Princess posthaste.”
“Well, I—”
“In case I was unclear, Master Night, I am giving you a choice in the matter. Your options are to go on your own or be brought before the Princess bound and gagged.” Azure backed away a bit. “I won’t need to do that, will I, Master Night?”
“Um, no. No, Azure, you won’t.”
“I am glad to hear it. It would not be proper for the Spymaster to be forcefully returned to the Castle after such an important victory.”
“You know, I have to agree with you there. It wouldn’t be proper at all.”
The wind felt like it would freeze her eyeballs solid.
The sled worked better than Sunset thought it would. She used magic to transform raw materials into something that resembled a sleigh, and then Flash took the lead, pulling them from the air as they slowly made their way down the mountain.
As Flash predicted, they found some twisted tree trucks for campfires, and they did find some Iana berries that Sunset magically altered so that they would be big enough to feed them all the way down.
Their good luck continued as they moved. They saw only one golem during the trip, walking in the shadow of a deep valley, which gave Sunset all the natural advantage she needed to start a small avalanche that buried it in so much snow that it would take days to climb out of.
They only had another three days of travel across the flat plain to the Empire’s magical border.
Flash pulled the sled forward like he had on the mountain, and it slid across the snow easier than Sunset thought it would. Slipping and skipping like a speedboat, they kept good speed, where the deep snow would typically have to be shoved aside and slow them down.
In retrospect, they should have taken a sled with them the first time.
Flash kept pulling, flying ahead of the sled, and using his wings to draw the sled ever onward. As he pulled, Sunset couldn’t help but marvel at how well he’d taken to his pegasus body. Before coming here, he’d never used those wing muscles, yet he pulled them like a marathon flyer, enduring for hours.
It’s good to see that at least one of us can live in both worlds.
She sighed.
Her mind had not let up since they began the descent. A near-constant barrage of snide comments from her inner critic fell on her as they moved.
We’ve done this for years. We’ve lived in the human world and done alright there, but whenever we’re here, we only cause problems. We rise against Celestia, we manipulate those around us, and even when we’re doing something right, we mess it up. We should have been born in the human world. It would have made things so much better.
Sunset also wished she hadn’t worked so hard to nurture a rapier wit. It made her own brain very mean to her.
You reap what you sow. You should know that.
Flash continued pulling them forward, his wings beating hard and doing so much better than Sunset ever had. Or would be doing, for that matter. If she were alone on this journey if Flash hadn’t come with her, she’d be dead, and he would probably still be fine. Flash would have done much better than she had and would likely continue to do better without her.
Sunset sighed as he switched from holding onto the sled with her left hoof to her right. Her mind would continue to drone on about how terrible she was. For now, she just needed to make it across the plain.
---♦---
The warmth of the magical field felt like a relaxing balm on her weary shoulders. After days of existing in constant cold, the Spring temperatures of the Crystal Empire gave her relief she didn’t know she wanted.
“We made it,” Flash said beside her. “What now?”
“Now, I think we earned a rest. My shoulders are sore from hanging onto the sled for so long, and I don’t think you’re feeling much better.”
Flash looked down on his wings, which hung limply from his sides, before carefully folding them back up. “I guess you’re right about that,” he said with a dry laugh.
Sunset noticed that a pony was watching them from a distance, looking confused at them and the sled behind them. “Come on, let’s grab what we can and head to the tower. Maybe Princess Cadence will get us a place to stay.”
Flash nodded and began pulling whatever he could find. Sunset grabbed what she could off the sled and sighed before moving toward the keep. The towering crystalline palace loomed over her as she got closer, and when she got to the soldiers guarding the stairway up, she found herself wishing she hadn’t come.
“Flash? Is that you?” one of them asked. “I thought I saw you come in earlier.”
“It’s not who you think it is,” Sunset said. “We need to see Princess Cadence. We’re working on behalf of Princess Twilight. Let her know we’d like to speak with her.”
One of the guards moved to obey while the other continued to stare. “What, so this isn’t Flash?”
“No, it’s complicated,” Flash said.
“What, are you like a changeling?”
“What’s a changeling?”
“What’s a changeling?” the guard repeated, shocked at what he just heard. “How do you not know what a changeling is? Have you been living under a rock?”
Flash looked over to Sunset, and she only shrugged. She didn’t have the energy to bother with this right now. “Um, let’s go with. I’ve been out of the country for a while now.”
“They’re the creatures that ruined the Royal Wedding. The shapeshifters?”
“Never heard of them,” Flash said.
The guard shook his head. “That’s incredible. I’m almost impressed you haven’t heard.”
Flash shrugged. “I’ve been isolated. Haven’t gotten news in a while.”
“The wedding was years ago,” the guard said, still chasing the point that Sunset could not care about.
The second guard returned at that moment, saving her from the conversation. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the Princess immediately.”
Sunset obeyed without saying a word and walked up the stairs with Flash behind her. He admired the strange architecture and stared at the decorations with fascination behind her, and Sunset just couldn’t focus on any of it.
The guard led them back to the tea room the Princess had met Sunset in before and had them sit at a table that had been prepared with some refreshments.
Princess Cadence arrived with her own Flash, and the two shared a look. The Princess looked concerned about them before her face relaxed, and she said something that Sunset suddenly realized was directed at her.
“—don’t they?”
“Oh, um, yes,” Sunset said, dragging herself out of her daze to be present for the meeting.
“Well,” the Princess said before turning away from the two Flashes, “you have returned. Were you successful in your search?”
Sunset nodded. “Yes, we found the Crystal. It’s in the possession of a stallion who grafted it to the back of his head.”
“What?” Cadence asked.
“It’s not good,” she said. “I think it’s exercising some control over this Doctor Trot that he’s totally unaware of. What’s worse is that he’s making golems acting as his soldiers. He could become very dangerous, very quickly.”
Cadence nodded once and turned to her Flash. “Captain Sentry.”
The armored Flash, who had been chatting with his doppelganger a second ago, snapped to attention and made a salute so crisp it made the cold beyond the warmth-enchantment jealous. “Ma’am?”
“Bring me a scroll, ink, and the emergency bottled dragonfire. As quickly as you can.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Captain Flash answered before shooting out of the room.
“We’ll send a letter to Twilight immediately. Once that’s done, we’ll get you two settled, and you can get some rest.”
Cadence nodded before turning to a pony in the corner of the room. “Prepare two guest chambers in the Tourmaline wing. The royal apartments will be fine.”
“Yes, Princess.”
Five minutes later, they had a letter. Cadence wrote her part, and Sunset gave her report before they sealed the scroll and sent it away. Soon after, Cadence had them led to a pair of rooms, which Sunset only barely looked at before falling face-first into a goose-down mattress.
---♦---
Night entered the throne room as Princess Twilight was taking the last petitions for court today.
“I do not think this request is unreasonable, Your Highness.”
“Just like you thought me speeding up and delaying the sun wasn’t unreasonable,” Twilight said. Night saw her eyes land on him momentarily before they turned back to the pony before the throne. “They are called curtains. Buy some to go with the hat and sunglasses. Make sure you hang them because they will not be effective otherwise.”
“Princess, I—”
“Your case is dismissed,” she answered.
The pony on the floor looked incredibly disheartened before following the guards escorting him out.
“That shall be all today. I have other business to attend to.”
The throne room doors swung shut without further comment, and Night found himself almost alone in the room with the Princess.
Twilight spoke to the guards around them as though she heard the thought. “Leave us, please.”
The guards left, and Night was alone in the room with Twilight.
“Night,” Twilight said. “Have you come to make a report?”
“I…have,” Night said before he stepped forward. He stood in front of the throne, ten feet away as dictated by protocol, and spoke. “My training efforts with Inquisitor Ardent Rush have proved successful. We have disrupted the efforts of the Scarlet Hoof and dealt a serious blow to their operations. Captain Azure should be returning soon, and we should have everything…”
He trailed off.
He had looked up for a brief second and looked the Princess in the face. The frown on her face hit him like a runaway train, and his mouth stopped working as her eyes stared down at him.
“Everything we need soon,” he finished and stared at his hooves.
“That’s not true,” Twilight replied. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“Where’s the stallion that would casually steal from the castle hallways to prove a point to me? Where’s the stallion infiltrating my wait staff at the Gala, or who led my guard on chases through the castle? Where has that stallion gone?”
“That…that behavior doesn’t seem…proper for the Spymaster of Equestria.”
“You were making my guards better. That’s exactly why we need that, Night. That’s why I made you Spymaster.”
Night didn’t say anything.
“Night, what’s wrong?”
“That behavior isn’t welcome as Spymaster,” he said.
I’m not welcome here.
“That’s not true, Night,” Twilight said. “We’ve needed this for years now. That’s why Celestia hired you. That doesn’t change with a title.”
I’ve never been welcome here.
“It’s unbecoming.”
“I don’t care,” Twilight said. “I want you here. I want you to be that cocky, charming stallion you’ve been. I want you to be that pony I met when he broke into my bedroom.”
I don’t belong in your world.
“It’s not appropriate, Princess.”
“Appropriate?” Twilight asked. “Appropriate? Is that what you’re worried about? Night, I’m not Celestia. I don’t need to play by her rules. We don’t need to worry about precedent or appropriate, Night. The point is that I lo—”
A scroll appeared in front of her with a soft ring before unfurling in front of her.
Night watched it fall, trying to ignore the anger and tears in Twilight’s eyes.
The Princess picked up the parchment and skimmed it before she sighed. “They’ve found the Crystal. It’s on Everhoof in a cave. It’s already been found, and we need to take it before the pony that has it causes any more damage.”
“I’ll get right on it, Your Highness,” Night said before he bowed and left the room.
The door closed behind him with a sob.
---♦---
Sunset woke up in the middle of the night for the third time. She sighed and rolled out of bed to walk around the hallways again.
“Ma’am?” the guard at her door asked as she entered the hallway.
“It’s nothing. I just need to take a walk.”
Seemingly satisfied, the guard nodded and let Sunset go without further questions. The displaced unicorn took the first left she found and began wandering the crystalline hallways of the Imperial Tower. Sconces shaped like marquise-cut stones burned with soft, magical light while towering pillars of uncut tourmaline reached into the shadows of the roof. These hallways hadn’t seemed to change since Sunset was last here, stealing Twilight’s crown—an Element of Harmony—in the dead of night to fuel her revenge scheme against Celestia.
Taking another corner, Sunset found herself in a new hallway with quartz pillars and heart-shaped sconces, still glowing with that faint brilliance of magic. It was better here; her memory wasn’t as sharp in these hallways compared to the Tourmaline wing, but she could still feel her old self running down the halls, grinning with wild glee and malice as she made for the mirror that would prove to be the undoing of the entire country.
She gave a frustrated groan. Why was this a problem now? Why did coming to Equestria wake this old demon sleeping in her? One Sunset thought she beat, nonetheless. She’d declared it, believing it with every fiber of her being, that her past wouldn’t keep her from improving, but now that seemed so childish.
Anyone could promise to do better when they no longer have the tools to be evil. A miner could be trusted not to mine if you take all their shovels and picks. Now that she was back in Equestria, she had magic again, and her old self came knocking. She lied and manipulated her way into the Doctor’s good graces when she should have just turned around and left.
What’s worse, she was just better at being bad. She played the Doctor exactly how she needed to, but at every step up until then, she had been stumbling over herself just to get the job done. Sunset had failed, and that was all there really was to it.
The windchill slapped her in the face. Somehow, she’d wandered onto a balcony and stared at the handful of candle-lit buildings below her. Magic-powered streetlights threw deep, inky shadows across the buildings. She shivered but just set her jaw down on the balcony rail and sighed.
She should probably head home. There wasn’t much reason to stay.
“Sunset?”
She checked behind her and saw Flash, mid-yawn, approaching. “What’re you doing out here?”
“Thinking,” she said almost automatically. “What are you doing here?”
“Your guard was worried about where you went and thought I was Other Flash, so he sent me. I wasn’t cognizant enough to correct him.”
“Ah,” she said.
“You should probably go back to bed,” Flash said. “If Twilight’s sending the army, then we need to be ready to head back up the mountain.”
Sunset glanced back at the shadows that clung to the alleyways below. “I…I think I’m just going to head home, Flash.”
There was silence for a long second.
“What?”
“I think I’m done with this little adventure. I’m going to head home.”
Flash stared at her.
“I don’t belong here, Flash. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”
The pegasus didn’t answer.
“I did what Twilight asked of me. It’s not like I’m giving up on her.”
She felt like she was defending herself now.
“I’ve given her everything she needs, but I don’t know if—”
“I get it,” Flash said.
The anger in his voice told her he didn’t.
“Flash, I’m—”
“No, I get it. You’ve done the bare minimum; now it’s time to abandon your friends. Like you used to do.”
“I’m not abandoning anyone, Flash,” Sunset began. “I just don’t think—”
“Sunset, this is a country at stake. You spent half an hour explaining to me how dangerous this stupid Crystal is, and then we found it being used to make an army of golems, and you’re going to say, ‘Yeah, okay, that’s enough?’ Our worst-case scenario shows up, and you’re just okay with it?”
“Flash, I’m not a guard. This situation is beyond me now.”
“Oh, don’t give me that,” he said. “You’re one of the most powerful mages in Equestria, Twilight said so herself. You’re running for no reason.”
“It’s not for no reason!”
“So you are running?” Flash asked. “Dammit, Sunset! This isn’t a football game, meeting my family, or any other hundred things you ditched me for. This is for the fate of a country! Innocents could die because of this.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” she yelled. “Do you think I don’t know how many lives I could ruin around here? Flash, my first day back, I used magic to brainwash ponies into doing what I wanted. I gaslit them with magic so easily that it wasn’t even a speed bump. What if I get the stupid Crystal, Flash? Have you thought of that? Would you trust me with one of the most powerful artifacts known to Ponykind?”
Flash didn’t answer. He just glared at her.
“It’s safer for everyone if I just go home,” Sunset said her voice just a whisper.
“Yeah,” Flash said. “Maybe it is.”
---♦---
Flash felt a burning hot rod of iron in his gut.
There was the old Sunset again, thinking only about herself. Could she go long enough to think about someone else for a change? Only long enough so that she could hurt even more people, of course!
Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised. Sunset’d always bail on him whenever he needed her. He was always just a means to an end. Sure enough, that’s what everyone else has always been to her.
Princess Twilight, who stopped her from turning into a demon, one of her supposed ‘close friends,’ is only important enough that she fixes Sunset’s beat-up car. Because caring about her problems is too much of a commitment, obviously. Never mind that it could send thousands of ponies to their deaths. No, no, the money’s obviously more important to her.
The worst thing is that she’s always so sweet about using you. She gave you whatever she wanted but took twice as much. She’d use your hormones against you and twist you around her finger, make you some dinner, and then make you backstab your friends.
And the worst, the actual worst part of this whole thing, was that he almost—
Night arrived at the Crystal Tower as the sun was beginning to rise. The Crystal Guard met him at the train station and escorted him directly to the Tower. Once there, Princess Cadence offered him something to eat, and Night found himself facing Flash Sentry again.
Both of them.
“Spymaster Night,” the one in armor greeted, “We have supplies ready for you and a platoon of Guards ready to follow after you.”
“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” Night said, eying the Flash eating pancakes at the table. “Princess Twilight sent a platoon with me herself.”
“Understood. I’ll prepare more supplies, and we’ll send our platoon to reinforce you.”
“That will be acceptable,” Night said. “Will you be joining us?”
“No,” the Armored Flash said, “I am currently the senior officer and the Captain in charge of acclimating the Crystal Guard to modern procedure.”
“Well, thank Celestia for small blessings,” Night thought. “Unfortunate,” he said with his best political lie, “we’ll have to make do, though.”
“You’re the one heading up there?” The Breakfast Flash asked.
“Yes. Is there a reason you’re asking?”
“I’m going to help lead you up there.”
Night frowned. “That won’t be necessary. We have the location. You sent it to us in the letter.”
“I’m aware,” Breakfast Flash said, “but I’m going to see this through because Sunset…” he paused, and Night felt there was a huge story behind it. “Sunset’s got stuff to take care of back in our dimension, so she won’t accompany us.”
“I didn’t need her either, but I’m so glad to know I’m taking the worst half of the civilians.” Night sighed before he turned to face Breakfast Flash. “Alright. I expect you to keep up, though.”
“Understood.”
“We’ll be ready to head out in an hour and a half,” Night said to both Flashes. “I expect you and the Crystal Platoon to be ready by then.”
“Yes, sir,” they both said in unison.
Hearing the same voice from two different spots sounded weird, but Night moved on, his mood sour. Dealing with Flash for any time longer than necessary really didn’t sit well with him. Night still remembered how the pegasus managed to get under his skin within the first few minutes of meeting him, and the Spymaster was sure that he’d continue on this track record.
Then again, dealing with somepony as annoying as Flash would keep his mind off Twilight. The entire ride up North left Night’s mind swinging between the tears in Twilight’s eyes and the disappointment on Spike’s face.
Dealing with whatever annoyance Flash brought with him might just make the trip halfway bearable.
Because if Night couldn’t get his mind off Twilight, he might not survive the trip.
---♦---
Sunset couldn’t put off eating any longer. She put off eating her breakfast for as long as she could to avoid facing Flash, but she hadn’t been able to sleep well, and her stomach had been complaining for two and a half hours now. Climbing out of her bed, she slowly made her way down to the hall where they had dinner and found a plate waiting for her, along with some serving staff who snapped to attention at her arrival.
“You, uh, didn’t have to wait on me,” Sunset began as she watched the servers prepare her spot.
“Nonsense, Lady Shimmer,” the group’s apparent leader, a unicorn dressed like a butler, said. “It is the Host’s responsibility to care for their guests. We care most about your well-being and will do what we can to help. Even if it means waiting.”
Sunset gave a small smile and sat. “If you insist.”
They provided her with a bowl of oatmeal sweetened with honey and served with sliced peaches.
“We have coffee,” the unicorn butler said, “though I must warn you that our chef is still trying to find the best manner of preparing it. We did not have it before we were released.”
“Tea’s fine,” Sunset said.
“Of course.”
As the unicorn stepped away to prepare her tea, the door opened, and Flash entered the room.
The frown on his face told Sunset that he was her Flash, and she dipped her eyes to stare into her breakfast instead of staring back at him.
Once he left her last night, storming off to sulk after she told him that she was going home, she found herself staring into a hurricane of emotions. Anger swelled in her at how casually he disregarded her feelings, followed quickly by shame when she remembered how often she did that to him. After the shame came regret, anger, and a vindictive sense of justification. She was right about needing to leave; her relationship with Flash had never been great since they broke up, but it also hadn’t been this bad. Being in Equestria wasn’t just returning her old self to the surface, it was also hurting those around her again.
She just had to leave. That was all there was for it.
Sunset heard Flash clip-clop across the room, but neither of them spoke. She quietly spooned some oatmeal into her mouth and focused on her food.
Flash opened the door with a creak and closed it behind him without slowing down.
Sunset dropped her head onto the table next to her bowl with a groan.
“Is something wrong, my Lady?” the butler asked, returning with tea.
“Not that you could fix. Thank you, though.”
“Are you certain?”
Sunset nodded. “The best thing I can do right now is leave. I’ve already packed my bags. I just need to head for the train station.”
“You’re not a burden if you’re concerned about that, my Lady,” the butler said. “You need not leave yet.”
She gave him a soft smile and shook her head. “No, no. I really do. It’s not your fault. Your hospitality isn’t lacking. I just…I just need to go home.”
“If you’re certain,” the butler said, a questioning tone still in his voice.
“I am, thank you.”
The butler stepped back and left Sunset to her breakfast bowl.
She just needed to get home.
---♦---
Flash shouldered his bag and stared up at the mountain in the far distance. This time, he’d be climbing Everhoof with forty-eight other ponies, and he couldn’t help but worry about getting supplies for everyone if something went wrong. They all carried supplies so they wouldn’t be scavenging for supplies out the gate, but that didn’t let him feel any better about it.
The Crystal guard did make him feel better, though. Their blue-silver armor was hidden beneath thick cloaks of white fur, and the spears were wrapped with white cloth. They carried skis and had a sled laden with supplies.
The other Flash also gave the Canterlot guard a sled, some of the same white cloaks, and skis, but the way a few of the golden-armored ponies looked at them did not fill him with confidence.
“Alright, ponies,” Night called from the edge of the warming field. “We’ve put off leaving as long as we could. We need to move now.”
The guards answered by standing up and grabbing their supplies. Flash stood and saw Night giving him a look as he did.
“Let’s go, forced march, ponies.”
The two platoons moved, and as they did, Flash took one more look at the Crystal Empire and the trail of smoke that marked the train heading back to Canterlot.
“Flash, if you don’t move, we’re leaving you behind,” Night called.
“Yes, sir,” he replied, leaving the train passengers behind him. He had more important things to think about.
---♦---
The ride to Canterlot felt far longer than it should have. Sunset arrived by nightfall, but the trip felt like it took weeks. She disembarked at the public station and watched as the magical lamp lights began to burn, bringing warmth to the darkness surrounding the capital city. She knew these streets like the back of her hoof, but that familiarity only made her feel sicker.
She climbed up the mountainside to the castle and spoke to the guard posted at the gate. A few short minutes later, Twilight called her in, and she stood in front of the mirror, ready to return home.
“Thank you for finding it, Sunset. It means a lot.”
“I’m just glad I could help,” she said. Hopefully, it’ll balance things out on the moral scale.
“I’m glad to know I could count on you,” Twilight continued. “Once I have this crystal secured, the country will be far safer.”
Sunset didn’t reply and just nodded as she stared at the portal. Her eyes wouldn’t leave the mirror surface that promised to take her home.
“Sunset,” Twilight called, and she turned to see the Princess giving her a sad smile. “Sunset, I’m happy you came. If you ever need to come back, you’re always welcome.”
Sunset could only manage a half smile in return. “Thanks, Princess, but I think it’s best if I just go home.”
“Okay,” Twilight replied before she handed the unicorn a small chest of jewelry. “Best of luck out there, Sunset.”
“Same to you, Twilight.”
As she carried the strongbox through the mirror, Sunset let the magic pass over her. She stood before the Canterlot High statue, facing the school in the moonlight, and sighed. Now, she just had to walk home.
---♦---
Night frowned.
Their trip up Everhoof was arduous, but it went well. They reached the foot of the mountain yesterday, and the ascent began in earnest. Each platoon had a squad of pegasi, and the sixteen of them used their ability to fly to help the others climb by setting up pitons, ropes, pulleys, and harnesses. With the two squads working together, Flash admitted they were making better time than the first trip.
Speaking of Flash, the pegasus was doing better than he thought.
Along with helping the pegasi squads with the climbing, he not only kept up with the group but acted as a guide of some kind, warning them about the hazards they were coming against and helping navigate the mountain’s most challenging climbs.
Flash was proving to be not only helpful but downright useful as well, and Night couldn’t help but sigh because of it.
He checked the position of the sun. On the trip across the plain, the sergeant of the Crystal Guard platoon argued that they would need an hour to set up decent shelters, and whatever light and heat they could get worked best. They were getting close to time. “Alright, ponies, let’s start looking for a place to set down.”
The Crystal Guard scout squad began to move out, searching for a suitable place to set up camp and nearly disappearing in the snowscape. The Crystal Guard’s incredible ability to disappear in the snow left Night a little jealous if he were honest. He’d have to see if he could recruit one or two for his Inquisitors.
He could do that if he ever managed to face Twilight again.
He sighed and shook his head. This was supposed to get his mind off what he was dealing with at home, not force him to think of it more. He needed to turn in the Crystal, ask Twilight about new Inquisitors, and then find a way of avoiding this whole conversion without digging himself deeper into trouble.
“Over here!” one of the ponies called.
Night wandered over, and the others gathered around the new campsite. The scout squad had already begun clearing away snow for the shelters. The Crystal guard worked quickly, setting up the tents with expert efficiency. They worked well in the snow, and Night couldn’t help but respect them for it, even though it left him with nothing to do, feeling like he was just taking up space.
“Need me to do anything?”
Night spun and saw Flash standing beside him, shaking snow off his hooves. The Spymaster looked him up and down momentarily before shaking his head. “Just make sure you’re not in the way of the experts.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” He asked back.
Smug little…
He debated for a second about answering the pegasus, but he needed to take his mind off everything, so he might as well. “You’re not wrong.”
There was quiet for a bit before Flash spoke up again. “Ever stared at someone doing the job you’re supposed to be doing so well that it makes you feel useless?”
Night frowned.
Spike, slipping from whatever job he had to another. Captain Azure, integrating the Inquisitors seamlessly into a raid on a criminal fortress. Twilight becoming Princess.
“I have.”
“It’s the worst, isn’t it?”
Night looked away from the campsite and stared at the sky instead, which turned such a bright pink that he thought he might go blind. “No, there are worse things.”
“Oh, what do you think is worse?”
“Thinking you’ve found somewhere you belong, only to find out it was a terrible idea that you came, and having to return to where it all started. That’s far worse.”
Flash didn’t respond.
“I guess both of those are pretty bad,” he said.
The Crystal guard had the tents up and used extra cloth to fuel a fire within minutes. The Equestrian guard nodded their thanks as they fed the fire with a single lump of enchanted coal they brought from Canterlot.
“Wish we had those going up,” Flash muttered as he looked at the coal.
“Twilight said it might interfere with the searching,” Night said, “but it’s not—”
His words were cut short as something slammed into his chest and threw him into a snow bank. He sputtered snow out of his mouth and sat up to stare at Flash, who pinned him down. “There on the ridge!”
Night tried to push Flash off him before a boulder soared over them. Night watched as the rock clipped one of the Crystal Guard, sending him spinning and roaring in agony.
“They see with magic. We can’t hide!” Flash said.
Night shoved Flash away and growled. “Well, let’s see about that.”
As the Spymaster stood, he saw a single stone golem bearing down on them from a small cliff about fourteen cartlengths away, throwing boulders at the guards. Using all the magical power he could summon, Night began to use his Transposement spell to copy the guards around him. The Images of the guards slid forward, masking their actual positions, and it looked like that worked.
As the golem threw the next volley of boulders, they hit the displaced Images, missing the ponies completely.
Even as he held them, though, he was beginning to lose his hold on the spell. He didn’t have the magical ability to hold onto the Image of that many ponies. A handful of guards had their Images snap back to themselves, and Night worried that the golems could pin them down.
“Everyone visible hide!” Flash said.
At least he was quick on the pickup.
“Everyone else, move forward!” Flash said. “Unicorns, try to pull them apart! Pegasi, try to distract them in the air! Earth ponies, get close and aim for the joints!”
Good orders, too.
“You heard him, go!”
The guards moved, obeying orders. They charged the single golem, while those that were revealed began throwing spears, stones, or spells to offer support. As the fighters got into melee range, the golem began flailing, swinging its arms in wide arcs that caught the images in what would be devastating attacks.
Despite the magical protection, a guard must have gotten too close, and he and his Image flew before landing in the snow.
One of the guards managed to stick a spear in the golem’s knee joint, and half of the remaining attackers immediately threw themselves onto the spear haft. It should have snapped if not for the preservation enchantment placed on guard equipment. Using their combined weight, they pulled until something snapped, and the golem fell backward, missing a chunk of its leg.
Night’s body finally moved.
Everything was happening too fast.
The Spymaster charged the golem, but he had no idea what he could do. He didn’t have the magical strength to pull the thing apart and couldn’t see the gems he needed to pry loose to disable the beast.
But, in his time in Twilight’s court, he had learned a new word of power.
He cast Transform Matter, and the stone golem transformed into air, revealing an orb of crystal beneath. “It’s a geode?” he asked, horrified.
“There are thousands of crystals running that thing,” Flash said before throwing a rock at the orb of amethysts. “We need to break it to pieces.”
Night was panting, too much energy already spent between his spells and the march. He couldn’t use magic to affect the crystals now. He’d need to break them the old-fashioned way. “Hammers!” Night called.
A handful of Canterlot guards armed with war hammers, tent mallets, and rocks charged, rushing the golem. It answered with sweeping blows that knocked ponies aside.
Night looked around for something that could help, anyway that he could stop this thing, but nothing came to mind. As a guard went flying, a war hammer landed at his hooves. He picked it up without even thinking about it.
For a moment that dragged on for an eternity, in stark contrast to the seconds that flew past him in the fight, Night found himself with a hammer in his hoof, ponies thrown around like rag dolls, and Flash flying toward him. In this strange instance of reality, where time stopped to a crawl, Night could read precisely what Flash was thinking. The idea was crazy, but Night couldn’t help but respect it, even if Flash was an annoying little civilian batting for someone way out of his league.
Night jumped into Flash’s arms, and they rocketed toward the golem as time sped to its insane pace. The space closed quickly, and Night lifted the hammer with whatever strength he had left.
Flash began to climb, gaining some air, and Night jumped, swinging down with all his might.
The orb of crystals shattered, and whatever was left of the golem fell.
Night stood up from the snow bank, breathing heavily.
“Is that it?” Someone called out. “Is it done?”
“It’s dead,” Flash confirmed.
“So is Sapphire,” one of the Crystal Guards reported. “And Bezoar is looking over Beryl, but it’s not looking good.”
A Canterlot guard approached as well. “Hoplite and Helm are both dead as well. Greave has two broken legs.”
“Okay, five casualties and three fatalities. We did manage to kill it, though.”
“Yeah,” Flash said, “but there are more of them, and they learn. It’s only going to be harder to kill them next time.”
Sunset sat in the breakroom and sighed as she opened a bag of chips. Work at Spitshine Shoes was precisely as she remembered it, with customers leaving boxes around, shoes being left out of their boxes and discarded, and people leaving trash on the shelves as though they’d never heard of the concept of a trashcan. The only saving grace was that business seemed slow on her first day back to work.
On the morning after returning to the human world, Sunset sold some of the jewelry to a pawn shop and used the money to fix her car. On her second, she lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the point was. On the third day, she called Mr. Shine and returned to work.
She chewed on a few chips before her eyes tried to bore into the far wall. She wasn’t freezing anymore, and magic wouldn’t whisper its dangerous temptations anymore. Sunset was back where she belonged, where she couldn’t hurt anyone.
“Sunset.”
Well, that wasn’t true. Sunset had hurt plenty of people here before, even without magic.
“Sunset.”
Maybe she didn’t belong anywhere at all. Maybe Sunset should find a forest to live in, some tiny little hermit shack she could build for herself. It’s a shame homesteading laws stopped being a thing for a few hundred years here.
“Sunset!”
Shaking awake, Sunset turned to see Mr. Shine stare down at her with a soft look. “Hi there.”
“Um, hi, Mr. Shine. Sorry.”
“It’s alright. I just wanted to come by and check up on you. You look a little down, and I wonder if grandmother’s passing is the only thing bothering you.”
Sunset gave a soft smile of her own. “Oh, no, no, I’m fine. Just have a lot on my mind.”
Mr. Shine gave her a long look. “Sunset. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But there’s definitely something bothering you, and I want to make sure you’re alright.”
Sunset blinked before she turned back to the wall and frowned. “I… It’s…”
There was a long second of quiet before Sunset spoke up. “I…I just don’t…”
She didn’t have the right words for it, but Mr. Shine was caring, and that meant something. He always cared; he’d always marked down the birthdays of his employees and bought cake without a word being spoken by anyone. He’d gladly listen to her with no judgment.
“I…I had a bit of a fight,” Sunset said. “It wasn’t bad, but I think it’s best if I don’t go back home. I should just stay here.”
“Oh, Sunset.”
“It’s… it’s fine—”
“It’s not,” Mr. Shine interrupted, “and don’t lie to yourself about it, either. Losing your home is never something that’s ‘fine.’”
“I don’t know if it’s healthy for me to be there,” Sunset said. “It’s normal for people to leave places that aren’t healthy for them.”
Mr. Shine nodded. “I know, but you called it ‘Home.’”
Sunset paused and looked up at Mr. Shine, realizing her heart had broken apart.
“You lost something, Sunset, and that’s terrible, and I’m so sorry.”
“It’s…” she began before her voice quavered. “That’s not…I don’t…” Tears began to fall from her eyes as everything crashed into her. Terrible realization slammed into her. She wanted to be in Equestria. Not just to be there but to be there while being the new her. Sunset had her second chance, and she wanted to return Home and prove she’d become better. She wanted it for so long. And now, after all this time, she killed the hope of returning with her own hands.
“I don’t know…what to do.”
Mr. Shine shushed her comfortingly. “I’m sorry, Sunset.”
Home had been ruined. Going back now, when Old Sunset stood stronger than she had ever been, would destroy whatever joy in Equestria she had left. Sunset desperately wanted to return, but it would only be ash after all this. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, heaving a sob.
“Sunset, Sunset,” Mr. Shine said, rocking her softly. “I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t tell you what to do.”
“I…I need to know.”
“Sunset, I can tell you only two things.”
“What?”
“It’s something my grandfather used to say. The more you tell someone about who they are, the less you need to tell them what to do. I know you are kind and strong and want the best for the people around you.”
“That’s not true!” Sunset said. “I’m a horrible person.”
“No, no. You? The girl who always drops everything to help her friends? You, one of my best employees? Never.”
“I was a demon,” she sobbed.
“When?”
“Before!”
“That’s who you were, Sunset, not who you are.”
“I can’t,” she wailed.
Mr. Shine hushed her again. “Sunset, why don’t you take the day off? I think you need to take some time for some soul searching.”
“You’re sending me home?”
“I’m just giving you some time, Sunset,” Mr. Shine said with a smile. “If you’re going to find out what you’ll do, you’ll need to determine who you are and who you want to be. That’s hard to do while giving our customers great service. So just take the day.” With one more smile, Shine left, leaving Sunset alone in the break room with her open bag of chips.
---♢---
Sunset pulled into the drive-through and gave her usual. “Number 1, medium, with lemonade, please.”
“Of course, that’ll be 6.44 at the next window,” the female voice in the speaker said.
The Burger Bliss down the street was her regular dinner-time haunt, but she decided they could put her lunch together since she had the day now. She pulled her car around, wanting to sulk over being told to leave, but too devastated by what Mr. Shine told her to really put her heart into it.
The cashier smiled as she approached the other window and handed over the payment. “I thought it was you!” the cashier said with a smile.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re normally here every other weekday. We haven’t seen you in like two and a half weeks. Did something happen?” Sunset blinked. “Um…just…just some vacation.”
“Oh, did you have a good time?”
Sunset saw the Crystal Empire glowing with the dazzling lights of the sun. She stared down at the snow-covered north from the tallest mountain in the world. She felt the warmth in Flash’s smile as he tried to leave their past relationship behind them and saw the new her for what felt like the first time. How he cared about ensuring they were both safe in the wilderness made her smile.
The frown on Flash’s face when she told him she was returning to the human world still stung. The awkward morning after the fight rang in her head. The long train ride to Canterlot echoed in her soul.
“Well,” Sunset said before swallowing, “y-you know, highs and lows.”
“Well, it’s good to have you back,” the cashier said before handing Sunset her food. “I’ve gone ahead and upgraded your meal to the Heavenly Stack on the house.”
“Oh, well, thank you.”
“You’re welcome!”
Blinking, Sunset drove away, her emotions roiling from the sudden gift after reminding herself of her low points. She found herself at even more of a loss. All she managed to do was drive toward her house, thinking about everything, while she mindlessly chewed on a fry or two.
Her disappointment of an apartment awaited her, and as she parked next to the building, she found that her feelings hadn’t subsided. She went to her small pair of rooms and sat on the bed, still in a daze.
“The more you tell someone about who they are, the less you need to tell them what to do.”
How was that supposed to help? Sunset knew who she was. She was a pony that couldn’t be trusted with magic. How else could she put it? When she had access to magic again, she immediately started pulling other ponies’ minds into doing what she wanted. What’s worse is that when she wasn’t trying to pull puppet strings, she was just bad at doing what she needed to do.
She was only a better person when she didn’t have magic.
Laying down, she pulled out her phone to start mindless scrolling when she noticed it was dead. Going through the portal had down something to the battery, and the phone hadn’t decided whether it would hold a charge for days or empty in an hour. Grunting with annoyance, she rolled out of bed and moved to her desk.
With a press of a button, her computer hummed to life, and she plugged in her phone before noticing the Chaos notification.
She opened it and was bombarded with chats from her friends.
“There she is!”
“Sunset, jump on to voice chat. It’s been forever!”
“We’re celebrating Rarity’s Final Finals Week! The Final Final, which is actually final, unlike that game series that had like fourteen different ‘finals.’”
Sunset blinked before putting on her headset and heading into the chat room.
“Where have you been?” Rainbow’s voice said through the headset. “We texted you like a dozen times.”
“Between being in Equestria and my phone dying, I’m not sure it’s the best way to get a hold of me,” Sunset said.
“You were in Equestria?” Twilight asked.
“And you didn’t tell us?” Pinkie asked. “We could have thrown you a ‘have fun in Equestria party!’”
“You were all having finals,” Sunset said. “You just finished having finals. I couldn’t get in touch with you guys.”
“That’s fair,” Fluttershy whispered over the call.
“You need to turn up your mic, Flutters,” Rainbow said.
“I don’t want to talk over anyone, though.”
“Really though, I would have loved to know you were going,” Applejack said. “I would have asked if you could bring that apple from my counterpart’s farm. See which one of us is the better farmer.”
“I was nowhere near it, Applejack. Although, I probably would have preferred it.”
“What do you mean?”
Sunset sighed. “I…I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Uh oh. What happened, Darling, and how can we help?”
“I don’t know if you can help.”
“All the more to talk about it, then,” Rarity said with a smile that Sunset could hear.
Sunset sighed before glancing out the window.
“The more you tell someone about who they are, the less you need to tell them what to do.”
“I…I think I made the right call, but I’m not sure.”
“What do you mean, dear?”
“So,” Sunset began, hoping the girls would be able to point out where exactly she went wrong with this whole thing, “I had magic back for the first time in a long time, and I had to use it.”
“Okay, makes sense,” Rainbow said.
“But…it wasn’t good magic. I had to change some memories to keep from being stopped or too many questions from being asked, and…I felt like the best thing to do was quit the mission and head home.”
“Really?” Rainbow asked. “What was the mission?”
“There’s a really dangerous artifact over there, and I had to find it and bring it back.”
“And you just quit?”
“No, I found it. I just didn’t get it for her. I let Princess Twilight know where it was. It’s not like I abandoned her.”
“That’s…I mean,” Rainbow began before trailing off.
“That seems unlike you, Sunny,” Applejack said.
“I had to leave, alright?” She said, her voice sounding more defensive than she meant it to. “I couldn’t keep working with magic that close to me. I could feel the…the old me coming back.”
“And you let that stop ya?”
Sunset’s mouth hung open. The casual dismissal of Applejack’s statement and the apparent expectation that Sunset should have also forced her to pause. Her mind spun in circles as it tried to comprehend what Applejack said. “What?”
“I’m surprised to let the old you stop ya. I would have thought getting the chance to curb stomp her again would have appealed to ya.”
Sunset blinked, still unsure how to respond.
“Sunset,” Twilight said, “I’m not sure if you remember, but you did transform into an angelic being that beat the devil version of me and closed multi-dimensional portals. I’m pretty sure you had access to magic. Not to mention the Everfree gemstones.”
“Those…those were different!”
“Were they?” Pinkie asked. “I dunno. The destructive power of explosions and confetti was pretty strong. I could have done a lot of mean things with it if I wanted to. I don’t know if reading minds is different from changing a thought or two, but you could be pretty evil with either of them.”
“It’s a huge difference!” Sunset said. “Abusing the ability to plant memories and thoughts into a pony is terrifying!”
“And did you abuse the ability to read minds?” Twilight asked.
“No, but that’s not the point!”
Rarity spoke again. “Sunset, I believe what everyone’s trying to say is that you’ve already beaten your old self. You don’t need to worry about her.”
“But I started manipulating ponies immediately! She was there again!”
“What kind of ponies?” Fluttershy asked, her mic still too quiet.
“What?”
“What kind of ponies were you lying to?”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because if you were lying for the right reasons, I’d have to disagree with you. Sorry about that. I hope that doesn’t make you angry at me.”
Sunset stared at her computer screen again.
Rainbow spoke up again. “Look, if you’re worried about changing back into your old self, you can ask us if you’re heading too far off the deep end. We know that old hag better than anyone, and we know who you are. We can tell the difference.”
“The old Sunset,” Applejack said. “Lied left and right to hurt everyone around her. Now, you might stretch the truth a bit in ways I don’t necessarily agree with, but you’ve never tried to hurt someone with them. If I find out you’ve lied, I can trust that you thought it was the best thing to do at the time.”
Fluttershy spoke up. “I’ve watched you when you were your angriest. You’ve gotten really mad during video games, but I don’t think you could be that mean to anyone standing in front of you. Not anymore. You weren’t mean even when the whole student body was bullying you.”
“From the sound of it, some of the spells you cast weren’t even for your own benefit,” Rarity said. “Correct me if I’m wrong, dear, but did you change those memories for someone else’s sake?”
Sunset didn’t answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes. If so, then I can hardly blame you. It’s not like you changed the memories of hardworking ponies to get your way, was it?”
“N-no…”
“Then it sounds like you’re nothing like the old Sunset, Sunset. You’re doing what you had to to help, and the old Sunset would never have done that.”
“The only thing I can think of that was like the old you was that you left Princess Twilight to finish this on your own,” Rainbow said, “but like you said, you still made sure she had everything, right?”
Twilight spoke up. “I can’t really offer much. I didn’t know you this old you like the others. I wasn’t there, but the thing is, we know better now, don’t we? We don’t know what they were like, but also that they were liars. We know our old selves always tried to seem stronger than they were, and if we’re going to leave them behind, Sunset, we can’t start believing them now.”
Sunset couldn’t find any words.
She stared at her computer, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find something to say. An excuse? A rebuttal? An agreement? Sunset wasn’t sure what she was trying to say, but her throat wasn’t working whatever it was. She could only stare at her computer screen in stunned silence, trying to navigate everything the girls said. When she brought this up, Sunset had expected…well, she wasn’t sure what she expected, but not this.
She’d been a manipulator, a liar, corrupted by her old habits before she abandoned Twilight and Flash in their hour of need. The girls then turned around and told her she was kind, strong, honest, generous, and loyal despite everything. That’s who she was to them.
Even if she couldn’t feel it.
“Sunset, dear?” Rarity called.
She didn’t feel kind. Sunset knew better than to think she was honest, but her friends thought she was. And, even if she had already let Princess Twilight down, it didn’t mean she had to let the others down, too.
“I…I need to go. I need to go back.”
“Do you want us to go with you?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“No, no. You still have things to do. It’s my… it’s my responsibility.”
“Alright,” Rainbow said, and Sunset could see her nodding and smiling through the word. “That’s more like the Sunset I know.”
Sunset disconnected from the call and stood up. She spun on her heels, grabbed the book off her bed, and a pen from her desk before she started writing.
“Princess Twilight. I’m coming back.”
She tossed the book aside momentarily before picking up her phone.
Sunset made the call, and it rang twice before Mr. Shine picked up on the other side. “Hello?”
“Mr. Shine?” Sunset said, her voice shaking with…excitement?
“Yes, Sunset?”
“I…I need to go home.”
“Yes,” he said warmly. “Yes, you do.”
“I-I don’t know if I’ll be back.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. I’ll be waiting, though.”
She hesitated a moment, not sure what else to say. “Thank you, Mr. Shine.”
“I’m just glad you know who you are. Goodbye.”
“Bye,” she said, hanging up as the book buzzed on her bed.
“You’re coming back?”
Sunset smiled and wrote back. “Yeah, I have a job to finish.”
Flash flew inches above his fellow ponies, trying to keep Hoplite’s spear in his hooves as he came around to face their second golem now.
“Unicorns, fall back!” Night yelled from the rock he stood on.
As Flash began to climb with the squad of pegasi, he took another look at the battlefield.
As the pair of platoons passed by an open cave mouth next to a dizzyingly precipitous drop, the golem emerged, seemingly by accident. When it had, though, it began to tear into the unicorns. When the platoons recovered, the others attacked, but the monster continued to attack the unicorns, ignoring everything else.
A squad of pegasi pulled away, streaking through the sky to catch a unicorn the golem threw over the cliff edge. They caught him, but the greave crushed around his bleeding leg had Flash worried that he wouldn’t make the rest of the trip up the mountain.
He didn’t have time to think about it now, though.
Flash held his spear tightly as he began a dive.
The golem, in response, picked up a boulder to throw, but instead of hurling it at Flash and the pegasi, it flung the stone full-force at some of the retreating unicorns.
“Get down!” Night yelled again before the rock winged him in the shoulder. He yelped in pain and dropped into the snow, just in time for Flash to wedge his spear into the space between the golem’s “chin” and its “neck.” With all the speed behind him, he yanked the golem’s head nearly off its shoulders before the spear bent and sprang back, throwing him down into the snow.
A muffled voice yelled above him, and Flash sat up.
He sat just a few feet from the cliff edge.
“Charge!”
Flash’s head snapped over to see the Earth ponies rush the golem toward the cliff where Flash was sitting. He cursed before taking off, leaping into the air as the charging ponies kicked at and threw their bodies into the golem. With its single-minded focus on the unicorns, it didn’t even fight back. The golem teetered at the cliff’s edge for an interminably long second before tumbling over it.
The remains of the two platoons waited, holding their collective breaths for a long moment before relief flooded through them.
“Spymaster!” someone called.
“I’m alright!” Night called, sitting up in the snow. “I’ll need someone to set my shoulder back. It’s been twisted out of its socket.”
“Does anyone else need medical attention?” Flash asked.
“Help…” came the weak reply from the snow.
“Let’s regroup,” Night said. “We’re not going to move until we’ve figured out who’s hurt.”
Flash nodded before looking for a place to sit. After his first step, exhaustion hit him like a golem’s fist. He stumbled forward, and he just caught himself before he started looking for a stone to sit on. He planted his butt down on a rock and gasped for air. He breathed heavily for a second or two and slowly became aware of the soreness in his ribs. He might have broken something there. That would just be his luck.
He gasped once more before he focused on the world around him, just so that he could keep his mind off the pain growing in his side.
The unicorns took some heavy damage this time around. A lot of the ones left were unconscious, many with broken legs or worse. From the frowns of the guards moving through the ponies, Flash could tell more were simply dead.
They started as fifty ponies strong. Now, there were maybe thirty left.
Night’s cry of pain snapped Flash from his thoughts, and he looked over to the pony, slowly standing up, cursing as he cradled his leg. It seemed someone finally set it for the Spymaster. “What’s the count?” he growled.
“Four more dead. Jade, Sentinel, Stalwart, Opal, and Arrow are all hurt.”
Night cursed again. “Alright, pick one of the Crystal guards to take the injured back to the Empire. We’ll have to continue on.”
“Sir,” one of the Equestrian guards said, standing on shaking legs. “I can keep going, sir. I just need to rest for a bit, and then I’ll be ready to go.”
“I appreciate it, Stalwart,” Night said. “But we can’t afford that. If you’ll be good after a good night’s sleep, then it’ll be your job to protect the injured on the way back down.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Stalwart said before returning to his haunches.
“Two more minutes, then we make sure the injured are on the way down, and then we continue.”
“Yes, sir,” came the chorus of replies.
As everyone went to work, Flash watched as Night approached and sat beside him on the rock with a sigh. “I don’t think we have a lot of hope on this one. What about you?”
Flash grunted. “It’s pretty dire, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I could be wrong. It’s happened a lot in my life.”
Night smirked. “I know that feeling.”
They sat silently for a second before Night spoke up again. “Do you think your friend Sunset could make this easier?”
“Easily,” Flash said, without even thinking about it. “She knows enough spells to tear these things to pieces.”
“Yeah, sounds a lot like the Princess.”
“You think Twilight could have done this?” Flash asked.
“She could do this all by herself if needed,” Night said. “She not only knows all the spells, but she also has enough magical energy behind her to tear the mountain apart if she had to. Thronestone’s just about the only thing that could slow her down.”
“What’s Thronestone?”
“It blocks magic.”
“Ah.”
Another moment of silence.
“Kinda wish we had your friend with us.” Night said.
Flash grimaced. Sunset definitely should be here, risking her life with these ponies. She brought them all here after all. She found the stupid gem, so why wasn’t she out here miserable like the rest of them? Maybe if she actually wanted to be a better person instead of just going through the motions, she’d be here.
Didn’t she see that?
“Maybe,” Flash said. “It might not have worked out.”
A long beat passed between them.
“Maybe we should have had Twilight with us instead.”
Night was quiet for a long time before he shook his head. “Maybe. It might not have worked out.” Night stood with a grunt. Alright, we’ve given them the two minutes. We can’t afford to stay here if we want everypony else to get to the mountaintop. The golems would tear us apart. Alright, everypony! It’s time to get moving. Do we have a guide for the injured?”
“Sir!”
As the others began to move, Flash watched them for a moment before he got up with a grunt. They did need to keep moving.
---♢---
Everhoof decided that their journey wasn’t hard enough, so it brought summer storms down on them. A thick blizzard came down on the platoon-and-a-half of ponies amid lightning strikes.
“Sir!” One of the pegasi roared over the thunder. “Permission to clear some of the storm? It’s starting to slow us down.”
Night glanced up through the heavy curtain of snow. “Permission granted. Don’t stray too far.”
“Yes, sir!”
The pegasus took off, picking up a few more to go with him, taking to the air to open up some sky to make the journey easier.
Twilight could have teleported the whole platoon up to the gem instantly, and we wouldn’t have had to deal with this at all, but you had to open your mouth, didn’t you?
Night shoved the voice down. The whole point was that he didn’t need to think about it. He was here to focus on being the Spymaster, nothing else.
If that’s what you wanted, Twilight would be here, making your job easier. You were the one who pushed her away. It was for the best.
The pegasi worked carefully above the cloud line, opening the sky and thinning out the storm. The thick curtain of falling snow pulled back, revealing the path ahead of them.
And the golem waiting in ambush.
“Golem!” an earth pony yelled before disappearing as a boulder smashed into him.
The ponies scrambled for weapons and shields, spreading out in case the golem started throwing more stones.
“It’s holding a chokepoint!” one of the ponies yelled. “We can’t get around it!”
Another boulder flew and took an earth pony down.
“He’s hitting the earth ponies!” Night yelled. “Scatter!”
The earth ponies moved, spreading out.
“Don’t let that thing catch you! Unicorns, move up to—”
Night’s words caught in his throat as a rock the size of his head flew past his face, barely missing him. Night dropped to the ground, panting, as his life flashed before his eyes for a moment. That’d been too close.
“Stagger upward!” a new pony yelled. “Stay low to the ground, and make sure it doesn’t see us coming!”
Night took a deep breath, his hooves shaking, before he swallowed and started moving forward, digging through the snow. They needed to stop that thing if they wanted to get off the mountain alive, much less secure the crystal.
Another boulder slammed into the snow beside Night, leaving a crater in its wake. He whispered another curse before he rolled in the snow, trying to stay out of sight, only for his warmth to be sapped away by the cold. If he managed to survive the attack, he’d freeze to death shortly after.
Small comforts, he supposed.
He peeked over the edge of the snow and saw the golem’s arms windmilling as it threw boulder after boulder at the platoons.
A mangled corpse lay fifteen feet away, cooling quickly.
Night ducked down and rolled further to the side before looking over the snow’s edge and casting a spell. The range strained the magic, and Night had to pour on energy to sustain it, but it reached the golem and turned its stone casing to air.
The windmilling arms picked up speed, throwing stones faster now, first drilling into the snow where Night was a second ago before it began to arc across the entire area, covering the space where the platoon was hiding.
“We need to stop it!” Someone yelled.
“Somepony get up there!”
Night grit his teeth and rolled again, hoping that moving was the right play. If he stayed out of the way, he could make another strike. All he had to do was—
The sound of crashing stone roared above them, and Night poked his head up in time to see the pegasi push a landslide down the mountain. A rock the size of a pony slammed into the golem’s torso, splintering the crystal, and the whole construct began tumbling away, caught up in the avalanche of stone.
The pegasi landed, watching the thing crash at the bottom of the cliff, and Flash sighed. “Well, I guess that means they’re going to focus on us next.”
---♢---
They had six more casualties, and another guide had to lead them to safety. They were down to a single platoon and still had leagues to go before they got to the cave where the Doctor was working. Both Flash and Night had to fill in spots in the platoon, with Night taking the role of Sergent and Flash slotting into the Pegasus squad. Flash was on watch now and kept his eyes peeled as he stared into the cloudy night sky surrounding the remaining platoon of ponies. He grimaced as the wind bit into him, and he wanted his shift to end so he could return to the fire.
Sunset probably had a spell that would keep him warm until the shift was done.
He sighed.
He might have made a mistake.
The thought had been hovering around the back of his mind for the past three days. Sunset sounded very concerned about what she was doing, not even acknowledging that she was only helping the entirety of Equestria by doing only what was necessary. In fact, she was so worried about manipulating ponies that she was ignoring that Sunset was probably the only reason she was doing any of that, to begin with.
Still, he should have said something about it instead of reacting the way he did. She hit a raw nerve, threatening to leave him, but he should have done better than that, anyway. If he’d kept his own temper in check for another three minutes, he might have been able to convince Sunset to stick around for a little bit longer.
If she really wanted to become a better person, Sunset would try at least. She had to know that somewhere deep down.
Maybe she did know and didn’t want to be better? That made a lot of sense to Flash right now as he stood freezing his tail off on the side of a mountain.
His mind argued. The thought was unfair. She put too much effort into becoming a better person over all those years. There’s no reason to think she wasn’t trying other than his own bitterness. The same bitterness he’d been dealing with for years now. Sunset wanted to be better, but she must not know. But how could she not? How could she not see that this was the best move? She was smart enough.
Flash sighed.
Then again, he should know better than to blow up on her. He only made things worse every time he did that in their old relationship.
Wasn’t that ironic? He was the one making the same mistakes of their old relationship now.
He shivered.
Maybe everything was falling apart, and perhaps he was to blame. Maybe Sunset was.
Everything could work out perfectly, and there would be no problem in some strange universe that was indeed possible. Not this one, though.
No.
No, things were going were going down the toilet. And, in the most charitable of worlds, both he and Sunset were at the center of it.
How did things go so wrong so fast?
“See anything out there?” a voice asked behind him.
Flash turned and saw Night standing behind him, tightly holding his cloak.
“Just clouds. It helps that I’m looking in the one direction that the golems can’t come from,” the man-turned-pegasus said, motioning to the cliff’s edge a whole five feet away.
“Until they’re made to start flying.”
“Oh, could you imagine?”
“I really don’t want to.”
The wind buffeted the pair for a moment.
“Having trouble sleeping?” Flash asked.
“Something like that. We’ve got a lot of hurt ponies up here that can weigh on a pony.”
“Survivor’s guilt can do that.”
Night smirked.
They both stared out into the darkness for a bit before Night sighed. “You ever feel like you had something great, and you messed it up?”
Flash chuckled despite himself. “What, is it written on my face?”
Night glanced at him. “No, no…this one’s mine, I guess.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, we’re in the same boat at least. Both up a creek and not a paddle in sight.”
Night snorted. “I hadn’t heard that one before.”
“Never heard up a creek without a paddle?”
“Nope. Is that from over in the human world?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised you guys don’t have it.”
Night shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you.” They went quiet again before Night spoke up a bit later. “So, what’s the problem that you’re running into.”
“You really want to know?”
“It might distract us from the cold,” Night said.
Flash smirked. “Easy for you to say. You can walk right back over to the fire.”
“It could distract you, then.”
Flash shook his head. When Night didn’t walk away in the moment after, Flash spoke. “I thought someone could change.”
Night nodded. “And they couldn’t?”
“No, they probably did,” Flash said.
No response.
“They probably did change, but I didn’t…I tried to count on her, and she doubted herself. Instead of reaching out to help her, I made it worse.”
Night still said nothing.
“What about you?”
“I couldn’t change,” he muttered. “Even when she reached out to me.”
“Oh,” Flash said, not looking at him.
“If it makes you feel better, I don’t know if you reaching out would have helped much. Trying to be what you’re not takes a lot of effort. Maybe more than a pony can have,” Night sighed. “We can try, I think. But sometimes, it just isn’t in us.”
“It has to be!” Flash said, surprised by the anger in his voice.
Night looked back at him.
“It has to be in you. It has to be in her. I can’t accept the fact that it’s not.”
Night shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know what to tell you, Flash. I’m here, making things worse. You’re friend’s back where she is, not making anything better. Actions speak louder than words, right?”
Night didn’t say anything else. He just walked away, leaving Flash on watch, staring into the darkness.
---♢---
Night returned to his tent, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest. The words Flash roared, so angrily and furious, rang in his head like a battle cry.
“It has to be in you.”
Flash had to be wrong. He had to be. Night knew he’d never forgive herself if the pegasus was right, and he could have…could have made Twilight happy.
No. No, Flash had to be wrong. Night knew himself. He was a pony of secrets, shadows, and crime while she was High Princess. He didn’t belong in her world. It was good enough that he could help her. Nothing else was needed.
“It has to be in you.”
It couldn’t be in him. It was best to give up now before things got worse. He knew exactly who he was. He was a Master Thief, nothing more than that and nothing less. Spymaster was a new title to add, and it didn’t fit him. He’d do his best, but he wouldn’t fit it.
He knew that.
He couldn’t change. He simply didn’t have the capacity.
They managed to climb to the cave’s mouth. The platoon of weary and wounded soldiers finished climbing, thankful they didn’t have another golem to fight on the way up.
“The cave is going to have more of them inside,” Flash said. “The fighting in there’s going to be rough. If they come at us right, we won’t be able to maneuver around them. They’ll hit us like a truck if we’re not careful.”
“What’s a truck?” One of the crystal guards whispered from the campfire thirty feet away.
“No idea,” one of the Equestrians whispered back.
Flash ignored them, focusing on Night and looking for an answer. They needed a plan if they were going to get to the Crystal and get out alive. They already had too many losses just getting up here; they couldn’t afford anymore.
“We can try sending in a small force to try and steal the Crystal. Everyone else could try and make a distraction while I’m in there.”
“While you’re in there?” Flash asked.
“Rank of Spymaster’s gotta count for something, right?” Night said with a chuckle. “The truth is I can get it quickly, and you’ll have a harder time following me in. I’ll just have to go and try and get the thing out.”
“If you go in there, though, and you get caught, we won’t be able to help you.”
“That’s never been a problem before. It’s how I normally operate, anyway.”
Flash sighed. “We can’t afford you dying on us, Night. We need to be careful about this.”
“I know,” Night said. “This is the thing I’m the best at. I have a lot of experience sneaking; it puts the fewest ponies in danger and has the highest chance of success. This is the best plan I have.”
Flash sighed.
This wasn’t going to work. The human-turned-pegasus had no idea how any of them were supposed to make this work. He turned away to face the open sky behind them. The situation was terrible. They didn’t have the ponies, the equipment, or the magic to make this work. They were in so much trouble here and had no way out.
Flash sighed. “I don’t like this,” he said, “but I guess we don’t have much choice.”
“It’s not a great situation,” Night agreed, “but it won’t get better. We’ll have to make the best of it.”
“I hate that you’re right, for the record.”
“Honestly, I feel the same.”
“So we have no other choice, huh?”
“It doesn’t look like it.”
Flash shook his head. “Alright, so when do we move in?”
“Give me thirty minutes. I need to figure out how to sneak past them when they can see magic.”
Flash nodded before he began going over to the rest of the platoon.
“Hey, Flash.”
He turned to face the Spymaster once more.
“If I don’t make it out, it was great to know you.”
Flash smiled. “Likewise, Spymaster.”
With that last, grim farewell, Flash left the old stallion behind to talk to the last of the platoon. Since he knew so much of the golems, he’d become something of a leading voice. The sergeants and lieutenants all listened to him, which felt a little weird since he wasn’t in the military and somehow had fit in as Night’s second.
If Night died, these ponies would be looking to him.
No pressure.
---♦---
Night watched as Flash walked over to the campfire and the remains of the platoon of ponies sitting around it.
Surprisingly enough, the pegasus wasn’t so bad. Despite his attitude, he knew what he was talking about, and Night had to respect that. The stallion could lead if he wanted to. Night wouldn’t be surprised if Flash was in his world’s guard.
Maybe it was because he looked like the Crystal Guard’s captain that caused the guard ponies to look to him for leadership. Perhaps it was something else. Night wasn’t sure, but the ponies respected him, and the Spymaster knew that if he didn’t make it out of the cave, the guards would look to Flash for some kind of lead.
Poor sod.
The kid was sharp, but Night felt like Flash knew what responsibility carried with that. Night hoped it didn’t strangle the kid.
He stood and glanced over at the cave’s mouth.
Flash told him that the golems saw the world around them through magic if he remembered correctly. This meant that any attempt to transpose his Image as he usually did would not only highlight his body to their sight but also show the tether between his body and the transposed Image. Using his normal spell would be more conspicuous than usual, which did not help.
The first thought that came to mind was using Images to flood the space with illusions. He’d be able to hide amongst the illusions perfectly well, and if Night was right about how the golem’s perception worked, it would create an incredible smoke screen to hide in. The problem was that it would tip his hoof too early, and the golems would know he was there.
He needed a way of cloaking himself that wouldn’t alert the golems, but he was unsure how to do that.
The second thought Night had fell into the category of absolutely crazy, but if the golems could see magic, then the solution might be not to rely on magic at all. As dangerous as it was, Night might have had to try to sneak in without using any spells to hide him. He’d have to do something to hide his innate magic, but if he could manage that, he could sneak in fine.
What he wouldn’t do for a pebble of Thronestone.
Just a small piece would be able to block his magical signal from being seen by the golems, and he’d be able to waltz right up next to one, and it’d be none the wiser. Unfortunately, the entire supply of the magic-blocking rocks was being held in Canterlot to create anti-magic pockets in case of a security risk, deployable with lead containers that could open at the press of a button. They were too critical to the Castle’s safety for Night to bring with him.
He still had to come up with something, though.
He could try covering himself in the snow. A deep enough blanket might hide his magic. There could be a powerful Leyline that he could run along to get there. Or, more likely, he’d be crushed the moment he went into the cave.
He could try tunneling into the mountain if he had weeks. He knew a spell that could do it, but he didn’t have the energy to push through soon enough. The golems would find them before that.
No, Night would have to come up with something all on his own, and the timeline he gave Flash was already running out.
He sighed. He’d have to rely on too many illusions. It wasn’t perfect, but it was the only thing he could do.
The platoon of ponies started to approach, looking for one last sign that this mission would go well.
“Alright, ponies,” Night said. “Here’s the deal. The situation isn’t ideal. I’m going in with a dozen illusions. Hopefully, those illusions will give me enough of a smokescreen to get in and find the doctor. You’ll have to follow behind to distract the golems further. Chances are, they’ll try and run me down once I find the doctor. You’ll have to do whatever you can to keep them off me while I extract the Crystal. Are you ready?”
The Crystal Guards stared on with grim determination and pulled their white-furred cloaks close. The Equestrians adjusted their grip on their weapons. Flash shook off the snow, gathering on his wings.
They were as ready as they could be.
“Alright, let’s do this.”
He turned, facing the open cave, and began to Create Images of ponies around him. They didn’t have a lot of detail. Most were simply pony-shaped blobs that wouldn’t trick a 4-year-old, but it’s what energy Night was willing to spare. Luckily, they’d do what they needed to.
“Give me two minutes,” Night said before charging forward. The herd of illusions followed after him, keeping in a tight formation with Night slightly to the front and left side, avoiding the middle, the back, and the edges.
As he turned around the corner, his positioning immediately proved the best course of action, as a golem leaped from the ceiling and slammed into the middle of the group. The golem passed through the illusions, and Night kept running. He didn’t dare stop as the golem made a sweeping attack that would have sent Night flying across the room, but he kept his head down and ran.
He began to shuffle the illusions around him, jumping over each other and trading spots as they ran and reformed a new herd. Night now stood in the middle, teeth clenched as he moved.
He dived for the back of the cave, and four other golems appeared in his way.
They rushed him, and the golem he passed was closing in from behind. They closed in, swinging at all of the illusions. Night threw them around, dancing at crazy angles while he did his best to dodge.
A war cry sounded behind him, and he looked back to see the platoon rushing into the cave. They ran into the cave, weapons brandished as they covered the ground. The golem behind Night moved to intercept, rolling its arm up into a shield that met the spears without budging.
The illusions scattered in all directions, running through whatever spaces the golems left, and Night went with them, cutting to the left until he wasn’t surrounded by golems anymore. Once he and his illusions were out, Night gathered them all together and rushed for the door of the tiny home the doctor made for himself.
His peripheral vision caught that the golems were ignoring a handful of illusions. They were narrowing the field down. They’d find him soon.
When he got to the door, the handle twisted quickly, but the second he opened it, a smaller golem slammed into him, throwing Night onto his back into the cave. He stared at Prototype, who wielded a kitchen knife in one dexterous, stony hand.
It stabbed him.
He roared in agony and kicked, trying to throw Prototype off him, but it twisted its body at an unnatural angle and brought the knife down again.
Another two quick stabs came down before Night finally got his hoof underneath the small golem’s weapon hand. The golem brought more force down, trying to overwhelm Night’s desperate defense.
“YOU TIRE,” the voice felt deep, as though the entire ocean of magic lay behind it. It carried none of the warmth of living things, holding only the chill of stone. It spoke fact, an unbiased truth, simply because there was no personality in it at all. “IT WILL ONLY TAKE TIME.”
The golem’s hand continued to press down, a constant weight that Night had to hold, bleeding as he was.
“Help,” he cried, his voice hoarse and weak in his own ears as he looked around.
The platoon was scattered. Night hadn’t kept his concentration on the illusions, and the golems all turned their attention to the guards. Flash tried to use whatever airspace he could scrape by and use his spear to pry golem heads off bodies.
There was no one to help him.
The small golem continued to press down.
And then there was the pop of teleportation.
---♦---
Sunset appeared, standing next to Twilight as they appeared in the cave. She moved first, throwing the eight lead-line cases around the room and opening the spring-loaded latches. The Thronestone worked immediately, catching three golems and freezing them in place as the magic animating them was cut off.
Twilight moved next. With the ring of telekinesis, she grabbed the golem that had climbed onto Night and tore its limbs off. Still holding the body, Twilight pulled it closed and looked directly into the boulder that passed for its head.
“Do not touch my ponies,” were the only words she said before crushing the golem into gravel.
“Flash!” Sunset called before finding him about to be crushed by another golem but saved by the anit-magic Thronestone. She ran beside the frozen golem and saw that the fighting left Flash with a broken wing. “Flash, are you alright?”
“Sunset?” Flash said, his eyes unfocused as he tried to look at her through what had to be a concussion. “What are you doing here?”
Sunset just smiled. “The right thing.”
Flash smiled back. “I was hoping you’d figure that out.”
Sunset nodded. “Everypony! Get the wounded outside the cave. The golems can’t cross the box!”
The guards began to move, dragging the wounded out, and Sunset helped Flash to his hooves so he could do the same.
“Wait!” Flash said before pulling away. “We’ve got to get Night.”
Sunset looked back at the unicorn, limping after them.
She grimaced, reached out with her magic, and pulled him close. “Come on!” she yelled before setting him on her back and carrying the two outside. Twilight covered the retreat, heating the golems until the pressure building in the geodes caused them to crack and burst open.
She clearly had no more patience for the golems.
“Princess!” Sunset called, and the alicorn looked back over her shoulder at her. “I’ll take it from here. Tend to the wounded!”
Twilight nodded before she gave one more contemptible snort toward the golems. Retreating, she tossed one aside and crossed the Thronestone threshold they’d set up. Sunset stepped into that space and began to unleash her own magic.
Mind spells began to slam into the golems, changing their orders even as they received them, and whatever remained of the golems turned on each other with the same passionless determination they always brought.
Sunset went further as they fought each other, using magic she felt she hadn’t used in centuries. She poured her strength into a single golem, puppeting it and dominating whatever passed for a will. As her victim brought both arms down, it pushed another into the dead-magic aura of the Thronestone.
The Intellect Crystal saw her and tried to push her out, but Sunset was already moving, making the golem jump into the radius of another shard of changeling throne. She then focused on another, rewriting every action so that its arm bent backward as it tried to step forward. It tried to compensate but twisted its body instead.
A third golem tried to stop her, barreling toward it, and Sunset merely reached out and snuffed out whatever intelligence sat in the amethysts.
Sunset grimaced after Destroying the Mind. That one felt wrong. She pushed it a little far with that one.
She went back to Transforming and Controlling the minds of the golems around her, throwing the golems into confusion.
“Sunset!” a voice called behind her.
She didn’t turn to face the voice right away. Instead, she slipped past the Thronestone chokepoint, leaving herself safe. Finally, she turned and saw Flash, his wing healed. Behind him, Twilight was working on the other guards.
Night was standing, starting to draw out a plan in the snow.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“We heard something down the mountain. We think the other golems have been called in. We need to end this quick.”
Tinker Trot stared at his work. In the last few...hours? Days?
It has not been a long time.
Regardless, he decided to build stronger golems with fewer weaknesses that magic could exploit.
He wasn’t sure why, though. He needed to make sure they could be stopped if something went wrong, but—
A stronger golem proves your superiority.
Tinker couldn’t let someone show him up. What would happen if somepony dismantled a golem during a presentation? The humiliation would push back his work by decades, if not centuries.
He reached for his plate of food and found it empty.
“Prototype,” he called and was surprised by the sound of his own voice. It sounded dry, and his throat hurt as he used it. That couldn’t be right, though. Sunset and her guard had only been gone a week or so. His voice shouldn’t sound like that, especially since he’d been talking to Prototype the entire time.
There is no Prototype. Your genius did not require one.
He had probably just gotten lost in his work again and had not eaten or drunk anything lately. That wasn’t too strange. It was a nice throwback to his university days. He needed to get something to eat. He should make a smaller golem that could serve him meals while he worked. “It could even make sure I get to bed on time,” he thought, suppressing a yawn.
You are not tired. You are not hungry. You are not thirsty. You have to work.
Enough distractions. Tinker Trot couldn’t waste any more time. He had to work.
He finished his latest creation, and it stood, moving robotically toward the main room and out the door.
The fact that he didn’t give it any orders only seemed odd in his subconscious.
He took a second to feel proud of his accomplishment and was about to take a well-earned break.
There is no time. You need to present the best so that your work can be recognized.
There was no time like the present, though. The doctor really needed to push his work forward. Once he had enough stable golems, he could present them to the Princess and have an actual workshop.
He took a step back toward his workbench and stumbled.
We need to keep—
The sooner he was done, the sooner he could rub it in Professor Thesis’s face.
The Crystal pulled back, pleased that the doctor knew his place.
---♢---
“More golems are standing on the other side of the Thronestone, Princess,” a guard reported.
Twilight nodded, keeping an exterior of calm and control so complete that Night couldn’t help but be a little impressed. He wasn’t sure he could do the same, even when the guards needed it. “Keep a guard posted there. We must strike quickly if they figure out a way around the anti-magical field.”
“Yes, Princess.”
As the guard returned to the cave mouth with a fellow guard in tow, Night returned his attention to Twilight’s plan.
Twilight summoned parchment and drew out the rough layout of the cave. Sunset and Flash both offered everything they could remember about the cave and the tiny home the doctor built in its depths. The Princess stared at the diagram for another few moments before nodding. “Alright, here’s the plan,” she said.
Night looked up and put on his best “all business” look.
“We’re going to have to come in from two directions. Night and I will drill through the mountain to get to the Doctor and secure the gem. This whole thing stops once the gem is in a lead chest with some Thronestone. We’ll be the strike force there. That means the rest of you have to distract the golems.”
Night knew she’d do that. It was the best move.
“Now, with the Thronestone auras, you have places to retreat to for safety. Use these to your advantage, but be warned that unicorn magic cannot function in those same areas.”
Night nodded as he stood next to her. “Make sure to keep the cave mouth open. Don’t let the golems block your way out. We can’t help you if you’re stuck in there.”
“Also, be on the lookout for weaponry,” Twilight said. “From what I understand, these golems learn quickly. They might use any advantage they can earn to reach you in the antimagic fields. Use your own weapons to reach back.”
The guards nodded.
“Think you can manage that, Flash?” Night asked.
The pegasus gave him a weary but still somehow cocky smile. “I’ll make it work.”
Night grinned. “Glad to hear it. I’m trusting you, alright?”
“I heard you,” Flash said.
“Best of luck, my little ponies,” Twilight said. “Give us four minutes to start digging our way in, and bring everything you can.”
The guards and the two civilians nodded and gathered themselves for one more attack. And that left Night and Twilight not entirely alone, but they might as well have been. She looked at him, and he could see the hurt still in her eyes, hidden by the stoicism of her rulership. “Princess,” he said. “I’m ready when you are.”
She nodded. “Then let’s go. We only have a few minutes.”
With the pop of teleportation, they appeared over the cave, and Twilight got to work digging into the snow and rock beneath them. As Twilight moved the material behind them, a tunnel formed quickly, and within moments, they were inside the mountain.
“Twilight,” he said.
Twilight continued to dig.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
“I’m listening,” she said, not looking at him and continuing to dig.
“It’s about when you called to speak with me,” Night said, “before I came out here.”
She kept digging.
“When you asked when something was wrong, I told you there wasn’t anything wrong,” he said. “And that was a lie.”
Twilight paused for a second.
“There is a problem, and I messed up by not telling you. I made you worry, and that’s my fault.”
“You made me worry?” she asked.
“And it led to more problems,” Night admitted, “and that was my fault.”
“Is…” Twilight began. “Is now the best time for this conversation?”
“No, but it needs to happen, and better sooner than later.”
Twilight stopped tunneling, and the two were stuck in a small pocket of air, surrounded by rock and stone. She stared at him, and Night became aware that he held Twilight’s full attention.
“Twilight, I think we made a mistake. I shouldn’t have been made Spymaster. I thought I could make it work, being in the court, but I’m not made for the court life. I just—”
“Wait…” Twilight began. “Are you worried you don’t fit in? Has that been the problem the whole time?”
Night blinked. “It’s not that I don’t fit in,” he said. “It’s that I’m not made for the court. I’m constantly uncomfortable, and I’m not used to dealing with the politics or how to react the best way, and—”
“Night, you’re learning,” Twilight said, almost with a laugh. “Of course, you’re uncomfortable or don’t always know what to do. That’s okay. Ponies very rarely do, but you can learn. Everypony can, just like everypony can change. It takes time, it takes effort, and it’s hard, but you can change.”
“I thought you’d say that. After hearing what Sunset was going through, I couldn’t help but think…” he trailed off and took a shuddering breath. “I…I don’t think I can change, though..”
“Do you want to change?” Twilight asked. “Do you want to stay with me in Canterlot?”
He did. He really did.
Night nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I just need you to promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Then, as long as you don’t give up, I won’t either, okay?”
“Okay,” he said before forcing himself to smile. “Good talk, right?”
“Yes,” Twilight said with a laugh. “It’s a very good talk. Now let’s go save Equestria.”
“As the Princess wishes, so it shall be.”
---♢---
Doctor Tinker Trot kept working, making yet another golem.
He felt like he’d been making a lot of them recently.
You need to make as many as you can.
He had so much to do and so many goals to make, and he needed to work hard. He finished forming a club for one of the golems, though he wasn’t sure why.
To show how good they are at using tools.
The utility could prove precisely what his golems need to prove themselves to Princess Twilight. Once the doctor did that and received the recognition he deserved, Tinker Trot could work in a proper laboratory with assistants and tools that he could count on and someone who could get him something to eat.
You are not hungry. You can’t waste time.
There was such a weird feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t hungry, but it felt like he was, and it was so distracting. He couldn’t afford to think about it right now. He needed to finish this work, and whatever was going on in his stomach was a distraction he couldn’t afford.
He finished another golem, which was done in record time, and sent it out before he started working on the next one. And that’s when the wall exploded open.
---♢---
The Doctor wasn’t really what Night was expecting.
He looked tired, with bags under his eyes, and the ribs visible under his fur spoke of not eating for days, if not weeks. Night watched Twilight’s carefully planned surgical strike falter and break apart as she stared at a pathetic-looking stallion. Her heart won out over her anger, and Night could see that. “Doctor Tinker Trot?” Twilight called. “Doctor, I need you to stop what you’re doing and come with me.”
The doctor’s eyes were unfocused, and Night could tell he wasn’t seeing anything anymore.
“Who are you?” the doctor demanded, furious. “How did you get in here?”
“Do you take me for a fool?” the doctor roared. “I know what the Princess looks like, and you’re not her.”
Night slipped backward into the shadow, watching and moving.
“Doctor, the Crystal is changing your perception. It’s manipulating you.”
“That’s ridiculous. The Crystal can’t be manipulating me. I’m the one exerting control.”
“Doctor, you’ve fused it to your own brain. It can alter everything going on in your brain. It’s keeping you from recognizing me. You need to realize that.”
“I am in control!” the Doctor yelled. “You are trespassing.”
The Intellect Crystal began to glow in the back of the doctor’s skull as it filled the doctor with every spell that ever existed.
“Please don’t,” Twilight whispered.
Doctor Trot unleashed on her, throwing a fireball that could have rivaled the Sun.
Twilight answered by Destroying the spell outright before she responded in kind with her own, Controlling the stone around the Doctor to open up and swallow him whole. He picked himself up, hovering over the pit with telekinesis, and floated backward to solid ground. Even as he fell backward, the Doctor cast again, unleashing a lightning bolt that threatened to tear through the Princess.
She answered by forming a lightning rod in the wall beside her that swallowed the lighting whole. “Please, stop. We don’t need to fight.”
“You won’t steal my work!” the Doctor roared. “It’s mine! It’s all mine!” He exploded into brilliant light, lightning, and flames shooting out in a brilliant radiance. Twilight encased herself in a bubble of energy, which morphed into a tendril of energy that tried to wrap around Doctor Trot, but he also Destroyed the spell.
“Please, stop,” she asked, her voice still carrying in the chaos despite the hurt echoing in her voice.
“You won’t stop me! You can’t stop me, I refuse to—”
And that’s when Night decided enough was enough and opened the lead box.
The spells that the doctor was about to unleash stopped. His eyes snapped into focus as they saw the Princess for the first time. The doctor blinked wildly and glanced around, noticing Night standing behind him, ten feet away, with his lead chest of Thronestone.
“Wh-what happened?” he asked.
“You’ve been under the control of the crystal you stuck into your skull,” Night said casually.
“You’re still…still going on about that?” the Doctor said, hesitating. His confidence had been shattered, but he couldn’t admit to the truth.
“When was the last time you ate?” Night asked.
The silence from the doctor spoke volumes.
“Your golems killed a lot of ponies, Doctor.”
“That’s impossible,” he said.
“It’s not,” Twilight said, slowly approaching the doctor.
The doctor looked between them. “I…I couldn’t have.”
“You did,” Night said.
“But it doesn’t matter now,” Twilight said. “With the golems no longer connected to the Crystal, they should stop, and the guards should be safe.”
The door to the laboratory slammed open, and a golem stood in the passage, a club in one hand raised to smash on anything it could see.
Night reached out and covered the mouths of both Twilight and the Doctor. “Quiet, both of you. They shouldn’t be able to see us in the antimagic.”
“They shouldn’t be working right now,” Twilight whispered. “I don’t understand!”
The golem moved to the center of the room, searching for them.
“They’re autonomous,” the doctor whispered. “They’re made to be.”
Night sighed. “Well, at least they can’t network anymore.”
---♢---
Sunset stood in the gap between two auras of Thronestone, a spell hanging on her horn. She shot it out at the closest golem, taking direct control and slamming it into the golem to the left.
As the hit golem reeled, Sunset had the golem she was controlling drop to the ground just in time for the guards to swarm it. They pried the golem apart as Sunset rewired the golem coming after the attacking ponies, turning it around to run straight into a wall.
“Pull back!” Flash yelled. “Regroup for another attack.”
The guards pulled back to the Thronestone, and the golems tried to push forward, now armed with clubs and throwing boulders. The constructed monsters’ wild aim forced the guards behind a wall Sunset erected just outside the cave. So far, they’d done a great job of distracting them, and it appeared that the golems had somehow lost their ability to aim in the Thronestone, but they couldn’t keep going at this rate.
“Shouldn’t the Princess have gotten the Crystal by now?” one of the guards asked.
“Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t,” Flash said. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we still have golems in there, and we have to stop them.”
He received a nod in response, and the guards gathered themselves for another assault.
“Keep the golems at a distance. They have weapons now but don’t seem able to aim while we’re next to the Thronestone. As long as we stay close to those, we should be able to work them down. Once they get inside the aura, we tear them apart.”
Sunset smirked. “Flash!”
“Yeah?” he asked, coming over.
“Your plan’s good, but we’re going to change one thing.”
“What’s your idea?”
“I’m going to try and get a hold of a second box, and we’ll use it to go on the offensive. We can have the guards come in and tear them apart once we catch them.”
Flash smiled. “Have we ever been this synced?”
Sunset laughed.
“Get that rock, and we’ll make it work!” Flash said.
Sunset rolled her neck and smiled.
This…this is what she needed.
“Ready!” Flash called, standing in front of the guards.
She smiled and rushed the first Thronestone aura, dodging an incoming stone catapulting her way. On the way, she cast Transform Mind on the nearest golem. She first rewrote the entire sensory structure of the creature, and when she noticed that the Intellect Crystal didn’t stop her, she decided to go a step further. Locating the image processing crystal, she reversed them entirely.
As the golem turned on his allies, Sunset made a break for it, rushing for one of the spring-loaded chests and scooping up the Crystal with her hoofs. Sunset moved her Thronestone shard back toward the cave mouth as the golems tried to stop the confused construct.
“Move up!” Flash yelled. “Don’t give the golems a chance to breathe!”
The guards rushed in, and one of the golems reacted to the sound by throwing a boulder at the incoming ponies, but it soared harmlessly over their heads.
“Alright!” Flash yelled. “Forward on my mark!”
Sunset, holding the stone up, rushed the closest golem.
“Now!”
The guards followed close behind, staying within the Thronestone’s reach until Sunset enveloped one of the golems. It dropped to the ground, lifeless, only to be set upon by the guards. They started tearing it apart, digging spears into the joints, and separating its limbs from its body.
“Is it working?” Flash asked.
“So far! Let’s go for another one! Follow me!”
She approached the next golem, and it, too, fell. The guards worked quickly, tearing it apart, and that was when the cave’s back wall exploded outward.
Twilight stood in the open gap before throwing a golem arm into the others, many of whom were still turning to see what was happening.
“I am tired of all of you,” Twilight growled.
Sunset charged to the next golem, and the guard followed her, disassembling that one.
“Not a bad strategy, kids,” Night said, looking over Twilight’s shoulder.
“Where’s the doctor?” Flash asked.
“Super arrested. It’s just time to clean up these guys.”
“Well, if you want to take over, just let us know!” Sunset said.
“I’ll do it. Give me a second,” Twilight said before her horn began to glow. Magic burst into the cave, and golems dropped as Twilight Destroyed all the magic around her, cutting everything off.
The golems all dropped, hitting the ground together in a synchronized thud.
“Alright,” Twilight said. “Now, I don’t want to hear about anypony’s problems for the next hour,” she said before falling asleep on the spot.
Sunset woke up in a warm bed in the Crystal Keep. Light spilled in from her room’s window, hitting her directly in the eyes. Rolling over, she kept her eyes closed, too awake to go back to sleep but too sleepy to get out of bed. Caught between staying in bed or getting up, Sunset decided instead to stay put and let the past few days wash over her.
Twilight needed to rest after ripping out the magic in the area, so the guards gathered together and set up a campsite before turning their attention to Tinker Trot. They had to keep him close to the Thronestone, but they still needed to remove it from the back of his head so that it couldn’t cast magic through him anymore. However, Sunset already figured that the platoon of guards lacked any surgeons or non-magic healers.
Twilight had a spell temporarily stopping a pony from casting, but she still needed to rest. Without many other options, the guards manacled his legs together to a shard of Thronestone. Unable to move, the doctor was entirely at their mercy, and they were not giving him much of that.
When they saw him black and blue the following day, the only one who seemed surprised was Twilight.
After making it clear that she was not happy with whoever beat the doctor, she cast the suppression spell and teleported the entire group down to the Crystal Empire.
Then, Sunset’s ability to care dried up for the day, and she retreated to a warm bed.
Deciding against her better judgment to get up, Sunset peeled off the covers and got up, crossing the room to her mirror. She used a light application of magic to fix her mane and started heading out for breakfast when she was greeted outside by the same unicorn butler who had seen her off last time. “Good Morning, Lady Shimmer. How may I help you this day.”
“Uh, hi…I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I did not mean to cause a disturbance. Would you care for breakfast?”
“I was heading in that direction, actually.”
“Wonderful, breakfast today is cut strawberries on this sweetbread called a ‘pancake.’”
“I know what pancakes are.”
“I see. I was unsure if the news of this breakfast food had spread across Equestria at this time or if they were only a delicacy of the central region.”
Sunset gave a small smile. “I see.”
“If you follow me, Lady Sunset,” the butler said before leading Sunset to the grand hall.
Flash was already there, eating strawberries and pancakes. “Hey, Sunset!”
She waved and sat beside him, ignoring the smiling butler.
“Morning. Are you ready to hear about what happened yesterday after you left us all?”
“Just about.”
“The doctor’s had surgery and has officially been arrested. Night and Twilight returned to Canterlot, and the guards were all given medical attention. Everything’s good. On top of that, Other Flash said we can stay on his dime for as long as we want.”
“I’m so glad you’re good friends with your other self,” Sunset said. “I don’t know if I even want to meet mine.”
“It’s mostly because I’m easy to get along with,” Flash said with a smile.
“Sure,” Sunset said. “So what are you going to do now?”
Flash opened his mouth to say something but paused. The silence lasted only a fraction of a second, and he said. “Eh, I don’t know.”
She knew Flash well enough to know that he was blowing off the question, but the pause told her he also had many thoughts about what to do. “Are you heading back to Equestria, then?”
“I did a lot of hard travel in the past few weeks,” Flash said. “I’m probably going to take it easy first. I could relax here for a few days.”
Sunset nodded. “Honestly, that sounds like a great idea.”
“I’m sure you think so,” Flash said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sunset asked.
“You already had a break from all the travel. You took a train to get all the way to Canterlot and then teleported to the mountain. You had it easy.”
“Easy?” Sunset asked. “No, I returned to a retail job while you were out here.”
“That’s an excellent counterpoint,” Flash said. Maybe some time off would be good for both of us.”
Sunset nodded. “Sure, some time off for both of us sounds great.”
Flash smiled, and the two fell back into relaxed silence.
---♦---
Night woke up early. It was still dark when he got out of bed, but it would have to be to catch her by surprise.
While he spoke with Twilight up on the mountain, he still had a lot on his chest that he needed to discuss with her. The moments before jumping into a cave, surrounded on all sides, was not the best place for a heart-to-heart.
The dawn broke. Twilight was awake.
Night waited outside the door, taking deep, steadying breaths. He tried to steady himself, but he somehow couldn’t. His heart was thundering in his chest, and he couldn’t bring it under control.
Night had already told her he’d made a mistake, so he couldn’t figure out why he was shaking now. He had nothing left to admit, right? He shouldn’t be—
Twilight opened the door. “Oh, Night. Good morning.”
“Good morning,” Night said, feeling his throat close on himself.
“You, uh, don’t normally show up in front of my door at six in the morning. Is something wrong?” Twilight asked, looking him up and down.
“Uh, no…” Night said.
He couldn’t do this, but he had to. He needed to apologize, wholly and truly. “No…I just—” he paused before he took a deep breath. “We still need to talk, and we’re not trying to storm a cave filled with golems.”
“Okay,” Twilight said. “Do you want to sit down?”
He glanced at the cushions inside the room and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
She let him in, and Night followed, feeling the tension in his guts tighten with every step. He sat on a cushion but couldn’t get comfortable, no matter how he shifted.
The quiet stretched on for a second that never seemed to end.
“So you feel like you don’t belong?” Twilight asked.
Night looked up at her and opened his mouth to say something, but the words caught in his throat again. He needed to say something just to clear the air, but he couldn’t now, no matter how hard he tried to force them.
Twilight waited.
“N-no,” he finally said. “That’s not all of it.”
“Okay,” Twilight said, waiting.
Night tried to speak again and let her know what was going on in his head. “It’s not that I don’t belong, but it is. I was never a pony that was good at being with others. I’ve only ever been good at hiding and stealing. That’s not something you’d find in Celestia’s courts.”
“I’m not Celestia.”
“I know,” Night said, “and I understand why you put me in your court. I get it. It feels like I shouldn’t be there, even though you invited me.”
“I want you in my court, Night.”
“I know,” he said. “I know you do. I just…” he hesitated, trying to find the right words for the knot in his chest. “I’m just not sure you really want me.”
“Of course I do, Night.”
“No, I’m a problem. I’m a problem even if I’m just in the court. I bring problems with me, and I’m not really…” he hesitated for another second before he finished. “If someone else had my skills, they would be a better fit.”
“That’s not true,” Twilight said. “You are exactly who you need to be. I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my Spymaster.”
“You should,” he said as something released in his throat. “You deserve a better Spymaster than me.”
Twilight stepped closer and placed her hooves on his withers. “Night, I don’t care who I ‘deserve,’ I want you in my court because…”
She hesitated momentarily, and her nervousness appeared on her face as clear as day. Night looked at her, watching as she tried to say something herself.
She licked her lips before she stared into Night’s eyes.
“I love you, Night.”
Night felt the words wash over him. They crashed over him like a wave, and he felt like drowning. He felt the need to come up for air, but he couldn’t find anything to breathe as the words poured out from Twilight.
He wanted to push it away, to try and force Twilight’s confession back where it came from. He couldn’t accept it. He didn’t deserve it. How, by Celestia, was he supposed to take her love when he could barely take her acceptance?
“I can’t…” he whimpered.
The chime of magic filled the air, and he watched as Twilight cast a spell. Her mind unfolded, and the wave he had been crushed beneath became a tsunami. Her burgeoning respect transformed into admiration for his skills, knowledge, and sincerity. He felt her appreciation for his companionship when all her other friends had to step away for their own lives. Night could almost see Twilight’s heart reaching out to him, reaching for him no matter how much he wanted to hide in whatever shadows he could find.
And then, to his horror, he saw Twilight feel his thoughts. Night saw as his alienation washed over her. He could read in on his face. Worse, his feelings about her, the ones he tried to hide for her sake, bubbled to the surface, and in response, she merely smiled.
“Night,” she said. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hide who you are from me, Night. I know who and what you are. There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“I’m not made for this. I’m not good enough to be with you.”
“If I can become good enough to be a Princess, you can too.”
And she held him, and after a long moment, he held her back.
---♦---
Flash couldn’t believe the trip to Canterlot was so short. The train ride passed in minutes, even though he could clearly see the hours passing by on the train’s clock. They arrived late in the day, perfect for one last Equestrian dinner. The idea of finding a place to stay the night after eating had an appeal that he couldn’t turn away, either. “Know any good places to stay the night?” Flash asked.
Sunset shrugged. “Maybe. It’s been at least twenty years since I’ve been here on this side. One bad change in management could change everything.”
“Any you want to check up on?”
“There was a good place that had some great cinnamon rolls for breakfast. A family recipe, I think.”
“That sounds great,” Flash said. “We’re a little late getting to the castle, so staying the night might be our only option.”
Sunset smiled her soft, knowing smile, the one he saw whenever he saw through his white lies. “Sure,” she said, “that sounds like a great idea.”
She directed him down to an inn, which—instead of being some large franchise—bore the simple name ‘The Candlelit Mantle.’ It wasn’t quaint, not like the tavern in the Crystal Empire. It had the same air as a severe and fancy hotel he’d find in his world’s Manehatten, but it still didn’t feel the same. This one was somehow older, more respectable.
“How much for two rooms?” Sunset asked the mare at the front desk.
“One hundred eighty bits includes two rooms, dinner, and breakfast the next morning.”
Sunset blinked. “Um, can we skip the meals?”
“Unfortunately, no, ma’am,” the clerk said. The Candlelit Mantle’s policy is to provide meals for all guests. You can choose to forgo the meals, but they will still be charged to your account.”
Sunset glanced back at Flash. “Um, I didn’t bring that much back with me.”
“Uh, okay, I-I don’t—”
“Do you want to try one room?”
He blinked, the words processing in his brain.
They had done this kind of thing before but were an item at the time. That being said, it’s not like Flash would see anything new. If he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure if privacy was a problem in pony bodies, and he didn’t want to head back to his world right now.
“I guess?” he said.
“How much for one room?” Sunset asked.
“Ninety bits even, ma’am.”
“We’ll take it, thank you.”
The clerk handed over a key and gave them directions to the room. Sunset thanked her and took the lead up the stairs. They climbed up to the fourth floor, giving them a decent—but by no means spectacular—view of southern Canterlot. The vaguely medieval city looked incredible with the swirling spires, an architecture that reminded Flash of soft-serve ice cream.
“I’m kind of glad we sprung for the meal,” Sunset said. “Last time I came here, they had an amazing ratatouille that I don’t think I’ve ever gotten over.”
“I’m just glad for a chance to rest before heading back home,” Flash said.
“You’ve taken it pretty easy heading back,” Sunset noted.
“Yeah, you’re not wrong.”
“Is there a reason why?” Sunset asked.
Flash glanced over at her. She was playing coy. He could already tell that she’d guess the reason why. A part of him wasn’t happy that she was so good at reading him, but he’d gotten nearly as good at racing her, so the trade-off was at least equal.
“There might be,” Flash said. He didn’t want to give Sunset everything. She needed to work for it as much as anyone else.
“Might be?” Sunset said, and her tone made it clear that she knew he wanted her to guess. “Is it because you don’t want to leave?”
“You got me,” he said.
Sunset shrugged. “I get it, honestly. I have returned once or twice since being on good terms with the Princess, but this is the first time I’ve felt like I was coming home.” She hesitated a moment. “You know, despite the long hike up a mountain.”
Flash nodded, almost surprised that she told him so easily. Her old self would never have given him that kind of vulnerability. “I get it, honestly,” he said. “Equestria’s nice. It doesn’t feel as…I dunno, grimy?”
Sunset shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” she said, “but it does feel like I can do what I want to better while I’m here.”
Flash nodded, his mind going back to leading the guards. They’d look to him as a leader, and helping them through the snow and the fights felt…right in a way that he couldn’t explain. “I think I get that.”
Sunset moved to stare out the window and watched the city as the sun began to drop below the horizon.
Flash joined her a moment later. The city sparkled in the pink-orange light. The swirling spires and gleaming towers looked like a painting created by a master, with the dying light forming perfect brushstrokes. “So what else is out there?”
“A lot,” she said softly. “Canyons filled with massive eels, caves with crystals that reflect a thousand reflections like mirrors, deep jungles, and wild forests. I’ve even heard that a civilization of seaponies appeared out of the ocean.”
“Seaponies? Those anything like mermaids?”
“Yes, but they can also change into flying bird ponies too.”
“Like pegasi?”
“More like griffons. I don’t have all the details.” She glanced over at him, and he turned to face her. “I could find out, though.”
“Yeah?”
She shrugged. “All it would take is a little time. I could get a commission from Twilight and then go anywhere to research anything. I could see anything, go anywhere.”
“Would you?” Flash asked.
Sunset nodded. “I think I will,” she said. “I need to work some things out. Decide if the human world is where I want to be or not. I do have a life there and friends there, but they’re off going on their own journeys. I’ve basically got to wait for them to visit anyway, so I might as well do something on my own.”
Flash nodded. “I can see that. I do have a question for you, though.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I go with you?”
Sunset blinked.
“You want to?”
Flash nodded. “I do. I need to figure out some stuff, and some adventure sounds fun.”
“Enough that you want to stay in Equestria?” Sunset said, but Flash knew she meant “enough that you would go and stay with me?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
He knew what she was asking, but he played dumb for a moment. “I could use a change of scenery. Besides, leading the whole expedition did feel really fulfilling, and I—”
“No, no. I mean…” Sunset blinked away some confusion still clearly visible on her face, but pushed through. “You want to go with me? You only came the first time because you wanted to prove yourself to Twilight. Then, because you wanted to do the right thing, you stayed. Why go with me?”
He gave a small smile. “Well, that’s the thing, right? I thought, after we dated that I knew the real you. Even after you changed and gave up ruling the whole high school or whatever, I thought I understood what you were doing. I thought it was more of the same but slightly less annoying.”
She looked back unamused.
“This whole trip proved me wrong. You’re not the person I thought you were. You might not even be the person you thought you were.”
That got a smile back on her, small and pensive.
“And I think I’d like to know who this Sunset is, the one I haven’t met before. The one I think deserves a second first impression. So yes, I would like to go with you. Do you want me to come?”
Sunset smiled back. “Well, I can’t help but think it’s a good idea to bring someone who knows how to set up a tent in the middle of nowhere.”
Flash smiled back. “Then it sounds like we have a plan.”
