The Mane 6, along with two unlikely allies, must uncover the magical science of Aurora Streak.
An Inky Jay Story
Twilight is selected as Ponyville's ambassador after a massive flying capital ship descends over the settlement. She finds herself attempting come to an agreement with the ship's creator, a mysterious allicorn named Aurora Streak, while simultaneously trying to uncover the secrets of the mare's past along with the motives for her scientific endeavors.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Mane 6 resort to their own methods to decode the intentions of Aurora.
All will come to a head with the arrival of Equestria's rulers, as Aurora enacts her final plan. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Credit to the wondrous Lapis-Lazuli for the chapter names.
The cold night air of a wind-whipped desert tugged at the mane of lone mare as she silently traversed the sands. Even though her mane glowed subtly under the moonlight, it was not near enough light to lead her way. This task was in the hooves of a lantern swinging with rusty creaking from her mouth. None of these small details did she allow to rest in her mind, for there was much for her to do. Not that she disliked the large amount of work before her—on the contrary—she relished it, but her resources had an annoying tendency to be rather scarce. Hunting down the necessary ore was the irritant. Every day and night, her hours of operation were limited, and often she would spend whole weeks searching for a sufficient quantity.
If she had had her way, she would not be in this position at all. Only, every antagonistic event that could have plagued her life had done so. The worst part was not actually her relative inability to do her work, but the knowledge that she had deserved everything her punishment entailed. She could blame no one but herself. She still believed in her actions, for part of her punishment was for nothing more than refusing to beg for forgiveness, but she could only blame herself for being caught. It would be all too easy to blame her failure and capture on her former associates. They had, after all, abandoned her the moment their attempt had been revealed, and she arrested for her direct involvement. At first, this was indeed how she had viewed the entire sequence of events. Over the years though, she had come to the realization that her carelessness, sloppiness, and complacency were solely responsible for her fall from grace. Eternal exile for the ‘corruption of the natural order’ was not something she celebrated—at least not in the traditional sense—but it had at least given her the utmost freedom, if at the cost of efficiency and speed.
Of course, this train of thought was more easily come by in her present state. For even though she still had much to do and was beset by a need for secrecy and evasion; she had been flouting the laws of the land and the decrees of her punishment for the longest time of anypony in history. Adding to this pleasurable thought was the knowledge that her project was on the verge of completion; that its existence was still hidden; and that no one even suspected her resurgence.
So, even though she was mildly irritated, in the grand scheme of her devising things could not be better. Yes, Aurora Streak was ready, and the House of a Thousand Fangs was nearly at her beck and call. ______________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow Dash, proudly the fastest Pegasus in all of Equestria, considered herself well-educated on sky bound objects. Clouds, thunderheads, lightning, rain, birds, bugs, pegasi, floating buildings: Rainbow swore she had seen it all. “Then again,” she thought, hovering with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, “I’ve never been this close to an Equestrian border this long.” Her job had been simple, but one she relished more than anything. Her idols, the Wonderbolts, had asked if she knew of any particularly windswept areas that were out of the way. According to Spitfire, their traditional training grounds were becoming too routine, not to mention clustered with fans and reporters. Clearly, they needed a new place to practice. Of course, Rainbow had been only too happy—no beyond that—she had been totally stoked to help them. The spot in question was on the edges of the Equestrian border, quite a distance from Ponyville, or any pony settlement for that matter.
The land across the line was a wind blasted desert: a complete desolation. Rainbow thought it was the most visually bland place in Equestria, but this time, it did not matter. The fierce currents from the desert carried over into Equestria, providing a chance for pegasi to train against the worst air funnels nature had to offer. Rainbow had honestly only ever spent serious time here on two separate occasions. Both had been incredibly short. The wind she could deal with, it was why she came there after all. The loneliness she could take too; she was tough. But the sand and grit, she would never get used to it getting stuck to every part of her body. However, the Wonderbolts had suits and goggles, and thus the sand would not bother them in the slightest.
But now, with that unidentifiable thing flying toward Equestria, Rainbow was not so sure anymore. “Well,” she said with a shrug, “only one way to find out what the hay it is.” With an appropriate pose beforehand, Rainbow rocketed toward the vessel, the wind screaming in her ears in no time. The closer she got, the more confused she became. It looked something like a boat in shape, but it had no masts and was wide rather than long. Its bottom was not deep, but shallow and conforming to the odd shape of the deck. If she could have, Rainbow would have continued to gain speed on her approach, but her proximity to the vessel was slowing her down instead. She scanned the ship for anything capable of doing this, and her eyes narrowed upon seeing the rear. Spewing glaring red flames with enough force to topple a mountain were four massive tube-like devices. They were made of shined brass, much like a goodly portion of the vessel. But the shaking alone could not account for her rapidly dropping speed. It was like flying through molasses for all the work she was putting into staying up. “Come on!” she screamed aloud, willing her wings to beat faster.
Even if her ever-loyal wings were somehow failing her, she could at least make a banking pass of the boat’s deck. This showed not only the empty captain’s wheel, but an odd collection of brass plates built into the wood along with small, brass smokestack-like things that appeared to be attached to ball bearings. “That is so weir…!” Rainbow began saying, but the moment she passed over the deck, her wings completely failed, going uselessly limp and dropping her onto the wood. She screamed and winced upon landing, curling up with a severely sprained foreleg. “Shoot!” she hissed through the pain. “Well, maybe whoever owns this thing can help me. They oughta too, since their stupid boat dropped me out of the sky.”
“Do not insult the House of a Thousand Fangs by calling her a boat,” a voice penetrated the roaring of the flame geysers. It rang of Luna’s regality, but lacked its refinement and dripped with cynicism. “If you are going to insult something do it properly. Now, get off my research vessel before I throw you off.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Rainbow retorted, turning to see the mare speaking to her. She was just some stupid deep blue unicorn with a purple mane and tail streaked with green anyway. “You can’t just throw me off just ‘cause you don’t like visitors. It was your dumb boat that killed my wings and your stupid deck that sprained my leg!”
“Interesting…,” the unicorn whispered dangerously to herself. Her eyes closed, and her horn began glowing. Rainbow flinched, ready to be grabbed by some sort of spell and tossed into the sky, but nothing like that happened. She tentatively opened one eye, and could not help but audibly gasp. Surrounding the ship like a bubble was a sphere of sparkling, glowing color: undeniable magic. It was slowing fading from color to color, almost every shade of every hue represented. Under normal circumstances, Rainbow would have been impressed. It was an awesome sight, but more than that, the magic gave off a malevolent aura that drove away any sense of cool the field had. Finally, the field disappeared, or rather, it simply became invisible again, and Rainbow turned her attention back to the mare. “I have changed my mind. You are staying with me,” she said definitively.
“And what if I don’t wanna?” Rainbow asked, defiantly. The last thing she wanted to do was stay on this creepy boat with this creepy unicorn.
“Just a moment ago, you did not want to leave,” the mare said calmly.
“Well duh!” Rainbow replied. “If I could, I’d get off your stupid thingamajig, but my wings won’t work and my leg’s sprained. Pay attention why don’t ya.”
“No matter. You will remain that way as long as you stay here, so I guess you have no choice,” the unicorn said, and she flared wings.
Oh hay! She’s an allicorn! Rainbow realized with more than a little bit of fear. There’s no way I’m gettin’ away from her unless… The idea was simple, but insane; just the type of plan Rainbow liked best. Reinforcing her mind against the likely pain that was to follow, she dropped onto her back and rolled to the right.
“What are you doing?!” the allicorn yelled, voice cracking with confusion. Rainbow could not respond without screaming out in agony. Her plan was working, but her leg would rather it not be. With her speed unparalleled anywhere, Rainbow was off the edge of the rail-less deck in seconds, plummeting away from the boat through the clear air. As she had thought, her wings began to obey her again the further she fell, and she was zipping away toward home in no time.
We’ll settle this later… Rainbow glowered as she glanced back at the now accelerating vessel. Right now, I’ve got to warn Ponyville and Princess Celestia about you. However much Rainbow wished it were not so, there was no denying the ship was on direct course for her home. _____________________________________________________________________________
On normal Tuesdays, Twilight Sparkle—student to the Princess of the Sun, Celestia—would set about cleaning the library. She routinely did this once a week, and was often amazed that a place as peaceful as a library could become so messy. And every time this thought passed through her head, she would be reminded of the countless mishaps that had occurred within her current residence. A sigh usually escaped her then, followed by a bit of guilt for allowing so precious a building and its even more precious books to be at constant risk.
That was not to say she and Spike did not pick up after themselves. They tried their hardest to keep the place presentable, but Twilight had something of a bad habit of starting too many projects at once. Things inevitably became cluttered, giving her ample reason for a weekly cleaning. This particular Tuesday, however; Twilight could either finish twice as fast, or she would be stuck with a greater mess than when she first started. Pinkie Pie—loveable, crazy, random Pinkie—had asked if she could help her and Spike. Her reasoning, in her own words, had been, “Well you can’t stay cooped all day! That’s just awful! You need have time to get up and move…a…round!” Twilight had said that would be great, even if she had not meant it. If it had been Rarity or Applejack, she could have said no and felt okay about it. Rarity and Applejack would understand. But Pinkie was another matter entirely. It was just so hard to say no to her. Part of this, Twilight was convinced, came from her perpetually hyper nature, but only the coldest pony in the world would ever think of denying Pinkie Pie. Just seeing her reaction to being turned down would wrench any normal pony’s heart.
“Well, maybe she will be helpful,” Twilight said to no one but herself, opening the store room for the cleaning supplies.
“Yeah, if by helpful you mean knocking over every bookcase in here,” Spike said grumpily, trudging down the stairs with a stack of books taller than him.
“Don’t be that way Spike,” Twilight replied mildly. “Let’s not forget that you’ve knocked over the cases before.”
“But when I do it, it’s only ‘cause I can’t reach or you’ve given me too many books to put up,” Spike fought back.
“Ugh, listen,” Twilight turned around, irritated, “you should just be grateful she wants to help. I mean, Pinkie normally hates doing stuff like this, so…just appreciate it.”
“Whatever,” Spike mumbled. Twilight chose to ignore him, as the only way she would win this argument would be if Pinkie really did turn out to be helpful. Twilight waited for a few moments, gathering her thoughts. Only after clearing her head did she begin to fill a mopping bucket with water. The tap could not have been running for more than two seconds when the door was smashed open.
“Hey Twilight!” Pinkie yelled, annunciating each word with equal amounts of grandness. Being unprepared for Pinkie’s early arrival, Twilight jerked her head up and banged it on an overhanging shelf. Stinging pain and shock knocked her hoof out, spilling the bucket, and her control over the tap disintegrated. The result was a spray of water all over her body and a pulsing hoof and forehead.
“Morning Pinkie,” Twilight said with a groan.
“Whadya need?” her friend asked enthusiastically, bouncing over and bending her neck down to Twilight’s level. Her eyes—overly wide, bright, and cheerful as ever—showed not the slightest realization that she had been responsible for the mishap.
“Sure, could you fill this bucket with water while I go dry off?” Twilight asked, voice dripping with cynicism.
“Okay!” Pinkie answered, flippantly pushing Twilight out of her way and eagerly switching the tap on again. With nothing more for it, Twilight dragged her soaking wet mane and tail up the stairs, doing her best not to think about what Pinkie might do while she was gone.
“Told you…” Spike chided her in a sing-song voice as she passed. She paused significantly to glare at him, but wet as she was, it did not have the full effect. While he kept his mouth shut, Spike still motioned with his arms as if to convey, “Hey, I’m right and you know it.” Twilight sighed again, and already she was beginning to brace herself for a day of stress and continual groans. But if her lessons with Princess Celestia and adventures during her stay in Ponyville had taught her anything, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that perseverance always paid off. This thought lifted her spirits considerably as she dried herself off with a towel and threw it onto the building pile of laundry.
Upon making her way into the actual library again, she was impressed to see both Spike and Pinkie working. Well, upon a second look, only Spike was really working. Pinkie had somehow procured boar-bristle brushes Twilight knew she didn’t have; strapped them to her hooves; and was now skating wildly around the library floor, suds trailing her. “What’s wrong Twilight?” Pinkie asked on a pass, seeing her friend’s bewildered look. “You didn’t think I’d just sit and scrub all day did you? Boorr—ring.”
“Well, as long as it works,” Twilight replied good-naturedly. It was certainly not the most harmful idea Pinkie could have thought up, and she had honestly been expecting worse. Holding out even more hope for the day, Twilight levitated a duster and began giving her upper shelves some much needed TLC.
“I LOVE water!” Pinkie shouted randomly, throwing herself in the air before landing with all four hooves in the too-small bucket. The contents splashed all over the floor, and Pinkie immediately leapt out again to twirl over the wood. “Do you have a washing bin Twilight?” Pinkie asked, doing complex acrobatics too close to a flinching Spike for his comfort.
“Sure,” she replied, looking down to check their progress. “You want me to take over the floor for a bit so you can start some laundry?”
“Nah,” Pinkie said lightly. “I was just thinking how fun it would be to fill it with soapy water and throw Spike in. I bet he looks hilarious covered in bubbles.”
“Well, it has been a while since he took a bath…” Twilight admitted, pointedly watching her baby dragon.
“No,” Spike said flatly with half-closed lids. “It’s bad enough I have to reorganize these books every week. You and Pinkie aren’t getting a good laugh at my expense.”
“Does he really need a bath?!” Pinkie asked, skidding to a slippery halt and completely ignoring Spike.
“I think so,” Twilight answered more confidently.
“Absolutely not!” Spike insisted, fists clenched.
“Come on Spike!” Pinkie zipped over to him, hooves still strapped to the scrubbers. “It’ll be fun! Getting wet in the summer is always the best way to par-tay!”
“Dragons don’t take water baths,” Spike informed her in a formal tone. “The most we do is sunbathing.”
“Please Spike,” Twilight said from the wash closet, arranging the laundry so she could drag the bin outside. “You’d be more than willing to take a bath if Rarity asked.” She emerged with the bin hovering over her back to Spike staring blankly and blushing. Pinkie had noticed, and was rolling on her back in the cleaning water on the floor, laughing insanely.
“Hahahaha! I LOVE it when Spike blushes over Rarity! It’s so funny! Hahaha!” she squealed.
“It’s not funny!” Spike complained fervently, attempting to save what remained of his dignity. This only furthered Pinkie’s hysterics and even Twilight could not help but snicker. “Well, you’re not giving me a bath regardless,” Spike said, crossing his arms solidly.
“Try me,” Twilight said mildly, grabbing him in her floatation spell and hauling him and the basin out the door. Pinkie followed, still laughing her head off and wearing the bristle scrubbers.
It really was a beautiful summer morning, not yet too hot but with the sun shining comfortably on the grass. “Cheer up Spike!” Pinkie said in her usual upbeat tone. He only stared unconvinced at her from within the levitation spell. “Really!” Pinkie continued. “I’ll even give you a back scratch with my scrubbers.” She punctuated this with an emphatic wave of her front hooves, which, while walking forward, resulted in a fantastic tumble, head first into the grass. “Weird,” Pinkie said, more to herself than Twilight, “I normally have no problems walking on two legs.”
“Well, we can’t always be perfect,” Twilight said smiling. “You okay though?”
“YEP!” Pinkie shouted, leaping up and bouncing ahead without the slightest sign she had just fallen flat on her face.
“She blows my mind,” Spike said.
“I think she blows just about every pony’s mind,” Twilight agreed, following her friend to the small yard behind the library. Once around, Twilight plopped the tub as close as possible to the outdoor faucet and ungracefully dropped Spike inside it. His head quickly came back up, a glare of disapproval at the ready. “Sorry,” Twilight apologized with a small smile.
“And now for the best part: WATER JET!” Pinkie exploded with glee, kicking the tap wide open with her back hooves. True to her promise, the pipe gurgled, dropped a small tear, and finally blasted the entire yard with enough water to flood Celestia’s throne room. Without a warning, Twilight was bombarded by the gushing flow and her mind was rendered nearly frozen from shock. Pinkie on the other hand—likely having planned it from the start—screamed with amused craziness and leapt into the flowing water. Her mane and tail were blown behind her like there was a fierce wind in her face, and she opened and closed her mouth to allow the bursting water to tickle the back of her mouth. For Twilight, it was her one chance. She dashed away from the broken water stream and hurriedly shut the tap. “Awwww….” Pinkie responded. “Didn’t you think that was the best EVER!?”
“Well…” Twilight tried to politely avoid telling the exact truth, “it certainly woke me up.” She smiled in an attempt to convince Pinkie Pie, but her friend was not buying it. She stared unconvinced until Twilight tentatively opened her eyes. “What?” Twilight asked exasperated.
“Look at Spike!” Pinkie gestured with her hoof, as if this were the most obvious thing one ought to do after escaping a jet stream of water. Twilight did as Pinkie said, if only to see what in Equestria she meant. It was as if Spike had been transformed into a completely different dragon, his purple and green scales standing out sharply in the light of the sun.
“Whoa…” he said, gazing at his new look. “There’s no way Rarity’ll turn me down now. Pinkie Pie! You’re the best.” He zipped over to her, embracing her one front leg.
“No problem,” Pinkie said. “And it was fun too.”
“Are you kiddin’ me?” Spike replied. “It was awesome! Bump on it.” He and Pinkie tapped their fist and hoof, and Twilight could only tilt her head in bewilderment. Some days, Spike was just as random as Pinkie.
“Whatever happened to giving him a scrub on the back?” she could not help asking as she wrung out her mane and tail with a spell.
“I just thought shooting water at him would be more insane!” Pinkie said animatedly.
“Huh…” Twilight gave up. “Come on, let’s go finish.” She had just taken a step forward when the ground began shaking violently, as if there were an earthquake. “Wait! Ponyville doesn’t get earthquakes!” Twilight realized aloud.
“Then how do you explain this?” Spike asked, knocked onto his side by the intense vibration.
“Who cares?!” Pinkie asked, having kicked off her scrubbers and allowing the shaking to jiggle her whole body like a pebble on pavement.
“Twilight!” Spike suddenly shouted. “In the sky! To your right!” She immediately turned her eyes up, and gasped audibly at what she saw.
“Spiiiike! Go try to find Rainbow Dash as quickly as you can! Pinkie, you and me are gonna go get Fluttershy!”
“O o o o k k k ay ay,” Pinkie agreed, allowing the shaking to carry her after the galloping Twilight. ______________________________________________________________________________
“How the hay is it keeping up with me!?” Rainbow Dash hollered to the sky above Ponyville. The mysterious ship she had thought to be an old clunker of a flying machine was in fact capable of blasting through the air faster than a train. Rainbow could still outstrip it, but Ponyville was already in a panic by the time she got back. Even Rainbow herself could not hide a certain level of fright. For some reason, upon nearing Ponyville the ship had come closer to the ground and the shaking in the air and earth had intensified. Rainbow hated it; if only because she was forced to slow down to avoid crashing into trees and buildings. She hated slowing down, and that allicorn mare was going to pay.
But even though her own issues with the vessel were detrimental, her urgency for one of her best friends drove her on. The roaring, gurgling crash of those flame-jetting tubes; the thick black smoke expelled from the brass spikes at its bow; and the world shaking power of its proximity was probably scaring Fluttershy and her animals half to death. Rainbow was risking her hide staying outside with the ship in sight, but there was no way she was leaving poor, gentle Fluttershy alone.
Be it blind luck or fate, Rainbow touched down outside her fellow pegasi’s cottage without incident. She winced from walking on her sprained leg, but it was already becoming bearable. “Fluttershy! We gotta go!” she bellowed over the cacophony, banging on the cottage door. “Uh, hurry!” she added when no one answered. “Okay! If you’re not coming out, I’m comin’ in!” She propped herself forward, preparing to buck the door, when somepony screamed her name. Nerves and surprise sent Rainbow forward onto her face, looking wildly around for the source of the voice. “Who’s there?!” she asked apprehensively, standing up properly.
“H-h-h-ey-y-y R-r-a-a-i-n-n-n-b-o-o-w!” a jittery version of Pinkie Pie’s voice rang out. Turning her head in the direction of Ponyville, Rainbow relaxed slightly as Twilight and Pinkie came galloping up the road. Well, Twilight was galloping. Pinkie was allowing the shaking ground to carry her along, hence the bouncy voice. She eyed Pinkie concernedly as she always did when the pink pony acted so nonchalant, but was interrupted before Pinkie could see her.
“Are you trying to get Fluttershy?!” Twilight asked over the tumult.
“Yeah!” Rainbow replied, “but she won’t answer!” Pinkie opened her mouth to add something, but was cut across by a bubbly hissing from the ship, still visible over Ponyville. More brass tubes extended from hidden planks on its underside, but instead of belching smoke, endless streams of cloud came pouring out. They accumulated beneath the vessel rapidly; coagulating into a single, square-shaped mass. Once the cloud had been fully deposited, the ship’s gushing flames gradually shrank into nothingness, and it gently settled atop the cloud. All of the dissonance it had brought with it ceased, and should a stranger be arriving in Ponyville, its presence might as well be nothing but normal.
“No…way…” Rainbow could not help but saying in inspired awe. “That…is…totally…AWESOME!”
“I want one!” Pinkie piped in cheerily. “Imagine how much confetti and cotton candy I could stuff in those tubes!”
“No girls,” Twilight said seriously. “That is neither awesome nor fun.”
“Come on Twilight,” Rainbow said, exasperated. “The mare on board is definitely a threat to Equestria, but you’ve got to admit…that cloud thing is so cool!”
“I don’t have to admit anything. If you would just…wait, did you say there’s a mare on board that’s a threat to Equestria?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow said, though now with less urgency. The ship had quieted after all. “She’s some allicorn with a power trip problem. Dunno who she is or why she’s got such an attitude, but that boat is the definition of sweet.”
“For the final time,” Twilight said, beginning to become aggravated, “the fact that that invention spewed cloud is not a good sign. It’s one thing to capture clouds, but it’s a whole other thing to imbue something that big with Pegasus magic.”
“What’re you talkin’ about?” Rainbow asked in disbelief. “Pegasi don’t have any magic.” Twilight turned to face Rainbow directly, her face heavy with her signature “You should know what I’m talking about” look. “What?” Rainbow shrugged, honestly just not understanding Twilight’s jibber jabber.
“How do you think a Pegasus stands on clouds?” Twilight asked dryly.
“Oh, that’s what you mean,” Rainbow replied, now less confused, but still not overly alarmed. She had thought the shaking and disorder the vessel had been causing was purposeful, but it was clear those effects were only byproducts of its normal operation.
“Ooh! Ooh!” Pinkie suddenly exclaimed, darting over to Fluttershy’s door. Said door was open and Fluttershy, still shaking slightly and eyes warily watching the sky, came out leading her plethora of animals.
“Is it over?” she asked fearfully.
“No, Fluttershy, it is by no means over,” Twilight said seriously, prompting a solid knock on her head from Rainbow. “What I mean is...” Twilight corrected herself sheepishly, “the shaking is over, but the vessel that caused it is still here.”
“Where is it?” Fluttershy asked tentatively. “Can you see it?”
“Yeah!” Pinkie said, almost eagerly. “It’s sitting on its own cloud over Ponyville.” The three others split, allowing Fluttershy to peer into the distance.
“Oh my,” Fluttershy said immediately. “It seems so cold on the outside. What is it?”
“No clue,” Rainbow inserted promptly, “but no pony with any sense should go near it. My wings wouldn’t work around it.”
“Tell me more about it Rainbow Dash,” Twilight ordered. “If we’re going to send a warning to Princess Celestia, we need to be as detailed as possible.”
“Um, well,” Rainbow began, “there were my wings, which didn’t work, and even when they did, I wasn’t able to fly as fast as normal.”
“And the mare?” Twilight asked.
“Do I look like a camera to you?” Rainbow shot back. “I was too worried about escaping at the time to care.”
“I mean did she use any magic?!” Twilight said, raising her voice.
“You should’ve said so!” Rainbow replied, becoming more boisterous as well.
“Well…!?” Twilight pressed.
“Fluttershy says BE QUIET!” Pinkie exploded before the argument could continue further. Both ponies turned in surprise to Fluttershy, who looked away mildly.
“I was just saying,” she spoke softly, “that if it really is a threat, arguing won’t get us anywhere.” Rainbow and Twilight stared blankly at her for a few moments, but Dash eventually spoke up.
“You’re right Fluttershy,” she said. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s like I completely forgot about the threat it was. That is totally uncool…what the hay?”
“What’s wrong Rainbow Dash?” Pinkie asked, her curiosity shining through in her voice.
“No it’s just…The last time I remember doing something like that…” she trailed off, too unsure in her assumption to say anything more.
“If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Twilight said, spitting a bit from the tongue twisting, “then why hasn’t Fluttershy been affected?”
“Because only I’ve been close to that thing,” Rainbow reasoned. “You don’t seriously think he’s on board it do you? I mean, we saw it; hay, we did it ourselves.”
“But it would be rather unlike him to go at us only half-heartedly,” Twilight said, scowling in deep thought.
“Who are you talking about?” Fluttershy asked. “It’s becoming confusing.”
“Discord,” Rainbow said flatly. “Me and Twilight think he’s on that ship with whoever that mare is.”
“It’s ‘Twilight and I’ Dash,” Twilight corrected, “but we also think that he’s, for whatever reason, not as strong as he was. Only some of us have been affected, and then, even those of us who have been, it’s been minimal and sporadic.”
“That’s crazy talk,” Pinkie waved her hoof nonchalantly. “He’s a statue still. Stone doesn’t move around silly. Well, gargoyles do, but Discord isn’t a gargoyle and I don’t think…”
“Pinkie!” Rainbow shouted, unable to take her rant any longer. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re overreacting. But we can’t be sure, and even without Discord, that mare means business.”
“Let’s head back into town,” Twilight suggested. “But we need to go our separate ways. Anyone who knows about us and the Elements will be looking for us as a group. Rainbow, you come in with Fluttershy from the direction of the Everfree Forest. Pinkie, make sure you meet up with Applejack. She’ll probably come into town on the regular road, so meet her there and be sure she understands our suspicions.” Rainbow saluted stolidly, eyed Fluttershy somewhat harshly, and blasted into the skies with her timid friend following.
“Sure Twilight,” Pinkie said, attempting seriousness and failing epically. “Do want me to pick up some cupcakes for everypony?”
“Pinkie, just go find Applejack,” Twilight struggled to remain calm. “We can talk about cupcakes a little later.”
“Okay,” Pinkie replied, bouncing away toward Sweet Apple Acres.
And now you, Twilight thought to herself. Drag Rarity out of her house, find Spike, get a letter to the Princess as fast as possible, and see if we can’t figure out what that thing is. There’s got to be some precedent in some book. ______________________________________________________________________________
Ponyville could have been a ghost town. The shutters for every home were all tightly clasped to their windows, so much so that not even the wind could cause them to wiggle slightly. Twilight went slinking through these eerie facades, repeatedly glancing back at Ponyville Town Hall and the gargantuan vessel that rested over its flag pole. The craft had much greater girth up close than Twilight had ever imagined, and indeed, it was so massive, she doubted if even all the citizens of Ponyville could fill a third of its deck. Within nothing but its brooding presence, Twilight made her way to Rarity’s shop, Carousel Boutique. Like every other building in Ponyville, it too was shut up like it had been foreclosed.
Under normal circumstances, Twilight would have just gone up and knocked on the door. As things stood, even a whisper was like a shout in the new Ponyville, and Twilight was rather apprehensive about the ship’s reaction to so intrusive a sound. Oh, good Celestia, she berated herself, it’s an inanimate object. Don’t be ridiculous. Just knock on the door. And yet, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself of this, it still seemed dangerous to do much more than pad through the streets. But she had to know if Rarity was here, and the only way to determine that was to knock. C’mon Twilight, she convinced herself. You faced down Nightmare Moon, Discord, and the Changeling Army. You can knock on a door. Before her irritating gut could say otherwise, she tapped her hoof on Rarity’s door.
Even after several seconds, nothing happened. There was not even any sound from inside the Boutique to indicate whether or not Rarity was just trying to stay hidden. Disheartened, Twilight made to step down into the street again, but was forcibly yanked by the neck through the now open door onto Rarity’s show floor. She coughed slightly, but was just glad that Rarity was indeed at her home. “What in Equestria are you doing outside Twilight?” she asked, utter shock displayed in her tone. “Did you not see that horrid, ugly thing take Town Hall hostage?”
“Hey, Twilight!” came another familiar and relieved voice. “Aw, man, it’s good to know you’re okay,” Spike continued, coming up to stand beside Rarity. “I couldn’t find Rainbow Dash, and when that ship started coming down even lower; Rarity, me, and a bunch of other ponies hid here.”
“Slow down Spike,” Twilight reassured him. “Rainbow Dash is fine. So are Pinkie and Fluttershy. Applejack should be okay too, but Pinkie’s on her way to Sweet Apple Acres just to be sure. What about all the other ponies? Where are they?”
“Upstairs,” Rarity answered as Spike sighed in relief. “It’s been a nightmare trying to keep them organized and away from all of my things.”
Twilight half-heartedly suppressed rolling her eyes, and asked, “What did you mean when you said Town Hall had been taken hostage?” Rarity’s mouth dropped open slightly and her eyes narrowed concernedly at this apparently ridiculous question.
“Um, Twilight,” Spike said, his voice colored with the same confusion on Rarity’s face, “you can see that ship outside right?”
“Oh, I thought somepony had come off the ship,” Twilight realized.
“No dear,” Rarity said, “not a single pony or otherwise has come or gone from that hulk of unrefined junk. It’s strange, don’t you think?”
“I’m not sure,” Twilight replied, “but the only way we’re going to find out is by taking a closer look. You guys are with me right?”
“Count me in!” Spike said fiercely. “Anypony who thinks they can get away with terrorizing Ponyville has another thing comin’.”
“You’ve been hanging around with Rainbow Dash too much Spike,” Rarity said. “I’m not sure Twilight. Don’t you think we should go more cautiously? Form a plan of sorts first?”
“Rarity,” Twilight said sarcastically, “when has a plan ever proven useful? Besides, that thing is so big, I doubt even the most skilled pony could get close without being noticed.”
“Are you suggesting we get caught?!” Rarity asked in horror.
“Yes,” Twilight replied blankly. “At least if we don’t look like we’re spying, we can’t be accused of doing it.”
“I follow,” Spike agreed, then in a quieter voice, “though I’m not sure whether that’s a good sign or not.”
“What should I tell the ponies here still?” Rarity asked. Twilight grimaced. Not many ponies aside from Celestia and her trusted advisors knew Twilight and her friends were the wielders of the Elements of Harmony. It would be difficult to convince them to stay without revealing their affiliations. “Twilight?” Rarity queried again.
“How many are there?” Twilight asked stolidly.
“Only five,” Spike said. “Why does that matter?”
“We’re leaving now,” Twilight said weightily. “Don’t tell them anything, and be as quiet as you can. The less they know the better.”
“But…my things…” Rarity nearly pleaded.
“Rarity,” Twilight said forcefully, “We’re leaving.” Her rather materialistic friend hung her head in mild depression, but followed them out nonetheless. Twilight searched the streets apprehensively before leading her two fellows toward Ponyville Square. As they walked, Twilight began to feel that the eerie desertedness all around them was not the way it seemed. The houses were all shut up, true, but they were less than lifeless, as if no pony, hiding or not, resided in them.
“Where is everypony?” Spike asked, bewildered by the atmosphere and voicing Twilight’s thoughts.
“They’re hiding dear,” Rarity said, “much like we should be.”
“No, I think Spike’s feeling it too,” Twilight said, curiosity aroused. “Nopony is in their house. They’re not hiding.”
“Well if they’re not here,” Rarity asked, interested despite herself, “where are they?”
Twilight was about to voice her suspicions, but when they rounded the corner into Ponyville Square, all that escaped her mouth was, “Oh no.” When they had come into the Square—shops and houses darkened by the ship’s cloud—Twilight had expected to find nopony; not most everypony crowded beneath the ship’s shadow, gazing raptly up at a break in the cloud.
“What are they doi…mph!” Rarity nearly shouted before Twilight hastily shoved a hoof into her mouth. An allicorn mare was speaking from the break in the cloud. The source of the gap was a litter of sorts, suspended rather than supported. Four tightly wound—and consequently thin—steel cables extended down from the vessel. They were attached to the tops of the four poles supporting the litter’s shade. This shade was in the shape of a flowing square pyramid. It was colored in a deep hue of navy blue, like the night sky, but the edges of each facet were colored by ethereal, jagged marks of luminescent green and pink.
It was the first sign of color Twilight had seen in the invading vessel, but it gave her no hope as it normally would have. She was not exactly sure what it was about the shade, be it the colors, shape, their arrangement, or a combination of the three, but she could feel vicious purpose and significance emanating from it. As horrible as the sensation was, it also brought a level of relief. Discord’s only drive was to cause chaos. There was nothing in the chaos itself. It generated more questions than answers, but undoubtedly the allicorn mare standing on the litter platform of brass and wood had every answer.
She was an imposing and regal figure, Twilight had to admit. Her coat was the same deep blue as Princess Luna’s and the shade above her, and her eyes were a sharp, but pale pink. Her mane was an uncommon light violet with green lines down its length, and she had combed it onto one side of her face. It fell down below her shoulder, but was uneven and a bit unkempt at the edges. Her tail was of the same pattern, but had been much better groomed. Its whole length was smoothly flowing, though not as long as that of Princess Luna or Celestia. As for her general size, Twilight guessed her to be around Cadence’s height.
“And I have returned, for nothing but knowledge and a desire to spread that knowledge,” she was saying. Twilight, Spike, and Rarity all started. Her voice was much lighter and sweeter than they had imagined, and amazingly, there was nothing fake in it. “I apologize for any fear my preferred mode of arrival may have caused, but I assure you my experiments will more than make it up to you.”
“Oh yeah!” screamed out the unmistakable challenging voice of Rainbow Dash. “Do those experiments involve stealing a pegasus’s wings?!”
“Well subtlety just went out the window,” Rarity whispered cynically before the assembly of ponies burst into confused and accusatory shouts.
“I told you before,” the mare answered Rainbow, wherever she was, “if you are going to do something, take the effort to do it properly. I have no desire to engage with a ruffian such as yourself in a debate you will refuse to lose, even when I have clearly won.”
“Rainbow Dash’s no ruffian!” Applejack’s signature accent rang out. “Who’d ya thank ya’r, talkin’ like that?!” Applejack’s comment was well met by the citizens of Ponyville, but Twilight was still dumbstruck by the mare’s language. Behind her pleasant voice, was an arrogant, snarky tone that seemed completely justified. There was an authority there that Twilight, having lived around Princess Celestia for many years, could identify, and that her friends could not. This mare had power, knew it, and was unafraid to show it. Even if her resolve rebelled against it, in that moment, Twilight Sparkle became scared for the survival of Ponyville and Equestria.
Why does that one have to be so obnoxious, Aurora Streak thought angrily. She has no right; unless of course my assumptions are correct. That raises more questions about the state of this sad kingdom, but still… She gazed around at all the ponies, now becoming more and more riled as another spoke out in defense of the unpleasant one with the rainbow mane. It was in these situations that Aurora chose to ignore the babbling masses. They could make little sense even to themselves, so why should she even attempt to interpret anything from them. Instead, her searching eyes swept the crowd, attempting to catch anypony moving or speaking out of the ordinary. In a town as heavily populated as Ponyville, she had expected this to take at least a few minutes, not less than five seconds. Near the back of the gathering, a light violet unicorn with a deeper purple mane stood; staring intensely up at her. In any other situation, Aurora would have taken no mind of it. In her life, she had had more than a fair share of scowls directed her way. But not only was this pony showing her deep displeasure at Aurora’s words and arrival, she was also attempting to discern everything she could about Aurora. She has the eyes of a rather intelligent pony, Aurora pondered, not looking back directly, but allowing herself quick glances. Even if she despises me now, she may indeed be the catalyst for acceptance I need.
“All of you!” Aurora raised her voice over the clamor, something she rarely did and actually disliked doing. Most everypony quieted, a few whispers lingering. Returning to her normal tone, Aurora said, “Rumors are but tales of nonsense until they are proven true or otherwise. Since my word alone would not convince you, I offer you a compromise.” She paused, not for dramatic effect—though it would likely have that impact—but to begin charging a normal spell; difficult for her under the best of circumstances. Only when she heard the gasps of all of the ponies below did she open her eyes, assured that her horn was indeed prepared. “At noon tomorrow, a pony of my choosing will be invited aboard the House of a Thousand Fangs to receive a glimpse of what I can offer.” The citizens of Ponyville glanced warily around at one another, clearly hoping they were not chosen as representative. “I expect to see her!” Aurora boldly stated, firing her small glow spell at the violet unicorn.
The square exploded with shouts of confusion, shock, and complete outrage. It was bound to be unpleasant, and Aurora was in no mood—nor did she have the time—to witness it. A simple tap of her hoof against a hidden pedal in the floor of the litter, and the entire contraption ascended into the dark bowels of her creation. Only just before she was completely enshrouded in darkness did the ponies notice her departure. Luckily, she was sealed inside her haven before their incessantly dissident voices reached her. “Hmph, civility is alive and well,” she said to the darkness, sarcastically cheery and dropping her formal and artificial air.
“Since when has Celestia’s kingdom been full of civility,” the darkness replied. “Even the Canterlot high-society have less decency than these.”
“Too right you are,” Aurora said. “But my research almost requires that they be that way.”
“My ancestors were not like them,” the darkness spat. “They genuinely desired the change you promised.”
“I am sick of speaking to you in this blackness,” Aurora said irritably. “Have the Lighting Devices faltered again?” The darkness before her did not respond, and Aurora could feel its disapproval of her diversion. “I have explained it all to you before,” Aurora snapped sharply, “and I will not repeat myself for your own emotional benefit. If you are so insecure, you may leave and enter the town below at your leisure.” The darkness did not reply once again, but the change in the atmosphere was enough to convince her that she had won. “Now, if you don’t mind, please send my recorder to the Device Room. We have notes and repairs to make.” While Aurora struggled with a light spell, the clattering hooves of her darkness-hidden companion moved away in the opposite direction. “Oh, and Chrysalis,” she added as an afterthought, “I need my current lab sealed off with a spell of disguise.” ______________________________________________________________________________
It occurred to Rainbow Dash that however much she loved Ponyville and all of her friends, she absolutely despised Town meetings. To her, it was as clear as a cloudless sky that they—under no circumstances—should allow Twilight to go aboard that crazy mare’s boat. Yet here everypony was, gathered within Town Hall before the mayor, only discussing how they could help Twilight; not that they should do everything they could to keep her from being taken aboard. “Come! On!” Rainbow finally exploded with impatience as she hovered laboriously within the power of the ship. “I’m not going to let Twilight on that piece of junk! You shouldn’t either!”
“Maybe we can convince the mare to take somepony else,” Fluttershy meekly suggested, audible only because Rainbow’s shout had silenced the rest of the ponies.
“Thank you! Wait....What!?” Rainbow initially agreed, then spun around to face her friend. “We shouldn’t send anypony up there! I’ll say it again, THAT... SHIP... STEALS… YOUR.... WINGS!”
“Why don’ we ask Twilight what she thinks,” Applejack inserted. “She’s the one that’s been summoned anywho.”
“Who cares what she thinks!” Rainbow argued. “I’m not lettin’ any of my friends go on that thing!”
“I reckon Twilight c’n take care of herself,” Applejack replied. “Ya need to stop bein’ so protective Dash.”
“Rainbow Dash,” Twilght spoke up, calm and confident. Rainbow whipped her head around to look down upon Twilight. “I think you, me, and every other pony are equally scared of that mare.” Rainbow did not consent to this truth, but many of the assembled ponies did with mumbles and nodding heads. “But even if we are afraid, we must know more about her. That can only be done if someone goes on board her vessel. Trust me.”
“Don’t get me wrong Twilight,” Rainbow replied, “I trust you, it’s just... nopony seems to care that you even have to go up there in the first place.”
Before Twilight or any other pony could answer her, Spike burst into Town Hall, delightfully bellowing, “Twilight! Princess Celestia! She sent back a letter!” Everypony cheered wildly, and even Rainbow could not help air-hooving. Princess Celestia would not only know how to deal with this stuck-up allicorn, she would know who exactly she was.
“Hurry Twilight!” Pinkie bounced excitedly. “Open it and read it!” Twilight’s magic levitated the letter, broke the seal, and unrolled the crackly parchment. Rainbow could feel the tension in the air as everypony waited for Twilight to begin.
“Well whatsit say sugar cube?” Applejack asked.
“Yeah, what did Celestia say to do?” Pinkie added.
“I-I-I don-n’t know,” Twilight stumbled in pure disbelief. “The ink is all smudged out.” Rainbow and several other ponies turned significant glares to Spike.
“Hey,” he held up his hands in innocence, “I didn’t open the seal. Twilight can back me on that one.”
“Celestia has never had a sick scribe has she?” Rairty asked in concern. “The princess has five scribes I think,” Twilight replied, now even more perplexed. “And even if they were sick, the princess could always write the letters herself.”
“Somethin’ else is goin’ on,” Rainbow said darkly. “And I can guess who...” She rocketed out of Town Hall, fast even with the detrimental effects of the ship above. The sight that greeted her was enough to halt her into hovering again. She gazed with an open mouth as four beams of ethereal pink magic surged with a faintly sinister whistling from four large, brass, hole-riddled spikes. Each spike had extended out of yet another hidden panel in the ship’s hull, pointing in each direction of the compass. But it was not the spikes that drew Rainbow’s attention. That was focused on the expanding field that—within only a few more seconds—completely encased Ponyville like a picturesque town within a snow globe.
“Rainbow?!” Rarity and Twilight shouted upon initially making their way outside, but they too were silenced at the sight before them.
“If Celestia’s letters can’t make it in...” Twilight trailed off.
“I take it back Twilight,” Rainbow said, regaining not only her senses, but her fighting spirit. “We have to solve this problem ourselves. And we can do it too.” Twilight remained quiet, but as more and more ponies began filtering out into their now pink-hued town, Rainbow made her decision. “Okay everypony!” she shouted out. Coming lower and adding in a whisper, “Help me out here Twilight.”
“With what?” Twilight hissed back.
“Um... organization, duh,” Rainbow explained. Twilight frowned in confusion, but Dash could waste no more time. “Alright! Clearly, help can’t get in, and it’s probably true that we can’t get out! Twilight’s gonna do her part by going up on that ship, but we need to support her down here. So! Pinkie and Applejack, you take some ponies and see what this bubble is made of!”
“Bubble gum!” Pinkie replied, to the general half-amusement of all present.
“Fluttershy!” Rainbow switched intensely.
“yes...” she answered, looking timidly around at the other pegasi.
“You and me are gonna take all the pegasi and give hay to that ship!” Rainbow declared triumphantly. All of the other pegasi called out raucously in agreement with this plan.
“Rarity!” Rainbow turned to her lastly. “Help Twilight arrange all of the groups between those that can and can’t.”
“Oh, I can do it myself, don’t worry,” Rarity replied good-naturedly. “Just give me a moment and I’ll be right back to help. And you dear,” she said to Twilight, “you go get yourself whatever you need from the library.”
“And if there’s anythang ya need from the rest of us,” Applejack said, “jus’ holler.”
“I’ve got plenty of cupcakes if you want to take some with you,” Pinkie said, then sidling up conspiratorially to Twilight added, “maybe you can catch her off guard by giving her some.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Oh, if only I could Pinkie, if only I could, Twilight sighed to herself as she sidled, head hung, back to the library. She had put on a brave, energetic face for the sake of her friends, and truthfully, everypony in her town. But it was the farthest from her current state of mind she had ever been. She reflected that under normal circumstances, she would be rushing around, trying to find the all the answers she could about the mysterious mare; before venturing into what was most likely a fortress. But she had little to no energy left to even lift her head. The feeling was one of extreme fatigue, but not of the physical kind. She felt like she had spent three whole days doing nothing but practicing extremely difficult magic. She could not even open her own door she was so drained. “Man Twilight,” Spike said, not sure whether to be shocked or perplexed or both. “I’ve never seen you like this. I mean, even when you stay up late, you’re usually full of energy.”
“Tell me about it,” she replied, falling heavily onto a reading couch she had recently brought to the library for sit-in reading. “The only time I remember feeling like this was the night after I...” she trailed off. “Spike,” she said, curiosity sparking in her voice, “get me that book, um, Dangers of Magic and How to Avoid Them.”
“Why do you want that old thing?” Spike asked, though he obeyed and climbed a ladder for the taller shelves. “Only really advanced users use it as a guide. I mean, don’t get me wrong Twilight, you’re good, but not this good.”
“I know I’m not,” she said, motioning for Spike to thumb through it for her. “But what if I was? I need to know what the first symptom of overuse is.”
“Symptoms—symptoms—symptoms...” Spike mumbled, brushing within the table of contents. “Aha!” he exclaimed, pointing a single talon on an entry. “Page 145.” The books pages fluttered as Spike sped through them, finally arriving on the desired chapter. Clearing his throat, Spike began reading formally, “Magic is an incredibly useful art, and one that all unicorns and allicorns ought to devote time and energy to mastering. Such proofs of this have already been cited in previous chapters. However, as useful a tool as magic is, like any other endeavor, it comes with risks. Perhaps it contains even more risks than other forms of exertion.” Spike caught a decent breath before continuing, “When a user of magic practices for extended periods, or operates increasingly difficult feats, he or she becomes drained of strength. This is the first symptom of overuse, and should be viewed with extreme caution, as many other unpredictable consequences could follow.” Twilight kept her eyes narrowed as Spike turned significantly to her. “But you haven’t done a lot of magic lately.”
“No I haven’t Spike,” Twilight replied, “but that mare most certainly has.” She rose off the couch and strode up to her loft.
“I don’t get it,” Spike said innocently.
“Princess Celestia once told me of a very powerful branch of magic. For the life of me, I can’t remember what it was she called it, but all I remember is swearing to never look into it except with her express permission,” Twilight explained gravely as she gathered four books into her bags. “Obviously, the princess didn’t go into details, but she did mention unicorn powers.”
“Okay, now I’m even more confused,” Spike said, beginning to sound impatient. “No duh, unicorns have powers. Why would magicians need to study that?”
“Well, that’s what I thought when I was little, and since the princess never mentioned it again, I didn’t find it even worth considering. Only now, I think the princess’s explanation was purposefully vague,” Twilight said, coming back down and perusing more books. “I think the branch deals not just with unicorns, but why unicorns, allicorns, and pegasi have particular powers, and how to manipulate that directly. If I’m right, that would explain why I feel so... wait a minute.”
“Urgh! I hate it when you do that!” Spike raged at her. She paid him no mind, as her theory was already crumbling into pieces.
“Why am I the only one that feels at rock bottom?” she asked the air. “If I were right, the other unicorns, even the pegasi, would feel like me.” She screwed up her face in concentration, attempting to remember if there were any books that ever mentioned natural magic, even if only in passing. There were none. “Oh gosh,” she collapsed, her initial burst of reserve energy completely spent. “Spike,” she said wearily, “I think I’ll take Pinkie up on that cupcake offer. Even if I’m wrong, I really don’t want to feel like this tomorrow. If I’m going to tour that ship, I’ll need all the sugar I can get.”
“Sure thing Twilight,” Spike said. “Hey, ya never know, maybe Pinkie Pie’s strategy will work. Cupcakes soften anypony up.”
“Thanks Spike,” Twilight chuckled weakly.
“Before I go,” Spike asked, “do you want me to try to reach Princess Celestia again?”
“You can try,” Twilight replied, now fading rapidly. “But I doubt it’ll...” Blessed sleep took her, and she hoped she would be ready to do her duty to Ponyville when she woke. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Wake up Twilight!” somepony was hollering earnestly. “We need yar help!”
“Applejack!” Twilight started, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide. “Fwew,” she sighed, “how long have I been asleep Applejack?”
“I dunno,” Applejack said impatiently, “but you’d better have yar energy back. Pinkie touched it.”
“Huh, ugh, slow down,” Twilight groaned, rubbing her eyes with both hooves. “What now? And really, what time is it?”
“Just past supper time,” Spike said dryly. “I had to go over to Rarity’s to eat.”
“Oh gosh! I’m so sorry! Why didn’t somepony wake me sooner?” Twilight burst out. “Nobody should have gone without my help just because I was asleep.”
“Don’ worry sugar cube,” Applejack said kindly, but swiftly. “Rainbow and all tha other pegasi are having one hay of a time with that ship, and unt’l jus’ now, everpony else was doin’ jus’ fine.”
“Okay,” Twilight said, not sure whether to be hurt or gratified that her friends were all competent without her help. “What’s wrong now then?” she asked, pushing the thought aside as selfish.
“Pinkie Pie,” Spike shivered in fear. “She’s completely lost it.”
“Ya remembar tha’ time in Discord’s maze?” Applejack elaborated. Twilight nodded her head, though apprehensive about where the conversation was headed. “Well, I wouldn’ be lyin’ if I said she’s actin’ a li’l like that now.”
“But I thought only Discord could disrupt the Elements of Harmony?!” Twilight said in disbelief. “And we’ve already ruled him out of this! And you said it happened right after she touched the globe?”
“Ee-yup,” Applejack said. “Wildes’ thang I ever saw. She lost color, an’ everypony could tell somethin’ wann’t right.”
“Where is she now?” Twilight asked, now moving hurriedly throughout the library, looking for all the notes Princess Celestia had sent her on Discord after the ‘incident’ with him.
“In Sugar Cube Corner,” Applejack replied. “She’s scared the geewillikers out o’ tha Cakes. They’ve left.”
“Okay, then,” Twilight said determinedly, acquiring the notes and stashing them in her bags. “Spike, you’re my eyes while we walk. I need to read these notes as we go.”
“Oh joy,” Spike mumbled, motioning for Applejack to come along as he opened the door for Twilight, who was now engrossed in the first page. Even with Spike ungraciously poking her whenever a turn was necessary, Twilight was able to absorb a good amount on the villainous Discord. Much of the notes dealt with his first appearances, his initial political stands, his fights with unicorns and allicorns in power, and his eventual imprisonment. Finally, there was a brief section dealing exclusively with his magical talents. Several of these fields Twilight knew of; others, only by name; and still others she had never even read about.
A reference was made to the Elements of Harmony, which was what Twilight was after; but to her displeasure, nothing was said other than, “Discord, while vulnerable to the Elements when combined, had incredible skill in countering each on an individual basis.” No, really, Twilight thought cynically, stuffing the notes away as they neared the Cake’s house and shop.
“Um girls,” came Pinkie’s voice, shaking like she had just overcome a fever. “I’m okay. No, really, I’m okay.” Applejack and Spike had stopped short, unsure, but Twilight could see Pinkie was only shaken. She was still the same pony Twilight knew: cotton candy mane and tail, hyperactive posture, and bright eyes. Only, her eyes themselves were heavily lidded. “That was funky,” she said, shaking her head to clear it of some unknown confusion. “Who knew bubblegum could do that to a pony?!”
“Pinkie,” Twilight said sympathetically, “it’s okay. You can tell me what happened.”
“Well that’s just it Twilight,” Pinkie said, her eyes slowly opening to their normal size. “I don’t remember anything. Isn’t that hilarious?! I’ve gotten amnesia! Who would’ve thought that would ever happen!” She frowned seriously for a moment in an exaggerated attempt to locate a memory, but could not hold it and burst into rolling laughter.
“She seems okay to me,” Twilight said awkwardly to Spike and Applejack as she came off the landing. “Are you sure about what happened?”
“Twi, I ain’t one to lie. Period. But I wouldn’t ever lie about somethin’ like this,” Applejack stalwartly defended herself.
“Honest Twilight,” Spike added. “It takes a lot to freak me out.”
“Maybe it was only a temporary effect caused when she touched the field,” Twilight mused aloud. “That definitely seems to be the case. At least we can still rule out Discord as the source of a lot of this magic.”
“I’d hate to see what tha’ bubble’d do to a normal ol’ pony,” Applejack said. “Us Elements ‘re sure to be tougher ‘gainst that sort o’ thing.”
“Here’s to a hope,” Twilight said. She turned her head back in the direction of the library, intent on doing as much research on fringe magic as she could before noon tomorrow. However, she was distracted by Town Square. There was, of course, still the obtrusive ship above it; but above even it, was a massive storm cloud. “How did they manage to do that if they can’t fly over the ship?” Twilight asked, impressed.
“No idear,” Applejack said, equally proud of the pegasi. “But apparently somethin’ downright googfy’s goin’ on over thar. Them pegasi keep laughin’ themselves silly at somethin’.”
“C’mon guys!” Pinkie bounded past them. “If they’re laughing, they must be having fun!”
“I could use a laugh,” Spike said, climbing atop Twilight. Applejack trotted after Pinkie, but Twilight hesitated. “You okay Twilight?” Spike asked.
“Right now I am,” she replied. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get so close to it after what happened a few hours ago.”
“But you recovered just fine,” Spike insisted. “It can’t be all that bad then.”
“Princess Celestia always said that if you know something is not good for you, avoid it at all costs,” Twilight quoted. “I can’t avoid tomorrow, but I just don’t think it’s smart to go over there now.”
“You know Twilight,” Spike huffed, “you’re a real kill-joy sometimes.”
“No, I’m only being smart and practical,” Twilight said, turning her hooves in the direction of the library.
“Fine, you can go be a know-it-all and annoying,” Spike said, slipping off her back and walking toward Town Hall. “I’m going to enjoy myself.” Twilight cast him an irritated glare before picking up her pace, necessity driving her to more in-depth study. ______________________________________________________________________________
Truly, Rainbow Dash had never thought her day job as a weather pony would prove so useful and even enjoyable. With great enthusiasm, she and the other pegasi had gathered as many clouds they could find still within the dome. This was in fact a considerable amount, as the mounding storm cloud was still building. They could, of course, not fly directly over the ship to place the clouds. The pegasi magic failed, destroying their ability to fly as well as their ability to stand on clouds. But the same ingenuity that brainstormed the wackiest of tricks, also gave Rainbow the most brilliant schemes. With some not-so-gentle bucking, the pegasi could send the clouds careening through the air, eventually settling over the ship. And—by keeping a few clouds in reserve—they could all hurl cloud balls into the colossal mass to disturb it into storming. It was certainly not the prettiest thing in the Equestrian skies (obviously that was Rainbow herself), but it more than got the job done.
Squinting in concentration as she rolled a piece of cloud into a more aerodynamic shape, Rainbow picked out her next target. She had been trying several spots in the thunderhead that might cause a lightning strike, but none had worked so far. “What about that spot there?” Airheart, a petite pink pegasus with a hazel mane and tail, asked. “You see,” she pointed unhelpfully, “the spot where those three big ones meet.”
“No, Airheart,” Rainbow replied blankly. “That’s a no-go. I’m makin’ this decision with my gut. HA!” She had found the perfect place near the top of the mound. She spit in the ball for good luck, tossed it in the air for show, and finally wound back before launching it into the mass. The impact bent the unstable top of the thunderhead, but it settled back into place rather quickly without so much as an inkling of activity. Rainbow scowled heavily and crossed her forelegs. “SERIOUSLY!” she exploded when she could no longer hold in her displeasure.
“I don’t think it’s so bad Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said hushedly, making her way to her friend and Airheart. “Nopony has been able to make it do anything.”
“It was a good idea though,” Airheart chimed in, trying to help Fluttershy.
“Oh shut up,” Rainbow replied, frustrated. “It’s not a good idea unless it actually works. I mean, really, how many ‘good ideas’ has Twilight had that have blown up in her face. Literally.”
“Oh, I’m not sure Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said. “Just because her experiments are messy doesn’t mean they are bad ideas. Some of her medicines are wonderful for my animals.”
“For Pete’s sake,” Rainbow muttered. “Get a move on!” she screamed at the manufactured thunderhead, kicking a large portion of her ammo cloud into the mass. Again, it refused to do anything.
“And it’s pretty dark too...” Airheart said, absently concerned. “I thought it was full of rain.”
“It is,” Rainbow grumbled, analyzing the makeup of the cloud once again. “It’s just being stubborn.”
“May I try, Rainbow Dash?” Fluttershy asked tentatively. “You are just trying to make it rain right?”
“Yes, Fluttershy,” Rainbow said, preoccupied with dissecting her extremely flank-headed thundercloud. “We aren’t making any headway regardless.”
“Okay,” Fluttershy said, tearing away a sloppy chunk of cloud. Rainbow rolled her eyes in disbelief. Fluttershy glanced nervously back and forth between her target and the cloud in her hoof, prompting Rainbow to sigh rather loudly.
“Hey, at least she’s trying,” Airheart hissed at Rainbow. “I normally wouldn’t have expected to see her up here after the cloud had been finished.”
“Point taken,” Rainbow admitted grudgingly. “Help me out here though why don’t you?” Airheart and Rainbow were still discussing what areas of the cloud seemed most volatile when a squeaking yell emanated from behind them. In a few moments, a slowly rotating, barely moving piece of chunky gray cloud passed right between their noses. Rainbow Dash was on the verge of heartfelt criticism, but Airheart cut her off with a quick jab in the ribs. In these moments, Fluttershy’s weakly thrown puff alighted gently upon the greater mound. “Fluttershy!” Rainbow turned to her angrily. “I understand that you want to help, but if you’re going to throw somethin—!” Rainbow screamed in fright as the thunderhead unleashed a cacophony of lightning bolts and gallons of rainwater. All of the other pegasus ponies came rushing over to congratulate Fluttershy, but Rainbow could only look on with injured pride. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said to herself, inaudible under the cheering of the other pegasi and the crashing of the storm cloud.
“Come on everypony!” Airheart announced triumphantly. “Now that she’s a’pouring, make the most of it.” Each pegasus nodded mischievously, grabbing themselves each a ball of cloud, and on Airheart’s signal, pelted the thunderhead with them. The resulting boom of thunder and outpouring of rain was tremendous, shaking the very bodies of the ponies all around. Rainbow, however bitter, was not about to waste this chance to show that allicorn who was boss in Ponyville; and promptly lined up four cloud balls on her own personal platform, bucking them with all her pent up anger. They smashed like exploding pies into the main cloud, eliciting four downward lightning strikes in a row. Several pegasi congratulated her, but Rainbow was certainly not finished now that she was in the groove.
“Juggling five!” Rainbow announced to the pleasure of her audience, as she threw up one ball after another—and after two rotations—smacked each in turn into the thunderhead. To her crowing satisfaction, five separate parts of the cloud poured out greater amounts of rain.
“You are doing great Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said, being near the front of the gathering of pegasi.
“Thanks for getting it started for me Fluttershy,” Rainbow replied, looking over Fluttershy’s showing her up in light of her current achievements.
“But could you please stop,” Fluttershy continued as if she had never been interrupted.
“What?!” Rainbow asked passionately. “Are you crazy!? I’ve just gotten started!”
“Well, it’s just... that... um.... look,” Fluttershy stammered, finally pointing her hoof down toward the ship. Any pegasus within the vicinity of Fluttershy’s voice—which was considerably few—allowed their gaze to follow Fluttershy’s hoof down to the deck of the vessel. The heavy rain and flashing bolts of lightning made it somewhat difficult to see the specifics, but Rainbow Dash spotted her immediately. The allicorn mare was upon the deck, drenched and shivering; and her eyes closed tightly in concentration. Her horn wavered in its glow, pulsating with weak and unstable power. Rainbow had seen the same thing happen with Twilight, but only for one reason. The moment the realization came, Rainbow burst in raucous laughter. She leaned back, and every time she would look back down at the struggling mare, her giggles would resume with even greater enthusiasm. It took a few moments for the other pegasi to catch on, but once they did, the whole sky around the ship was filled with peals of ridiculing laughs.
“Oh gosh,” Rainbow breathed out, attempting to regain her composure. “She’s awful. Ha ha ha!”
“I don’t think it’s funny,” Fluttershy said sympathetically, watching as the mare’s attempt at magic failed again. This time, the failed spell attracted a mild electric discharge from the thunderhead, eliciting a light squeak from her as the bolt zapped her horn. “It must terrible to be unable to do anything.”
“Stop being so caring for once Fluttershy,” Rainbow chided her, holding in a smirk as the mare once again tried to use her spell. “She shouldn’t be prancing around like she’s Celestia if she can’t back it up. Like me.”
“But it must still be horrible...” Fluttershy did not relent. “She must feel awful when she can’t use her magic like she wants to. Ooh. Look.” Fluttershy’s bid at an exclamation, even if it failed epically, did turn enough heads to quiet the laughter. The allicorn was succeeding, her spell fired and crawling toward the cloud. It never made it. The spell fizzled out into an ethereal wisp like fog before the sun, and Rainbow had never been more amused by failure. She joined in with the gathering mirth once again, but Fluttershy’s words slowly, irritatingly, began worming their way into her brain. Flashbacks of the Young Fliers Competition splashed into her mind’s eye, silencing her with a horrible weight of guilt that ought not to have been there. But she deserves it, Rainbow struggled to reason with herself. But...I …I guess I did too... Dang it Fluttershy! Why do you have to say stuff like that!
“Everypony! Stop! Everypony listen up!” Rainbow ordered, resolved within herself to be the better pony. “Okay, so maybe it’s hilarious that she can’t do simple magic. And maybe she’s evil for tryin’ to take pegasi wings. Hay, she deserves to have that storm cloud over boat! But we can’t laugh at her, or we end up being just like her.” The other pegasi were nodding at Rainbow’s words, their own feelings of regret plastered in varying degrees on their faces. Fluttershy was smiling happily and nodding her head in reassurance. “Now, I don’t know about all of you, but I’m way cooler than she is, so I’m not gonna lower my coolness factor by laughing at her,” Rainbow said proudly. All of the other pegasi let up a cheer of agreement, and Rainbow basked in the glory of their round approval.
“So why don’t we all go home now, and wait until morning to support Twilight?” Fluttershy suggested.
“Oh no!” Rainbow said fiercely. “She’s not gettin’ off that easy. I need volunteers to stay up tonight to make sure our cloud doesn’t blow up!” She raised her own hoof instantly, but was surprised by how few other ponies were willing to join her. “Fine,” she said, mildly disappointed. “Everypony else go home. The rest of us, watch that cloud.”
“See you tomorrow morning Rainbow Dash. I have to stay at Twilight’s for now,” Fluttershy said.
“See ya...” Rainbow replied absently, for she had spotted movement on the deck. The allicorn had not moved from her place, still laboriously trying to cast some sort of spell; but up from some stairwell leading into the depths of the ship, a pegasus appeared. His coloration was impossible to tell in the fading light of the sun, even augmented by the luminescent pink sphere; but he was definitely a stallion, about Rainbow and her friends’ ages. Rainbow watched, intensely curious, as he ran up to the allicorn and appeared to speak to her earnestly. She responded, inaudibly, but obviously forceful. He shrank back, but persisted until finally her previously determined energy faltered, and she allowed him to throw a towel over her back and follow her back down into the ship’s interior. He was another mystery from a vessel that seemed full of them.
For Twilight, breakfast was not usually a social affair, or any kind of significant event in her day. Food was present to be eaten; and therefore, to provide nourishment, nothing more. Twilight always considered a healthy, decently sized breakfast to be important, to be sure, but never thought of it outside of its primary purpose. Rarity on the other hand considered all gatherings in which food was involved to be of the utmost social value. Twilight respected her friend’s view, even if she found it utterly ridiculous, but had never thought she would actually appreciate it until that morning.
Out of simple courtesy, Twilight had allowed Fluttershy to have her bed. She had not intended to use it that night anyway. Her nocturnal hours had been spent buried in the oldest research documents in the Ponyville library. She had dragged out genealogy books, fringe magic research articles, and even war journals. The allicorn’s description was completely lacking in the genealogies, though many of these were collected when cutie marks were still the preferred means of identification. As neither Twilight nor any other pony had been able to see the mare’s mark, the books were even more unhelpful. The war journals were gruesome to read through; tales of hardened Guard commanders relating the horrific sights, sounds, and smells of battlefields. If they were not describing such brutality, they delved heavily into statistics and strategies; neither of which helped Twilight find a precedent to the ship’s existence. Occasionally, a Gaurdspony would mention a name of a piece of equipment, and Twilight would rush for a reference guide. This would end in a fruitless search that left her feeling rather stupid that she had not known the name to begin with. Never once was anything as large or oddly shaped as the allicorn mare’s vessel mentioned.
And finally there were the magic research articles. Even if the mare’s identity escaped her, and her ship’s construction baffled her; Twilight believed beyond a doubt that she would be able to come up with something—anything—on the current magic employed against Ponyville. The luminescent pink field cast around the town at least gave her a place to start. If Shining Armor had been with her, the search would have been marginally shorter; as a goodly portion of his job rested in managing several protective spells around Canterlot. Nevertheless, Twilight was a veteran researcher, especially when it came to magical subjects, and she had laid out three prospective books with little difficulty. Each had raised her spirits, then—with one particular qualifier—dropped them mercilessly onto the floor. Each and every book argued over how such spells were cast; what techniques could be used to alter them for whatever purpose; and how certain variations could make the spell stronger or weaker. But as much as they disagreed on these points, the three unanimously agreed that such spells had to be maintained by their original caster. They could not endure indefinitely without some kind of continual support from a caster. Twilight was both witness and practitioner of this law. Its side-effects of headaches had been the Queen Chrysalis’s inroad to her brother’s mind, and Twilight had thought it worth the renewal energy required to put up a field around the library when Scootaloo and her friends had masqueraded as the invasive reporter, Gabby Gums.
And yet, the mare’s ship seemed to fly in the face of this law. In all the time she had been in Ponyville, not one pony had seen her re-energize the invisible fields around her ship, else it would be the talk of town. And the pink sphere trapping every citizen within their home town was just as much an enigma as the invisible fields. It was certainly provided power from the four spikes protruding menacingly from the ship, but the how of that was beyond Twilight. All of her books made it very clear that first, all protective fields had to be maintained by a caster; and second, that said caster had to be a unicorn or allicorn: a being with the ability to project magical force. One field defied the first law, and the other defied the second law.
It was all a befuddled mess, and even though she was going on board the vessel that afternoon, she doubted her questions would be answered: either directly or indirectly. Her so-called tour was likely just a publicity stunt, and Twilight was meant to play along. She swore she would not. But however resolved she was to not fall into the conniving hooves of this mare, she would be able to do little of anything if she did not eat.
Rarity—being the overly fastidious pony she was—had somehow anticipated that Twilight would be sorely sleep deprived and would not have the energy to prepare herself a proper breakfast. She had consequently asked Twilight and Spike over for breakfast with her and Sweetie Bell. They had accepted without hesitation, as Rarity’s cooking was often just as tasteful and refined as her dresses.
So now, here they all were, watching Rarity at work at the stove and surrounded by the savory and sweet smells of the dishes already cooking. “Did I tell you about Scootaloo, Twilight?!” Sweetie Bell asked, poking Twilight in the shoulder. Without having realized it, she had drifted off into a doze, Sweetie Bell’s gentle prodding yanking her awake with a surprised sniff and jolt.
“Oh, um, no, I don’t think you did,” Twilight replied drearily, bashing her head with both hooves in an attempt to stay awake.
“Sweetie Bell!” Rarity chastised her little sister. “Twilight has a stressful enough day already. There is no reason for you to make it any worse than it already is.”
“But Sis,” Sweetie Bell whined, “it’s important!”
“She can go ahead and tell me, Rarity,” Twilight said. “I need to talk to stay awake.”
“You could always talk to yourself like you always do,” Spike muttered, just loud enough for Twilight and Sweetie Bell to hear. The young filly snickered, Twilight casting a glare at Spike.
“Well if it is so important,” Rarity exaggerated her tone, “why are you giggling about it. Besides, it is no laughing matter.”
“Never mind Sis,” Sweetie Bell passed off her sister, turning to Twilight. “Scootaloo and Apple Bloom thought it would be a brilliant idea to try and help with the pink bubble. I said no. I told them they weren’t thinking right, and that we should just leave it alone.”
“They didn’t listen did they,” Twilight inserted, her ears beginning to droop in fear of hearing what had befallen the over-enthusiastic Scootaloo.
“No! And it was stupid what she did!” Sweetie Bell exploded in caring rage. “Scootaloo ran right into it with her scooter!”
“Is she okay?!” Spike asked urgently, having seen the immediate effects it had had upon Pinkie Pie.
“Yes, how is she then?” Twilight seconded her dragon charge.
“The poor thing is in the hospital indefinitely,” Rarity interrupted her younger sister as she brought over the tray of breakfast goods. She deftly began levitating cups of tea, honey, maple syrup, jam, biscuits, and muffins all around to her guests, making special note to give Spike a few gems on the side. “I heard about what happened to Pinkie Pie,” Rarity continued, “and thank Celestia nothing like that happened to the little filly. She is running an awful fever, beyond what a normal illness would do; and is in considerable distress in her stomach and flank.”
“Did you say her flank hurt?” Twilight asked, intrigued.
“Yes I—oh, Twilight dear, a few drops of this potion in your tea should keep you awake—hm, what was I saying?” Rarity distracted herself.
“She asked if Scootaloo’s flank hurt,” Sweetie Bell answered beratingly.
“Oh, yes, I remember,” Rarity said, taking a bite of biscuit, “yes, it was the first thing she said happened. Both of her flanks have been in constant sharp pain since she ran into the field.”
“And we can’t even give her back her scooter to cheer her up...” Sweetie Bell said sadly. “It went right on through...”
“We’ll get it back somehow,” Twilight encouraged her confidently. “If I get on the mare’s good side, maybe she’ll bring it back inside: even if she doesn’t lower the field entirely.”
“You’d do that!?” Sweetie Bell asked excitedly.
“Of course,” Twilight said, smiling. “I’m sure a little filly’s scooter won’t mean that much to her.”
“Oooh! Thank you so much Twilight!” Sweetie Bell said, hugging her tightly. “I’ve got to go tell Scootaloo right now!” With that, she slipped herself away from the table and darted out of the boutique for the hospital.
“Thank you so much dear,” Rarity said. “It’s good to see her not fretting so much.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Twilight said. “I just hope I am able to get on the mare’s good side now.” A brief silence followed, only mitigated by Spike’s obnoxiously loud crunching of his jewels. “So you said that Scootaloo had pains in her flanks after touching the field?”
“Yes,” Rarity replied, “at least, that’s what the doctors said she told them. I have to wonder Twilight, why are you so interested in it? The girl is running a dangerously high fever. That should take priority, should it not.”
“Well, kind of,” Twilight hesitated. “But back when I still attended school in Canterlot, there was this special pony wizard that came in to talk to us that hadn’t gotten our cutie marks. I already had mine, but I remember him saying something about a phenomenon called ‘cutie pang’. It’s when a pony has sharp pains in their flank for about a day after earning their cutie mark. It’s pretty rare, but the whole concept makes me think the field may work around that phenomenon. It would explain why the scooter went right on through.”
“I’ve never heard of it,” Rarity said astounded. “But I will defer to your knowledge on the subject Twilight. Will she suffer much longer?”
“I have no idea,” Twilight sighed. “There are too many things that are odd about the situation; the two biggest being that Scootaloo doesn’t have a cutie mark and that the field isn’t the illness itself.”
“Then the best we can do is hope for a speedy recovery,” Rarity said. Twilight nodded, finishing off her share of the food and feeling much more alert than when she had arrived. Rarity’s medicine had certainly taken the edge off of her drowsiness, and it was about time she went back to the library to sort through the books she would take and those she would leave behind.
“Thanks for the breakfast and especially that potion. It’s helping already,” Twilight said, sliding away from the table and standing. “Hopefully I’ll have tons to tell you when I get back.”
“What? You mean you’re leaving?” Rarity asked, as if mildly slighted.
“Yeah, what’s gotten into you,” Spike added. “I’m not finished. This is an awesome breakfast.”
“...Um, it’s just that I want to go and get ready to leave. I still haven’t decided which books to take with me,” Twilight said awkwardly.
“Oh,” Rarity puffed, “if that’s all darling. Then let me ask you a question. Please tell me you have something special to wear.”
“Uh... no,” Twilight replied blankly.
“Surely not!” Rarity exploded with horror. “Even if that mare is nothing short of rude, you should at least present yourself properly! What were you thinking? For all we know, she could be some lost member of the Royal family!”
“Rarity,” Twilight attempted to convince her otherwise, “I seriously doubt she’s related to Princess Celestia or Princess Luna. And anyway, it’s not like it’s an invitation. She’s demanding that I come, not extending a friendly hoof. I don’t really think she’ll be looking for any sort of glamor.”
“But of course she will!” Rarity insisted, now standing from the table as well. “She will judge all of Ponyville by how our representative presents herself, so you must be adequately adorned!”
“Rarity, I’m telling you, all I need to take are some saddlebags and books, nothing more,” Twilight said, gradually growing impatient. “Thanks again for breakfast.” She made to turn for the door—and even took her first few steps—but escaping so easily was not to be.
“This simply will not do!” Rarity grandly declared in her loudest voice. “Twilight! You and I are taking a trip downstairs.”
“Really Rarity, it’s fine. I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t need anything special to wear,” Twilight was nearly pleading now.
“Don’t give me those ridiculous excuses,” Rarity replied staunchly. “If you must organize your books, send Spike to gather up your must-haves; and have him bring them here. You would do that wouldn’t you Spike?”
“ ‘Course I would!” Spike answered, jumping from his own stool, eager to please his crush.
“See,” Rarity said to Twilight.
“Okay...” Twilight relented, “but we have to be quick. If I’m late, it’ll look just as bad.”
“No worries dear,” Rarity said, urging Twilight down the stairs and into the center of the boutique floor. “I have just the thing that should suit an occasion like this.” Her voice was already somewhat muffled as she gathered up her utensils, levitating some and gripping others in her mouth.
“And what kind of occasion are you thinking this is?” Twilight asked warily.
“I would imagine it would be some form of an academic meet,” Rarity said, flinging a measuring tape around Twilight’s stock-still body. “Am I wrong?”
“No, no, that’s about right,” Twilight answered. “Spike,” she hissed at him from the corner of her mouth. “There’s a list of books at the end of my bed. Find all of the books on it, put them in my saddle bags and bring them here.”
“Sure thing,” Spike saluted, “but you might want to make sure whatever Rarity’s making you can fit them.”
“Ooh, you’re right, thanks,” Twilight whispered back as he leisurely stepped out of the shop. “Um, Rarity?” she turned to ask her friend. “Will my saddle bags still be able to fit with this outfit on?”
“Of course dear,” Rarity said, seemingly affronted. “It is an academic meet after all. I suppose it would not be if the attendees were not able to bring their books.” She retreated from view into one of three alcoves on the left wall, only faint humming and snipping sounds coming from within. She emerged a moment later—eyeing Twilight critically—then grabbed some fabric with her horn and trotted back into the recess. An even longer wait ensued, accompanied with disgruntled growling. Rarity finally returned with the back half of a dress that was more akin to a cape than anything else. It was a subtle sky blue with golden trimming, simple but flowing and incredibly elegant for it.
“Wow Rarity, it’s beautiful,” Twilight said honestly. “But how am I going to wear it? It’s not big enough to flow over my tail and go up my back.”
“That is the point,” Rarity replied, as if this were the most obvious thing about the cape. “It will attach to the remaining portion that you wear on your front by clipping to it around your stomach. Your back will remain exposed, and you will look amazing with or without your bags. Personally, I think you would look absolutely fabulous without them....” Rarity laughed uneasily as Twilight cast her a look. “...but since it is an academic meet, so... Let me go finish up the rest and you and Spike can sort out those books while you wait.” She whisked the cape away in a flurry of fabric, rolling it up neatly under her magic and taking it back to the recess.
Twilight sat heavily, breathing out some relief. If this was the most Rarity was trying to do for her, she could count herself lucky. Normally, the fashion-obsessed mare would spend hours stressing and nit-picking an outfit. Her swiftness in this instance meant quite plainly that Rarity had been planning the dress since the allicorn had announced Twilight’s summons; but for once, Twilight did not mind her friend’s frivolity. She was more than correct that the proper attire always helped make a good impression; it was just that Twilight happened to think more important things were at stake. That and she doubted the allicorn mare cared anything for dresses and such. In her first appearance to the Ponyville population, she had worn nothing. Then again, maybe Twilight’s dress would add enough sincerity to Twilight’s appearance to convince the mare to retrieve Scootaloo’s scooter, which—oddly enough—was currently Twilight’s top priority for the visit.
The simple thought of helping the injured Scootaloo made Twilight smile, the first she had had since the ship’s arrival. This good mood perpetuated through Spike’s return and their joint sorting of her books into the bags. “So,” he said once Twilight’s choice texts had been shoved into her saddle bags, “is there anything you need me to do while you’re gone?”
“That’s very nice of you Spike,” Twilight replied kindly, “but I made sure to take care of most everything in the library last night. The last thing anypony needs at this point is extra stress. You should go hang out with Pinkie while I’m gone. That ought to keep your mind off things.”
“Yeah maybe,” Spike replied, shrugging. “I just hope she doesn’t try to hold you hostage or anything.”
“She doesn’t seem like the type to do something like that,” Twilight said. “She really wants us to know what it is she can do. Maybe her motives are twisted; but if she was aggressive she wouldn’t have bothered to talk to us first”
“Then why did she trap us in town?” Spike asked pointedly.
“I think she’s scared of something out there,” Twilight replied seriously. “And she doesn’t want it coming near her, or somepony leaving and accidentally letting it slip that she’s here.”
“You think she’s scared of the Princess?” Spike asked, wide-eyed, having picked up on Twilight’s leaning.
“Yes, I know I would be if I were her,” Twilight said shortly. “But that doesn’t matter right now. What matters are things like Scootaloo and her scooter, and what things that mare means to do now that she is with us.” Spike nodded his affirmation, but was quickly distracted.
“Oh hey Rarity! Wow! Is that for Twilight?” he asked, standing and running behind Twilight where she could not see. Spike rarely showed any enthusiasm for dresses and the like, and for this reason, Twilight jerked her head around. Rarity was wheeling out the dress, mounted upon one of her mannequins, and Twilight could not have been more pleased with the result. The cape was indeed attached to the underside of the dress, but it only complemented the front piece. The fabric was not silk, but flowed airily and fantastically. It—like the accompanying cape—was in light blue, with gold borders and cuffs, but the sleeves only came down to about her knee and the neckline was dropped into a sharp V. Embroidered on the chest in gold thread was the silhouette of Twilight’s cutie mark, making it appear to be a crest. In addition to both pieces, Rarity had acquired sky blue hoof shoes; small and dainty, but etched with elegantly curling vines and leaves.
“It’s amazing Rarity!” Twilight exclaimed earnestly. “You must have been up all night working on an ensemble like this! Oh! It’s just so elegant and simple!”
“It was the least I could do darling,” Rarity replied, her satisfaction plastered over her entire face. “At the very least, that mare will show you some due respect with a dress like this.”
“I hope so,” Twilight said. “Can you help me into it?” she asked Rarity.
“What kind of boutique would this be if I did not help my customers?” Rarity asked, aghast. “Come here and stand still.” Twilight obeyed, but still stumbled slightly as Rarity had her lift one hoof after another off the ground to slip her into the outfit. Once, Spike even flinched forward like he would try to catch her. The entire process was marginally shorter than the other times Rarity had had her try on dresses, but the end result looked just as incredible as ever. “You look absolutely stunning!” Rarity declared as they both eyed Twilight in the mirror; Rarity patting down a wrinkle here or there. When she peered up again a small yelp escaped her lips, and she tore away with manic speed. She returned a second later, levitating two star shaped gold earrings into Twilight’s ears. “There! Now you’re outfit is complete!” Rarity said with finality.
“That’s good,” Spike said in a grunt, having been prompted to lift Twilight’s loaded saddle bags onto her back. “ ‘Cause we gotta go. It’s just ten minutes till twelve.”
“Let’s move then,” Twilight said, steeling herself for whatever so-called ‘science’ she would find aboard the ship. “Are you coming Rarity?”
“No, dear, I’m sorry,” Rarity replied, shaking her head. “Even if Sweetie Bell and Applebloom mean well, they need some oversight with whatever schemes they dream up to make that poor Scootaloo feel better.”
“It’s okay,” Twilight said. “Spike, go and spend some nice time with somepony like Pinkie.” He nodded awkwardly, as if he had wanted to argue at first, but then turned away from her as she moved solidly down the streets toward Ponyville Square. Twilight felt guilty about sending him away, but if she were to be held hostage, the last thing she wanted Spike to remember of her was a lone pony entering a flying fortress.
It was testament to Rarity’s designing skill that the dress did not inhibit her range of motion, even at a brisk pace. As Twilight rounded the corner into view of the allicorn’s vessel, she resigned herself to no more farewells. Not a single pony was present to wish her luck.
“What’s up Twilight?” Rainbow Dash’s carefree tone shocked Twilight into a startled jump. Twilight looked around for where her friend may have come from, but with Rainbow’s speed, it was impossible to tell. “That’s some dress,” she commented with a long yawn. “Rarity make it?”
“Yes, I think it looks rather nice,” Twilight replied turning to Rainbow, who had finally decided to hover beside her.
“Well, that’s just you,” Rainbow said flatly. “Anyway, came to wish ya luck. Nothing much happened last night except we couldn’t keep our thundercloud from drifting apart.”
“Did you see anything of the allicorn?” Twilight asked the far more important question.
“Yep,” Rainbow replied, “and she’s one hay of a ditz with magic. You could trump her easily, no prob.”
“That’s odd,” Twilight mused. “Allicorns are usually incredibly strong with magic.”
“Not her,” Rainbow asserted. “Like I said, you could so own her with your magic. She reminds me a lot of Trixie actually. All talk, no talent.”
“We’ll see,” Twilight said. “She managed to build that ship and bring it here didn’t she?”
“Pff, somepony else could have done that for her for all we know,” Rainbow replied, unconvinced. “I still think she’s a fraud. We should have her out of town this time tomorrow just like Trixie.”
“What if she turns out to be good for Ponyville?” Twilight posed the question seriously. Rainbow turned her head to Twilight dramatically slow, eyes half-lidded in pure cynicism. “Okay, okay,” Twilight replied defensively. “I just have to wonder.”
“Well, keep your wondering to yourself then,” Rainbow said. “Oh no, here comes Pinkie Pie. What in Equestria is she carrying?” Twilight instinctively turned to where Rainbow was staring; Pinkie Pie greeting her eyes. She was bounding down the streets—happy as ever—but on her back was strapped an uneven tower of cake boxes.
“Here’re the cupcakes Twilight!” she said gleefully. “Mrs. Cake was so nice, she let me take all of these! There’s one of every flavor from Sugarcube Corner in here!”
“That’s really nice Pinkie,” Twilight said hesitantly. “But I can’t carry all of them up there with me.”
“Can’t you just use magic?” Pinkie asked, confused as to why the number of boxes mattered at all.
“I could,” Twilight said, looking down and fidgeting uncomfortably with the ground, “but whenever I get really close to the ship, it becomes incredibly difficult to use magic, let alone walk and talk.”
“So she steals pegasus wings and unicorn horns!” Rainbow burst out. “I knew it!”
“Maybe you’ll get to use that lift!” Pinkie suggested happily. “That would be so neat! I’ve always wanted to ride one of those.”
“Well, we’re here,” Twilight said in something of a faint voice. She was looking directly up at the ship’s bottom, and this close to it there was no denying its menacing girth. “I’ll take as many cupcakes as I can but....” Twilight was about to make an excuse to not take Pinkie’s entire column of cupcakes, but before she had finished a muffled clang sounded from within the ship’s interior, and the litter began descending. It dropped through the platform cloud—whatever pulley system operated it clicking every moment—until it settled firmly on the streets of Ponyville. There was more than enough room for Pinkie’s cupcake collection. Twilight took a deep breath and stepped onto the litter, for the first time noticing two hoof pedals attached to it. Rainbow dubiously helped Pinkie Pie unload the stack next to Twilight, and once finished, the two stepped back and waved silently. Twilight brushed her dress nervously, but managed a smile and waved to her friends. She started briefly when the lift began rising and clinging again, but forcibly regained her composure before she was enveloped in the wood and brass construct. ______________________________________________________________________________
It was the strangest feeling, and one that Twilight Sparkle had only ever experienced once before. The sensation of moving from one world into another in the blink of an eye could never—in her opinion—be fully explained, either in words or thoughts. And yet, this was the very impression she ascribed to ascending into the vessel’s lower decks. Where Ponyville had been vibrant and cheery, even with the luminescent sphere casting its ghostly pink tinge upon everything; the inside of the ship was barely two toned. It was primarily constructed of hundreds of wooden planks, brass fixtures of various—and often times undecipherable—functions built in every few paces. Only an eerie foursome of these fixtures were operating upon her initial coming inside, casting an unnatural, yellowed, and wavering glow. It was as if they emitted a light that combined the traits of both fire and mechanical illumination.
Only when the litter had shuddered to a halt did more and more of the fixtures flicker to life. They cast their glow upon a narrow, low hall in which were visible more, differently shaped brass devices. Twilight could interpret nothing of these, as even their shape lent little to the understanding of their purpose. As her eyes traveled, taking in every detail, she jerked back when they alighted upon another pony just now coming from a hidden passage directly to the right of the lift. He casually closed the disguised entrance to the room and ambled toward Twilight with clear ease of presence. He was a pegasus, colored light maroon with vibrant green eyes. His mane was a curly, bushy controlled mess; reddish-pink in hue with neon pink tips. His tail had been dyed a solid black, though he still retained the pink ends. “Well, you can step off the litter now you know,” he said in awkward encouragement. His voice was light, but throatily scratchy. “The floor won’t fall out. Come on, step off.”
“Who are you?” Twilight asked bluntly, having expected to be met by the allicorn mare. “Where is the mare who owns this ship?”
“First, I am Inky Jay, traveling author, and currently employed scribe,” Inky Jay replied with an air of officialdom. “Lady Aurora is currently occupied. I was sent to give you much of the tour, as she is occupied with something imperative in her research. She told me to inform you that she will be with you as soon as her work permits.”
“Well,” Twilight replied, disgruntled, “you can go fetch this ‘Lady’ Aurora and inform her that I will not move an inch until she has the decency to show me around this ship herself.”
“She said you might say that,” Inky muttered, his formal tone dropped. “Look, she said she would prefer it if she could do the tour herself, but the research has to take precedence. She thought you of all ponies would understand.” Even if Twilight was still miffed that the allicorn—apparently named Aurora—had passed her off so easily, her reasoning was not too far off. Twilight did understand the pull and appeal of science, but in this case she thought presenting oneself to confused and scared ponies should take priority.
“Does she at least know how long she will be?” Twilight ventured. “It is my responsibility to give the town an impression of her, and already she’s disappointing me.”
“She didn’t tell me the exact time,” Inky replied, “but I assume she will take over about half-way through. Besides, I won’t presume to understand all of her technology, let alone explain it. I’m just going to show you the sights.” The situation was still so far from what she had expected, Twilight had trouble responding intelligently.
“I guess that’s fine...” she said, “I mean... as long as I get to meet her... Urgh! I sound like Fluttershy!”
“Who’s Fluttershy?” Inky asked, eyebrows arched. “Is she one of the ponies in the town?”
“Yes, and it doesn’t matter,” Twilight said rapidly to cover up her outburst. “Can we go?” She was eager to begin moving, if only to drain away her nervous energy.
“We could have gone the moment you came up,” Inky said plainly. “You were the one gawking at lights.”
“What did you expect me to do, coming into this foreign place?!” Twilight replied, angered by the pegasus’s impolite language.
“I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect,” Inky replied, not even fazed by Twilight’s indignation. “I’ve lived as assistant to Lady Aurora for quite some time now, and she is anything but normal.” He peered around Twilight, eyes narrowed inquisitively having caught a brief sight of the stack of cupcake boxes. “What did you bring with you?” he asked, taking it upon himself to stride onto the lift and consequently push Twilight into the hall proper.
“You have no sincerity,” Twilight said under her breath, disbelieving. She had heard Rarity’s horror stories about the affluent and ill-mannered Prince Blueblood, but she had only ever considered a small portion of those stories to be true on account of Rarity’s tendency to over-exaggerate. Now though, she had not the slightest trouble believing Rarity. If this servant, for there could be no doubt that that was Inky Jay’s position; could be so blatantly rude, there was nothing that said Blueblood could have been any better. In fact, considering those stories, Inky might possibly be even worse than Blueblood.
“Are there cakes of some kind in these flimsy boxes?” Inky asked critically, bringing Twilight out of her reverie, which at present might actually have been better than reality.
“Yes,” Twilight replied defiantly. “One of my friends wanted to give Miss Aurora a kind of welcoming gift and goodwill present.”
“I see...” Inky replied, not taking his eyes away from inspecting the boxes. The minutes dragged onward, Inky not stepping away from the cupcakes. The only change in his bearing was his tail, which had begun swishing back and forth immediately after Twilight’s answer.
Why is he so nervous? Twilight wondered, remembering having much the same give away the first few days in Princess Celestia’s selective academy. If anypony has a right to be nervous, it’s me.
“Okay then,” Inky finally stated, turning back to face Twilight, “I’ll have somepony come pick them up and carry them to Lady Aurora’s chambers. Do want to carry one box for when you actually meet her in person?”
“The gentlecolt thing to do would be to offer to carry it yourself,” Twilight replied lowly, glaring hatefully at Inky as she swung one box onto her back.
“Ha ha!” Inky laughed, genuinely amused. “The ponies here still hold onto those outdated notions!? Ha ha! Wow, you’re in for quite a shock then. Follow me so we can finally get this tour started. Ha ha.” Twilight dubiously obeyed, hoping that the science used to build the vessel would be enough to counter the effect of her terrible guide. “To start, I suppose I should show you how the doors work,” Inky began, stopping at the section of wall he had exited a few minutes before.
No, really, Twilight growled irritably to herself.
“Lady Aurora designed this vessel to be both a mobile lab as well as a fortress for her own defense,” Inky continued. “The doors are all hidden as part of the walls. You just have to memorize their locations, no signs, no anything.” He nodded his head back to confirm Twilight was watching as he put his hoof against the wood. “So,” he explained, “if you do happen to remember where a door is, all you do is push against it with your hoof and slide it to the right.” He did exactly this, applying pressure until a large square part of the wall receded slightly, and with a casual shove; it slid away to reveal a room gloomy with its single hanging brass light fixture. “The system works both ways as well,” Inky added, stepping into the space and indicating that Twilight should follow. As she passed the mechanism, mounted just inside the room, she fought her desire to be impressed with every ounce of willpower in her body. In the end, she conceded to it, able to admire both the craftsmanship and mathematical skill involved with building something so utilitarian.
Her admiration was cut short as Inky Jay coughed significantly for her attention. She faced him, but allowed her continuing displeasure to show with a pointed glare. He noticed, but merely shrugged nonchalantly before extending his hoof over a discombobulated contraption of gears, levers, and steel cables. “This is my pride and joy aboard the ship,” he said, eyes closed in immense self satisfaction. “Lady Aurora decided to make this litter at the last minute, and charged me with building the pulley system. I freely admit I am no engineer, but the system works and serves as a reminder to her of the hardship which she seeks to dispel.”
“And how exactly does she intend to do that?” Twilight asked critically. Inky returned to standing normally and pushed past her out the door.
“I am not sure,” he said, looking back at her. “I imagine she will tell you herself. Honestly, you should not expect a pegasus like myself to understand any of the magical alchemy you unicorns and allicorns do. All I do is take notes. Now, please, refrain yourself from asking me such probing questions anymore. Follow me.” He ruffled his wings importantly and motioned for her to step up to his side. Twilight came, but gave herself as much distance from this pegasus as was possible in the narrow hall. Inky reminded her a great deal of the Canterlot ponies she always met on trips to the Princess’s city. He was self-righteous, imperious, and completely insensitive. As he led her along, she hoped his behavior was not by example, and that Aurora would be more personable. “This is the only hall that leads directly to the deck of the House of a Thousand Fangs,” Inky said, rounding the first corner and coming to a ridiculously high, wooden spiral staircase. “In total she has five decks, all built with a different floor layout,” Inky grated on in his scratchy voice. “Four decks are for different areas of research; the fifth and lowest is for quarters and maintenance. That is the one I will be showing you.”
He trotted around to the stairs and began the long climb to the surface. Twilight felt a permanent frown becoming plastered on her face as she struggled up the steps loaded down with a dress, books, and box of cupcakes. To add to this difficulty, she was beginning to feel the effects of the fields around the ship. Now more aware of the magic’s debilitating effects on her, Twilight endeavored to keep careful track of its progress. As she laboriously climbed the stairs—Inky pausing every now and again to allow her to catch him—she acted as if she were just about to reach for magic. It was incredibly difficult not to slip into actual use, but Twilight’s concentration prevailed. Only, there was not a single change in her magical reservoir. She could feel increasing difficulty in maintaining contact with it, but nothing about its self changed. Unable to stand it any longer, she attempted to grasp a simple lighting spell. Without meaning to, she let slip a small gasp. There was nothing, nothing at all. It was if somepony had placed a clear wall between her and magic. She could see it, even feel it; but grasping it was another matter entirely. An intense feeling of dread washed over her, as it seemed Rainbow Dash had been correct about Aurora stealing unicorn horns.
Inky Jay, having noticed she had ceased walking up the extensive stairwell, came back to check on her. At first, he appeared perturbed that she was slowing them down, but a knowing light sparked in his eye when he stepped closer. “The fields treating you harshly?” he asked, the first note of genuine sympathy Twilight had heard in his voice. She actually blinked several times to check whether or not it was the same pony speaking to her or if she was just hallucinating. “It passes,” he continued, still concerned. He lifted the cupcakes off her back, and offered a hoof to assist her. “Try not to concentrate on the loss, and the fields are kinder to you. You will find that you tire out much less.”
“But you’re a pegasus!” Twilight exclaimed, waving away his hoof and determinedly climbing on her own power. “How can you just get used to not flying?”
“Oh, I can still fly,” Inky replied, his voice now returned to its normal affluency. “Just the same way you can still perform magic. It’s just more effort than it’s worth in the end.”
“But... but I can’t use any magic,” Twilight stumbled, confused now about the effects of the field. “And one of my friends is a pegasus, and when she came over the ship, she couldn’t fly.” Inky was frowning seriously, but it was more a condescending look than that of confusion.
“You Equestrians must be...” he was saying, but at that moment, they emerged onto the deck of Aurora’s ship. “Lady Aurora...” Inky interrupted himself, for the allicorn was striding from another opening in the deck. “I thought your experiments were going to take a good portion of the afternoon.”
“The hypotheses turned out to be incorrect,” Aurora said bluntly unconcerned, “so there was no point in carrying on with the research. Her eyes lingered on Inky first, which Twilight considered odd seeing as she was the guest. “Get that box off your back Inky Jay,” she said sharply. “If she has brought us something, it is not our duty, but hers, to see to it that it reaches the intended recipient.”
“I would have done as much,” Inky defended himself, though he removed the box, “but the protective fields seem to be having an odd effect on the ponies in this town. She and the blue pegasus from before have both completely lost their respective abilities upon coming into contact with them.”
“I AM HERE YOU KNOW!” Twilight shouted, unable to bear being treated as baggage any longer. “I am an ambassador,” she stated, somewhat breathlessly for the effects of the fields, “and you could show a little more respect for me.”
“Don’t expend yourself trying to get my attention young one,” Aurora replied softly forceful, her pale pink eyes narrowed all the same. “You look grand in that outfit, but contrary to what you have assumed, this is not in any way related to politics or an exchange of ideas. This is related to science and science alone, and I chose you to come here because you had the look of a learned pony in your eyes, nothing more. If you wish to participate in our discussion, speak relevantly.” Her words, while not harsh in and of themselves, were biting. In that, she was much like Princess Celestia.
“Well, I won’t be able to talk much about science if I fall over from exhaustion,” Twilight fought back.
“I heard what Inky advised you do,” Aurora answered. “And it seems you have not yet taken his advice. Consider yourself nothing more than an Earth pony and see if that helps before raging against me.” It was no easy task, to forget completely about the loss of her magical abilities especially when the fatigue was so prevalent in her mind; but simply attempting the exercise brought a measure of relief. From then on, she only had to find something else on which to concentrate, and Scootaloo’s lost scooter was the best option. “Better,” Aurora said. It was not a question.
Twilight nodded anyway and said, although grudgingly, “Thank you.”
“You have no need to thank me,” Aurora replied, “not until Ponyville has experienced the full extent of my skills.” She turned pointedly to Inky and said, “Be sure to prepare my labs for tomorrow, as usual; then you have leave. You may even venture into the town if you like.”
“Thank you Lady Aurora,” Inky inclined his head to her, and swished his tail as he sauntered away.
“Inky Jay is a unique personality,” Aurora said to Twilight, not bothering with the fact that Inky was still within earshot, “but he is incredibly skilled with the pen. Now girl, tell me your name so we may get down to the business of my summons.” While she was appreciative of Aurora’s direct manner, it gave Twilight no hope that she would be any more polite than her scribe. All the same, it also meant Twilight herself could be just as purposeful without feeling intrusive.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she answered evenly. “I am the favored student to Princess Celestia, and...” she had continued, hoping to both impress and intimidate, but neither seemed to affect Aurora.
“I did not ask for your relations, to Celestia or otherwise,” Aurora cut in, irritated. “I only asked for your name, and you having given it to me, we may continue.”
“No! Hold on!” Twilight finally burst out, not settling for being trampled over like she was worth nothing. “I am representative for Ponyville, and I will carry out that responsibility as if Princess Celestia herself had given it to me! Now, there are several things you should...”
“Keep your words between your teeth,” Aurora cut in again, this time in a louder, more authoritative voice. “I saw in you both spirit and a keen mind, which are the reasons I chose you to come here on behalf of your town. But you must learn that there is a time and a place for everything. You and yours may have many grievances against me already, and I will be willing to hear them all out; but this is neither the time nor the place for us to discuss them. Balance your mind and your spirit.” Twilight shrank back, not out of fear for the mare—as Rainbow had thankfully dispelled such notions—but more from the biting tone of her speech. She was just as forward as Inky Jay, but her words had more edge to them—more relevance. But what was oddest, this mare was speaking down to her, and yet acknowledged and expressed a desire to repair any preconceived opinions of herself.
Twilight’s confusion at this apparent contradiction showed as she said, “You... you care about our perception of you?”
“Only to a certain degree,” Aurora corrected. “I will not change for them, and I will not expect them to change for me; however, I wish to avoid a dismissal of my science on my character alone.”
“Okay,” Twilight said. Despite herself, she was beginning to warm up to Aurora. It was clear her work was her passion, and Twilight could most definitely relate to that. And ignoring how Aurora used it, Twilight also thought she was a bit like Princess Celestia in both poise and authority. “What was it that you wanted to show me first?”
“I am glad you have finally come around to a legitimate question,” Aurora said, motioning for Twilight to join her side. “Now try to open your mind. It seems Equestrians have become so mentally stingy as of late.”
The pulley system hauling Twilight into the ship clicked ominously and repetitively in Rainbow Dash’s ears. She knew everything about the allicorn mare’s ship was designed to intimidate, including the clicking of the lift. With equal force, she was determined to not let it affect her. “You ready Pinkie?” Rainbow asked the pony beside her.
“Let’s do this!” Pinkie replied fiercely. Only after a moment of thought did she return to her normal clueless self and say, “Wait, what are we doing?”
“Where’s Applejack?” Rainbow settled for asking with a face-hoof.
“She’s right har.” The selfsame Applejack strode up to the pair, continuing, “Twilight go up inta tha’ thang already?”
“Yeah. The mission is a go,” Rainbow replied, flipping her hair confidently. “Where did you hide it?”
“It’s still at tha farm, and it ain’t dun yet,” Applejack said pointedly. “Why does it haf to be ready now anywho?”
“Oh!” Pinkie added in a drawn out syllable, “That mission. Super sneaky time!” She sped off in a flurry of hooves and legs and returned a second later in a black, full-body suit. Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes at Pinkie’s eccentricity, not for the first time wishing Pinkie had not overheard her and Applejack’s conversation.
“It can’t be that hard to build one,” Rainbow said to Applejack critically. “I gave you that book I snuck out of the library, and Big Mac should’ve been helping right?”
“We’re just Earth ponies,” Applejack retaliated, “and no matt’r how good we’re at buildin’ equipment, this thang ain’t a plow.”
“Okay, I get it,” Rainbow replied, motioning for Applejack to calm down. “But there’s got to be a way to get me in...”
“There’s really no point in talkin’ ‘bout it if we don’ know where to put it once we’re ready,” Applejack said dryly. “Maybe we should take a look around town. Who knows, we migh’ get some bright ideas.”
“I can’t think of anything better,” Rainbow answered, angry that they were still effectively doing nothing. “Pinkie?”
“What are you two talking about?” Pinkie asked, bewildered. “I thought we were getting Dashie inside the ship to help Twilight.”
“We are,” Applejack explained, “but the catapult Big Mac and I’re tryin’ to make’s hit a little snag. We can’ find a boulder heavy enough to fling Rainbow Dash.”
“Hey!” Rainbow cut in defensively. “I’m not fat! Just because I like my naps doesn’t mean I’m lazy!”
“Nopony said you were lazy,” Applejack glared at her, “but come to think of it...”
“Not listening!” Rainbow said determinedly, putting her front hooves into her ears as she flew up.
“Stop arguing,” Pinkie said, smiling awkwardly. “This doesn’t help Twilight at all, but I think I have just the thing!”
“Whadya mean?” Applejack asked, perplexed.
“Please don’t tell me you have a catapult somewhere in Ponyville,” Rainbow said, already weary of Pinkie. “I swear Pinkie...”
“No, silly!” Pinkie waved her hoof excitedly with her eyes shut. “I’ve got something better. Follow me!” With a jovial grin, she bounced away; leaving her friends little choice but to follow her. Both did so, but Rainbow could not help but pass Applejack a look of serious concern. The Earth pony only shrugged in reply, and trotted after Pinkie with fewer inhibitions than Rainbow thought was safe. Unfortunately, as much as she would rather not blindly follow Pinkie to who knew where, if Applejack’s catapult was not yet finished and there were no other options; she would do just about anything to get out of sight of the monstrous ship.
As it was, Sugar Cube Corner just happened to be their destination, and the edge of the vessel’s shadow still encompassed the bakery. More from this than any true annoyance with Pinkie herself, Rainbow said rather scathingly, “What are we doing here Pinkie Pie?”
“Rainbow Dash cou’ be a bit nicer ‘bout it,” Applejack added, pointedly eyeing Rainbow, “but I gotta ask tha same question. What the hay you got in that thar room o’ yours?”
“Seriously Pinkie,” Rainbow said, ignoring Applejack’s comment. “How is cake supposed to help us? You already gave Twilight that load of cupcakes.”
“You both are so silly,” Pinkie giggled as she stepped up to the bakery door. “Who said anything about cake?” Before either of her friends could reply with more than curious and confused looks, Pinkie knocked on the door. Nopony answered for a few seconds, but Mr. Cake eventually peaked his head out the barely cracked entrance.
“Oh,” he said mildly, “Pinkie Pie. Do you need something?”
“Yep!” Pinkie said excitedly. Mr. Cake eyed her with scrutinous suspicion until Mrs. Cake’s voice rang out from inside the shop.
“Who is it, dear?” Rainbow could hear her asking. Mr. Cake pulled his head back inside for a brief moment, relaying some information Rainbow was unable to pick out. “Well let them in then!” Mrs. Cake’s voice answered immediately. Mr. Cake did as much, motioning for Rainbow and Applejack to hurry inside.
“Sorry about all the fuss,” Mr. Cake said to their threesome. “But that ship and its Discord-be-darned magic have put all of us on edge. I keep worrying about an invasion or something.”
“I wouldn’ blame ya Mr. Cake,” Applejack spoke up as Pinkie bounded upstairs without a hint of the seriousness blanketing the room. “It’s sure got a bad feelin’ to it.”
“Forget bad feeling,” Rainbow said. “That thing’s definitely big enough to hold an army. If I could get to Cloudsdale, I’d round up some pegasi and we’d storm the place. That mare wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“It’s prob’ly full of traps Rainbow,” Applejack replied. “I wouldn’t trust even the surest hooves in tha’ place.”
“Aside from all that,” Mr. Cake explained worriedly, “it’s affecting our foals. Pumpkin and Pound are usually full of energy, but ever since it came, they’ve been almost depressed.”
“Well duh,” Rainbow said. “The magic around it steals pegasi wings and unicorn horns. I’m surprised more ponies aren’t as hard hit.”
“Most of our friends have said they’re just feeling tired,” Mr. Cake replied. “I wonder why Miss Sparkle was so... affected.” Rainbow and Applejack shared a half-knowing look, and luckily, Pinkie’s attention-grabbing pitch turned everypony’s head before Mr. Cake had time to notice the significance.
“Can I get some help here!?” she bellowed over the balcony rail.
“Whadya need Pinkie?” Applejack asked.
“Thanks AJ,” Pinkie said with a rather sheepish smile, “but I really need Dashie for this one.”
“What the hay does that mean?” Rainbow asked, lazily flying up to face Pinkie directly. Only when she was level with the pink earth pony did Rainbow see the source of Pinkie’s problem. “No,” she said flatly. “Absolutely not. I can’t believe that’s your answer to the problem! Do I look like a pony that wants to end up a greasy splat mark on the side of that ship!?”
“What’s wrong Rainbow? What’d Pinkie give us?” Applejack asked.
“She wants to shoot me out of that party cannon she has!” Rainbow shouted down, hoping Applejack would be convinced of the ridiculousness of the idea.
“Sweet Celestia Pinkie Pie!” Applejack said brightly. “I shoulda thought o’ tha’ sooner!”
“What?! No!” Rainbow replied, frustrated that practical Applejack was agreeing with eccentric Pinkie Pie. “Why’re you going along with this!?”
“It’s no more dangerous than lauchin’ you from a stinkin’ catapult,” Applejack said firmly.
“What’s all this fuss about?” Mrs. Cake came into the room, bearing a tray of fresh-baked cookies.
“I’m not sure dear,” Mr. Cake replied, the bewilderment showing in his voice.
“Hi Mrs. Cake!” Pinkie waved. “We’re going to launch Rainbow Dash out of my party cannon! Oooh! Those cookies look soooo good!”
“We are not shooting anypony out of that cannon,” Rainbow retorted.
“See, Rainbow needs some help gettin’ off the ground with that ship around,” Applejack covered for the awkwardness of the situation.
“Um, okay,” Mrs. Cake replied, still uncomfortable. “I guess trying to keep things normal around here is the best we can all do.”
“But this is anything but normal!” Pinkie burst out.
Before her friend could reveal their dare-devilish plan, Rainbow inserted loudly, “Yeah! I know right! This trick is so rad!”
“Good luck then,” Mrs. Cake said, walking away with her husband to the kitchen.
“Jus’ help ‘er get the dang cannon!” Applejack hissed at Rainbow once the Cake’s were busy with their pastries. “You two almos’ blew it.”
“I still don’t wanna be launched out of this thing,” Rainbow hissed back, grabbing the cannon from where Pinkie had wheeled it onto the balcony. With much groaning and wincing, Rainbow lowered the cannon onto the ground floor, and reflected that something so innocent looking should not weigh so much.
“Thanks a bunch Dashie,” Pinkie said, coming down the stairs at a light trot. “I would have taken it down this way, but I probably would have lost my grip and it would have gone crashing through the wall, and then the Cakes would have been all mad, and then we would have been caught, and...”
“We get your point Pinkie,” Applejack said, if only to stop her rambling. She tapped the cannon experimentally with her hoof, eliciting a light tinkling sound. “You sure this thang’s strong enough to launch Rainbow?”
“Of course!” Pinkie answered, bouncing up and down. “Can we go? I thought we were on a schedule here.”
“Hold on,” Rainbow was nearly pleading now as she followed the other two out the door, Applejack pushing the cannon along. “How many times do I have to say that I don’t want to get launched out of that stupid thing?!”
“It’s not stupid!” Pinkie said, looking back at Rainbow with an offended frown.
“And it really ain’t about whatcha want,” Applejack replied pointedly. “We gotta help Twi, and tha only way we’re gonna do that is with this here cannon.”
“I just really don’t want to get impaled on one of those spikes,” Rainbow said. “The openings near them are the only places to get in, and...”
“And what?” Applejack asked, supremely irritated. “What makes ya thank a catapult woulda’ been any better?”
“Hello!” Rainbow nearly shouted, spreading her wings out for emphasis, “a catapult would’ve sent me over the spike, and I would have been able to land on it, then walk in. With the cannon, you’ll have to shoot me at the gap and I’ll have to trust Pinkie Pie’s aim.” She shuddered at the very thought, a horrible sequence of events involving the cannon passing through her imagination.
“Well if that’s all,” Applejack said sympathetically, “would ya do it if I were aimin’?”
“It would be better,” Rainbow replied, “but, I mean, I’m being shot at a spike. It’s not exactly a comforting idea.”
“I don’ think anypony’d argue with ya on that one,” Applejack chuckled. Turning to Pinkie, who was leading them still, she asked, “So where’re ya takin’ us ta shoot this thang?”
“Oh,” Pinkie stopped. “I wasn’t taking us anywhere.” Rainbow face-hoofed again, but Applejack only began surveying the surrounding terrain.
Noticing this, Rainbow advised, “It’s going to be too much trouble to try to take it on a balcony or something, and we can’t go too far away...”
“I know, I know,” Applejack mused. “That mare sure knows how ta be a pain in the flank.” Both Rainbow and Applejack scrutinized Ponyville for a good few minutes, while Pinkie only fiddled absently with her cannon. “I’m not sure we got a choice,” Applejack continued, to break the silence. “Goin’ on a roof I mean.”
“Oh c’mon!” Rainbow shook her head in exasperation. “Ponyville has to have a good lookout. Cloudsdale has tons of them.”
“Rainbow,” Applejack said flatly, “this town was built by Earth ponies, not pegasi.”
“Town Hall’s got a great balcony!” Pinkie piped up. “I could put Rainbow in, point it straight up, and—!”
“Pinkie, I think we need to set some ground rules with this crazy cannon idea,” Rainbow said, trying her best to keep cool. “First, I’ll be putting myself in the cannon. I don’t want to do it in the first place, but since we have to...” she shot Applejack an irritated look, “... I’ll be getting in myself.”
“Never mind that wishy-washy nonsense,” Applejack put in. “Pinkie Pie, want makes ya think tha cannon’d be strong enough to punch Rainbow through tha’ wood.”
“True,” Pinkie replied, eyeing the sky in apparently deep thought, “Maybe we should test it with a rock first.”
“That’s not the point!” Rainbow began to raise her voice, now seriously concerned that Pinkie and Applejack might try to smash her through the ship. “Remember, we said we were getting me in through the gaps where the spikes are.”
“Ya don’ thank ya could survive it?” Applejack asked. “I’ve seen ya go through some pretty rough stuff before.”
“It’s different!” Rainbow insisted. “Pegasi can survive a boatload of crashes and be okay, but that thing takes my pegasus... ness—I think—never mind. I think I’d survive, but walking would be another thing.”
“What about Twilight’s house?!” Applejack’s face lit up. “I can’ believe we didn’ thank of it before! It’s got balconies, and nopony’ll be watchin’ for anypony else goin’ near it.”
“But it’s not exactly close to the ship...” Rainbow trailed off, imagining the distance as if she were flying. “I guess it could work. And you’re right about nopony being around.”
“Perfect!” Pinkie cheered. “Follow me!” She grinned wildly, perhaps maniacally, as she wheeled the cannon around and trotted past Rainbow and Applejack in the direction of the library. ______________________________________________________________________________
Even if Twilight had been sorely disappointed with the way in which her tour through Aurora Streak’s ship had gone up until meeting the allicorn, she had at least thought Aurora herself would be somewhat sociable. But exactly the opposite was true. She was certainly not like Inky Jay, who was frank to the point of indecency, but completely silent. Even her breathing and hoofsteps were inaudible. To add to the cold edge, she never once glanced at Twilight; but only stared straight ahead, even while descending into the bowels of her creation. The brief conversation they had shared at their meeting had been the only moment Twilight had had to glean something of her character. The unfortunate result was a horrible twisting of Twilight’s mind as she struggled on three separate occasions to begin a conversation during the descent. The common courtesy Princess Celestia had instilled within her told her to wait and allow Aurora, the host, to take the initiative; but Aurora had demonstrated how exactly she viewed these rules of courtesy when she insisted Twilight carry the cupcakes.
It was so uncomfortable, Twilight finally shivered at the bottom of the stairs to relieve the tension. It was the last thing she had thought would elicit a response from Aurora, but the mare said critically, “Oh, do not act as though it is cold.”
“No, that’s not it,” Twilight hurriedly corrected the misinterpretation, inwardly glad there was now reason for them both to talk. “It was just a shake of nerves.”
“I see...” Aurora replied. “Do you have something else to say Twilight Sparkle? I have felt it in your very bearing ever since we began walking together.”
“Well, it’s only that Princess Celestia...” Twilight began, but was cut sharply.
“Do not bring her name aboard my ship unless absolutely necessary,” Aurora stated.
“Why not?” Twilight fought back, offended this mare thought Princess Celestia could be treated so, even in name. Taking a cue from Pinkie Pie’s randomness, she added, “Would you like a cupcake?” She removed the box from her back and opened it to a nice foursome of treats.
“I have many things against Celestia, none of which you need know, so you need not ask. And yes, those cakes look mightily tasty. I have not had such delicacies for many years,” Aurora answered, perfectly at ease and bending to inspect the cakes. Twilight only stared into space in something akin to disbelief, but more startling. Aurora had completely turned her attempt at disarmament against her, and done so quite successfully. “So, what rests upon your mind young one?” Aurora asked again, this time taking a vanilla-on-vanilla on her hoof and biting into it. An accompanying sigh of satisfaction followed soon after.
“Well, it’s just... um,” Twilight struggled at first, still recovering from Aurora’s skill in speaking, “I was curious if you could do me a favor.”
“That depends,” Aurora said through a mouth-full of cupcake.
“You see, a group of adventurous fillies from town thought they...” Twilight paused. It would be truthful to say Scootaloo and the rest had wanted to help in the investigation of the field, but that could only result in escalating the antagonism between Ponyville and Aurora. Instead, Twilight said, “...they were playing a bit crazily around that pink field, and one of their toys went through. The toy belongs to the filly that touched it too. Will she be okay? And can you get the toy back for her?”
Aurora had been completely calm through this long-winded explanation up until Twilight mentioning Scootaloo touching the field. “How many ponies in this ignorant, over curious town have touched it?” she asked hurriedly, eyes wide.
“Um... only two that I know of,” Twilight answered reluctantly.
“And!” Aurora demanded.
“And what?” Twilight asked, confused as to Aurora’s intentions.
“Who else touched it? What are the filly’s symptoms? If my assistance is to be had, and it most likely will be, then these are facts I must know,” Aurora pushed.
“My friend Pinkie Pie touched it first, but she’s okay now,” Twilight answered, somewhat perturbed and concerned by Aurora’s intensity. “And Scootaloo—she’s the filly—is running an awful fever and has pain in her flanks.” Aurora did not reply at first, only eyed Twilight inquisitively and penetratingly.
“You would say this Pinkie Pie character is a close friend of yours?” the alicorn finally asked.
“Yes, but I just told you she’s okay,” Twilight frowned. “Scootaloo is the one in the hospital.”
“All details, no matter how apparently insignificant,” Aurora lectured, “are all equally important. To ignore even the most trivial matter is to potentially overlook your greatest discovery. Are you modern students of science not taught this? As for the filly, she will be fine. Give her a few more days and everything will dissipate. Amazingly, luck favors me this once, and my assistance is not required.”
“That’s a relief,” Twilight said legitimately, brushing over the stab at her education. Aurora had some sort of grudge against Princess Celestia, and these comments were likely to continue until Twilight learned of the source. That though, would have to wait. “What about Scootaloo’s toy?”
“I could allow you to retrieve it,” Aurora replied, “but it would require me to lower the entire field. This is something I absolutely refuse to do. But this turn of events will allow me to make a public demonstration. Quite an effective one at that. Can I be assured that I and my equipment will not be mauled by angry villagers?”
“I’m sure my friend Applejack can make sure nopony bothers you. She’s really well respected in the town,” Twilight said, satisfied. An awkward silence followed, solidifying into fact Twilight’s assumption that Aurora expected guests to offer up first spoken words. “Where is it that you will be taking me? I’m really eager to see all the science that must have gone into making this ship; let alone figuring out how to make it fly.”
Before replying, Aurora stuffed the last of the cupcake—a considerable portion—into her jaws, and chewed methodically. “I would very much like to answer your question immediately, but it requires first another on my part. What sort of magics has my.... has Celestia taught you?”
Despite the chance to show off both her own knowledge and Celestia’s instructing skill, Aurora’s slight pause caught most of Twilight’s attention. She subdued the curiosity before her silence became noticeable, and answered, “I know basic levitation, teleportation, some healing spells, and a few more obscure tricks. Mostly Celestia teaches me physical science and I study astronomy on my own.”
“Define what you mean by ‘obscure tricks’,” Aurora queried.
“Oh, just some silly little things,” Twilight answered, lowering her gaze from Aurora in slight embarrassment. “They really aren’t that important.”
“Does forgetfulness run in your family?” Aurora asked sternly. “I remember clearly stating that all details were important. My request is simple, and if it is ridicule you fear, then I insist you put it aside. You will find no such stupidity here, as all practice in magic is effective.”
“Um, I memorized most of the spells in the One Hundred and Two Tricks for Unicorns,” Twilight acknowledged in something akin to shame despite Aurora’s statement.
“I am not familiar with that tome,” Aurora replied, “but the number itself is impressive. Is there anything else?”
“Well, I did use a time travel spell once,” Twilight said, hoping this would repair any ill-impression Aurora may have had from her last answer. But rather than spark with interest, Aurora growled with frustration, whipping around and tutting with disapproval. “Do you have something against Starswirl the Bearded?” Twilight ventured.
“It was one of his that you used then,” Aurora said stiffly, not turning back around. “No, he was an incredible prodigy, and I have the utmost respect for him. It seems though, that Celestia still holds an irrational fear in the area of magic I will reveal to you. Luna was always more accepting, but then, Luna was never such an ardent pacifist as Celestia.”
“Are you talking about dark magic?” Twilight asked. “Because if you are, then Princess Celestia has told me about it; and I know that it’s a horrible thing to practice.” The yes she had expected never came, but instead, Aurora faced Twilight as she laughed heartily and rather merrily.
“Oh, by the stars in the heavens!” she said with increasing mirth. “She has gone so far as to brand some magic as ‘dark’?! Oh, that is indeed hilarious!” Calming herself, she continued, “Whatever you have heard or read, there is no such thing as ‘dark’ magic. It is all a hoax and a way for ‘good’ ponies to identify ‘bad’ magic. And, no, what I wish to show you has much more potential than any other area of magical study. Likely you have never heard of it, but I, Aurora Streak, will introduce you to Indirectly Applied Magic.” With this statement, she strode off for several paces, and upon reaching a particular section of wall pushed it in to open one of the hidden doors. Twilight hastily closed up the cupcakes and swung the box back onto her back before hurrying over to peer through the newly opened door.
The sight before her explained their geography within the ship, but not much more than that. She was gazing down a two flights of stairs into a relatively spacious hall filled with mind-boggling contraptions. Jutting out from one wall were sets of brass pipes. In each set was a pipe above and below that branched into six like a leaf’s veins. At the end of all twelve branched pipes were parts that seemed to have a lever function of sorts. Each of these levers rested in the same position, and were connected to their vertical partner by large, thick brass cylinders. This design was repeated over and over again down the entire hall, and Twilight’s analytical mind estimated there to be at least two hundred cylinders, maybe more. Even more bizarre were the iron podiums on the opposite wall, corresponding to each pipe set.
Determined to identify the foreign design without asking for assistance, Twilight began manually pulling the considerable number of books out of her saddlebags to bring them before her pupils. Some she immediately returned some to the bags; but three she kept out and began flipping through. “You will find nothing of use in those, especially if your teacher has withheld this area of magical study from you,” Aurora said blandly, beginning to move down the stairs into the hall proper. “And even if she had not, I doubt any books would help you identify my creations.”
With a heavy scowl—for Aurora was correct—Twilight returned her books to their bags and followed the allicorn into the hall. Much like all of the other brass fixtures throughout the ship, nothing about the shape of the brass tubes and cylinders helped Twilight identify their function. The only information she could glean from them was an odd inscription carved into all of the cylinders in a jagged, foreign script. Aurora had gone to the trouble of cataloging them all, which must point to something of their importance. “Try to ease your pride so learning may take its place,” Aurora said as she motioned for Twilight to join her by the first iron podium. It was unremarkable, except for a single brass pedal at its base.
Taking Aurora’s advice, Twilight placed her hoof onto the pedal and pushed down. With minimal grating from small gears within the construct, the podium’s top opened up and the top of a brass cylinder rose from within it. A brief charging whine sounded within it before it released a glowing cyan hologram at Twilight’s eye level. It took a moment for her to realize it, but the hologram depicted one of the piping sets. Aurora strode around to face Twilight through the hologram. Even distorted by the projection, her smile of accomplishment was undeniable. “Touch it,” Aurora said just short of a whisper.
“But I can’t really,” Twilight said amusedly. “A hologram is nothing but a play of light. I could no more touch air.”
“Are you sure what is before you is just light?” Aurora asked potently. Under ordinary circumstances, such as being tested by Princess Celestia, Twilight would have answered ‘yes’ with supreme confidence. But these were far from ordinary circumstances, and Aurora Streak was the farthest thing from Princess Celestia Twilight could imagine in allicorn terms. Tentatively, she lifted a hoof, inching it toward the hologram. Her hoof momentarily brushed it before she yanked it back with a startled yelp; the hologram fluidly morphed into a depiction of a singular cylinder, and with it; numerous statistics in each corner all written in the illegible script.
“What is all this?” Twilight asked somewhat fearfully.
“You need not be afraid of these inventions,” Aurora said calmly, coming around to the podium and shutting down the hologram with a second press of the pedal. “Aside from that, I am pleased that you see that all of these are connected. The hologram you interacted with is actually a mapping spell.”
“How is that possible?” Twilight asked. “You don’t have enslaved unicorns below the floor do you?!”
“Pfft,” Aurora spat, “even if I wanted to be that inefficient, there are not enough skilled unicorns in Equestria and beyond to fuel all of the operations of the House of a Thousand Fangs. No, you have just born witness to years of study, research, practice, and the implementation of a special talent. Indirectly Applied Magic involves placing a spell within a particular object in order for it to perform that spell for you while you do other things. It sounds simple, but if Celestia’s neglect in your instruction is anything to judge by, it is incredibly complex, difficult, and requiring of a different magical style than most unicorns possess.”
“Then why would you want to show it to me?” Twilight asked, confused. She understood the concept of Indirectly Applied Magic, but from the way Aurora was speaking of it; it was unlikely it was something she could master by study or even practice. “The only magic I should learn about is the kind that I can actually use and the kind that can benefit me and all other ponies.”
“That,” Aurora said disgusted, “is only Celestia speaking. I can see you are interested in the subject just in the way you stand before me. I showed you this to give you a taste of what I am able to offer the ponies of Ponyville and Equestria at large. Imagine the possibilities of this kind of technology in the hands of Earth ponies. Beyond even that, the good that could be brought to Equestria is unparalleled.”
“You want to give everypony this kind of magic?” Twilight asked, still attempting to wrap her head around the possibilities Aurora had mentioned. “But all the different kinds of ponies are defined by our ties to magic. If you take that away, all ponies will lose their identities.”
“Take away their identities or make all ponies equal?” Aurora said stolidly. “I will leave it up to you about whether or not to give a favorable report of myself to the citizens of Ponyville, but please consider how much happier everypony would be if life were not so tedious any longer. If it would help my case, I will be prepared for three hours after retrieving the filly’s toy to manufacture a Device in public to meet the need of any pony in this town.”
“I need to think,” was all Twilight could say. “This is all so much new information.”
“It is not as much as you imagine,” Aurora stated simply as she led Twilight back up the stairs and to the next flight that would take them back through the maze of halls and eventually to the top deck. “And Twilight Sparkle, just because IAM is a difficult subject, it has no bearing on a unicorn’s ability to learn how to do it, so long as their talent happens to be magic, like yours.”
“So... would you teach me?” Twilight asked, always intrigued by the idea of new branches of magic. Her talent permitted her— Wait, how had Aurora known her talent was magic. She was sure she had never mentioned it, and her cutie mark was not exactly indicative of her talent like many ponies. As subtly as possible, she edged as far from Aurora as she could without seeming suspicious. The idea and potential of Indirectly Applied Magic held her fascination, but Aurora was too unpredictable and eerie a character for her to trust with something so important to the safety of her mind and self. “Actually, never mind,” she said swiftly and nervously. “I’m not sure if I’d even want to... um, get into it. It sounds like a branch of study that takes a lot of time.”
“Indeed it does,” Aurora answered, “but I would not have been willing to teach anypony. This is all that I have, and I am not yet ready to give it up so easily. Do you remember the way back? I have work that needs attention.”
“The tour is over? That’s all you wanted to show me?” Twilight asked, shocked at the brevity of the so-called tour.
“Forgetfulness must be only within yourself then,” Aurora said, irritated. “My secrets are mine to give out as I see fit. Be glad I was willing to divulge this much. Now, do you remember the way back or not?”
“Yes, I do,” Twilight replied. “Have a good evening. Everypony will be expecting you tomorrow.”
“I prefer only a simply farewell,” Aurora said, though she waved her hoof regardless. “A day is not good until it is finished and can be reflected upon.” Twilight nodded, and began the relieving walk away from the furtive Aurora, and looking forward to being able to use her magic easily once off and away from the House of a Thousand Fangs. Whether a she could give a good report or not was still debatable. ______________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow found that the only thing worse than attempting to shove her whole body into Pinkie Pie’s Party Cannon, was being wheeled around by Applejack while in the Party Cannon. Squeezing her lean body inside the opening had been more difficult than uncomfortable, though the sense of having her wings pinned to her sides was possibly the second worse thing to having them taken away entirely.
True to Applejack’s logic, there was not a pony around the Ponyville Library. Even Spike was absent, creating an eerie atmosphere Rainbow had never expected to experience in the cozy building. Hauling the Cannon up the multiple and convoluted flights of stairs had been no easy task, especially with Rainbow’s two Earth pony companions attempting to help. She had appreciated the gesture, but eventually had been forced to shout at them both to insist that she was better off doing it herself. Logistical difficulties aside, the three of them and their fickle weapon of choice were now atop the library’s highest balcony.
In conjunction with the height, the claustrophobic confines of the Cannon were making Rainbow slightly nauseated. In addition, it was more than a little disturbing being at the mercy of Applejack’s aiming method—no matter how skilled she was at bucking apples as ammunition. It was not helpful either that the ship before them had enough length at this distance to only blur painfully when Applejack made any significant change of position. It was supremely odd, Rainbow considered, that she was able to perform head-spinning acrobatics and not feel the slightest churn of the stomach, and yet she thought she might soon lose her lunch of pizza over the side of the balcony.
“Applejack! make up your mind!” Rainbow was unable to restrain herself any longer.
“Oh hush Rainbow,” Applejack admonished. “If ya wanna live through this, ya gotta be patient.”
“Could you at least stop moving so much,” Rainbow nearly gagged as she was swung first one way then switched back the next.
“What’er ya talkin’ ‘bout?” Applejack asked. “I ain’t moved since ya got in tha Cannon.” Rainbow might well have ignited the Cannon on her own with the force of the frustration building in her.
“PINKIE PIE!” she bellowed, more upset that she could use neither her wings nor legs to truly express herself.
“What?” Pinkie asked jovially as the movement of the Cannon immediately stopped. “Does something feel wrong in there?”
“No,” Rainbow growled, “I just want you to stop moving me around. I thought I was going to hurl!”
“Oh,” Pinkie giggled, “sorry about that.”
“Uh-huh. Sure you are,” Rainbow grumbled.
“I thank I’ve got ourselves a nice line o’ sight,” Applejack declared triumphantly before Pinkie could reply. “Bring ‘er here Pinkie.” Rainbow was unceremoniously turned a full ninety degrees, Applejack’s hooves just leaving her line of vision. The difference in Applejack’s control was drastic as she adjusted inch by inch to the perfect angle. Rainbow Dash could feel the smirk of confidence growing across her face as she watched the gap above the northern spike come into proper range. “Howya feel ‘bout that?” Applejack asked, making a few more minor alterations.
“Looks great from my end,” Rainbow said stoutly. “If we’re going to do this, might as well light it now.”
“Ooh ooh ooh!” she could hear Pinkie jumping up and down with excitement. “Let me do it! Please!”
“It’s yar Cannon,” Applejack said. “I wouldn’ know how ta light one anyhow.”
“Ready Rainbow Dash!?” Pinkie asked, now behind the Cannon by the sound of her voice.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Rainbow replied, tensing in preparation.
“Three...!” Pinkie shouted. “Two...!” Rainbow was steeling herself for the inevitable shock. “One...!” There was no turning back now, but Rainbow was used to flying headlong into challenges.
“FIRE!” Pinkie hollered, but much of her voice was lost in the explosion of the cannon as Rainbow rocketed into empty space. She resisted tears from a pinching burn on her flanks and hind legs, managing to open her wings and throw out her forelegs int proper gliding form. Ponyville surged by below her as the menacing whistle of the spike energy took the place of the rushing wind. The moment she came close the vessel, Rainbow could feel herself no longer flying under her own power, but only by the force of her launch. With no way to aim properly, she realized with widened eyes that she was headed directly for the planks above the opening. She shut her eyes tightly, clapped her wings to her sides, and curled into a ball. She was just in time. Her back crashed against solid wood, luckily with enough force to break her through with a baritone crack. However, she was unable to stay curled up and let out a cry of pain as her body piled up within the darkness of the vessel along with the shattered splinters of the plank.
Rainbow groaned as she stood, stumbling slightly from what was likely a concussion. The desire to shake her head to clear it was overwhelming, but experience with crashes had taught her that doing so only worsened one’s headache. Instead, she attempted to focus her blurry vision on anything around her. This was far more difficult than she anticipated; for the ship was not only dimly lit, but lacking in any defining features she could latch onto for clarity. Nevertheless, Rainbow found her sense returning to her the more she adjusted to her new surroundings. The first thing she noticed was the incessant, pervading, unnatural hum seeming to emanate from all around her. She turned her head in every direction, hoping to get an idea of its true source. This helped not in the slightest, but it did cause her to see the rear end of the spike for the first time. Its end was completely flat, the brass shined to the point of seeming to give off its own light. However, this flatness was concealed in part by the myriad of randomly placed, slack brass chains leading from the end into two central gaps in the floor on either side. The links themselves reminded Rainbow of the links in a fancy watch, but more tubular. The spike itself was suspended from the ceiling by actual chains of iron. These too vanished into another deck of the ship, but judging by the tracks they rested within, they were likely designed to pull the spike inside or push it out.
Rainbow decided that the brass chains leading into the floor were connected to the subtly menacing hum, and that their origin should be her objective. She was incredibly lucky, she knew, but to be so close to the source of the ship’s power was even more than she had bargained for. She took two steps toward the only hall she could see that led out of this room before stopping. It was tempting, so tempting, to try to find the power source so that she might wreak havoc on the allicorn mare’s plan; but she was stopped by the original purpose of coming aboard: finding Twilight. That, and she remembered Applejack’s warning about the place more than likely being booby trapped. If she was indeed standing above the ship’s power source, no doubt it was the most heavily guarded. So as she continued to step lightly toward the next hall—the lack of feeling in her wings becoming more and more prominent in her mind—she made a conscious and difficult effort to look for stairs that led up, not down.
Upon coming into the hall, she was nearly blinded by the level of light shining throughout it. She looked back to the opening she had just passed through, and jumped away with a startled yelp. There was no opening, only a blank wall of wood. She blinked several times to be sure she was not just hallucinating after the concussion, but the wall remained blank. Narrowing her eyes, Rainbow shoved her hoof at the supposed ‘wall’. As she suspected, it passed right through; giving off a sickly green glow where she was contacting the magical disguise. So even when she is able to use magic, it sucks, Rainbow thought pleasurably.
That distraction now dealt with, Rainbow was able to examine the hall in which she now stood. It was lit quite well by brass fixtures giving off an odd light, and these illuminated more wooden walls and more convoluted brass fixtures. Ugh, Rainbow thought, disgusted, this is like some old-granny’s place. No personality. She began the trek down the corridor, expecting to come across some kind of door or stairwell. But after more than five minutes of walking, taking turns both left and right into passageways that appeared identical, Rainbow began to be irritated. What was the point of a hall if it didn’t have rooms leading off it? Five more minutes of mindless stepping on wood and Rainbow began to become seriously concerned for her own sanity and safety. Perhaps the mare was not so inept with magic as she had initially thought, and the many corridors were really just the same one over and over again. It was not impossible that the mare had fields guarding her ship that could cause any intruder to simply loop around and around for infinity.
So potent was this idea that Rainbow stopped in her tracks. She peered around at the monotone hall, looking for any indication that she might under the power of magic. Nothing other than the inanimate brass fixtures showed any promise. But one thing was enough. Only one good way to find out, Rainbow steeled herself, preparing to buck the nearest ornament. With a solid kick, she smashed her hoof against the feature, eliciting a ringing clang. She turned to inspect her handiwork, but before her eyes could take it in, her ears heard the dangerous whining. Instinct pushed her into a dive away from the device just in time to avoid a light spray of water accompanied by the sound of crackling, discharging energy. This contradiction prompted her to gaze back in confusion, and she bore witness to the brass fixture spewing light droplets like a garden decoration. But just as true was the screeching of the discharging energy.
Allowing the water to soak her body, Rainbow leaned up to peer within the hole her kick had made around the broken device. Within the wood rested a neat brass cylinder—etched with some strange letters—pink sparks flying over its surface from the crumpled end connected to the device outside. It was bizarre to Rainbow, and it was undeniably magic. Only, it was not of the kind she had been expecting. Judging by the water, she had just damaged a fire extinguisher.
Her fears were beginning to seem irrational and stupid now, and she was about to smack herself for such worry-wart behavior unbecoming of a pegasus of her caliber; when a soft scraping noise echoed behind her. After being in the silence of her own breath and hoofsteps for so long, the sound was like a beacon to her ears. Rainbow whipped around, bent low and ready for a fight. She was glad she was. Before her was an undeniable Changeling: pockmarked and black with solid blue eyes and a spiked body. It was emerging from an opening that had not been in the corridor the last time Rainbow had looked carrying a larger brass cylinder on its back. It and Rainbow saw one another at the exact same time, and both reacted the same way. Their eyes narrowed at one another; Rainbow smirked, the Changeling growled; and they both leapt with war cries at each other.
Even without her wings, Rainbow was faster with her hoof. She landed a solid blow to the Changeling’s chest, sending it crashing down with Rainbow not far behind. But the Changeling was no stranger to fighting it seemed. Before Rainbow could land atop it, the creature rolled away; coming back up and charging with its horn lowered. With grace born of a life in the clouds, Rainbow sidestepped and stuck out her her hind leg; tripping the Changeling into a dive. It screeched as it’s face impacted the wood and Rainbow pounced. This time she was fast enough, pinning the Changeling to the floor. But just as soon as she believed herself to be the victor, the shape-shifter turned and bit her leg. It’s fangs pierced Rainbow’s skin, and she reared back with a cry of pain. A green liquid painted her cyan fur around the bite, but she couldn’t worry about that for now. The Changeling was swinging its hoof, and Rainbow reacted on instinct. She ducked—the blow whipping the air around her mane—and lashed out with her own hoof. She had not meant to, but her blow broke straight through the Changeling’s hide, oozing green fluids. With disgust and shock, Rainbow yanked her gut-coated hoof out of the creature’s chest. It fell to the ground with a gurgling moan, dead with its blood leaking out onto the wood.
An emotion stronger than fear surged through Rainbow then. She had never killed anything before, let alone done it so directly. She had no guilt. It was a Changeling. But the simple act of taking its life was leaving her feeling drained and shell-shocked. She stared for the longest time at its broken body, but finally common sense began to ease its way back into her mind. She had to run. She had to escape. She was lucky to be alive. She was in the heart of the enemy’s stronghold, and if she pushed her luck any longer, she would likely never see Ponyville, Cloudsdale, or any of her friends ever again. She had to believe that Twilight’s own strength in magic would keep her safe, and that the allicorn’s desire for a facade would make sure she returned unharmed. So even if she had not found Twilight, nor stopped the allicorn by any means; Rainbow Dash had at least discovered something. The allicorn mare was twisted beyond comprehension to align herself with those creatures, and there was no way in Tartarus that she could be trusted or allowed to stay within Ponyville any longer.
Celestia was pacing up to her throne, down the stairs to the end of the hall, and back again. Her usual guards were not present. It would be beyond catastrophic if word spread that the Princess of the Sun was disheveled. Even Celestia herself likely wished it were not true. “Quit pacing,” Luna, her sister and Princess of the Night, said. “Thou art accomplishing nothing doing thus. Sit, organize thy thoughts, and speaketh aloud about whatever bothereth thou.” It was sound advice, but Celestia clearly believed that sitting and doing nothing more than thinking was a crime in and of itself at the moment.
“I can’t Luna,” Celestia replied.
“Cannot what?” Luna asked probingly. “Canst not sit, canst not think, or canst not speak of it?”
“All three,” Celestia said, losing a bit of calm. “This is the way I sort out my next move when trouble has risen.”
“Oh, yes, and it hath always worked well hath it not?” Luna asked sarcastically. “If I remembereth correctly, thy answer to most of the major Equestrian problems of late hath been those ponies that now represent the Elements of Harmony.”
“And so what if they have?” Celestia fired back. “Their skills and powers have always been able to save us. It’s not my fault that all of our foes have been vulnerable to the Elements.”
“Oh, wouldst thou please cease from using that horrid, vulgar dialect,” Luna said. “Tryest to speak more properly.”
“My speech is the least of our problems,” Celestia glowered at her sister.
“It is not to us,” Luna replied frustrated, “since thou refuseth to tell us what is bothering thou so.”
“Your friend from so long ago is gone!” Celestia cracked, the concern bleeding from her expression.
“Yes, thou needst not remind us that all those we knew art dead,” Luna said lowly, hanging her head.
“No, your close friend is escaped! I have no idea how she has done it, or what she wants. She hasn’t made any demands,” Celestia attempted to explain.
“Oh! Wouldst thou please ceaseth from using those awful contractions!” Luna insisted. “And we still knoweth not of whom thou art speaking.”
“Aurora! Aurora Streak has disappeared from her land of exile!” Celestia was now nearly shouting directly in Luna’s face.
“We were not aware thou hadst cast her out in first place,” Luna said mildly, pointedly motioning for her sister to back away. “Why didst thou?” Celestia was not normally one to give into sarcasm, either in words or appearance (that was Luna’s own domain when they were together), but Luna’s comment caused her sister to raise her brows in cynical disbelief.
“Well, that wast a mistake, and as she told us, ‘Mistakes are often made in new fields of research.’,” Luna defended herself.
“It was the largest mistake Equestria has ever seen!” Celestia was beginning to shout again. “And even after a thousand years, ponies across the land still have fear because of it.”
“It is ‘one thousand’, not ‘a thousand’, sister,” Luna corrected. “But even if it wast a grand error on her part, we were the only subject. Nopony else wast harmed by her directly.”
“She lied to you and to me when she told us that she was not testing on other ponies,” Celestia said lowly, bowing her head. “When we finally arrested her, we discovered her notes on other subjects. They had not had the full procedure like you, but she had been experimenting on at least twenty other ponies beforehand.”
“Oh...” was all Luna could say.
“Exactly,” Celestia continued. “And she’s escaped with who knows what and we won’t know the details until her guards have returned safely with the rescue team.”
“But surely she wilt stay away from that field after what transpired,” Luna said.
“I am sure she will,” Celestia said, “but my worry is for the Elements of Harmony. I remember a lot of what her notes said, and more than a few of those six are enough of an enigma to reignite her interest. And now she has trapped them all within Ponyville and I have not the slightest idea on how to save them.” Luna’s sister exchanged pacing to gaze out one of the stained glass windows pointing toward Ponyville. Though the colors of the land and sky were distorted by its many hues, the pink sphere of magical power now guarding Ponyville glared brightly through every pane.
Luna grimaced at her sister’s extended use of contractions, but said nothing of it. It did indeed seem trivial now that she knew the full extent of Celestia’s worry. Instead, she spoke, “It wouldst not surprise us if that were indeed the case, but thou canst not continue to handle this alone. An aurora is the power of the sun reflected in the night, so she is a responsibility for us both. Let us help, and this will be over with greater haste.”
“Thank you,” Celestia said, “I should have done as much in the first place.”
“Then let us make thee a suggestion,” Luna pressed. Celestia nodded her approval and Luna continued, “We knowest Aurora is stubborn and spiteful, and she wilt not listen to reason when set upon her goal, especially by us and thee. As much as it pains our heart to suggest this, we must pressure her into speaking with us.”
“How do you want to go about it Luna?” Celestia asked. “You do know her better than me after all.”
“We must assembleth the old Armies of the Sun and Moon, and march before her,” Luna replied gravely. “She wilt only submit to respectable negotiations if she hath already been beaten in power.”
“I can see why you were worried about his now,” Celestia said stoutly, “but as no other course of action has presented itself to me, I must do something. Send out the call for all of your generals to assemble their forces and to meet at Canterlot. I will do the same with mine. Please inform them of the situation though. If this is to succeed, the last thing we need is our soldiers attempting to start another war between us.”
“Thy concerns are duly noted sister,” Luna said. “Shall we meet again tonight after I have raised the Moon?”
“It would be as good a time as ever,” Celestia replied. “May we both have luck on our side.” Luna nodded her agreement before exiting to the Royal Balcony and leaping into the sky for her own keeps across Equestria. ______________________________________________________________________________
Twilight was not a pony for dramatics. That was everypony else’s domain, except for perhaps Applejack. But as her eyes were finally able to greet the lush and fresh scenery of Ponyville, she breathed in a great, theatrical rush of green-scented air. The lift was taking her back to her home on the ground, and she had never thought she would be more grateful for the town. With that love though came a strong desire for its safety. While Aurora’s magical invention did not seem to have an evil or ulterior purpose, its creator most certainly did. Aurora knew too much for her eyes to not be set upon something larger than the simple improvement of pony lives.
With her gathering distance from the ship, Twilight gradually allowed herself to become acquainted with her magic once again, and with that resurgence of power, she burst into a full gallop for the library. Any of her friends would be waiting there for her, and it was them—her fellow Elements of Harmony—that she could trust implicitly with her revelations. Twilight considered it odd that nopony else was waiting for her, or at least had come out to greet her, but likely they were still fearful of the ship and anything that emerged from it.
This was proved false as a worried shout from behind prompted a break in what had only just become a gallop. Twilight whipped around, only to be confronted with the mayor of Ponyville; her normally complacent face marked by serious concern for what Twilight might tell her. “Twilight Sparkle,” she said, coming down from the Town Hall, “I know you must be eager to confide in your friends. Anypony would be. But, since Aurora chose you as ambassador for us, I need to know what her demands were.” It struck Twilight then that Aurora’s tactful abilities—at least in the area of social relations—were sorely lacking. Taking the time to view the whole set of events as a normal pony rather than an Element of Harmony and student of Celestia, and Twilight could easily see how it appeared to be a hostage situation.
“You shouldn’t worry about demands, Mayor,” Twilight said respectfully. “I don’t trust Aurora herself, but she is not interested in making demands.”
“Then why place a field nopony can escape around the town?” the mayor asked legitimately.
“It’s only a theory,” Twilight ventured carefully, “but I think she might be afraid of the princesses for some reason. I don’t think she wants to hurt us, I just don’t think she wants Celestia alerted by us. She really didn’t tell me what she intends to do here, but she will be performing a demonstration tomorrow. For the sake of appearances, I’d suggest spreading the word that everypony should intend. I’ll do my best to work this out, but I can’t have her becoming paranoid before I’m finished.”
“Consider it done Twilight Sparkle,” the mayor replied with a nod. “This will at least calm some ponies down. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Twilight nodded, breaking off again and hoping to not be interrupted again before she reached the library. As she approached a turn onto the library’s street, she slammed right into somepony. Twilight was jolted back onto her rump, and both she and her unfortunate victim let out small grunts of bruising. Twilight shook her head to clear it of a little dizziness, immediately checking on the state of her dress. Rarity might be understanding if it was damaged, but the chances were rather slim. Before Twilight could turn to face the pony she had run into, they said with relieved shock and joy, “Twilight!” She knew that voice. Her head whipped around to behold her dragon charge. Spike’s eyes were as wide as they possibly could be, and he was staring at Twilight as if she were Celestia. “You’re okay!” he exploded, running forward to embrace her.
“Yes, I’m just fine,” Twilight chuckled gratefully, glad to be back within the loving atmosphere of friends. “How are you and everypony else?”
“I’m doin’ great now that you’re back,” Spike said. “That was shorter than I thought it’d be.”
“You’re telling me,” Twilight said, mentally exhausted. “It was more than enough to convince me of what we need to do though.”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Spike replied, picking up on her undertone of apprehension.
“It’s not,” Twilight said briefly. “We need to talk in the library. Do you know where everypony else is?”
“I just came from Rarity’s” Spike answered. “She should be there. I’ve got no idea where Pinkie and the rest are.”
“That’s fine,” Twilight said, feeling almost rushed. “They might actually be at the library waiting on me. If you could go and bring Rarity there, that would be great.”
“Okay, but, what’s goin’ on Twilight?” Spike said.
“It’s complicated,” she replied, not wanting to say too much out in the open. “All I’ll say out here is that we have to be careful.”
“Hm,” Spike grunted, his eyes narrowing as they always did when he was in deep thought. “How much trouble are we in Twilight?” he eventually asked.
“I don’t want to say out in the open,” Twilight whispered in his ear. “I promise I’ll explain back at the library.”
“Things aren’t good are they?” Spike read her easily. Twilight merely nodded her head in reply, continuing to her home at a trot. As she moved toward the homely library she had come to consider her place of solace, she was both grateful and slightly hurt that no pony was gathered before it to welcome her back. Of course, it would make gathering her friends together for a rather clandestine meeting that much easier. However, the lack of ponies wanting to wish her well and know the details of her visit to the ship created the feeling that Ponyville cared no more for her. She angrily brushed this sentiment aside as selfish and ridiculous. Maybe it was simply her lack of contact with her close friends that was dampening her spirits. Yes, that must be it, for the very thought of being able to talk with them about her experience with Aurora and Inky Jay brought a measure of relief to her soul. She wondered how anypony could internalize so much; how they could not want to find solace in their friends.
A light touch of magic opened the door to the library, which she had expected to be empty for the time being. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of Applejack sitting quietly in a corner staring fixedly at the floor while Pinkie Pie paced across the middle of the center of the room nervously chatting to herself. Her voice was so hushed and fast-paced, Twilight could decipher none of it. Applejack was the first to notice Twilight’s entrance. “Twi!” she shouted, astounded and thrilled to see her. In a moment, her expression of relief shifted to one of serious alarm. “Pinkie!” she exclaimed, still gazing at Twilight. “We got ourselves a problem!”
“Problem! What?! Where!? Is Dashie okay!?” Pinkie exploded from her pacing, questioning Applejack with a dangerous intensity.
“Twilight’s back and Dash ain’t,” Applejack said seriously, pointing Pinkie to Twilight, who was still standing bewildered in the entrance.
“Wait, what is going on here?” Twilight asked, irritated. “What is happening with Rainbow Dash?”
“Well...” Applejack said slowly and reluctantly.
“Gahhhh!” Pinkie interrupted upon seeing Twilight. “This is bad! This is really bad!” Rather than try to garner any more information from Pinkie or Applejack with words—which likely would not have worked with Pinkie Pie anyway—she glared solidly at the two of them. Pinkie backed up to stand right beside Applejack, and when she did not speak, nudged her significantly with her back leg.
Applejack breathed out defeatedly, it clear she would rather not speak, “After Dash found out tha’ ya would be goin’ up inta tha thingamajig, she asked me an’ Big Mac ta help her get in ta help ya.” Twilight’s look of irritation at being left out immediately melted. Just before she had been lamenting the lack of support from everypony, and here now was a prime example of why she should not doubt her friends. “On such short notice, me an’ Big Mac weren’ able to make tha catapult she wanted.”
“So I gave everypony my Party Cannon!” Pinkie cut in, enthusiastic and proud of her apparent ingenuity.
“Um, that doesn’t make any sense Pinkie,” Twilight said, only realizing after how normal that was.
“Of course it does!” Pinkie retorted, frustrated that Twilight was not grasping the relevance. “How else would we fling Dashie up into the ship?”
“You what!?” Twilight burst out, now aware of why both of her friends were so concerned. If Rainbow had been trying to find her, she would not now, and Aurora did not seem like a pony to take trespassers lightly. Especially since she already knew Rainbow and had a general dislike of her. “You should have told me!” Twilight stressed, rushing around the library as quickly as the dress would allow. “We could have set up a meet time or something. Aurora—that’s her name—let me go unattended to the exit. I could have tried to pick her up or something.”
“Twi, stop killin’ yerself over it,” Applejack said, holding out a hoof to stop her frantic movement. “You don’ know tha inside o’ tha’ thang any more ‘n Rainbow Dash does.”
“But she’s still stuck up there probably looking for me,” Twilight said, ducking beneath Applejack’s hoof. “If Aurora finds her... I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Oh man Dashie,” Pinkie said, returning to pacing to burn off her nervous energy. It was not long after Twilight had gathered all of her ingredients onto one of her work benches that Spike, Rarity, and Fluttershy entered. Their eyes were immediately drawn to the pacing Pinkie Pie.
“I’m glad you managed to find everypony else,” Spike said awkwardly, “but what in Celestia’s name is Pinkie doing?”
“Are you okay Pinkie?” Fluttershy asked.
“Twilight dear, it’s relieving to see you in good health after coming off that dreadful piece of filth,” Rarity completely ignored Pinkie, taking her pacing for nothing more than the usual oddity of Pinkie’s bearing.
“Rainbow Dash is going to die!” Pinkie answered Fluttershy and Spike boisterously before Twilight could reply to Rarity. Both Fluttershy and Rarity gasped in shock, but Spike and Twilight shared a knowing look that prevented him from reacting.
“I think Aurora—the allicorn—would sooner capture her,” Twilight consoled Pinkie and her new rapt audience of two. “Would you mind explaining Applejack? I can’t talk and make this stuff at the same time.”
“What is it you’re making?” Spike asked inquisitively, leaning up to see the book she had laid open beside her vials and jars.
“A puffing powder,” Twilight said simply. “Don’t talk to me.” She ever so gently knocked a portion of an odd orange, grainy powder into a mortar, adding a purple liquid to it before beginning to grind it with the pestle. Fluttershy and Rarity were now beginning to calm down; well, at least Rarity was more composed. Fluttershy was now shaking from the idea of Rainbow being stuck on the ship with Aurora rather than being dead.
“Whatever gave her that completely ridiculous idea?” Rarity asked Applejack once she had finished.
“I got no idear,” Applejack answered with a wave of a hoof. “But it woulda been nice for Twilight ta have some company. Right Twi?”
“Hm, um, yes it would have,” Twilight answered absently, not even entirely sure what the question had been.
“It was supposed ta be quick an’ easy,” Applejack continued to Rarity’s still unconvinced expression. “In an’ out. This warn’t ever supposed ta happen. An’ she woulda done it anyhow. Better tha’ I was there to keep ‘em from killin’ themselves in tha process.”
“I suppose,” Rarity moved to the back of the library with Applejack, “but she should never have thought she could do something like this in the first place.”
“But... Rainbow Dash really doesn’t... um... you know... think... before she does something,” Fluttershy said, doing her best to not sound offensive.
“Well of course she doesn’t think before doing something silly,” Pinkie said to Fluttershy. “I don’t either! Look how similar we are!” Pinkie stood in a dramatic pose, attempting and failing to replicate Rainbow Dash’s charisma.
“Pinkie Pie, I really don’t think you two are anything alike,” Rarity said kindly.
“I’m almost done here,” Twilight said to the room at large. “Everypony quiet while I—!” She and Rarity both yelped as the window on the second floor exploded in a flying storm of glass. Fluttershy slid beneath the table, but both Applejack and Pinkie Pie burst into exclamation for a different reason. They rushed up the stairs to Rainbow Dash, who was collapsed with heaving breath on the second floor. Twilight recovered before her other two friends. Checking that her concoction was still stable, she left the bench to check on Rainbow’s condition.
Spike followed her, but was forced to slow as his scales allowed him to mindlessly crunch broken glass beneath his feet. Applejack and Pinkie were just supporting Rainbow into standing when Twilight came to the top of the stairs, and Twilight involuntarily recoiled at the sight of the sky-blue pegasus. Twilight had of course seen Rainbow after a crash or some other failed endeavor, and her present appearance was significantly better than those other instances. There was something debilitated about Rainbow’s face and body. She seemed to have lost all energy of any kind. Her face particularly was drained of its normal enthusiasm: her eyes were half-lidded, her mouth was thin, and her ears were drooping. Only after recovering from the initial hesitation at her friend’s appearance did Twilight begin to observe the obtrusive details. Rainbow’s front right hoof was coated in a semi-dry green viscous slime and her left front hoof was marked by two nearly invisible, evenly placed puncture marks.
“Sweet Celestia!” Rarity exclaimed upon coming up next to Twilight. “Rainbow Dash dear, what is the matter?”
“Outa tha way Rarity!” Applejack said forcefully, shoving past the two of them to help Pinkie carry Rainbow Dash downstairs. They heaved their nearly unconscious friend onto the reading sofa, Twilight moving in close to more carefully examine the puncture wounds.
“Can you talk Rainbow Dash? Can you hear me?” Twilight asked tentatively. Rainbow eyes only dilated freakishly before settling back to normal.
“Is she gonna be okay?!” Pinkie asked, shaking from anxiety and the inability to do nothing for Rainbow.
“I can’t be sure,” Twilight said. “Fluttershy, I need your help.”
“Yo... you... do?” Fluttershy asked nervously, peeking her head out from beneath the work bench.
“Yes,” Twilight said, emotionless. Rainbow’s condition was rapidly deteriorating from whatever toxin had been injected into her, and—judging by the marks—an animal of some kind had been the culprit. Among the five of them, Fluttershy was the most knowledgeable of animals and their traits. “Rarity, can you get me out of this dress while Fluttershy and I work?”
“Of course dear,” Rarity said, her voice strained from the tension gathering in the library. With Rarity’s expert manipulation of the fabric under magic, Twilight barely felt the clothes slip away as Fluttershy timidly joined her beside Rainbow.
“Can you tell me what kind of creature would make marks like that?” Twilight asked, pointing her hoof towards the wounds. Fluttershy, along with Applejack and Pinkie, knelt closer to better see the shape of the punctures.
“Goshgeewillikers!” Applejack said, astounded. “I hadn’ notiece ‘em until now!”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Pinkie agreed. “There aren’t any animals on that thingy.”
“There might be,” Twilight corrected her. “It is so much bigger on the inside than it even is on the outside.”
“These bites didn’t come from an animal,” Fluttershy said softly; too soft for any of them to hear.
“Say ‘gain,” Applejack spoke for them all.
“She wasn’t bitten by any animal I know,” Fluttershy repeated, more audible this time. “A snake bite is bigger and farther apart,” she elaborated, encouraged by their eager faces. “These look familiar for some reason, but, oh, I just can’t place them.”
“Hive...” Rainbow wheezed, her eyes dilating momentarily once again. Only, once the pupils had returned to their normal size, the iris was beginning to fade from magenta to sky blue.
“Surely not!” Rarity burst out, being the first to make the vague connection.
“It can’t be them,” Twilight murmured her assent.
“I think their snouts are narrow enough...” Fluttershy said, though she halted when she realized just exactly what she was implying. “But it could be... well... I don’t want to think...”
“Spike, my notes,” Twilight said, turning to her dragon charge; who up until then had been clamoring vainly to see around his pony friends.
“And that isn’t unhelpful at all,” he replied irritably.
“The ones on the Changelings that Celestia sent me,” Twilight elaborated after Spike waved his hands for more directions. His retrieval was rather quick, as the notes in question happened to be at the top of the stack of paper that was Twilight’s records. He offered them up as a set, but Twilight was concerned only with a single page. She swiftly yanked out a folded page in the middle of the unbound notebook with her magic. Brought before everypony’s eyes, she opened it to reveal images of ponies who had been assaulted by the Changelings. Many of the pictures were gritty in their depictions of bruises and magic burns, but a goodly portion showed multiple bites on many of the ponies. They were identical to those on Rainbow Dash.
“We’ll talk about what this means later,” Twilight said rapidly. “Right now I’m going to need everypony’s help to make the antidote. If we don’t do it in time, she might assimilate.” Her voice was hard-edged with the dire urgency of the situation, and each of her friends took immediate action. Rarity, Fluttershy, and Spike began sorting through the newer library books for the recipe; Pinkie aided Twilight in organizing her beakers and mixers, and Applejack sorted through Twilight’s potions cabinet as ingredients and directions were shouted across the room. Although first appearing chaotic, they all quickly settled into a rhythm to concoct the complex and fickle antidote.
Judging by the blue tint in Rainbow’s eyes by the time Rarity gingerly administered the syrupy violet liquid, they had barely finished in time. Massaging Rainbow’s throat with magic to force her to swallow, Rarity and the rest leapt back with collective gasps as Rainbow’s breathing returned to normal with an accompanying fit of coughing. She leaned heavily over the side of the sofa, vomiting a small amount of the antidote. “What the hay was that?” she asked upon wiping her mouth with a hoof.
“An antidote to keep you from becoming a Changeling,” Twilight said. “We all thought you had been bitten. Is that where the bite marks and that dried goopy stuff came from?”
“Is Aurora really using... Changelings...?” Fluttershy asked, shaking at the word alone. Twilight had been expecting to Rainbow to regain most of her energy immediately; if not outright jump into the air and declare war on Aurora. But exactly the opposite happened. Rainbow’s eyes journeyed to her slime-coated hoof, lingering there for a worrisome amount of time. Applejack was about to say something—likely some blunt quip—but was stopped short as Rainbow’s eyes began to quiver. Uncharacteristic tears began to run down her face; a deeper emotion leaking through them.
“Why did it have to happen that way?” she asked herself and to the room at large. Her tears added no waver to her voice, but there was a clear note of somepony recently shaken to their core.
“What happened exactly Rainbow dear?” Rarity approached her softly.
“Yeah, its okay Rainbow. You can tell us,” Spike added, for once not attempting to charm Rarity; instead genuinely concerned for Rainbow Dash.
“I swear I didn’t do it on purpose!” Rainbow looked up finally, her eyes pleading. “And it was only a Changeling, so it doesn’t really matter right?”
“You have to start from the beginning,” Twilight said, only slightly confused. Her analytical mind was starting to piece together the events that would leave the stalwart Rainbow Dash in this state. “We can’t help if we you don’t.”
“It came out of nowhere,” Rainbow said, wiping away her tears with her clean hoof. “What else could I do? I attacked it.”
“The Changeling?” Pinkie asked, the only one in the room who had not yet grasped this.
“Duh,” Rainbow said, though the lack of normal swagger made it sound hollow. “It put up a good fight, and probably would have eaten me, but I... I... I punched it in the chest. It... broke open. My hoof went right through. I didn’t mean it to do that, but I... I killed it.” So that was it. Rainbow Dash had killed the Changeling, and the truth of the act was still sinking in.
“But it was just a Changeling,” Twilight offered the best consolation she could come up with. “If you hadn’t, it might have gotten you.”
“That’s the problem!” Rainbow exploded in her friend’s faces. “I shouldn’t feel like this! Why!?” Her friends all took several steps back. None of them had the answer, as none of them had ever killed a creature before, and the most they could do now was give Rainbow room to vent.
She’s a tough mare, Twilight assured herself. She’ll make it through. But this did not appear to be the case. Rainbow returned to silently and tearily staring at her organ-mucked hoof. Of Rainbow’s friends, Pinkie seemed to be the least affected by her outburst. She plopped herself comfortably beside Rainbow on the sofa, a wide grin on her face.
“You’ll be okay Dashie!” she said cheerily. “We just to need to wash that hoof, then get you laughing again! Laughing and parties cure everything!”
“No Pinkie!” Rainbow shouted at her, causing the cotton-candy pony to lean back in shock. “None of you understand!” she bellowed at the rest of them from the air. “I killed it! Why is that torturing me like this?! WRAH!” Rainbow Dash sped out the library door, shooting skyward before Twilight or any of the others could call her back.
“Why is Dashie being so mean?” Pinkie sniffled, unaccustomed to her friends rejecting her preferred panacea.
“She’s confused Pinkie,” Applejack reassured her. “Confused and scared. I wish I knew what ta say to ‘er.”
“Maybe she is distraught,” Twilight said grimly, “but Rainbow Dash would be the last pony to refuse help from us in a situation like this. Something about that ship is randomly interfering with the Elements. And I think I know somepony who could tell us how.” ______________________________________________________________________________
The sun and moon were both being grasped by magic, which could only mean that Celestia and Luna were bringing upon the next phase of the eternal cyclical pattern of night and day. Chrysalis—for some time now—had been forced to rely upon her own senses of the magic employed by Luna and Celestia to determine whether it was night or day. The House of a Thousand Fangs remained in perpetual half light throughout all hours; unless of course there was a malfunction of the lighting system like yesterday. Chrysalis was inwardly grateful for her age and attunement to magic that came with it. Without this time given gift, she would be unable to tell when to give the call for her children to change from the day to night shift. They lived underground for the most part in their homeland, but even in such darkness, there was a natural change in the atmosphere as day became night. The beautiful inventions of nature such as this could not be felt aboard the dead wood and cold metal of Aurora Streak’s ship.
Once Chrysalis felt the powerful Princess’s magic fade from the air, she activated her own pockmarked and twisted horn. Its green glow only colored her own face, its effect lost to that given off by Aurora’s magical lights. The spell was simple and subtle, and one that was normally used to wake and put to sleep baby Changelings in the first years of their lives. Used by Chrysalis and with a few modifications, it instigated a flurry of activity. Her children could be heard moving all throughout the ship to obey her command. The scuttling sounds of their hooves against the wood grain brought a pleasant smile to Chrysalis’s face. They were so much happier and more energetic—even in the mundane tasks Aurora would set to them—with the love in Ponyville to carefully feed upon. For so long after leaving the Badlands, Chrysalis had been forced to feed her elect entourage with love she herself had absorbed from Inky Jay and Aurora Streak. The whimsical Inky Jay had not known, for she absorbed the power while he slept. In Chrysalis’s own, far-reaching, opinion, his love was of the worst kind a Changeling could feed upon. He adored literature. To her, it seemed so tasteless and monochromatic; the sort of love that was only desirable when ignited by its source. It was a dormant love: one without the all-consuming power like she had tasted within Cadance and Shining Armor.
Aurora had been little better. Her love was equally stale, tied as it was to her work and, oddly, machines. The only advantage to Aurora’s love was that she allowed Chrysalis to feed on it while she worked, giving it greater potency. This so happened to be the sole reason Chrysalis respected Aurora. To put so much trust in another being that might easily turn on one was either total naivety or complete confidence in one’s power. Aurora was no naive pony, so Chrysalis understood her to be confident in her creations, just as Chrysalis was herself confident in her children. Through this—and only this—did Chrysalis deign to work for her.
As she made her way down the halls toward Aurora’s most frequented and largest lab—the one she had ordered be given even greater security than was already present in the doors—Chrysalis made a conscious mental shove to clear her head of those other thoughts. Why had Aurora chosen to lead their negotiations with those revelations? All it would have taken for an alliance would have been the demonstration Aurora had given afterwards. And why was Chrysalis tortured by the idea that her people were not of this world like its other denizens? Why did they have to be the sad results of one of Aurora’s early failed experiments?
Clearly Aurora had meant the information as leverage, but Chrysalis stoutly refused to be moved by it. Even if Aurora was their true mother, not the legendary Faust, it still made them no less than any other species in the world. But perhaps it did. No, those thoughts were only seeds of doubt she had to squelch like one of her aberrant children. The Changelings were a noble and proud people, and Chrysalis would not see them brought low by something so insignificant, especially after they survived their defeat in Canterlot. As warding away these persistently negative thoughts was failing by the conventional means, she latched onto the one idea she had formed not so long after hearing Aurora’s account. The allicorn had been very vague in that tale, leading Chrysalis to believe there was something about the experiment she was withholding. It was not a perfect solution to her raging hurricane of thoughts, but it shielded her from them for the time being.
So caught up in her contemplations was Chrysalis, that she almost stepped on Inky Jay. He was emerging from a room that led to a staircase which thereafter led down into a section of the ship for a crew quarters. He was actually wearing clothes, which struck Chrysalis as odd. She was not aware the pony owned anything save his many, many notebooks and pencils and pens. His attire was also not exactly what she had expected the writer to don for any occasion. He was in a snow white jacket, hood covering his mop of tangled hair, but allowing his light maroon ears to stick through. He had also gone through the trouble to brush his mane, turning it from an erratic trail of hair into a less-erratic trail of hair. The most his effort seemed to have was to eliminate the frizz that usually accompanied his mane and tail. “What are you doing out as late as this?” Chrysalis asked imperiously, wanting to be the first to have words in what would likely end as shortly as all their other conversations. “You are usually so eager to return to that simpleton’s trade with the pen.”
Inky Jay’s heartfelt glare was lovely to behold, for it ignited his passion for the written word. The opportunity to feed was tempting, but Chrysalis contented herself with simply confirming that the power was indeed there. “I’m not one of those insects you lord over Chrysalis,” Inky Jay said smoothly. “I am, despite what you seem to think, my own pony, and I require at least some respect for it.”
“You might require it young pony,” Chrysalis replied in her cultured, but reverberating, tone, “but understand that you stand in the presence of a queen. I will treat you as a monarch would treat any underling.”
“You’re a queen of insects,” Inky Jay said, throwing back his hood to see her more clearly, “not one of ponies. Now move out of my way. Aurora gave me some much needed leave from the ship, and I am intending on surveying the town for good characters and locations. As late as it is, the last thing I need is your holeyness making me waste even more time and sleep.”
“You insolent brat!” Chrysalis hissed. “How dare you show such disrespect!”
“Being straightforward and being disrespectful are two very different things Chrysalis,” Inky Jay said plainly. “If you are so insecure as to be unable to tell the difference, then that is not my problem.” With a flip of his shoulders to place the hood of his jacket back over his head, Inky shoved past her. Ordinarily, Chrysalis would have struck the pegasus down with magic for his rudeness and disregard for the hierarchy of power, but due to Aurora’s constraints on her offensive magids, she was only able to swing a hoof at him. The resounding smack was not as satisfying as the flash of magic would have been, but her strength as a Changeling was more than enough to knock Inky Jay into one of the walls. He cried out—likely more from surprise than pain—and began rubbing a gingerly outstretched wing while he stood.
“May that be a lesson to you to never offend those with greater power than you,” Chrysalis said authoritatively before turning herself back in the direction of Aurora’s lab.
“I treat all equally until I have reason to do otherwise,” Inky’s voice scratched at her receding back, determined to have the last word. Chrysalis only shook her head as she rounded a corner, convinced that Inky would likely end up killing himself speaking as he did. She would not care in the slightest. His love was nothing compared to that in Ponyville and Equestria at large, and the Changelings would not miss him.
Finally coming to the door to Aurora’s lab, Chrysalis pressed her hoof against a pedal in the floor directly next to it. This precaution was now routine ever since her Changelings had installed the new security Device. She stood stock-still, allowing the tapered end of a Device to stick it’s ugly brass self out of the wood at what would be a normal pony’s eye level. It emitted a brilliant white flash with the sound of sizzling energy, momentarily blinding Chrysalis’s already sensitive eyes. She stood only a few moments longer before the Device retreated back inside the superstructure of the ship and the door to the lab opened of its own accord.
The lab was situated in the exact center of the ship, a grand expanse lit by five Devices crafted to look like chandeliers. They cast their mournful glow around a place cluttered with work tables—wooden things supported by thin iron legs—half-filled with brass and other parts or mounting perfectly ordered notebooks. The floor was at least free of obstruction, though the same could not be said of the walls. The elegant heads of Devices were scattered throughout their entirety, some for such simple purposes as communication while others were defensive weapons of some kind. Each motif of a Device indicated its purpose, but Chrysalis could only identify a few of these. On the far side of the lab were situated six inventions of some type which, while hidden by midnight blue sheets draped over them, towered to at least eight feet in height. They barely cleared the ceiling and would certainly not have fit through the door. Chrysalis had never seen what lay beneath those sheets, and she doubted Aurora would ever reveal them. She refused to even answer the most basic of questions about them. Even Inky Jay was forbidden from performing his duties as scribe when the machines were involved. Deep inside, Chrysalis hoped they were some horrible invention designed to reduce Celestia to ashes like a flower before fire. And it was not implausible, what with the seething grudge Chrysalis could feel from Aurora whenever Celestia was even tangentially mentioned.
Aurora Streak herself was at her favorite task. She was standing in the center of the room, surrounded by selected work tables. Most of them bore the many parts of Devices, though the one she currently faced was filled with three books and a seemingly random pile of old paper. She had also donned round flight goggles and jagged silver circlets with sapphire gems in their centers around her ankles. She ignored Chrysalis for the moment, pressing and holding her foot against a panel in the floor. It rotated the portion of floor she was standing upon with a whine of magic, only stopping her before her desired table when she lifted her hoof off it. With her eyes partially hidden by the goggles, Chrysalis could only guess the allicorn was inspecting the table’s contents.
“Do you know why I make my Devices so large, Chrysalis?” Aurora asked, not glancing up at the Changeling queen. “Considering that so many of the parts are so small and require so little space, why do you suppose it so that my devices are usually half the size of a pony?”
“I am in no mood to play this game Aurora,” Chrysalis said sharply. “And you never are either. You remain silent at your work, unless you request that foalish brat of a pegasus to record something.”
“Indeed you are correct Chrysalis,” Aurora said stiffly, lifting the goggles from her face with a hoof. “But you have not fed for a day now, and I am giving you the opportunity to spike my passion for your dining pleasure.”
“I and my children have no need of you or your scribe any longer,” Chrysalis said coldly. “The love within Ponyville is of the same kind that rests over all of Equestria. It is the strongest I have ever experienced, and it is far more potent than the hollow passion you possess for your machines.”
“You are becoming better at throwing out your insults,” Aurora Streak said amusedly. “You should know though, that my attention can be grasped by other means.”
“I already had your attention,” Chrysalis said flatly. “The insult was no such thing, but the truth.”
“But you meant it so,” Aurora said. “Do not lie. You are speaking to a unicorn who honed her skills from the simple taunts of a peasant, to the silk-coated daggers of a noble.”
“You are not a unicorn,” Chrysalis said evilly, latching onto Aurora’s mistake with pleasure. She had never heard the allicorn make the mistake before, but it opened up interesting possibilities about Aurora’s past.
But rather than back-step with horror at revealing so much, Aurora simply said, “Yes, I did say that. I suppose you could call it denial, but be assured, Chrysalis, it is not leverage.”
“Be that as it may,” Chrysalis said without allowing the idea to die within her, “but you are steering the conversation away from the reason for my visit.”
“And for good reason,” Aurora Streak said defiantly. “I am not interested in defending my decisions, least of all to you.”
“You are well informed,” Chrysalis admitted. “Though I should have known. We are are within your realm after all.”
“Would things be any different were I in the Changeling’s hive?” Aurora asked pointedly.
“They would not,” Chrysalis said. “But you must listen to me. Clearly you are set on making a good impression to these ponies, but you must be wary of Twilight Sparkle. She has a keen mind, and will easily see through any farce you display.”
“I know,” Aurora said, unconcerned. “Is that all you wanted? To warn me about Twilight Sparkle?”
“Yes,” Chrysalis said, posing the response as another question to coax more information out of Aurora.
“I chose her for that very reason,” Aurora Streak said. “If she truly is like my ‘benefactor’, she will have probably seen through the ruse already.”
“She is nothing like Celestia,” Chrysalis said intensely. “If anything, she is more perceptive. And why would wish for her to discover us!?”
“You misunderstand,” Aurora said simply, clearly becoming impatient with the conversation. “If my plan is to succeed, I need Twilight to doubt me. I can proceed to placate her with privileged information, which will ultimately lead to her and the others becoming obsolete. I will not reveal you, for you are only a passenger in this endeavor, much like Inky Jay. Your reward will come for easing my daily burdens. Now, if you ever question my plans again, I may very well decide to reveal you and throw you and your lot onto the streets of Ponyville. I have no qualms about destroying my first creations, especially if they choose to go against me. The created is not to oppose the creator.”
“You are every bit as insolent as your scribe!” Chrysalis growled, her temper wearing thin.
“No, Inky is merely frank,” Aurora corrected. “I am being both frank and issuing order as is my right. Do not to presume to take them for one in the same.” Chrysalis considered this would be an optimal time to leave their alliance in the dust and demand that if Aurora did not reveal more of the Changelings’ past, she would leave with her children. However, she also considered that she and she alone was responsible for placing herself in this position. She had known her pride as a monarch might be stung, and she had submitted anyway. This simple request for patience—for that really was all Aurora Streak was asking for—was only a test of her endurance. Such tests were easier when she was the one in control, but she was determined to overcome this one and be stronger for it. “Good,” Aurora said with finality, correctly interpreting Chrysalis’s silence for consent.
Chrysalis turned to leave, her resolve set to wait a little longer before she approached Aurora again about their positions. But beside that, she had noticed in her subconscious that one of her children had not returned to its bed. If it was hurt, she would need to tend to it, and with this process of thought, the Changeling’s well-being was pushed to the forefront of her mind. Aurora and her conniving strategies were allowed to rest peacefully in the back of her mind, while she checked to be sure no other Changeling’s were unaccounted for.
“And Chrysalis,” Aurora said unexpectedly before the Changeling queen had fully left the lab, “do not become deluded about your growing power. Ponyville and Equestria may offer you greater sustenance then either myself or Inky Jay can provide, but bear in mind that my Devices are not of the same natural magic you might use to usurp me. I still possess the upper hoof.”
“I do not need reminding of your pathetic bid for strength,” Chrysalis hissed before striding with royal purpose from the doorway. Her anger boiled beneath her skin despite her attempts to push it down. It burned her soul to no end that Aurora Streak spoke the truth: that the Devices could protect her weak and powerless frame against just about any sovereign of repute. As she drew nearer to the place her mental map of her children’s whereabouts indicated the injured Changeling had last been, her anger was beginning to subside. The mare had only spoken as she did to re-instill respect of the Devices in Chrysalis. She had to admit, she likely would have done the same thing were she in Aurora’s position.
But any thoughts of willingness to work with Aurora vanished the moment she came up into the hallway. One of her dear subjects, one of her dear children, was lying sprawled out in the middle of the corridor, its fluids having drained out onto the wood some time ago. It was a lifeless husk, and Chrysalis trembled with hatred and anguish at the sight. She did not care if she was heard outside the ship. She did not care if Aurora Streak heard her in her weakest of states. Chrysalis howled in pure, uncontrolled agony for the death of one of her precious Changelings, tears streaming down her face and the rest of the hive agitated by their queen’s distress and fury.
Despite many of its features only partially illuminated by the steady yellow glow of lampposts, Inky Jay considered Ponyville to be a rather nice looking town. Its size and generally unorganized layout reminded him of his home village, though it was still more brightfully cheerful and not as well defended as his home. He was glad it was night, for even though his ceremonial white jacket almost glowed in the darkness, at least a pony would have to be out and looking for him to see him. He appreciated the peace and solitude the night could bring a pony and his thoughts. If anything, it was better for him to have finally left Aurora’s ship so late. Any ponies willing to prowl the darkness most certainly would be possessed on an interesting persona. Only being able to catch a glimpse of one such pony’s movement and—if he was lucky—their color, would be enough for him to begin building a fascinating fictional character.
Such was the mind of an author; always on the hunt for ideas. And yet, as he strolled through the night-covered Ponyville, Inky Jay had little else to do save examine the eccentricity of the town more carefully. His favorite work of art, the starlit sky, was obscured partly by the street lamps, and not a single pony of interest seemed to wander the paths like him. Thus, his perception began to lead him to the conclusion that while Ponyville possessed a certain, messily constructed air; it was so by design. Where Caedmon, his home, was actually a convoluted gaggle of houses and shops resting amongst the red sand dunes, Ponyville’s design was purposefully whimsical.
His opinion slowly shifted from one of appreciation to one of disdain as the truth of this became more and more apparent with every step. The feeling in the architecture he received was sickeningly artificial, especially when all of the homes and buildings he could see were identical. It was a clear sign that their residents were adherent to ‘civilized’ culture and society. There simply was no natural spontaneity of vision or creativity like in Caedmon. He tried to pass it off at first by insisting that perhaps all of the artistically inclined ponies were asleep, but intruding thoughts of home and the nighttime art shows kept pestering him until he accepted his initial thought as true.
He had hoped that by being the only volunteer to come with Aurora Streak, he would have the opportunity of his dreams to see and write of the vibrant and variegated scenery and cultures of Equestria. The Changeling Hive had been the most exquisite place he had ever visited, but it was not within Equestria proper, and he had not exactly been allowed to wander freely within the tunnels. Most certainly the forests and wildlife of the Home of the Sun and Moon were fascinating to observe, document, and imagine as characters; but the denizens of the Bad Lands and the Land of Red Dunes were far more interesting than the Equestrians.
There was of course the possibility that he was simply on the ‘wrong side of town’. He really did not understand this phrase entirely, but Aurora had explained it to him rather awkwardly. “Even their smallest villages are at least twice the size of a settlement like Caedmon,” she had said when they had been drawing close to the border. “The size creates this subconscious rift between certain areas, often along the lines of certain trades.” As he was presently attempting to find himself some accommodation, he reconciled his disappointment with Ponyville by concluding that this district—whatever one might call it—was merely not of the artistic persuasion.
Still, he thought as he stepped up to an inn promising cheap rates, they could at least consider some nighttime galleries. I have never seen so many ponies with such ignorance of the stars’ intricacy. At least in the Land of Red Dunes we had proper respect for the Princess of the Night. Luna must be so ashamed of these. He snorted contemptibly, amused that the Equestrians still had not learned to at least show respect for the night after the Nightmare Moon incident. He and the rest of the Caedmon natives could proudly say they had never abandoned Luna. Before pushing the inn’s door open, he took one last glance around the street: making a last bid for sight of any ponies out so late. There were none, so he dutifully stepped out of the quiet and refreshing night air into the humid confines of the inn.
A small bell tinkled at his entrance, but in the silence around him, Inky Jay thought the ringing was more akin to the tolling of a city hall’s clock tower. The reception area was barely large enough for three ponies to stand within comfortably, a considerable portion of the space taken up by the reception desk. The room was lit by seven candles placed randomly around the room and a small electric lamp at the receptionist’s desk. The actual pony supposed to be working at the counter was not to be seen. Inky huffed, throwing back his hood in distaste. Even with cheap rates, they still ought to be capable enough to have a receptionist working at night.
Upon Inky’s coming up to the counter, the mystery of the missing clerk was solved. A blue colt whose color was made stale by the lack of proper lighting sat in a chair, head collapsed on the records book, ruining the paper further with his light drool. Without the slightest hesitation, Inky Jay removed a pencil from his jacket, place it in his mouth, and swiftly jabbed the colt in the forehead. His small scream at being awoke in such a brutal manner was only enough to cause Inky to raise one eyebrow and sigh. “Oh sorry! Sorry!” the colt apologized profusely, ruining the effect slightly by wiping away some remaining drool with his hoof. “It’s just been so busy lately. All of the visitors are transferring to cheaper hotels like ours and—”
“Do I look like a stallion that even cares the slightest bit about any of that?” Inky asked as he stowed the pencil back in a pocket, desiring only to receive his room key. “I came here for a room, not to hear the woes of a clerk. If I wanted that, I would have taken a trip to the farmer’s market.” The colt was momentarily stunned by Inky’s brusqueness, but he managed to break his staring as Inky’s brows furrowed more and more the longer he did nothing.
“Oh, well then,” the colt said, picking up a pencil from somewhere behind the desk, “what sort of room would you like? I’m afraid many of the more sizeable ones have already been taken, so...”
“I’m a single stallion pegasus,” Inky said deridingly, finding the colt’s denseness nearly unbearable. “Do I look like I need a room with any more than a bed in it?”
“It’ll be twenty-six bits then,” the blue clerk said, catching on for once as he rifled through room keys Inky could not see.
“Bits?” Inky Jay asked, utterly confused. “Is that some sort of slang for Granes now?”
“Granes?” the colt mirrored Inky. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” The pegasus author could only let out a rather pointed and heartfelt grumble as he reached into his pocket again for his native currency.
“Show me one of these ‘Bits’,” Inky demanded, needing a way to compare the value of the money.
“Do I look that gullible?” the receptionist pony asked, offended.
“No, you just look and sound stupid,” Inky said flatly. “We have different currency, in case you hadn’t already figured that out. If you want a fair price, I need to see both side by side.” The colt scowled heavily at Inky’s words, but could not deny the legitimacy of the pegasus’s request. He gingerly set a single bit on the counter, taking extra care to keep it from clattering. A quick look over the golden piece was enough for Inky to sputter in laughter. “That’s the new Equestrian currency!? Ha ha! Wow, this at least made my day.”
“If you cannot keep quiet sir, I can force you to leave,” the colt said, trying unsuccessfully to put on an air of professional intimidation.
“I would keep my mouth shut if I were you,” Inky chuckled, placing his Granes on the counter. There were less than a third of what the clerk had asked for in Bits, but each Grane was edged in amethyst and had an amethyst in its center. “Else I’ll be taking some of those back,” Inky finished his earlier statement. “Those are worth far more than the amount of silly Bits you were asking for, especially with the rarity of desert gems.”
“I’m not sure I can accept these,” the clerk said absently, gazing at the Granes wide-eyed.
“Of course you can,” Inky said impatiently. “They are the currency of another country, just as if you were to take Griffon money. Now where is my key?” The colt absently slid the key onto the counter, never taking his eyes off the Granes while Inky made his way up the narrow stairs to his right and into the room.
True to Inky’s request, there was nothing save a bed in the small space. He extracted his remaining Granes, notebook, and pencil before removing the jacket and draping it over the foot of the bed. He settled onto the not-so-plush mattress, propping his back on the pillows and head board. Taking the pencil in his mouth and readjusting slightly to be sure his prime writing position was as good as it would be without his own pillows, Inky Jay began to scratch on his notebook. He smirked slightly as the words describing an incredibly dense, blue colt took shape on the off-white paper. ______________________________________________________________________________
For Twilight Sparkle and her friends, the night had been tortuous. It had already been late when Rainbow Dash had fled the group to who knew where, and despite Twilight’s nagging suspicions and desire to act upon them, there was simply not enough time left in the day. As it were, since she would need her friends’ help in the next day, Twilight had invited them to stay the night at the library. She had plenty of space after all. The meal prepared by Rarity with Spike’s help that evening had been delicious, but it did nothing to alleviate the awkward silence amongst the remaining Elements. Even Pinkie Pie, the life of any get-together, had had her voice struck down by Rainbow Dash’s fretful departure. The sudden nature of it all had left a hole of confusion and concern none of the ponies could fill.
And the night had not been any better. Despite her restless and incredibly trying day, Twilight had not been able go to sleep. Her theories on the seemingly random personality spikes in herself and those of her friends had pushed sleep to the side as they bounced mercilessly inside her head. It did not help that she had felt that the others had had an equally difficult time passing into their dreams. It had also been rather odd that not once had the Changeling issue entered her thoughts. All of her energy—or what had been left of it—had been entirely focused upon Rainbow Dash’s uncharacteristic flight. She embodied the Element of Loyalty. Of all them, she should have known to stay and that they would have helped her.
But we didn’t, and she didn’t stay, Twilight thought as she moved around her kitchen in the early morning hours. Were we just missing the point and not paying attention to what was really wrong, or am I right? Even having stayed up through most of the night hours, Twilight had not come up with a solution to the question. “How ya doin’ sugarcube?” Applejack’s mellow voice said from behind. Twilight had known she was there, but had just been too caught up in her own thoughts to say anything.
“Good morning to you too,” Twilight said dryly, continuing to watch her toaster.
“Ya couldn’ sleep either?” Applejack asked, taking an apple from the counter.
“I don’t see how any of us could have,” Twilight said, levitating the toast onto her plate and carrying it into the dining room. “I still can’t decide what happened yesterday.”
“Well ya said ya knew who migh’ be able to tell us somethin’,” Applejack said. “Did ya need ta do yer fact checkin’ and stuff?”
“No, I just wanted to be sure I was right before we did anything stupid,” Twilight replied. “And, like I said, I still don’t know.”
“Good morning everypony,” Rarity’s groggy voice sounded from in the hallway leading to the bathroom.
“No it’s not!” Pinkie’s voice blasted through the previously quiet library, somehow still energized. “Dashie’s not back here is she!? How can it be a good morning?!” Only, the energy was strained; a clear sign of Pinkie’s anxiety.
“Calm down Pinkie!” Applejack hollered from the kitchen. “Twilight’ll figure somethin’ out! Won’tcha Twi?”
“Yeah!” Twilight raised her voice at a pointed shove from Applejack. “I’ll figure it out!”
“Really!? That’s awesome Twilight! Can I help?!” Pinkie Pie asked, her attitude switched immediately back to its jovial self as she zipped into the dining room.
“I’m not sure Pinkie,” Twilight said honestly, although already weary of the day. “I’m sure you can help us track somepony down if I’m right.”
“OOOoooo,” Pinkie drew out her eagerness. “I’ll go get my stuff then!” As quickly as she had come, the cotton-candy pony careened out the door.
“I was being serious,” Twilight said straightly. “The Pinkie Sense might come in handy.”
“Ya do realize what yer sayin’,” Applejack replied cynically. “Ain’t no pony that can tell the Pinkie Sense what ta do. Even Pinkie Pie.”
“She might be able to distract him at the very least though,” Twilight said.
“It’s a stallion?” Applejack queried. Twilight nodded with a non-committal mumble as she downed a glass of apple juice.
“Morning guys,” Spike said, grabbing a cereal box from the pantry. “Anypony seen Fluttershy?”
“No,” Twilight answered. “Where did she sleep last night?”
“In tha’ little room off tha balcony,” Applejack answered. “Tha highest one.”
“Weird, that’s what I thought too,” Spike said, scratching his chin in thought. “I went up there this morning to get a lighter blanket, and she wasn’t there, but the bedding was.”
“She pro’bly stepped out fer some fresh air, Spike,” Applejack reassured him. “I know I can’t start a mornin’ o’ work without gettin’ a nice breath o’ mornin’ air.”
“Then why wasn’t she just out on the balcony?” Spike pressured the two mares.
“Okay, okay, fine,” Twilight relented. “If something has happened, better to find out sooner than later. I’ll check the room; Applejack, could you check outside?”
“No prob’em sugarcube. Be back with ‘er in a jiff. I’m sure that’s where she’s at,” Applejack said confidently as she strode up into the library’s main room and out the door.
“Come on Spike,” Twilight said as she chewed the last of her toast. “I wish you weren’t so jittery when random things happen. You shouldn’t read all those pulp fiction books Rainbow Dash talks about.” She climbed the stairs without much conviction, prompting Spike to brush her tail with his swinging arms in his haste. “Calm down Spike,” she half-laughed upon opening the door. “Why can’t you just trust Applejack? She knows what she’s talking about.” Her certainty of Fluttershy’s safety was confirmed with only a sweeping gaze of the room. Only Fluttershy—and perhaps Rarity—would ever make their beds the moment they had risen. “See,” Twilight said, pointing at the delicately arranged blankets over the air mattress, “she took the time to make her bed. If she weren’t okay, that would not be the case. Can you relax now?”
“I guess,” Spike said stubbornly, still not wholly convinced. He crossed his arms, darting his eyes everywhere to keep from having to look at Twilight directly. However selfish the initial motive happened to be, it bore unexpected fruit. “Hey, you don’t leave notes up here Twilight,” Spike said, having spotted a simple piece of stationery lying on a decorative table. “And you sure as hay don’t fold your stuff this neatly.”
“Hey, I fold my papers just fine,” Twilight retorted, but without much menace in her tone. She was distracted by the note, which had come from her own store of stationery. “I guess it has to be from her,” she admitted, levitating it up and undoing its many folds. Her eyes began silently flying over the words until Spike tapped her sitting flank in a disgruntled fashion. “Oh, sorry,” she said sheepishly before restarting, this time reading aloud. “Good morning everypony. I couldn’t sleep at all last night. Rainbow Dash just looked and sounded so awful, I felt horrible about not helping her. I’m sure everypony else understands, and I think everypony can get to the bottom of whatever is bothering Twilight so much without me. I’ve gone to Rainbow Dash’s house to see if I can help her get through what is making her so distressed. Don’t worry about me. We’ll be back once she’s feeling better. All the best, Fluttershy.”
“Well at least somepony’s going to go see her,” Spike said, visibly relieved. “I may have been able to sleep eventually, but I’ve never seen Rainbow act like that. It was creepy enough to keep me up.”
“I guess it’s okay,” Twilight said hesitantly, rolling up the note into a scroll. “I really wanted everypony helping, but, not that I think about it, Fluttershy probably wouldn’t be up for what I have in mind anyway.”
“And hey, maybe she’s right and you’re wrong and Rainbow Dash... is... just...” Spike began enthusiastically before trailing off at Twilight’s annoyed glare. “You know I didn’t mean it like that!” he defended his words.
“I know,” Twilight giggled, playfully rubbing a hoof on his head. “I was just giving you a hard time. But you’re right, really. Fluttershy might be able to do a world of good for Rainbow, and if I’m wrong—here’s hoping—then it’s definitely better for her to have been there and not here.”
“Okay, now that I know that you’re not mad at me,” Spike said easily, “what is it you want to do. It can’t be a good idea, the way you won’t tell anypony.”
“It’s not one of my better ideas, I’ll admit,” Twilight said dubiously as the pair made their way down into foyer again. “But there aren’t exactly many good options, and we have to do it before Aurora comes into town this afternoon.”
“Whoa, hang on,” Spike said, confused. He retreated into the kitchen momentarily before reappearing with his cereal. “What were you saying about Aurora coming into town?” Twilight swore mildly, before continuing; having forgotten she had not told everpony about Aurora’s demonstration.
“Aurora wants to win the town over with a display of her science, whatever that means,” Twilight explained rapidly. She was interrupted then by Applejack crashing into the library, concern spread over her entire face.
“Fluttershy ain’t out anywhere!” she exclaimed.
“She’s gone to see Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said, levitating the note for Applejack to read.
“Well good fer her,” Applejack beamed. “At least one o’ us can go help tha’ way.”
“Mm,” Twilight agreed before turning back to Spike and continuing. “So she’ll be getting Scootaloo’s scooter back, and be giving anypony a device to solve any difficulty they have with their current livelihood. She wants to prove her technology is superior.”
“What now?” Applejack asked, perplexed by having come into the conversation in its middle.
“Aurora,” Twilight said simply. “If my plan is going to work, we have to pull it off before she comes into town. She’ll notice if I’m not there, and that will only make things worse for Ponyville in the long run.”
“So wer on a schedule,” Applejack concluded. “I’ll be righ’ back. Once I drag Rarity out o’ tha shower, ya can tell us all them little details yer so good at.” ______________________________________________________________________________
There were certain days Fluttershy drove herself crazy. Her heart would tell her to do something, and her brain would most often follow its advice without any hesitation. This was not what sparked her frustration with herself. Instead, she would always fret about the best way to go about doing whatever it was her heart and head were trying to get her to do. In this instance, she was confident that going to comfort Rainbow Dash was the best thing she could do, but she was currently paralyzed with hovering midway between her friend’s house and the library. What if the note she had left was not clear enough? What if Twilight and the rest ended up really needing her in the plan Twilight was going to lay out? What if Rainbow Dash was so cold and distant she could not help her at all? What if she wasted her time choosing one when she should have chosen the other? Okay Fluttershy, she pepped talked herself, You’ve already made up your mind. Help Rainbow Dash. Help Rainbow Dash. Twilight can take care of everypony.
Forms of this strain of thought passed through her mind as she made purposeful flaps of her wings toward Rainbow Dash’s home. Inwardly, Fluttershy was glad Rainbow had decided to move it over Ponyville’s outskirts after the Discord incident. It made her nearly petrifying flight time that much shorter and gave her fewer excuses to turn around the closer she came to the floating cloud and rainbow isle. Not many ponies were around the outskirts luckily. With Aurora’s ship so menacing and—as far as many of the townsponies were concerned—semi-sentient, the general consensus that it was better for your health if you stayed close to everypony else nearer the center of town.
As far as Fluttershy was concerned, this was in her favor. The last thing poor Rainbow Dash needed at this point was a gawking crowd shouting questions at her. Fluttershy gently alighted on the extended walkway, peering carefully at the cloud path to Rainbow Dash’s door. She was notorious to disliking visitors when she was home, and her house was rumored to be rigged with all sorts of prank-like traps to ward away any unwanted ‘guests’. Fluttershy had never heard or seen any proof to validate these claims, as the rumors themselves were as much a ward as the supposed traps themselves. She was not, however, so naive as to take them lightly. Nothing on the path appeared to be rigged, so she gently stepped from cloud to cloud until she reached the brass door. She had not taken much mind of the entrance before, but now with the House of a Thousand Fangs a constant presence, Fluttershy could not help but notice the fact that Rainbow’s door was constructed of brass. It was a beautiful addition to the cloud tower, what with the rainbow rivers’ light glinting off its shined surface, but it was still somewhat ironically unnerving.
Nevertheless, Fluttershy had not come so far—in the air no less—to be turned away from her friend’s need by a silly door that just so happened to be constructed of a similar metal as that which coated the capital ship above Ponyville Square. Ever the sweet and gentle mare, Fluttershy lightly tapped her hoof against the door. The clanging was louder than she had meant it to be, but Rainbow did not answer anyway. Fluttershy waited for several awkward seconds, only the sound of the Rainbow fountains in her ears. When Rainbow Dash still did not come to the door, Fluttershy became convinced she had made the right choice in coming.
With a tentative hoof, she pushed on Rainbow’s door. It was unlocked and the hoof latch was not even secured properly. Anypony could easily have walked in. Fluttershy had never been inside Rainbow’s three level flat, and was unsurprised that it showed a complete lack of style-sense: the walls, carpet, and even the ceiling all painted in a bright, burning blue. Rainbow Dash was most definitely not one for such nonsense, as further evidenced by the furniture all having been mashed together rather sloppily from spare clouds. Some were even still gray with stormy potential. Despite this general mismatched image, it was all incredibly clean; evidence to the fact that Rainbow Dash was rarely home. Fluttershy sighed pleasantly at the sight, amused at how laid-back the house seemed even without Rainbow Dash’s presence.
She had no time, however, to explore her friend’s lodging. Fluttershy knew Rainbow’s bedroom was the entire top tier, and it was likely that was where she had retreated. The cloud-built spiral staircase stood in the center of the tower, a rainbowfall running through its middle. Fluttershy gingerly ascended the steps, forcefully subduing a shriek every time one would lower slightly at her extra weight. The climb to the second floor was shorter than she had expected, and out of curiosity, Fluttershy took a chance to peek around the second level of Rainbow’s home.
Her curiosity became a blessing as she spotted a still shell-shocked Rainbow Dash lying on her back on a cloud of sofa. Even from her distance, Fluttershy could see Dash’s eyes were raw and red from silent tears and lack of sleep. Three of her hooves were curled up tightly to her body, while the fourth possessing the Changeling’s encrusted innards lay slung limply over the sofa’s side. Rainbow Dash stared blankly at the ceiling, thoughts either flying through her mind at dizzying speed or completely lacking from her altogether. Fluttershy assumed the latter to be true, although she was certain the former had likely kept her fellow pegasus awake all night. “Rainbow Dash,” she said cautiously, uncertain of Rainbow’s reaction to her presence.
“Go away Fluttershy,” Rainbow said, her voice dry and toneless. Neither her head nor her eyes even moved in Fluttershy’s direction. “You don’t get it. None of you do. But that’s fine. Just don’t try to act like you understand.”
“But I think I... um... do understand,” Fluttershy said softly, coming into the room proper and sitting on the floor near Dash’s head.
“Really?” Rainbow said sarcastically, though it was lacking in her usual energy.
“Um... yes,” Fluttershy said, unable to think of a better reply.
“How could you?” Dash asked, her voice wavering as she turned her face into the back of the sofa. “You didn’t even do anything at the wedding. You don’t even know how to touch something without petting it. Just go away.” Fluttershy scowled uncharacteristically. She knew what she had to share would help Rainbow Dash, but her friend was allowing herself to drown in her own self-inflicted guilt.
“I’m going to tell you a story Rainbow Dash,” Fluttershy said as authoritatively as was possible for her. Dash said nothing in response. Her very soul was torn in two with Fluttershy now present. On the one hoof, she could never accept so much as a kind word in a situation like this. Deep down, she knew she was better than the blubbery mess she was at the moment, and allowing Fluttershy to console her would do nothing for that sentiment—more likely it would detract from it. But just as well on the other hoof, nothing she had tried to tell herself was doing any good for her mental state. Every excuse, every reason she had debated never helped her out of the emotional rut. It was a clear stalemate of the mind—one which Rainbow neither despised nor welcomed—and her silence was its lonely product.
Fluttershy, not knowing the full extent of the mental struggle within Rainbow, took the chance to push onward before her friend threw her out forcibly. “When I discovered that my special talent was caring for animals, I was so happy,” she began. “I couldn’t wait to get started making all of them so happy and safe. But I didn’t know a single thing about how to properly take care of them. I told myself that since it was my special talent, I must not need any training or anything.” As much as Rainbow needed to hear her tale, Fluttershy shivered at what she was about to say. She had reconciled herself to what had happened so long ago, but there were still tormenting thoughts that welled up within her whenever she thought or spoke of it. “I shouldn’t have listened to myself,” she continued. “That first winter, I didn’t know how to help them, and... some of them... didn’t make it.”
“Oh come on,” Rainbow sniveled slightly as she turned around to finally face Fluttershy.
“It’s true,” Fluttershy said, glad that she was making some headway in that Rainbow had decided to actually face her. “And it is just like you and the Changeling.”
“See, what did I say,” Rainbow said, sniffing again and rolling back over. “None of you get it, no matter how hard you try. That’s nothing like me.”
“I... I think it is,” Fluttershy said despite Dash’s emotionally distraught obstinance. “I was devastated for days. I wouldn’t talk to anypony. But, I eventually realized that even though it was my fault, I didn’t do it on purpose. I didn’t want them to die just like you didn’t want to kill the Changeling. It was just an accident. It was terrible, but it was still just an accident.”
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I did it!” Dash broke down, turning to Fluttershy, her eyes glistening with what few tears she had left.
“That’s... true,” Fluttershy said carefully. “But you won’t be able to make up for it by not doing anything. We all want to help you and we all forgive you. The best way to make up for it would be to come and help everypony so no more ponies or Changelings have to die.”
“You really think that’s the way it’ll happen?” Dash asked, forcefully wiping away her tears but still not convinced.
“I can’t be positively sure,” Fluttershy replied, “but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do our part to try.”
Rainbow sat up, drawing in a deep breath as if she were a new mare, saying, “But if I hadn’t been snooping around in the first place, none of it would have happened.”
“That would be the same as me saying I shouldn’t have tried to take care of animals even though it is my special talent,” Fluttershy retorted in something of a perturbed voice. More quietly and gently, she added, “We all have to let go at some point.”
“You’re right,” Rainbow said, the irritation at herself evident in her tone. “I shouldn’t have let it get to me so much.”
“No... I... I think it was a good thing,” Fluttershy said. “It shows you care, which is always good to know.”
“It’s still embarrassing,” Rainbow said, then, with her pep suddenly re-ignited, albeit with a sniff, added, “but hey, I’ve been in plenty of embarrassing situations before. I’ll get over this one just like those.”
“That’s good,” Fluttershy said, smiling that Rainbow Dash was back to her normal self. “You... um... you should probably take a bath though.”
“Why?” Rainbow asked.
“... your... hoof,” Fluttershy said uneasily, not wanting to tread too harshly on bridges she had just rebuilt. Rainbow’s face grimaced when she looked at the coated hoof, as if she was fighting a well of emotions attempting to come to the surface.
“You’re right,” she said, tearing her eyes away from it. “If I don’t, I’ll look like a total wierdo. That is the last thing I need all my fans seeing.” She strode up the stairs to the final floor, and Fluttershy suppressed a small giggle. Now that Rainbow Dash was back to her normal self, they could go stop Twilight and the rest before they did something they would probably regret. ______________________________________________________________________________
Even if Rainbow Dash’s sentiments had been the primary culprit in disrupting Twilight’s evening of rest, her theories concerning it had also taken a considerable portion of her sleep. So though she could already feel irritability crawling over her skin, Twilight’s organizational skills had not yet faltered. Applejack, Rarity (still robed with towels for her mane), Spike, and an extra jittery Pinkie Pie sat in a circle in the center of the library, watching as Twilight threw scroll after scroll into a pile into the center of their ring. Well, perhaps ‘sat’ was an apt description for everypony except Pinkie Pie. As it so happened, her ‘stuff’ had been a ridiculous amount of sweet goods as well as pure sugar. According to her before the sugar had taken its hold on her body, she insisted that an excessive amount of the ingredient heightened the Pinkie sense. Now that it had, her entire form was bouncing in place like one’s jaw on a blustery winter day.
None of her friends had yet asked what exactly all of the scrolls were, for which Twilight was grateful. There was an enormous amount she was collecting for them all, and missing just one could mean the difference between success and failure. The fewer the distractions aside from Pinkie’s incessant bouncing, the faster and more thoroughly she could move through the scrolls. At long last, she levitated the final one onto the stack now taller and wider than two ponies combined. “What’n tarnation ‘re these ol’ thangs?” Applejack was the first to ask. Her tone betrayed that her patience was the most frayed.
“Maps,” Twilight said simply. “These are all maps. Maps of Ponyville, maps of the Everfree Forest, and even blueprints for all of the public buildings in Ponyville.”
“Good gracious!” Rarity exclaimed. “Why would a library have things of such a personal nature?”
“Architecture students sometimes want the blueprints to study,” Twilight explained, though in truth the inches of dust on most of the scrolls indicated otherwise. “And the other maps are for ponies passing through.”
“Is there a map of SugarCube Corner in there?!” Pinkie asked in a glucose-fueled pitch. “What if there are secret passages in it?!”
“I do have one actually,” Twilight gratefully levitated one of the scrolls to her, if only to keep her quiet. “But it’s only of the business portion. Your and the Cake’s bedrooms and living space aren’t on it.”
“Aw...” Pinkie deflated, though she still peered carefully at the parchment.
“Why’re maps so important to us Twi?” Applejack asked. “Most of us’ve grown up in this here town. It’s not like we’re gonna get lost or nothin’.”
“Maybe not,” Twilight explained, “but we need these maps nonetheless. See, I think we may have a chance to get some more information about Aurora without having to go on her ship and without having to risk being caught by her.”
“Do elaborate dear,” Rarity said. “This sounds intriguing and subtle.”
“We need to kidnap Inky Jay,” Twilight said plainly. The reactions of her friends were predictable, if not desirable.
Rarity sputtered before remembering her more ‘lady-like’ manners, Applejack’s jaw dropped, Spike merely rolled his eyes as if he had expected something similarly crazy, and Pinkie exploded in an enthusiastic, “Cool!”
“Come on girls,” Twilight entreated them. “How many times have I wanted us to do something that seemed crazy, but you all didn’t want to, and it turned out it would have been a good idea?”
“That Changelin’ got ya thinkin’ ‘bout tha last time we saw ‘em?” Applejack said seriously. Twilight nodded, though that particular fiasco was not at the forefront of her mind. “Well, if ya’d done told me a few days ago there’d be a magic flyin’ boat over Ponyville, I’d of said you were crazy. Kidnappin’ don’t seem as crazy as that, and seein’ as tha’ happened, I thank I can folla’ ya on this one.”
“Thanks Applejack,” Twilight breathed a sigh of relief. “And I know you’re with us Pinkie.”
“Sure am!” Pinkie said, still shaking manically. “You want me to use my Pinkie Sense to help track the meanie pegasus if he tries to get away right?!” Twilight nodded, and Pinkie’s grin grew even larger than it already had been.
“Spike you have to come,” Twilight turned to the dragon sternly. “You’re my assistant.”
“Well this assistant would rather not be arrested and thrown in the Canterlot dungeons for kidnapping,” Spike retorted legitimately. “Couldn’t you, you know, talk to him before you tied him up in the basement?”
“Spike, you’ve never met Inky Jay,” Twilight said flatly. “He is incredibly loyal to Aurora Streak, and he is not the kind of pony that being civil will make him talk.”
“From what you have told me dear,” Rarity spoke up before Spike could reply, “this Inky Jay character is Aurora’s servant—”
“Scribe,” Twilight corrected.
“Scribe,” Rarity said. “All the same, it sounds to me as if we would have to go onto the ship to find him anyway. I am not seeing how this is any better than doing what poor Rainbow Dash did.”
“Well, I know I didn’t tell anypony this,” Twilight said, “but I didn’t think it was important until I was lying awake last night. When Aurora met us on the top deck, she dismissed Inky Jay by telling him he had leave to go into Ponyville if he wanted.”
“So he is here!” Pinkie said gleefully.
“That’s my theory, and it will be one chance in a million for us to catch him,” Twilight elaborated. “Since Aurora is coming to town for her demonstration this afternoon, I think Inky Jay will rejoin her when she leaves. It makes sense.”
“So ya want us all ta fan out ta find ‘im,” Applejack inferred.
“Exactly,” Twilight said, pointing her hoof at the pile of maps, “and each of us will need the blueprints for the hotels, restaurants, or shops we think he might be in. The maps of Ponyville can help us narrow the search down, but we still don’t want to miss anything.”
“I still think it’s nuts,” Spike mumbled. Twilight ignored him, snatching a scroll from beneath the pile and levitating said pile out of the circle of friends. She unfurled her chosen map, revealing a builder’s overhead view of the town. Rather than marking each of the streets or notable buildings with their names, each was inscribed with a sloppy two number code.
“These numbers tell us which of the blueprints to look for,” Twilight said. Rarity let out an audible sigh of relief at this revelation. “Applejack,” Twilight directed her speech at the apple farmer, “you’ve lived here the longest. Can you tell me where the residential areas are?”
“Hmm,” Applejack mumbled, staring intently at the parchment. It being marked with numbers rather than letters, it was a tad more difficult for Applejack to find her points of reference. “Okay, I know from here ta here are all houses,” she finally said, tapping two points on the map with her hoof. A pop and small flash from Twilight’s horn and the numbers in the area Applejack had indicated vanished.
“Applejack would not know this,” Rarity said confidently, now understanding the exercise ahead, “but I think we can safely assume the stallion will not be anywhere in this area.”
“Why not Rarity?” Twilight asked, giving the location the designer had motioned toward a closer look.
“Well, with as rough a tongue as you say,” Rarity said, aghast at the very thought, “I dare say the wealthy would not take kindly to him staying in their district.”
“Point taken,” Twilight said—though not without some chagrin—wiping away more numbers. “Here’s the difficult part,” she said once the five of them were staring anew at the map. “There are several places that hotels are grouped together. We need to figure out which one he might have stayed at. That should limit the area we have to search.”
“Well, he’s sounds like a big meanie,” Pinkie said plainly, “so I don’t think he’ll go anywhere near the bakers. We have so much fun there!” Twilight nodded in affirmation, glad she could do away with even more numbers.
“Um, ain’t ‘e a pegasus Twi?” Applejack asked, doubtful at the plan’s success due to this singular loop hole.
“Shoot! I had forgotten about that,” Twilight said with a scowl. “If we had Rainbow Dash or Fluttershy here, we wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
“But is he truly the type of pegasus to do a lot of flying dear?” Rarity asked genuinely. “You said he didn’t move his wings all that much.”
“And you’ve always got me and the Pinkie Sense!” Pinkie chimed in.
“I also said it was because pegasi have difficulty accessing their flying magic when on the ship,” Twilight reiterated to Rarity. “He told me it wasn’t worth the effort to fly when on the ship. That doesn’t mean he won’t now that he’s off the ship. If anything, he’s probably more likely to go flying around. And Pinkie, do you really think you could keep up with a flying pegasus?”
“Ye—!” Pinkie Pie began to say positively at first, only to be halted by some conflicting thought. “Awwww, phooey.”
Applejack frowned further than she already had been, studying not the map before them, but an imagined play of sorts were she in Inky Jay’s hooves. She could relate to his apparent economic position as a servant-for-hire, and thus had a general idea of the kind of inns he would be searching for. They would be places with low to medium rates, but as he was—according to Twilight—an author, he would also want a place catering slightly to such a profession. She knew that if she was having to stay in a completely foreign city, she would be most comfortable in an inn near a store front. Applejack got along with business ponies of most types, and being close to them always lessened the nerves that accompanied staying out of town.
However, she had not an iota of knowledge of the more artsy side of Ponyville. She considered asking Twilight, but her friend was more into non-fiction than fiction. Without Rainbow Dash as a source on the ‘cool’ places around Ponyville, she turned to Spike. “Hey Spike,” she said, startling the four, “you got any clue ‘bout where ponies like Rainbow Dash hang out in Ponyville?”
“Uhhhh, why?” Spike asked in utter confusion.
“AJ,” Twilight cut in before Applejack could answer the dragon, “I know it would be better if we had Rainbow Dash with us, but Inky Jay is only going to be here for a little while and he might be the only one we can get real answers from about the ship.”
“That ain’t why I asked,” Applejack said, returning her attention to Spike. “I’d thank he’d be stayin’ close ta somewhere kinda, I don’ know, moar interestin’ than tha rest o’ Ponyville.”
“What makes you say that?” Spike asked. “Twilight’s description doesn’t make me think of Rainbow Dash.”
“He may be moar irritatin’ than a worm in a fresh apple,” Applejack replied, “but I reckon he sticks close ta tha... artsy types.”
“Rainbow Dash is far from artsy Applejack,” Rarity said simply and not with a little disdain. “She is more like you dear.”
“But ain’t them artsy ponies... ‘cool’,” Applejack asked, bemused.
“You could say that,” Twilight said with a small chuckle. “But it’s not the same kind of cool that Rainbow Dash is always going on about. You’re onto something though. Inky does strike me as an artistic pony. Does anypony know if we have—”
She was cut off by Spike jerking his clawed hand in the air and Pinkie chanting, “Ooh ooh ooh!”
“Yes,” she said to them, eyes heavy-lidded.
“You mean like those ponies that are always playing music in the street late at night?!” Pinkie asked excitedly.
“Yeah,” Spike added, “wherever it is that those ponies that are always at festivals always hang out.”
“I believe I know the street they are talking about Twilight,” Rarity said, though her attitude was still somewhat scornful. “Though if we are going to search up and down Barrel Street, at least we will not have to stay long.”
“Barrel Street?” Twilight asked, bewildered. “That’s a musicians gathering place. Well... I... hm... it’s better than anything else we’ve come up with yet. And you’re right Rarity, with so many ponies around, we can just ask if anypony has seen him. As late as they stay out, we won’t have a problem pinning him.”
“We get to talk to the music ponies!” Pinkie bounced up and down excitedly. “They’re all so nice!”
“Pinkie Pie,” Twilight cautioned, “why don’t you let me and Rarity handle the talking.” Pinkie’s lower lip puckered out in a plea for Twilight to change her mind, and the effect was more than Twilight could stand. “Okay fine,” she said grudgingly. “But only to the ponies you know personally.”
“Great!” Pinkie answered. “I’ve had some play at my parties before.” Twilight nodded and levitated the map out of everypony else’s vision, mentally recording the numbers for Barrel Street. The parchment was shortly rolled back into a scroll, and Twilight exchanged it for at least fifty different scrolls from the pyramiding pile.
“Even if we can find Inky Jay by asking around,” Twilight said, “it will still be a good idea to carry blueprints if we aren’t given exact locations.”
“This is a ridiculous amount of scrolls darling,” Rarity said, staring horror-struck at the amount of paper before her. “What makes you think we won’t look suspicious carrying all of these around?”
“Obviously we’re going to look suspicious,” Twilight said confidently. “That’s the reason I want Pinkie to come along. If we’re lucky, we’ll flush him out without having to do much searching, and Pinkie Pie can take over from there.”
“Okay...” Applejack said, voice heavy with skepticism. She was reaching for a group of scrolls when a light knock on the library door brought immediate silence into the library. Although normally a place of peaceful calm, the new stillness that settled over the the shelves of books was of a different kind. Apprehension gripped the air. With a subtle nod from Twilight, she and Rarity backed into the center of the main floor, horns lowered defensively at the door. Pinkie ascended the stairs onto the balcony in preparation to leap down upon any intruder, and Applejack crawled her way to just beside the door, prepared to buck any hostile intruder. Only they were all in place did Spike take hold on the latch and swing the entrance open.
“Oh! Hey guys!” Spike said in a jubilant tone. Though his volume was nothing short of normal, the other ponies in the library winced at the noise relative to the covert silence just before. “It’s okay guys,” he said to his friends on the inside, “Fluttershy’s back and she brought somepony with her!” Twilight and the rest—shocked by Fluttershy’s reappearance alone—readjusted to normal standing poses; Applejack coming away from the door to be less threatening. Even so, she was the first to see Fluttershy’s companion.
“Well hayseed!” Applejack exclaimed, “Rainbow Dash’s back everypony!”
“Really?!” Twilight asked eagerly.
“Don’t crowd so much everypony,” Fluttershy said timidly as she and Rainbow came into the library proper. “Rainbow Dash needs to tell you something.” Though the brash pegasus ruffled her mane importantly, Twilight could see heavy bags under her eyes.
“I’ve been kinda stupid everypony,” Rainbow said finally, taking it turns to look each of them and Spike in the eye. “What happened on that dang ship isn’t going away anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean I should have run off and tried to hide from it. I’m way cooler than that, and I’m gonna prove it by helping you guys make that allicorn wish she’d never come to Ponyville.”
“DASHIE’S BACK!” Pinkie Pie hollered with unbridled joy, stage-diving from the balcony onto the main floor.
“Sure as Tartarus I’m back,” Rainbow replied confidently. “So what’s the plan? Fluttershy said Twilight had some something or other ready to go.”
Mirroring the grin present on all their faces at Rainbow Dash’s return to them, Twilight said, placing a friendly hoof on Rainbow’s shoulder, “First, I think I can say for all of us that we’re sorry too. This whole sequence of events could have been avoided if we had just listened and tried to understand in the first place.” Rainbow nodded her acceptance of the apology, but her eyes betrayed her eagerness to forget the past and focus on the endeavor ahead. “As for the plan,” Twilight said with cunning satisfaction in her voice, “things are going to be much easier with you and Fluttershy to help.”
It was well within the early hours of morning, but Aurora Streak had not eaten. She was not an early riser like so many of the ponies from the Land of Red Dunes assumed her to be, and beyond that she rarely had anything even resembling an appetite until eleven o’clock. All that being said, Aurora had forced herself to wake earlier than her mind would have allowed on its own. Today was to be her great showing before these ignorant Equestrians; for her to plant the seeds of acceptance in their hearts and calm the fears of the Element of Magic.
As she snapped her blood-red bangles onto both her upper hind legs, Aurora reflected that while she had initially placed those two objectives in that order, she was no longer sure. Her experience with the masses—these were thankfully few—taught her that she could manipulate each individual by conforming the group. There were few ponies, even as far back as the original reign of Luna and Celestia, that would stand against their community. Unfortunately, Twilight Sparkle seemed to possess a fiercely independent spirit that would challenge any and all things were she not completely comfortable with them.
Aurora could not be sure where this independence came from. She knew nothing about Sparkle save her name and that she was the leader of the Elements as the Element of Magic. There was also the information she had revealed to Aurora in an attempt to establish her authority: that she was Celestia’s preferred pupil. Being raised by Celestia in Canterlot was likely the major influence, but Aurora reasoned that her small group of Element friends contributed to it as well. As it stood under Aurora’s mind, having so many privileged positions—along with being able to only truly associate with her friends—had produced in the unicorn a personality that was confident only in itself.
Of course, the source of the conflict—while an important gem of knowledge to be stowed away for later use—was of little consequence to the problem it generated. She needed the support of the citizens of the town if she was to direct their Ascension to her own goals. There was the intriguing possibility of manipulating their Ascension against their will, but Aurora was warded away from the idea by her two great mishaps in the area already. That experiment was for when she was firmly established. For now, she would need to stick with a process that she had perfected to the point that she could predict any end result.
But Twilight Sparkle would not simply fall into line with the general thinking no matter how positive it appeared. She was apprehensive of Aurora, and not without good reason. Aurora would not have trusted herself. Her options for swaying Twilight and consequently, the rest of the Elements, were severely limited. Greater truth could just as easily turn her away as bring her in. No, Twilight Sparkle was an analytical mind, and she had to be approached like a complex spell. There was a weakness in it, but not within the individual spells themselves. It was in how they were layered that the weakness, the flaw, would appear.
This mode of thought encouraged and occupied Aurora as she gathered her things. There were a great many parts to the demonstration, warranting the need for Aurora to hitch herself to a cart. Not only was it loaded heavily with the individually deconstructed parts for a Device, but also with a second fully built Device containing a spell most unicorns would consider simple to the point of being second-nature. Inwardly, she wished she had already found a way to build a cart fully powered by Devices. As of yet, such endeavors had been halted by the need for Devices to be of a particular size to work. She had calculated that an average sized cart, after being redesigned with Devices, would be as much as two times as large.
Aurora grumbled at this difficulty. Her technology could cure so many ailments of society, but they were not the most aesthetically pleasing or efficient of inventions. Still busy considering how best to infiltrate Twilight Sparkle’s thoughts with her own ideas, she casually tapped a pedal in the floor to open the door from her lab into the hallway. These musings were immediately cut short by the sight in the corridor. Chrysalis stood at the entrance, every Changeling on board the ship arrayed militaristically behind her. Each of their eyes was narrowed at her hatefully. Being somewhat shorter than the Changeling Queen, Aurora was forced to turn her head up to see Chrysalis’s face. She did not mind the necessity personally, but hated that it gave the queen satisfaction.
Only, satisfaction was the farthest thing from that displayed on Chrysalis’s narrow face. Her fangs were bared, her lower jaw trembling, and her eyes contracted to near slits: it was an expression of fury motivated by an incredibly powerful source. Aurora’s eyes widened uncharacteristically at the sight; even she shocked by the sudden display of force. “Atone for your sins,” Chrysalis hissed, now her whole body shaking in rage, “before I execute you in vengeance and take from you that which you are unworthy to hold!” Her threat was magnified as she and all of her Changelings sparked their horns with green magic, the offensive power attempting to overcome Aurora’s security field.
The threat alone put Aurora on the defensive. Chrysalis’s magics were disabled, true, but she was still a formidable opponent in a physical brawl. Without Devices, Aurora was competent in neither one. That did not even take into account all of the minions behind the queen. Overcoming the sensation of panic she had not felt in centuries, Aurora silently accessed her six red bangles. A simple shove of thought was enough for them to connect to their integrated counterparts. She withheld full activation for when Chrysalis became a true danger.
“Before making threats to me,” Aurora said blankly, her tone now even with the assurances of her bangles, “you should bring it to my attention why you are doing so in the first place.”
“Do not speak as if you are ignorant, you useless spawn of Tartarus!” Chrysalis swore in a roaring bellow. “You promised us happiness for our aid to your mission! You have only given us grief meant only for the lowest of Faust’s enemies!”
“You are still speaking in riddles,” Aurora Streak replied, now becoming impatient. “I still desire your assistance. What is it that has brought you to this extreme? I highly doubt it warrants such a response.”
“You speak so highly, and yet you understand so little,” Chrysalis growled, stepping to one side to allow two of her minions to carry forward the dried husk of a dead Changeling. “YOU LET A PONY FROM THIS ACCURSED TOWN SNEAK ABOARD YOUR SHIP TO MURDER ONE OF MY CHILDREN! You are not fit for command of any kind! Death will be your punishment!” Chrysalis reared back with a shriek, preparing to skewer Aurora clean through. The allicorn’s eyes and mouth shifted from one of confusion-born apathy to fierce retaliatory anger.
Before Chrysalis could come back down, Aurora sent her final command through her bangles. In less than an instant, dozens of Device nozzles pushed themselves from the center of their motifs. They hummed deeply with the deadly purpose of the power within them. With a roar of agony driven frustration, Chrysalis buzzed her wings to settle herself back where she had stood. “Good,” Aurora said, her tone and expression betraying her current disdain for Chrysalis’s attempt on her life. “Before you try to slay me next time, at least try to remember that this is my fortress, not yours.” She drew in a collected breath, changed tact, and said with as much empathy as she could muster, “Now, I know you must be horribly distraught, but try to look at this situation more rationally. Send the others away and repeat to me again what you said but in a more reasonable voice.”
She did not actually need Chrysalis to reiterate. Aurora Streak had heard her more than clearly the first time. She needed time to consider the implications; and part of her was in denial about the truth of the queen’s words. Chrysalis’s body maintained its shaking from cold fury, but she nevertheless chittered a string of Changeling words. The swarm cast their eyes up at her as they slunk away in groups, bewildered and astonished. “You are a despicable creature Aurora Streak,” Chrysalis hissed once her minions were well and gone. “You tread dangerous ground, depriving me of my vengeance with these cheap tricks.”
“My skills have always taken me down paths of a brittle nature,” Aurora retorted. “And how satisfying would your revenge be when you discovered that I was not responsible for the death of one of yours?”
“You may not have placed the hoof through his chest,” Chrysalis growled low, “but your naivety and lack of more efficient security was just as much a culprit.”
“Does security appear to be of any concern!?” Aurora could hear her voice rising despite her normally docile tones. “The death of any of yours is not due to any failure on my part but on yours! I cannot be on watch for all of my Devices at all times, for I trust no one but myself with their operation! If you wish to curb any further incursion by the ponies, alter the patrols of your Changelings!” Her full voice had now lent itself to her shouting, her wings straining against the harness of the cart, and her face mere centimeters from Chrysalis’s own.
“You forget that I am a queen!” Chrysalis roared back, slapping Aurora’s muzzle away with a hoof. It was a bold move, for if Aurora had not the steely control of her bangles that she did, the defensive Devices protruding from the wall would have incinerated Chrysalis. “While the sanctity of life may mean nothing to you, we cherish it! If you will not take greater measures to prevent infiltration, I will take my children and reveal ourselves to the town below. They may treat us as monsters, but they at least will respect that we are as much alive as them!”
“How did it die?” Aurora seethed, changing her topic and lowering her voice to its normal volume. There would simply be no winning this argument with Chrysalis. She was too short-sighted and too driven by the immediate accomplishment of her goals to see that not all would be spared in the rushing waters of Aurora’s new era. The best Aurora would be able to do at the moment would be to abate Chrysalis’s anger. Using the bangles every waking hour would drain her and inhibit the speed of her work, but if the increased security kept Chrysalis in line, it was a price she was willing to pay.
“What sort of a question is that?” Chrysalis asked. “No others were there when he was murdered.”
“Let me inspect the body and I can tell you how he died,” Aurora said, her weariness of the entire confrontation straining her voice. “Will that wet your desire for vengeance until the exact pony responsible can be determined?”
“Only if it will help in that endeavor,” Chrysalis said. Aurora nodded and bent her head to the dead Changeling. There was very little damage to the creature, outside of the death blow to its chest. It was an intriguing find, as it meant that whoever had been in combat with it had not been intending to kill it—at least not at first. The grievous wound itself was also curious. The force required to break a Changeling’s exo-skeleton was tremendous, and it was not one that could be accomplished by one hoof alone. The standard method would have involved bucking with both hind legs. Yet this one had been killed by a single hoof blow. Aurora carefully ran her hoof around the edges of the hole, and smiled in satisfaction as her assumptions were proven correct.
“This kill was an act of desperation,” she said, coming up to face Chrysalis once again. “Whoever killed it contacted the area once before making this injury. Also, it was with a front hoof, since there is only a single hole. It was an unplanned death, making the culprit all the more dangerous. Whoever they were, they were not trying to simply attack me for their own sake. This was the act of a spy attempting to avoid confrontation and gather information before being caught red-hoofed by your Changeling. You should be looking for a pony of a slim, but athletic build; probably a pegasus.”
“How does this help me find the murderer when we are locked away here?” Chrysalis asked, still upset by the death of one of her children, but calmed by the information Aurora had interpreted from the body.
“Before, I would have not done anything,” Aurora flatly admitted, “but this spy was working against me in more than the simple defiance of an ignorant villager. Whether alone or part of a group, they pose a threat to my already unsteady plan. You, Chrysalis, will now be able to hunt this pony and fulfill our contract to its fullest. After my demonstration, you—under a disguise of my choice—will join with Inky Jay to find them. Bear in mind that I do not trust you and him with this lightly, but that the scale of my plan limits my ability to guard all of its walls alone.”
“You wish me to go into Ponyville?” Chrysalis said apprehensively, and not with a little shock though she tried her best to hide it.
“Changed, yes,” Aurora repeated impatiently. “Inky Jay will be returning with me this evening. I expect you to have come up with some sort of place for you and him to begin by then.”
“I will only do this if you promise me one thing,” Chrysalis replied.
“Is what I have already done not enough?” Aurora chided. “You should also know that I have decided to maintain a constant connection with the House of a Thousand Fangs to increase the security as you have suggested.”
“I will offer the murderer no pardon,” Chrysalis practically ignored Aurora’s statements. “Should we find them, I will slay them with no inhibitions.”
“I would not see why I would not allow you that,” Aurora replied, thankful the request was one she could easily grant and had supposed Chrysalis would not have asked. “It is your right after all.”
“Then depart, and allow me to think,” Chrysalis said, stepping to the side to give Aurora room to pass to the lower decks and to the lift leading down into Ponyville. ______________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow Dash zig-zagged around the chimneys on the roofs of Barrel Street and its neighboring roads. It was still early enough in the morning that the ponies were not headed to Town Square for Aurora’s demonstration, but Rainbow was unsure if that would have been any better or worse than the current congestion. Rainbow’s spirits had been considerably lifted when she had been told that Applejack thought she was the type to hang around Barrel Street. She had rolled on the floor in laughter, imagining the disapproving stares of the ponies on the street should she have invaded their ‘territory’. Rainbow stayed well away from Barrel Street and all of its surrounding homes and shops. The music was of a very specific taste—being far from her own—and the atmosphere of the area held a sense of somber philosophy. She could consent she was laid back and often times outright lazy, but these ponies seemed to lack any sort of impassioned energy. As much as Rainbow napped and dozed when she should have been working, she was equally fervent when her race training or any kind of competition was involved. The ponies of Barrel Street were just too monotone for her.
That being said, the ponies out and about strolled along at a snail’s pace, and those sitting outside cafés moved less than the statue of Discord. On the one hoof, this made Rainbow Dash’s job of picking out Inky Jay marginally easier. He would probably be the only pony moving with anything close to a decent speed. But just as much, the ponies below were blurring into a singular mass. She could easily miss him at that rate, but Rainbow had long professed that she only had one minimum speed: fast. There was of course Fluttershy, who haphazardly tried to follow Rainbow’s erratic flight path. She moved through the sky at the same speed a unicorn or Earth pony trotted on the ground, taking greater care with her examination of Barrel Street.
Rainbow Dash glanced behind her, realized she was pulling too far ahead of her friends, and whipped back around for the third time to check in on them. The wind in her wings began to fly through them with more tension the lower she descended, and with a mere two beats, she skidded to a halt next to Twilight. She had barely begun matching her trot when Applejack and Rarity broke off into inns on either side of the street. “Any luck?” Rainbow whispered in Twilight’s ear.
“No,” Twilight said normally, “and you don’t have to whisper. The ponies here don’t care what we ‘young people’ have to say. All they want is a good commission.”
“You mean they’re ignoring my awesomeness on purpose?” Rainbow asked incredulously, glaring around at what few ponies she could make eye contact with.
“Yeah, if you want to put it that way,” Twilight said heavily. “How about your end? You see anypony that looks like him?”
“I couldn’t pick out Pinkie Pie on this street,” Rainbow Dash replied, still heated over being so blatantly passed over. “They all blur into this mass of color.”
“Be right back everypony!” Pinkie said abruptly, bouncing off in the direction of a couple of stallions playing a card game outside one of the many cafés.
“You could always try slowing down,” Twilight criticized Rainbow once again. “Or you could fly ahead and start searching the hotels at the end of the street. We could meet in the middle.”
“Toss the maps,” Rainbow agreed without a second thought, motioning for the paper with her hoof. “This isn’t gonna get me anywhere unless I fly like Fluttershy, which is just not going to happen.”
“Here you go,” Spike obliged her, extracting a few scrolls from Twilight’s bags. “These the right one’s Twilight?” The lavender unicorn hummed uncertainly while she gave them a quick glance, but eventually nodded her approval.
“The name of the hotel or restaurant is at the top if you need to use them,” Twilight said to Rainbow. “But you might not have to. Just ask the staff if they’ve—”
“Twilight, chill,” Rainbow cut her off. “I know how to ask questions. I’m not a filly.”
“Just do it with a touch of grace Rainbow Dash,” Rarity called out, coming out from the hotel she had been inspecting earlier. “You can’t be aggressive.”
“Why not?” Rainbow asked. “I won’t get decent answers if they think they can get away with lying.”
“Rarity, no it’s fine,” Twilight reprimanded the designer, surprising both her and Rainbow. “Dash, do whatever you have to do to move through as quickly as possible. If that means you have to shout at them, so be it. You don’t come around here anyway, so it’s not like you’ll see them again anytime soon.”
“Yes!” Rainbow pumped her hoof. “I’ll have that end of the street swept for this guy: ten minutes tops.” Without waiting to hear what would have been further reproach by Rarity, Rainbow turned tail and accelerated into the sky and down the lane. Now building to a faster pace than before, she smirked as her wind-whipping speed and trademark rainbow streak drew disapproving gazes from the ponies she flew past.
Even if Barrel Street was famous for its musical and artistic touch, its cramped nature was due in no small part to its relatively short size. Rainbow was at the other end in little under two minutes, her hooves scraping against the cobblestone as she slowed to a skidding landing. After a quick glance of her surroundings, Rainbow boldly strutted into the nearest inn. At least, it said it was an inn on the outside. Rainbow personally felt it was little more than a house with an addition for business. She had stayed in ‘real’ inns and hotels before—both in Canterlot and Cloudsdale—and she could assuredly say she preferred this place to those cold, formal lodgings.
Though the lobby area had a definite Earth pony style—paintings of landscapes and animals on the walls and wooden furniture with only minimal metallic decor—it was far more comfortable than something artificial. Thus, Rainbow Dash felt quite at ease coming up the counter. “Oi, you there,” she said to the attendant behind the desk. “I need to ask you something.” The mare jolted up immediately, a smile lighting her features. It was not the kind that was usually plastered on the faces of hotel attendants; she was genuinely happy to see somepony.
“What kind of room can I get you dear?” she asked, already eyeing the room keys in anticipation.
“Um, I’m not here for a room,” Rainbow Dash said blankly. “I just need some info.” The mare’s face fell, her eagerness dissipating with the revelation that Rainbow was not a patron.
“Well, what can I tell you?” she sighed, eyes becoming markedly depressed.
“Hey, what’s goin’ on?” Rainbow asked uncomfortably. “It’s not like you’ll never have another customer today or anything.”
“Are you sure?” the mare asked sardonically. “Ever since that field went up around Ponyville, inns like this one have lost all but the richest patrons. Guests are having to relocate to cheaper places, and we’re suffering for it. So you’ll excuse me if I seem a little crestfallen that you aren’t here to book a room.”
“Sorry about that,” Rainbow said sincerely. “But if you can help me find a particular stallion, a friend of mine thinks we might be able to get out of this mess. He’s in pretty deep, so he’s probably loaded with info.”
“What does he look like? I’ll do anything to help my business and the business of everypony else in Ponyville. The inns are not the only ones that have been affected.”
“He’s brick red,” Rainbow rattled off the description Twilight had given them all, “and a pegasus. Green eyes, deep pink mane and black tail. Oh, he was probably rude too.” The mare narrowed her eyes in concentration, staring upward into space with a hoof scratching her chin.
“Green eyes you said?” she queried for confirmation.
“Yeah,” Rainbow nodded, already smug about having located Inky on her first try.
“I’m sorry,” the mare replied, blasting apart Rainbow’s previous swagger—much to her annoyance. “There have been a few stallions dropping by for some cider and games of cards, but ever since all of our tenants left, there haven’t been any stallions like you described come through. I’ll keep an eye out though.”
“You do that,” Rainbow said, already turning her head out the door. In short order, Rainbow checked most of the hostels and cafés on the upper section of Barrel Street. Very few required further investigation with the maps, as hardly any of the owners or employees remembered any stallions that even looked remotely like Inky Jay. Not only that, but Rainbow was very quickly reminded why she never ventured onto this particular street. Every pony she interviewed could do nothing but complain of the current hardship they were trudging through with the advent of the field. It was all they could talk about, even the chatty types that Rainbow dismissed as fast as she could to search the building manually. Of course, Rainbow conceded that a lot of what they said was probably true, but she doubted any of them had ever really known hardship. As a weather pegasus, the threat of not being paid for the day was always present. If a particular kind of weather was scheduled, and its moving into place did not require any pegasi, they were not paid. It was a simple system and made at least some sense, but it was also often cruel to those employed beneath it.
As she was coming up the stairs from the cellar of a restaurant whose owner thought he might have seen a stallion like Inky the night before, there was a herald cry outside along with every bell tower in the town tolling away. Before she could come up to see the source of the ruckus, the eatery owner poked his head down the stairs, almost jabbing Rainbow in the eye with his nose. “Hey! Watch it!” she sparked. “It’s not like I’m gonna steal any of this stuff. You don’t have to check on me or anything. I’m coming up anyway.” She pushed his head out her way with a hoof as she came back into the restaurant proper. “What’s goin’ on out there?” she asked, perplexed.
“I was hoping you were finished,” the stallion owner huffed, offended by Rainbow’s physical directness. “Apparently the allicorn is preparing to do her demonstration. If you are done sniffing through my cellar, I’d like to go and hear if she has any real options for us.”
“Whoa whoa buster!” Rainbow Dash replied, unwilling to let such comments just roll off her back. “Hold it right there! What makes you think the stupid allicorn that put up the field is going to give two bits about your problems. She’s not from Ponyville and I am, so I actually care about what happens to this town.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” the stallion answered.
“Oh yeah!” Rainbow retaliated. “Well at least my plot’s out there trying to do something about it rather than just sitting around complaining about it!” The stallion’s scowl had now deepened as much as Rainbow’s own narrowed eyes by this point, and their shouting match was only halted by strangled cries just outside the restaurant doors. The citizenry of Barrel Street was moving in bustling and chattering unison toward the center of town, and a lone purple unicorn was fighting against their collective flow. “Twilight!” Rainbow shouted, darting out the door, the restaurant owner forgotten.
“Don’t worry about me!” Twilight said in a partially strangled voice, still fighting somewhat fruitlessly against the crowd. “Hurry! Inky Jay! Fluttershy saw him! He’s headed to the center of town!” Rainbow Dash needed no further incentive. With a grimace and a test flap of her wings, she shamelessly jumped atop the backs of several of the moving ponies; using them as springboards into the sky above Ponyville. Being that the town was originally built and inhabited by Earth ponies, there few pegasi present. Those that did live in and around Ponyville were part of Rainbow’s very own weather management team, and she could tell them all apart by their manes alone. The pegasus she assumed to be Inky Jay stood out like an orange in an apple stand. Her fierce sneer reached her eyes as she accelerated forward into sprinter form. The wind whistled in her ears and pegasi she dodged around yelped as her whipping tail clipped them with a sharp flick.
Rainbow Dash was almost near enough to grab the stallion pegasus and bring him down in a tackle when his field-green eyes snapped back to find her. His pupils shrank in shock briefly before his pegasi-born aggressive instinct took hold. He snarled as he rolled right and bucked a nearby pegasus into Rainbow’s flight path. She swore as she swerved tightly to avoid crashing into the young and crying mare. It had been enough though, for Inky Jay had picked up his speed considerably. Rainbow growled in frustration, but was still confident in her own ability to catch him. Her speed not diminished too greatly by her evasive maneuvers, Rainbow concentrated on beating her wings as she would on a dive into a Sonic Rainboom. Without gravity to lighten the burden of such speeds, her wings rapidly began to scream in protest. She ignored the strain. Her extreme exertion was paying off, as she was closing on Inky once again and even faster than she had the first time.
But the stallion seemed wise to her prowess, for at his first chance, he dived into a street: his hooves barely skimming the cobblestone. The deviation took Rainbow by surprise, but she followed easily. And the chase began as Rainbow thought it should have from the very beginning. She pursued Inky Jay through alleys and side streets, her quarry ever wary of her for his head perpetually swinging back to see her. He was not a remarkable flyer, but he managed to stay just ahead of Rainbow Dash through the erratic nature of his chosen path. Rainbow was sure she could catch him if only he would stop cutting corners onto other streets at the last moment. In order to make it through the narrow corridors, she would have to slow herself to a more controlled speed. As maddening as it was for her to constantly be just short of forcefully grabbing his tail, she was satisfied in that she was keeping him away from the safety of proximity to Aurora Streak. And if anything, he would wear down long before her toned muscles ever would, even at her top speed.
Just after she imagined this encouraging thought, she noticed his wings beginning to beat more slowly. Smirking more than her friends would normally accept, she strained her wings even harder. She was not losing him now. The wind was all but screeching in her ears and her eyes were watering as if she truly were in a Sonic Rainboom dive. Within the second, her teeth found his tail. So enraptured was Rainbow in her success—and also partially and temporarily rendered deaf from the wind shriek—that she never heard the sickening charge of foreign magic. With a forceful tug on Inky’s tail and a running but solid landing, Rainbow jerked the unfortunate pegasus from the air. With a clubbing thud and shout of injury, Inky Jay tumbled onto the street, rolling over brutally as his equilibrium was shattered. Rainbow was victoriously approaching her captive when her own world was turned on its head. Before she could even register the noise of a cast spell, she was tossed through the air and into a brick wall; the sting of the spell in her flank mild compared to the bruise on her back. Her vision blurred and spinning from the impact, she watched through a hazy lens as Inky Jay stood, appearing just as disoriented as she felt.
“I should have known better than to think I was alone,” Inky’s voice came to Rainbow, deeply distorted and echoing slightly. “My thanks though for the timely save.”
“She would not take the chance,” a second pony spoke mechanically. Rainbow turned her head, shaking it to clear the fuzziness surrounding her. “Go and meet her lest she begin to blame us and our queen for your disappearance. This one will be cleaned.” The unicorn speaking to Inky Jay was a consuming dark gray, his eyes a piercing ocean green and mane and tail wispy and sky blue.
“I am my own responsibility,” Inky Jay snapped back at the unicorn. “I will speak with her about you and yours being blamed for my conduct. I will not have it on my own honor.”
“The Queen does not need your help,” the unicorn answered. Rainbow could care less about what they were saying, as their continued discussion was only giving her more and more time to recover. In a few moments, her head would be clear and her limbs ready to obey her once again. In that moment, she would take both of these ponies down.
“Then it stands that she would not submit to Aurora,” Inky replied sarcastically. “No, she needs us just as much as we need her and your kind, for better or worse. Now make sure that one doesn’t remember anything.” He began stalking off, wings spreading in preparation for flight. Rainbow Dash scrambled up, though her mind was not yet set to be doing much more than tripping over her own hooves. She was not letting Inky escape after having chased him for so long. She had taken only two steps forward when the unicorn’s horn began building a spell upon it. She made for him instead, leaping at him fore-legs outstretched to tackle. But the spell hit her first; the world went dark, and Rainbow Dash could feel her memories of his face slipping away into the blackness beginning to consume her. ______________________________________________________________________________
Aurora was still seething when her eyes were exposed to the light of Celestia’s sun. Bright light did not bother her like it did Chrysalis and her Changelings, for she had lived for centuries under the glow of the orb in the sky. All the same, she had grown accustomed to working in the half-light of her Devices and—combined with her festering mood after having to deal with infiltration— the burning sensation in her pupils from the greater amount of light did nothing save deepen the frown on her face. The lift carried her and her equipment down onto the streets of Ponyville, where she was intrigued to find a stage waiting for her. I intended to ‘rescue’ that child’s toy first, Aurora thought grumpily as she gazed around at all of the ponies gathered around the stage. The eyes of some betrayed genuine interest in her display, but most of the ponies tried to hide their outright hate of her through blank expressions. Though, considering these ignorant fools and their ignorant opinions, perhaps it would be better if I were to begin with the general and follow with the specific. Yes, I can accept this.
She wordlessly dragged her cart onto the platform, situating herself just to the side of the podium. A quick shake of her flanks and the latch was opened for her to slide out of of the harness. “Equestrains,” she began, raising her voice to a personally uncomfortable level. “I am going to suppose that you know that which I am going to perform, for I have no wish to waste daylight on useless repetition.” She stepped back over to her cart, and manually extracted all of the materials for the construction of a device. She scowled at herself, having not thought to bring a work table for herself, as there was none provided for her use. Along with her brass parts, also arrayed around her was a notebook full of Inky Jay’s records of her experiments, her goggles, and a common spellbook from ages past. She laid down as leisurely as she could on the unpolished wood, eliciting arched eyebrows from all of the ponies before her. “Oh, come now!” she reacted impatiently. “Do not act as though I am a queen who ought not to appear ‘undignified.’ If you yourselves would rather be sitting, then I encourage you to do so. I will not have this revelation of your minds marred by some petty thing as weariness in the hooves.”
Immediately some of the younger stallions and mares relaxed considerably, those that had worn placid faces now interested in Aurora and her demonstration despite themselves. Fewer of the older ponies did anything, defiantly staying in place and making disgruntled frowns at her. She smiled sweetly at a cluster of them for the sake of her own mood, afterwards returning to survey the crowd. In particular, she was searching for her scribe. He knows the time he should have been here. Why can I not see him amongst these?
“Hey!” a stallion shouted, breaking her from her staring. “You gonna get started already?!”
“Hold your tongue!” she lashed out at him. “This demonstration is something I have chosen to do at the suggestion of your ambassador; and thus, you should be grateful I even considered it. If it will keep further stupid questions from bombarding my ears, I will say that I am currently in waiting for my assistant.” The assembled ponies erupted into dissonant shouts and half-formed conversations. Every pony turned to his neighbor, either bewildered and offended by Aurora or talking among themselves as to why Twilight Sparkle had made the suggestion in the first place. Aurora could only sigh: a mixture of solid disdain and amused farsightedness. As much hardship as she and the ancestors of her cohorts faced in exile, they had at least escaped the descent into this rambling lack of sense. Aurora herself was quite content to let the arguments among all of the gathered ponies carry out until they died into silence. Not only would it give the uncharacteristically late Inky Jay time to come to her side, but she could also survey the crowd without any deriding remarks being directed into her ears. She cared not much for the variety of ponies gathered around her, but searched instead for the tell-tale signs of the two types she had spent much of her life working with. She did not see Earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns. Neither did she see stallions and mares. She perceived those ponies that were Ascended, and those which were not.
The subtle spell she used to illuminate her mind to their presence was one of the few she could actually use without a Device, though she had still built machines for the same purpose. She postulated that this was because the spell was internal, much like the magic required to construct a Device. Nevertheless, she allowed her vision to be given enlightenment, the world before her becoming gray and lifeless. The Ponies themselves became translucent, revealing that which Aurora sought. Her eyebrows were unable to remain even, as she was indeed impressed by the number of ponies that were Ascended. She could see tendrils of power within them, extending from their cutie marks through certain parts of their bodies. As beautiful as Ascension was, Aurora could not help but let off a contemptible scoff at those she saw. They had unlocked their own potential, but it had lacked any form of purpose and it was more than obvious that they had no inkling of it. While in this state of magical sight, Aurora noticed she could see none of the bearers. According to her research, it followed necessarily that they all be Ascended for the Elements to even respond to them. This could only mean that they were not present in the crowd. Interesting Twilight Sparkle, she mused, perhaps Chrysalis is right and I should take greater care. I fear for you if you or any of your friends had a hand in the death of one of her children. A fine annal in history it would be for the Elements of Harmony to be struck down by a Changeling Queen.
She swiftly cancelled the spell on her eyes at the sight of Inky Jay approaching low over the heads of the other ponies. As luck would have it, his arrival also drew the attention of the arguing ponies below Aurora. He alighted rather ungracefully beside her, as if he were injured somehow, and whispered from the corner of his mouth, “The game is afoot.”
“So it would seem,” Aurora replied with an equally covert murmur. Before addressing the newly quieted ponies, Aurora slipped on her goggles, eliciting suppressed giggles which she pointedly ignored. “Equestrians,” she began again in that self-indulgent voice she always remembered Luna using during public address, “I will make you a simple promise. My technology can make all ponies equal.”
“We’re already all equal!” somepony from the throng belted out, followed by murmurs of assent.
“Are you so sure?” Aurora asked with a satisfied grin while Inky huffed in disbelief beside her. It came as no surprise to her that the speaker was a unicorn. “Do you think that an Earth pony would say he is an equal to his unicorn neighbor?”
“Of course he would!” the same unicorn hollered out.
“I was not asking a unicorn to answer that question,” Aurora said. “And by my very use of these different descriptors, it is clear you are all not equal. Unicorns hold much power over the rest of you, even if only subconsciously, through their magic. I offer rectification. I offer magic to any pony, and—in time—flight as well. If you truly say you live by the Elements of Harmony, how can you say my offering is undesirable?” There was a general outcry of resentment from the pegasi and unicorns, but the silence of the Earth ponies gave more power to Aurora’s words than she could have alone.
“Silence, the lot of you!” Inky Jay screamed at the ponies.
“Of course,” Aurora continued, “I understand that many pegasi and unicorns offer their skills and powers to any other pony in need of them, but any self-respecting pony would rather they could live their lives independent of charity.”
“Sounds like ya’d be takin’ ‘way friendship,” the heavy accent of a particular mare was hurled above the rest of half-speech of the crowd. “Givin’ makes ya a better pony an’ ya get ta know some real nice folks,” Applejack continued, she and her friends marching to the front of the crowd. As much as Aurora was focused upon the Elements, she could sense Inky Jay’s level of apprehension increase.
Deciding she could ignore if for the time being, Aurora replied, “So you say that for good to exist, there must be some evil?”
“Well I... uh...” Applejack was stymied.
“Hey, don’t go twisting her words like that!” the one called Rainbow Dash leaped to her friend’s defense.
“I am not twisting her words,” Aurora answered calmly. “It is a legitimate point to raise. This conversation digresses. Equality is my great goal, and I will show just one of the ways in which I will help Equestria achieve it.”
“Oi, this I gotta see,” Rainbow Dash grunted.
“All Earth ponies, raise a hoof,” Aurora commanded. The response was jolted, as many were uncertain of revealing their breed in so heavily charged an atmosphere, but Aurora was satisfied with the eventual result even if it was not perfect. “Keep your hooves up, and my assistant will randomly come by and choose one of you to come on stage for me.” At this, many of the raised limbs descended, only to be returned to the air again with pointed jabs from their fellows. Inky Jay eyed Aurora until she nodded her permission, and he casually began flitting over the crowd.
“You,” he said to a pony near the center, “move along. Come on, don’t be a coward, move your plot up there.” When the pony would not move—likely a combination of stage fright and uncertainty about Aurora herself—Inky sighed heavily and grabbed the pony’s raised hoof. He mercilessly dragged the young stallion along, never bothering to allow the crowd time to move out of the stallion’s way. The end result was an even more shaken pony than when he had first been asked to raise his hoof. In an effort to cheer him up, Aurora could see the Element of Laughter waving and smiling heartily in his direction, heedless of the looks of the ponies around her.
“What is your name?” Aurora asked the stallion, flipping through the pages of her notebook.
“Gold... Gold... Golden Filigree,” the pony stammered.
“And what is your occupation?” Aurora asked again, this time handing the notebook off to a waiting Inky Jay and looking up through her goggles at Golden Filigree.
“I’m a... um... pegasi chariot... I repair pegasi chariots,” he replied, recovering a bit after noticing the Element of Laughter’s antics.
“I see,” Aurora Streak replied, her mind already racing with the possibilities for a Device. It would indeed be convenient if the Device was one whose construction specifications she had memorized. “So, this being your occupation, would you mind explicating to all gathered some difficulties you face in this labor.” It was not a request, but a command.
“Explicate?” the stallion fumbled lightly over the word.
“It means ‘to explain’,” Inky Jay said disparagingly.
“Oh,” Golden Filigree said awkwardly, tilting his head in an attempt to think of anything he found particularly difficult about repairing chariots. “Well, sometimes welding new parts on is difficult.”
“Anything else?” Aurora asked, uninterested in a heat spell: such a utilitarian Device could have a plethora of uses.
“Some of the more complex ones have to be taken apart to be repaired,” Golden Filigree said, becoming more confident as he delved into the details of his craft. “That can take a lot of time and energy, finding just the right tool for the job I mean.”
Now this is an interesting prospect, Aurora thought in something akin to glee. “From the way in which you describe this issue, magic appears to be an easy and simple solution,” Aurora spoke, both to Filigree and the crowd. “And yet an Earth pony has access to no such privilege. He must slave away for hours longer than a unicorn, who with a simple spell could complete the task in mere seconds. Why should one race of ponies be above another in this or any regard?” Turning to face Filigree directly, she said, “There is an interesting spell invented far back in the history of Equestria. The unicorns intended it as a weapon, and a brutal one at that. The spell in question separates those things that are not alike away from one another.”
“You mean Regulus’s Rejection of Parts!” Twilight Sparkle exclaimed. The crowd snickered at her enthusiasm, as if this were not unexpected behavior of her.
“Only partially,” Aurora answered her, though she found the interruption unnecessary and quite irritating. “Regulus’s spell was crude at best, being that it was only meant to cause an explosion of pony organs. There was no subtlety in his work. I have, however, discovered it can be modified slightly to cause a construct to separate into its distinct parts through the same motions by which it was put together. I will proceed to build a device for this laborer, Golden Filigree, to ease his burden.” Not giving the crowd of ponies a chance to shout questions at her, she flicked her head down to the parts before her. A quick puff blew her mane away from her line of sight and she began. It had taken her a great deal of time to come up with how she was to explain her methods to these ponies who likely had no understanding of any magic outside the most basic of levitation spells.
“Brass is the preferred metal,” she began, sliding the husk of a Device to the center of her work area. “Unlike gold, silver, and gems, which can only hold magic and allow it to leach from them over the years; brass can hold magic, contain it, and also channel it. A Device functions on the basis of Indirectly Applied Magic, a fringe area of study. It has a marked difference from an enchantment, which I see many of you unicorns are assuming my technology to be.” A general wave of discomfiture flowed through the ponies; it being unsettling to many of them that Aurora had read them so easily. In fact, Aurora had not done any such thing. Only, she had been exposed so many times to countless ignoramuses that she had come to expect this hasty generalization.
“An enchantment imbues an object with power, true, but that power lies dormant until it is accessed. An additional influx of strength is needed for the power of an enchantment to operate, and this strength is drawn from whoever happens to be using the object in question. My Devices, on the other hoof, use Inder. This magic is the pure essence of a spell, not the effect of spell placed within an object. Therefore, its power is already self contained and can be tapped into without any external addition.” Already, she could see herself losing the attention of the pegasi. Even some of the unicorns appeared to be struggling to grasp her speech. The Earth ponies alone hung onto every word, eager for a chance to wield magic themselves. “And finally, before I begin the actual construction of the Device, I will say that the magic of IAM cannot be heedlessly tapped. There is a reason unicorns possess horns. Within that horn, is an array of organic ‘channels’ through which the magic flows. The form of these ‘channels’ gives life and direction to the spell, the key reason why some unicorns are more skilled with certain spells than others. This also the reason complex spells use arcane lines to direct magic. My Devices use brass ‘channels’ constructed in a style that maximizes the effect of a particular spell, and because they are of brass, none of the magic escapes as it does in a unicorn’s horn. This loss of potency is visualized in the halo of power one sees around a horn when it is being used. Now, watch, and be amazed.”
And Aurora set to her work, signaling to Inky Jay for her notebook as the citizens of Ponyville looked on. She remembered quite fondly when she had begun her work on modifying Regulus’s spell. It had been shortly after her exile from Equestria, and she strongly believed that it was that work that dragged away from despair and brokenness into the idealist mare she was today. The spell itself was a powerful one, and thus very little of the power she would impart to the Device would be used each time it was activated. A smaller Device would have sufficed, but at least this way, she would be able to indulge and construct a machine that would fulfill its purpose for decades. She examined her notes once more, double-checking her calculations, before grasping a brass orb that would fit snugly inside the rear end of the Device shell. Its entire surface was pockmarked with pin-holes. She deftly handed the orb off to Inky Jay, who held it gingerly with both fore-hooves.
Aurora angelically closed her eyes, beginning the most dangerous—yet critical—part of the operation. Most ponies assumed her to be simply unskilled with magic, but this was not completely true. She could not indeed perform even the most basic of spells without tremendous difficulty, but the magic required was still within her. Her special talent had prescribed that it be used in a way in which most unicorns would never even consider, let alone try for the danger involved. Rather than allow her magic to flow through her horn—which she postulated had none of the ‘channels’ she had spoken of—she directed it outside of it. The inherent magic of her body caused the magic to flow like water over her horn until it accumulated at the tip: the purest and unadulterated form of magical power that could be summoned by any pony. But this power was unstable, and without extreme concentration, Aurora knew she could kill both herself and anypony within ten feet of her if she lost her grip on it.
Serenity was key to the process, and Aurora had a memory she would always draw upon after drawing forth the spell. In this moment, she dredged up her modified form of Regulus’s spell, and allowed herself to settle into recollection: all the while directing the magic outside her horn. It had been the most wondrous moment of her life, before she had been ‘blessed’ to be an allicorn. The night before she was to display her theories to the Court of Light and the Court of Darkness, Luna had approached her. She had been concerned for Aurora’s nerves, as Aurora had been a much less ordered and calculating unicorn at the time.
Somewhere in the outside world, Aurora heard the collective gasp of the crowd, and the familiar feel and hissing crackle as the magic flowed up over her horn. She disregarded them as if they were only wisps of a dream, focusing on her memory and the magic itself.
In an effort to calm Aurora and show her that even the greatest of tasks were not impossible, Luna had taken her to the highest balcony of Canterlot. There, she had cast a spell to allow Aurora to feel the power yet stillness of the stars and moon as she directed them below the horizon. The near omnipotence they and Luna had radiated had been astounding, but even more amazing had been the deep tranquility they espoused. The full effect had been a feeling of power restrained and harnessed for the good of all.
And as Aurora registered a gathering shriek and light flashing over her eyelids, she remembered the words Luna had spoken to her. “Remember this always Aurora Streak. It mattereth not how powerful those are that resideth around you. All ponies art in control of their own destinies.” With a soft smile from remembering the creed she now lived by, Aurora opened her eyes and leaned her horn toward the orb held by Inky Jay. The sparking and screeching of the contained magic at the tip of her horn was gradually drowned out by a severe rushing sound—like water under pressure through a narrow opening—as she contacted it with and forced it into the orb in Inky Jay’s hooves.
The entire process she estimated had taken only three minutes or so, though for her it always seemed to last much longer. Raising her head, she was able to see her gleaming handiwork as she removed it from Inky Jay. There rested the orb, the undulating light from the magic within beaming out through the small holes. “Within every Device,” she called to the ponies before her, “rests one such as this.” Without wasting more words on ponies still thunderstruck by the display of magic they had just witnessed, Aurora slipped the precious orb inside the back end of the Device and motioned for Inky Jay to turn the pages of the notebook to the sections detailing the various patterns of the brass channels she was about to place. In her studies of the natural ‘channels’ in a unicorn’s horn, she had come to the realization that there were actually very few naturally occurring formations. Over time, she had compiled notes on which patterns worked well with particular spell types. There were minute tweaks she could make to her brass ‘channels’ to increase the efficiency of the Device in question, but as she was not currently in possession of her other Devices that made this modification possible, she would have to settle for her pre-made ‘channels’.
Regulus’s spell was within a category she dubbed Standard; in that it did not do anything impossible under normal circumstances. The channel configuration was—rather ironically—one of the marginally more complicated sets to assemble. There were three channels in a shallow hillock shape, one facing up and between the other, upward facing, two. In addition, a spring-shaped channel needed to contact the entire inside length of the Device without ever touching the other three channels. Although painstaking, Aurora was not making additional changes to each channel, limiting the actual level of difficulty of the assembly. Within ten minutes, Aurora was sliding back the top cover of this newest Device and applying the external hoof-trigger near the nozzle. “This I present to you,” Aurora said proudly to Golden Filigree, “as both a gift to you and as a promise for greater things to all of Equestria.” Inky Jay promptly took the Device’s trigger in his right front hoof, curling its counterpart around the end. A few beats of his wings sent him into a low hover, and he swiveled to face the podium. Several ponies in the crowd as well as Filigree himself became aware of what was about to happen only moments before Inky activated the Device, shouting warnings to try to stop him.
The instant Inky’s hoof tripped the firing mechanism, a high pitched magic burst was followed by a bolt of turquoise power. It impacted the podium, the entire crowd now in silent waiting for the result. Slowly at first, then with gathering speed, the podium neatly disassembled itself, each nail and wooden plank encased in a turquoise glow until all of the parts were gathered with their kindred in organized piles. Only once the magic faded from the podium pieces did Inky and Aurora nod their approval of her work, Inky ungraciously dropping the machine onto Golden Filigree’s back. At first, there was stunned silence among the citizens of Ponyville, until one Earth pony near the back began vigorously stomping his hooves in sound approval. And all it took was one before the entire town erupted into a dissonant chorus of applause and ponies eagerly discussing with their neighbors what they might have done for them with such technology. Aurora smiled, pleased that her innovation had finally resonated well with commoners, but more so because—despite her best efforts to the contrary—Twilight Sparkle’s face was of one enraptured with the newfound knowledge. Of course, there still was somepony seeing beyond the immediacy of her technology and perhaps that pony was still one of the Elements of Harmony; but with this demonstration and her upcoming retrieval of the filly’s toy, the infiltrator no longer had any leverage against her. If they came forward with what little information they had, the town would laugh them to scorn.
So now the town was hers, and she could devote her current energy into drawing in Twilight Sparkle and the remaining Elements and assisting Chrysalis and Inky Jay in their hunt for the agent intent on deciphering her plans. ______________________________________________________________________________
“And she even brought Scootaloo’s scooter back so quick!” Pinkie continued for the sixth time since coming back from Aurora’s goodwill demonstration. “Maybe I should ask her for something. Ooh! Ooh! Maybe I she can make me a thingy to bake cupcakes without an oven!”
“I’m sure she could Pinkie,” Applejack answered the bouncing pony beside her. None of the others trusted their voices at the moment. Not only had Inky Jay gotten away, but Aurora had all but completely swayed Ponyville’s citizens to her side. To make matters even more complicated, Twilight was struggling with the very real question Aurora had posed. Were all ponies really equal? She and her friends most certainly were, but a nagging feeling somewhere in the back of Twilight’s mind told her that this was only a special case due to them all being bearers of the Elements of Harmony. She shut her eyes tight, trying to drive away the thoughts of her analytical mind. It was, however not to be stopped. No matter how ugly, Twilight could not escape the truth that if she had not been sent to live in Ponyville, and had met any one of her current friends, she would undoubtedly have dismissed them as—dare she even think it—beneath the prize pupil of Princess Celestia.
And she knew from experience as a young mare growing up in Canterlot that even beyond the social class differential, unicorns had a habit of looking down upon the other races. But Twilight had always taken it in stride, especially after coming to Ponyville. She refused to be sucked into such notions, and knew she was the better mare for it. But that still did not escape the problem of so many others in Equestria. Her actions and the actions of those like her would not be enough to change a mindset based in unavoidable and uncontrollable biology. And yet Aurora Streak was offering a solution to the problem that could be applied across Equestria in less than three years. And it came through the hooves of invention, not rebellion, as was so often the historical precedent. Inevitably, Twilight could feel her thoughts warring with one another over Aurora in her entirety.
“This is just crazy!” Rainbow Dash interrupted Twilight’s thoughts. “Of course ponies aren’t equal!”
“What!?” Rarity exclaimed before anypony else. “Rainbow Dash, dear, how can you say such a thing with such... gusto?”
“Uh, ‘cause it’s obvious, duh,” Rainbow said flatly to Rarity.
“I think... um... she means that everypony has strengths and weaknesses... not that weaknesses are a good thing,” Fluttershy stammered.
“Yeah, that,” Rainbow pointed affirmatively to Fluttershy. “Like, I’m a way better athlete than Pinkie Pie, but I can’t throw awesome parties like she can.”
“Yer sayin’ it all balances out in tha end,” Applejack said. “Makes good sense. More sense’n all tha’ rubbish Aurora was throwin’ ou’ there.”
“That’s not what she was talking about,” Twilight said stoically, her tone turning the heads of all her friends. “At least, that’s not all she was talking about. Rarity, you make more money than Applejack right?”
“I do dear,” Rarity replied, “but if it is a question of economics, of course nopony is equal. Economies need inequality to run.”
“I know that,” Twilight said, leading the seven of them into the library. “But imagine if Applejack, you could use magic to harvest the apples. Wouldn’t you make more money faster?”
“I’d reckon we would,” Applejack replied, apprehension at Twilight’s direction creeping into her voice.
“I think Aurora knows that true equality is impossible,” Twilight continued, “but she wants to come as close to it as is physically possible. The problem is that I don’t see why that’s a bad thing, but Aurora herself just doesn’t seem... right.” She took a rare moment to swear, to the wincing reaction of all present. “Sorry...” she sighed. “It’s just, I wish I could write to Princess Celestia. Aurora is an allicorn that’s lived for over a thousand years at least, and we can only go so long against that sort of mind without the Princess’s help.”
“She might be makin’ some good points,” Rainbow Dash said confidently, “but she’s still as twisted as the Everfree Forest for bringing Changelings with her. She should go rot in a dungeon just for that.”
“...but if she wants equality...” Fluttershy muttered, though her words had more impact than Luna using her full volume Royal Canterlot voice.
“Girl’s got a gosh darned point,” Applejack said, stamping a hoof in frustration.
“If that was all she would have revealed them by now,” Twilight said, staring at nothing in thought. “There’s more to the Changeling presence than that, and if we’re going to find what’s really going on with Aurora Streak, that is the lead we have to keep going after.”
“I am not, I repeat, not going back in that ship again,” Rainbow said emphatically.
“I wouldn’t want to shoot anypony into either,” Pinkie added. “Can you imagine if somepony didn’t come back? Then it would be my fault, and—mph!”
“What do you suggest we do then dear?” Rarity said sweetly, her hoof still over Pinkie’s scowling mouth.
“Inky Jay still looks like our best shot,” Twilight mused. “I might have a plan to get him, but I’ll need some time to work out the details.”
“What should we do in the meantime?” Rainbow asked. “I swear I’m gonna explode if I don’t having anything to do.”
“Rainbow, you and Fluttershy can be on the lookout for Inky Jay,” Twilight said. “You’re pegasi, so flying around and looking around won’t look awkward.”
“The rest o’ us could start by talkin’ to everpony ‘round ‘bout what a load of horse apples all tha’ junk is she keeps on sayin’,” Applejack suggested. “We can’t be tha only ponies tha’ thank it is.”
“We’ll need tact though Applejack,” Rarity said in her careful but forceful way. “It would probably be best if did not bring it up unless somepony else does.”
“Good idea, both of you,” Twilight nodded to them. “We need to stay low as much as possible. Aurora doesn’t strike me as the type who would take too kindly to dissent.”
“Gotcha, Twi,” Applejack gave a slight nod. “Just send Spike a’runnin’ when yer ready with this plan o’ yers.”
“If I see Inky, I’m not letting a little crash stop me from catching next time,” Rainbow said. “Though seriously, if any of you guys even mention that I crashed so badly, I’ll just act like I don’t know you... for a week.”
“You were lucky you weren’t hurt worse,” Twilight chuckled. “And we won’t breathe a word about how we found you.”
“Good on that,” Rainbow replied, reassured. “If I manage to catch the dude, I’m takin’ him to the closest of your guys’ places. Just saying so you’re ready.”
“Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Rarity shuddered, no doubt imagining the uncouth Inky Jay spouting off in her boutique.
“Celestia be with you all,” Twilight said as they all left.
“She already is silly!” Pinkie replied as the door shut; once again displaying Pinkie Pie’s strange perception of the world in a way that demanded at least one laugh of amusement.
It had been over three thousand years since Luna had set a hoof in the Valley of War. Longer still had been the day she could recall it ever being a bustling hive of activity. Yet now, each of these memories was forced out to make room for the one currently being stored in her mind. The valley in question was actually the very same one which was known primarily for Canterlot and Ponyville. However, its northern portion was famed not for any town or grand palace, but a fortress rumored to be guarded by ancient magics put in place by the Princesses themselves. In the minds of most ponies, it was an ancient relic that reminded everypony now and again of the respect their monarchs demanded from power alone.
Luna was well aware of Celestia’s sentiments on the issue, but had managed to convince her of the wisdom of not razing the castle to the ground. As it stood, even though they were not necessarily preparing for war, it had proved useful as both a gathering point and a way in which to set the proper tone amongst the armies. These very armies Luna now strode amongst, eliciting stalwart salutes as the ponies scrambled to present themselves in an admirable manner. Luna smiled at each and every one of them. It would do them good to have her well-wishes, especially since both sisters had agreed it would be best if the majority of the armies had no knowledge of their objective. Any mention of Nightmare Moon—even if only tangentially—would be enough to lay to waste any trust the Army of the Moon had in her.
That being said of course, while it was clear her soldiers had put their full trust in her militaristic capabilities, Luna could not say the same of herself to her ponies. It was one problem Luna had foreseen even before her regress into Nightmare Moon. With the peace in Equestria stimulated by the Elements of Harmony, the need for a standing army diminished to the point of only a Royal Guard being required. This was certainly less burdensome on the economics of the government, but its consequence was presently rearing its ugly head. As Luna cast warm smiles on ponies gathered in small groups around fires, she hid her concerned frown at the state of their equipment.
Under the system Celestia had developed under Luna’s absence, the military was maintained in a rather unorthodox manner. Effectively, there was no standing army. Instead, ponies wishing to serve Equestria in her time of need were given basic training and thereafter sent back home with armor and weapons. These were theirs to maintain and to drag out if the call for the armies was ever sounded. The effects of this—in Luna’s forceful opinion—could be seen in nearly every pony she passed. Rarely did she ever see a full set of steel plate armor like she should have. Even worse, there were cases where the pony wore a left piece, but no right piece. More often than not, the edges of the plate were rusted and even if it had been maintained, it did not gleam bright under the moonlight as in the elder days. The weapons were in even worse shape. The swords of the unicorns were either missing sheaths or had been poorly patched by a local blacksmith; the complex back-mounted, bit-trigger cross-bows of the pegasi were usually missing far too many parts to ever function properly; and the bladed hoof-shoes belonging to the Earth ponies were even more badly rusted than the armor. The only thing that even came close to rectifying their sorry state of upkeep was their firm memory of how to march or fly in sync.
But through all of this disappointment, Luna continued to smile at them. She knew her sister was right about visiting her troops to boost their morale, but deep in her heart, she could barely stand to walk amongst ponies who had not taken their dedication seriously. She had taken her nightly tour through the barracks both nights since arriving at the castle and putting out the call for the Army of the Moon, if only to please Celestia so she would not bug Luna over such trivial issues. The downside it seemed, was the gradual tension that had built up inside of Luna as more and more ponies arrived at the castle; each group more ill-prepared than the last.
And this night was beginning to strain at her patience and warm smile. Her logical mind told her to just continue on to her war room, where her properly adorned guard and generals awaited; but Luna had never been one to listen ever much to reason. Her emotions—caught up in a tornado over a lack of a prepared army, her past with Aurora Streak, the mystery of Aurora’s escape, and her current intentions—all combined and burst forth as she overheard a pegasus laughing with some fellows over his shabby weapons. Luna’s frustration must have been rolling off her in waves, for the group of young soldiers turned warily toward her as her hooves crunched dangerously on the gravel path. They immediately ceased their banter and saluted, but it was not near enough to quell Luna’s overflowing emotions.
“THOU DAREST TO MOCK THY POSITION!?” she hurled the Royal Canterlot Voice upon them. “HAST THOU SO LITTLE RESPECT FOR US AND OUR SISTER THAT THOU WOULD MOCK THE DUTY WE HAST GIVEN TO THEE!?” Despite the questions being completely rhetorical, the soldiers before her quaked in fear while at the same time trying to force their lips into a response. “DO NOT BURDEN OUR EARS WITH THY MUTTERINGS!” Luna roared at them. “IF THOU CANST NOT HAVE DIGNITY, THEN WE SHALL DISCHARGE THEE DISHONORABLY ALONG WITH ANY OF THY FELLOWS THAT TAKE THEIR POSITION SO LIGHTLY! NOW BEGONE FROM OUR SIGHT BEFORE WE DECIDEST THAT THEE DESERVEST MORE PUNISHMENT! SPREADEST THE WORD THAT WE EXPECTEST PERFECTION AMONGST OUR RANKS! ARE WE UNDERSTOOD!?”
“Ye... ye... yes...your Highness,” one of the offending pony’s friends trembled. They hastily gathered their belongings and galloped away in the direction Luna had come, their eyes shrunken to mere pricks and fearfully glancing back at Luna. She glared and fumed at their fleeing backsides until they disappeared around a corner, anything left from her outburst sparking out through her pupils. Once they had vanished, she lowered her head and breathed out a heavy sigh. Though she now felt a little better, the issues that were the source were still firmly embedded in her mind. It would be unbecoming of her as a princess to have another such outburst, and further still she knew it was not good for her health to keep so many emotions bottled up. She made a mental note to read more often, as this had a pleasant way of straining out much of her raw sentiments.
She was still breathing out the last of her anxiety when she entered into the fortress proper. It was a cold building, constructed in an age when even magic was limited in its ability to make a place more comfortable. A single carpet ran through the center of every hall and stairwell, split down the middle between a deep navy blue for Luna and a vibrant orange for Celestia. This was the extension of decoration in the fortress. Even the bedrooms for Luna and Celestia contained only a small bed. The huge space was instead taken up by ponies whose talent lay in crafting the machines and weapons of war as well as storage chambers for those that had been finished. Even now, in the middle of her night, Luna could hear the perpetual clanging of metal being shaped into the desired form.
These many forges and warehouses were not Luna’s objective. She strode quietly and confidently up several stairwells and through an apparent maze of hallways until she came to a massive arched doorway filled by two stone slabs. Upon these gray monoliths were etched depictions of two upright blades: the hilt of one ending in a sun motif pommel, and the other in a crescent moon pommel. It was the Equestrian War Room. Seven guards stood on either side of the entrance, the finest of the Sun Guard on the side of Celestia’s blade, and Luna’s hoof-picked best on her weapon’s side. Unlike the soldiers outside who only saluted because doing so was required of them, the guards snapped a hoof to their armored brow out of devotion to the princess whom they were sworn to protect. “At ease,” Luna said calmly, the sight of some measure of order having leveled out her mood. “How hast the night been for thee?”
“Peaceful, your Highness,” the leader of her guards responded. “Nothing out of the ordinary has happened.”
“We are pleased at this,” Luna replied. “However, we would ask a favor of thee.”
“Your Highness,” the captain said. “Forgive me for sounding so blunt, but you never have to ask any of us for a favor. We are here to serve you.”
“We are well aware of this captain,” Luna said, “but what we wilt ask of thee and the other Moon Guards goeth beyond thy duties and encroacheth upon the duties of others.”
“Speak the word, your Highness,” the captain said without hesitation.
“We are not sure of the state of our sister’s training methods, but wilt implement a new one for ours,” Luna said. “We would ask that thee carry the message to the commander of the Moon Guards that we art placing him in charge of all training of our army. We art only satisfied with the appearance of our Guard and wilt have this efficiency transposed onto our army. Thou mayest assure Commander Spearhead that we wilt handle the outrage of the official generals. He is ordered to proceed as if they didst not exist.”
“Is there anything else you would like the Commander to know your Highness?” the captain asked, his face—despite its general impassiveness—revealing his lack of surprise at the development. Luna took this as a sign of confirmation that what she was initiating would be toward the benefit of her army; if even the Guard could so clearly see the problems plaguing the army, then her own perceptions could not be wrong.
“That is all,” Luna nodded to the captain. “Though we are expected in the War Room.”
“Flick, get the Princess’s message to the Commander and make it snappy,” the captain instructed a pegasus harshly before turning back to Luna. “Of course your Majesty.” With a quick signal to the Sun Guards opposite them, every guard pony at the door smashed the hafts of their spears into the floor twice as Luna approached the stone. She slid her horn into a perfectly sized hole in the crescent of the engraving, feeding it energy. When she removed herself from the doors, her half was ablaze with a magical aura as it swung inward to admit her.
The War Room was just as bare as the rest of the fortress, barring a long wooden table running down its center. Celestia sat at the head of the assembly in a wooden seat only just managing to capture the glory of her throne in Canterlot. On the sides of the table were seated six ponies, three to a side. Celestia’s generals were adorned with gold-plated armor similar to that of the Sun Guard, but with added etching and with more flare. Luna’s generals, by decree, wore exactly what the common soldier wore for whatever division they supervised. Luna afforded them to wear their medals, as was every warrior’s right, but no more. Celestia smiled lovingly as her sister took her seat, and Luna was glad to see it was genuine and not faked like hers to the soldiers had been. She returned the grin, her mind already looking forward to the improvements the army would receive under her Commander Spearhead. “How was your walk sister?” Celestia asked once Luna had situated herself satisfactorily.
“Eventful, and its resolution we wish to be the first topic of conversation,” Luna pressed, wanting her dismissal of her inept generals to be over as quickly as possible.
“Oh?” Celestia wondered, intrigued. “Go on then.”
“You three of our generals,” she said forcefully, turning her gaze upon them. “In these past two nights of our tours through the ranks of our Army of the Moon, we have become increasingly agitated with the state in which thou hast allowed it to fall. We could excuseth much the first night. It was the first night after all. But we had been expecting some form of improvement by the second night. We hath seen none. Therefore, we hath made our decision to taketh command of the Army of the Moon away from thee, and giveth it instead to our only trusted leader, Commander Spearhead.” For a moment, there was stunned, motionless silence. Celestia recovered from the revelation most quickly, having an intimate understanding of her sister’s tendencies.
“Princess Luna has spoken, and as her word is law in the governance of the Army of the Moon, you may all now remove yourselves from the War Room,” Celestia commanded.
“But Princess—” the unicorn general began to plead to Celestaia.
“This decision does not rest with me,” Celestia cut him off sharply. “If you have any grievance, take it up with your Princess.”
They tried turning then to Luna, but before they could speak, she said irritably, “We came to this decision because we hath a grievance with thy leadership. Making a plea will not change our mind. NOW REMOVE THYSELF!” Unlike the soldiers, who had been unable to control their trembling when Luna had spoken in her Royal Canterlot Voice, the generals stepped from their seats, bowed to each Princess, and with heads hung low, exited the room.
“I had hoped you would not come to such a decision,” Celestia said once the doors had banged shut once again. “Being that it is true that the armies are in disrepair, I had hoped you would have some patience with your generals.”
“We wouldst have had patience,” Luna replied defensively, “if we had seen any signs of them trying to improve the state of our army.”
“You are not displeased with us are you, your Majesty, are you?” Celestia’s pegasi general inquired of her.
“No,” Celestia said in her soothing voice. “I have personally seen you out and about with the ponies, making changes where they were necessary. I am perfectly satisfied.”
“But what bothereth thou, sister?” Luna asked, having picked up on Celestia’s unease.
“I finally received a letter from the ponies I sent to find Aurora Streak’s guards,” Celestia said, her voice already heavy. “There were no ponies to rescue,” she said gravely. “Each one of them had been... slaughtered. Slaughtered by a variety of spells and other armaments. A few had even been crushed beneath mounds of sand.” Though her voice remained steady, Celestia dropped a tear for the dead.
“How detailed wast the report?” Luna asked, half of her not truly wanting to know the answer.
“More violence was described on those pages than Equestria has in the annals of the past thousand years,” Celestia replied. “I am glad you suggested we call out the armies Luna. I am sorry, but it seems the overly inquisitive and ambitious Aurora Streak we once knew no longer exists. The report indicates there was machine-like precision in the deaths.”
“She mayest be misguided,” Luna said distantly, “but... thou dost believe we mighteth still be able to speaketh with her of her folly.”
“I will never rule out negotiation for peaceful resolution,” Celestia consoled Luna, “but I am also saying that we might very well have to actually use the armies for more than intimidation.”
“I hate to sound uncaring for the loss of an old friend, Princess Luna,” the Earth pony general inserted, “but there is something that you mentioned in the report that bothers me your Highness.”
“I assume you mean besides the killings,” Celestia answered.
“Yes your Majesty,” the general replied. “It spoke of ‘machine-like’ precision. If Ms. Streak is only one pony, I find it difficult to believe she could have killed them all so efficiently: especially after the fight began. And she was a scientist you say. Are you sure she did not have some automatons fighting for her?”
“We find this to be possible, Celly,” Luna said, perking up despite the circumstances. “She always didst speak of her desire to work on designs for magic-powered machines.”
“Even if it absolves her character somewhat,” Celestia said, “automatons still brings up the necessity of the armies even further. We must begin planning for a true battle either way.” The talk gradually dwindled and shifted to Celestia’s generals discussing various tactics that were being reviewed and retaught. Luna herself ignored much of it. Her mind was instead busy attempting to reconcile her fond memories of the eccentric young unicorn she had known before the experiment with the pony who had killed or caused the deaths of at least three dozen other ponies.
Aurora had been such an eager pony, willing to break the rules just to see how far she could push a theory. Her enthusiasm and radical notions on magic theory had captured Luna’s attention like no other mage of the time. As a result, Luna had become close friends with Aurora, and had helped bring in the funds to continue the research. But as Luna remembered descending into her jealousy of Celestia, she also remembered how she had taken advantage of both her friendship with Aurora and Aurora’s enthusiasm. She had insisted that Aurora use her as the subject of a new experiment devised to bring out and even alter the powers of a pony’s cutie mark. Luna, in her crazed quest for equality with her older sister, had envisioned the experiment as a way to gain the extra power she needed to draw the attention of the ponies of Equestria. Only, it had gone horribly wrong. Oh, Luna had Ascended just as Aurora had described, but the surge in power mixed with her already volatile emotional state had unleashed her Nightmare Moon alter ego upon Equestria.
And now Luna could not help but think that perhaps some of that negative energy had leaked into Aurora and she was now possessed of the same rage as Nightmare Moon. Luna forcefully threw away this idea. Had this been true, Aurora would have killed her guards long ago. So what had transformed her into a pony that had motivated her to commit murder, either directly or through machines? The answer presented itself quite randomly. Luna was seeking solace in the embrace of the power of the moon when she realized what Aurora’s motive was. It was not speculation, but a truth put together from her friendship with Aurora and her own experience. Aurora was an idealist whose greatest goal into which went all of her ambition was equality and freedom from Celestia’s overarching power. That last portion was a secret Luna had long hidden from her sister, and was not one she was about to break to her now. So, with Aurora being an idealist of freedom and equality—however hypocritical her position in those ideals was—Luna understood where her motivation lay. Luna herself, even as Nightmare Moon while trapped in her namesake, had felt horrible that her work with the moon was not hers to control and complete. Aurora was in the same position, and she was returned to see her vision through no matter the cost.
“Sister!” Luna nearly shouted, for having been quiet for so long. She blushed slightly when all four of the other ponies turned to her with questioning faces. “Sister,” Luna brought her voice down, “we art in agreeance with thee that a true battle might taketh place. However, we art also in full confidence of our friendship with Aurora Streak. That wilt not have diminished We would ask an assurance of thee.”
“I can only promise so much Luna, even for you,” Celestia said warily.
“We ask that no matter what hath occurred in Ponyville, no matter how horrible the events that may hath transpired; that we art guaranteed a chance to speak with her,” Luna declared.
“Some things are beyond reconciliation my dear sister,” Celestia said gravely. “I understand your desire to save your friend from the only punishment that may be befitting of her at this point, but she may not be able to escape it.”
“Sister please,” Luna implored her. “Thou gavest us another chance to atone for our sins. Allow us to extend the same mercy.” Celestia’s brows furrowed, no doubt attempting to find a way to deny Luna’s request, and struggling with her own sentiments on Aurora.
“You have my promise,” she finally said, though she sounded as she had just given herself a death blow.
“Thank you sister,” Luna replied, sincerely grateful that she would not have to fight her sister on the issue. She inclined her head respectfully to Celestia’s generals before turning to leave the War Room. Spearhead was likely just now receiving the news of his new position and had probably attempted to drown his panic in hard cider. If he was to perform as Luna trusted him to, she would need to lay out exactly what she wanted done. “And Celly,” she said as the stone slab ground open, “try to remember what Cadance always says. There is never too much forgiveness.” ______________________________________________________________________________
“That went well,” Inky Jay said, his tone heavy with cynicism.
“I will admit that the town will not be wholly devoted to me until my next reveal,” Aurora replied, unhitching herself from the considerably lighter cart for a Changeling to take to storage later. “But as they did not begin to hurl rotten produce at us, I would say most of the ponies have been convinced.”
“A few would have liked to, if they had any guts left,” Inky replied, “but that’s not what I meant.”
“You refer to your lateness Inky Jay,” Aurora spoke. It was not a question.
“I do,” Inky answered. “The ponies you identified as the wielders of the Elements of Harmony suspect something bigger. I was held up trying to escape from Loyalty. She’s a dang fast pegasus, if not resilient against Changeling stun blasts.”
“So my precautions for your security did not go unwasted,” Aurora muttered to herself. “Come, we may talk on our way to dinner.”
“I think they were trying to catch me to interrogate me for information,” Inky continued as they strode through the ship, its lights coming to life then as they approached then dimming as they left them behind. “What is that?” Inky interrupted himself, switching his head around to watch as the lights flickered away. “Are they conserving energy?”
“No, Chrysalis requested that I increase the security of the House of a Thousand Fangs. To do so, I have connected myself to the various networks and have priority control over them. Now, continue on.”
Inky shrugged at her explanation, concluding, “I had nothing else to say.”
“The Element of Magic was not satisfied with her visit. If anything, I took a step backward with her. I will keep you in the dark about my more weighty plans and experiments, as I imagine she will not stop chasing you at only one failure,” Aurora cautioned him.
“I would expect nothing less,” Inky said, “but I do need to know what you intend to do with me once your plans are accomplished.”
“Nothing,” Aurora said blankly. “Even now you could leave me forever and I would not have any emotion in the matter. You only know that which I intend to reveal soon, and your knowledge of the Changelings here is as much a danger to you as it would be to me. As Equestria stands now, revealing oneself to have ever been in the content company of Changelings is a prison sentence.”
“Then you would be open to arranging transport for me back home,” Inky said, though the tension in his voice betrayed his concern for Aurora’s reaction.
“That is neither impossible nor difficult,” Aurora answered. “Though it might take more time than either of us would like. I find it amusing that you have already taken the measure of these with only a limited visit of a single town.”
“You yourself described them as all ignorant, Celestia-devoted fools,” Inky Jay defended himself.
“And they are,” Aurora stated somewhat forcefully, “but I know this from the stories my guards would tell along with my experience with them in a past life. Little has changed. You however are making a subjective judgment based only upon your upbringing in Caedmon.”
“I had nothing like an upbringing back home,” Inky spat. “And aren’t all judgements based upon some past experience, no matter what it is?”
“You are correct, and while your position is true, you acquired it not from direct dealings with the subjects,” Aurora restated herself. “I will not argue this point with you. Be content that you possess a sharp enough mind to see such things at such an early age.”
“Thank you Lady Aurora, for the compliment,” Inky said in a rare moment of sincerity.
“I do not give it for sentiment’s sake,” Aurora brushed it aside. “It is a simple fact. Now, so our meals are not interrupted with speech, there is an undertaking I am assigning you to.”
“What needs cataloging?” Inky asked, assuming his skill with a pen was once again required.
“Nothing,” Aurora said simply, tonelessly describing her confrontation with Chrysalis over the death of one of the Changelings at the hand of an as yet unknown assailant. “I am now concerned that the culprit is the Element of Loyalty, as she was the one to chase you down. She would also be in close contact with Magic, and since the Elements likely share a collective mindset, she would certainly have the motivation to sneak aboard my vessel if Magic is a suspicious as I believe. Suffice it to say that I cannot allow any debilitating harm to come to any of the Elements, by Chrysalis’s hoof or otherwise. Initially, you were to travel into the town with a disguised Chrysalis and search out and kill this infiltrator. Now, with the very real possibility that it is Loyalty, you are now to protect the Elements at all costs while simultaneously ‘hunting’ a suspect with Chrysalis. Can you do this?”
“I may be an author by talent,” Inky Jay said, “but you don’t survive in the Land of Red Dunes without learning how to fight a few powerful creatures. Of course, Chrysalis is not as stupid as a beast no matter how she acts at times, so I won’t be able to fight her indefinitely. I can promise my ability to help any of the Elements out of her reach.”
“Good. You both will depart separately and meet at a café I have chosen. Though I have continually reiterated to her that she is remain inconspicuous—”
“Say no more Lady Aurora,” Inky waved a hoof. “Rest assured that I will keep her in line.”
“I rest assured in nothing until it is completed,” Aurora said rather sagely. “However, I am putting far more trust in you than I ever put in any of my old associates. Be sure not to disappoint me.” Inky nodded, sliding back the door that led to the small dining table just outside the galley where a small contingent of Changelings worked. The food was already out on the table: the exact kind they each liked. In silence they each took their seats, Inky Jay working in his personal notebook while Aurora Streak considered how best to return the Elements of Harmony to her side. ______________________________________________________________________________
Both Spike and Twilight Sparkle had wanted a decent night’s sleep the night of Aurora’s two demonstrations. But as fate was often a cruel master even in the little things, they were not allowed it. While the older and thus more reasoned ponies of Ponyville like Twilight herself were only impressed with Aurora’s technology, the younger crowd was singing her praises as the great pony of their age. Even the unicorns, whom Aurora had all but berated for lording over the other pony races, shouted and clamored for their voices to be heard that they would soon be flying like the pegasi. The night had gone by like the whole of the town was hosting a drunken festival. By the time Twilight could no longer stand the noise and had cast a spell to block it out, much of the hollering in the streets did sound partially intoxicated.
The morning did not reveal anything encouraging, as there were more than one empty cider tankards in the street. Luckily, this also meant the early hours of the morning would be quieter than normal. The boisterous types were all hung-over and wouldn’t be out and about until noon or later. It gave Twilight and Spike plenty of time to go over her plan to lure Inky Jay close without having to worry about Aurora noticing he was gone.
“So, um, Twilight,” Spike said while she meditated over a fiction novel: a morning ritual when she could manage it. “It sounds like catching this Inky Jay guy’s gonna be tough. How am I supposed to help exactly?”
“Spike,” Twilight replied absently, as she was finishing up a chapter. “How many times have you told me to calm down when I get stressed?”
“Honestly?” Spike asked, hesitant about what a truthful answer might bring. “All the time.”
“Mmhm,” Twilight answered, stowing the book away in the fiction section. “So if anypony is going to help me see where I’m making a mistake, it’s you.”
“Thanks Twilight!” Spike beamed at the praise.
“I don’t call you my number one assistant for nothing,” she replied with a smile and affectionate rub on Spike’s head. “Now, I want to work on how to corner Inky first. There’s no point in even thinking about how to get him down here if aren’t completely positive we can capture him.”
“Okay,” Spike said, a claw scratching at his chin as always when he was in deep thought. “So what went wrong this time?”
“The time limit,” Twilight spouted off immediately. “Things wouldn’t have been as dangerous for Rainbow Dash if we had had more time.”
“And we had no idea where he was going to be,” Spike mentioned. “We were just lucky that Fluttershy saw him.”
“Oh no,” Twilight gasped, stopping where she had been pacing. “And now he knows that we were after him. That has to mean that Aurora Streak knows too, and that also means he won’t be tricked very easily.”
“Okay, cool it Twilight,” Spike said, motioning with his claws for her to sit down. “She’s using Changelings on her ship and she probably knows that one of them is dead. She’s not making an issue about that, so why would she freak over this?”
“She’s playing dumb to keep Ponyville happy,” the realization dawned on Twilight. “But that only means we’ll have to be extra careful. She’ll know now that we don’t trust her, and she’ll be more cautious around us because of it.”
“What about a fake contest?” Spike asked. “That’s pretty innocent looking.”
“It would be too public,” Twilight said, shooting down his idea and resuming her pacing. “There has to be something—!”
“Oh no, I know that look!” Spike cringed worriedly as Twilight’s face lit up with an idea. “That means you’re thinking of something crazy! Something so crazy it might actually work! Why do you have to do this all the time Twilight?”
“Wait, there’s a look?” Twilight asked curiously, her face dropping into its normal self once again.
“Yes,” Spike replied flatly. Waving his hand, irritated with himself, he asked, “So what did you come up with?”
“Pinkie Pie,” Twilight grinned.
“This is worse than I thought,” Spike moaned. “Go on.”
“If we can somehow invite him for a lunch with Pinkie Pie or something,” Twilight elaborated, “we can hide in SugarCube Corner until just the right moment. Pinkie has tons of trap doors and fake walls built in for all of her parties that she hosts there; they’d be perfect for ambushing him. And... to top it all off, Pinkie Pie is just random enough that she would do something like that.”
“Okay... um... the whole trap door thing freaks me out a bit, well it freaks me out a lot,” Spike said, “but even if that is a good idea, what in Celestia makes you think he would accept an invitation for lunch with Pinkie Pie?”
“Because Aurora won’t want to cause trouble!” Twilight answered enthusiastically. “We’ll turn her strategy against her. Even if he doesn’t want to accept, she won’t risk the town thinking badly of anypony associated with her and will make him go.”
“As scary as this sounds,” Spike said, still slightly apprehensive, “you’re probably right. Why are you so good at this?”
“See, reading lots of books pays off,” Twilight replied, not without a little pride. “You wouldn’t believe the number of ways the royalty have been kidnapped before.”
“Thinking about what we’re about to try, yeah I do,” Spike said sarcastically. “Should I fetch Pinkie Pie so we can brief her on this crazy idea?”
“That’d be great Spike,” Twilight said, nodding her approval. “But don’t try taking any shortcuts. I don’t want you running into drunk ponies without me.”
“Okay Twilight,” Spike breathed out, mildly irritated by her mothering as he stepped into the cool morning. ______________________________________________________________________________
Chrysalis tapped her hoof against the opaque, green glass that was the tabletop for a coffee house with outdoor seating. Not for the first time, her eyes were distracted by the color contrast that Aurora’s chosen disguise had wrought in her normal complexion. Her coat was now a pearly-white, with a soft pink and forest-green mane and a pink tail with a black stripe in its center. Both the mane and tail were—as best she could describe—fluffy. It was not the worst unicorn form she had ever taken, lessened more so by Aurora consenting to allow her to keep her natural two-toned eye color.
Her hoof-tapping was not impatience for Inky Jay’s arrival; she would have been glad to hear the insufferable desert pegasus had fallen into a bottomless pit. No, her impatience was with the waiters at the café. Much against her better judgment and much to her displeasure with herself, she had developed a taste for cappuccino while disguised as the Princess Cadance in her previous attempt to dispose Celestia. She wanted some before Inky Jay arrived so she might enjoy it in the peace of nopony’s company. “Your order Miss...” a young Earth pony came up with a small tray balanced on a hoof.
“Serena,” Chrysalis grated over the name in a falsely kind voice. “I ordered a cappuccino.”
“Well here you are then,” he placed a single, steaming cup before her. “Just call for me if you need anything else.” Chrysalis only nodded tersely in response, hoping to have to maintain a fake voice as little as was necessary. She inhaled over the cup blissfully, eyes closed at the scent. If ever there was any food or drink able to replicate the soothing taste of the best kind of love, these little coffees were it. Chrysalis’s green magic grabbed hold of the cup and lifted its warm contents into her mouth. The taste was delicious, if not as creamy as those in Canterlot had been, but it would suffice.
“Indulging a bit are we?” the scratching voice of her least favorite pony in existence said from close behind. “It smells good at least,” Inky Jay added, not removing his white jacket before sitting opposite her. Chrysalis wasted no words on him, instead glaring menacingly over the rim of her raised cup. “The last thing I expected you to do down here was actually interact with these pathetic excuses for ponies. Considering our mission anyway. For all you know, any of these ponies around us could be the killer.”
“And they are not leaving,” Chrysalis hissed upon taking another sip. “I have all the time in the world.”
“That’s what you think,” Inky huffed, leaning in more closely. “Keep in mind this isn’t just about you and your little revenge trip. Quelling the subversion is the primary goal.”
“That may be true for you,” Chrysalis retorted, removing the cup from between them, “but bear in mind that I am the one leading. You are following.”
“Since when and on whose authority?” Inky spat. “You call yourself a queen, yet you have had to stoop to another with arguably fewer powers than yourself just to provide for your dying race. You can’t legitimately invoke your right of leadership on that basis.” In a minimal flash of green light, the very end of one of Chrysalis’s hooves reverted to its Changeling form. She lashed out at Inky Jay with it, hooking his neck in one of the holes and dragging his face straight to her own. The few patrons of the coffee house gasped collectively, though would be unable to see Chrysalis’s natural hoof so close to Inky’s dark coat.
“Can’t I?” she growled lethally soft to him. With a disgusted shake, she tossed a shocked Inky Jay back into his seat. A quick flash of magic before anypony could notice and her hoof was back to ‘normal’ as she fiercely glowered at the other ponies now staring shocked at their table.
“Don’t be angry with me for what she said about unicorns,” Inky covered for Chrysalis’s identity. Comprehension dawned upon several faces, and a certain level of talk resumed. “Are you trying to make a scene!?” Inky hissed angrily, though he still massaged his neck. “You are supposed to keep a low profile!”
“The key word is low,” Chrysalis said, draining the last of her cup. “While you may be content to serve her every whim, I am not some peasant she happened to pick up off the street. And let us not forget that she came to me for assistance, not the other way around. I will not allow you to twist my history like one of your novels.” Inky scowled at her jab at his origins, but did not retaliate, as there was not a shred of inaccuracy in her description. “I lead us,” Chrysalis forcefully stated again.
“Only as long as you remain... contained,” Inky consented grudgingly. “I know the pressure point that causes a Changeling to switch back from a disguise, and if you do anything to draw attention to Lady Aurora, I will not hesitate to turn that attention elsewhere.”
“If you can reach it,” Chrysalis countered, fuming inside that Inky knew about their pressure nerve.
“We’ll never have to figure out if you keep yourself in check,” Inky said, his tone indicating a clear end to their tossing of threats. There were several moments of silence between them, in which neither looked the other in the eye.” Chrysalis took the moment to levitate out a mess of stray papers sticking obtrusively from the pocket of Inky’s jacket. As he did not object and merely turned a single eye to the moving sheets, she assumed she was supposed to see them anyway. As it so happened, the parchment was not filled with words, but each was covered with a photograph of various pegasi from Ponyville.
“What are these?” Chrysalis asked, sounding accusatory for her short temper with Inky.
“All of these are ponies with the right physiology and physical build to have infiltrated the House of Thousand Fangs,” Inky said, toneless. “These are our suspects. This stallion is the most promising.” He shifted the images all over the table until he revealed a stocky dark gray stallion with a carefully cropped silvery mane and tail.
“And what gives you reason to suspect him over the rest?” Chrysalis inquired. “If you want to keep things quiet, my killing the wrong pony won’t help in that.”
“You killing anypony won’t help,” Inky Jay murmured only loud enough for Chrysalis to hear. “But excitement over Aurora’s new inventions ought to be heightened enough to give us time to hide any evidence. This pegasus is suspect over the rest because he clearly has the strength needed to fight a Changeling. And if there were anypony who would attempt a foray into ‘enemy’ territory, it would be a former guard. His mane cut indicates he might have been one of them. That enough reasoning for you?”
“Only just,” Chrysalis replied. “Where do we find him?”
“His house would be optimal,” Inky continued to explain, his voice beginning to regain some of its usual condescension. “But it’s either in the skies outside the town or out of reach of the ship’s image gathering Devices. The only silver lining is that he works part-time at his own business. It’s only a start-up by the looks of it, so there shouldn’t be any ponies there when we arrive.”
“Then get up so we can leave,” Chrysalis said, standing while grasping the photos with magic. “I have never let my rightful vengeance grow stale, and I will not start with this.” Inky Jay joined her only after a defiant pause, tossing a Grane beside Chrysalis’s empty cup.
Chrysalis did not hear the all of what he said, so she refrained from speaking lest she have to listen to his full voice directed at her, but as they twisted through Ponyville’s streets, she heard Inky Jay whisper to himself, “Why Serena...?” Then, for no reason she could see that would warrant it, he burst into hearty mirth.
“No, no,” Pinkie Pie stressed as she muttered to herself, “that makes me sound like a big meanie host.” Spike grumbled incomprehensibly for the seventeenth time, crumpling up and tossing over a sheet of parchment into a pile of similarly crunched pieces of paper.
“Don’t complain Spike,” Twilight reprimanded him. “We want Inky to have a choice in coming, but it can’t seem like a threat. Just take your time, Pinkie.”
“But I’ve never written a party invitation that somepony has had to come to!” Pinkie fretted. “Ponies just want to come because my parties are so exciting!”
“Or because they’re scared of you,” Spike mumbled sarcastically.
“What was that!?” Pinkie snapped, zipping nose-to-nose with Spike.
“I was... um... just saying maybe... maybe it’s because... heh heh... they’re scared it’ll be their last party,” Spike stuttered, attempting desperately to avoid being berated by Pinkie.
“Oh! Maybe that’s it too!” Pinkie immediately brightened as if she had never been upset with Spike. “But I’d hate to think of every party being your last party.”
“Could you focus on the invitation you two?” Twilight asked impatiently. “It would be best if we could get it out to him before lunch. What sort of celebration would Aurora want him to go to?”
“A cupcake eating contest!” Pinkie Pie said enthusiastically.
“No, Pinkie Pie,” Twilight answered wearily, “though I think she did enjoy the ones you sent her.”
“Ooh good!” Pinkie said, bouncing up. “Maybe I should make some more...”
“Pinkie!” Twilight shouted, having lost any patience she may have had upon initially bringing her friend over to dictate the invitation.
“Oh right, the fake invitation,” Pinkie turned back to Spike, flashing an apologetic smile to Twilight first. “Aha! How about a Devices-Are-Totally-Awesome-Celebration party!” Pinkie burst out after a few moments, startling both Spike and Twilight.
“Hey, that’s a good one!” Spike heartily agreed with her after recovering from a skipped heartbeat. They bumped hoof and claw, Pinkie winking to Spike. “What’d you think Twilight?”
“It makes sense,” Twilight pondered slowly. “I just worry that it’s a bit too obvious and that she’ll see it’s a trap.”
“Not if I mention there’ll be cider!” Pinkie piped up.
“The cider was flowing pretty freely last night,” Spike said, despite his personal annoyance at the midnight ruckus. “Cider makes a Device party sound pretty convincing if you ask me.”
“Well, I’m not sure if a bunch of drunk ponies is exactly what Aurora wants in supporters...” Twilight trailed off.
“We’ve been to parties with hard cider,” Spike said. “Those weren’t drink fests.”
“It’s how you cater to a party for the young crowd,” Pinkie elaborated seriously, like she was giving a lecture. “And those are the ponies the meanie-Device-allicorn wants on her side.”
“Fine,” Twilight relented. “It’s not like we’ve come up with anything better. Write it.”
“Ready Spike, here we go,” Pinkie said, her voice tingling with energy. He nodded, and she began to recite, “Dear Assistant Pony Inky Jay. There were a lot of ponies that were super impressed by the Devices, so we’re throwing a party to celebrate how awesome they are! We all thought it would be neat for you to come and mingle with us so you can tell us about all the kinds of neato Devices you’ve seen. There will be food and drinks, and house-made cupcakes and good ol’ hard cider! Hope to see you at SugarCube Corner! Um... Twilight, should I sign it with my name?”
“By Celestia’s mane no!” Twilight stood from where she had been reading. “Aurora already knows more than she should for a pony that only got here a few days ago. We can’t risk putting any of our names on it. Leave it anonymous.”
“Okie dokie lokie,” Pinkie smiled, taking the folded invitation from Spike. “I’ll go ahead and find Derpy and—” She was cut off as the door to the library was smashed in, her whole body plastered and splayed on it. Pinkie dizzily slid off, mumbling incomprehensibly as her eyes swirled around randomly.
“Ooh, sorry Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash said without a note of an apology in her voice. Turning rapidly to Twilight, her tone became increasingly earnest. “Twilight, we’ve gotta move. I just saw Inky Jay go into Thunderlane’s pawn shop. He’s got some new unicorn I’ve never seen before with him.”
“Wait, slow down Rainbow Dash,” Twilight shook her head, trying to keep up with the speed of the sky-blue pegasus’s speech. “Inky Jay is back in Ponyville?”
“I already said that!” Rainbow exclaimed, now becoming even more intense. “Don’t ask me when. I don’t know and it isn’t important. I didn’t grab him ‘cause of the unicorn. I don’t know who she is, and she—”
“Okay, calm down Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said, her mind already jumping to conclusions on the unicorn’s identity. “It’s probably a Changeling, so it’s a good thing you came here first. Pinkie Pie, are you okay?”
“Just a little bump on the head!” Pinkie grinned.
“Good,” Twilight replied, not bothering on whether or not Pinkie’s response was entirely true. “Act like nothing’s wrong and get Derpy to deliver that letter. The party is now Plan B.” Pinkie smiled and shook her head enthusiastically before bounding away. “Rainbow, lead me and Spike to Thunderlane’s shop, I’ve never been there before.”
“I get to come?!” Spike asked incredulously, pointing to himself.
“They’ll underestimate you, my Number One Assistant,” Twilight said eyes scowling in focus. She threw him atop her back and galloped out the door behind a speeding Rainbow Dash. ______________________________________________________________________________
Inky Jay subtly watched the faces of all the ponies in the streets as he and the disguised Chrysalis walked side by side toward the fake suspect’s store. Many of the ponies recognized him from Aurora’s demonstration, and he could easily discern their sentiment toward him and his Lady from their not-so-hidden expressions. This much he had expected, Aurora and historical texts having taught him that in every great revolution, there were always two sides. And as he expected it, he did not let it linger in his thoughts. No, his fascination with these Celestia-inundated ponies was their looks at the pair of him and ‘Serena’. “They find my tastes in mares odd,” Inky smirked, speaking aside to Chrysalis.
“And why should they not,” the Changeling queen snapped back. “By their measure of physical beauty, this form is far above your station.”
“You misunderstand, as usual,” Inky inserted his jab at her. “Your beauty is not why they see our coupling as strange. I think they are wondering how I managed to attract a female in the first place.”
“Hardly. There are tramps the world over willing to walk hoof-in-hoof with any stallion,” Chrysalis replied, tilting her head up ever so slightly as she looked down on him. “Their true curiosity lies in my presence alone.”
“Where you found that feeling of self-importance is beyond me,” Inky scoffed, directing their walk right. “At least Aurora and I earned ours.”
“I earned mine rising up to lead the greatest Changeling assault on Equestria in history,” Chrysalis growled low. “And what have you done to earn your imagined authority? Aurora at least has accomplished much in her studies.”
“I survived,” Inky said sharply and coldly, sending a clear message that the direction of the conversation was not to be pursued.
“Touchy about our past are we?” Chrysalis teased, enjoying having finally found something to hold over Aurora’s pesky servant.
“And you aren’t? You needle me about it any more, and I will give you the truth of your past that you don’t want to hear,” Inky Jay countered. Chrysalis scowled heavily, but chose to hold back any more words; instead, she tossed her head, throwing her bushy mane out of her face.
Their brisk pace brought the antagonistic pair to the pegasus’s business front earlier than Inky Jay would have liked. There were still customers leaving and congregating around the modest bagel shop, and its owner was happily popping in and out to check on the satisfaction of his patrons. “How do you propose we deal with all of the patrons,” Chrysalis asked in barely a whisper, staring much like Inky from a dark alley directly across the road.
“You tell me. You’re the one who wanted to be in charge, remember?” Inky replied.
“We wait,” Chrysalis decided. “As easy as it would be for me to teleport them all away, it would cause—as you say—a scene. No doubt they would all simply come running back here as well.”
“The morning rush will be over soon,” Inky added, “so the other employees will probably return home until the lunch hour. We can’t move until we are sure they have all gone.”
“Does Aurora know how many other ponies work for this pegasus as well?” Chrysalis asked indignantly.
“Three exactly,” Inky replied without even acknowledging her offense. At least ten minutes passed in silence between the two as they watched customers come and go, waiting for any uniformed pony to depart. “There,” Inky said purposefully, nodding his head to a side entrance. A red Earth pony with a sky-blue mane was exiting the building, a formal white shirt casually unbuttoned after a morning of hard work. He was followed in short order by two mares and the dark gray pegasus owner. Their mouths moved jovially before their quarry bumped hooves with his three employees, bidding them a good day. He returned inside, but quickly reappeared outside the store-front, politely speaking to customers still eating outside. He was met with nods all around, and the ponies picked up their bagels to leave for their morning tasks. Inky felt Chrysalis move closer to his side, but she stopped when the pink sphere above them flickered momentarily.
“Has that ever happened in any of her tests?” the queen asked warily, looking directly up at the dome of energy.
“On occasion,” Inky answered, following her gaze, “but only when she is working with it while it is active. You see, it takes two Devices to run a defensive field. One provides the energy to regulate the field’s effects, while the other provides the raw power necessary to generate and maintain it. That flicker means Lady Aurora was siphoning power directly from one of the Devices in one of the spires.”
“What would be the purpose?” Chrysalis asked forcefully, never taking her eyes from the dome.
“To activate another, smaller field before it had its own power source,” Inky replied rotely. In a more annoyed tone, he added, “She’s just performing a new experiment. Stop being so paranoid.”
“The last time I ignored my instincts,” Chrysalis hissed, finally bringing her eyes to Inky, “the great invasion of my devising was foiled. Something did not feel right just now, and I will not pass it by.”
“Fine, but do it on your own time. Faust knows we give you enough of it,” Inky Jay replied. “Get us inside.”
Chrysalis huffed, but grabbed Inky around the chest and said, “If you value living, do not breathe, open your eyes, or move during the teleportation. If you do anything, there is a real possibility of the both of us combining in increasingly gruesome ways on the other side.”
“Feathers wouldn’t suit you,” Inky managed before a ring of heatless green fire erupted around them and they were drawn down into a netherworld. The feeling of teleportation was not one Inky had ever experienced before, and it was not one he was keen to try more than once. It was like being underwater—or at least what he imagined being submerged would feel like—but without the resistance. There was a weight to his body yes, but it was minimal, and was contrasted sharply by a second sensation of being completely ethereal.
The magic was over before all of these effects compounded upon Inky’s mind, but he could not help but blink pointedly and breathe in large, controlled breaths. “Not all ponies have the mental fortitude for teleportation,” Chrysalis said smoothly.
“Mental fortitude my flank,” Inky cursed. “I could feel my magic and my body being turned inside out. The mind can’t exactly defend against something so unnatural. Where is that pegasus?”
“I can’t be sure,” Chrysalis replied, though still obviously amused at Inky’s previous discomfort as she inspected the dining area. “Stay here while I go check the back. Lower all of the blinds and turn the sign to ‘Closed’. We will ward off interference as much as possible.”
“That won’t stop the determined,” Inky muttered as he and Chrysalis split up for the duties she had given. The blinds were easy enough to bring down, as was flipping the sign, but the space still felt far too vulnerable for an interrogation. Perhaps it was the simple fact that they were pursuing a false lead; that he was effectively stalling to give Aurora more time. Interrogations were supposed to go as quickly as possible, but in this instance, he was violating that cardinal rule on purpose rather than as part of a ruse. It was no help that the lowered blinds cast shafts of dull morning light across the otherwise darkened wood of the shop, and that the cheerful greetings of ponies in the streets outside could be heard through the glass panes. There was a sense of dark urgency in the room, and Inky Jay was denying it its purpose.
He was jolted from these thoughts when a clattering of cookware sounded from somewhere in the back of the shop. These were followed by angry shouts that turned to muffled cries of pain. Only a moment later did Chrysalis return with a severely dazed pegasus floating within the grasp of her green magic. “Get a chair and tie him to it with this,” she ordered, shrugging a bundle of rope from her back. Inky said nothing, swinging a chair before Chrysalis where she unceremoniously dropped the stallion. The backs of the chair were perfect for restraint, being constructed of stylistic vertical poles. Inky strapped the stallion to them by his neck, chest, and forelegs along with tying his hind legs to the legs of the chair.
“You dazed him,” Inky said stiffly when he was finished, “so you can wake him up.” Chrysalis obliged with a thin bolt of energy from her horn onto the captive pegasus’s muzzle.
“Wha—! Ow!” he exclaimed, trying to shake his head, but ceasing from the rough touch of the rope.
“Shut up!” Inky said brutally. “You speak only when spoken to, am I understood?”
“Ah, ow, nnggg,” he moaned, the ropes still bothering him. “Yes.”
“What is your name?” Chrysalis asked imperiously.
“Who are you ponies?” the stallion asked, eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the low level of light.
“Answer the question,” Inky demanded scratchily. “You are in no position to ask questions.”
“Name’s Thunderlane,” the pegasus said, his face turning in the direction of Inky’s voice. “I recognize your voice, even though it’s quieter now. What does the Aurora mare want with me?”
“Silence fool!” Chrysalis growled, the plurality of her voice coming out, stronger in her mounting anticipation than even in her normal speaking tone. “What she wants is not why we are here!”
“That’s what you think,” Inky said forcefully to her. “Need I remind you again that this holds implications far beyond the satisfaction of your vengeance.”
“Vengeance?” Thunderlane’s voice rightfully trembled at the word.
“The end result is the same,” Chrysalis snapped back, “so we shall agree to disagree on what is most important here.”
“I am not required to agree with you on anything,” Inky replied flatly. “Get on with it. The longer we stay here, the more we chance discovery.”
“Get on point,” she said, the malice in her body language and voice reaching a peak. As Inky positioned his eyes at a crack in the blinds, Chrysalis turned her murderous attention to Thunderlane. “What do you know about the House of a Thousand Fangs?”
“The what?” Thunderlane asked, confused and fearful. There was a creaking of strained wood, and Inky turned to see the pegasus leaning as far back in the chair as was possible, as Chrysalis’s pearly face was uncomfortably close to his.
“The ship of Lady Aurora,” Inky inserted impatiently.
“I don’t know anything for sure, except that it runs on magic,” Thunderlane replied as Inky turned back to blinds. A deep but hollow tone escaped into the room: the result of Chrysalis’s horn lighting.
“Try again,” she hissed. “What do you know about the ship?”
“I swear I don’t know!” Thunderlane shouted out, now in true fear of what magic Chrysalis might decide to use against his body.
How long can he withstand this I wonder, Inky thought as a strangled cry escaped a newly wounded Thunderlane. How long can you and I shield the Elements from the wrath of a vengeful queen? ______________________________________________________________________________
Twilight Sparkle dug her hooves into the stone and dirt street of Ponyville, skidding around a corner. She could hear Spike breathing nervously as he struggled to keep a hold on her mane, tugging on whenever she sped up or slowed down significantly. Above her, Rainbow Dash performed acrobatics in the interim between waiting for Twilight and scouting out Thunderlane’s place. As it was, Twilight was mildly surprised when Rainbow dove down and began flying at pace with her. “Thunderlane just closed up shop for the morning,” Rainbow informed her seriously. “If they’re going to do anything, they’ll do it now before he goes back home.”
“How much time do we have?” Twilight asked, not taking her eyes off the road before her.
“No clue,” Rainbow said unhelpfully. “All I know is that he stays after to clean up.” The pair continued with Spike still clinging desperately to Twilight until Rainbow threw out a leg and did her best to avoid shouting, “Stop!” Twilight scuffed up the stone beneath her hooves as she slowed to a stand.
“What?” she asked, finally looking to Rainbow and following her friend’s gaze. They were standing about three buildings down from the bagel shop co-owned by Thunderlane and his uncle, but Rainbow was not paying it any mind. Twilight barely caught a glimpse of sickly green light inside an alley on the other side of the street as she scanned for whatever had drawn Rainbow’s attention.
“Did you see that?” the pegasus asked apprehensively.
“I know I did,” Spike answered first, his claws pulling on Twilight’s mane in stress. “Was that what I really think it was?”
“I hope not,” Rainbow replied. “One was enough. You did see it, right Twilight?”
“Did it look like that?” Twilight asked them gravely, pointing to a flickering green glow flashing from the windows of the bagel shop. Rainbow Dash swore vehemently, but Spike could only stare transfixed while tapping on Twilight’s shoulder. “Yes?” she asked him.
“Can all of them do that?” he asked, voice hollow with all of his attention focused on the now fading light.
“It doesn’t matter,” Rainbow inserted defiantly. “We have to help Thunderlane or they’ll... bite him.”
“It does matter Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said cautiously, “but I can’t argue against having to help him. Why she would target Thunderlane is beyond me though.”
“Okay then,” Rainbow said, her adrenaline already seeping into her tone. “I know this back door to the kitchens that Thunderlane always leaves unlocked. I’ve always told him it’s stupid for him to let it go like that, but it looks like it was a good idea after all.”
“Lead the way,” Twilight said, allowing Dash to drop onto her hooves and take the front. There were still a few ponies passing through, prompting Dash to dart down into the alley behind the shop at the first possible moment.
“The blinds were all down,” Spike mentioned when they were surrounded by the enclosing brick walls of two buildings. “That can’t be a good sign.”
“You don’t have to tell me of all ponies to hurry up,” Rainbow whispered, “but I don’t wanna get caught. Here it is Twilight.” They were standing at the foot of a shabby set of iron steps leading to a heavily scratched and dented metal door.
“Go first Spike,” Twilight said, levitating him to the front of the door.
“Why me?!” he asked incredulously.
“Because you’re smaller than we are,” Rainbow hissed at him, scowling for good measure.
“Go, we’ll be right behind you once you give the all clear,” Twilight encouraged him. Although sighing heavily, Spike reached up and swung the heavy door open. To their benefit of their trio, it was well-oiled and slid open silently. Spike hesitantly stuck his head inside the kitchen, snapping it right and left repeatedly before moving his whole body inside. Twilight nervously tapped her hooves as they waited with only Spike’s scaly feet ticking on the tiled floor. Both she and Rainbow jumped in jittery surprise when he reappeared, frowning and motioning silently with a single finger for them to follow.
“What’s wrong?” Rainbow bent down to Spike’s ear whilst Twilight ever so carefully closed the door. The purple dragon drew two clamped talons across his lips significantly, and motioned for them to follow him again. He led them not into the dining area, but farther back into the kitchen where a smattering of pots and other cooking utensils were strewn about. Spike pointed at the mess, and mimed a struggle with an invisible opponent. Both Twilight and Rainbow Dash took his meaning with a solid but still nervous nod. They were all standing there, wondering how best to approach entering the dining area; as it was the only place Thunderlane, Inky Jay, and his accomplice could be. Without warning, a scream of pain blasted through the door to the front. It was that of a stallion, and even with ears flat to block the sound, both mares knew who it had to be. Rainbow Dash was naturally the first to overcome her instincts to flee, and motioned her head at her two companions to follow her. As deftly as was possible on hooves, she crept to the door that led behind the cashier desk. Shutting eyes tight in anticipation of being seen, Rainbow eased the door open just enough for her to crawl through. Nothing happened save the voices in the room coming to her ears.
“That was not true pain,” an unfamiliar but empowered mare’s voice growled. “That was only my magic infusing you with a safety measure. But if you are eager to experience true torture at my hooves, the continue to lie. What do you know of Aurora Streak’s vessel!?”
“I swear... I already told you...” Thunderlane’s voice followed, sporadic and drained. “I don’t... I don’t... know...” The mare from before roared out in frustration.
“You are being to direct,” Inky Jay’s voice said, although it was rather distant. “Remember, we cannot have this experience show any evidence of our presence. If you maim him in any way, he will have proof of our meddling.”
“Do you have any better ideas to extract the truth from him?” the mare lashed out.
“Maybe he isn’t lying,” Inky said, his voice becoming louder as his hooves could be heard walking around the dining area. “Perhaps he is telling the truth and we are missing the true culprit.” His tone becoming less detached and gaining its usual mockery, he added, “Surely you understood the odds of success at the first interrogation.”
“You are content with his answer because nothing precious to you has been taken,” the mare’s voice heightened. “I am not yet convinced.”
“Everything precious to me rides on this,” Inky shot back. “Don’t pretend to be the only victim, especially since your harm was only immediate.”
“I am still not satisfied,” the mare’s voice reiterated and the sound of a prepared spell flowed through the room. “And there are many spells that can induce pain in the mind alone.” Her statement was followed by the sounds of struggle, no doubt from Thunderlane.
Behind the counter, Rainbow Dash could take no more. She nodded purposefully to Twilight, who tensed her muscles in preparation. Rainbow extended out three feathers to one of her wings. Two were now out, and Spike was massaging his throat nervously. A single feather left, and Rainbow confirmed that they all were ready. She slashed her wing down, opening the other and leaping into the air above the counter. Twilight and Spike followed a moment later: the unicorn teleporting with a crack and flash in a fighting stance to the front of the desk and Spike leaping to stand on the booking machine, mouth ready to spew green flames. “Back away!” Rainbow belted out before having really taken a measure of the situation.
The reaction to their reveal was completely mixed. Thunderlane cried out in joy before being silenced by a forceful buck to the head by the mystery mare, whose horn was lit with threatening green magic and whose eyes darted swiftly between the three of them. Inky Jay stood slightly behind and to the right of the tied Thunderlane, and his expression was impossible to read. He was both shocked and angry like his fellow, but there was as well a hollow, calculating stiffness to his body.
“And why we should we?” the pearl mare hissed at Rainbow.
Turning her attention to the unicorn, she replied, “Three against two isn’t exactly good odds, and Twilight can whoop any unicorn in Equestria in a magic fight. The two of you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“You actually count the infantile dragon as an asset?” Inky asked, condescending but without much passion, like it was direct someplace else.
“Yes I do,” Twilight said defiantly, her horn beginning to spark dangerously, “and you should as well.”
“We don’t,” the mare said flatly. “You are the ones who should back away. You are dealing with powers far beyond you.”
“I’ll be the measure of that,” Twilight grimaced, before loosing a spell at the mare. The room exploded into action and noise. The mare growled in frustration, leaping behind a table as Twilight pelted bolts of magic in her direction. Wood splintered and flew through the air as the two fought, and Rainbow Dash dodged through the mess toward Inky Jay. Spike leapt down from the counter, rushing over to Thunderlane and breathing in to burn away the ropes holding him down. Everything would have gone perfectly if Inky had not thrown off his jacket.
Beneath it was a skeletal brass contraction attached to his ribs that he activated with two simple jerks of either foreleg. High powered springs released with a click inaudible over the battling unicorns, sending two objects flying to either side of the room to embed themselves in the walls with a small whump. Rainbow was bewildered just long enough for Inky to jump into the air and grab her around the chest, shoving the wind out of her lungs. Only his grip on her was shielding rather than aggressive. Before she had truly registered what was happening, Inky Jay burst through one of the glass windows with her, losing his grip and sending them both rolling injuriously over the stone. Glass shards clattered around them, and Rainbow as leaning up to attack the other pegasus when a whine inside the shop caught her attention. She had barely registered it when she was flung back onto the road, two explosions ripping through the restaurant. The glass was blasted outward, a gurgling, all-consuming roar accompanying the shock-wave and fire that cut through wood and brick to send a groaning roof into a collapse. Ringing lingered in Rainbow’s ears even as the sound and force of the explosions dies away, so she could not even hear herself screaming for her friends still inside.
The first sound that returned the sense of hearing to her was magic. Her watering eyes snapped to the side, to see a slightly singed and battered Twilight and Spike furiously glaring at Inky Jay. The pegasus eyed the three of them—the stiffness Rainbow had noticed before was gone and the look in his eyes as that of one relieved—as Twilight’s magic shoved him sharply up against a wall. “We need to go Twilight,” Rainbow managed to say, Thunderlane’s death still fresh in her mind despite being softened by Twilight and Spike’s survival. There was an odd sense of washing serenity knowing that they were not dead.
“He’s going to answer for what he did back there first,” Twilight seethed.
“She’s right Twilight Sparkle,” Inky said victoriously, though he winced when Twilight pushed him against the wall harder.
“We have him now,” Rainbow insisted. “We won’t be able to question him unless we’re someplace safe.”
“Got any suggestions?” Spike asked Rainbow.
“The library’s our best shot,” Rainbow said.
“Twilight, are you listening?” Spike asked concernedly, as she had not taken her eyes from her captive.
“I am,” Twilight said. “But I’m also thinking of how Princess Celestia would treat a monster like you,” she said glowering to Inky Jay.
“Monster?” Inky chuckled, mildly amused. “Would it change your perspective to know that both my colleague and your fellow citizen survived that blast?” Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Rainbow’s mouth dropped open.
“But the roof collapsed!” she protested. “Even Spike wouldn’t have survived that!”
“We need to get him out of the public so we lose this chance,” Twilight echoed Rainbow’s earlier words, bewilderment and curiosity having taken the place of rage. “Spike and I’ll take him back to the library. Rainbow, you round up our friends and tell them to meet us there. Tell them we found Inky.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Blessed silence surrounded her on all sides. This consuming silence was not abnormal, but there was always something different between silence amongst individuals and silence in the presence of one. Aurora Streak had experienced the silence of being alone for several hundred years, and while like all ponies she had at first despised and feared it; now, she cherished it. There was always a certain clarity to both her physical and mental movements when others were not around her. There were no pestering questions, awkward pauses in conversation, or hidden feelings waiting to be discovered.
It was why she preferred the company of her Devices over that of other beings. They only asked her questions that she would have asked herself in time; their speech was a soothing hum in the air to indicate their contained power; and being her creations, there was nothing about them she did not know. Of course, she was not so far gone as to consider her amalgamations of brass and magic to be alive. It just so happened that her Devices embodied those things that it seemed most living things actively sought, but paradoxically refused to obtain. They had a purpose; one that they carried out with no inhibition. So many ponies, even after discovering their special talent, still agonized over the method and place by and in which to use it. They waited for fate to show them a path; waited for life to point them in the ‘right’ direction. In short, they futilely held onto the idea of destiny.
She despised the very notion of destiny. It was an insipid way of explaining away misfortune and a pathetic attempt to act humble in the face of victory. She was her own pony and had been from the moment she began to take an interest in the only magic she could grasp. She had been the sole decision maker in her life, and she had long ago accepted the consequences for those decisions. She hated the idea of destiny, for it removed any sense of responsibility a pony would have for their life. And she knew full well that all ponies understood the reality of consequence. How they managed to hold onto both a belief and an ideal was beyond her, and she was determined to make them see the light.
That being said, there were two projects demanding her attention in regards to her second demonstration. The Element of Magic, Twilight Sparkle, was still restless and needed to be placated before being shown Aurora’s crowning achievement. As it were, she intended to actually employ the unicorn’s assistance for her next demonstration. She—and by extension Inky Jay—easily understood how her cutie mark research operated; but, unfortunately, this experienced understanding would prevent either of them from coming up with a satisfactory way of explaining it to the limited minds of the masses. And thus, Aurora would employ Magic for the task. She could defuse the tensions between herself and the Element, while simultaneously gaining the layman’s understanding of her cutie mark science to better regurgitate it to the Ponyville citizens.
In this issue Aurora was confident she would have few, if any, problems. Her other pressing concern, however, was not so easily diminished. Chrysalis was rapidly becoming the rebellious servant she never could—or ever would—tolerate. Her interests were not tied to Aurora’s own like Inky’s were; and therefore, she was only willing to follow her creator so long as she could see some benefit for her own people. The death of one of her Changelings had only accelerated her displeasure with Aurora and it had taken all of her cunning to devise the plan of distraction to hold her at bay.
But that plan was only staving off the inevitable. Chrysalis would not stay satiated forever, and she would eventually realize that Aurora’s promise of life in a new and reformed Equestria was to come at the cost of hundreds of Changeling lives. As such, Aurora was under the need to remove Chrysalis from her circle while keeping the Changelings. While a Device was the clear answer, Aurora did not have the time to craft one to her usual exactness.
Were she blessed with the proper amount of time, she would study evolved Changeling magic until she had discovered the properties of the magical bond that linked Changelings to their queen. The resulting Device would generate a field that would redirect that connection to her ponysona. As it stood, such specific standards were not possible; the Device to be used instead would be drawing power and riding upon fields already in place. The effect she desired was to be accomplished by two types of Devices working in tandem. At present, she was preparing her last Device of the jerry-rigged network. The first was linked and adding its effect to the Device that alerted her to the presence of any Ascended ponies. Its sole ability was to gather stray thoughts that belonged to an insecure telepathic network. Inwardly, she was glad she had taken Chrysalis’s suggestion to wear her bangles at all times, for they made keeping the primary Device active much less strenuous. If her theory was correct, the primary Device’s link to Aurora’s own mind would send the gathered Changeling thoughts to her once their mental link to Chrysalis was disrupted. She would not be able to replace Chrysalis as the security blanket for the network, but it would give her the necessary position to command them.
The second set of Devices was to disrupt the connection between the Changelings and Chrysalis. There was no way for her to sever it completely, for that would require Aurora to study its exact nature. She could, however, use Devices to generate telepathic interference of which there were many kinds. Her choice was simple in nature, but she had linked the Devices broadcasting it into all the Devices powering her protective fields. The result would heavily compound the interference until it resembled a more sophisticated form of disruption.
All of her other Devices were prepared, and she stood before the back-end of the primary cone screeching and whining as it poured magic energy into the dome surrounding Ponyville. On a cart beside her rested the final Device of her modifications. Her face still impassive with concentration on the task at hoof, she deftly pressed against a pedal in the floor. A Device could be heard firing below the wood, and the clanking of heavy gearworks soon followed. The floorboards before her slid away and up rose a platform whose base appeared as a convoluted mass of brass piping. Nozzles at the surface of this mass were connected to a grand total of one hundred forty-four Devices all of the same kind. They were the ultimate power source for the pink dome. Aurora took a moment to gaze at them with intense satisfaction; it having been some time since she had last seen the purer glory of her inventions. But the moment passed, and the urgency of her work returned her focus. With a steady hoof, she slid back a lever on one of the exterior Devices, gradually shrinking its magic flow until it was deactivated. It’s complete shutdown was signaled by a quick flickering flash of the dome outside.
Now sure it would not release its magic once she removed it, Aurora unlatched it from its nozzle and gently eased it into her cart. The alternate Device came into place only seconds later, looking identical to its brethren, save the difference in the etched letters. Aurora secured it with the latches to the nozzle and was just about to begin to ease its magic into the system when her concentration was interrupted by a mental warning from the Ascension detecting Device. She had been plagued by an occasional alert when she had first arrived and the pegasi had not known the detrimental effects of the field. It had been for this irritating reason she had deactivated the field up until the earlier infiltration and Changeling death. But the pegasi had quickly learned to stay well away from the ship and she had not yet had an incident. At least until now. Whoever the pony was, their actions had to be deliberate. Those foalish idiots, she cursed angrily as she stalked over to a hidden panel at the opposite end of the room. It would not surprise me if they were indeed older foals. Fillies and colts never understood boundaries then, and it seems they still do not, no matter their Ascension or lack thereof.
She forcefully slid back a wall panel, revealing not a room, but a Device mounted on an iron tripod at eye level. A quick push on its underside mounted trigger and the magic within could be heard funneling through the interior channels like the sounds of rushing fire and water. Aurora’s face remained stonily cold as a beam lanced out and struck her body before she disappeared completely. She opened her eyes and breathed again when she could see the nozzle of the second Device in a transit room just off the top deck. It was a circular expanse situated just beneath the pipes expelling the excess smoke from her fire Devices, and it was lined with well over three dozen teleportation Devices all capable of sending a pony to any important area of the ship.
The one she had just exited was situated relatively close to the exit, and Aurora moved out onto the deck supremely cross and prepared to berate the ponies like the foalish, short-sighted creatures they were. What she found, however, disarmed her like nothing else ever had. A simple grey mare with a blonde mane and tail was curiously and carefully walking along the deck, mail bags hanging over her sides. Her eyes were walled, though she did not seem impaired by this, and in her mouth was a single letter. She seemed completely unperturbed that her wings were not serving as well as they ought, and the expression in her walled eyes was more one of interest than fear. “Who are you?” Aurora asked, striding up to her. The voice that had manifested in her as Luna’s favorite researcher and as a pony of strong ideals was momentarily softened by the intrigue Aurora could not help feel when she looked at this mare.
The mail carrier before her jumped slightly at being addressed so suddenly and without any warning of the speaker’s approach, but she recovered rather swiftly, taking the letter from her mouth and saying cheerfully, “Derpy Hooves, mail mare. I have a letter to your assistant Inky Jay from Pinkie Pie. This is nice flying boat you have.”
“I am aware of the one you call Pinkie Pie,” Aurora said, taking the letter from Derpy. “Though I know her by her proper name. And the House of a Thousand Fangs is the only one of its kind across the whole of the earth.”
“I didn’t know Pinkie had another name,” Derpy confessed, though not ashamedly. “While I’m here, were there any letters you wanted carried down into Ponyville?”
“If there were anything I needed to say to them, I would do it in person,” Aurora replied, her level of curiosity in this mare’s contradiction of appearance and Ascended nature fading. She had caught a brief glimpse of her cutie mark of bubbles, and while Aurora could not determine her special talent by that alone, it was evident that natural Ascension for her would be far less constrained than that of other ponies. In fact, it was completely possible that whatever ailed her eyes had been mitigated in part by her Ascension.
Aurora was just about to rather flatly send Derpy away when an explosion rocked the air in Ponyville. The roar of the detonation lingered after the initial shock wave had been felt, but there were no screams to accompany it. Without a word to the mail mare, Aurora whipped around and strode back into the teleportation nexus. Those were the grenadier Devices I gave Inky Jay, this and other thoughts flew through her mind even as she was teleported back down into the cavernous room she had previously been working in. Chrysalis must have come very close to discovering the one of the Elements as the true culprit behind the Changeling death. If things are beginning to accelerate this quickly, my summons of Magic could not come at a better time. She and Ponyville will now be teetering dangerously close to being lost to me forever, and unless they can be convinced, my revolution will stand no chance. I will give Inky Jay some time to explain himself to her, or whichever Element has happened to apprehend him. In addition, I need the extra time to siphon away control of the Changelings. If Chrysalis is as resilient as she seems, that explosion will not have killed her; but instead I will now be forced to reckon with a wild card I had hoped to keep in my hand until the very end.
As her plans reshaped themselves around the new development, she activated the first interference Device and lowered the apparatus back into the floor. Three more Devices awaited activation before the Changelings on board her ship were secure, and being that they were separated from the primary systems, she could not rely on her bangles to do it for her. She stood resolute before the teleporting Device once again, already organizing her mind for the task of managing the Changelings.
Applejack carefully scrutinized the bizarre harness now resting on a chair rather than around Inky Jay’s chest. That infamous pegasus was behind her, being bound and gagged expertly by Twilight and Rarity. Rainbow Dash was outside, keeping watch from the sky; Pinkie Pie guarding their captive with a raptor’s gaze. Fluttershy stood next to Applejack, supposed to be helping, but she had not yet offered any words on her opinion of the harness. Applejack understood next to nothing of the contraption’s launching mechanism and had thus focused her attention on how the entire ensemble fit together on a pony’s body.
Applejack could see it fit much like any normal harness, and was just about to tell Twilight she could see nothing special or suspicious on it, when Fluttershy gently asked, “Do you... do you mind if I try something?”
“Sure,” Applejack replied, stepping to the side to give Fluttershy more room. “I ain’t seein’ nothin’ on it that’d be strange or nothin’. I’m more interested in wha’ this here pegasus’s got to say for himself.” With this, she looked coldly upon Inky, whose blank eyes had not shifted past looking more than irritated. When Applejack turned her attention back to Fluttershy and the harness, her friend was moving the jointed ‘arms’ that had been attached to Inky’s forelegs via cuffs. She was incredibly purposeful in every movement, and Applejack could eventually see she was mimicking a walk cycle. Without any warning, Fluttershy yanked back on both ‘arms’ resulting a quick snap as springs released the launching mechanism.
“Oh, that’s very clever,” Fluttershy said—more to herself than anypony else—as all of her present friends turned at the sound.
“Are we safe?” Twilight asked Applejack and Fluttershy.
“Well seein’ as you din’t find any magic innit,” Applejack replied, “and I don’t see nothin’ that looks outa place... I’d say we’re good. Fluttershy?”
“I can’t find anything,” Fluttershy answered, “though I could be wrong.”
“You figured out how it works dear,” Rarity complimented her, “so I think if anything seemed out of place you would have seen it.”
“Oh thank you,” Fluttershy said, her abashed nature taking hold, “but I only knew because Rainbow Dash told me what he did right before the explosives were launched.”
“I think we can safely call in Rainbow Dash, Twilight,” Rarity said.
“Spike!” Twilight called, followed by the quick appearance of her assistant on the interior balcony. “Get Rainbow, we’re ready.” He nodded solemnly, still not quite yet recovered from nearly being incinerated and crushed. In the small interim, Twilight and her other friends gathered around Inky, who stalwartly refused to look any direction but straight ahead. “Listen up,” Twilight said forcefully to him. “There’s a lot that Aurora’s not telling us, and after what you just did in that shop, I’m demanding answers. Now, you and I both know that I can’t keep you here forever. All the same, you’re going to answer our questions. And you’re going to tell us the truth. Got it?” She stared purposefully into Inky’s set pupils, giving him no choice but to look at her. He gave no indication that he had heard except to dart his eyes down to his gag significantly.
“You’d better not scream,” Pinkie warned him seriously, receiving only an exaggerated roll of the eyes for a response. With Rainbow Dash and Spike’s return to the library’s main floor, Twilight magically undid the gag, eliciting a fresh intake of air from Inky.
“Was all of this really necessary?” were the first words to come from him, scratchy and perpetually condescending as ever. “Chasing down a stallion and dragging him from the air doesn’t exactly endear you to him.” He pointedly looked to Rainbow Dash, who only glared back.
“From what Twilight says,” Applejack drew his attention, “ya wouldn’ ‘ave taken us seriously if we hadn’ went an’ done all this.”
“And who is to say that still won’t be the case,” Inky replied sharply. “All I see is a group of mares desperate to avert change that is historically inevitable.”
“Don’t play around,” Rainbow shot back. “Twilight got a bad vibe from Aurora from the beginning, and I... we know that she has Changelings on board that ship!”
“So a single mare has the wrong hairs stand up on the back of her mane and all of her friends think that is legitimate reason to pursue a stallion for interrogation?” Inky said deridingly.
“Ooh you are good,” Rarity said, frustrated and impressed at the same time. “Do not think you are in control of this conversation mister. Twilight was not the only reason. As Rainbow Dash said, we know there are Changelings with her.”
“And so what if there are?” Inky fought. “Equality is not just for ponies, but for all sentient life. Changelings included.”
“Nice try,” Rainbow said, “but we were there when the Changeling’s attacked Canterlot. We know what kind of brutes they are.”
“What does Aurora really want?” Twilight cut in flatly. “The point isn’t why I had a bad feeling or why she has Changelings with her—”
“Wait, it’s not?” Rainbow asked, confused.
“No, Rainbow, it just means she isn’t telling us the whole truth and that she has things she doesn’t want us to know. What does she have planned?”
“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Inky replied. “Do you really think she would tell me everything?”
“You have to know something,” Rarity said, disbelieving the pegasus’s claim.
“Stop playing games!” Rainbow yelled, angrily hovering in his face. “Answer Twilight’s question, or by Celestia’s mane I’ll beat that scratch out of your voice!”
“You were the one,” Inky answered, smirking realization in his voice. “Aurora guessed correctly. You killed the Changeling.” Each of the friends in the room said nothing, letting awkward silence reign. “You should be thanking me,” Inky said to Rainbow, as if there had never been a pause. “I saved your life back in that little shop.”
“Now, we’re gettin’ somewhere,” Applejack was the first to recover. “If ya can’t tell us nothin’ ‘bout Aurora, how ya come ‘bout thinkin’ ya saved Rainbow’s here life by blowin’ up a business? An’ whydya save ‘er in the first place?”
“The more important question Applejack,” Rarity corrected, before being interrupted by Pinkie Pie.
“Why were you being so mean to the bagel pegasus? He didn’t do anything wrong,” she asked.
“Correct, he was innocent and I knew that full well,” Inky replied without a hint of remorse. “But my colleague did not, and that was exactly the point.”
“Who was she?” Twilight asked stonily. “Was she a Changeling?”
“Now you begin to catch on, if a little late,” Inky said to her. “Changelings are a tight knit group of creatures that do not suffer the death of one of their own lightly. Recompense was demanded, but Aurora could not reveal the true nature of her suspect, for reasons she did not tell me. I was tasked in keeping the Changeling away from discovering your true roles in the creature’s death, by any means necessary. With your untimely and ludicrously confident arrival, I had little choice but to offer up my best distraction.”
“And you fancied that killing poor Thunderlane was worth it?” Rarity asked, disgusted.
“How many times will I have to repeat myself?” Inky asked impatiently. “He will not have died. Neither will the Changeling, unfortunately. They will have teleported out before being destroyed, just as I knew Twilight and the dragon would be able to. The pegasus will have been taken with the Changeling for continued interrogation until it is satisfied of his innocence.”
“That’s one hay of a stretch,” Applejack said skeptically.
“Is it?” Inky asked. “Your dragon and unicorn friend are standing safely next to you.”
“So you may have explained away blowing up a whole shop,” Twilight said, still cold, “but you haven’t proved to me that you don’t know anything else about Aurora’s plans.”
“Difficult prick to please aren’t you?” Inky said.
“She can be a might bit annoyin’ at times,” Applejack said, smiling sheepishly at Twilight, “but she ain’t a prick. An’ Twilight, he’s tellin’ the truth. We ain’t the only ones she’s hidin’ stuff from.”
“I don’t know AJ,” Pinkie said, leery. “My Pinkie Sense says he isn’t telling us the whole truth.”
“Of course I’m not telling you rabble the whole truth,” Inky scoffed. “She has things she will tell you in time. I know about them, but it is not my place to say anything.”
“We ain’t gettin’ no more outa him Twi,” Applejack said. “And no Rainbow Dash, beatin’ him up wouldn’ get us anywhere, even if he does deserve it.”
“I suggest you let me go soon,” Inky added. “My Lady will not have cared about what I have told you, nor that you have taken me captive. In fact, she will consider it a job well done now that you are all warned of your danger. You need not worry about retribution from her.”
“As horribly unjust as it is,” Rarity said, “I do not see that we have another choice.”
“Untie him then,” Twilight sighed. “But!” she regained her vigor as Rarity undid the bonds, “you must carry a message to Aurora from me. I want to meet with her as soon as possible.”
“Of course,” Inky replied. “As much as you refuse to see it, she wants the ponies on her side.”
“We see it alright,” Pinkie replied, defiant. “But she doesn’t care about our smiles and how we are. Not like Princess Celestia.”
“And you would know exactly how a Princess millennia old feels,” Inky said sharply as he strode between the gathered friends to the door. “Watch yourselves. Changeling vengeance doesn’t die with a simple setback.” With a quick glance at the sky directly above the library before, Inky zipped into the air, angling for the House of a Thousand Fangs.
“ARGHH!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed once he had gone. “That was helpful,” she said sarcastically. Mimicking Inky’s voice rather well, she continued, “I can’t tell you anything important, except, oh yeah, that’s right, there’s a Changeling on the revenge path trying to kill you.”
“Even if he thinks he didn’t,” Twilight admonished her friend mildly. “He did tell me something other than that.”
“I didn’ get anything out o’ him,” Applejack replied, perplexed.
“Me neither,” Spike added, relief clear in his voice. “He’s worse than... he’s just worse.”
“True dat,” Rainbow agreed with Spike.
“I see what you are saying dear,” Rarity answered Twilight.
“Even if we don’t know what they are exactly, Aurora has plans for us,” Twilight elaborated. “Which means that she somehow knows that we bear the Elements of Harmony. She won’t be able to dodge so direct a question.”
“Unless she blasts you to pieces with an explosive for asking,” Rainbow Dash said cynically.
“Nah,” Pinkie reassured her, “Twilight’s too good at magic for that to happen.”
“Rainbow’s got a point though,” Applejack said. “Whatever you do, watch yerself ‘round her. She didn’ have any problems with lettin’ Inky blow stuff up and lettin’ a pony be tortured, so who knows what’d she do personally.”
“Point taken,” Twilight nodded. “But before we do anything else, we need to try to find Thunderlane. Can I trust you to find him Fluttershy?”
“Why me?” Fluttershy asked timidly, trying to appear as small as possible.
“Well, your animal friends that are still inside the bubble can help, and the Changeling will probably be looking for just me and Rainbow Dash now. You should be safe.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to leave poor Thunderlane all alone if he’s hurt...” Fluttershy thought aloud. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” Twilight said, then turning to her other friends, she added, “Now that we know we’re all being hunted, try to stay in pairs if you can. And go outside as little as possible. Fluttershy, if you want anypony to come with you...”
“No, no, it’s okay,” Fluttershy replied mildly. “I have all the animals, so they can keep me company and keep me safe.”
“It’s the aftermath of the Changeling Invasion all over again,” Pinkie said defeatedly.
“It shouldn’t last as long Pinkie,” Twilight consoled. “Now that I have something to work with, Aurora will have to answer me.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Rarity and Pinkie Pie were off for a much needed spa treatment. Rainbow Dash was in pursuit of Fluttershy, her instincts shoving aside Twilight’s warnings about drawing the Changeling’s attention in the need to see to her close friend’s safety. This left Twilight at the library with Applejack and Spike. Twilight’s dragon assistant was currently occupied at a small writing desk, scribbling out his thoughts as Twilight often did when she was under stress. Applejack had not said anything since the departure of the rest of their friends, her face set emotionlessly as she pondered deeply. Twilight herself occupied her attention with Inky’s harness, slowly dismantling it with magic.
“Twi?” Applejack said, her voice appearing louder after the long note of silence just before.
“What’s on your mind AJ?” Twilight replied, still concentrating on separating some of the smallest parts she had ever seen into groups.
“I saw what ya meant when ya said Aurora was plannin’ somethin’ with tha Elements, but ya got any ideas what?” Applejack answered.
“It must have something to do with her technology,” Twilight said vaguely. “That magic form is obviously her talent, so I can’t see how it would be anything but that. Maybe she thinks the Elements are ancient Devices. Who knows.”
“See tha’s what I was thinkin’ ‘bout,” Applejack said, frustrated from being stumped in her thoughts. “But we ain’t got ‘em here. If them Elements are what she was after all along, why come here?”
“The Princesses, AJ,” Twilight said mildly. “She’s scared of them. Why do you think the field is up?”
“Okay, tha’ makes sense ‘til ya start thinkin’ ‘bout her demos,” Applejack said. “If she’s jus’ tryin’ to hide from the Princesses, why try ta impress us?”
“I don’t know AJ,” Twilight replied, turning to face her friend as she had finished sorting out the harness parts. “I just don’t know. She has a grudge against Princess Celestia, so she may be trying to subvert her. The thing is, her inventions would only give benefit to us, and thus to the princess as well.” Applejack sighed, shaking her head at all the loose ends not connecting to one another. “I know. It’s a complete mess,” Twilight agreed. “Just trust me AJ. Knowing that it’s a mess is the first step to cleaning it up.”
“I trust ya sugarcube,” Applejack replied. “It’s her I don’ trust. I know tha’s kinda obvious, but I jus’ couldn’ forgive myself if ya got hurt or worse.”
“Somepony has to do something though Applejack,” Twilight said. “And even if my magic won’t work when I’m on board the ship, I still know the most about it out of all of us. I’ll be okay. The Princess taught me a few things about treading carefully, and I think I can put them to use.” Applejack forced a smile for Twilight; for no matter all the reasoning in the world, she would not be able to rest easy until Aurora had left them for good. Twilight smiled back at her friend, giving her a warm hug as well. “Try not to worry,” Twilight said, breaking from the embrace.
Applejack was about to reply, when she was interrupted by a strangled cry from Spike. Both ponies whipped around, bearing witness to a ring of heatless green fire having erupted on the library’s main floor. Twilight was unable to hold back a gasp, while Applejack swore. Dragon and mares backed as far from the ring of fire as they could, Twilight readying a spell on her horn. With a whooshing roar, the flames flared brighter and sent up a dome of sickly green magic within their ring. Seconds later, the flames vanished, but the dome remained. “Lower your horn!” an aggressive, but magically distorted voice called out from inside the dome.
Twilight grimaced, not wasting any time before firing her spell at the magic. The powers met with a momentary blinding flash of white and the sound of clanging metal. When Twilight and her friends looked back, the only evidence to her attack was ripples on the dome like a stone had been dropped in a pool. “Simple stunning spells will not break this barrier!” the mangled voice said. “Try anything more, and the pegasus dies!”
“Hold up Twi!” Applejack put a foreleg out in front of her. “I think it’s talkin’ ‘bout Thunderlane.”
“Show yourself!” Twilight demanded. “And release Thunderlane! He has nothing to do with this!”
“So I found out,” the voice replied flatly unamused. “Take him!” Before either Applejack or Twilight were ready, Thunderlane’s limp, unconscious body was flung with magical force from within the dome. He crumpled and slid across the wood, Applejack at his side the moment he had stopped moving. Like Twilight and Spike, he was mildly singed from the explosion, but this aside, he seemed healthy.
“He looks alright,” Applejack confirmed for Twilight.
“Any wounds inflicted upon him by the explosion I healed to the best of my ability,” the dome said. “Consider it... a good-will offering. You will do nothing once a I lower this shield.”
“I’m not that naive,” Twilight retorted. “We already know you are a Changeling. I’m putting up a defensive wall, but I promise not to attack you.” This she did, extending a barrier around her, Applejack, Thunderlane, and Spike. It glowed a soft, translucent violet, ringing of bells when it was secure. “You can lower your shield now.” Nothing happened for the first few seconds, the voice note even acknowledging her.
Twilight had been expecting a slow shrinking of the magic into nothing, but quite to the contrary, the field exploded with an electrical zap in a shower of green sparks that gradually winked out of existence. Twilight had been expecting a normal Changeling, perhaps altered slightly if it were one of Chrysalis’s Deceiver Guard. Instead, she was faced with the Changeling queen herself, and only mental fortitude born of years of intense study prevented her from lowering the shield and attacking Chrysalis. Applejack was not so restrained. “Sweet Celestia!” she swore, quickly assuming a fighting position. “You’d better have some sorta spell for this Twi!”
“I do, but I don’t want to use it just yet,” Twilight replied, her eyes never leaving Chrysalis’s own pupils. These had never left Twilight either, darting from a serious, intent focus to half-amusement and back again. “So you were the one leading the Changelings on Aurora’s ship. We should have known.”
“That you should have, but of greater importance is why I am here after that pair’s betrayal of me,” Chrysalis said, her voice still sounding distorted, but nearly as heavily as she had made it before. “Surely you are wondering.”
“I am,” Twilight replied cautiously. “Why don’t you tell us?”
“Lower the shield you have,” Chrysalis said back calmly. “Your fellow pegasus will suffer her punishment for her murder in time, but for now a greater crime has been committed against me. I... I need your help.”
“Ha ha!” Applejack laughed, “that’s rich! Twi, you keep this here shield up, no exceptions.” Only after she had taken in Chrysalis’s expression did her tone change and she ask, “Wait, you ain’t serious are ya?”
“I am,” Chrysalis replied gravely. “And believe me, if had any other choice, I would take it. The thought of working with the friends of the murderer of one of my children twists my soul.”
“So what happened?” Twilight asked again.
Chrysalis smiled deviously before saying, “We cannot hope to work together with you constantly behind that shield. Lower it.”
“She ain’t lyin’ ‘bout needin’ help Twi,” Applejack counseled her. “But it just don’ seem right to be so vulnerable ‘round her.”
“She’ll be more help than Inky Jay,” Twilight decided, shrinking her shield until it winked out of existence.
“Relax,” Chrysalis said to them, as all three were still incredibly tense.
“Oh sure,” Spike said sardonically. “Relax around the only creature I’ve ever seen defeat Celestia. Sure.”
“We aren’t going to be able to relax anytime soon,” Twilight said. “There’s too much between us for that. You want to reverse that? Tell us what happened and everything you know about Aurora. Inky Jay wasn’t helpful at all.”
“I know even less than that annoying scribe of a peasant,” Chrysalis decried Inky. “I can tell you, though, that there are one thousand prime Changelings aboard the House of a Thousand Fangs.”
“One thousand!?” Twilight was only able to repeat in pure shock.
“That’s the size of a small army!” Applejack added.
“It is a small army,” Chrysalis corrected her. “When Aurora came to us, that was her request. To give you an idea of scale, there were roughly eight thousand Changelings that invaded Canterlot.”
“Did Aurora say why she wanted an army?” Twilight asked, curious, while the other two thought back to the size of horde in the Canterlot invasion. “Here, take a seat on the sofa.” She motioned to the reading couch, taking three sitting pillows for herself and her friends. Chrysalis lay upon the couch comfortably without thanks, instead answering Twilight’s question.
“No, she did not,” Chrysalis said. “All she said was that she might need them in the end to bring about a new era in Equestria. One where Changelings lived free among ponies. That alone would not have convinced me, but... other arguments and her display of her machines was enough.”
“But we shouldn’ have ta worry ‘bout invasion or nothin’,” Applejack said, as if trying to convince herself of it as well.
“Before Inky Jay attempting to separate us, yes, there would have been no worry, for your kind,” Chrysalis answered, Twilight noticing an odd amount of effort in her straight tone. “That is no longer the case.” Whatever had been holding any emotion other than superiority out of her voice vanished with these few words. The only way Twilight had ever heard Chrsyalis speak before was in victorious glee; thus, it was odd to hear her voice drop into a near whisper brought upon by fear: fear motivated by love.
“Oh horseapples,” Applejack swore again. “What’d tha’ no-good, double-crossin’ allicorn do this time?”
“She... she stole them from me,” Chrysalis said, strength returning waveringly to her voice. If she had not been in the company of ponies that were effectively her enemies, Twilight thought she might have shed tears.
“But that doesn’t make sense,” Spike said flatly. “The Changelings are all super loyal to you right? It’s not like Aurora could sway them onto your side like she can ponies.”
“Good point Spike,” Applejack backed him up.
“How does that spawn of Tartarus do everything?” Chrysalis asked cynically, unable to keep her protective fury from coming through.
“She used a Device,” Twilight guessed.
“And the trouble is, I have no idea how she has managed it in so short a time,” Chrysalis said, still seething. “I had teleported away from the explosion, intending to immediately command some to attack her and others to capture your blue pegasus friend.”
“Go on,” Twilight said, doing her best to glaze over the last bit.
“But when I reappeared in a safe alley with that one you called Thunderlane,” Chrysalis continued, “there was... a disturbance.”
“How dya mean?” Applejack asked.
“Changelings have a universal telepathic network,” Chrysalis elaborated shortly. “I could feel them, but there was something keeping my instructions from reaching them. I thought it might be after-effects from the shock wave at first, but as I considered this, I... I lost them completely.”
“So you mean that the loss was gradual?” Twilight asked. She knew about the telepathic network from reports Princess Celestia had been kind enough to send her after the Canterlot invasion; and from the way the investigators had described it, Chrysalis’s connection with her subjects was not one that could be broken easily.
“Yes,” Chrysalis answered, having regained what little composure she had at first lost. “I cannot imagine their panic without my mind to unite the network. Aurora may be able to steal the connection with her machines, but a machine will not suffice as a substitute for a living mind.”
“Maybe Aurora is just taking your place,” Spike said, and though he meant no malice, both Twilight and Applejack saw Chrysalis’s visage darken at the very possibility.
“That cretin does not have the mental fortitude to command nine hundred ninety-nine independent minds. Simply controlling her machines with her mind is tiring for her,” the queen spat.
“Wait, she can do that?!” Twilight asked, shocked. Chrysalis certainly was proving more helpful and informative than Inky Jay.
“Only for specific systems,” Chrysalis explained. “And I know this only by experience. She requires the red bangles she wears on her hind legs to do it as well. I believe they are enchanted to be in connection with several Devices that synchronize all of the parts to a system.”
“This is all very interestin’ and everythang,” Applejack said blankly, “but ya still haven’t ‘plained why ya need our help.”
“You are clearly objects of her interests,” Chrysalis replied. “But you are at the same time at odds with her. We are united in this sentiment. Never before has a Changeling monarch had his or her subjects so blatantly usurped, and I will not allow the attempt to end in anything but failure. If you aid me in reclaiming that which should never have been stolen from me, I will share all that I know about the interior of Aurora’s vessel.”
“Okay, that’s sounds like a good deal and everything,” Spike said, skeptical, “but we were doing just fine without you before. And you want to punish Rainbow Dash later. Why would we help you when you still want to do that?”
“So that is the pegasus’s name,” Chrysalis said, her tone unchanging, but her eyes narrowing viciously at the very mention of Dash and her crime. “If any of your own were killed by a Changeling, would you not demand punishment to be dealt?” And before any of them could answer, Chrysalis pressed on, “My request is no different, and you might consider, that I will only refrain from slaughtering her in judgment and rightful vengeance if she negates some of her guilt with her assistance to my plight.” If Chrysalis’s own detestation of the ponies was clear in her reaction to Rainbow Dash; the reciprocal was equally evident on the faces of Twilight, Applejack, and Spike upon hearing Chrysalis’s words. Taking advantage of their silence, Chrysalis continued, “And if you have any hope of bringing her to her knees where she ought to be now, you will need our help. Six mares alone will not be able to break her defenses.”
Twilight sat, absently staring at a bookshelf in thought. So much of what Chrysalis was saying was true, and yet it was because of that truth that Twilight was struggling to side with her. Rainbow Dash had already suffered enough under the weight of her own guilt. That was punishment enough in Twilight’s eyes. But she remembered many a time when she had committed some sin, and even with her guilt, Princess Celestia had always seen to it that there was a real world consequence to be had. How could she try to protect Rainbow without seeming like a hypocrite and misrepresenting her mentor? She concluded that she could not. That, and Chrysalis was the big break she had been hoping Inky Jay would have been. If she was to uncover the complete truth about Aurora, she could not fight the reality that they needed Chrysalis.
“We have a deal,” Twilight said firmly.
“Wait! Twi! Ya can’t be serious!” Applejack burst out before Chrysalis could even respond.
“We need her Applejack,” Twilight said, trying her best to calm her friend down. “And she makes good points, on all fronts. Aurora is the one we need to focus on.”
“I dunno Twilight,” Spike said, casting quick, uncomfortable glances at Chrysalis. “She... she’s just plain creepy.”
“Would your comfort be eased by this?” Chrysalis asked with a sly smile before a flash of green magic consumed her, only to reveal a perfect replica of Twilight.
“GAH! Don’t... don’t do that! Go back! Go back!” Spike cried out, covering his eyes. Chrysalis huffed in something akin to mild amusement before shifting back to her natural form.
“Okay,” Applejack said to the queen, “ya can help an’ all, but I swear by Celestia tha’ if ya do one thang I don’ like, I’ll buck you all the way ta Manehattan.”
“AJ, that’s not really the best way to—” Twilight said, only to be interrupted.
“Duly noted,” Chrysalis inserted to Applejack.
“Well okay then,” Twilight said, awkwardly sarcastic. “How should we go about telling the girls?”
“Spike an’ I can run an’ get Rarity and Pinkie,” Applejack suggested. “Dash and Fluttershy should be back on their own after a while when they can’t find poor Thunderlane.”
“You will no doubt be called back soon to Aurora’s ship after sending out the request with Inky Jay,” Chrysalis said. “Do not call them back yet. Any new information you have after the visit can be melded with what I possess all at once rather than separately.”
“And they need some time to rest after all that’s happened,” Twilight added. “Yeah, just wait Applejack. I want to take some notes to organize what we know so far anyway. Spike, quill at the ready.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Inky Jay soared over Ponyville, bearing straight for the House of a Thousand Fangs. He knew the Elements had been sorely displeased by his answers, however much they were true. In this alone, he feared Aurora might be displeased. Her goal, after all, was to bring in the Elements to her fold, and Inky himself had done nothing to aid on that front. Though without Chrysalis to contend with any longer, things might go more smoothly. In fact, Aurora might be able to turn Chrysalis’s stalking of the Elements to her favor; providing a Device that would eliminate the need for constant vigilance. As Inky came to this possibility, he wondered with an revelatory huff if Aurora had planned to use Chrysalis for that very purpose from the beginning.
Thoughts of Chrysalis and the Elements—particularly of Twilight Sparkle and her request for an audience—followed him as his wing beats became more labored upon entering Aurora’s protective fields and finally landing on the ship’s deck. He was accustomed to being greeted by her moments after his arrival, and was thus surprised when it was not Aurora, but some nameless Changeling that met him. “Where is Lady Aurora?” he asked bluntly.
“She is our comforter while we search for our queen,” the Changeling replied in its chittery voice. “She tells us want we ought to do and tells us that we are still safe.”
“I didn’t ask what she was or what she was doing,” Inky snapped impatiently, his answer to how Aurora was managing so many Changelings partially given. “I want to know where she is.”
“Comforter is in her place of work, as always,” the Changeling replied. “Have you seen our queen? She was with you in the town the last we knew.”
“There was a mishap,” Inky said carefully, unsure if Aurora’s methods for controlling the creatures would hold against the truth. “She could be anywhere below right now.”
“We see,” the Changeling replied worriedly, the most emotion Inky had ever heard in a Changeling outside of Chrysalis. “We will tell all the others of this.” Inky’s only response was a brisk nod before his hooves descended down the stairs into the ship’s belly. There was always the option of Aurora’s teleportation network, but Inky had never liked the idea of teleportation and after having gone through it with Chrysalis, knew why. So familiar was he with the ship’s many corridors and rooms that his hooves all but carried him to Aurora’s lab by themselves. He was on the third floor, opening a floor hatch to the access tunnels which provided a convenient short-cut through the ship, when he felt the air around him shift. His wings ruffled slightly as he turned to see Aurora walking toward him as silently as ever. Only, she was not alone. At least two hundred of the Changelings were gathered all about her, squeezing themselves into the hall to surround her every careful hoofstep. They were not an confused mess of tangled creatures attempting to be the closest to her, but rather they were ordered and collected around her. The outer Changelings appeared fierce and battle-ready while those closer to the inside gazed up hopefully at her. And for it all, Aurora maintained a sense of power. It was that of severely drained power to be sure, but she had certainly not let the burden of the Changelings bring her to her knees.
“I assume your system is imperfect then,” Inky said, eyes continually darting from Aurora to the horde surrounding her.
“That would be an apt description,” Aurora answered, weariness more present in her speech than her physical appearance. “If I am to continue to work,” she continued, motioning to the Changelings about her, “this is price I pay. I expend far too much energy trying to keep them all away, as my connection to them is not natural as it is for Chrysalis.”
“Will it hold?” Inky asked, still leery of the Changelings’ reaction to the truth.
“Chrysalis would need to break through three different varieties of telepathic interference,” Aurora replied assuredly. “While it is within her power, it would take her far too long to be useful.”
“Why do they not rebel when you mention Chrysalis in that way?” Inky asked, the contradiction being as sharp as night and day.
“It seems that Changelings have two mindsets,” Aurora said shortly. “Those that have been given duties to carry out have a measure of independence, while those that have not wait upon and protect the one at the center of their telepathic network. Enough of this talk of things that have already been resolved. What were the questions of the Elements?”
“They had no real questions,” Inky said, waving his hoof in general condescension. “They simply demanded I tell them everything I knew about your plans.”
“You did, did you not?” Aurora asked, her tone clear that only one answer would be satisfactory.
“Every word,” Inky replied, “though their reactions seemed somewhat mixed. They did not believe I had lied to them, but they had set their expectations high for what I would reveal. They were all most certainly displeased to know that a Changeling will now be hunting them.”
“You did no more than I expected; acting appropriately with the Devices I gave you” Aurora said, “and that being all said and done, you have aided in my elimination of, as they say, two birds with one stone. Chrysalis and the Elements have an antagonistic history, and by that will they remove her for me. In addition, your limited knowledge of my intentions has only increased Magic’s desire for the same. You have done very well, better than any servant I have ever had. My trust in you was not misplaced.”
“Thank you, Lady Aurora,” Inky inclined his head, having never been given such praise by any pony, let alone Aurora. Rising back up, he continued, but without the extreme reverence he had just displayed, “Your anticipation of Magic was not incorrect. She has all but demanded a meeting. She seems to have inferred something, at least based on her fervor.”
“No doubt she has,” Aurora replied. “No matter her errant philosophy of principle, Celestia would only ever have picked the sharpest of unicorns to be her personal students.” It was clear to Inky she had intended to say more, but without apparent cause, her face contorted first to one of irritation, then gradually from interest to shock, and finally to hatred tempered only by mild amusement. As this final emotion stole over her face, all of the Changelings—which up until that point had been relatively quiet—about her erupted into a cacophony of chirping, buzzing, energized movement, and excited noise-making. “The ones I have put on watch have seen a new development on the horizon,” Aurora managed to say, her eyes shut and head turning sharply from side to side as she was bombarded by Changeling thoughts. “SILENCE! ALL OF YOU!” she exploded, the message no doubt mental as well.
“My Lady?” Inky asked uncertainly, having never seen Aurora so vocally frustrated. It was far from her to act so.
“While I prefer the power of a pointed word to the brutal shouting most ponies resort to, when dealing with such creatures as these, I sometimes have no choice,” Aurora said. “They have now calmed,” she said, somewhat contradicted by the Changelings still chittering at her feet. “Come, they were rather vague and used terminology I was unfamiliar with, but I have my suspicions as to what comes to greet us... finally.” Inky nodded and dutifully followed Aurora and her mass of Changelings. There were so many beside, behind, and before her, that Inky never saw her hooves, giving her already flowing walking an even more ethereal quality. The Changeling’s were like a mass of shadow at her hooves, as they were a part of her, flowing with her, being drawn to her, and yet also coming from her. Inky Jay noted to take down this observation later.
The two of them and the Changelings took an almost identical path from whence Inky had come, save ascending as many stairs. They came instead to the second level, the corridor apparently dead-ending just where ship’s nose began to taper. But like every other wall in the House of a Thousand Fangs, it concealed the entrance to a room. The place was one Inky knew well, having spent the first few weeks of the vessel’s flight to Equestria in the room. Around the spacious expanse were multiple holographic Devices, each linked to various data gathering brethren on the ship’s exterior. Changeling’s sat at each station, taking notes on everything from wind speeds to the position of the sun for the log books. At the triangular room’s head were clustered the most Devices, these offering up magical projections of images outside the vessel. It was the Navigator Station.
The Changelings surrounding Aurora seemed to comprehend that they would be unable to fit inside the room with her, and thus parted to either side of the entrance, allowing both herself and Inky to pass inside uninhibited. They moved straight for the image displays and the Changelings clustered around the one connected to the single, fixed long-range viewer. “Out of the way, the lot of you,” Inky growled at the over-excited creatures. Their heads snapped back, and immediately shrunk into a bow of submission before backing away from the Device.
This revealed a single sky-blue image: a rather boring look at valley’s horizon and the ground just before it. This was nothing abnormal, as Aurora had built the long-range imaging Device for the very purpose of viewing the horizon. No, the interest in the hologram rested in that which was coming over the visible edge of the land. “Inky Jay, run a playthrough of all the images taken in the past thirty minutes, maximum speed,” Aurora ordered, staring fixedly at the hologram. The procedure was second nature to him: rotating one node down so that it first showed all of the images from the time Aurora requested, then turning a second to push the images back to the current one. The result was a sequence of stilted flashes that revealed any change over the indicated period of time: change that was undeniable near the end of the arrangement.
It began almost imperceivable at first, but within the next image, there appeared an army swallowing up the land before it. Thereafter, the images only spoke of the army’s size as lines of armor clad ponies seemed to have no end. “They will be here by nightfall,” Aurora said, more solemn than usual. “Prepare yourself Inky Jay, for war over control of the Elements of Harmony is about to begin, and it is a war I am determined to win.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Princess Luna slowly lowered the moon as her sister brought in the first rays of dawn. Her care of her charge was greater this morning than it normally was, for she had become accustomed to performing her most important of duties from Canterlot’s highest towers. While she held confidence in her abilities, the Royal Astronomers would never let her hear the end of it if the moon’s course was ever incorrect: no matter the reason. Adding to her abnormal position for lowering the moon was the fact that the sun was not her only illumination. The vivid pink sphere of magical energy encasing Ponyville cast a dull glow over the valley around it for at least half a mile. The shadows from the sun’s rising were thus heavily distorted or gone entirely, giving Luna even greater trouble in identifying her sister’s pace so she might match it.
However, it seemed that Celestia was just as perturbed by the sphere’s glow, as Luna was able to proceed with the moon’s lowering at as slow a pace as she desired. When she finished, her hoofsteps were immediately directed to her new general’s tent. Spearhead had lived up to her high view of his abilities in a position of command, whipping (often times literally) the Army of the Moon from pathetic shambles into an organized war machine. He held back no criticism, especially when he was drunk from hard cider, but his praise was always given to those who deserved it. The soldiers he had not sent back home crying like foals admired him greatly, bragging in letters to their family members about how they were being trained to be as efficient as the Moon Guard by the very stallion who commanded those elite ponies. His praise among the soldiers had even seeped into the Army of the Sun, complaints being heard about desiring to be lead by Shining Armor rather than the appointed generals.
This thought prompted a light chuckle from her as she pushed aside the flap to Spearhead’s tent. “Your Majesty,” Spearhead said tiredly and gruffly, his white morning scruff not yet shaved away. It was a reminder that despite his still vibrant forest green mane and tail and deep ocean blue coat, he was not exactly a young unicorn.
“Good morning, Spearhead,” Luna said, taking a seat before the small desk within the tent.
“What business needs doing Your Majesty?” Spearhead asked, this time scratching at the scruff as he viewed a supplies manifest through old spectacles. “Is there another slacker out there, resting his plot on the ground rather than doing some honest work?”
“No Spearhead,” Luna replied, “thou hast most effectively cleared out those with little respect for their duty. No, our business is in knowing how thou plannest to proceed.”
“What in Tartarus do you mean Your Majesty?” Spearhead asked gruffly. “We’re not attacking the shield head on if that’s what you mean.”
“We apologize for our vague question,” Luna retracted. “What we meanest to say is, how dost thou intend to study the magical field? Surely much canst not be accomplished whilst it still remaineth in place.”
“I haven’t talked with the captain of the Corps of Magical Engineers this morning, but he’d be your pony if you want to know the specifics,” Spearhead replied. “They’ll be headin’ out this afternoon; once the armies finish surrounding the town. I’ll warn you though, I may have command over where Captain Field Spell goes and what he works on, but he can be a right pain in the flank.”
“Why dost thou not replace him then?” Luna asked, curious.
“His talent is studying magic out in the world rather than in a lab,” Spearhead answered, although talk of the magical engineer was clearly not helping his mood. “Not many ponies with a talent that specific. Can’t afford to replace ‘im.”
“We see,” Luna said blankly, unsure of how Spearhead would react to her sympathy to his plight. “We have a final question.”
“You are my Princess, Your Majesty,” the stallion said flatly. “Fire away. It’s not like I can dismiss you or anything.”
Luna giggled at her own silliness—the result of always having Celestia stress to her the importance of decent manners when she was young—and pressed on, “We wouldst have thee tell us, hast thou decidest upon those other ponies that shall accompany us for the negotiations?”
“With all due respect Your Majesty,” Spearhead said, causing Luna to brace for a soldier’s vulgarity, “you couldn’t have picked a worse bucking time to ask that question.”
“What hath gone askew?” Luna asked, doing her best to force down a wince.
“Those bucking ponies I had chosen to be going with you went off and got into a bucking brawl last night!” Spearhead fumed, it clear he had not yet had anypony to whom to vent his frustration. “I never have, nor ever will, reward brawlers,” he continued defiantly. “But that now puts me in the bucking situation of having no ponies to go with you. Two of them were Shining Armor’s and he isn’t too pleased either.”
“Then we hath a request to make of thee,” Luna replied, thinking of how much poetry she would need to read to clear her mind of the cursing. “We trust thee more than any other military pony alive. This is why we madest thee our general. But we art extending our trust further. Thou shalt accompany us to the negotiations.”
“But... but... Your Majesty,” Spearhead spluttered, already reaching for his cider drawer. “My job is to fight the enemy until they either surrender or die, not to talk with them about peace!”
“Art thou refusing us?” Luna asked critically.
“Not at all Your Majesty!” Spearhead backtracked, his tone calming as he took a large swig of cider. “But I am only saying I am hardly the pony best suited for this.”
“But thou hast informed us that the best hath shown themselves to not truly be the best,” Luna said, “so we canst not linger on any more decisions. We trust thee more than any others under us, so thou wilt go with us.”
“By your orders, Your Majesty,” Spearhead relented.
As Luna turned to leave, preparing to meet with her sister to oversee their armies splitting into their various companies to encircle Ponyville, she said, “We art sorely unhappy to see thee so haggard, Spearhead. Tryest to put more faith in those under you, as we hath done. It lessens the burden of rule.”
“I’ll take that to heart, Your Majesty,” Spearhead replied, though after he muttered just a tad too loud, “when anypony shows they deserve my trust.” Luna sighed, choosing to say nothing more. The stubborn adherence to duty and discipline that made Spearhead her choice general also made him his own worst taskmaster. As she took wing in the early morning light, she hoped dearly that negotiation was the only thing in which Spearhead was needed; that his true skills need not be put to the test.
Rainbow Dash considered herself to be quite an enigma among ponies. She was special, knew it better than most of her friends and enemies, and took what some would call an unhealthy amount of pride in it. At the moment however, she was indistinguishable from any other pegasus streaking for the edge of the imprisoning magic field surrounding Ponyville. The unicorns and Earth ponies were just as eager—if not outright frantic—to reach the barrier. Ponyville was not a small town, but news traveled through it faster than any of the frontier settlements.
A single pegasus filly, having barely learned to fly by her mediocre speed, had taken the role of herald; she passed through the town screaming one thing over and over again, “The Princesses! The Princesses are here!” No elaboration was needed by any pony of sense. The citizens of Ponyville, previously enamoured by Aurora’s show of magical technology, had reverted back to their rather skeptical view of her upon learning of a mysterious explosion that had wrecked the missing Thunderlane’s business. Now with news of Celestia and Luna on the approach, nopony needed any more incentive to rush for those two they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt had their best interests at heart. Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy were no exception—especially considering everything they knew that the rest of Ponyville was oblivious to.
But as it turned out, though news traveled quickly through the town, accuracy tended to suffer. Oh, the Princesses would have to be with them, but all Rainbow Dash could see as she hovered with her brothers and sisters inside the pink energy was an army. An army of ponies easily ten thousand strong. There simply was no describing the sheer volume of ponies present. Nopony alive could ever claim to have seen so many all at once: all marching in perfect lines, divided by the golden or onyx color of their armor. The thundering of their continuous marching could not just be heard, but also felt in the air and the ground. Spear shafts, periodically used to uphold flags of either the sun or moon, were so numerous that they were a forest unto themselves. And these only constituted the unicorn and Earth pony forces. Hundreds of pegasi battle formations each fifty strong maneuvered over their fellows in perfect unison. They made passes precariously close to the edge of the half-sphere, acting as guidance for the troops slowly encircling the town. The massive level of organization and force on display was beyond jaw-dropping. It was ethereal in effect, sparking awe, admiration, and security in the hearts of all those ponies that drew hope from their leaders. At the same time, Rainbow Dash could not help but feel intimidated, and she was on their side. A smirk of confidence and pride in her fellow ponies lit her lips, imagining what Aurora Streak must be thinking. “Probably panicking is more like it,” she snickered to herself.
“There are so many,” Fluttershy said, her soft voice made even more so by the power of the sight before her.
“Say again,” Rainbow replied, having heard only enough to know Fluttershy had spoken.
“There are so many,” Fluttershy repeated, still gazing out over the mass of marching ponies.
“Ha ha,” Rainbow Dash said gleefully, “I love it. Aurora’s gonna have no choice but to do anything Princess Celestia demands.”
“I haven’t seen Princess Celestia or Princess Luna though...” Fluttershy added worriedly. “You don’t think Aurora did something to them to stop them from helping, do you?”
“Nah,” Rainbow shrugged off her comment. “She wouldn’t have bothered coming here if Celestia and Luna were the ones she was after.”
“Mm,” the yellow pegasus agreed, placated for the moment. There was little excitement in watching an army surround a town, but everypony did so anyway. Something about watching the soldiers assemble in perfect order washed the onlookers with a sense of calm. Celestia had seen their plight and these soldiers were her answer: a very convincing answer. Just after the first thirty minutes had passed and the army was just a little half-way around Ponyville, Rainbow Dash heard somepony call her name. She jerked her head around, searching for the source, but the pounding noise of marching and the babble of all the citizens, such a task was more difficult than she thought it should be. It came again, this time clearer now that she was alert for its presence.
Looking down into the crowd of other ponies, Rainbow Dash spied Twilight, Applejack, and Spike with a slim, subtle pink mare with a vivid green mane and tail. Rainbow tapped Fluttershy on the shoulder and motioned to their friends before diving down behind the crowd. The moment they came to rest, a quick nod from Twilight sent Spike scurrying bravely into the clamoring mass of ponies. “We came as soon we heard,” Applejack said, sounding both thrilled and uneasy at the same time.
“I know! Isn’t it sweet! The Princesses are totally going to kick Aurora in the flank with that many ponies!” Rainbow Dash said excitedly. “Who’s the newbie?” she added critically, examining the mare.
“Later,” that very mare said, her voice tainted haughty with something akin to the amusement of a noble with peasants. “What is there to see?”
When Rainbow did not immediately answer, still unfavorably eyeing the newcomer, Twilight said, “Really Rainbow Dash, how close are Princess Celestia and Luna?”
“Haven’t got a clue, do we Fluttershy?” Rainbow turned her attention to her fellow pegasus.
“Um, no...” Fluttershy answered.
“It’s a no-brainer that the Princesses are with ‘em,” Rainbow Dash elaborated when Fluttershy did not, “but all you can see are thousands of ponies. They’ve brought a huge army with them! I’ll bet twenty bits Aurora’s shaking in her hooves.” She chuckled heartily at the mental image, but stopped awkwardly when none of the mares before her joined in. “What?” she asked. “Come on, lighten up. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna are here with an army!”
“Twi, do we really haf ta be ou’ here ‘til Spike comes back with Rarity and Pinkie Pie?” Applejack asked, glancing around for any pony who might be looking at them; and completely ignoring Rainbow.
“Okay, something’s happened,” she said suspiciously. “What gives Twilight?”
“You honestly believe any pony will suspect something,” the new mare cut in to Applejack critically before Twilight could reply to Rainbow. “If ever I should have been caught... it would have been... then.”
“Just... just hold on for a second Dash,” Twilight said, clearly stressed. “Yes, Applejack, we do need to stay and wait. I promised Spike that’s what we would do.” As if to affirm her stance as the right one, Spike squeezed himself out of the crowd, tripping as he did so. Behind him emerged Rarity, who had even greater trouble escaping due to her inherent politeness, and Pinkie Pie, who by some force unique to her alone, had no trouble at all. Rarity sympathetically set Spike on his feet again, and the three made their way to where the rest were waiting.
“Spike said it was urgent. Have you found the Changeling that is so tastelessly pursuing us?” Rarity asked, hoping beyond hope.
“This way,” the new mare said shortly, making her way stiffly into a shop whose owner had abandoned it in favor of a spot to watch the Equestrian armies surround the town. Jerking her head to her friends and receiving befuddled looks for it, Twilight followed her. Rainbow looked confusedly at Pinkie, but as was expected, she only shrugged unconcerned before lightly trotting after Twilight.
When all were gathered within the shop’s confines, Twilight cleared her throat importantly before speaking. “Rainbow Dash, Fluttershy,” she began, though edging away from the new mare that had taken a position beside her, “we found Thunderlane.”
“Oh come on!” Rainbow exploded, using anger to hide her true emotion. “How did he...”
“He’s alive, pony,” the unknown mare interrupted venomously.
“Wait... what?” Dash asked, one eyebrow arching. She was relieved that Thunderlane was alive, but the mare had just said something that did not make sense. “What did you call me?”
“Oh, slip of the tongue, how silly of me,” the mare said, falsely innocent before sneering, “I called you a pony, which is the most unbiased thing you’ll ever hear me call you.” In that instant, a flash of green magic around her whole body changed her into the very mare that had accompanied Inky to interrogate Thunderlane. Rarity screamed, Fluttershy hid behind an unresponsive Pinkie Pie, and Dash pounced. She never reached her target. An undulating violet field of magic grasped her in a telekinetic force, stopping her leap before she had even crossed half the distance between herself and the Changeling.
“What have you done to Twilight!?” Rainbow bellowed accusingly.
“She hasn’t done anything Rainbow Dash,” Twilight said calmly, gently setting Rainbow back amongst her friends, “except to save Thunderlane’s life.”
“Well duh,” Pinkie Pie said flatly. “I knew she wasn’t a pony because nopony who was a pony would call another pony a pony like they weren’t a pony.” Rainbow Dash thought Pinkie was making some measure of sense, but it drowned in Pinkie’s usual personality.
“I am the one Aurora’s scribe said would be coming for my rightful vengeance,” the Changeling said, pointedly directing her gaze to Rainbow. In another flash of Changeling magic, the one before them all was revealed to be none other than Queen Chrysalis. Much of their shock having been drained by the first revelation that she was indeed a Changeling, a collective gasp from the other three and a fierce glare from Rainbow Dash was all that greeted her appearance. “And he was not wrong. I will have my justice served, but there is a greater sin to be judged first.”
“Aurora Streak has somehow stolen control of the Changelings on board the ship away from Chrysalis,” Twilight stepped in. “If we help her get them back, Rainbow Dash, Chrysalis has agreed to not seek a life for a life.” Rainbow paled at this, but she trusted Twilight, and her friend would never have brought Chrysalis this close to her if there was even the remotest possibility that she would try to harm Rainbow.
“I’m sorry okay,” Dash said, maintaining a tone of irritation, annoyed that nopony had yet to move on from her mistake. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to do it.” Her voice wavered slightly, memories of the Changeling’s death welling up involuntarily. She squinted her eyes shut, forcing down those flashes. Even if nopony else had, she had reconciled herself to those events and would not be dragged down so low again.
“And the sun does not mean to scorch the earth into a desert,” Chrysalis snapped back sagely, “yet we still accuse it of it’s wrong. If I were you, I would stop trying to defend your actions and simply be glad I am giving you this chance to negate your crime.”
“We’ve all forgiven you, dear,” Rarity said, “and it’s only our opinions that matter, yes?”
“Thanks Rarity,” Dash admitted grudgingly.
“Now that yall’ve finished tryin’ ta kill each other and threatenin’ ta kill each other,” Applejack said impatiently, her practicality shining through, “can we get movin’ on what needs doin’?”
“Thanks Applejack,” Twilight replied, then addressing everypony else, she said, “So now that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have arrived with an army, Chrysalis thinks things are about to get worse instead of better.”
“Oh really,” Rainbow asked, still stand-offish. “Why’s that?”
“Twilight has noticed it even in her little time with Aurora,” Chrysalis said. “Aurora has a severe grudge against Celestia, and her bringing an army as the first move will not encourage anything less in our... guest. She has one less than one thousand Changelings now at her disposal, along with her ship and whatever untold defenses and offenses it possesses. If she makes any move that Aurora sees as even remotely aggressive, retaliation will occur. You have all seen her technology. It wouldn’t even be close to a fair fight.”
“It would be if the Princesses themselves got involved,” Pinkie piped in. “They’re super strong.”
“But only one at a time,” Chrysalis corrected. “Their powers come from the sun and moon, and while one is hidden, one of the sisters is well below the zenith of her powers. Aurora will know this, and she will have prepared for it. Two allicorns she cannot hold. One she can.”
“The point is that some of us have to keep tensions down in Ponyville so that the Princesses don’t attack for our sakes, while the rest of us need to help Chrysalis find a way to take back the Changelings,” Twilight explained.
“If I can regain my rightful place as queen of my people,” Chrysalis added, “there will be no need for the Armies of the Sun and Moon.” The message in her words was clear: if given the chance, Aurora would not be spared by the Changelings.
“So... um... how do we decide... well, how do we agree...Who does what?” Fluttershy asked, earning a glance of confusion from Chrysalis for her quiet demeanor.
“That’s part o’ tha trouble,” Applejack said. “Aurora sure don’ trust any o’ us, even Twi, but if she’s gonna call on anypony, it’s gonna be Twi. But if we wanna keep the Princesses from worryin’—”
“Princess Celestia needs to see Twilight,” Rainbow Dash finished for her. “Couldn’t Spike meet with the Princess instead?”
“I could,” Spike said, snapping out of staring at Chrysalis. “But the Princess doesn’t really trust me like Twilight.”
“I’ll go with you then,” Rainbow replied without a second thought. “She knows I wouldn’t leave Twilight hangin’.”
“Maybe, but she will need far more than the words of a friend and a servant to convince her of her student’s safety,” Chrysalis cut in dryly. “If a simple townspony were to corroborate your claims, her mind would be put at greater ease. I will go.”
“Is that really a good idea?” Fluttershy asked concernedly. Chrysalis laughed in reply, sending chills down everypony’s spine as memories of that same laugh welled up in them.
“You ponies are the only ones with the means and luck to assist me,” she through her mirth. “Our agreement is fragile enough as it is. My actions are not the ones you should be concerned about.” All eyes in the room immediately shifted to Rainbow Dash.
“Seriously?” she asked sarcastically. “Have you guys forgotten who’s in the room with us?”
“Both of you make a Pinkie Pie Promise and everything will be okie-dokie!” Pinkie said excitedly, as if she had found the ultimate solution to the problem. A few quick glances around among the others revealed it seemed she had.
“How is that any different from any other promise I could make then break?” Chrysalis asked deridingly.
“It’s different,” was all Applejack felt needed to be said.
“I promise not to wrestle you into submission,” Rainbow Dash said solemnly, stepping up the Chrysalis. “Cross my heart and hope to fly and stick a cupcake in my eye.” Chrysalis’s head slowly began shaking in disapproval of the bizarre ritual and its accompanying hoof movements.
“That has no meaning whatsoever,” she said, incredulous. “Why should do it?”
“You really wouldn’t want to make Pinkie Pie upset, let’s put it that way,” Spike whispered in her ear, glancing at a sad frown gradually finding its way onto Pinkie’s lips.
Sighing heavily, Chrysalis said to Rainbow, “I promise not to seek my retribution for your killing one of my subjects.” She paused, still trying to reason why she was required to do the odd motions. “Cross my heart... urgh... hope to fly, stick a... cupcake... in my eye.” She sighed again, whilst Pinkie Pie’s manic energy returned.
“Great! Now you two will get along just fine!” Pinkie said excitedly, hugging both Rainbow and Chrysalis in turn.
“I wouldn’t get your hopes so high Pinkie,” Rainbow replied cynically, while Chrysalis only sat stunned at having been touched so warmly by Pinkie.
“Are we settled on what we’re all doing then?” Twilight confirmed, teleporting in a scroll of paper that was no doubt a list.
“Hold a moment Twilight,” Rarity said with a mix of concern and confusion as she looked at a still seemingly immobilized Chrysalis. “Are you hurt?” she asked the queen evenly. “Is a simple sign of affection from another pony so foreign?”
Chrysalis shook her head lightly, blinking several times as well before replying to Rarity. “Indeed it is,” she answered in the exact tone in which Rarity had addressed her. “Any intimate contact between Changelings within any of our cities is strictly forbidden. The amount of natural love that comes from such... touching... is potent. So potent that other Changelings will feed on it until they reach other emotions... then they will begin to feed on those as well. The end result is a soulless husk. I do not expect ponies to understand. Touching between your kind is much less full.”
“That’s horrible!” Rarity exclaimed, disgusted and appalled. “It might as well be cannibalism!”
“We find it just as disgusting,” Chrysalis said. “Why do you think I said we only allow intimate contact outside populated areas?”
“Did ya get a boost or somethin’ when Pinkie grabbed ya?” Applejack asked.
“She is... different. It was not the same as what I have received from other Changelings, but it came close,” Chrysalis replied, scrutinizing Pinkie while the party pony stared enthusiastically back.
“Well, Pinkie is definitely different,” Twilight said, her tone steering the conversation back to her check list. The others picked up on her purpose as well, and the intention was not lost on any of them, even Spike. Chrysalis still knew nothing about them as the bearers to the Elements of Harmony, and as long it remained that way, they possessed an advantage over her. Being that she had orchestrated Canterlot’s near demise and had defeated Princess Celestia, there was unspoken consensus among the six that such an advantage might be vital in the final accounting. “So, Chrysalis, Rainbow Dash, and Spike will try to find and talk to Princess Celestia and Luna,” Twilight rattled off, a quill scratching on the paper.
“Uh, Twilight, what should we tell her?” Rainbow asked.
“Good question,” Twilight replied, running the feather end of the quill through her mane in thought. “Tell her that I’ve been trying to talk to Aurora and learn as much as I can. Tell her that I’m up with her right then.”
“What if you’re not?” Spike asked innocently.
“Right now, the Princesses don’t need to know that,” Twilight said, regret tingeing her words at the thought of hiding her intentions from her mentor. “I need to be ready whenever she calls. Okay, that means I’ll be back at the library. Rarity and Fluttershy, I need you to come back with me to help continue taking care of Thunderlane. Chrysalis saved him from being hurt too badly by the blast, but he still needs some care.”
“I was going to help him anyway,” Fluttershy replied. “Now I can do it without having to worry about...” She trailed off, eyeing Chrysalis with a sheepish smile which the queen ignored.
“I need something to keep my hooves busy,” Rarity said. “For once, the spa just didn’t help me relax properly.”
“Applejack, I need you to try to see if you can get a hold of whoever is leading the armies besides Princess Celestia and Luna,” Twilight said next. “Don’t tell him about the Changelings, otherwise the Princesses are sure to attack. Just tell him everything we know about the disabling effects of the fields around the ship. If it does come down to a fight, they need to know that magic and wings won’t work as well around it.”
“Gotcha Twi,” Applejack said. “Shouldn’ be too hard. Most o’ the ponies’ll be wantin’ ta see the Princesses anyhow.”
Pinkie—” Twilight was beginning to address her, but was cut off by that very pony.
“I can help AJ with whatever she needs!” Pinkie said. Unsure if Applejack was okay with this, Twilight turned a questioning gaze to her.
“Ya can come along Pinkie,” Applejack replied, both exasperated and amused.
“Okay everypony, get to it,” Twilight confirmed, rolling up her list. “We’ll meet back at the library.”
“Stay sharp when you are with her,” Chrysalis warned. “And by Faust, watch your words.”
“Are you worried about me Chrysalis?” Twilight asked mischievously, suppressing her curiosity from Chrysalis’ reference to an old mare’s tale.
“I am worried for my own, as you should be,” Chrysalis said pointedly before following Dash and Spike and changing into her pink-green mane and tail disguise. ______________________________________________________________________________
As Twilight walked back to the library with Fluttershy and Rarity, she could feel a contagious energy of joy beginning to infect her. Nothing about their current situation was to be held responsible. Rather, it had not taken long before the Ponyville citizens had organized impromptu parties all across town to celebrate the arrival of the Armies of the Sun and Moon. The chinking of glasses and bottles outside bars was the predominant noise as the older ponies confidently toasted to their rulers’ superior strength and the preservation of their ways; but on occasion, more boisterous noise could be heard from the homes of ponies who had not become enamoured by Aurora’s display.
It was a cheerful atmosphere, and as Aurora herself had not chosen to mitigate it, it persisted through the whole of Ponyville. However, Twilight’s own encouragement at the arrival of the Royal Pony Sisters was dampened every time her eyes rested on the massive form of Aurora’s ship, or whenever they entered a more quiet area of town and the squealing of the imprisoning field tickled her ears. They were constant reminders of the peril of Ponyville in and of themselves, but they also reminded her that she was also trying to avoid Princess Celestia. Most every part of her mind told her this was a bad idea: that the Princess had always been there for her and that this would be no different. But the tiniest fragment of thought convinced her otherwise. This was a responsibility she and she alone was burdened with. Asking the Princess for help would a blatant violation of that, and any headway she might have been able to make with Aurora would be lost.
“Twilight dear,” Rarity spoke up, snapping Twilight from her thoughts. “You’ve been staring at that dreadful ship for five minutes after we got back.”
“Sorry, Rarity,” Twilight said, opening the door to the library. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”
“We all have a lot on our minds,” Fluttershy agreed, patting Twilight comfortingly on the shoulder as the three of them walked inside.
“Where did you put the poor pegasus?” Rarity asked immediately, head swiveling from side to side in search for Thunderlane.
“He’s up in my room,” Twilight answered, taking the lead up the stairs. “I really hope he’s awake by now. I’ll start to worry if he’s not.” She took a key from a small table just outside her bedroom door, and quietly twisted it in the lock. It was well-oiled, no click sounding as it was unlocked, nor any creaking sounds echoing as she pushed the door open.
There in her room, her fears for the pegasus stallion were laid to rest. He was sitting up in the bed comfortably, gulping heartily from the large cup of water she had set on the bedside. “Thunderlane, how are you feeling?” Fluttershy asked, startling the stallion so that he almost choked on his water. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she squeaked, rushing forward to take the glass from his hoof.
“Can always count on Fluttershy can’t we?” Twilight whispered to Rarity before the two approached the bed. “Really Thunderlane, how are you?” she asked him.
“Everything’s a little blurry to be honest,” he said, putting a hoof to his head in an attempt to remember. “I’ve gotta hand it to you and Miss Dash though. Thanks for getting me out of there alive. I take it my uncle’s shop is... ah... toast.”
“Pretty much,” Twilight grimaced. “The explosion knocked out the supports on the front of the building and the roof collapsed on it.”
“How are you physically dear?” Rarity asked, hoping to distract him from the loss.
“A little stiff,” Thunderlane replied, “but I reckon that’s only from being tied up.”
“Do you feel well enough to walk?” Fluttershy asked.
“Honestly ladies,” Thunderlane replied with a slight blush, “I appreciate the concern and you having saved me from being killed, but I’m not crippled or anything.”
“All the same dear,” Rarity pushed, “you should rest. Thank Celestia, but ponies are very rarely near anything so traumatic as an explosion. Stay for lunch, and if you’re still feeling fine by then, you can go ahead and leave.”
“Sounds like a—” Thunderlane agreed, not a fool to turn down a nice lunch with three mares, but stopped by a solid, triple rap on the library door.
A barely noticeable but inexplicably significant look passed between the three Elements before Twilight said, “Well, at least you’re awake Thunderlane. Enjoy the lunch, I think that’s an appointment I need to keep.” She trotted out of the bedroom, a steely look of determination etching onto her face as she came onto the main floor. Grasping hold on the door with her magic, she yanked it open, expecting Inky Jay with a reply from Aurora about their meeting. Her resolve to uncover Aurora’s true intentions was all that held back her gasp as she was greeted not by Inky, but the allicorn researcher herself.
Something on her face must have shown her surprise against her best effort, for Aurora said, “Forming assumptions still are we?” Her normally light voice was mixed with the stress Twilight often heard in Princess Celestia’s own tones when some major threat to Equestria had emerged.
“Worried that your Changeling army isn’t going to be big enough?” Twilight could not help but needle back.
“The size of my own forces mean nothing,” Aurora said, both surprised and yet at the same time unimpressed. “I had wondered whether you would figure it out yourself or if you would need Inky or myself to tell you. It seems both were correct.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” Twilight said crossly, stepping onto the street with Aurora and snapping the door shut behind her. Switching the subject she said, “Why did you come personally?”
“Walk,” Aurora said flatly, leading their direction back toward the House of a Thousand Fangs. “All you need know is that Inky is performing other duties I have set before him. Now focus yourself on the matters at hoof. You requested a meeting. I intended to call you for one. I suggest you lay out that which you wish to say before we reach my vessel. I will make no room for speaking of your complaints while aboard.”
“You brought a small Changeling army with you,” Twilight immediately began. “Why would you do that if you didn’t think you would have to fight the Princesses? And that begs the question, if you were so confident in your technology winning over ponies, why did you think an army was even necessary?”
“Change in history always encounters resistance, and I was merely prepared to push back against that resistance,” Aurora replied. “And do not deceive yourself. No one thing is ever enough to change hearts.”
“Why did you want Inky to protect us?” Twilight spouted, disliking Aurora’s previous answer but able to accept it. “Why are we so important?”
“Now you try to deceive me,” Aurora answered, still calm. “I know what you and your five friends are, and it is critical that you are whole. Anypony that has ever ventured into my field would have been able to see that you six are bearers of the Elements of Harmony.”
“How did you find out?” Twilight asked, not sure if she was more angry or confounded by Aurora’s knowledge.
“There are several outward signs that are all but implications,” Aurora said, “but there is one of a very few spells I can perform that revealed all I needed to know. I will tell you more when we are within my vessel.”
“You will?” Twilight asked, now assuredly confused. Aurora was a reclusive creature, that much she could say in confidence.
“The arrival of the Armies of the Sun and Moon have forced me to accelerate my schedule,” Aurora replied plainly. “Rest assured, the ponies of your town may soon not be celebrating Celestia’s arrival.”
“Whatever propaganda you have Inky spreading won’t work,” Twilight said fiercely realizing the nature of the ‘duties’ Inky had been tasked with. “Not when the Princesses are right with us.”
“Using the word ‘propaganda’ makes it seem as if I am lying,” Aurora replied, a touch of amusement in her sweet tone. “Anything he tells them is but the truth, as you will soon learn.” She paused, but Twilight did not press anything more, for she both sensed Aurora was not finished and she herself had nothing more to say as of yet. “As for your Princesses,” Aurora continued coldly, “they are no more with you now than they were before. When they can break past the field, I will reconsider that statement.”
The two rounded a corner into Town Square, and were greeted by a small gathering of ponies. They were all on the younger side—at least from those Twilight could see—and were all clustered beneath the shadow of Aurora’s ship. Inky Jay could be seen standing before them in the Mayor’s traditional place within the pillars of Town Hall. He was not speaking. “And so the visionaries reveal themselves...” Aurora murmured to herself.
“There she is!” somepony in the crowd shouted, and the whole of the mass shifted in Aurora and Twilight’s direction, taking only a few paces toward the pair before stopping to give Aurora space before them.
“I see you all are confused and also intrigued by the words to come from my scribe’s mouth,” Aurora spoke regally to the assembled. “Suffice it to say neither he nor I are confident in our ability to translate my design into the laypony’s terms. I will bring Twilight Sparkle into my vessel and explain all to her. As envoy, she will then relate back to you what she has learned.”
“Won’t you at least try to negotiate with the Princesses?” a mare from the crowd sounded out. She was not angry, but instead nearly pleading. “You have so much to offer pony-kind,” she continued, the group parting ways so she might come to the front. She was a simple mare, subdued orange coat with a well kept blue mane. “Surely the Princesses would be willing to work with you if you have so much to give.”
“Celestia had her chance to negotiate with me, many hundreds of years ago,” Aurora replied. “Instead, she decided banishment to be the proper response. She would not burden her own conscious with the guilt of true ‘justice’, but she wanted to save face and punish somepony all the same. No, I will not hear her. And by the end of today, you may very well never wish to her again either.”
“Part for Lady Aurora!” Inky belted out, the ponies following his command and shuffling to give Aurora a path to approach the earth directly beneath her ship. With a swift stride, she and Twilight reached a waiting Inky, who had jumped down from Town Hall to meet Aurora. Now in range of the ship’s magic and flight dampening fields, Twilight began to mentally prepare herself for losing touch with her magic completely once inside. The concentration required was immense, just as it had been the first time, and thus she only barely registered Aurora whispering new orders to Inky.
Coming out of her exercise alienated from her magic, and feeling mentally empty for it, she caught Inky saying, “...if they extend the hoof first?”
“I will be surprised if that happens,” Aurora answered. “But I will only even consider it should my demands for their conveyance be met. And those I am sure will be denied.”
“As you wish My Lady,” Inky backed away before leaping into the skies. As Twilight watched him lazily soar over Ponyville, her peripheral vision caught sight of a dull red glow near Aurora’s haunches. A quick glance revealed blood-red bangles she had not noticed before. She barely had time to register they were charged with some type of magic when she felt her body becoming incorporeal in a shaft of blinding white light. Recognizing the teleportation magic, Twilight snapped her eyes shut and took a quick breath before they were both pulled inside the ship.
The sudden teleportation was odd for Twilight, as she was accustomed to initiating the magic and bursting into her desired location within the span of a single second. The Device powered magic however—be it due to its artificial nature or Aurora’s understanding of the spell—held her in an ethereal form for a complete ten seconds. In the confines of concentrating on not breathing even when she had no lungs nor blinking when she had no eyes, it was maddening. When her hooves finally touched something solid once again, her eyes flew open and she let out an involuntary gasp. “I was under the impression that you talented magical types teleported all the time,” Aurora said, not offended but disapproving.
“We do it faster than that,” Twilight gulped in the air, not because she needed it, but because her mind needed the reassurance that she could still have it.
“This is the fastest the Devices will perform,” Aurora said. “Since it seems necessary, you should prepare yourself. We must go again.”
“Why didn’t you use these on my first visit?” Twilight asked, taking the extra time Aurora was granting her to both ask a question and examine the circular room in which they had arrived. Brass pillars marked the edges of alcoves all around the room in which shining Devices rested, each pointed in toward the center. Twilight understood that the Devices were magical substitutes, and that consequently, they operated like a unicorn’s magic. Only, she had never been surrounded by so many pointing their nozzles in her direction. The effect was eerie and threatening, reminding her of illustrations of old weapons forged by the unicorns before Equestria’s founding whose sole purpose was to spew flames of retribution upon the Earth ponies.
“Firstly, the engine room where I took you is separated from the network,” Aurora explained. “Secondly, there was no reason to startle the townsponies even further after my arrival. When used in reverse, that particular connection has an unfortunate tendency to bore a small crater into the ground. Now come, you are breathing normally again.” Twilight could not deny this truth, and grudgingly stepped to Aurora’s side as the allicorn pushed a lever on a different teleporting Device. Now prepared for the duration of the warp, Twilight’s mind flashed with thoughts of magic; her mind trying to reconnect with her natural abilities in the presence of such obvious manipulation of the arcane.
She forced away these notions, mercifully once again reappearing in the physical world. Only, she was unsure now if it were better to be mentally tortured by her own mind or be in the large, oval expanse Aurora had taken her. Her mind gradually began to ease when she realized that many of the brass objects spread throughout the room were mainly spare Devices resting peacefully in storage racks. But her nerves did not entirely dispel as she took in the entirety of the single contraption covering the center of the floor. It was composed of four sections, two on either side of a platform running between them. Both sets were the height of an average pony.
The exterior of the first set was covered in a complex array of brass gears and a single dial. What it measured Twilight could not yet tell. The interior of the set held three Devices, two on one side, the remaining one on the other: all three with their nozzles pointing in. The half of the first set supporting the pair of Devices also had brass pipes running away from it through troughs in the wooden floor. These reconnected to a console identical to the one Twilight had seen in the engine room.
While the first set in the array held an aura of a proper scientific machine, the second set was so far gone from the norm that it looked like a bad play prop. While it had the same height as the first set, its exterior was entirely blank while the interior was completely covered by the nozzles of countless Devices. And they had nothing akin to careful arrangement, looking as random as if Pinkie Pie had placed them.
“Move inside completely Twilight Sparkle,” Aurora instructed. She directed Twilight until they both stood before the machine, then continued speaking. “You say you are the prized pupil to the princess of these lands,” she said. “So that must surely mean there is something about you that made you special apart from the other students.”
“Well, I used to wonder about that,” Twilight said hesitantly, unsure why they were talking about her early years. “But after realizing I was the bearer of the Element of Magic, it made more sense to me.”
“I suppose that would help, but consider this,” Aurora acknowledged, “surely there were unicorns that were more skilled than others. And even further, there would have been some skilled at one type of magic but not another.”
“Well, yes,” Twilight replied. “Some of our talents were in specific fields of magic.”
“Again, I concede this,” Aurora said, impatience biting her tone ever so slightly, “but you must have noticed some unicorns that just seemed to have a superiority to the others. Their magic in using their talent was stronger.”
“Of course that’s how it was,” Twilight answered. “But that didn’t mean the other students were any less skilled.”
“Oh, but it did. It still does,” Aurora said gravely. “You see, there is an inherent magic inside each of us, separate from our unicorn, pegasus, or Earth pony magic. Star Swirl was rather unoriginal when he called it Cutie Mark Magic, but it is the most apt description on the most basic level. I instead call it Latency, and before me, all that was known about it was that it existed and that it gave ponies their special talent. My studies revealed that Latency is a more organic form of IAM, and that being the case, I realized that it could be manipulated mechanically just like IAM.”
“Are you saying that you can give ponies Cutie Marks?!” Twilight burst out, both furious, intrigued, and scared all at once.
“You are jumping to conclusions again,” Aurora said, her tone lowering sadly. “I was guilty of your same conclusion when I first discovered some of the more finite properties of Latency. The results of those first trials... Well, shall we say I created leeches rather than ponies whose talents carried them. You see, I jumped too far too fast without understanding Latency’s exact nature.”
“Leeches...” Twilight repeated in a hollow voice. “You... you... you experimented on blank-flanks and mutated them...”
“They became the first Changelings, yes,” Aurora Streak continued the statement for her; Twilight was only able to stare in horror at the mare. There was not a drop of remorse in her voice as she continued, “You see, I discovered later that Latency has two stages. In the first, the magic is focused into a talent and gives a pony his or her Cutie Mark. The second stage, the second stage is Ascension.”
“Why would you do experiments on blank-flanks?!” Twilight shouted at Aurora, still horrified. “You weren’t even sure what would happen!”
“Do not take a lecturing tone with me Magic!” Aurora said stonily back without raising her voice. “Bear in mind that one thousand years ago, it was better to be lying dead and robbed in a ditch than to be a blank-flank. What I offered them was release no matter what happened! I was freely giving them help! Do not think that my intent was malicious!”
“But—” Twilight began to fight back, but was stopped. She herself was guilty of misuse of spells. She had meddled with the time-space continuum and had infatuated nearly every pony in Ponyville with her old toy doll. Both could have ended in disaster, and she had only ever been serving herself then. It did not take much imagination for her to see herself with a new spell that could cure some ill and rushing to use it for everypony’s benefit only to have it backfire horribly.
“Now, as I was saying,” Aurora said more calmly, correctly taking Twilight’s silence as some form of acceptance, “Latency has two stages: Mark and Ascension. While I cannot bring a pony from blank to Mark, my Devices are able to bring about Ascension. You see, because Latency is already focused in the Mark stage, there is no chance of it flooding the physical body. That is what happened to the ponies who became Changelings. Without the focus of providing talent, the Latency gave them the ability to change shape to match any situation along with the necessity of feeding off the love of others, as they had not found any love for a field themselves.
“Ascension occurs very rarely on its own, but as you have already attested to me, it affects the talent of a pony immensely,” Aurora continued, a hint of pride building in her normally controlled voice. “The trouble is that natural Ascension being tied directly to Latency, it is only able to affect the talent you already possess. By forcing Ascension, the magic can be manipulated into any area. For those not yet Ascended, I can offer a secondary skill; I can give the power of talent to something like a hobby; I can give battle skill to ponies who would otherwise not have it.”
“I take it then that I’m Ascended,” Twilight said, still trying to wrap her mind around the whole concept, never mind the Changelings’ origin. She had felt odd learning about the Devices: they had seemed to violate the natural order in some intangible way. There was nothing intangible about the wrongness of the procedure Aurora was professing. Twilight firmly believed that a pony’s Cutie Mark was something that gave that pony an insight into who they were; and if Aurora was right about Latency, Mark, and Ascension, Twilight could not help but believe they were all wrapped in the same package. To separate them and manipulate them apart from one another went against their very purpose.
“Indeed you are,” Aurora replied, her tone becoming more serious, “as are all of your friends. But your Ascension has been split. All of you have Ascended naturally, your talents becoming enhanced, but it is not as potent for half of the power of Ascension has embedded itself in your mind to give you the proper brainwaves to utilize the Elements of Harmony.”
“And you know this how?” Twilight questioned critically. She could accept Aurora’s extensive knowledge on Cutie Marks and IAM. As obscure and unorthodox as they were for areas of study, her technology was a boastful claim that it was not foal’s play. However, Twilight was leery of her knowledge of the Elements. Very few ponies even knew they existed, and if they did, they thought the tale was only a legend with no grounds in fact.
“That, Element of Magic, is the right question to ask,” Aurora Streak replied smoothly. Without any more words, she turned away from Twilight and walked to the opposite end of the room. She pushed against the wall, opening the way to a staircase. It was an invitation Twilight knew. She could accept it. She could deny it. The choice was hers to make. The only problem, Twilight could see that there was only one choice. She had to go with Aurora. If she refused, Aurora had means to accomplish her goals without Twilight’s cooperation, and if she did not, Twilight was no fool. Aurora would not hesitate to issue an ultimatum. If anything, her offer for Twilight was the ultimatum: the ultimatum without the truth of the second option shown. With a deep set scowl, Twilight trotted up the spiral staircase behind Aurora.
Their emergence was through a hatch in the ceiling (the floor of the room above). When she came up, Twilight could not have picked a place to greater contrast the vast space in which she had just been. This room was much smaller, cramped with numerous workbenches surrounding a rotating dias. The benches were cluttered with everything from fully constructed Device shells to random scraps of brass that were so convoluted, Twilight wondered how any piece of metal could survive that much twisting. Other fully functional Devices were also present, situated upon tripods at random places. In short, most of room was a complete, disastrous mess.
But what drew Twilight’s attention was not the catastrophe around her, but a large linen swath that concealed a group of objects in the back of the room. They were easily the height of two ponies, maybe a tad larger. Even stranger, a sole workbench rested just off to the side of them, a lone sea-chest sitting upon it.
“I see you have already noticed the objects that I wish to show you,” Aurora said, pleased. “Now listen carefully and do not interrupt. While I can bring equality through the creation of Devices and the proliferation of engineered Ascension, those things do nothing if there is no harmony to unite them. Do you not agree?”
“I agree that harmony is necessary for the happiness and furthering of a pony’s dreams,” Twilight answered.
“Why then, should Harmony be allowed to be subjective?” Aurora asked.
“It’s not,” Twilight scoffed. “Harmony is harmony. It’s objective all on its own.”
“As represented as an ideal, yes indeed it is,” Aurora replied. “But as represented by the Elements of Harmony, it is subjective. You cannot see this because you have been indoctrinated into believing that Celestia’s harmony is the true harmony. However, imagine if the Elements were to be borne by six ponies who supported Discord. The Elements could then be turned against Celestia, for the harmony envisioned by those ponies would be the chaos of Discord. In this way, the Elements are subjective to whatever harmony the bearers believe to be true harmony. There is nothing objective about the Elements. Nothing at all!” Her last words were spat in contempt.
“How then to remedy this problem?” Aurora continued, controlling her passion. “Well, if the Elements were tied to six individuals rather than born by only one or two, it would become far simpler to analyze the brainwaves that Latency brings out in them. By so doing, I could create true, objective harmony.” With this statement, she gripped the linen in her teeth and yanked it down, revealing six contraptions which vaguely resembled advanced stargazing equipment. They rested on mounts of about a pony’s height. The mounts themselves were indented with slots for three Devices. Each actual apparatus was composed a large, brass, three-dimensional U. Two rings were built inside the U, one smaller and inside its brother. And finally, within the smaller ring, a single pole rose vertically to the center of ring, a clawed stand at its end.
“What you see before you are machines capable of generating the power of the Elements,” Aurora said proudly, ignoring Twilight’s hanging jaw. She hastily retrieved the chest Twilight had noticed earlier, grunting as she brought the weighted object onto the floor before Twilight. She opened its large hinges to reveal a space filled entirely by red-tinted sand. Well, not entirely. The sand was merely padding for the true objects of note: six perfectly cut jewels the colors of the rainbow.
“No, no, that’s not possible,” Twilight said flatly, refusing to accept that the Elements could so easily be replicated.
“When I first began working on the theory, I was under the same impression,” Aurora replied. “My initial research was intended to find surrogates for the Elements. I quickly abandoned the project as fruitless and moved into looking at IAM and Latency. But as I learned more and more through Latency, I came to the conclusion that surrogate Elements may not actually be impossible, and that they would be even purer forms. These gems are like the cores of a Device, holding spells that are derivative of what the Elements represent. A truth spell for Honesty, some of my own Latency magic painfully extracted for Magic, and so on and so forth. The cut of the gems is critical, as the design serves as the channels for the magic. These gems are placed in the claw chalice within those machines and my Devices do the rest.”
“Then why haven’t you turned them on?” Twilight asked, her curiosity overcoming her apprehension and gut feeling telling her she did not want to know the answer.
“Even when combined with those machines,” Aurora elaborated, “these gems are not the Elements. The combination requires one more thing to be functional. The brainwaves created by the Latency of each of the bearers, as I said before.”
“You can’t have them,” Twilight said flatly defiant. “You’ve lied to all of us. You’ve created monsters in your fanaticism! You want to continue that same experiment on the ponies of Ponyville! You are ready to go to war against Princess Celestia! What makes you think I would even think of giving you anything?! By Tartarus! There’s just something wrong with everything you’re doing. The world was built this way for a reason. Only Unicorns have magic for a reason! Ponies earn their Cutie Marks for a reason. The Elements of Harmony are tied to bearers for a reason! You’re trying to change fundamental principles that just shouldn’t be changed!”
“Sit down Twilight Sparkle,” Aurora said, her voice toneless and calm, but possessing some odd power in it that Twilight had never heard before. She felt inclined to sit. Aurora herself laid down on the floor. “You have good friends. Friends who have helped you in all your endeavors. Friends that have stood up for you when nopony else would.” Twilight nodded in affirmation. “I once had a friend like that. She funded my work when everypony else thought I was a madpony and she invested her precious time in learning and even helping me in my studies. After the Changeling incident, which I hid from her, she came to me sorely depressed. Her sister had been ignoring her for some time, but I had never seen her feeling so absolutely forsaken. I suggested she come see what I was working, perhaps to help her take her mind off of it.
“I showed her my work on Latency, how I had found I could Ascend ponies artificially. She asked me if she was Ascended yet, and I had to tell her no, she was not. She began to lament this, realizing that that must be why her sister outdid her in all things. I wanted to relieve her suffering, so I offered to use the machine you saw in the previous room on her. I offered to make her equal with her sister. She took to his idea readily, as anypony in her state would have. She insisted that I rearrange her Latency Ascension to fill every part of her body. She wished to be full like her sister. I saw no problem in this; in fact, it was going to make the process easier, not having to pinpoint a particular area to be enhanced.
“Little did I know that depression was not the only thing resting heavy within her. Jealousy and contempt festered inside, and when I released her Ascension, so too did I empower those emotions. I watched as one of my closest friends was turned into a monster that was banished to the moon for one thousand years while I was exiled to a desert.”
“You caused Nightmare Moon and the Changelings!” Twilight burst out again, standing as she did so. “And you think this will convince me to give over the one thing you want?! You really are crazy!”
“I was not finished!” Aurora said forcefully. “It was after Celestia banished us both that my eyes were opened. There is nothing wrong with my Devices nor my Latency research. If there were, I would have destroyed all of it and submitted to Celestia’s punishment in its fullest form the very day Luna transformed. But in that day, I was shown that the power of harmony ought never to rest in the hooves of any pony. It should be pure and unadulterated: allowed to act as it would without the influence of a soul. Celestia’s banishment of Luna was a blatantly selfish, aggressive, and power-driven use of the Elements she had been given the responsibility to wield. If her intent had been pure, Luna would have been freed as she was by you and yours. I will not have any pony corrupt those powers again and—”
“Okay, okay, I get your point,” Twilight said, still reeling with the sheer weight of all these revelations. “But I still have no reason at all to trust you. If you want me and my friends to help you finish your research, if you even want me to explain Latency to everypony, you’ll need to do some things for me.”
“That depends,” Aurora replied.
“First, you have to tell everypony about the Changelings on your ship,” Twilight said, unsurprised at Aurora’s responding furrowed brow. She was however encouraged that the allicorn did not deny the request immediately. She considered for a moment revealing that she knew all about Chrysalis, but a small sense of inhibition prevented it. She had a feeling that the only way Chrysalis would be able to help them and herself, would be by staying hidden. “I won’t make you say anything about how Changelings or Nightmare Moon—”
“Luna,” Aurora interrupted pointedly.
“Luna,” Twilight began again. “You don’t have to tell anypony about any of that, but you have to show that you are eligible to even be working with the Elements. Show us some honesty. Aside from that, I want you to lower the field surrounding Ponyville.”
This demand was met the way Twilight had imagined the first would be. Immediate rejection. “Absolutely not,” Aurora replied stalwartly. “I do not keep the field up to keep the ponies in, nor is it to keep all ponies out. The field is insurance against Celestia, nopony else. And after what I have told you, you should be able to see the absurdity in lowering the field.”
“I am the Princess’s favored pupil as well as the sixth Element of Harmony,” Twilight attempted to reassure Aurora. “My opinion holds some weight. I can convince her to not attack immediately.”
“When I was banished, my opinion also held weight with her,” Aurora answered. “That helped not at all. And if she has set her mind against me, nothing you say will cause anything different to happen. I will consider what you have said on the issue of the Changelings. Up until then, you may speak nothing of my Element research to anypony but your fellow bearers. And they will be forbidden from speaking of it as well. On the subject of Latency, I encourage you to spread the word. Countless ponies will benefit from it.”
“I’ll explain it to them, but I won’t support it,” Twilight said, standing firm. “I won’t encourage anypony to seek to have it done.”
“Already you are beginning to see my vision,” Aurora replied, her mood brought up considerably as she stood. “An Equestria of equality and freedom, both of body and mind.”
“I will tell the Princesses about Latency though,” Twilight warned.
“They already know and understand Latency,” Aurora waved a hoof. “It will come as no surprise to either of them. Now go. My designs continually evolve and require my attention and there are ponies awaiting your words as envoy.”
“You have good intentions Aurora Streak,” Twilight told her grudgingly as she left. “Not many ponies would have offered to try to help Princess Luna like that. But can you tell me with a straight face that none of this is motivated by revenge? That you’re still striving for the idealistic Equestria alone?”
“I cannot,” Aurora replied stoically. “They are tied together, for once the Equestrians see the truth, they will reject Celestia’s absolutism, and my revenge will be sated. If you are worried for Celestia personally, I can assure you I will not lay a hoof on her, nor do I have any desire to.”
“Well, maybe we can all come through this for the better,” Twilight replied, doubting heavily that ponies would lose faith in Princess Celestia just because of the things Aurora could do. “Maybe you and Luna can even see one another when it’s all over.”
“So Faust would have me hope,” Aurora replied, “if my hope was not something that had betrayed me time and again.”
“I’m really getting sick of this ‘having to split up all the time’ deal,” Rainbow Dash complained as she, Chrysalis (disguised again as the pink, green-maned mare), and Spike circled around the edges of town, hoping to catch a glimpse of either Princess.
“How do mean?” Chrysalis asked.
“Ever since Aurora got here, we’ve been having to meet, then split up,” Dash elaborated, still miffed. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great that Twilight can organize us all and that we can all trust each other to do what we gotta do, but I just wish we could work together: be a team like normal.”
“I hear ya,” Spike replied. “Aurora sure knows how to mess things up.”
“There is a saying amongst Changelings,” Chrysalis reprimanded them both. “It goes, ‘True harmony is in cohesion among the separated’.”
“That sounds like something Changelings would say,” Rainbow said flatly. Chrysalis’s mouth contorted into a frown, unsure if she meant it as an insult or not.
The three walked—Rainbow Dash actually flying low to the ground while the other two strode—past rows and rows of ponies, unable to find even the smallest area of space at the field’s edge. Rainbow made several attempts to fly ahead and scout a good location, but whenever Chrysalis and Spike arrived, it had been taken. And all the while, the army continued to pile around Ponyville, becoming a perfect circle of pony bodies, weapon caches, tents, and clear training grounds. “This is never gonna work,” Spike said, exasperated, when they arrived at a location Rainbow had only moments before sworn was nearly deserted. “And even if we were able to get ourselves at spot, who’s to say we wouldn’t miss the Princesses entirely.”
“The dragon makes a fair point,” Chrysalis said to Dash. “We would have a greater chance of catching one of them if we wait at their usual points of arrival.”
“You know that massive crowd of ponies that you guys found Fluttershy and me at?” Rainbow asked sarcastically. “That’s as close as we can get to the road Princess Celestia’s chariot comes down. You wanna try to fight them to get to the front? No thanks.”
“It would take only a fraction of my magic to force them all aside,” Chrysalis replied, her horn sending off green sparks. “I will not waste it on a few ponies blocking a view I could have from the air, but if a large group needs to be moved...”
“Hold it, both of you!” Spike inserted commandingly, though he withered when both Chrysalis and Rainbow eyed him critically. “Heh... I mean, can I offer a suggestion?”
“Spit it out,” Rainbow said.
“Princess Luna!” Spike hissed, as if there were other ponies listening.
“That tells me nothing,” Chrysalis replied, dryly unimpressed. “When I was Mi Amore Cadenza, I learned that the Night Princess had only ever visited Ponyville once. She has no regular route to anticipate.”
“No! That’s the point!” Spike insisted. “Everypony’s busy looking to catch a glimpse of Princess Celestia. We should watch for Princess Luna at the spot where she came to visit us on Nightmare Night!”
“It is out of the way,” Rainbow said, a hoof on her chin in thought. “And if I remember right from my flyovers, the army isn’t actually near the place. They’ve had to detour into a different clearing in the Everfree Forest, even though the Nightmare Moon statue is on the edge of the field.”
“You two honestly believe it likely that Luna will try to gain access from such a place?” Chrysalis asked skeptically. “Based on only on one previous time?”
“Yeah, we’ve got nothing better,” Rainbow said, almost defiantly. “Sure beats hangin’ around trying to find some random spot anyway.” As an afterthought, she mumbled, “You’d think some of them would’ve gotten bored by now.”
The trip to the statue of Nightmare Moon was rather uneventful for the trio. There were countless parties being thrown for those ponies still not occupied with watching for the Princesses, but their spirit seemed dampened partially by the fact that nothing had yet happened. Rainbow reflected that it might also just be her: that Chrysalis’s presence made everything less joyous and innocent than it truly was. “Are you feeding?” Rainbow asked accusingly, her thoughts having sparked the question.
“Uh, what’re you talking abou... oh, never mind,” Spike said, embarrassed.
“What makes you say that?” Chrysalis asked, flashing a knowing grin at her.
“There are a ton of parties going on everywhere, and they all just seem, I don’t know, cold,” Rainbow replied, glancing at a house wherein participants could be heard in merry-making.
“To answer your question, no, I am not,” Chrysalis said, surprising Dash. “I fed on the ponies around the edges of the field,” she continued shamelessly. “But I think I feel what you do as well. I subsisted on Aurora’s heatless love of her constructs for the weeks it took to arrive in Equestria, and I can tell you this: the joy and love these ponies put on is not honest. It is a hollow celebration. They are merely trying to raise their own spirits. Aurora’s shadow still hangs over them.”
“I think it’s pretty lively to be honest,” Spike said innocently. “I don’t think it’s the ponies who’re feeling down. I think it’s you two.”
“You question my ability as Queen of the Changelings to feel the potency of emotions, dragon?” Chrysalis hissed, offended.
“No, no!” Spike waved his claws to ward off a leering Chrysalis. “But don’t you think maybe your powers are influenced by your own emotions. I know Twilight has trouble with spells when she’s tired or upset, and when she’s angry, the weirdest magic can happen.”
“Living under the bubble hasn’t exactly helped my mood,” Rainbow Dash admitted, purposefully avoiding the subject that nagged at her was the real cause.
“And you’ve lost your... um—do you call it a swarm, horde...?” Spike asked Chrysalis.
“They are my children, and I am their mother, not literally, but if you wish to refer to them as mine, you may call them my brood,” Chrysalis answered tonelessly.
“Okay, so, you’ve lost your brood,” Spike amended, “and I can’t imagine how that feels. It’s got to be affecting something in you.”
“It affects my determination to run Aurora through the skull with the Device she used to steal them,” Chrysalis said, dangerously calm.
“C’mon Chrysalis,” Rainbow said, seeing that while the queen meant every word, she was holding back. Inwardly, Dash hoped she could not be read so easily. “What else’s going on?”
“Why should I impart any confidence into the murderer of one of my own?” Chrysalis hissed angrily.
“Then talk to me,” Spike said. “I’m a good listener. For crying out loud, I was raised by the living pony dictionary.” Chrysalis’s glare at Rainbow turned to incredulity as her gaze shifted down to Spike. When the dragon did not back away or retract what he said, green eyes lit with genuine concern, Chrysalis felt the small barrier of denial fall away. A small sigh escaped her lips as her head fell.
“Everything is muted,” she said. “Nothing seems as vibrant as it should. Without my children to share my findings, they seem to have lost much of their meaning. It is worse than being suppressed by the anti-magic field, but I will not let my diminished ability bring me down. I can still feel some level of the emotions, and that shows me that Aurora is not as powerful as she believes herself to be.”
“That’s the attitude to take!” Spike agreed, offering a hoof-bump only to grin nervously as Chrysalis’s steely eyes reminded him exactly who he was talking to.
“Aurora’s got a big head, that’s for sure,” Rainbow agreed, not a little disturbed by the queen’s small revelation. In those few words of Chrysalis, Rainbow saw herself and the way she felt about her friends. She knew by experience that so many of her recent competitive victories had been sweetened by her companions. So wrong seemed the idea of such a similarity between herself and Chrysalis that Rainbow Dash actively rejected it.
Caught up in struggling to find a countering difference between herself and the Changeling, Rainbow barely noticed the danger directly before them in time. Her eyes shrank to pricks when she happened to look up to see the statue of Nightmare Moon with a solitary Inky Jay drawing aimlessly in the dirt in front of the stone. “Get down!” Rainbow breathed through her teeth, unceremoniously shoving Chrysalis and Spike behind a bush.
“In the name of Faust, if you touch me again, I will—” Chrysalis began to swear only to be silenced when Rainbow Dash pointedly motioned with a hoof for her to be quiet. With a tender pull, Rainbow peeked through the dense branches of the bush, watching Inky.
All those years of finding the best hiding places for pranks on Nightmare Night is really paying off, she thought.
“Let me see,” Chrysalis demanded with as much force as a whisper would allow. “Why are you acting so jittery?” Rainbow ducked down, allowing Chrysalis’s eyes to peer between the leaves. “Him,” she growled. “He is waiting for the same thing we are.”
“That would be the dumbest thing for Aurora to do,” Rainbow replied, voice still low. “I’d trust his negotiating skills about as far as I could throw Canterlot.”
“I agree,” Chrysalis said, “but there can be no coincidence for his being here. And he is clearly waiting for something.”
“What’s going on?” Spike asked, bemused.
“Inky Jay,” Rainbow explained. “He’s just sitting over there by the statue, probably waiting for Princess Luna.”
“Ookaay,” Spike replied, still confused. “Why are we hiding?” Rainbow could only face-hoof and throw her other hoof out, pointing to Chrysalis. “But she’s disguised,” Spike said.
“Inky Jay is an annoyingly perceptive pony,” Chrysalis replied. “We cannot take the chance of him knowing that I have aligned myself with you. If it is hard for me to reclaim my children now, that knowledge in Aurora’s hooves would make it impossible.”
“Then just let me and Rainbow Dash go over there,” Spike said, a mild note of cynicism that he was the only one that seemed to have seen this obvious solution. “Wouldn’t be bad to have somepony watching our backs either.”
“Okay fine, that makes sense,” Rainbow said grudgingly. “I just hope he doesn’t talk. I swear, I may just buck him if he can’t keep his boorish comments to himself.”
“You’re one to talk,” Spike said as the two made their way out from behind the bushes.
“Hey, when I criticize somepony, I’m trying to help them out,” Rainbow Dash said defensively. “He’s just malicious about it.”
Anything Spike may have said in reply was halted when both he and Rainbow Dash drew Inky’s full attention. Whatever he had been scratching out in the dirt he destroyed with a single swipe of his hoof, smirking in an amused sort of way as he walked toward them. “Which of you actually had a stroke of ingenuity for once and realized the moon Princess would be more likely to arrive here if at all?” he asked.
“Shut your trap,” Rainbow said venomously. “I’m not talking to you. End of story.”
“Well, that’s not really true, since you spoke to me just now,” Inky replied, unaffected.
“Urgh!” Rainbow could only growl, though she stayed true to her word and refrained from speaking to him.
“Since she’s being primitive in her lack of cooperation with a simple question,” Inky directed his attention to Spike, “I’ll ask you, dragon.”
“The name’s Spike,” he said coldly. “And what makes you think I’ll give you an answer? Why do you care anyway?”
“Yeah,” Rainbow jumped in aggressively, “why do you care? And why would Aurora send you to meet Princess Luna and not Princess Celestia?”
“I care because Lady Aurora has taught me to pay attention to the details: a valuable skill in any profession,” Inky retorted. “And as to why Aurora would seek out Luna over Celestia, bear in mind it was not the Night Princess that banished her to the desert. And now that I have offered up my explanations, return the favor with your far more petty answers.”
“It was me,” Spike acknowledged. “It was going to be too hard to find Princess Celestia with all the ponies around the field, so I suggested we come here.”
“Mm,” Inky replied, “I was wondering how long it would take for any ponies to figure out as much, what with the simpleton minds most of you seem to have.” Rainbow Dash had been expecting some insult along those lines, but holding back a retort meant that anger could only go into and shake her body. “But as a dragon was responsible first, I guess I am still waiting.” Rainbow Dash could not take it any longer. Eyes narrowed, she leapt with a fierce holler and tackled Inky to the ground. Both pegasi rolled over in the dirt, Inky flailing to get out from beneath Rainbow while she did everything in her power to keep him down. Their struggle was brief, Dash’s athleticism winning out.
“Who’s to say you aren’t any better than the rest of us?!” she screamed into his face, pinning his forelegs down with her own. “You’re from a bucking desert I’ve never knew even had a name!”
“Do you believe you have a purpose in life?” he growled at her. “I didn’t used to believe it, and Lady Aurora still doesn’t. But there are things that changed my view.” He tried jerking out from beneath her, but Rainbow held firm.
“What stuff?” she asked.
“You’ve never experienced anything close to it, so I’ll not waste my breath trying to justify myself to you,” Inky spat. “I ask for nopony to explain themselves, and expect the same.”
“You’re a piece of work,” Rainbow Dash glowered at him, letting him up. “Princess Luna is going to see right through you.”
“That is the point,” Inky said deridingly. “Lady Aurora is who I represent, and it is she that the Night Princess should see.”
“Won’t that be difficult with your big superiority complex blocking the view?” Rainbow retorted.
“Hardly,” Inky waved her away. “Everything Aurora has accomplished far outweighs any perception anypony may or may not have of me.”
“Oh by Celestia! Would you two just shut up?! I can’t take it anymore!” Spike very nearly shouted, exasperated. “We’re all here to meet with the Princess, but both of you’ll miss her if you keep at it.” As if to corroborate his words, a gruff voice sounded in the lull. It was heavily muted, as if behind a pane of thick glass. Rainbow’s eyes darted around the edges of the sphere, looking for the source as the initial stallion’s voice was answered by the unmistakable tone of the Princess of the Night. As a pegasus who had worked for years as a weather pony, keen eyesight came quite naturally to her. It became clear to her within the span of only a few seconds that the Princess was not coming from any place directly outside the field, but was instead moving through the Everfree Forest until she reached the half-sphere of energy. After listening intently to the approaching pair of voices for a few moments more—and shooting Inky Jay scowls of disapproval for making far too much noise with his hooves when turning around in his own search—Rainbow abruptly grabbed Spike in one foreleg and zipped fast and low toward the forest. A quick glance behind nearly made Rainbow’s heart stop and her wings lose their pace. Chrysalis was charging out from behind the bushes, and for the briefest of moments, Rainbow Dash thought the queen was taking advantage of her absence to attack Inky.
But just as quickly as the feeling came, it faded; a brief and minimal flash of green giving the disguised Chrysalis wings and taking away her horn. She took a running leap, quickly accelerating to catch Dash and Spike. “The next time you feel the pressing urge to rush away like that, would it hurt to let me know somehow?” she seethed.
“Sorry,” Rainbow apologized automatically, then remembering again that she was not talking to a fellow pegasus, she added more brusquely, “but I wasn’t going to miss Princess Luna just to come back to get you.”
“Wouldn’t Inky have thought it was strange too?” Spike managed to ask, doing his best to avoid dragging his head spines in the dirt.
“Yeah, that,” Rainbow agreed, dropping Spike onto the ground as she and Chrysalis settled down and came up to the edge of the field in a light trot.
“Princess Luna!” Spike shouted out at the pink energy before either pegasus or Changeling could even open their mouths. “It’s Spike! Twilight’s assistant! Can you hear me?!”
“Do not come any closer wherever you may be!” Chrysalis added perceptively. “The field around Ponyville affects Cutie Mark magic in a... negative way.” There was no response. Not even the rustling of branches or leaves could be seen or heard.
“Princess?” Rainbow asked.
“Are you sure your ears were not playing hopeful tricks on you?” Chrysalis turned her head to Rainbow critically. Her answer came not in a sharp retort from Dash, but in a sharp, bellowing crack as wood was snapped and broken. Even the magic field could not mute the sound. All three involuntarily took a few steps backward, Spike even hiding behind Rainbow Dash’s leg.
“Timberwolves?” he asked anxiously.
“Hush,” Chrysalis replied sharply as the groaning and shattering of trees drew ever closer and were joined by the hiss of earth being flung aside and dropped back to the ground. Rainbow Dash could feel her apprehension rising the more intense the cacophony became and her wings were beginning to fan in preparation for a quick exit when an aura of deep navy magic grasped a tree just at the edge of the field. Her foreboding was wiped away at the sight of the tree being ripped up and tossed to the side, the final sounds of the forest destruction fading into silence as Princess Luna strode up as close to the field as she imagined was safe.
“Well, that’s one way to get through a forest I guess,” a stallion’s voice muttered, though not disapproving. Said stallion soon strode up beside the Princess: a strongly built but certainly fighting age; a forest green mane matching like seaweed against a deep ocean blue and combed in a style bespeaking a pony of many disciplines.
“Princess Luna!” Rainbow Dash and Spike both said at the same time. Spike would have run over to her, but he stopped himself just short of touching the pink energy with his claws. “Heh, not sure I want to know what it would do to dragons,” he said, looking melancholy for being unable to greet her as he would have liked to.
“We art glad to see thee well and unharmed,” Luna addressed them and striking Rainbow at how similar her voice was to Aurora’s. She had known that the soft quality of each of their voices was alike, but the level of that similarity had not truly struck her until hearing Luna. “Who hath joined thee to meeteth us here?” Luna continued, motioning with a nod of her head to Chrysalis, who had yet to come back to the field’s border.
“That’s... uh... that’s,” Rainbow struggled to come up with a passable name, “that’s Morning Dew. She’s a friend from Cloudsdale who was visiting me when all this crap started happening.”
“Doth she still hold a grudge against us for being Nightmare Moon?” Luna asked, perplexed by a seemingly normal pony avoiding her.
“Nah, it’s nothin’ like that,” Rainbow desperately tried to change the subject. “She’s just not the most social pony in the world.”
“Since thou hath mentioned ponies desiring little interaction of the social kind,” Luna said, “where is Twilight Sparkle? Our sister wisheth us to learn how her student fares.”
“Oh, yeah, Twilight’s up talkin’ with the Aurora alicorn lady. Been trying to get on her good side since she got here,” Rainbow said a little too fast.
“Doth thou speaketh the truth?” Luna asked perceptively, much to Dash’s discomfort.
“Well, that’s what I think’s goin’ on,” Rainbow replied. “That’s where she said she would be.”
“Be that as it may,” Luna said. “Doth thou have a way to let us inside?”
“Another pegasus followed ya here kid,” the stallion said flatly to Rainbow. To Luna he said, “You Majesty, it would be a good idea for you to get under cover. Princess Celestia is already confined to her tent to avoid causing an uproar. If the negotiation is even going to happen, you can’t be seen this close to town.”
“We taketh your meaning perfectly Spearhead,” Luna nodded to him before her entire body slipped into an ethereal mist which vaguely resembled her mane and tail. In this form, Luna vanished into the small crevices within the foliage just as Rainbow felt the light bursts of wind from a pegasus’s landing wing beats.
“Here we go,” Rainbow said frustrated under her breath. She knew without even turning around who the pegasus was, and her assumption was proven correct as Inky Jay stepped up beside her.
“Where is the Princess?” he asked the stallion called Spearhead without so much as a greeting. “I know I saw her here, so there’s no use in lying.”
“Watch the tone you take with me colt,” Spearhead said forcefully, taking offense at Inky’s relaxed self-importance. “I’ll not say anything of Her Majesty’s whereabouts to anypony I don’t know. Least of all a rich snob like yourself who will just go gallivanting off, blabbing your bucking mouth about how you’ve seen Princess Luna.”
“This one deals with royalty on a regular basis,” Chrysalis whispered with a snicker, causing Rainbow and Spike to jump at her silent approach.
Overcoming this, Rainbow replied, “It’s great. Inky’s in for a rude awakening.”
“You misread me,” Inky replied evenly, though Rainbow could gleefully tell he was struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. “I am a servant like yourself. As such, I have been sent to explain to the Princess of the Night the terms of surrender Lady Aurora is willing to accept.”
“I don’t know any ‘servants’ who wear hoof rings,” Spearhead replied, completely ignoring the bulk of what Inky had said.
“Oh, so you, like every other pony from Equestria, take a pony at what he appears to be on the surface,” Inky spat. “These,” he continued, lifting up a hoof to display a jagged silver ankle bracelets with a sapphire stone embedded in its center, “are enchanted objects to help ponies pass through this field.”
“That method has served me well through my whole career,” Spearhead said, “and I’m not about to change it based on some bucking colt who’s gotten his feelings hurt.”
“My personal offense means nothing,” Inky replied, not as convincing as he normally would be. “And your defense of your error is only further proof that Celestia’s reign promotes ‘harmony’ at the expense of equality and careful perception.”
“You may not be a citizen of Equestria colt,” Spearhead said fiercely but cooly, “but if you insult any of the Princesses again, I’ll show you a special place I—”
“Spearhead, the young one’s words art against principle, not our sister personally,” Luna’s voice seemed to float from everywhere at once. Like water flowing beautifully through pipes, the mist of Luna’s ethereal body coalesced into her physical shape, looking kindly at her assistant. “He hath been raised and taught by Aurora Streak, and it doth not surprise nor offend us that he speaketh this way. Lay thy mind at ease.”
“Your Majesty,” Spearhead bowed in reverent obedience.
“So thou hath taken upon the mantle of Aurora’s apprentice,” Luna said, intrigued, to Inky Jay.
“No,” Inky answered flatly. “I am her scribe.”
“And assassin, scout, and preacher,” Chrysalis hissed just loud enough for Rainbow to hear.
“Hold up,” Dash said, becoming gradually more confused. “How do you know so much about Aurora, Princess? No offense.”
“We taketh none,” Luna answered, understanding. “We gaveth Aurora much support in her research before her banishment. We knoweth her well.” To Inky, she continued, “We—what doth the ponies sayeth now—beg to differ. Thou hath been sent to receive me. We wouldest never hath suspected Aurora to entrust anypony with something of such importance.”
“I am not her apprentice,” Inky repeated. “I am her scribe.”
“Then we shalt agree to disagree,” Luna said pointedly. “Now, we art interested in hearing these terms of surrender she hath laid out.”
“Yeah,” Rainbow added. “I wanna hear these too. I’d love to see what she thinks she can do against Princess Luna, Princess Celestia, and an army that big.”
“She said you would all want to hear them first,” Inky said not a little proudly. “Therefore, Lady Aurora Streak declares that the Princesses of Equestria are to withdraw themselves and the Armies of the Sun and Moon away from Ponyville. If they do not, Lady Aurora will be forced to match her army against the Armies of the Sun and Moon, and her powers against those of the Princesses.” Chrysalis tensed and a low growl reverberated in the air directly around her: the audacity of Aurora to have claimed the Changelings as her own having sent her mood into a downward spiral.
Rainbow nudged her brusquely with a hind leg as a warning, but could not contain her own burst of guffawing at Inky’s final words. “She—!” was all Rainbow managed to say before succumbing to a fit of laughter.
“Don’t laugh filly,” Spearhead admonished Rainbow, though his eyes were focused intently upon Inky. “He means it.”
“Yes Rainbow Dash,” Luna added concernedly, “Aurora is not a pony to make idle threats. What perplexes us is that she hath made the threat at all. It hath become even of greater pertinence that we speaketh with her.”
“Are you offering a state of negotiation?” Inky asked, much hinging on Luna’s answer.
“We art,” Luna said shortly, then, in a voice of an even higher regal flare than that Aurora put on before the ponies of Ponyville, she said, “We, Luna, Princess of the Moon and Night, offereth to negotiate with Lady Aurora Streak the terms of a peaceful resolution.”
“There are conditions for being allowed inside,” Inky said tonelessly, as if this was the answer he had expected.
“Speaketh them,” Luna commanded.
“Your contact with any ponies outside the Elements of Harmony is strictly forbidden,” Inky replied. “Attempts of sabotage on Celestia’s behalf will be crushed and the participants executed without mercy. And finally, you will have no contact outside this sphere until the negotiations conclude for better or worse.”
“Doth Aurora hath anything against us bringing with us an assistant,” Luna asked, motioning to Spearhead.
Inky scrutinized the stallion before replying, not without some hesitation, “I suppose not. Only, he will not be allowed anywhere near the ship unless either myself or Aurora are in accompaniment.”
“Then we agreeth to Aurora’s terms, saveth the withdrawal of our Armies. We canst, however guarantee that they shalt remain motionless in their aggression,” Luna said.
Inky did not reply at first, which seemed odd to Rainbow Dash, as he was usually the first to bite back with some sort of comment. His eyes were not focused, staring off past Spearhead and Luna: as if he were seeing something only his mind could reveal. “How can you guarantee their docility?” Inky finally asked, his tone measured.
“Our sister hath given us the right to negotiate first,” Luna explained. “Unless we declareth it, the armies shall do nothing.” When Inky once again took some time to answer, Luna continued, “The situation at hoof is not as delicate as it couldst be. Letteth us both inside, and we canst keepeth it from becoming as such.”
“The situation is more delicate than you seem to believe,” Inky replied, his voice regaining its normal qualities, “but you make a fair point in avoiding escalation."
His gaze once again focusing intently on Spearhead who would not be the first to break their eye-contact, Inky walked straight through the barrier with no inhibition. However, it was clear that protection was needed, for the moment his nose touched the energy, the four sapphires flared in their color while an identical hue of power flashed over Inky’s Cutie Mark. He strategically never left the field entirely, instead extending a hoof once his front half was through the pink energy. Luna slid inside first, and when she was able to let go of Inky’s hoof and not feel the weight of the field’s magic, her whole body shivered like in a winter storm. Spearhead was more gruff, doing his best to ignore the tingling sensation the magic brought against him: only releasing a passing shudder.
“You okay Princess?” Rainbow asked, the reality of Princess Luna now with them to help gradually sinking in.
“We art just fine Rainbow Dash,” Luna replied, her voice wavering slightly with a second small shiver of her body. “It hath been many years since we hath felt magic of such a potent and invasive nature.”
“I thought you were protected,” Rainbow said, looking maliciously to Inky—who was presently occupied with removing the hoof rings without magical assistance.
“That we were safeguarded from the ill effects is true,” Luna said in a calming tone, “but as an alicorn, we hath a finer sense of the magical. The field is powerful, and we couldst it feel it in something close to its entirety.”
“How easily do you believe unprotected ponies could pass through?” Spearhead asked, coming up to his sovereign’s side.
“From what we felt, we ordereth that it not be attempted,” Luna said firmly. “They wouldst suffer a fate worse than death.”
“So do you have any idea of how you’re going to convince Aurora to let us all out of here?” Spike asked eagerly. “You sound pretty confident.”
“We knoweth what we wouldst like to do,” Luna said, “but the Aurora we knoweth is likely not the same Aurora here with us all now. We will have to improvise.”
“Oh, how encouraging,” Chrysalis said, her rolling eyes matching the sarcasm in her voice perfectly.
“Surely thou understandeth the need to improvise, Morning Dew,” Luna said to her, mildly affronted. “Hath thou not been forced to improvise because of Aurora’s very presence?”
“I had just been hoping for something more definitive from you of all ponies,” Chrysalis replied, clearly disappointed. “A monarch should always have a plan in place, and a secondary one if the first should fail—”
Chrysalis would have continued speaking, but Rainbow interrupted her with a small chuckle, “Morning Dew’s really into political theory.” Luna arched an eyebrow, intrigued, as Dash pressed on, “She reads tons of books about it; thinks she knows everything there is to know.”
“Then you’d know why the army was brought out in the first place, right kid?” Spearhead quizzed Chrysalis.
“It’s an intimidation tactic,” the disguised Changeling replied without hesitation. “The army cannot do anything with the field in place, but its presence is a kind of... unspoken speech about the Princess’s power.” Only Rainbow caught the tone of animosity tainting the last words.
“That’s your mare Your Majesty,” Spearhead spoke to Luna, impressed. “She’s got a sharper political mind than I do.”
“Thou art my assistant in this matter, Spearhead,” Luna said with a note of finality, as if they had had some form of this conversation before. “Though thou art correct, I knoweth thee better. Do not bringeth the topic up again.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Spearhead said, not a little disgruntled.
“Do you expect me to take you to Lady Aurora immediately, Princess Luna?” Inky asked the group, his scratchy voice grating on Rainbow’s ears more than usual as he came up to them.
“We were under that impression, yes,” Luna replied.
“Well, that’s not the case as of this moment,” he said flatly, trotting between the group. “Lady Aurora will not be seeing you until tomorrow. She has work.”
“What a pathetic excuse!” Chrysalis burst out. “I’ve—!” Her voice was cut off with a pained yelp when Spike poked one of his talons against her side.
“Treat it as you will,” Inky said, unaffected, “but that is the message she sent me with.”
“We understandeth completely,” Luna replied, surprising Rainbow with her complacency. “We wouldst much like to learn what hath transpired thus far from Twilight Sparkle and her friends.”
“Feel free to go then,” Inky said rather brusquely. “I’ll come with her summons sometime tomorrow.”
“We art not just some pony to be summoned about,” Luna said with regal authority. “We wilt come to her because we wisheth to. Thou wouldst do well to remindeth Aurora of our status. Perhaps thou wilt also remembereth it as well.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Inky said casually, taking to the skies shortly thereafter. There was a moment of silence in which Luna watched him disappear over Ponyville proper, her eyes studying the ship over Town Hall when he was no longer visible.
“Aurora hath truly outdone herself,” the Night Princess sighed after a time, the weight of countless memories in her voice. “We only wish she had shown greater discretion with her passion.”
“Speaking from a soldier’s point of view Your Majesty,” Spearhead began only to be interrupted by Chrysalis.
“You’re a soldier?!” she asked, sounding both alarmed and angry.
“Yes, filly, that’s what I am,” Spearhead said smoothly. “You have a problem with our breed?”
“Yes,” Chrysalis replied, short and sharp.
“Calmeth thyself, Morning Dew,” Luna said. “A soldier Spearhead mayeth be, but here and now, he resideth as my counselor, nothing more. Thou wast saying Spearhead?”
“Your Majesty, in my experience, passion doesn’t understand discretion. It is full speed ahead, all the time,” the general replied, disgruntled by Chrysalis.
“What thou speaketh maketh much sense, and more knowledge is needed shouldst we be able to succeed in these negotiations,” Luna said purposefully. “Rainbow Dash, leadeth us to the dwelling of Twilight Sparkle.”
“You seriously want to go through all of town?!” Rainbow Dash asked, shocked. “You’ll be mobbed for sure!”
“That doesn’t even begin to measure the amount of awkward questions there’ll be,” Spike added.
“I would hope you weren’t thinking about it,” Chrysalis said.
“No, we were of the mind to float about as the Mist of Night,” Luna answered with a playful smile.
“That’ll work,” Rainbow shrugged, jumping into a hover. “Hope you can keep up.”
“We’re the ones you should be worried about,” Spearhead said, motioning to himself and Spike.
“Nah, it’s alright,” Spike said to the general, unconcerned. “I can get you there. I mean, I do live there an’ all.”
“We wilt be just fine, Spearhead,” Luna reassured him, morphing into smoke. “Lead the way,” her now watery voice said to Rainbow and Chrysalis. Pegasus and disguised Changeling darted into the sky, the Mist of the Night following close behind.
“I sure hope Her Majesty knows what she’s doing, exposing herself so willing to the enemy,” Spearhead muttered as he followed Spike back to the town.
“But that’s not really the point you know,” Spike said sincerely to him. “Maybe you haven’t felt it because you haven’t been trapped here, but just having one of the Princesses around is a real boost.”
“I could feel that there was a change in morale,” Spearhead admitted, “even if that Morning Dew filly didn’t particularly like the idea of having to rely on Her Majesty. The only thing nagging my old, bucking brain, is whether boosted morale alone can withstand a whirlwind?” ______________________________________________________________________________
Luna had never personally been inside the Ponyville Library. She had seen pictures of Twilight and her friends taken inside the place as well blueprints from the royal archives, but none of these truly captured the warm, welcoming feel of the building. The organic shapes, the surroundings all of unprocessed, uncut wood, and the volume of books on shelves all around breathed a sense of comforting nostalgia into her senses. It was very like the old library of the Castle of the Sun and Moon in the early ages.
And yet its chief resident, the one pony Luna wished to speak with the most, was absent. She had been content to wait for her return from Aurora’s vessel, politely refusing the information the others wished to offer up. As her chief advisor for this venture, Luna wanted Spearhead to hear everything she heard at the same time she heard it. Her demand was born of centuries of watching informants mangle their messages as they were forced to tell them again and again. In a situation so delicate, she would not have this happen for the sake of brevity. So when Rarity, the bearer of Generosity, approached to try to speak with her for the fifth time, Luna, said sharply and very near the Royal Canterlot Voice, “Miss Rarity! We hath heard thy attempts to giveth out the information thou deemeth pertinent the four previous times! Our stance remaineth the same!”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” Rarity back-stepped, apologizing profusely. “I didn’t know you would take it that way. Please forgive me. That’s not what I wanted to speak with you about.”
“Then the apology is due thee, not us,” Luna inclined her head to Rarity from where she rested on the reading sofa. “What didst thou wisheth to ask of us?”
“Would you like some tea?” Rarity said in an embarrassed hush. “I know where Twilight keeps it, and I thought...”
“We wouldst very much enjoy tea,” Luna replied, doing her best to alleviate Rarity’s discomfiture. “They do not serveth such things when on the march with an army.”
“Where did you get that many ponies to kick Aurora’s flank by the way?” Rainbow Dash asked enthusiastically.
“That interests me as well,” Morning Dew added, only to be greeted by the briefest of scowls and glares from the other mares in the room. It was one of many signs Luna had observed since her arrival; that despite Rainbow Dash referring to Morning as a friend, none of them seemed to treat her as one would expect a friend to be treated. She was instead treated like an unwelcome outsider that the bearers wished to see gone. Why Morning Dew did not mention this, or why the bearers even acted in such a way in the first place, was quite beyond Luna.
Nevertheless, she was eager to ease the near visible tension between her and all the bearers save Rainbow Dash, and conversation would be as good a cure for it as any other social pleasure. “It was a great task, to be sure,” Luna said. “Equestria hath not had a standing army for countless generations. The system in place now is rather uninteresting, but suffice it to say, we and our sister were surprised we received as many competent ponies as we didst. We wouldst have arrived sooner, hath not other nations reacted most foalishly to the assembling.”
“They thought you were going to attack them,” Fluttershy filled in Luna’s unspoken words. “That must have a real mess to deal with. I can’t imagine...”
“Nor couldst any pony born in this age,” Luna affirmed, her tone becoming irritated at just the thought. “Instead of consulting us and our sister, the ambassadors rushed to inform their heads of state of the call and assembly. The Zebra Chancellor in particular wast quite offensive in his response.”
“Ah, shucks, Princess,” Applejack replied. “Sorry ya had ta go through all tha’ nonsense fer us.”
“We wouldst have done the same for any of our cities,” Luna said, reassured her. “After all, if a ruler is not willing to go to any and all lengths for the safety of her ponies, what kind of ruler is she really?”
“How good do you think the army is?” Rainbow asked.
“We hopeth that such a measure needeth not to be taken,” Luna replied, slightly admonishing. “It is our highest hope that our negotiations succeedeth.”
“You should know, Princess,” Morning said, her stress on Luna’s title just shy of contempt, “that Aurora Streak is an impassioned pony. She will steal, murder, and backstab anypony to see her will accomplished.”
“We wouldst ask how thou thinketh thou knoweth more than us about a pony banished from Equestria nearly one thousand ago?” Luna asked testily. “It is impossible, especially as we kneweth her before her banishment.”
“Is there a problem Your Majesty?” the older voice of Spearhead sounded into the room at the click of the door. He and Spike strode into the circle of ponies, the dragon heading off into the kitchen after asking Fluttershy for where Rarity was.
“This pony here hath only had the unfortunate experience of Aurora as an invader,” Luna said, gesturing to Morning.
“Permission to speak freely Your Majesty?” Spearhead said, clearly unsure of his monarch’s reaction of his initial thoughts.
“Thou hath always had it,” Luna nodded.
“That pony is an invader Your Majesty,” Spearhead replied quickly. “I cannot ignore that fact. Everything she’s done clearly points to an occupation, and occupation always precedes invasion. I’d take that into account during your negotiations Your Majesty.”
“But Aurora hath never been the militaristic type,” Luna protested. “She couldst not command two guards let alone an invasion force.”
“Maybe not in words,” Morning said darkly. “But intent is in the mind, and that she has.”
“But ponies doth not have easily accessible minds for telepathy,” Luna said. “And—”
“She wouldn’t be commanding ponies Princess,” the voice of one Twilight Sparkle sounded stalwartly from the doorway. Everypony in the room turned to see her, Luna noticing the eager—more accurately, desperate—shine in Morning’s eyes at her presence.
“Twilight dear!” Rarity was the first to speak, her joy-filled tone expressing everypony’s feeling at seeing her. “You’re just in time. I have tea for everypony while we fill Princess Luna in.” Twilight nodded to each of the ponies in turn (a bow for Luna), but her face remained grim as she took a seat. Anypony could see something of an unforeseen magnitude had been dropped atop her mind by Aurora, but also visible was a more subtle concentration as she tried to sort out a less complicated issue. “Chrysalis, I hope you—!” Rarity stopped with a sharp intake of breath and a hoof over her mouth. The entire room was deathly silent.
“Didst thou just calleth Morning Dew Chrysalis?” Luna asked, not sure whether to be stunned, angry, confused, or all three. Spearhead’s response was measured by his militaristic training as Luna’s chief protector. His horn glowed a muddy amber, a spell blasting from it directly at Morning Dew. But as well-trained and experienced-honed as Spearhead was, his raw-power was little against a Changeling ruler. Chrysalis conjured an opaque magical shield with a flash of her acid green magic, her eyes flashing to their original hue at the increased magical exertion. Whatever the spell’s intended effect, it accomplished only revealing Chrysalis to Luna.
“STAYETH BACK!” the Princess of the Night roared to the Changeling who maintained her disguise.
“No! Princess Luna! She’s on our side!” Twilight insisted, placing herself between Luna and Chrysalis.
“Get out of the way filly,” Spearhead grunted, a second spell building on his horn. “I don’t want to do it, but I will blast you out of the way to reach the scum.”
“THOU VILE CREATURE!” Luna still ranted at Chrysalis. “WE KNEWETH THY KIND WERE OF THE LOWEST FILTH, BUT THOU HATH STOOPED TO A NEW LEVEL OF CRIMINALITY! RELEASETH THE BEARERS NOW, AND WE MIGHTETH YET CONSIDER NOT BURNING THEE INTO ASHES!”
“Oh please, I wish you could hear yourself,” Chrysalis said, unintimidated as her eyes moved from Luna to Spearhead and back to Luna. “Fooling a love struck stallion near his wedding day was no challenge. But even the most skilled of my ancestors would never attempt something so foolish as to try to control six mares without any love to manipulate.” Before continuing to speak, a flash of green magic surrounded Chrysalis, transforming back into her true, ash-black form. She shook her head, settling her turquoise hair, and said, “Step away Twilight Sparkle. Prove you are right to Princess Luna.” Cautiously—almost warily—Twilight sidled out from between the two monarchs whose eyes had yet to leave the other’s.
“Stay thy horn Spearhead,” Luna said, curious. “Turneth thy powers to the bearers. We wilt not even be partially convinced ‘til they be checked.”
“Your Highness,” Spearhead acknowledged, assured that Luna would be able hold Chrysalis at bay should the queen make any move of aggression. “C’mere kids,” he said to Twilight’s friends. “You too young filly,” he nodded to Twilight when she refused to move from where she watched Luna and Chrysalis bore their pupils into one another. “The spell I’m going to do on you is gonna make a tingling in your gut,” Spearhead explained briefly. “Don’t try to resist trembling, it’s impossible. If you don’t shiver, that means the Changeling’s got your mind.”
“Wait, hold on a sec! I feel fine and I know Chrysalis hasn’t shot me with spells!” Rainbow Dash protested; only to sputter and shake when Spearhead unconcernedly did exactly that. Twilight and the rest were more complacent, allowing Spearhead to touch each of them on the forehead with his glowing horn and shivering like in a winter storm shortly thereafter.
“She has no hold on them Your Majesty,” he concluded.
“Then explaineth thyselves bearers,” Luna said stoutly, she and Chrysalis continuing to stare resolutely at each other. It was not a request.
“Aurora was just horrible to her,” Fluttershy said swiftly before asking her friends, “You... um don’t mind if I say... tell the Princess, do you?”
“Go ahead Fluttershy, dear,” Rarity said, nodding. “I think you would do a better job explaining this particular part of our experience than the rest of us.”
“Thanks Rarity,” Fluttershy smiled at her before saying to Luna, “So Aurora has been just horrible to her. She had Inky try to... to... to kill her, then took away her connection to all her Changelings. And, well... um... that’s all...” For Luna, Fluttershy ended rather abruptly, but the earnestness of her voice alone spoke volumes.
“Surely thou kneweth our sister and us wouldst be in disapproval,” Luna said, her comment directed unquestionably to Twilight. “This villain canst not be trusted.”
“We didn’t have much of a choice Your Majesty,” Twilight said. “Rainbow Dash tried to help me when I first went to see Aurora and—”
“She murdered one of my children,” Chrysalis finished coldly, reminding everypony present that her desire for vengeance had not vanished from her mind. Rainbow Dash was affected more than the others at her sharpness, visibly flinching away. “But Aurora Streak committed a greater crime by stealing my children away from me, and these mares were the only ones I could place any form of confidence in.”
“To be totally honest, Queen,” Applejack said matter-of-factly, “I thank I can say for us alls tha’ we woulda helped ya anywho. It ain’t right for families ta be separated, even figurtively speakin’.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking!” Rainbow burst out. “That we should stick together instead of splitting up all the time!”
“Tha’s mighty kind a’ ya Rainbow,” Applejack smiled to her friend. “But tha point is Princess, even if not everypony likes it, we’re all in tha same leaky boat.”
“It’s totally weird,” Rainbow Dash agreed, “and awkward to the max, but AJ’s right. She’s on our side.”
“Be that as it mayeth be,” Luna conceded, though her tone was still reluctant. She took to lying upon the sofa once again, Chrysalis lying on the floor where she was. Everypony else followed her lead, forming a ring while Rarity passed around the tea that had had just enough time to cool during the confrontation. “But thou shouldst know Queen Chrysalis,” Luna warned, “we hath been alive since before thy birth and the birth of thy great-grandmothers. We shalt see any trickery thou mayeth hath planned for our ponies.”
“I don’t care about you or any of the Equestrians, except Rainbow Dash,” Chrysalis said dangerously. “Aurora will reap what she has sown. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Never thought I’d see that saying, ‘I’d rather work with a bucking Changeling’ come true,” Spearhead said to no one in particular as he scrutinized Chrysalis. His military training dictated he keep his eyes on his enemies whenever possible, and there was no doubt in the minds of anypony that some of his attention would always be upon Chrysalis.
“Twilight Sparkle,” Luna addressed her formally, “now that we hath resolved the immediate problems, relate to us all that thou knoweth. Everypony else, feeleth free to addeth anything Twilight canst not recall or canst not know for lack of being present.”
Twilight immediately deferred to Chrysalis, citing the fact that aside from Inky Jay, she was the first to have contact with Aurora as she traveled toward Equestria. Chrysalis recounted in slightly more detail how Aurora had enlisted her services, though she still left out the specifics of some of the methods by which Aurora had convinced her of the venture. Thereafter, Twillight took over, supplemented occasionally by her friends’ experiences and eventually completely leaving the telling to Rainbow Dash as she did her best to emotionlessly describe her fight with the Changeling. She never shed a tear nor did her voice ever crack, but her words were rendered passive, weighted, and methodical. Twilight was glad Rainbow could relate the story calmly and that she did not let those shocking events change who she was or stop her from doing things; but Twilight felt pained that Dash was still possessed of lingering guilt. And judging by Princess Luna’s face, she was easily empathizing with Rainbow.
Thankfully, Rainbow Dash became her usual, aggressive self a few minutes after Twilight had begun to narrate their experiences once again. Chrysalis and Twilight shared the spotlight for most of the remaining accounting, jumping between one another quite readily when relating the fight in the bagel shop. Through it all, Luna remained as steadily impassive as Twilight had ever seen in a mare. Certain things like Rainbow’s fight with the Changeling and the exploding of the bagel shop evoked a subtle response in her face, but nothing more. Spearhead was even grimmer, his features never once wavering. Only when Twilight paused longer than she had previously, preparing to open up Aurora’s newest revelations, did Luna speak.
“The situation hath taken on a graver tone than we had first assumed,” Luna lamented. “By her very recruitment of Changelings, she hath stated her lack of inhibition to open war.”
“There’s more, Princess,” Twilight said her voice hard.
“You will answer my question first,” Chrysalis interrupted. “I care nothing for the troubles Aurora may bring upon Equestria with her inventions, but I must know if she will release my children.”
“I... I can’t be sure,” Twilight decided to answer truthfully. “That’s not what I asked her to do.”
“Why?!” Chrysalis burst out. “That was our agreement! You help me free them and I do not take a life for a life!”
“Don’t!” Spearhead growled, his horn surrounded by his magic, much the same as Chrysalis’s twisted spike. Rarity, Fluttershy, Applejack, and Pinkie Pie closed ranks around Rainbow Dash, forming barrier of ponies between their friend and the Changeling queen.
“Thou hath made Chrysalis a promise Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “Why hath thou not honored it?”
“It wasn’t like I didn’t try to get us somewhere with the Changelings,” Twilight snapped to Chrysalis. “But if I had asked her to free them, she would’ve known that you were helping us. And if Aurora found that out, everything we’ve been trying to do would be useless. I asked her to reveal that she has Changelings on board.”
“And how will that help?” Chrysalis sneered.
“I don’t know,” Twilight admitted defiantly. “But I think it’s a step in the right direction. If we’re working to get the Changelings back to you, everypony needs to know that she has them in the first place.”
“After thy failed invasion,” Luna said to Chrysalis, not malicious or hateful, “we and our sister thoughteth it good to comissioneth a magical autopsy on some of the fallen Changelings to calmeth fears that they were still amongst us. The autopsy revealed that Changelings have a telepathic network unique to themselves. This result was published to Equestria at large. By having Aurora revealeth that she hath Changelings on her side, Twilight Sparkle wilt have shown the ponies of Ponyville that her control of them is artificial.”
“And who is to say they won’t welcome the idea that Changelings can be subdued so easily?” Chrysalis hissed. “Your kind’s fear of me and mine borders on paranoia.”
“Thanks for the compliment Princess, but I wasn’t thinking about it like that. I was just trying to keep Chrysalis’s allegiances away from Aurora for as long as possible,” Twilight said sheepishly with a slight blush.
“Well what did Aurora say?” Rarity asked. “Surely she resisted the idea.”
“She didn’t say whether she was against it or not,” Twilight replied, hindsight causing her to be just as puzzled as Rarity. “I asked her to lower the field around Ponyville, and she didn’t budge on not doing that, but she never told me whether she was against or for revealing the Changelings.”
“Coward,” Rainbow spat. “I mean really. What kind of pony has a secret of army of Changelings and might tell the defenseless town about them, and traps them inside a magic bubble?!”
“There’s a fine line between smart and cowardly, filly,” Spearhead said. “This Aurora mare is leanin’ more towards smart in my book.”
“You’ve got no idea,” Twilight said. “Princess, she told me about Latency.” Every face in the room was distorted into shapes of utter cluelessness except for Luna, and oddly, Chrysalis.
“Well, it is a real word...” Rarity trailed off in confusion.
“It sounds like some word from some noble’s fancy-smanshy speech, no offense Princess,” Applejack said.
“Oooh! Oooh!” Pinkie waved a hoof from where she sat. “I know what that word means!”
“Did she mention it in context?” both Luna and Chrysalis said at the same time, though Luna’s voice was saddened while Chrysalis’s tone was demandingly curious.
“It has to do with magic,” Twilight said to her friends, only to have Pinkie Pie reply,
“But that doesn’t make any sense!”
To Princess Luna, Twilight said solemnly, “Yes, she covered all of that. It was the most emotional I’ve ever seen her. Even though she said she didn’t, I think she blames herself for Nightmare Moon.”
“Wait, Aurora’s responsible for turning Luna into Nightmare Moon?!” Rainbow Dash shouted, exasperated. “Okay! That’s it! I’m done. How can we still negotiate with a pony like that?!” Twilight’s other friends nodded, more shocked than angry, and less impassioned than Rainbow, but still sharing her view.
“She’s right,” Chrysalis agreed grudgingly. “I remember growing up when the Nightmare was in the middle of her crusade for Eternal Night. Even Changelings feared her long leg of power.”
“Ceaseth, all of you!” Luna ordered. “We wilt not speaketh falsely to tryeth to absolve Aurora of all guilt in the matter, but we must also bear much of the weight. We manipulated our best friend for power’s sake, and we hath been forced to live with the consequences of betrayed friendship ever since. We art, in fact, pleased to hear that those terrible events hath not dissuaded her from work in Latency.”
“But what is it?” Chrysalis asked, again still intrigued and eager.
“Well, if it’s about magic,” Pinkie Pie proposed quite seriously, “than it must have something do with being a pegasus, Earth pony, or unicorn.”
“That sounds reasonable,” Fluttershy said.
“That’s what a normal pony would think,” Twilight corrected. “She calls it Latency because she thinks it’s a more apt description, but she’s actually just talking about Cutie Mark Magic.”
“But what does it mean for Changelings?” Chrysalis pressed. “She tried to usurp my authority to decide what the horde should or should not do on the grounds that she created us through Latency. I reasserted that it was my decision in the end, but I cannot get her words out of my head. She explained Latency to you, so is it even possible that she created Changelings with it?”
“It’s more than possible Chrysalis,” Twilight replied, sounding more gentle than she thought possible of herself when speaking to the queen. “I actually think it’s true.”
“No,” Chrysalis denied the statement forcefully. “I refuse to believe that I fall beneath some Celestia-spawn that has no value on life.”
“Thou hath not properly taken the measure of her,” Luna chastised. “Aurora Streak valueth life, but only that life which seeth her vision. All others she believeth to be beneath her. She may hath brought forth thy ancestors, but the Changelings of the present art far removed from the ancient Changelings. Thou art as different from them as thou art from ponies. Taketh peace in the knowledge that thou art as high as us and our sister.”
“This making-everypony-feel-better-about-themselves is great and all,” Rainbow said dryly, “but, Twilight, you still haven’t really explained what Lateny, or whatever the hay it’s called, is.”
“I said it was Cutie Mark magic,” Twilight said. “According to Aurora, it’s the organic form of the same magic she uses to build her Devices. Because of the similarity, she can manipulate it through her understanding of the inorganic form.”
“That jus’ don’ sound right,” Applejack said plainly.
“It’s more than that,” Rarity said, severely offended. “It is, quite simply, vulgar and perverted.”
“Now I wouldn’ go tha’ far,” Applejack amended. “It may not be right, but I know four fillies tha’ would jump at a chance to get their Cutie Marks.”
“I thought she could give them out at first too,” Twilight elaborated, hoping to forestall implications. “But apparently trying to do that is what resulted in Changelings.” She glanced in Chrysalis’s direction, trying to gauge her reaction, before continuing. Thankfully, the queen was content to listen for the moment. “What she can do is take some of the magic—it’s not all used up when a pony gets their Cutie Mark—and, for lack of a better term, give a pony a second talent.”
“How’s that helpful to anypony?” Rainbow Dash asked, skeptical.
“The way thou speaketh, Twilight Sparkle, we taketh it that thou wast given the same information we were all those years ago,” Luna answered. “Rainbow Dash, Aurora Streak’s research couldst give skill to a pony in any area in which it wast needed: to Guardsponies for battle or survival skills for ponies seeking to trekketh into the wilderness.”
“She wants me to tell everypony about it,” Twilight said heavily. “I don’t agree with what she’s trying to do; I think everypony should gain that extra power naturally like me and my friends.” Fluttershy and Rarity were eyed one another at this revelation, more surprised than the others. “But at the same time, I can’t refuse in good conscious. I can’t make everypony’s decision for them.”
“The technology works,” Luna said. “I canst not telleth thou which way thou oughteth to turn. Our own disastrous results with Aurora’s experiment wast our fault and ours alone. We canst see a world of good it mighteth bring to other ponies.”
“How would you like to go about arranging to make the speech dear?” Rarity asked Twilight. “I think a good time would be while Princess Luna talks with Aurora.”
“Wait, there’s more,” Twilight said darkly. “She only wants my friends to know what I’m about to tell all of you, but Princess, there’s no way she wouldn’t mention it during negotiations, and Chrysalis, how we proceed in getting the Changelings released hinges on this; so I think I can tell both of you.”
“This doesn’t sound good,” Fluttershy trembled pre-emptively. Twilight’s lack of a refutation only solidified the mood in the library. An unnatural hush settled upon the group, each pony’s thoughts flying to the worst possible scenario (and coming up with counter-strategies for Spearhead’s part). The feeling of a looming, imminent threat was echoed outside: a flash of lightning and roll of thunder calling, dulled, from somewhere outside the pink prison.
“She’s made copies of the Elements of Harmony,” Twilight decided to say as simply as possible. Chrysalis did not find this information at all pertinent or even fear invoking, but Twilight had assumed as much. Spearhead swore vehemently with language only a soldier would know while Luna’s eyes pupils dilated so far that the whites of her eyes were almost completely hidden. This too, Twilight had expected. But her friends—her friends only laughed. Well, Rainbow Dash outright guffawed, Pinkie giggled, and Rarity, Fluttershy, and Applejack snickered. “It’s true!” Twilight turned angrily to them. “She doesn’t think the Elements should be allowed to be borne by anypony, so she’s built a machine to harness their power artificially.”
“Oh, don’ think wer laughin’ at ya sugarcube,” Applejack regained her senses quickest. “If we’re all laughin’ fer tha same reason, it’s ‘cause it sounds like completely hooey.”
“Seriously Twilight,” Rainbow Dash stifled her laughs, “you actually believe her?! I mean, her other stuff’s weird, but it still seems like it could work. Did you actually see them working?”
“No,” Twilight admitted, “but that’s when I asked her to lower the field and reveal the Changelings. She needs us. All six of us. Her Elements won’t work without our brainwaves to activate them.”
“So thou denied her until she hath fulfilled thy demands,” Luna concluded.
“Yes,” Twilight replied, “but she point-blank refused to lower the field.”
“I would do the same thing if I were in her position,” Spearhead said. “That shield is the only thing between her and the Armies of the Sun and Moon, and she knows it. As far as military demands go, your request was way out of line filly.”
“We agree with Spearhead,” Luna said. “However noble thy intentions Twilight Sparkle, you asked of her that which she couldst not perform for her own security.”
“Even she does decide to tell everypony about Changelings,” Rainbow interjected, “there’s no way in Tartarus that I’m letting that crazy mare do experiments on me.”
“Wouldst thou reconsider if we sanctioned it and were present?” Luna asked her deftly.
“You couldn’t do much, even if you were there,” Rainbow countered. “She steals pegasus wings and unicorn horns when a pony gets close to or on board the ship.”
“She’s right Princess,” Twilight said. “For us, the bearers, it’s more intense, but ponies all over Ponyville try to avoid the ship so they don’t feel their powers... subdued I think is a good word.”
“The only magic the Changelings could keep was our ability to shape-shift,” Chrysalis supported Twilight and Rainbow. “My offensive magic was made worse than a foal’s first attempts.”
“We art more than our wings and horn,” Luna chuckled. “Aurora hath never had true combat training. Our very own Spearhead hath been kind enough to instruct us.”
“She’s been doing very well foals,” Spearhead said to Luna’s doubters. “Now, Her Highness isn’t any Shining Armor, but against an untrained pony with not a lot of magic to defend herself with, Her Highness would have her beaten in only a few blows.”
“Okay, that’s great, and really awesome Princess,” Rainbow said, still leery, “but magic’s weird. What if the process can’t be stopped once it’s been started?”
“If thou wast speaking of natural magic, then thy argument wouldst be valid,” Luna replied. “Since Aurora is accomplishing her ends by artificial magic, simple removal of the device in question wilt cease the progression.” When everypony around her still looked unconvinced, Luna continued, mildly irritated, “Considereth it an aid in the negotiations. If thee all wilt cooperate, we thinketh she wilt open up. The completion of an experiment always putteth Aurora into higher, more agreeable spirits. Everything might yet be settled by this one thing, even thy predicament Chrysalis.”
“Okay foals,” Spearhead said, sounding somewhat impatient, “here’s the rub: it might sound like a good idea to resist this Aurora mare whenever you can, but small acts of defiance here and there will just drag this occupation out indefinitely. At least until Princess Celestia and the Magic Engineering Corps find a way to break in. But by then, every pony in this town could be dead from starvation or worse.”
“Princess Luna, if you think this path of action is the swiftest to my children’s liberation, I will take your side,” Chrysalis said.
“It is the swiftest course for us all,” Luna concluded.
“Alright, fine,” Rainbow threw her hooves in the air as she spoke to Spearhead. “I see your point, Oldie, and I won’t let Ponyville down by thinking I can do it all by myself.”
“It’ll be scary,” Fluttershy conceded, “but it’ll be okay with Princess Luna around.”
“STARVING WOULD BE HORRIBLE!” Pinkie shouted. “NO CUPCAKES!? I’m in.”
“My family knows a thang er two ‘bout bein’ hungry,” Applejack said. “I wouldn’ want everypony ta go through tha’ an’ worse. We gotta do it.”
“I will not be the one pony to have blood on her hooves,” Rarity said pointedly.
“Then we are all agreed,” Twilight nodded, much of her apprehension fading away now that they had come to a firm conclusion. “Princess Luna and Spearhead will begin negotiations whenever Inky Jay comes for them. In the meantime, I’ll work something out with the Mayor to tell everypony about Latency. If everything goes according to plan, the idea will warm ponies to Aurora and she’ll be willing to reveal the Changelings. After that, all we can do is hope that the Princess has succeeded in her negotiations and we can all see the rest of Equestria again.”
It was a new morning in Ponyville, and Twilight felt a twinge of regret as she entered Ponyville’s Town Hall with Rarity. In all of the commotion in being caught up in Chrysalis’s affairs, her attention to her fellow townsfolk had all but disintegrated. On one hoof, she tried to convince herself that this was a good sign: that it was encouraging that ponies were not sprawled on her doorstep begging for something to eat. However, she could not deny that she had failed dismally as an ambassador. While Aurora was partly to blame for this—giving Twilight little information to relay back to the town either because of cryptic messages or taking matters into her own hooves—Twilight also knew she should have tried to do more to calm everypony and make them feel safe. Princess Celestia would have known exactly how to handle the situation she knew. Entering Town Hall was a reminder to Twilight that no matter how favored she was of Celestia and now matter how much fate had gifted her, she still had much to learn if she was ever to live up to the Princess’s legacy.
Inside the central buidling of Ponyville, those of its citizens for whom the excitement of seeing the Armies of the Sun and Moon had faded milled about, speaking animatedly to one another. There was a simple volunteer at the door to the Mayor’s office, taking down the names of ponies when they arrived. And every time somepony would leave the adjacent room, he would make a neat strikethrough on his list and call out a name. The whole scene produced in Twilight a feeling of remorse that the Mayor was being forced to bear a load that was in truth largely meant for her. Not that she would be able to do any better than the Mayor; in fact, Twilight half-heartedly grinned to herself at the idea of her trying to stay focused, organized, and patient as dozens of ponies clamored to speak with her. No, the Mayor was doing a fine job, but it was the principle of the thing.
“Twilight dear,” Rarity said concernedly. “Is something the matter? You look perplexed the way you’re staring off into space like that.” Twilight briefly shook her head, bringing her thoughts to the present reality.
“I’m okay Rarity,” Twilight assured her friend. “And thanks for volunteering to come along. From the look of things, this might take a while.”
“It was nothing dear,” Rarity replied good-naturedly. “Besides, the tension between our little band is not good for a mare’s complexion.”
“You’ve got that right,” Twilight agreed, it not the first time she noticed she was frowning more the longer Aurora’s occupation lasted. “Yes, my name is Twilight Sparkle and I need to see the Mayor immediately,” she said to the impromptu secretary.
“Sorry Miss,” the reedy Earth pony stallion said. “I’ve got strict instructions to make a list, and not to give anypony favors.”
“This isn’t about favors,” Twilight replied grumpily. Of all things, asking for the Mayor’s heralds should have been the easiest part of making the speech. “This is about all of Ponyville, and what Aurora Streak wanted me to tell everypony.”
“Everything’s about that half-crazy mare,” the stallion snorted. “And you’ve only been to her ship once ma’am. It’s not like she’s told you anything else.”
“Oh for the love of...!” Rarity growled, her horn glowing. The Earth pony was promptly grasped in her cyan magic, levitated to the side of the entrance to the Mayor’s office, and set back onto the carpet.
“No!” the stallion said, zipping back in front of them before either mare had been able to take more than two steps. “Try that again, and I won’t put your names down at all.”
“What’s going on out here Fountain?” the Mayor asked, her head stuck out the door to her office in curiosity.
“These two mares,” Fountain replied, frustrated. “They tried to get past me.”
“Is that Twilight Sparkle?” the Mayor asked, completely ignoring her secrectary’s complaints.
“Yes Mayor, it’s me. It’s urgent.” Twilight replied authoritatively. She and Rarity took their chance and brushed past Fountain to speak with the Mayor directly. “Can we talk with you right away?”
“We wouldn’t come and disrupt this nice system you have going here if we could help it,” Rarity added sincerely.
“I won’t even ask you girls if it’s about Aurora Streak,” the Mayor replied bedraggled. “Do we need to step in the office?”
Twilight shook her head before saying, “No Mayor. I was just wondering if you could lend me your heralds.”
“What’s the message?” the Mayor asked without hesitation.
“I need everypony to meet around the library so I can talk to them,” Twilight replied. “I had another meeting with Aurora and she has a—I guess you could call it a procedure—that she wants to offer to everypony who wants it.”
“And you’re sure this ‘procedure’ is safe?” the Mayor asked in a predictably wary tone.
“It works, that’s for sure,” Rarity answered instead, her voice tainted ever so slightly by revulsion. “But whether or not it is safe is another matter entirely.”
“Would I advise having it done? No,” Twilight said firmly. “But that’s only because Princess Celestia has taught me much about the innate driving forces of magic. Other ponies might not have any problem with it. That’s their decision to make.”
“I’m sorry Twilight,” the Mayor said, “but I cannot grant you use of the heralds to carry that message. If something were to happen, the blame would be on me for acting foolishly.”
“Then let me take the blame,” Twilight said. “I’ll take full liability.” Leaning in close to the Mayor’s ear, she added, “This is a part of Princess Luna’s negotiation plan.” Twilight had to give the elder mare credit; she was a true politician, even if only the mayor of a small rural town. Where most ponies’ eyes would have dilated massively and their very body language betray their shock, relief, and enthusiasm, the Mayor maintained a straight, level face: not a muscle moved.
“And you will take any legal consequences?” the Mayor asked evenly, as if no new information had passed to her.
“Yes, I will,” Twilight affirmed.
“You have her request on paper, Fountain?” the Mayor asked, leaning around Rarity and Twilight to see her assistant.
“Yes ma’am. Just on the off-chance you’d need it,” Fountain answered.
“Then you know where to go,” the Mayor said, her assistant running off before she had even finished. Returning her attention to Twilight, she said, “And you don’t have to worry about me revealing anything early.”
“Do your best,” the Mayor replied, going back into her office and closing the door.
The two mares followed suit, taking their leave of the building with Rarity shooting warning glares at anypony that eyed them too curiously. Nevertheless, the library was crowded with ponies around the door and in the road, all yelling at angrily at the door. Nothing any one of them said could be understood, lost in the garble of voices and disjointed shouts.
“Great,” Twilight muttered, not trying in the least to hide her sarcasm.
“The nerve!” Rarity exclaimed. “To think that you know why everything is happening the way that it is.”
“You of all ponies should know about the power of a stupid rumor,” Twilight glowered to her friend.
“That is hardly the point,” Rarity replied, stopping with Twilight a few paces away while they tried to decide how to get in the library without causing any more of a commotion. “You are the student of Princess Celestia herself, and I would think my fellow citizens know you well enough to not be so ridiculous.” The two watched the gathering mob for a little while more before Rarity spoke up again, “Why not just teleport us inside? You know your own house well enough and somepony has even had the sense to close all of the curtains.”
“The flash is too bright,” Twilight responded briskly, having already thought of and tossed away that idea. “It would go right through the curtains.” Rarity sighed deeply, completely out of viable options that did not involve forcibly throwing ponies out of the way with magic. She was sitting on the road, tapping one hoof in thoughtful repetition while gazing into the pink-tinted sky when a resounding thud echoed through the street.
The clamour of the mob escalated into war cry-like yelling, the voices becoming unified in its support of the actions of any of its members. “Hey!” Twilight started, caught off guard. “What are you all doing?!” she asked incredulously. Rarity scrambled to her hooves, trotting a few steps to catch Twilight and looking for the source of her friend’s disbelief. “What makes you think that throwing rocks at my library is going to accomplish anything!?”
“Are you serious Twilight?” Rarity asked, hardly believing the accusation herself. When her friend nodded sharply, Rarity added to the mob, “The shame! Is this the kind of behavior the Princesses would expect out of us?!”
“But he’s in there!” a pony from somewhere within the mob struggled to be heard. “That cohort of the alicorn! Let’s see how they both like it when they get separated! Maybe then she’ll let us see our Princesses again!” Any calming effect Rarity and Twilight’s reprimanding may have had was instantly lost, ponies stomping their hooves in agreement.
“Inky is more trouble for anypony than he’s worth,” Twilight grumbled. “Rarity, we’re going to teleport inside.”
“Whenever you’re ready Twilight,” she replied. Twilight built up the magic, drawing the attention of some ponies in the mob, but had vanished and reappeared inside the library before most of them even noticed.
“Woah! Sweet Celestia!” Rainbow Dash’s voice being the first new sound Twilight heard. “Don’t do that again Twi. I thought one of those dimwits outside had decided to teleport in.”
“Sorry Rainbow,” Twilight said. “But hey, that’s a good idea.” She lit her horn again, this time a thin violet beam of magic coming off of its tip and vanishing through the ceiling.
While Twilight was confident in the shield spell that was her family’s specialty, the energetic guffaws and giggling laughter from Applejack and Pinkie Pie upstairs were not an unwelcome confirmation of her success. “Those silly ponies!” Pinkie lost herself in hysterics.
“Rollin’ head over hooves like an armadillo!” Applejack giggled. “Who’d a thunk it?”
“And that shield will hold for how long exactly?” Inky Jay’s scratch of a voice jolted Twilight’s head to a shelf of books partially hidden in an alcove. Inky had not even trotted out of the isolated section, nor had he even turned his eyes away from scrutinizing the books.
“Find Chrysalis,” Twilight hissed in Rarity’s ear before addressing Inky as Rainbow flew off to join Applejack and Pinkie. “Indefinitely if I keep recharging it,” Twilight answered him, doing her best to keep any irritation out of her voice, though she could not help adding, “You do realize why I needed to put up?”
“Ignorance and fear have been nurtured under Celestia’s rule,” Inky replied matter-of-factly. “Or will you argue that any other motives are required for rioters?”
“No, but Princess Celestia isn’t responsible for those things,” Twilight retorted. “Aurora is.”
“It amazes me that you will defend her to the last even when the truth is right in front of your eyes,” Inky spat disdainfully. “Aurora did not bring about either of those things. She merely caused them to surface amongst ponies who had been protected and not allowed to overcome them.”
“Do you not have any faith in the pony race at all?!” Twilight gasped, unable to understand why Inky only ever focused on the negatives of pony society. “At least Aurora believes everypony can become better.”
“Do I believe in in the pony race as a whole?” Inky repeated her question to himself, swiftly answering, “No, I do not. My faith rests in individuals.”
“Have Princess Luna and Spearhead already left for the ship?” she asked, shaking her head in a sigh. She and Inky were idealistically opposed, and she knew that very few things would shake a worldview built by observation and experience.
“Yes,” Inky replied, trotting leisurely out of the alcove, a book under one wing. Twilight could not see the title, but it was a large tome, whatever it was. “She has instructions to stay inconspicuous and that they will be transported inside via the lift.”
“So why are you still here, besides looking for the book?” Twilight asked, a scathing tone working its way under her words. While she did not particularly hate Inky Jay, his opinionated persona would inevitably spawn an argument between the two of them, and under the present circumstances, a snide comment-ridden philosophical debate with him of all ponies was the last thing she wanted to do.
“When your friends,” Inky answered, pausing as his eyes motioned upstairs from where amused laughter could still be heard, “told me of how you planned to spread the word on Lady Aurora’s Latency Project, I thought it best to stay behind and explain to the crowd how the Ascension will be conducted.”
“You know, I distinctly remember you saying you were just a pony who took notes for Aurora,” Twilight said slyly. “You lied didn’t you?”
“I did, under her direct orders,” Inky smirked at her realization. “The way she wanted to reveal everything to you she had meticulously laid out. Even I was not to interfere with that until her motives had become clear, and even then, she forbade me from revealing anything of consequence.”
“I could be dishonest with myself and say I would never do something like that,” Twilight admitted with a light chuckle, “but if Princess Celestia asked me to lie for her sake and the sake of Equestria, I would probably only hesitate long enough to wonder if it was really Princess Celestia asking me to lie.”
With nothing more to say on the subject, or really any subject, Inky remained silent, lying down out of the way by a bookshelf, intently opening the large volume he had extracted from deeper in the library. Now out from under his wing, Twilight recognized an anthology of philosophy from across many ages and races. That it appealed to Inky was of no surprise to her. She watched him for a few minutes, feeling as if there was something they still needed to discuss; but eventually waved the feeling away. His contemplative silence was not a feature of his personality she was accustomed to experiencing, and she thus attributed her odd directionless feeling to the unfamiliarity.
Deciding that trying to find a way around the odd sensation would be pointless, and that if she stood there aimlessly any longer Inky would make some cynical remark, Twilight directed her hoofsteps into the kitchen. Not only did she want something nice as a snack, but Rarity had entered the kitchen first in her search for Chrysalis and had yet to come back. The only logical reason for this in Twilight’s mind, was that Chrysalis was there as well.
Twilight’s hairs began to stand on edge as she neared the kitchen, the whispers of Fluttershy and Rarity coming to her ears only just as she eased the door open. Fluttershy squeaked as quietly as was possible at Twilight’s unexpected intrusion, cutting off Rarity in the middle of whatever she had been saying. “What’s—” Twilight began to ask in a normal speaking voice, only to have the words stolen out of her mouth at the sight of Chrysalis.
Beautiful did not even seem appropriate to capture the majestic display before her. Twilight, for her part, had never considered the Changelings to be outright ugly. They disturbed her more than the other races with their eerie similarity to pony physiology, but she would have never used ‘ugly’ as a word by which to describe their physical appearance. But just as much, Twilight had never thought of them as prime specimens of beauty. But now struck with Chrysalis’s current appearance, she was forced to reconsider her position.
The queen was sitting meditatively at one end of Twilight’s meager table in her natural form. Her eyes were closed as if in a peaceful dream and her breathing was the restful fall and rise of a practiced monk. The sense of tranquility she radiated was not a feeling Twilight thought she would ever notice in Chrysalis, let alone so plainly see. But her clear inner peace was only like the backdrop to a master’s painting. Her horn was glowing not with its usual sickening green, but with a deep, soothing, and soft turquoise; and it was not actually enveloped in an aura. The curved notches in her horn radiated a faint glow, giving off small rays like the morning sun through a break in the clouds. Her horn, however, was not all that glowed with the semi-blue light. The edges of every hole in her legs, wings, and even mane and tail emitted the soft glow. She was like a stream twinkling under starlight, peaceful and softly striking. Twilight could only compare the sight to that of Celestia rising with the radiance of her sun during the Summer Sun Celebration.
“What... what is she doing?” Twilight hushed to Fluttershy and Rarity, now realizing why they had reduced their conversation to mere whispers. It was that same feeling of hushed crowds when Celestia stood before them in all her regal glory.
“Fluttershy thinks she’s sleeping,” Rarity breathed back, “and while there’s nothing to say otherwise, I think she’s... feeding.” The last word was punctuated by a visible shudder.
“Thing is Twilight,” Spike leaned in between his surrogate mother and Rarity, having just come out of the walk-in pantry, “she talked about feeding when Rainbow’n I would’ve been around to see it. She sure as hay didn’t look like that then.”
“She could have been lying,” Rarity said flatly. Spike shrugged, offering up no further opinion.
“She’s so much prettier like this don’t you think Twilight?” Fluttershy asked, her normal speaking volume having not needed adjusting.
“It is beautiful,” Twilight admitted. “It’s like a stained glass window actually.”
“It sends shivers up my spine when I think about what she might be doing,” Rarity complained, still resolute in her idea.
“I have an audience,” Chrysalis’s multi-layered voice said matter-of-factly, causing each pony and dragon’s heart to leap unexpectedly. The glow in her apertures faded slightly when she spoke, and vanished entirely when Chrysalis opened her eyes.
“Ssh!” Twilight tried to be as covert as possible as she tried to keep Chrysalis from alerting Inky Jay to her presence. “Change! Inky’s here!”
“Why?” Chrysalis asked, affronted. “Why is the brat still here when I can no longer feel Luna’s presence?”
“It’s me,” Twilight replied, sharing in the queen’s displeasure. “He’s here to make sure everypony understands how Aurora will go about performing her Latency procedure. Now, please change.”
“I will only acquiesce to residing in a lesser form for a little more time,” Chrysalis said pointedly, her voice shifting mid-sentence as she became the pale pink unicorn. “You and Luna have three days to convince Aurora to release my children by your methods. After that, if you still wish me to spare Rainbow Dash’s life, all of you will aid me in a forceful reclaiming.”
“If Princess Luna and I make no headway in three days,” Twilight said somewhat defeatedly, “force may the only thing left to all of us.” Chrysalis nodded, not moving from her place, instead turning her discerning gaze upon Fluttershy, who had been staring at her since she woke from the trance-like state. The shy pegasus quickly averted her own pupils with barely audible noises vaguely resembling an apology.
“You don’t have to apologize dear,” Rarity said to her reassuringly.
“So, which of you will ask the difficult question?” Chrysalis asked, her voice tinged with amusement.
“What is that supposed to mean?” Twilight asked genuinely as she levitated a box of crackers from the pantry and teleported a pen and quill from her room. She immediately began scribbling out the outline for all the points she wanted to make in her announcement. When nopony answered either Chrysalis or herself, Twilight glanced up to see awkward grimaces or indecision on Rarity and Fluttershy’s faces while Spike was simply frowning deeply.
Understanding struck her just as Spike asked the queen, “What the hay were you doing? You were all peaceful looking and this weird glowy light, magicky stuff was coming from all the—” His faces scrunched and his a claw pointed repetitively to her legs as he struggled to find the right word to describe her riddled appearance. “—holes,” he finished lamely.
“Do I not appear peaceful at any other time?” Chrysalis asked, for some reason more intrigued by this portion of Spike’s description than anything else.
“Not really dear,” Rarity replied almost subconsciously. “Most of the time, you look like me when I’m several weeks overdue for my date at the spa.”
“Not that it isn’t obvious why Chrysalis,” the queen muttered to herself, annoyed. “What you were seeing,” she addressed all of them, “was me feeding.”
“Well, I thought you looked very pretty,” Fluttershy said uncertainly while Rarity cringed as her suspicions were confirmed as true. Chrysalis appeared sincerely surprised at receiving Fluttershy’s compliment, almost like she had never been given one before, from pony, Changeling, or otherwise.
She was still curiously eyeing Fluttershy, a hint of a pleased smile on her face, when Spike asked, “But that doesn’t make sense. You’ve talked about feeding when I’ve been around, and it looked nothing like that.”
“Changelings can feed in two ways,” Chrysalis replied to the group at large. “The way you are talking about is just a common practice that is invisible most of the time. For Changelings, it is like a pony eating when he is hungry. And like for ponies, that love we consume will only last so long before we need more. Flying or using magic always requires more than what we consume like that.”
“So a Changeling could starve itself by performing lots and lots of magic?” Twilight asked, intrigued. She knew from experience more recent than was comfortable that magic took a toll on the caster’s body, but she had never realized it was so much more drastic for Changelings. “How do you do it then?”
“It’s rather simple to Changelings,” Chrysalis said, like she was sharing preschool knowledge. “The gaps in our limbs, manes, and tails are like magic vacuoles for love energy. What you just saw was me replenishing those reserves.”
“That’s amazing!” Twilight exclaimed gleefully. “So that’s why Changeling magic is so much stronger than unicorn magic! You have reserves that aren’t tied to your biological functions!”
“That’s the scientific way of saying it, yes,” Chrysalis answered, it clear she was confused as to why Twilight was acting so excited over common Changeling knowledge.
“I still think it was pretty,” Fluttershy said again, smiling when Chrysalis looked back at her with the same, almost bewildered look. “Has nopony ever said that before?”
“I...” Chrysalis started to say, unsure, “no.”
“As... disturbing as it is,” Rarity hesitantly agreed, “it does have a feeling of grace to it.”
“I still say it was weird,” Spike said flatly.
“You don’t have to look so surprised Chry—Morning Dew,” Twilight caught herself, though her words remained amused. “Most ponies don’t think Changelings are ugly. They’re just scared of them impersonating somepony they love.” Rarity winced slightly when Twilight mentioned Changelings not being ugly, but she said nothing and hid most of her face behind her mug of tea.
“Um... this is kind of awkward Morning, but I need a little favor,” Twilight said after a brief period of silence punctuated by the occasional crunching of a cracker.
“Yes?” Chrysalis asked almost amicably, the contrast in her mood from its usual brooding self as sharp as night and day.
“Normally I do all my own proofreading,” Twilight said, “but since this is a speech, would you mind looking over it?” She slid the notepad across the table, Chrysalis’s near-white hooves catching it before her magic grasped it and brought it before her face. It was not a long nor eloquent piece of writing, but for Twilight, Chrysalis seemed to take an unnecessarily long time going over it. The time dragging effect was only made worse by Twilight’s inability to see Chrysalis’s eyes moving across the page. When the queen finally did lower the notepad back to the table, she paused thoughtfully before answering.
“If you are trying to be an uninspiring and boring pony,” she said, “then this speech accomplishes that. I understand your desire to be objective, but surely you can do better than this.”
“So, it’s bad?” Twilight asked tentatively. She knew Chrysalis was being critical, but unlike Celestia, she was not pointing out the exact problems, leaving Twilight in a worse place than before.
“No,” Chrysalis replied, twisting her hoof on her transformed mane, “but you have no heart in it. You may want to allow every pony to make their own choice, but this speech makes you sound like her servant. You just sound like a messenger, rather than a pony empathizing with your audience.”
“And you would know all about empathy,” Spike said sarcastically.
“I would,” Chrysalis said, casting him a glare. “I would not have remained Queen for long if I did not.” To Twilight she elaborated, “The words are fine, but be sure to add your own opinion into your tone. If you don’t, the ponies of this town will think you to be on her side completely. That is something none of us want.”
Twilight nodded appreciatively, levitating the notepad back in front of her. The quill met parchment as she scribbled out a few words and replaced them with more distinct synonyms. “Thank you Morning,” she said sincerely.
“Anything to speed up the release of my children,” Chrysalis replied.
“Don’t worry, I’m sure Princess Luna will do her very best,” Twilight reassured her. “We’ll get them back.” Chrysalis nodded silently, but it was hollow; and for the first time, Twilight caught the depth of Chrysalis’s feelings for the safety of her brood. In that, Twilight could not help but compare her to Princess Celestia herself. And in that positive comparison she had never thought she would ever make, Twilight realized that letting down Chrysalis in this would leave her with as much regret and incurable guilt as though she had failed Princess Celestia when she needed her most. Despite how they had come together and despite Chrysalis’s perpetually vengeful attitude toward Rainbow Dash, Twilight could not deny it: she all but considered Chrysalis a friend. ______________________________________________________________________________
A litter rising with the clanking of manually turned cogs, a hall of wood cut directly from the Everfree Forest, and a low humming gently drifting through the air: these were the sensations Princess Luna felt as she and Spearhead were lifted into the gargantuan vessel of Aurora’s design. Luna had not expected anything different. Everything from the bareness of the halls, to the low level of light, and even to Aurora’s choice in design and spacing of those illuminating fixtures matched near perfectly with the look and feel of her lab when it had been within the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters. Aurora had constructed it all with precious attention to detail, far superior than those replicas sold by interior decorators and even more exact than replicas used for museum purposes.
Beside her, Luna felt Spearhead’s stance tighten with the heavy fall of the litter locking into the ship’s hull. “Spearhead,” she stated calmly, “settle thy thoughts. We wilt alert thee to a threat if we perceiveth one. ‘Til then, at ease.”
“I’m sorry Your Majesty,” her general replied, not sounding apologetic, “but my duty is to protect you, and I will do that in all places I feel you are not safe.”
“Then thou couldst at least relaxeth thy face,” Luna said.
“Duly noted Your Majesty,” Spearhead answered, his jaw becoming less rigid and his brows less furrowed. He still looked aggressively intimidating, but Luna took no more issue with his appearance. He was a Night Guard after all, and they had an even fiercer reputation than her sister’s protectors for a reason.
During their short conversation, the lights above the litter had begun humming with their magic, finally illuminating the entire hall. Just ahead of the litter, part of the wall was pushed outward and slid to the side, a Changeling emerging from within the hidden room. It’s shocking blue eyes surveyed them questioningly, the brows gradually dropping into a confused scowl. “Are you Queen Chrysalis” the Changeling asked, jerking Luna’s eyes wide. She spoke with the voice of a young, innocent filly: it was nothing like what Luna had expected. Then again, now that Luna eyed her more closely, the Changeling was definitely far smaller than those that had invaded Canterlot.
“No, We are afraid we art not Chrysalis young one,” Luna said to the creature softly, lowering her head and smiling like she remembered Celestia would when she was young. “We doth know her to be safe, though,” Luna continued. The Changeling’s face brightened, a toothy smile revealing one fang having grown in and one just beginning to show.
“Your Majesty, this could be a trick,” Spearhead cautioned, staying just behind Luna as the princess approached the Changeling child. Luna heard him, but her thoughts were beginning to fall into disarray at the sight of this Changeling filly. The instinctual part of her insisted she listen to Spearhead, stop edging closer to the foal. The Changelings were a greedy, manipulative breed, and they would not be above such trickery to garner love from a pony. But a different side of her, the side that had seen foals and felt when they were genuinely happy, was appalled. That side was appalled that Aurora had sunk so low as to take away this filly’s queen—Changeling or not—and had forced her into servitude. Her memories of Aurora struggled to reconcile this: there had to be a reason for it. Perhaps her control was blanketing and she could not distinguish between foal and adult pony, mare and stallion. But even then, if she had sent one lone Changeling to man the pulley system for the litter, she must have been able to see that said Changeling was only a filly.
“Your Majesty?” Spearhead asked, his tone worried. Luna snapped out of her reverie, glancing down to see she had taken a seat on the floor, the filly in her lap, and her hooves comfortingly running through the filly’s dirty snow mane.
Before Luna could respond, a low growl came from deep within the Changeling’s chest, followed by a furious voice not her own. “Get. Back. To. Quarters!” the filly spoke harshly. Luna struggled up in a moment of fright, dumping the Changeling unceremoniously onto the floor.
“What was that?” Luna asked Spearhead, her heart still beating faster than it had for some time. The stallion would have replied, but was stopped when the filly Changeling burst into sobbing wails and tears.
“Dang,” he swore.
“Hush, hush,” Luna did her best to console the filly. “We art sorry. Thou frightened us is all.” The filly said nothing, continuing to sob uncontrollably. Luna would have picked her up again had her attention not been diverted by uneven hoof steps coming from the spiral stairwell at the end of the hall. She lifted her head to its full height, curious as to the source of the sounds. Beside her, Spearhead groaned again, having tried to access his magic for the second time since coming into the dampening fields and now suffering from washing physical weakness. The clopping of hooves became steadily louder and more uneven, until they were stopped, replaced by the deep thudding of a pony falling down several steps. Aurora followed shortly thereafter, falling into the hall with a breathless wince. She struggled to lift herself up, but her legs refused to obey, shaking violently before collapsing. Her mane was as unkempt as always, but the flowing tail Luna remembered was also bedraggled. She lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs, eyes closed and breathing heavily, for a minute or so, in which time Luna scooped the crying Changeling filly with her wing. Nestled against Luna’s soft feathers, the filly quickly calmed into hiccupping.
When Aurora finally did stand back up, she stumbled dizzily from side to side, flaring out her wings to keep her balance. “Luna,” she said, not a note of weariness in her voice.
“Thou hast some explaining to do,” Luna glared at her old friend.
“Do I?” Aurora asked, taking stumbling steps toward Luna and Spearhead. “Inky Jay informed me of your desire to negotiate, but I would have thought Twilight Sparkle would have explained everything that has transpired thus far.”
“She did. But that is not what I meant exactly,” Luna replied, making a conscious effort to not use her traditional speech. Aurora had hated it, even in the times when it had been prevalent and even though she sounded quite cultured when using it. Though Luna herself felt uncomfortable using a less refined form of speaking, the need for Aurora’s cooperation was far more important. “This is a filly Aurora!” Luna said, not able to contain her vehemence. “Changeling or not, it is still a filly! What were you thinking?”
“A mistake perhaps,” Aurora said, inhaling with effort, “but not a serious one.”
“ ‘Not a serious one’?!” Luna repeated incredulously. “I didn’t want to see you again with accusations ready and waiting, but this is a filly!”
“So you keep saying,” Aurora said unconcernedly. “And yet you would not argue against me using the Changeling adults. It really is a shame to see you sucked into Celestia’s encompassing anarchy. Of all ponies, you used to understand my vision most.”
“And I still do Aurora,” Luna replied earnestly. “I see the need for change, and I think your Devices have the best potential to finally wipe away any remaining traces of tribal tension. But, but... When you are committing errors like putting a filly to work and being barely able to stand, I have to ask if you are going about this the right way.”
“My way is the only way,” Aurora said pointedly, “and before you accuse me of being egotistical, may I remind you that no other viable option has presented itself.”
“If you think you are able to walk,” Luna chose not to answer immediately, “would you mind leading us to a place where we may sit to discuss the situation.”
Aurora smiled, saying, “You always were clever about giving yourself time to think. No, my duties about the ship make it difficult to even speak with you, much less walk. No, instead, I will entrust you with taking us there.” Her eyes fluttered closed, her breathing becoming momentarily more frantic. In an instant, Aurora returned to normal, and Luna did not even have to ask what she had done. The void that had been denying her access to her magic had faded. “You are the only pony I can trust aside from Inky Jay,” Aurora said solemnly to Luna. “I judge by your actions thus far that you wish my return to Equestria to be as complete as I do, and thus, that you will refrain from capturing me. The room is on the third deck, with a round table surrounded by four brass and wood chairs.”
“Thank you Aurora,” Luna said, grateful that Aurora still held onto some of their friendship. “My servant and I will not betray your trust.”
“As Her Majesty commands me, so will I do,” Spearhead agreed gruffly. Luna’s horn sang as the aura around it coalesced, the bright light upon its tip being the last the three saw before reappearing in the exact room Aurora had indicated. They took their seats silently, the shaking in Aurora’s hooves making it more difficult for her.
“So Aurora,” Luna began, adjusting her wing when the Changeling filly shifted in her sleep, “I think it is important that we tackle the small things before we move onto the larger parts. That was always your philosophy yes?”
“Don’t try to turn my own words against me,” Aurora said good-naturedly, “but yes, your logic is sound.”
“This filly. Why?” Luna asked simply.
“The Devices allowing me to control all the Changelings aboard this ship are arranged in a rudimentary setup that would take several years to do properly,” Aurora explained. “The strain on my mind is why it is required you see me in such a deplorable state. Were I not occupied keeping them from surrounding me protectively, I would appear as my normal self. I picked a Changeling at random to bring you aboard. They are all supposed to be adult warriors, but that was obviously a lie.” She said the last words scathingly and Luna had to operate every last skill she had in dealing with nobles to not reveal she knew of the botched arrangement between Aurora and Chrysalis.
“So it was a mistake,” Luna said. “That is fine, I understand.”
“A mistake it may have been, but it was not mine,” Aurora corrected. “I will not take responsibility for the mistakes of the Changelings.”
“Well, now my mind is a little more at ease,” Luna replied neutrally. “Shall we move onto the actual negotiation?”
“Nothing is stopping you,” Aurora said tonelessly. “I already know my stance, and Celestia’s.”
“Twilight Sparkle asked you to reveal the Changelings and lower the defensive field,” Luna began. “I know you refused to lower the field and Spearhead and I understand your position on that. I will not pressure you there. However, Twilight Sparkle was kind enough to elaborate on why she made those demands.”
“I should have known,” Aurora scoffed. “She has inherited Celestia’s sense of superiority despite how well she hides it. I expressly stated she was not to reveal anything beyond Latency.”
“Aurora,” Luna spoke firmly, asserting that power that only a monarch’s voice could carry, “she could not help but explain about your Elements. No harm has been done, as you would have had to explain them to me in time if she had not. Besides, I want us to focus the negotiation around the completion of your Elements project.”
“How so?” Aurora asked cautiously.
“Twilight Sparkle has already agreed to spread the word about Latency,” Luna said. “At least a few ponies will come to you for the procedure, and once others see the results, they are bound to be clamoring for it. If you will reveal the Changelings then, ponies will be able to see that they are not monsters: that they helped you succeed in bringing Ascension to them. And, by showing the ponies the Changelings, Twilight Sparkle and the other bearers will assist in finishing your project.”
“You always were a joy to be around Luna, even when you were depressed,” Aurora chuckled at Luna’s earnestness. “I like that in you. It made you a better ruler, for your optimism meant that you would only see the true problems and not be caught up in the pointless debates of the royalty. I can see quite plainly that even if you do not agree wholeheartedly with my vision for reasons you may not even know, you see no harm in my continued work. You actually are interested in where it will take Equestrian society. Like I always did, I tip my horn to you for that.
“But you have yet to explain to me where your sister fits into all of this. She may have given you control of the negotiations, but what if she is dissatisfied with the arrangement? Aside from your word, what reason do I have to assume that she will not rush to clap my hooves in irons the first chance that opens to her.”
“Equestria is a diarchy, as it was before my Fall,” Luna replied. “My sister and I rule equally. There must be something fundamentally wrong with one of our decisions for the other to overrule her. One thousand years was long enough a sentence for me, the worst result of the experiment. Why should it not be for you?”
“Because, Luna, if anything, I have grown more in that which I was banished for,” Aurora said, impassioned. “Celestia feared me then, why should that not have increased now?” Luna was silent. Aurora was absolutely right. Celestia would need real proof: proof that Aurora was no longer a threat. Certainly flying a ship larger than most seafaring vessels over Ponyville and locking it away from the outside world was not something that would encourage Celestia to allow her freedom. But just as true was Aurora’s misperception of where Celestia’s fear lay.
“My sister is not afraid of you Aurora,” Luna said. “She is afraid that your ideas will spread anarchy. And I will admit, the thought frightens me as well. You want to freely gift everypony in Equestria the Ascension procedure and you want to break the tradition of the Elements of Harmony. Why would we not fear anarchy? If there were some way to regulate it all, I am sure my sister would not be averse to seeing your skills used to benefit Equestria.”
“Regulation is inequality’s way of masquerading as protection when it is in fact the killer,” Aurora said flatly. “The only way I would even consider the regulation of the spread of Devices and Ascension clinics would be if I were in complete control of the regulation.”
“As you are now,” Luna sighed.
“True, but I would not be unwilling to take your advice,” Aurora pointed out, putting just enough emphasis on ‘your’ for Luna to catch the meaning.
“You are not open to any other possibilities?” Luna asked, hoping against hope.
“Not any you would accept,” Aurora said plainly.
“It could work,” Luna pondered, a hoof tapping beneath the table. “It would mean creating a whole new department, but I do not see a scenario where we would not need to do such a thing anyway. Tia will have to be placated in other ways as well. The best way would be to restrict your study on certain spells.”
“If you refer to those pointlessly barbaric spells invented by sadistic warlords,” Aurora said with contempt, “then it is a promise I will not have any difficulty swearing.”
“That should do,” Luna agreed. “You should give me some more time to work out the details, but this looks as though things will work out.”
“Be careful about getting too far ahead of yourself Luna,” Aurora warned. “There is much that must precede any formal cooperation, and any number of these ignoramuses with sufficient sway may change things drastically. You may want to imagine your subjects as the epitome of harmony, but they are so far beneath it, many of them will actively seek to avoid it, as some have already.”
“Do not demean them Aurora,” Luna chastened her. “You were one of them once.”
“Yes, but unlike them, I rose,” Aurora retorted. “Unless pushed, they would be content to live their whole lives at a fraction of their potential.”
“And that is their choice,” Luna said, rather more forcefully than she meant. Old memories were welling up: memories of multiple arguments they had had over this very topic before Luna’s transformation. “It is of the greatest commendability that you would seek to help lift them up, but some simply do not want it.”
“So even after the war, your imprisonment on the moon and return among a new kind of society, you still hold the same view,” Aurora said, shaking her head in mild disbelief.
“Until we meet again then, on happier and more optimistic terms,” Luna said, standing from her chair, Spearhead following suit.
“Until then,” Aurora replied. “And Luna, it truly was good for me to see you again as I ought to have remembered you.”
“You should retire to a bed Aurora,” Luna said as she prepared to teleport from the ship directly into Twilight’s library. “Sleep would do you wonders.”
“I cannot,” Aurora said simply, “though there is something I can fall back upon during the procedures.”
“Keep strong,” Luna said, her magic flaring before winking her and Spearhead out of the vessel. Both of them had forgotten about a little Changeling nestled in Luna’s wing. ______________________________________________________________________________
“According to my understanding, the procedures will begin after one o’clock PM,” Inky’s voice scratched out to the crowd of Ponyvillians beneath the second level balcony of the Ponyville Library. “Lady Aurora and myself will organize all those wishing to participate, but be sure to be prompt in your arrival.” While Inky seemed purposefully oblivious to the predominantly scowling faces, Twilight both took notice of them and where they were not. It was odd, she considered, that those ponies approving and even eager for the prospect of Ascension were bundled together. Yet, they did not all find one another. Smaller, tight knit groups of ponies could be seen holding onto Inky’s ever word of instruction for how they were to conduct themselves before, during, and after the procedure. Those that had by now settled into their despisement of Aurora and all things associated with her, continuously cast furtive glances at her while Inky spoke.
She had done just as Chrysalis had instructed, altering inflection here, or changing her tone there, and she had thought she had done well. As could be seen now, ponies had become rather set in their opinions by the time Inky had begun to speak; and Twilight was not a little proud that most ponies felt as averse to the process as she did. In all, things were going according to plan, or at least according to half the plan. What was happening between Princess Luna and Aurora was an unknown factor, but Twilight trusted the Night Princess’s confidence and relationship with Aurora to meet with success.
“What’s with the Princess’s armies, huh!?” an enraged voice spouted from the crowd, followed murmurs of agreement. “The ‘Lady’ think she can stop our Princesses!? She think hidin’ behind a shield’s gonna do any good?! Bah! She can go to Tartarus!” His last statement was met not with simple mutterings of affirmation, but rather supportive outcries. Inwardly, Twilight was glad she had had the foresight to keep up her shield around the tree.
“I suppose it is a hint of a threat,” Inky replied, superiorly thoughtful. “Yes, yes, and of course, anypony may go to Tartarus if they so wish it.”
“You better be glad Twilight Sparkle’s protecting you colt!” a mare’s voice called out. “Otherwise I would give you a beating you wouldn’t ever forget!”
“I have said what I came here to say,” Inky said. “To continue a discourse with you rabble would be as futile as your resistance to this inevitable change.” Without a second glance back to the now rage bitten ponies, Inky silkily turned back into the library’s inside.
“Calm down everypony!” Twilight waved a hoof over the crowd, attempting to catch their attention. “Everypony, look this way!” It was useless. Having unleashed the monster that was the crowd’s divided emotions, Inky had rendered them all a mass of babbling noise. Twilight’s lone voice, no matter how assertive or elevated would do little to penetrate the cacophony building below her. With an aggravated sigh, she too turned back inside her home, snapping the window/door shut.
“You know, you may not like any of us, but you could at least try to use some tact,” Twilight chastised Inky, following him down onto the main floor.
“Speaking of me not ‘liking’ the lot of you makes me sound juvenile,” Inky replied. “Disapproval is a more apt description. And tact is just a beautified form of lying. I speak the truth, or I lie and I do not try to hide either behind some pathetic veneer.”
“Well, I don’t care what the hay it was you did. All I care about is the fact that you just caused a mob outside... again” Rainbow Dash said, aggravated as she hovered above the pair. “So just take your stinkin’ high an’ mighty attitude and leave.”
“Gladly,” Inky glowered at her before asking Twilight, “There is a back entrance to this library yes?”
“Duh,” Rainbow answered first, promptly throwing open a window.
“I’ll take it,” Inky said, to a surprised Rainbow and Twilight. “While I have no doubt that all of you would not mind in the slightest if I were attacked by the mob, I would prefer to depart in a manner that allowed me to keep my wings whole.”
“Hopefully we won’t have to see you again,” Rainbow Dash grumbled as she all but slammed the window shut after Inky’s tail had rocketed behind the rest of him into the Ponyville skies.
“Not if Aurora decides to set up her labs and facilities in Ponyville,” Twilight pointed out, doing her best not to sound pessimistic. “Which she probably will if Princess Luna can come to an agreement with her. We’re close enough to Canterlot that the Princesses can come and go, but far enough away that Aurora won’t have to deal with the royalty.”
“Thanks for busting my bubble Twi,” Rainbow replied flatly as Rarity, Spike, and Changeling-form Chrysalis emerged from the kitchen.
“But rubies are even more rare than diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds!” Rarity was protesting to Chrysalis.
“Maybe, but a gem that is both beautiful and numerous can actually be used and appreciated by more than just a few ponies or Changelings,” the queen rebutted.
“Rubies taste better than emeralds,” Spike inserted, siding with Rarity and speaking as if his opinion on a gem’s taste was the ultimate deciding factor.
“Only dragons think of their stomachs when they see a gem,” Chrysalis replied to him venomously. “A Changeling sees its true beauty.”
“I beg to differ!” Rarity exclaimed as if offended. “Ponies are truer judges of a gem’s quality.” And so the argument relapsed, both Changeling and pony taking seats at a reading table, Rarity floating a book down from a shelf to assist her in proving her side.
“They’ve been going at it like that since you and Inky went outside,” Spike said to Twilight, moaning as he slumped against the statue in the center of the room. “And they just keep saying the same things over and over again about different gems.”
“Ten bits says Cheese-legs has threatened to eat Rarity at least three times,” Rainbow guessed.
“Hoof over the bits,” Spike said happily, frowning upon realizing Rainbow did not have the bits at hoof. “She hasn’t even gotten angry. If you had closed your eyes in there, you would’ve thought there were two Rarity’s talking. Both of them were quoting gem cutters and miners and everything. It was ridiculous.”
“I didn’t think Chrysalis of all Changelings would be knowledgeable about gems,” Twilight said, now watching the two more curiously. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Hey Twilight, you have any other books by the mare who writes Daring Do?” Rainbow asked casually when Twilight, with nothing better to do while waiting for Princess Luna’s return, began doing her daily check to be sure all of the books were organized properly.
“Plume doesn’t write much outside of the series,” Twilight pondered, trotting lightly over to the fiction section, “but if I remember right—”
“TWILIGHT! CHRYSALIS!” Applejack’s voice hollered from above, a mix of horror and confusion in her voice. “GET UP HERE NOW!”
“IT IS URGENT, TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” boomed Luna in the Royal Canterlot Voice, shaking the sides of the library.
“The Princess is back!” Twilight started, not needing to even motion to every other pony to follow her hurried pace up the stairs. She burst into the upper room, which while officially supposed to be the guest bedroom, was more like Twilight’s extended catch-all closet. Twilight’s eyes scanned the room in one clean sweep, looking for anything that might warrant the apprehension in Applejack and Princess Luna’s voices. The room was still full of its usual clutter, though much of it had been shoved to the walls by Applejack and Fluttershy to make room for a checkers board in the middle of the floor. Those two self-same ponies were at opposite ends of the room. Applejack stood beside the Princess and Spearhead, both mares’ faces contorted in worried concentration. Spearhead was thinking as well, Twilight guessed, but his near perpetual state of grim determination was hard to read accurately.
All the same, the three were gazing pointedly at Fluttershy, who was lying on the floor animatedly playing peek-a-boo with... a Changeling. A Changeling filly. Everything became a jumbled mess for Twilight at the same moment for everypony else it seemed, save Spike who was still doing his best to jump up to see. She heard Rainbow shake her head vigorously, trying to be sure her eyes were not playing tricks on her. Rarity was only able to stutter with single syllables, vocalizing Twilight’s muddled thoughts.
Only Chrysalis took any action, and it was perhaps the most appropriate along with Fluttershy’s. “Out of the way!” she screamed, the desperation in her voice beyond that which Twilight had ever heard. The filly’s head snapped away from Fluttershy’s face with the first sound of Chrysalis’s voice, squealing in sheer delight upon seeing her. The filly stretched out her little forehooves, giggling gleefully as Chrysalis pulled her into a tight, one legged embrace. The queen sighed contentedly as the filly nuzzled her. The entire scene was heartwarming, more so than Twilight had thought Chrysalis would show a single one of her subjects. For Twilight in particular, she was reminded of how her mother— No, the odds of that were slim to none, and Chrysalis had never mentioned anything like that: not that she would have. But the more she thought about it, the way the filly was overjoyed to see Chrysalis, the near manic way Chrysalis had rushed to hold her. As far flung as the chances were, the facts were all pointing to one thing: Queen Chrysalis’s daughter had been brought into Twilight’s guest bedroom.
“H-h-how?” the queen stammered, turning to Luna with the filly still in her leg’s grip. “You could not have known. Even Aurora Streak did not know. Only two of my advisors were aware. And how did you sneak in here so easily?”
“We thinketh it good to answereth the simplest first,” Luna breathed heavily. “There is much to tell. Cometh inside all.” They settled themselves in the now cramped room, Spike attempting to say something about the Changeling filly before being silenced by an insisting glare from Twilight. “To answereth thy easiest question Chrysalis,” Luna began, “Aurora allowed us to teleport directly from there to here. She is severely weakened. We hath seen her in such a state before. It is a product of managing too many things at once. She needed our help to move to her place of negotiation.”
“Did everything go all right Princess?” Rarity asked, holding off her intrigue about the filly for the more important matter.
“Thou shouldst ask Spearhead, Miss Rarity,” Luna replied. “We believeth things to be moving apace as we wisheth, but we mighteth be somewhat biased, we wilt admit.”
Rarity inclined a questioning nod to Spearhead, the stallion grunting before saying, “She was willing to go along with our proposal. I’ve never in my entire career seen somepony like her with all the chips in hoof, and yet be willing to work with us. There’s just one problem.”
“You have not arranged for my people’s release,” Chrysalis growled, low and dangerously knowing.
“We were unable to bringeth it up directly,” Luna acquiesced, “but we hath hope that release wilt cometh to them when she hath no need of them. She wilt undoubtedly crave more passionate workers like Inky Jay. Besides, much of her weakness cometh from controlling them. She wilt rid herself of them in time, most assuredly.”
“Your Majesty,” Spearhead addressed Luna cautiously, “what you’re talking about is true, but it’s not what I was going to say.”
“Oh,” Luna said, surprised, “what else did thou notice?”
“In all my years as a military commander,” Spearhead replied, “I’ve never seen a foe so intent on hiding something. Now trust me, there’s not a shred of evidence in my favour. If anything, all the evidence is against me; but I’m trusting my gut here. There’s something she knows that she’s not telling us.”
“I do not require evidence to trust your instinct,” Chrysalis said cooly, levitating the now sleeping filly onto her back. “Aurora Streak will lie, back-stab, and subjugate to get what she wants.”
“Have you got any idea what she might be hiding?” Rainbow Dash asked.
“Her constructed Elements of Harmony,” Spreahead grunted promptly. “She was angry that Miss Sparkle told us about them; more so than I think she should have been given the circumstances. It’s my experience that when somepony doesn’t want many ponies knowing something, it means they don’t want too many minds thinking about it and possibly discovering a secret.”
“There is not exactly anything secret about the Elements, be they the original forms or her own,” Luna said, frowning.
“I agree with the Princess,” Twilight said. “Not that I doubt that Aurora is hiding something,” she rapidly affirmed after Chrysalis’s eyes narrowed in her direction. “I just don’t think the Elements are the source. I mean, she let me see them. If there were anything secret about them, I don’t think she would have so freely shown them to me.”
“Uh, we can’ really be speculatin’ none ‘bout this ‘til later,” Applejack put in, her glances having perpetually moved to the Changeling filly the entire time. “So wassup with this here filly Chrysalis? Don’ seem smart to me ta be bringin’ a filly ‘round on a mission like this.”
“You’re avoiding the real question filly,” Spearhead said blankly. “Why’d you bring your foal along, Queen?”
“Who said anything about the Changeling being the queen’s daughter?” Pinkie asked, her tone curious as to how everypony else seemed to have come to that conclusion.
“Pinkie dear,” Rarity said, “I would expect you of all ponies to be able to see the differences in the ways ponies act toward family, friends, and the like.”
“She was just happy and surprised,” Pinkie said plainly, or as plain as was possible for Pinkie. “I think everypony’s jumping to conclusions.”
Twilight was opening her mouth to explain her more reasoned approach for whatever good it would do when Chrysalis spoke up, snapping, “Don’t talk about me, my emotions, or Lacewing as if we were just objects.” Settling down somewhat at their guilty expressions, she continued. “But yes, Lacewing is my daughter, my third in fact. I reserve my right to explain no more. You should all just be content to know that by bringing her here, I feel more at ease than I have since stepping foot on Aurora’s cursed ship.”
“Meaning you aren’t so hay-bent on trying to kill me,” Rainbow said flatly. Everypony save Chrysalis and Rainbow herself winced as the two stared intently at one another for an uncomfortably long time.
A collective but silent (Pinkie Pie excluded) sigh of relief swept around the room when Chrysalis acquiesced, “Yes. But how did you find her Luna?”
“She had been charged with manning the crank system which allowed us and Spearhead into the vessel,” Luna replied. “She hath been treated as all others, rather than as a filly. We were appalled at Aurora and informed her of her error. However, she hath not seen any crime, and we feeleth unfortunately certain that her moral compass, as the say, hath degenerated even further than last we had spoken.”
“As if we needed somepony to tell us that...” Rainbow muttered.
“While we wouldst wish it otherwise and believeth strongly that we canst assureth peace, we canst only begin to imagine what Aurora Streak wouldst do shouldst she feeleth threatened,” Luna said gravely. “As things standeth, our plan for Ponyville’s freedom hath been accepted by Aurora. We only imploreth all here that thou doeth thy utmost to preserveth the delicate balance so far created.”
“Of course Princess,” Twilight inclined her head reverently with additional nods and murmurs of assent from her friends and Spike.
“Chrysalis?” Luna asked, unsure. “Thou and thy brood art as crucial to this resolution as any of us, perhaps even more so.”
“You have brought my daughter back to me,” Chrysalis answered, “and by your account, have saved her life.” Luna was about to protest that she implied nothing of the kind, but Chrysalis continued sharply, “By doing so, you have cleared the name of Rainbow Dash. A life for a life, though not in the way I had thought it would happen. My other subjects, however, are still imprisoned under Aurora’s false control, and it would be a disgrace to me both as a Changeling and as queen to abandon them.”
“Then we art settled and must hence alloweth time to taketh us where it willt,” Luna said. Everypony else nodded, a small span of awkward silence following before Applejack and Fluttershy resumed their game of checkers. Chrysalis took her leave with her still sound asleep daughter, Pinkie Pie following and whispering eager questions about Changeling foals. Twilight followed them out, hearing Chrysalis whisper back in response but not discerning what exactly she said. Twilight herself was joined by Rainbow, who again asked her for some other book by the famous Plume. Twilight did not respond at first, searching as she was for a reliable quill and ink and paper requested by Princess Luna. Oddly, she had asked for a quill good for both sketching and writing, straining the limits of Twilight’s extensive collection. “Oh, sorry Rainbow,” she said when the exact writing utensil she had in mind eluded her for longer than expected. “You should be able to find any of Plume’s other short stories next to the Daring Do books. I know you know where those are.”
“You said Plume was her name,” Rainbow asked.
“Mm-hm. Ah-ha!” Twilight replied before her exclamation at finding the quill. Rainbow lazily hovered over to the shelf while Twilight returned to the upper room. Princess Luna was gracefully thankful for Twilight having the correct items and set about recording something on the paper. Twilight thought about taking to some reading herself with Rainbow Dash, but instead settled for watching Fluttershy and Applejack’s checker game with Spearhead while Rarity ranted to a drowsy Spike about Chrysalis’s complete lack of understanding about the value of gems.
All accounted for, it was a measure of peace and relaxation like what Twilight experienced on weekend picnics with her friends. And yet, something about the atmosphere was inexplicably wrong. At first, she wanted to attribute the feeling of wrongness to the ship outside: the dull whine and subtle glow of the energy field. But the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced her unease was coming from something else. It was an alien sensation, one she could not trace back to any one source but that was just as potent. A shiver ran down her spine the more intensely she thought about it, and with that shiver came frightening revelation. She had felt it before, the day she had arrived in Ponyville. The day before Nightmare Moon’s return. It was undeniably that feeling of silence that precedes a momentous explosion of thunder. Twilight Sparkle shoved away her concentration on the aura, turning to that trust in the Princesses she always held onto when the calm before the storm became so plain.
There were names in the history books. In fact, many fillies and colts were under the impression that they were nothing but compilations of names: useless names most of the time. The majority of these names were of influential religious, political, or military leaders of one race or another. But on occasion, the fillies and colts would come across a name unconnected to anything grand. Ironically, these were names that often stuck with them. Almost assuredly, future foals in schoolrooms across Equestria would learn to remember the name Wood Ring: simple Earth pony carpenter from Ponyville: no family, no goals, no fame, and the first pony of the modern day to Ascend via Aurora Streak’s constructs.
He was, at present, still quite the sensation in Ponyville. Where other carpenters had to rely on instruments and their own experience-driven guesswork to accurately determine dimensions, Wood Ring’s eyes alone could do just as, if not better, measurement. Even if nopony ordered anything from him, his shop was constantly busy with spectators watching as he cut perfect circles without a single compass or pencil in sight. Of course, the other carpenters still had their patrons: those who despised Aurora and all things associated with her with true passion. These were, however, the small minority, many of the ponies who had previously decried Aurora unable to keep from admiring Wood Ring and imagining how they themselves might have such ability.
Twilight Sparkle and the rest had steered well clear of the commotion Aurora’s procedures were causing per the advice of Chrysalis. She explained that Aurora no doubt thought them all meddlesome, and that for her spirit to be as positive as was possible, it would be best if she heard or caught sight of them as little as possible. All the same, it was becoming more and more difficult for Twilight to completely avoid newly Ascended ponies. The library was still open (Princess Luna, Chrysalis, and Spearhead having taken up residence in the upper rooms), and ponies invariably came in and conversation broke out about Ascendence. More than once, Twilight had to ask for the more heated debates to be taken outside; along with having to develop increasingly cryptic and vague answers to hide her own, more informed, opinion on the subject.
The continuous residence of the Armies of the Sun and Moon was also a near perpetual topic. The opinions expressed in such conversations were nearly as diverse as those surrounding Ascendence, though they thankfully never erupted into full-blown shouting matches. Well, they never did so in the library at any rate. From what Twilight gathered from what her friends would tell her when dropping by, the town no longer had any opinion on the appearance of the Armies themselves. Rather, they were curious and not a little hurt that neither Princess Luna nor Princess Celestia had revealed themselves. Many of the younger ponies could be heard talking in the streets that, “If only this dang magic field weren’t there and we could see one of the Princesses, life would be bucking near perfect.”
Comfort in the tremulous atmosphere, Twilight found, was to be had in those ponies who knew just as much of the truth as she did. And they need not even talk about the issue itself. Just being with each other was enough. Pinkie Pie and Fluttershy were over many times during the day, interested in playing with and helping care for the Princess Lacewing—who, being around two years younger than CMC, had all of their energy and none of their inhibition. Chrysalis was, as per the circumstances, an outstanding mother, but Twilight always appreciated it when either Pinkie or Fluttershy were present, being that she did not have to constantly be sure the filly was not innocently attempting to topple a bookshelf or perpetuate some other library disaster.
Rainbow Dash, Spearhead, and Chrysalis would form an eclectic group at times, gathering upstairs to discuss war history: Chrysalis and Spearhead were veritable experts on the subject for obvious reasons while Rainbow Dash knew a surprising amount for her following of some the strict, ancient workout regimens designed for pegasi knights of a bygone era. Rarity was keen to speak to Princess Luna on all the goings on of the Canterlot high society, and the Princess entreated her for lack of anypony else to talk to who shared something even close to her elevated way of speaking. Applejack also engaged the Princess in discussion once, but it was only to confirm that the soldier ponies would not practically ruin her family’s farm for need of fresh food. She was remarkably calm about her family’s situation, telling Twilight once when she thought Applejack was down due to homesickness that she was happy they did not have to deal with this and that she was confident in Big Mac’s ability to care for Granny Smith and the farm. Luna promptly assured her that even if soldiers were an uncouth lot, they would not dare do something of the sort, especially considering that Applejack was closer than most politicians to herself and Celestia.
In effect, everypony who had been forced to shoulder the burden of ensuring the peace and safety of Equestria settled into a routine for a solid week, all the while waiting for Aurora to announce her accompaniment of Changelings. Indeed, Twilight never thought she would ever want to see Inky Jay. All the same, as the days dragged on, Twilight began to feel a well of anticipation whenever the door to the library was tapped and felt an equal amount of disappoint when Aurora’s scribe was not the pony at the door. Inevitably, she would scold herself when she remembered exactly the type of pony Inky was, but she could not erase the hope his appearance would represent.
Her conflicting emotions about seeing the foreign pegasus, were consequently all a completely jumbled mess when, on Saturday morning, before she had even finished breakfast, properly brushed her mane, and done all those other things that made her presentable to the public; an incessant series of knocks rattled the door to the library. “This can’t be good,” she muttered to herself, Spike nodding in agreement, though he himself still appearing as though his mind was still back in his comfortable basket. She rubbed her eyes, realizing with a sigh it would have only made them red and sleep-deprived looking; and brushed her mane rather half-heartedly before trotting lightly down the stairs. Just before she opened the door, it was pounded upon impatiently again. Waiting until it stopped, Twilight then cracked the entrance open, the sliver of light that should have streamed in blocked by the form of a pony. She opened the door wider to reveal Inky Jay. “Inky Jay?” she queried, a moment later realizing how stupid she had sounded.
“Last I checked,” he replied, “nopony else was capable of being me, so that should lead one to assume that the pony outside your door is Inky Jay.”
“Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine in the morning,” Twilight muttered, walking back into the library and leaving the door open for Inky.
“I am sincerely hoping your sarcasm is due to that being an idiomatic expression of some kind,” Inky replied stiffly, following Twilight inside and snapping the door shut with a flick of his wing.
“It means you’re grumpy,” Twilight said
“Ah,” Inky answered with a distant note to his grated voice. “I find it incredibly amusing that you think I would stoop to such a meaningless emotional state. However, to see you affected in such a way does not surprise me at all.”
“I am not grumpy,” Twilight insisted, the lie flying through her gritted teeth.
“You again see a simple observation on my part as an insult,” Inky said, pointedly ignoring her while he gazed at the spines of books, head cocked to the side to read their titles. “I certainly do not blame you for your current emotional state. Unlike so many of the pointless emotions ponies here allow to drag them along like toys, not being a morning pony is rather unavoidable.”
“I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Twilight said, her early morning dose of irritability not quite alleviated. “And it’s too early for me to try to listen to you talk.”
“In that case,” Inky replied, “I will wait here and read. For such a ignorant town, there certainly are a nice array of books in this library.” Twilight chose not to reply for her mood and sanity’s sake, climbing back up the stairs and settling down to finish her breakfast. Why had she ever been excited to hear from him? Even after the several interactions she had had with Inky Jay, there seemed to simply be no way to mentally prepare herself for the critical manner in which he spoke about the things that he found to be beneath him. She hoped beyond hope that he might become a more pleasant pony with which to have a conversation once the negotiations were finalized and Aurora could legitimately begin her work, but her more analytic mind told her that, if anything, he was liable to become worse with Aurora rising to a position of prominence.
“Who was it Twilight?” Spike asked, rinsing out his own cereal bowl. “You look more tired now than you did when you woke me up.”
“Inky’s here,” Twilight said, finding even Spike’s voice refreshing after the pegasus’s tones. “He probably has word from Aurora about revealing the Changelings. Could you go and wake up the Princess while I finish? She’ll want to hear whatever he has to say, regardless of what it’s about.”
“Sure thing Twilight,” Spike answered, resting his now clean bowl in the drain board. “Is he still in the lobby?”
“Mm-hm,” Twilight nodded, her face behind an apple juice glass. Why Spike had cared about his information she did not know, but he showed no signs of acting upon it, for he began his small, circular assent to the upper rooms without even a glance downstairs. Twilight finished her rounded morning meal before he returned, and was greeted to a dreary ‘Good morning’ from Princess Luna just as her bowl, plate, and glass joined Spike’s in the drain board. Luna sounded and appeared more haggard than Twilight in both categories. Her mane even flowed more slowly, as if it too were groggy.
“Did the moon give you some trouble last night Princess?” Twilight asked.
“Hardly Twilight Sparkle,” Luna replied heavily. “It is just that we had only recently descended into our true rest before being awoken by Spike.”
“You know I wouldn’t have asked him to wake you if it weren’t really important right?” Twilight asked.
“Of course Twilight Sparkle,” Luna reassured her, though her voice carried much less of its usual solidity. “He hath already taken the liberty of explaining the reason for us having to waketh at this hour.”
“We should go down then and see him,” Twilight gestured. “The sooner we know what Aurora sent him for, the sooner you can get back to sleep.”
“We thank thee for thy consideration of our natural fatigue,” Luna replied, “but we must look fully alert, which meaneth we wilt have to become tired over again later.” Without any further explanation, she crossed the kitchen in two strides, opened up the tap and rather unceremoniously splashed her face under the ice-cold water. She sputtered and spat, taking in sharp breaths of sudden wakefulness as, with the utmost grace, she dabbed her face dry with a kitchen towel. “We art awake fully now Twilight Sparkle,” she said with her usual vigor and grace. “Shall we now proceed to learn that which Aurora’s scribe hath brought?”
“After you Princess,” Twilight motioned with a hoof and giggling. She was now fully awake as well and her morning mood was fading rapidly, having finished her breakfast and seen Luna do the last thing she had expected of a Princess of Equestria. She chuckled again to herself as memories of a similar event from her past as a filly before Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. The details were still hazy as she had been so young, but it had involved Shining Armor coming home late, her father being the angriest she had ever seen him, and something about hard cider. She resolved to ask her brother about it after the field came down. He would be among the troops outside no doubt.
By this time, she and the Night Princess had reached the lobby where Inky was acknowledging Luna with his equivalent of a bow: a brief incline of his head, eyes shuttered. “Inky Jay,” Luna said in response, nodding her head. “How goeth thy week and Aurora’s? We have not heard anything from thee. We assume the procedures to be proceeding apace.”
“Things are moving along as well as could be hoped, though the more ponies we have receiving the treatment, the more ridiculously stupid they become in their requests,” he said, his contempt rising at the end. “Some requested the impossible and were barely old enough to even deserve cutie marks. Thankfully we have been able to convince them of the true scope of the procedure and the more childish requests have been dying away. Early this morning, Lady Aurora was in high spirits that the fad-like nature of the procedure will die here and that the remainder of Equestria will accept the procedure with the level of respect it deserves.”
“Well, we art pleased that there hath been no complications and that Aurora is pleased with the results,” Luna replied, gracefully glazing over Inky’s insults as if she had never heard them. Twilight admired her for it. “We assume thou hast come to inform us all that Aurora intendeth to make her proclamation of Changeling assistance today.”
“Lady Aurora feels the time is right to do it before noon today,” Inky confirmed for her. “Changelings build up more energy as the day wears on, making them more active in the later hours. In the morning, they appear more docile and their low energy reserves mean Lady Aurora can control them more easily.”
“She wants me there with her for support,” Twilight guessed with less than an enthusiastic tone.
Inky nodded briskly, saying, “Yes. You and the rest of the Bearers. I have already delivered the request to each of them. That said, I do not feel the need to ask you in any formal way.” Turning his attention once again to Princess Luna, he said, “What Lady Aurora asks of you, Princess Luna, is to remain hidden. Your revealing yourself would only reignite the flames success has managed to douse.”
“We have known as much,” Luna replied, mildly irritated that her intelligence had been so slighted. “It wast our intention from the beginning to remain inconspicuous and to never allow Ponyville to know of our involvement. We have fought many battles of every kind, and we therefore do not require instruction as to how to manage our actions in this delicate situation.”
“Lady Aurora stands to lose the most by the failure of these plans you have suggested,” Inky replied, not with defiant force, but certainly without humble submission, “and she will take all of the necessary precautions to be sure she does not lose.”
“Be that as it may,” the Night Princess answered, “but we warn thee, shouldst thou ever speaketh to us again as though we were thy equal, we wilt not hesitate to show thee the error of thy ways.” Luna left the exact details vague, which for Twilight Sparkle only increased the power of the threat. As such, she had expected Inky’s face to be smirking in amusement with some witty quip ready at his lips. Instead, he was examining Luna as if a colored lens had been passed over his green eyes: like he was seeing her in a completely new way and was attempting to discern what exactly it revealed about her.
“You confuse me,” he said, his tone deliberate but curious. “How can you and Lady Aurora be so close as friends, and yet be so idealistically opposed?”
Twilight’s face brightened, and before Luna could answer, she asked, “Princess, may I?” It took Luna a moment, but her eyes widened along with a knowing smile when the realization came to her.
“Thou art most suited to the task, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said. “We should have thought of it before.”
“You don’t have to be the exact same as somepony else to be their friend,” Twilight said, forcing down her tendency to sound as though she were reciting facts when relating the contents of a former friendship letter. “That’s part of what makes friendship so exciting. You meet new ponies who are different from you, and maybe you can learn something from the way they see things.”
“Without opposites there can be no advancement,” Inky said blankly, quoting a famous author of times past. “Yes, I am fully aware of the principle, but in my case, I would learn all I could from a pony with views opposed to mine, and promptly move along.”
“One needeth not to agree with a pony’s worldview to enjoy their company,” Luna said pointedly.
“That has not been my experience,” Inky replied shortly. “All that aside, Lady Aurora will be expecting you within an hour.”
“Surely she doesn’t think anypony will... Oh, well that’s clever,” Twilight began, only to halt herself.
“Precisely,” Inky smiled mischievously. “Lady Aurora has observed that the ponies of this town take her news best from one another. As limited as it reveals their mindset to be, her mere person colors their opinion of her voice and in this event, there must be as little of that as possible.”
“It is indeed clever,” Luna agreed, “despite her hate of political maneuvering.”
“As long as you have no more questions regarding your appearance beneath the ship, not that you should,” Inky said, “then I will be on my way. After the fiasco with the Changeling filly, Lady Aurora has tasked me with a census to be sure of a proper count. Oh, and I suppose now would be as good a time as any to give you these Twilight Sparkle.” Inky Jay twisted his head round, and the the unique snap of a clasp being undone met princess and unicorn ears. Turning back to the pair, Inky had in his mouth a set of papers, which just from a glance, appeared to be official documentation of some kind. With a jolting nod of his head, Inky indicated Twilight was to take them. Once out his mouth and levitated before Twilight’s scanning eyes, Inky said, “Those are copies of my notes on the Ascension process. Lady Aurora assumed the Royal Archives might have an incomplete set from the past, and felt it meet to correct and complete them.”
“Thank her for me!” Twilight said, stunned: both by the gesture and the detailed magic science her brain was processing. It was an incredible gift, and one she was eager to absorb.
“What spurred her to this decision?” Luna asked, skeptical.
“Of what she told me, nothing more than I have already relayed,” Inky replied. “Though I privately believe her to not have given away anything of great revelation. Ascension was a known phenomena before her experiments into the subject, and her manipulation of it is not something I describe in that set of notes.”
“Still!” Twilight said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve read a theoretical magic science piece, and I’m sure her opinions of certain kinds of magic will be very interesting to read.”
“At least somepony will enjoy it for its own sake then,” Inky replied. “Remember, one hour.” With that rather threatening reminder, Inky saw himself out of the library.
There followed a brief moment of silence between Twilight and the princess, though Twilight herself barely noticed it. She was too busy going back to the cover of the notes and beginning to read them properly. “Burn those notes Twilight Sparkle,” came a sudden, harsh command from Luna.
“Princess?” she looked up to her and asked, shocked that Luna would demand such a thing without any explanation.
The princess’s scowl deepened as she said, “Twilight Sparkle, we have seen these notes of which Inky Jay speaketh. Even in their partial form and with the hoof of a different scribe, they art not for the eyes of normal ponykind.”
“Why?” Twilight asked genuinely becoming worried at Luna’s vague description.
“The theories contained therein do not deal solely with Ascension,” Luna replied. “They art of Cutie Mark Magic as a whole, and therefore wander into territory they oughteth not ever go.”
“Princess?” Twilight asked again, this time wary. Luna was not acting like herself. She was angry to be sure, but there was fear in her eyes, fear in the words.
“Perhaps when thou art older,” Luna consented with a sigh. “We think our sister wilt reveal the things therein to you in time, and we wouldst ask that thou respect her in this.”
“Can you at least tell me what scares you about what’s in here?” Twilight asked, hoping she had softened her tone enough.
“It couldst turn all of ponykind against ourself, our sister, and Cadance,” Luna admitted with a hung head. “And not without reason, we must not deny.”
“If I burn these now,” Twilight said, her inner self struggling with the decision even as she spoke, “will you promise to tell me about what they said once this whole mess is sorted out?”
“To thee alone, Twilight Sparkle. To thee alone,” Luna acquiesced. Shuttering her eyes tight to avoid her better sense rebelling against what she was about to do, Twilight ignited a flame spell over the collection of notes. The fire flared a brilliant orange and lavender, but rather than singe the edges black until the whole stack was nothing but ash, the fire merely curled around it as if it were not even there.
Luna swore vehemently, and in Twilight’s shock at hearing such vulgarity from the princess’s mouth, she snatched the documents away and lit them with her own spell. Still they remained untouched. “She trieth my kindness with this,” Luna growled, dousing the flames. “We wilt still tell thee Twilight Sparkle, but only once we hath taken this up with Aurora directly.” Without waiting for a reply, Luna ascended back up the stairs to her room, muttering fiercely to herself all the way. _____________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow Dash was, to no surprise of her own, the first of her close friends to arrive outside Town Hall. However, she was intrigued that she was not the first pony to be waiting for Aurora’s announcement. Several ponies, oddly of all ages but many with helpful steaming mugs of coffee, were already gathered in the darkest shadows of the alicorn mare’s vessel. They milled about, exchanging trivial news and small-talk, and all seemed completely at ease. Rainbow was on the verge of asking a group of stallions slightly older than herself what they were discussing when one of them turned in her direction abruptly and asked, “So Dash, where did you get your Ascension put?”
“What?” Rainbow replied instinctively before realizing he was talking about Aurora’s procedure. “Oh, I didn’t need it,” she said. “I’m already Ascended.”
“Sweet!” one of the other stallions, a unicorn, said enthusiastically. “How does yours work?”
“Uh...” Rainbow dodged for time, not wanting to reveal her connection to an Element of Harmony.
“Come on Roller,” another of the group said to the eager one with a solid whack on the back of Roller’s head. “You’re talkin’ to Rainbow Dash. She can pull off the Sonic Rainboom. You really have to ask the question?”
“Nah, it’s cool,” Rainbow said smoothly, secretly glad she had escaped something that could have easily wandered to awkward places. “So you all had it done?”
“Sure as the Princess’s are outside the field,” Roller’s head-whacking companion replied. “And the weirdest part is that you don’t feel any different after it’s done.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Roller said. “I mean, it felt so surreal using a shattering spell like I had a talent for it when I’d been studying and failing at one for six years.”
“I’ll give Roller that one,” the first stallion agreed. “But Dash, why’re you here? I mean, no offense, but we all thought only us ponies that went through with the procedure were visited by that little upstart of a scribe.”
Rainbow snorted, amused that she was not the only pony to think of Inky as an idiot, before answering, “You guys know my friend Twilight?” Collective nods greeted her question. “Well, my friends and I figured we’d all come to support her with whatever Aurora’s gonna have Twi do.”
“Sounds cool Dash,” Roller said. “Got any idea what she might say?” Not being a consistent liar by nature, Rainbow knew she would not be able to spin a satisfactorily false idea, but neither would she be able to simply say ‘no’ without something in her face being suspicious. Her mouth thus opened and closed without words several times, the stallions curiously anticipating her opinion, when Twilight rescued her.
“Hey Rainbow!” Twilight said, thankfully knocking everypony’s attention onto her. She said nothing else, but Rainbow knew Twilight’s voice, and it was entirely too happy under the circumstances. Something else, it seemed, had unsettled her beyond the stress of waiting for Aurora’s revelation of the Changelings.
“Hey Twi, what’s goin on?” Rainbow turned and greeted her friend, adding a serious wink only Twilight could see.
“Funny you should ask,” Twilight replied, again in that falsely cheery voice. “Could I talk to you in private?”
“Sure,” Rainbow said without hesitation. “See ya later guys,” she added, waving to the stallions. Once well out of earshot of anypony milling about, Rainbow hissed, “What’s goin’ down?”
“Aurora is pushing things too hard,” Twilight replied gravely. “She had Inky deliver me a set of notes but Princess Luna said it would be in my best interests not to read them. The way Luna talked about it, it sounded like Aurora might have some sort of dirt on the princesses that would turn quite a few ponies against them.”
“And you?” Rainbow asked.
“I think it’s something historic: something that Aurora may have accidently discovered that had been buried in the past,” Twilight said. “Regardless, Aurora’s pushing Princess Luna’s patience, and whether she’s doing it on purpose or not, we need to finish up the negotiations. Fast.”
“So Aurora’s already getting tired of playing fair,” Rainbow mused, disgusted. “Figures right? But I’m with ya. The sooner we can get in and help her finish her dang experiment, the better.”
“Just let me do the talking,” Twilight said. “If we’re lucky and things go right this morning, I may be able to get us inside this afternoon.”
“That’s a little optimistic don’t you think?” Rainbow countered.
“Optimism is the only thing that’s kept me going this long Rainbow,” Twilight sighed.
“Okay, it’s your show,” Rainbow sided with her, “but you know I’m there if you ever need anything done faster than anypony else.”
“Thanks Rainbow, and yes I know,” Twilight smiled at her. “I will say this. Whatever you do, don’t mention the notes. Let Aurora think she’s getting what she wants.”
“What notes?” Rainbow said in confusion. Twilight only nodded appreciatively as they moved back into the crowd, which had grown by at least two dozen more ponies. The pair met up with the rest of their friends, Pinkie Pie corroborating Rainbow’s own findings that each and every one of the ponies present had had the Ascension procedure successfully performed. Aurora was certainly playing her odds well in Rainbow’s opinion, though she still thought the reaction of the ponies to having had Changelings in their midst ever since Aurora’s arrival would not go over at all smoothly.
A resounding clang from above ceased the conversations of everypony present and jolted their attention to the ship above. In the hushed silence, the morning breeze seemed to gain prominence in the senses: the peaking sunlight yet to provide warmth now visibly moving above the horizon by Celestia’s power. In this moment of purity in the air, Rainbow’s senses felt more than ever before how profoundly wrong the powers of Aurora’s ship and the sounds it emitted were. These thoughts had no chance, however, to fully blossom, for the lift in the House of a Thousand Fangs began its descent.
Aurora stood upon it, and just as Princess Luna had described, she appeared far more haggard than Rainbow remembered. True, she was not stumbling or shaking from exhaustion, but her general countenance was of a mare long in need of proper rest continually denied her. In fact, she reminded Rainbow of the way she herself had looked as an adolescent when she trained, worked, and tried to stay in school all at the same time.
The lift cracked with finality upon the hard dirt road, and Aurora strode off it in many smaller strides rather than the longer steps of a superior from before. However physically and probably mentally depleted she was, Aurora retained her superior indifference to the ponies watching her ascend the steps to the Town Hall’s porch. Only when she had turned to face the ponies watching and waiting for her and had gazed at them all for a few brief moments did her coldness thaw ever so slightly. She smiled genuinely out at them all (which surprised not a few of the ponies including Rainbow) and began, “Brothers and sisters in vision,” her elegance in speech having not deserted her either. “You have all elected to follow the path of your magical evolution. You have all seen the world which might be created through the equality I promise. But, I ask you, and ask you to search for the answer deep within yourselves, what superior society can come of this equality if it does not practice it beyond its own borders? What hypocrites we would be then, if in our magical extension we looked down upon non-ponies in the same vicious and abhorrent way so many ponies look down upon their brethren!”
She paused, and in the gap, ponies murmured to themselves with the words ‘griffons’ and ‘dragons’ heard clearly on more than one occasion. “And truly, would anypony be worthy to carry a superior magical mantle if he could not extend basic respect to others outside his society? Indeed, why bother with seeking magical superiority within oneself when one can so easily find within one racial superiority?” Aurora stopped again, and the ringing mutterings in the crowd were now more intrigued and thoughtful than they had been at the first.
“If you cannot therefore overcome this, I will have firstly made a grave mistake in allowing you to attain Ascension, and second, I will, until you can see your own ignorance, treat you as the uninspired dregs of indoctrinated society that you are.” With this final statement, Aurora opened her wings to their full length and the bright hissing of building spells could be heard from above. In the next moment, brilliant and forceful cascades of shimmering light descended from the ship’s undersides; winking out of existence only a hoof-ful of seconds later with an electric pop. In the place of of the beams of light stood seven groups of five Changelings.
A sizeable portion of the crowd let out desperate screams of terror, hate, and general shock. Bellowed stuttering was soon to follow among these same ponies, but Rainbow let out a relieved sigh when the majority of the ponies gathered either did not react or exercised extreme self-control to not let their true emotions show. In fact, as she eyed the many faces surrounding her, Rainbow began to suspect that only she and her friends were completely unaffected by the appearance of the Changelings: for even among those that held straight faces, said faces were strained in supreme effort to remain static.
Rainbow herself avoided looking at the Changelings directly. Despite Chrysalis having effectively accepted Luna’s return of Lacewing as payment for the death of one of her warriors, it did nothing to help Rainbow’s own conscience. Chrysalis had forgiven her to be sure (no thanks in part to Princess Luna and Aurora’s error), but Rainbow had always been certain that would come about through her own actions. As it stood, atonement had been made, but she had not been the pony to make said atonement. There was always a feeling in the back of her mind—often coming to the forefront whenever Lacewing was present—that she was duty bound to gain Chrysalis’s forgiveness through her own actions. And from this lingering guilt Rainbow could see the face of her unintentional victim in the face of each of the Changelings she laid eyes upon. Battle glory is so overrated, she thought, forcing down a small wave of nausea.
“I am, I must admit, impressed,” Aurora said presently. “I can see in your ungainly expressions that you fight to resist your revulsion of these creatures, and so you reveal that first, your bigotry still exists, but second, that you are not beyond healing.” The crowd of ponies was silent in the interim, all once having overcome their initial shock at having Changelings teleported directly before them, were scrutinizing the pony-like beings. Rainbow could understand their interest—many had probably only heard stories and seen pictures of the Changeling invasion and those few that had actually been present in Canterlot would likely only recall the Changelings as a mass of efficient marauders. To see them behaving in so docile a manner was surely intriguing to them.
“Come forward Twilight Sparkle,” Aurora commanded. Twilight did so, the attention of the ponies shifting to her.
“I’m sure you are all wondering why I’m the one talking to you,” she said without prompt from Aurora. “Well, the truth is that I’ve known about Aurora’s Changelings for a while now.” Her admission sent ripples of distrustful muttering through the ponies. “But Aurora asked me to not say anything so your fear of them wouldn’t taint how you thought of her ideas. But now, I think it’s important to tell you that the Changelings with Aurora now helped her during her experiments that gave you Ascension.”
“Are you saying we should just forget what they tried to do to the Princess during the wedding?” a pony asked from within the gathered. He was not outraged, but his point was measured and legitimate.
“Hardly,” Aurora stepped in forcefully, “but understand this. These Changelings are not tied to the monarch that invaded Celestia’s capital. Should Equestria invade the Zebra Kingdoms, they would surely never forget such an affront, but afterward were Celestia to be deposed, their despisement of Equestria would diminish, if not vanish entirely.” Rainbow felt her teeth grinding against each other and her eyes narrowing with a scowl on her forehead. To hide something and dodge questions about it was one thing, but to lie blatantly was entirely different. Of course, technically, the Changelings were no longer connected to Chrysalis, but that still did not absolve Aurora of pretending that Chrysalis was not involved with them even remotely. Rainbow could see Twilight felt just as uncomfortable.
“Remember,” Aurora continued, “my goal is to bring equality and illumination to Equestria, and such things are not selective. Think on all that I have said and chosen to do, and decide now whether you will all wish to continue to be my followers, for I would rather have all of you hate me utterly for this than become my adherents and yet be tainted by small doubts that can only grow larger.” With that final statement, Aurora fluttered her wings again, this time to merely settle them back into place. She stepped off the Town Hall porch and onto her litter in the exact manner in which she had done the reverse. The Changelings were returned to the folds of the ship in the same moment the mare’s platform began to click in its rising. With the shiny black shape-shifters gone from her visibility, Rainbow’s memory inexplicably began to reassemble what she remembered of them from her periphery. It took only a few moments of reflection—the ponies about her breaking up into small groups and chatting—for her to understand just how cruel and unnatural Aurora’s control over the Changelings was. Each of them had drooped as if lacking in any drive, their eyes rather than being a fierce blue were almost faded, and not one had stirred with the natural movements of a small itch or other trivial distraction. They were undoubtedly utter slaves to Aurora’s technology, though judging by the mare herself, Rainbow allowed herself a smirk knowing that she was worse for it.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Fluttershy and Rarity found her, Fluttershy oddly being the first to speak. “Oh Rainbow Dash!” she exclaimed, though in her usual restrained way. “Did you see them all, the poor Changelings?”
“I tried not to look at them too much if you get my drift,” Rainbow admitted, “but, yeah, I know what you mean.”
“It’s barbaric what she is doing to them!” Rarity let out a whispered hiss. “And we are supposed to help her finish an experiment?! If it wasn’t for the sake of all those poor dears inside her ship and Ponyville at large, I would refuse right this moment!”
“And did ya’ll see ‘er lyin’ through ‘er teeth like tha’?” Applejack joined them, not bothering to keep her voice as low as the rest. “Surely she don’ thank she c’n get away with it?”
“Applejack, she really shouldn’t have been able to get away with any of the stuff she’s done,” Rainbow said with heavy sarcasm.
“Touché,” Applejack conceded.
“She’s just a big meanie pants, that’s all,” Pinkie came up behind Applejack. “And the sooner we get big meanie pants out of here, the happier everypony will be.”
“Looks like Twi’s havin’ a good ol’ time,” Applejack said, turning their attention to where Twilight was surrounded by the more vocal ponies. They were pelting her with questions like rebellious young colts would throw stones at one another, but she was absorbing and deflecting them all with simple calm and composure of the kind that only Princess Celestia could impart. Moving in her direction with the rest of her friends, Rainbow caught snippets of the conversations of the smaller clusters of ponies. The general sentiment was, mercifully, not fear, but confusion. The ponies were pleased that Aurora had control over the Changelings (they even having noticed the odd behavior exhibited by the creatures), but they still felt, and rightfully so, that the utmost caution was to be taken. Aurora had done good things for Ponyville, but she had also taken considerably large steps into the gray. For most of the ponies, as long as the Changelings stayed in the ship until everypony once again had Princess Celestia’s sure protection, there was not much inherently wrong about Aurora seeking out Changeling workers. Certainly it would have been easier to sway them into helping her before entreating ponies.
“Ya know guys,” Rainbow commented to her friends, “there probably would have been a riot if everypony had been told all at once.”
“Of course there would have been,” Twilight cut off any response from the others, walking toward them while simultaneously dissuading anypony else from badgering her any longer. “That’s why these ponies are only ones that have had the Ascension procedure. They like her in a way.”
“How long ‘til ya thank we’ll be seein’ ‘er for tha experiment?” Applejack asked. “Even though I know they ain’t all bad, Changelin’s still give me tha shivers, an’ I’d like ta ‘ave Ponyville back ta normal.”
“No kiddin’ Twi,” Rainbow said. “I mean, even with Aurora trying to keep a riot from happening, this sort of thing isn’t just gonna blow over with everypony.”
“Let’s take this back to the library,” Twilight answered carefully, eyes darting to either side to check for idle ears listening to their conversation.
“It’s okay Twilight,” Pinkie said. “Pinkie Sense isn’t telling me anything about anypony eavesdropping.”
“Thanks Pinkie,” Twilight replied, though still cautious and leery, “but considering what Rainbow was saying about a riot, I think it’s still best to take this back to my place.”
“Lead the way dear,” Rarity answered for them all. ______________________________________________________________________________
Dear Twilight Sparkle, the other Bearers, and my dearest friend Luna,
Barring any unforeseen Complications which are unfortunately all too common in revolutionary Movements, it has come Time for you to fulfill your Obligation to my Research so we may end these so-called ‘Hostilities’ between myself and Celestia. As I am sure you are aware, Luna has taken the Burden of organizing my Reintegration into Equestrian Science and Politics, and I have therefore drawn up some Documents listing those Things I view to be of Importance to my Pursuits and general Well-being as well as a rough Outline of a Treaty between myself and Celestia and a Declaration of Policies I will see enforced in Regards to my Field. I find it to be imperative that Luna come along with you during the Tests to review these several Documents and thereafter bring Issue of them to me before I lower my Shield.
Come beneath the House of a Thousand Fangs at Midnight of Tomorrow that we might begin. Also, come alone and wear whatever Clothing might conceal you in Darkness best. As I am sure you are more than aware, my revealing my use of Changeling Hoofs has created more than a fair Share of Rifts amongst these Ponyvillians. Thus far, those that see my Vision and have overcome their primitive Fears have done an admirable Job at keeping unnecessary and base Protests at Bay, but I would take Caution in this Instance and see you delivered into my Vessel without any Altercation.
And finally, I stress upon you the Importance of preparing properly your Mind for the Test. Saturate yourselves with Memories of all Thoughts, Emotions, and physical Stances that you associate with the Elements of Harmony and them alone. The Sufficiency of your Preparation may have the Power, however unpleasant, to utterly render the Task I will perform mute.
That had been the note Aurora had slipped surreptitiously to Twilight when they had been speaking to the crowd of ponies just the day before. In Rainbow’s opinion, even with Twilight reading it in the most flat monotone she could imagine, the letter had carried with it a hint of a threat and dubious intent. On the surface, of course, everything she had said made perfect sense. She had grown up in the world of Canterlot and had in her youth waded through the quagmire that was federally funded science; which made it quite the obvious move to draft some form of legal documentation of the new arrangement. Also, Rainbow herself knew first hoof about the rising quarrels over the Changelings and Aurora in general. It was the chiefest topic of discussion at the bars, even when heavy amounts of cider had dulled normally more refined minds.
And yet, Rainbow had had doubts. Even if the Changeling reveal was causing factions to develop in Ponyville, the extreme lengths with which Aurora demanded they keep their secrecy seemed just that: extreme. Chrysalis had been first to draw attention to it, citing that with at least most of the truth laid bare before Ponyville, Aurora had little or no reason for such continued behavior. Rainbow had found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Chrysalis, and had been more disturbed by that turn of events than she would even admit to herself. Fluttershy, ever the optimist, had tried to explain away Aurora’s odd instructions with a plea that she was suffering from nerves, but it was feeble: brushed aside by Princess Luna’s explanation that Aurora never became nervous unless something began to go horribly wrong.
And stranger still had been Aurora’s writing, for the note had been written by her own hoof and not Inky Jay’s. Chrysalis and Luna drew considerable attention to the fact that she wrote in a traditional style that called for the capitalization of nouns. Rainbow had not cared about it until Chrysalis made the point of saying the tradition had been abandoned before Aurora would have been born. They all became further perturbed when Luna explicated that she had never seen Aurora write in the style before. But the true oddity of the letter had been the closing. Written in a language older than the first recorded tablets of pony history, the Lingua Universali. The why of Aurora’s choice escaped everypony, as did her self-given title Seeker of Intelligence. There had been a considerable silence as they all sat pondering the deeper meaning until Rainbow had shouted, irritated, “Look! This stuff is all weird and everything, but Aurora’s a weird pony, so it’s not that strange. And c’mon, we have a town to free, and the only way we’re going to do that is by doing what she wants.”
“Good speech, filly. Nice, short, and to the point,” Spearhead had said. From then on, everypony had been focused on readying for the next night. And now, here they all were, wearing inky black cloaks hoof stitched by Rarity while Princess Luna hovered at their hooves as the Mist of the Night. The clopping of their hooves echoed far more loudly through the night air than during the day and even their breath seemed to cause a greater disturbance in the natural quiet of the night than was safe.
Rounding the corner, Rainbow and her six companions came into sight of the House of a Thousand Fangs: the vessel appearing to bob silently in a gentle night breeze as if it were actually resting in a harbor. Beneath the craft stood Inky Jay, and he was not alone; well, at least he was not devoid of any additional physical entities about him. There was a small desk with a quill and pad resting on it to his left, a triplicate of fireflies in a jar providing light to the paper. And before his eyes was a highly unorthodox contraption supported on a tripod and aimed for the heavens. It took only a few moments of examination to reveal the machine to be a bizarre combination of a Device and traditional telescope. At present, Inky had his an eye through the viewfinder.
“Quite an interesting set of constellations you have here in Equestria,” he said to them without looking from the telescope. “The stars, even the sun, are quite possibly the one thing in all of the universe that do not discriminate in displaying their beauty to us who are woefully bound to dirt. Ironic too, would you not agree, that those with the most elegant beauty are not only the most simple but also the farthest from us?”
“It is interesting,” Twilight said shortly. “Is Aurora seeing us in through teleportation?”
“Come now Twilight Sparkle,” Inky chided her, almost amused at her temper with him. “I saw that grand telescope in your library. A device such as that is only owned by a pony with great astronomical interest. What fascinates you about the stars?”
“Why do you care?” Rainbow cut in, not liking how he was dodging Twilight’s more important question.
“Is it not enough that I care at all?” Inky replied.
“No,” Rainbow shot back without hesitation. “You ask questions just so you can get into arguments about the answer you get.”
“Perhaps that is how I seem to you, but I find my views hardly compatible with Equestrians at large, not purposefully confrontational. And as I always say, without disagreement, there can be no advancement,” Inky stated.
“Inky!” Twilight with a sharp edge to her tone. “Aurora?”
“Teleportation at the time appointed,” Inky answered her. “It is not yet midnight. In the meantime, you have yet to answer my question satisfactorily.”
Twilight sighed, irritated, voicing Rainbow’s own sentiments, before saying, “I like astronomy as a science. A star’s distance from us, what type it is, and so on. Are you happy now?”
“Happy? I have found my greatest happiness in the sequestered hollows of my mind,” Inky said. “I would say you ought to read more poetry and fiction in general. Science and art are not so diametrically opposed as so many believe.”
“Hollow is right,” Pinkie Pie snickered in Rainbow’s ear, prompting a suppressed snort from her. Rainbow was still recovering from Pinkie’s perfectly timed joke when, as Twilight settled for glaring at Inky, the grinding of gears from overhead was accompanied by the tip of a Device protruding from a retracted hull panel in Aurora’s ship.
“Ah, the time has come,” Inky said, turning his attention to the Device. “Lady Aurora will meet all of you inside. Princess Luna, my Lady tells me it would be within your best interests to teleport inside in a corporeal form.” The Princess answered by sweeping grandly up before Rainbow and her friends and materializing in a soft whirl of majestic power.
“We thank thee for alerting us,” she said.
“And finally, Lady Aurora has instructed me to remain here to escort you Bearers to Twilight Sparkle’s home once the experiment is concluded,” Inky added. “She has concerns that the procedure could leave you feeling as though you had drunk one too many shots of cider.”
“Wonderful,” Rainbow said sardonically to nopony in particular as they moved to stand beneath the Device. “I have to get a hangover without getting to enjoy any cider.”
One moment, she was complaining about Aurora’s complete lack of decency where hangover symptoms were involved, and the next she was flying through space without any proper senses to keep her sane. Twilight had said the teleportation lasted only just long enough to cause a feeling of suffocation, but Rainbow, when the trip did not end when she had been expecting, descended to someplace close to insanity. Nothing was real, nothing made any sense, and... everything was back to normal. She was breathing again, she could open her eyes, and her hooves actually were touching something solid. Pinkie Pie was the only one among them giddy from the experience, but her reaction was hardly surprising. “Ooooh! Can we do that again?!” she begged. Only Twilight seemed to pay her any real attention. Rainbow and the rest were too occupied taking in the alien look of the room into which they had been teleported. The entire layout reminded Rainbow of a much smaller and colder version of the massive train station in Phillydelphia; what with all of the separate alcoves built into a near perfect circle of a room.
“I have something far more interesting prepared for you, all of you,” Aurora’s voice came from the portion of the circle broken by a small hallway, casting a serious note over Pinkie’s lightening eccentricity. As many times as Pinkie annoyed Rainbow, she found herself angry that Aurora’s presence dampened that, whether she knew it or no. The alicorn that Rainbow saw as the source for all their troubles stumbled with almost every step as she joined their party of seven in the now cramped space. Taking in a great breath that betrayed her overexerted body more than her appearance, she continued, “We will teleport again, this time to my personal lab.”
“Aurora,” Luna spoke up, now easily surpassing her old friend in regal tone where before they would have been near equal. “Thou hast not taken our advice and properly rested thyself.”
“It is impossible, as much as I hate to say it,” Aurora replied, her breaths shuddering now, “to both rest as you suggest and keep my control of the Changelings.”
“Thou informed us when last we spoke that thou hast a way to avoid thy fatigue,” Luna reminded her.
“Oh, I do,” Aurora answered, “but those reserves I cannot squander to keep myself in a constant state of full power. They were nearly depleted as it stands just in my work with the Ascension procedures I performed over the past week.”
“This shallt not kill thee, shall it?” Luna asked, concerned.
“Perhaps it would in time,” Aurora said, “but with part of our agreement the loosing of these Changelings from my bonds, I doubt I will suffer any permanent damage. Or have you forgotten that your sister so decided it meet to ‘bless’ me with wings and the vitality that comes with both wings and a horn?”
“We hath never forgotten,” Luna said, “but we careth that thou remaineth with us to see thy trouble worth thy effort.”
“I have no intention of dying now or anytime I do not choose,” Aurora said, defiant though the effect was somewhat lessened by a shift in her stance that nearly sent her into the floor. “Now come.”
“YEEEAAHHH!” Pinkie shouted gleefully when Aurora threw a switch and the encompassing light of the teleportation grabbed them all again. The travel time was again, only just short enough for Rainbow to stand it without coming out shouting curses at Aurora. The place in which they appeared now had the most character of anything Rainbow had seen come from Aurora and she actually found herself liking the complete disorganization she found herself amongst. Metal parts, a variety of what looked like half-built Devices, and a rotating set of workbenches in the center of the room gave the place the feeling of the Cloudsdale Convention Center after the Steam and Magic Workers of Equestria Convention had been through it.
“Touch nothing,” Aurora commanded them all. “Despite what you might perceive, many of these Devices are not finished and any amount of tampering could cause a magic explosion that would kill all of us in moments.” Pinkie Pie and Rainbow both immediately drew their hooves back guiltily before they had brushed against what most assuredly were not volatile parts. Aurora carefully stepped through the mess to the far back of the room, where Rainbow first noticed the large fabric sheet covering six objects. It did not take Aurora flinging the sheet away for Rainbow to know they were the Harmony generators Twilight had told them all about.
The one thing Rainbow had not been prepared for was their design. Twilight had gotten the details perfect, what with that photographic memory of hers, but for Rainbow, not only did their very existence (knowing their purpose) seem at odds with the universe, they also exuded a sense of corruption. Even if the machines were able to bring about surrogate Elements of Harmony, there seemed something more to them: something far less innocent.
Rainbow was jolted from her thoughts when a mighty crash startled everypony in the room, Aurora having scraped Device parts from a separate work bench to leave behind a single of her creations resting solidly in two braces. “My Harmony Gems are in place, the Devices to power the machines are installed, so let us begin with the final stage of this accomplishment,” Aurora declared. “This Device you see here contains channels for a mapping spell particularly suited for recording brainwaves. Ordinarily, a mapping Device is connected to a second viewing Device which allows the mapped image to be shown, but in this case, the mapped material is needed in a transmitter Device. A transmitter Device needs a second storage sphere for the information the spell attaches to its energy, and it is that sphere that will receive the mapped information of your brainwaves. You Bearers will stand directly before the mapping Device with the collection sphere situated behind you. The magic will pass through your brain, mapping its nuances, and deposit them in the collection sphere. From then, I will allow you to see the fruits of your contribution.”
“May I clarify something?” Rarity said, waving a hoof like a schoolfilly.
“I find you will be barely able to understand this science Generosity, much less clarify it, but yes, you may ask a question,” Aurora replied.
“Correct me if I am wrong, but you want to shoot a spell into my head? Forgive me for saying this, but my experiences with magic aimed above my chin have never been pleasant,” Rarity said, her worried expression perfectly matching her voice.
“Ya know, I was thinkin’ the same thang,” Applejack added. “Ya could use tha’ there magic to make our brains go all moldy.”
“Even if I were so petty,” Aurora said irritably, “an addled mind would not do me any good with this experiment, and as you will all be mapped separately, I doubt that even with my defenses rendering wings and horns useless, I would be able to escape the rest of you.”
“Girls, I know Aurora isn’t exactly the pony to trust,” Twilight said, no objection of any kind coming from the alicorn, “but just think of it like having the doctor do an X-ray spell. You know what those are like Rainbow Dash.”
“Yeah, but, uh, Twilight, they don’t shoot me in the head with them,” Rainbow said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’ll do it. We have to. But that doesn’t make it any less freaky.”
“I’ll go first if that makes everypony less uneasy about it,” Twilight suggested.
“No, no, no, Twilight,” Pinkie protested, abnormally serious. “If anypony is going first, it’s Pinkie Pie. I’ll use my Pinkie Sense to tell if something’s wrong.”
“Pinkie Sense?” Luna and Aurora queried simultaneously.
“Fair enough,” Twilight said, stepping out of her friend’s way.
“What is the Pinkie Sense you refer to?” Aurora asked even as she mounted a collection sphere, which looked identical to one of the spheres that housed the magic in a Device, in a brace on the wall behind Pinkie.
“It’s not gonna mess up yer experiment, if that’s what yer worried ‘bout,” Applejack said. Aurora scrutinized a fidgety Pinkie Pie a moment more before taking her place beside the mapping Device.
“Close your eyes and imagine you are about to use the Elements of Harmony with your fellow Bearers,” Aurora instructed. “Allow the emotions, the thoughts, the images to fill you up completely. Nothing else truly exists.” Pinkie sighed contentedly, then giggled as was her wont. “Perfect, now...Release the Element of Laughter!” Aurora roared mightily, activating the mapping Device. As Pinkie’s smile became wider and her stance more like one reaching for something just out of reach, the Device let out a harsh, piercing, but cyclical whine with a thin beam of shimmering golden magic piercing through her head and absorbed by the sphere. It was over in only a few seconds, Pinkie opening her eyes dreamily while Aurora hastily examined the collection sphere.
“How wast thy experience?” Luna asked her earnestly.
“Great!” Pinkie said cheerfully. “I think I’ll think about those things more often. They made me feel all bubbly inside!”
“Pinkie Pie dear,” Rarity said, “you are always bubbly inside.”
“But this was different,” Pinkie insisted. “I felt more bubbly than normal! It was great!”
“Is it even possible for you to feel more bubbly Pinkie Pie?” Rainbow asked.
“Of course silly,” Pinkie smiled to her.
“I would say the operation in this instance has been a success,” Aurora interrupted their discussion, though her voice carried with it an excitement nopony present, except maybe Princess Luna, had ever heard. “I will not be absolutely certain until I activate the machines, but nothing seems amiss at my initial examination.”
“How exactly canst thou even beginneth to tell?” Luna asked, curious.
“The spheres vibrate with ever so subtle differences per the kinds of magic they hold,” Aurora explained, “and with the brainwaves incorporated into the mapping magic, the vibration is slightly different, as it should be. Now, each of the Bearers should have a unique vibratory pattern that I will use to measure success.”
Without any further interruptions (save Aurora giving Luna the documents she had mentioned in her letter), first Twilight, then Rarity, Fluttershy, Applejack, and finally Rainbow Dash allowed themselves to be mapped by the Device. Both Twilight and Rarity met with Pinkie’s first time success, but Fluttershy required a full four times before Aurora was satisfied with the vibration of the collection sphere. As it so happened, Fluttershy had been even more scared of the prospect of having a beam of magic flying through her head, and even with Pinkie, Twilight, and Rarity’s assurances still never managed to concentrate long enough upon the essence of the Element of Kindness which Aurora insisted upon. Eventually, Rainbow Dash stepped in, suggesting Fluttershy settle on imagining she was caring for all of her animals back home. Aurora protested on grounds of impotency of such actions, but was rendered uncharacteristically speechless when, with no other logical option, those thoughts produced the necessary vibrations in the collection sphere.
Lastly, Rainbow herself and Applejack each took two tests before Aurora accepted their donated brainwaves. In a way, Rainbow was proud of having failed at first to please Aurora. For her, it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Elements were not designed to be impersonal objects: after all, her feelings of loyalty were not to Aurora, but to her friends and Equestria.
“Luna, Twilight Sparkle,” Aurora disrupted Rainbow’s musings, “I require some physical assistance with the final preparations, and as you both are the only two amongst your party who have any understanding of the fragility of constructs involving magic, would you lend a hoof?”
“How can we help?” Twilight asked without hesitation.
“I will load the collection spheres into each Device, but I need you, Magic, and you, Luna, to attach the Device inside the only slot still open at the base. These are considerably larger and heavier than most Devices, and thus, it would be wise of both of you to take extra caution when handling them.” She finished her instruction with a definite clang as she slid shut the cover to one of the transmitter Devices. “This is for Generosity.” In short order, and with Rainbow and Applejack lending their more athletic builds to assisting Luna and Twilight, Aurora Streak’s Harmony Generators were assembled. Through it all, Aurora’s concentration set a grim, thin line on her lips, all of her previous enthusiasm replaced by hard analysis and scrutiny. Even well after the machines could be pronounced completed, Aurora combed over every detail six more times, muttering to herself repeatedly. In this time, Rainbow began to feel the beginnings of the hangover Inky had warned them about, but it was not nearly as debilitating as she had anticipated: truly, it was not debilitating at all, but more resembling a small headache after dangerous acrobatics at high speeds. Fluttershy was worse for it, having been forced through the procedure four times in a row. Luna was a great help, easing the heavy pain with the soothing powers she possessed as Princess of the Night. It was a collective boost to everypony else’s morale that Aurora could not disable all of Princess Luna’s powers.
“They are ready,” Aurora at last declared, “or as ready as my research indicates. With the activation of these machines, Equestria reaches into a new age. I will be able to continue my work without having to scrounge the edges of the Everfree Forest and Red Dunes canyons for supplies. The world will advance and nothing shall ever be as it once was: we shall, after so many centuries of crawling, pick ourselves up and take a great leap into the unknown. Behold!” With a stomp of one of her hooves on a wall mounted switch, the entire room seemed to roar with newfound life. The slow grinding of gears as they combined their teeth to move hidden levers, the flaring of almost sickly green light along the insides of the U-shaped machine and its rings, and the subdued crack and hiss of magic brought forth all assaulted Rainbow and the others’ senses at once. And with slow purpose, swiftly gathering speed, the rings and their cradles began to rotate until the claw-like support of the carefully cut gemstones lowered and the surrogate Element hovered in the center of the whirling, blurred mass of metal and magic of its own accord. The air within Aurora’s lab was shaken about, throwing everypony’s mane and tail in wild directions, the deep bass sound of the gyrating apparatuses drowning away every other conceivable sound. In bursting culmination, the gems flared with light of their color, releasing sounds like carefully placed notes of disparate music and changing the acid green glow of the inside of the rings to their own hue. The display could only be described as utterly beautiful, an enrapturing display of magic following its own patterns in glorious brilliance. A collective, “Oooohhhh!” escaped everypony, Pinkie mouthing, “Wow!” as well.
Only Aurora said nothing. She merely sank to her stomach, staring in awe at her own creation, almost not believing that her Devices had performed exactly as she had said they would. “Success...” she breathed in a barely audible and worn whisper. “I have done it... The Elements... I proved... I did it...”
“Congratulations Aurora,” Luna said kindly, approaching her. “They art working properly, or so we assume, and this beside, they art a spectacular sight to behold. We shall expect thee to lower thy protective field and free the Changelings tomorrow that we might begin our discussions with our sister.”
“The height of the day,” Aurora said. “I will comply with our agreement at noon tomorrow. If I do not, I put myself at the mercy of your greater powers.”
“Be sure to follow thine own prudence,” Luna warned. “We wilt show no lenience shouldst thou break thy word and our trust.”
“Understood, Luna,” Aurora replied. “I would expect nothing less.”
“We’ll leave you to it then,” Twilight said. “I’m sure you have a lot to record now, and I don't think Princess Luna has finished going over those drafts you gave her.”
“Indeed. I assume you by now know which Device will send you back to your beloved ground,” Aurora answered. “And as few of you have suffered any ill effects from the process, instruct Inky to return to me immediately for his duty as scribe.” Twilight nodded, and when Aurora said no more, they all filed out. Rainbow alone took one glance back; Aurora struggling to stand but with a triumphant smile on her mouth and in her eyes.
Sweet and savory scents wafted from the kitchen throughout the whole of the Ponyville Library. They were the wonderful smells of good food prepared by even better friends: friends that had prevailed through what would be marked in history as a trying test of pony resolve and negotiating ingenuity. Perhaps it would even be marked as the beginning of proper relations between Equestria and the Changeling Hordes. All of these positive thoughts and more settled snuggly into Twilight Sparkle’s thoughts as she went about the lobby of the library, levitating tables together in a large, make-shift banquet-style arrangement. With the night of Aurora’s experiment behind them and the future looking as bright as the morning sun at its rising, Twilight found negativity hard to come by, not that she was complaining in the slightest.
The moving of the tables was in preparation for a brunch of Rarity’s suggesting: a celebration not just of their survival through the ordeal of Aurora’s coming, but of their success in averting what could have erupted into utter disaster. While Twilight and her friends were more than inclined to agree with Rarity (enjoying friendly picnic brunches on a regular basis anyhow), both Princess Luna and Chrysalis thought the idea an excellent one for putting them in high spirits before the arduous task of Aurora’s reintegration.
So, as things stood, Spike, Fluttershy, and Applejack were in the kitchen, their touch responsible for the delectable food being prepared therein. Pinkie Pie and Rarity were preparing some light decorations for the occasion, though their personality differences and consequent tastes were conflicting amusingly every few minutes. As was to be expected, Pinkie usually won out. In an out-of-the way alcove, Luna and Chrysalis were conversing over several pieces of paper, debating with each other in legal terms Twilight remembered disjointedly from a law book she had read only once. From the intensity of their words, Twilight could only guess the papers to be Aurora’s drafts. Spearhead was currently unaccounted for, having left early that morning—before anypony in the library had even thought of rubbing their eyes, to be exact—for something nopony was quite sure of. Twilight could only vaguely remember him promising to be back in time for the brunch.
Distracted for a moment thinking of the hardened Night Guard captain and watching the two monarchs, Twilight let out a strangled, “Yaahhh!” and nearly lost her grip on the levitated table as a madly giggling Princess Lacewing raced just beneath her chin.
“Ah, come on! Really?!” Rainbow Dash’s frustrated growl shortly followed the princess. “How Pinkie Pie is able to keep cool...” she trailed off, before weaving behind Twilight only to have Lacewing peak out from beneath an already set table and run laughing harder than ever up the stairs. “There had better be plenty of food Twi,” Rainbow said, watching as Lacewing’s small white tail scurried out of sight.
“Are you more hungry than usual?” Twilight asked, grinning despite herself from Lacewing’s antics. The little Changeling filly brought back so many memories of herself and Shining Armor’s—usually vain—attempts to catch her.
“Not right now,” Rainbow grumbled, “but I will be after chasing that little runt all over the place.”
“You were probably just like her when you were that age,” Twilight reprimanded Rainbow mildly. “Celestia knows I was.”
“I had tons of energy, duh,” Rainbow replied, “but I spent all my time racing and learning flight tricks.”
“Just be glad she isn’t crying or something else like that,” Twilight said.
“Point taken,” Rainbow answered, though she was still less than thrilled as she winged her way up to the second story and shrieks of filly delight echoed down from above. No sooner had Twilight returned to her task of finishing the table arrangement did the door of the library click and swing open. A start went up from everypony, quieting the room uncomfortably until Spearhead stepped through the entryway.
“Did I miss something?” he asked, bemused by the silence. Only Pinkie replied, and in her typical fashion: laughter. Everypony else soon joined in, some only chuckling, others rolling with Pinkie Pie. “If I didn’t know better,” Spearhead said to Twilight when they had come ‘round again, “I’d say you’re all suffering from soldier’s paranoia.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we are,” Twilight replied with ironic frankness.
“Well, I’ll give you this much,” Spearhead said. “There aren’t many even in the Guard who have ever had to deal with situations this delicate. Your brother’s one of the ones I respect, but he’s the exception. Most of ‘em think it’s all magic and hoof-fighting.”
“How is my brother, by the way?” Twilight asked as she set out silverware. “I didn’t ask before because you both are part of different Guards, but you did mention him just now...”
“He’s coping,” Spearhead replied without further elaboration. At Twilight’s worried expression, though, he added, “Look filly, he knows you can handle yourself, but that doesn’t stop him from being worried for his little sister.”
“Well, he always did worry about me,” Twilight mused, her thoughts straying to imagined images of her brother among well-organized troops outside the sphere. Spearhead said nothing more, and with his silence, Twilight shook the images away to concentrate properly on their meal. It was supposed to be a celebration after all, and sad wishes really had no place at such events.
When the preparations were finally finished, with Princess Luna eventually acting as mediator between Rarity and Pinkie Pie, and the food set, everypony took their seats at the table, the Night Princess at the head. Rainbow gratefully handed off Lacewing to Chrysalis, who sat her in a booster seat Twilight still had from Spike’s younger days. The Changeling filly had eventually tired of the game she had been playing with Dash, instead becoming fascinated with different colored hairs in her mane and tail. Much to Rainbow’s continued chagrin (which Twilight was beginning to think was only a facade to hide her fondness for the filly), Lacewing insisted she sit next to her; and under the stares of Pinkie and Chrysalis, she obliged. Lacewing, giggling happily that she had gotten her wish, delighted more in playing with Rainbow’s mane than eating her food.
Conversation flowed freely and easily, stories were exchanged, and nominal amounts of hard cider were passed around the table. “A toast!” Princess Luna declared, raising her hoof for emphasis. “A toast to a bright future between all ponies that harmony may endure!”
“Hear, hear!” Spearhead said first, followed by everypony else saying, “To the future and harmony!” Each of them raised their shots and downed them, Rainbow and Applejack smacking their lips satisfactorily.
“Now that’s a proper reason for getting a hangover,” Rainbow said.
“I can’t wait to see my animals again,” Fluttershy said, quite out of the blue. “What is everypony else looking forward to?”
“I think my anticipation hardly needs explaining,” Chrysalis said icily, simultaneously busying herself with encouraging Lacewing to try a variety of pony dishes.
“Just to be able to fly normally again is going to be great,” Rainbow sighed. “ ‘Course, I’m going to have to up my exercise routine now that I’ve gotten used to the extra work of flying around her ship. Don’t wanna lose any muscle.”
“Business is sure to boom shortly after everything returns to normal,” Rarity said. “As uncouth it will be of them, there will be ponies from all over who will come to see a formerly occupied town.”
“Never mind tha tourists,” Applejack said matter-of-factly. “Ponyville’s been without basic tradin’ for near’bouts half a month. Everypony’s gonna be needin’ to buy an’ sell tons o’ goods. I don’ wanna think how many apple bushels’ve gone bad without the farm bein’ able ta sell here.”
“I would not worry about your fellow Equestrians where business is concerned,” Chrysalis inserted. “Once my Children are returned to me, it will still be some time before we are able to make our way back to our home. Even though most of my subjects with me now are soldiers and grunt workers, they will be eager to buy to bring back gifts and souvenirs. Many will also like to taste pony food with their own tongues.”
“You mean food tastes different when you change?” Twilight asked.
“It’s not all that surprising,” Chrysalis said shrugging. “To blend in properly, we need to have the tastes of an average pony. Others would take notice if, say, a new pony in their town had a particular aversion to chocolate.”
“What!?” Pinkie exploded. “Changelings don’t like chocolate!? The HORROR! Even dragons like chocolate!”
“They are dragons, we are Changelings,” Chrysalis replied simply. “In our natural forms, most Changelings prefer honey as a sweet treat.”
“Oh no! Hold on a sec guys!” Pinkie jittered, speeding back into the kitchen.
“She made a chocolate cake,” Applejack elaborated when everypony stared blankly at one another, trying and failing rather spectacularly to rationalize Pinkie’s behavior.
“That filly has more energy than even the most naive recruits on the first day of boot camp,” Spearhead said, shaking his head, eyes wide. “How do you all deal with it?”
“You learn,” Twilight said flatly and with half-lidded eyes.
“Or you just let it happen,” Rarity added. “Pinkie Pie will be Pinkie Pie no matter what you do, so it is best for everypony to not try to understand her.”
“Yeah, seriously, I tried,” Spike said. “That confused me more than trying to follow Twilight filling out a star chart.”
“At least—” Chrysalis began, only to be interrupted by an insistent and repetitious rapping against the library door.
“The sign outside says the library’s closed,” Twilight mused, sliding away from the table. “And everypony should be heading home for lunch right about now...”
“It’s prob’ly jus’ some silly pony hay-bent on causin’ problems,” Applejack said. “I wouldn’ worry ‘bout it Twi.” The knocks came again, but this time they were more unevenly spaced, as if the pony behind the door was unsure of knocking for a second time.
“We recommend thou go to the door, Twilight Sparkle,” Luna said serenely. “Even shouldst they be spiteful in their intent, we canst not afford ourselves to be callous.” Her decision made, Twilight awkwardly circumvented the impromptu dining table, her magic gripping the library entrance. Being conscious of not wanting to reveal either Chrysalis and Lacewing or Princess Luna to just anypony, Twilight cautiously edged the door open.
“Evening Twilight Sparkle. For a moment I was under the impression you had chosen to deliberately ignore your duties as town librarian,” said the gravelly voice of Inky Jay.
“What do you want?” she asked, possibly more aggressively than she had meant.
“I heard around the town you were celebrating with your friends,” he said calmly. “What is the occasion?”
“We are having a nice brunch—”
“AND DESERT!” Pinkie shouted from inside.
“—to celebrate our success negotiating with Aurora and her fact that we’ll all soon be able to see the rest of Equestria again.”
“Mm, I thought something of the kind would be the case,” Inky replied. “Would you mind if I were to join you? This success of yours is not just for you and yours after all.”
“What!?” Twilight reacted instinctively. “I mean... Yes, I would mind,” she amended in a more controlled tone.
“Do you doubt my ability to be the type of pony that celebrates,” he asked, clearly amused.
“Yes,” Twilight said, brisk. “And you would only cause problems. We want to relax.”
“I see...” Inky trailed off, staring at her and she at him for a long moment. “Well, I suppose you have some cider for you celebration at any rate.”
“The best, and no, you can’t have any,” Twilight preempted the question she knew would have been sure to follow.
“Lady Aurora has made you sharper, there can be no denying it,” Inky replied, though he did seem genuinely disappointed in being denied the cider.
“I’m no different now than the day we first met each other,” Twilight rebutted. “I just know the two of your better now.”
“That is a lie that was not even well told,” Inky said in his typical manner. “After this, you will never be so naive as to—”
“Let me just stop you now,” Twilight cut in, becoming more irritated the longer she stood and spoke with him. “I’m not letting you join us because I want to enjoy celebrating with my friends and the Princess. If I keep standing here, talking to you, I might as well let you in. Good afternoon Inky Jay.”
“Sharper,” was his pointed final word. Twilight retreated back inside the library, exercising conscious self-control not to slam the door shut. Before turning to face her friends, she drew in a deep breath and let it flow out slowly, forcing a calm on her stormy emotions.
“The nerve of him! Coming and asking to join us!” Rarity exclaimed, more offended by Inky’s gesture than Twilight’s anger.
“Not the mention the fact he blew up a business,” Rainbow seethed.
“It is audacious, we wilt admit,” Luna said. “But when hath Aurora and Inky Jay not been audacious. It is a part of her that has been instilled in him. Think upon it no longer our little ponies. We art together this day, and it should be a day of rejoicing!”
“Aye aye to that!” Spearhead agreed, tilting back another shot of cider and Pinkie taking this as a cue to begin bringing in the deserts (which curiously rivaled the main dishes in number). The room immediately became its more lighthearted self in the presence of sugar and Pinkie’s joyous expression. Their conversations spilled over once again with stories (embarrassing foalhood stories about Celestia that Luna told with the stifled guffawing of her audience) and games of chess and other modern board games were to be had. Chrysalis proved to be the greatest among them at the plethora of card games in Twilight’s possession, her ability to bluff unrivaled. So welcome and inundating was the atmosphere, that everypony quickly passed Inky’s intrusion from thought. ______________________________________________________________________________
The dull red door composed of slats perfectly even in width was promptly closed in his face. Well, that was not exactly the right wording. Twilight Sparkle had not slammed the door in anger. He actually admired her self-control, having seen in the lines of her face that doing just that would have been more agreeable to her. Twilight Sparkle had instead shut her door in the most normal manner of anypony. That, however, did not change the abruptness of the act. That was the right word. Abrupt. Not that he was offended by said abruptness. Aurora had a tendency to carry the characteristic whenever she answered questions, and even when she asked them. Twilight Sparkle had surprised him was all. She was normally quite a deliberate pony from his experience, and to see her acting and speaking on intuition alone was not a little beguiling.
Still, as interesting a facet of her deeper self it was, he could not stand on her doorstep forever. He had not been merely attempting to needle Twilight Sparkle and her fellows, but genuinely wished to celebrate success. After the previous night of recording all of the details Aurora pressed upon him, her near giddy excitement over the triumphant completion of her most ambitious project had coated the entire ship. Even the Changelings she controlled appeared more cheerful: mirrors of Aurora’s own emotional state.
Inky had thus felt it only appropriate that he celebrate his master’s success, which in a way, was his success as well. Talk among the Ponyvillian food vendors had revealed the small party Twilight and her friends were holding amongst themselves, and considering they were the only ponies in Equestria with which he was on speaking terms, it seemed natural to seek them out first. But now that they had rejected his self-invitation, Inky found his hooves directed to the one other place he knew without any doubt would be appropriate in any village for celebration of any kind: the local tavern. Of course, he would not be participating in the carousings of the ignorant and it was certain the cider he would receive would be of lesser quality than that bought by Twilight Sparkle or her friends, but the tender of the place would not blather at him about his particular choice of currency. No doubt he would be glad of a pony with enough decency to pay for his drink before consuming it and who left his care before becoming stupidly and uncooperatively drunk. Inky had no intentions of engaging in drunkenness anyhow—he had heard of and seen whole villages from his former home destroyed by a single drunk—but acquiring the cider would be far simpler this way that haggling with a street vendor.
Being close to midday, the bar was not yet full, but nor was it completely devoid of customers. There were just enough ponies present for the silence that greeted his approach to be ominous, only the tender continuing to move: either oblivious in his work or purposefully keeping himself out of what might become a dangerous fight. Inky’s eyes swept the faces turned so intently in his direction, and with that quick glance, he saw all of the silent hatred, limited ideas, and love of Celestia that dominated their words and actions. Ignoring each of them with an amused chuckle under his breath, Inky stepped lightly up to the bar.
“Good day to you, Mr. Jay,” the tender said with a fair amount of tact.. “I’ll say you’re the last pony I ever thought to see in my bar, except maybe the princesses themselves.”
“It is indeed a good day for me,” Inky replied, “which I suppose is rather odd for ponies who come to such a place.”
“Not really,” the tender said, glancing over at his other customers. “We have parties here for every hoofball game during the season.”
“And even more cider in a team’s loss,” Inky added dryly.
“Yeah, it happens,” the tender said with a shrug. “You meet all types in my line of work.”
“I suppose there is a grain of truth to be had in that statement, especially considering my own presence,” Inky said, more to himself than the tender.
“Speaking of which,” the bar’s owner stepped in as Inky appeared to muse over a thought, “what can I get ya?”
“A bottle of your best cider is all I require,” Inky said, sliding his Granes across the counter. “And I will not hear any argument on my mode of payment.”
“On no no,” the stallion replied, scrutinizing the Granes for a brief second before ducking beneath the bar. “As long as I can make money out of it, I’ll take just about anything. You learn to take what you get if ya know what I mean.” There was a pause, punctuated by a chiming clink of glass bottles knocking gently against one another. “You sure you want the whole thing?” the tender asked curiously as he brought the rather large bottle of cider onto the counter. “That’s quite a draught for one pony, and a pegasus no less.”
“You err in implying first that I would drink here in the presence of those that would be too pleased to see my head in Celestia’s statue garden, and second in suggesting that I will drink until I collapse, unconscious,” Inky berated the tender. “So yes, I am sure of buying the entire bottle.”
“No offense meant,” the pony replied, waving a hoof in the air. “But ya know, I’ve gotta watch out for my customers, and pegasi just get drunk faster than other ponies.”
“No offense my flank!” one of the customers in a corner muttered with every intent of being heard.
“Don’t let him push you around Bottle Cap,” another said, encouraged now by the first.
“Guys, look,” Bottle Cap said seriously to his regulars. “Just because you don’t like Mr. Jay doesn’t mean I should refuse to serve him. I’ll hold up Princess Celestia’s values and let that speak for itself. Here you are Mr. Jay.” Bottle swept the Granes from the counter into a pouch he procured from somewhere behind the bar and slid the cider to within Inky’s grasp. Tucking the bottle under one of his wings, Inky said to Cap as he turned to leave, “If nothing else, at least you understand the concept of honor.”
“It’s not so hard if you stay grounded Mr. Jay,” Bottle Cap replied to Inky’s back.
“Mayhaps we can meet later,” Inky paused at the door. “The stubborn are always enjoyable to debate with.” Willing to let the bartender and his customers argue and shout at one another after his departure, Inky took no more time at the entrance to the place. His hooves he directed purposefully to a site he had taken great length to avoid during any of his other wanderings in the town prior. It was ironically fitting, it seemed to him, to drink to Aurora’s victory at the site where it all nearly came undone.
Roped off from the rest of the businesses and road, the blackened and half-collapsed bagel shop looked no better now after weeks of repair work than it had the day after its destruction. So close that confrontation had been, so nearly derailing of each every one of Aurora’s plans. Chrysalis had been a risky ally from the moment he and Aurora had met with her, of that he had always been certain. But he had never accounted for the mass of trouble she would cause. Her apparent death (for she was too clever for him to be certain of her doom) was a welcome surprise, but even that itself had caused an excessive amount of trouble for Aurora’s intentions. The shop was a site of drastic change in his and Aurora’s dealings with Bearers of the Elements, and had acted as a knowledge catalyst that had, in no small way, refocused the terms of Aurora’s reintegration.
So, to drink in celebration of victory here was both ironic, yet simultaneously sincere. It was a quiet place as well, the repair crew having left for lunch and most other ponies avoiding the area for fear of a second ‘gas’ explosion, whatever that was. That the investigators had not caught the residual traces of magic that the grenades would have left astounded him. But, if anything, that was a greater reason for him to drink at this spot. Aurora and he had overcome the obstacles, both foreseen and unforeseen. Yes, in the final accounting, Aurora’s plans had come to fruition. The betterment of Equestrian society would soon begin.
Inky took the bottle’s cork in his teeth, popping it off to the satisfying, fizzling sounds of fresh carbonation escaping. “Cheers, Equestria. May you eventually find true harmony,” he said and, taking the bottle’s neck in a wing, tilted it back into his waiting throat. He took a considerable draught, shaking his head when he finished to clear it of the power of the alcohol. He set the cider aside for the moment, his artist’s mind beginning to work out a few lines in a poem. As a quirk, he was not overly fond of poetry, but did the beauty of a true master’s quill. All the same, he had dabbled his hoof in creating some here and there, never composing anything short of a stanza. Now was one of those times, or he so perceived, that the sound of verse and meter best captured his feelings of the moment. Idly, with no quill or paper to permanently record his work, Inky began to scratch out the words in the dirt of the path. As he had thought, his attempt stalled after only four lines. Sighing with only mild regret, he drank again from the cider bottle, allowing his eyes to wander to the sky whose true color and expanse were blocked by Aurora’s field.
It was in that moment he saw it, and before he had fully registered what it meant, more and more of them began to appear, accompanied by a dread noise.
A crack, as if in glass, was crawling its way over the magic to the dome’s apex. Spidering branches surged from the main stress line, galloping out for a brief second before slowing to a crawling pace. And through all of this, the fractured scream of magic attempting to hold itself together began to build, soon joined by deep booms, as if great floes of ice were breaking away from a glacier. Even as Inky watched, his mind struggling both to observe the coming catastrophe and calmly comprehend the reason and source for the shield’s failing, great arcs of golden magic lanced through the growing cracks in the field, releasing a screech of power with deadly purpose.
The next moments were utter deafness. The air itself ceased to move, birds silenced their song. And just as the silence had become a shock for anypony within the field, it was replaced by a cataclysmic roar. The golden magic within the cracks flared, completely blasting the field to disintegrating fragments and throwing Inky several feet with rush of wind that ripped through Ponyville. He careened backward, head over heels, until an alley wall knocked mercilessly against his head. Senses reeling, eyes blurring and duplicating everything in front of him, Inky’s mind screamed at him to stand up, to run. With a growl, he forced such thoughts away, struggling against his adrenaline shaking legs. He stumbled once, but his equilibrium was returning to him along with his other senses.
Already there were screams of ponies scared beyond reason. Before he could escape the alley and look to Aurora’s ship, Inky’s mane was whipped lightly as a full squadron of armored pegasi streaked overhead. And they were not alone, for once out and able to see the skies of Ponyville properly, Inky’s eyes beheld legions of Equestria’s Air Corps. They formed tight ranks, all speeding toward Aurora’s vessel from all sides.
Inky knew their fate before the ship had even stirred, and refused to turn his head back in his gallop when the ground began to shake, and the roar of magic fire announced the House of a Thousand Fangs’ wakening. Nopony tried to stop him in his fierce, purposed run, especially the fleeing citizens of Ponyville. Nevertheless, he ducked down a side street as the raw Armies of the Sun and Moon began to pour into the town. The even clopping of their armor shod hooves and unanimous shaking of their heavy armor was an overwhelming sound, enough to drown out the building power in the engines of Aurora’s vessel. Such menacing precision of both sides surrounded Inky until the first blow was struck.
He whirled in place to see a combined blast of magic arc above the buildings of Ponyville and smash with a resounding clang on the nose of the House of a Thousand Fangs. Any damage done was not visible from his position, but its retaliation was undeniable. From an opened port Inky could not see, a brilliant pulse of red magic let out its scream of a battle cry. It vanished beneath the roofs of Ponyville, and its impact was felt in a deep reverberation through the earth and seen in earth and blood exploding into the air. As though that first blast were a mere prelude, the House of a Thousand Fangs became the battleship Inky knew it could be. Twenty port side and twenty starboard Device cannons slid from the alcoves of wood and brass that had concealed them. As the shouts of commanders in the sky and upon the earth ordered ponies to seek cover, Inky watched from his side-street in undisguised horror as Aurora ordered her attack. A withering volley of Device magic barrelled into the ranks of the Armies, silencing half-finished cries of pain and spraying the living with the blood of the dead. Nothing escaped, not even the town itself. Wood roofs were blasted into splinters, mortar crumbling into gravel and showering Inky like rain.
And yet, through all the chaos, death, and destruction, Celestia’s forces wavered not. The squad leaders belted out orders, many along the lines to keep the soldiers from succumbing to fear. In short order, the Armies of the Sun and Moon had not only taken cover behind buildings, but returned fire on Aurora’s vessel. Pegasi teams whirled in tight groups through extreme evading maneuvers, drawing the attention of many of the guns. In the interim, Earth ponies provided range directions to unicorn counterparts, who unleashed a formidable round of magic bolts that visibly punched through wood and released smoke screens at the port holes.
And with their first statements made, the forces of Celestia clashed fully with the armament of Aurora Streak. Ponies ran about wildly, dodging concussive Device fire which left craters in the road and destroyed the walls of houses.
The Earth ponies soon were forced to not only provide support to the unicorns, but function as combatants directly. For Aurora let loose her stolen Changeling forces onto the ground directly beneath the House of a Thousand Fangs to defend the ship’s vulnerable underside. The Changelings, being tied to her smaller collection fields now that the dome had been countered, formed a protective ring beneath the vessel, never allowed to venture far from under its shadow. Against those ponies who were brave and skillful enough to have evaded the wanton destruction of the Devices, the Changelings clashed black horn against glinting steel. But on the deck of the ship, the hisses of Changelings and bellows of pegasi could be heard, the bravest of the Air Corps daring to board the enemy craft and face the worst their old foe could offer.
Through this mayhem of motion and unbearable sound, Inky pushed toward the Ponyville Library. He found himself constantly jumping up slightly to avoid crazed and crying groups of Ponyvillians, or rolling to the side to avoid being incinerated by Device weapon blasts as they attempted to hammer Celestia’s forces. The madness that had engulfed Ponyville had to be stopped, could be stopped; and the one pony that could help him most the one who had done everything she could to avert even the smallest conflict in the first place: Princess Luna.
He barreled around a corner, and the unique library came into sight, miraculously undamaged. Ponies of all ages and kinds were galloping toward it, Twilight Sparkle herding them inside. Her face had been set into commanding iron, her horn aglow, likely prepared at any instant to provide a barrier should a cannon blast come hurtling in the library’s direction. Inky at first questioned why she was gathering the ponies all into a building that was even more susceptible to destructive magic than a normal house, until he remembered the passages. A great store of old and unused books and reference guides were kept in underground tunnels formed and supported by the roots of the very tree that was the library. Inky had been unable to visit them himself, they having been locked with a plaque on their entrances describing the contents, but judging by the size of the tree, they were surely deep and long: the perfect protection from the hellfire that was the Device weapon blasts.
“Where is the Princess of the Night?” Inky demanded of Twilight without so much as a formal greeting.
He must have frightened her, for she jumped in her own skin before turning and snapping at him, “Where did you come from? Shouldn’t you be with Aurora pointing at where she should aim those guns!?” The last words she screamed at him.
“This is as much a horror and shock for me as it is for me: perhaps more so as I know Lady Aurora better than you,” Inky replied coldly, ducking with Twilight and the ponies still entering the library as Device magic slammed mercilessly into the roof of a house just a block away. “But I need to see Princess Luna immediately. If I am to stop Aurora with any kind of expedience, I will need her help.”
“Wait, what?!” Twilight said, shaking her head. “Did you say you want to stop Aurora? That’s really rich Inky Jay. If you think for one—Spearhead!” Inky Jay only just registered the alarm in Twilight Sparkle’s voice before he was lifted off his hooves in a levitation field and rammed against the library’s bark. He winced, the bark scraping his wings and back harshly.
“Start talking!” Luna’s assistant roared, his face mere inches from Inky’s own. “And if I hear one fancy diversion or half-truth out of that bucking mouth of yours, by Celestia I’ll give you a taste of the old griffon torture! You like your wings with feathers on ‘em!? Then talk!”
“You are wasting time and lives interrogating me!” Inky shouted back, the scratch in his voice becoming more pronounced and sounding rather painful. “I know nothing and want only to stop this!”
“Oh, that’s a likely story!” Spearhead bellowed, his magic grinding Inky’s back even more forcefully against the tree.
“Spearhead!” Twilight inserted herself, desperate. “Inky came to me wanting to see Princess Luna about stopping the battle. In-fighting is the last thing we need right now!” She had likely intended to say more, but instead gasped urgently before throwing her body around and igniting her horn with more layers of power than any unicorn Inky had ever seen. In response to her call, a dense, undulating magic barrier erupted before them all. Only seconds later, a cannon blast disintegrated in warbling tones against the shield. The moment it had served its purpose,Twilight allowed the arcane protection to fall: a sharp intake of breath accompanying her exertion.
“Inside colt,” Spearhead seethed, levitating Inky off the bark and toward the door. “Twilight Sparkle! Get inside! The rest of the ponies from around here are already in the tunnels! We stay out here any longer we’ll be incinerated!”
“Fine! Go! I’m right behind you!” she said, facing the street defensively as she backed into the library after Spearhead. She bolted shut the door to the library subconsciously and would have gone about other trivial habits she had developed over the years (not to mention attempting to save countless books from their shelves), were it not for Spearhead’s rough insistence that they go below the earth. Upon finally reaching a junction to three of the storage tunnels, Twilight procured keys for two cleverly hidden behind a nearby shelf. Passing one into a second field of Spearhead’s, Twilight said, “Take Inky to the Princess and the others. She’ll know how to tell if he’s lying or not.”
“He will probably try to murder her,” Spearhead replied gruesomely, “especially if his first request was to see her Majesty immediately.”
“As a pegasus, my assassination skills are rather lacking,” Inky added to their conversation flatly.
Ignoring him, Twilight continued to Spearhead, “Even if that is what he wants to do, you are Princess Luna’s chief guard. I know you won’t let that happen, and really, statistically speaking, between all of us, Inky’s chances of actually landing a blow to anypony are almost non-existent.”
“Numbers never impress me,” Spearhead said, “but you are right in saying that magical prowess is on our side. Where are you headed first?”
“I want to check on the ponies taking refuge in the tunnels,” Twilight said. “Plus, Applejack and Fluttershy are with them down there, and there’s no point trying to figure this insanity out without all of us there.”
“Bring them back as soon as possible then,” Spearhead replied, inserting his key and wrenching the door open, Inky still captive the old stallion’s magic. The room into which Inky was forced held a sense of mysticism that could not be subdued even by the deep, shaking blasts impacting the ground outside. It was an ovoid cavern whose walls were constructed of layers of tangled roots interspersed with the earth which would have been sought by the stems when they were still young. The entire place was lit with only minimal shadow by five lanterns each burning a single candle, one hanging from the ceiling while the remaining four had been hung on roots capable of supporting the weight. But while Inky was drawn to the natural beauty and inspiration the place held, this pull vanished into harsh resentment upon taking note of the ponies in the room with him. Princess Luna was present, as were those of the Bearers not occupied with the refugees, but so too stood Queen Chrysalis in their midst. Inky saw her before she him, and in that brief moment, he saw in her face a convoluting mix of absolute fury and compassionate fear. To whom exactly this fear was given Inky had not time to tell, for she turned her head at Spearhead’s entrance and immediately her eyes became even more narrow than the slits they normally were.
“So, you did not die,” Inky said first as he was rather forcefully deposited before the lot of them. “And you sought refuge in the hooves of those who you knew would share your desire to see Aurora gone. I cannot say I am disappointed. It is very like you.” His last few words were punctuated by the swinging of the candles and shaking of small particles of dirt from the ceiling.
“You know nothing of who I am,” Chrysalis seethed. “Be glad I still see you as being of some use in getting us all out of this mess; else I would have killed you the moment Luna’s guard brought you into this room!”
“Be reasonable Chrysalis,” Inky said, impatient. “Look at the ponies around you. Do you really think they would let you kill me? And besides, I am not here to be interrogated. I am here to make everypony in this room useful in stopping the bloodshed outside rather than allowing them to continue to cower under the earth.”
“Thou speakest boldly, but falsely!” Luna very nearly bellowed. “How dare thou come before us, lying with the first words from thy mouth! We know how thee see Equestria and our subjects! So long as Aurora’s ideals art instituted, thou wilt not care in the slightest the death that cometh before it!”
“Yeah!” Rainbow Dash agreed. “You didn’t seem to mind trying to kill Chrysalis and Thunderlane! Why should we think you care about anyone except yourself and Aurora?”
“Some wars are necessary, others not,” Inky growled low. “Do not pretend to understand where my loyalties lie. They are far more complex than the blind faith all of you hold in Celestia. This fight was not instigated by Aurora, but by that very monarch you so continuously defend! Lady Aurora is reacting as any reasonable pony ought, but by so doing, she is destroying any chance she might have with a valid stance in the world! To save her, I must fight against her. As paradoxical as it sounds, it is true.”
“And you want us to help you? How laughable!” Rarity scorned him.
“Are you blind colt?” Spearhead asked, disbelieving. “I’ve seen retaliation! I’ve seen others protecting themselves! Weapons of that kind of power go far beyond defense! And really! She could run if survival mattered so much to her! She has a flying ship for Celestia’s sake!”
“I’ve seen this kind of ‘retaliation’ as well,” Chrysalis said, still glaring at Inky. “It might start with intentions only to protect yourself, but if you begin to feel the reality of your power, and you push harder and harder until you are on the offensive. Don’t tell me you would be unhappy if Aurora destroyed Celestia and her armies and established herself as ruler of Equestria!”
“You are simplifying me to fit your narrow thinking and wasting valuable time in the process!” Inky was shouting now, the scratch in his voice becoming more prominent again. “Lady Aurora and myself do not agree with Celestia on many fronts, true, but she is the ruler of Equestria nonetheless, and it is to her whom ponies are loyal! If Lady Aurora is to enlighten all of Equestria, ponies cannot hate her utterly! If you believe such would not happen if she forcibly took the throne, you are worse than fools!”
“DO NOT PRESUME TO CALL ME A FOOL!” Luna exploded, marching furiously at Inky Jay, grasping him in her magic and shaking him like a rag doll. “I GAVE EVERYTHING I COULD TO AURORA TO HELP HER! I BELIEVED SHE COULD HELP EVERYPONY! THAT YOU AND SHE COULD KEEP US FROM BECOMING STAGNANT. AND NOW YOU DARE TO CALL ME A FOOL AS AURORA DESTROYS EVERYTHING I HOPED TO SAVE!”
“Princess! You’re going to kill him!” Twilight Sparkle’s voice managed to penetrate through Luna’s rage. She gasped, startled at her own temper, dropping Inky with no warning. He hit the floor in a collapsed heap, his eyes tightly sealed from the pain in his head. He tried to stand after a few moments, but was still far too disoriented and collapsed again shortly thereafter. Yet nopony had any attention for the pegasus; their eyes all trained in confused anxiety on Princess Luna. They had all seen her angry before; all seen her use the Royal Canterlot Voice. But physical violence to another pony was something foreign in her bearing; something nopony was quite sure how to approach.
“We are so sorry!” Luna breathed heavily. “He just—We gave—She —”
“It’s alright Princess,” Twilight said. “You didn’t kill him, so no harm has been done.”
“But we wouldst have, Twilight Sparkle, had thou not stopped us,” Luna lamented. “There wast no excuse for such an outburst.”
“In my opin’on Princess,” Applejack said, coming out from around Twilight, “ya’ve got yerself a perfectly good reason outside.”
“Violence doth not excuse violence, dear Applejack,” Luna replied.
“I would disagree, and not on the principle of the statement,” Inky said, finally having managed to stand for longer than a few seconds. “Every one of you wants to see the battle stopped, as do I. Question my motives and my truth if you like, but without me the task of ending this fight with any more of expedience is impossible.”
“You sound like you’re stalling to me colt,” Spearhead said dangerously. “Hurry it up or I’ll finish what Her Majesty started.”
“We can stop this only if we can make it inside the House of a Thousand Fangs,” Inky continued. “And as there are none of us inside to activate the teleportation system or lower the lift, you will need my personal mode of entry. When Aurora built the system, she added to one of the mapping Devices that detects ponies beneath the ship an identification spell, that, when triggered activates a teleporter. The natural magic in every pony is unique, and the magic in me and her serves as the key to the lock.”
“That’ll involve getting past the Changelings on the ground, not to mention getting that close before being blown to pieces in the first place,” Rainbow Dash replied skeptically.
“But our natural magic becomes impossible to use when we go that close,” Twilight objected. “How does that work?”
“Just because you cannot use it does not mean you cannot try,” Inky replied. “If I only attempt to fly, it will activate.”
“But what about once we are inside everypony?” Pinkie asked, worry coloring every syllable. “We don’t know what it’s like inside. We’d be totally lost.”
“I know my way around most of the ship,” Chrysalis reassured her. “I am sure he knows even more than I do.”
“Indeed,” Inky answered.
“What about targets?” Rainbow asked. “Even if we do know our way through, how do we know what to go after?”
“Whatever keeps pegasi from flying and unicorns from using magic, first and foremost,” Spearhead answered immediately. “I’d suggest going after the things holding the Changelings against their will next.”
“If I can organize my Changelings once again,” Chrysalis added, “there is nothing Aurora will be able to do against us.”
“What about the engines?” Fluttershy suggested hesitantly. She had, up until that point, been hiding beneath Rainbow Dash, letting out subdued squeaks when the blasts impacted the ground anywhere nearby.
“That’s a good idea filly,” Spearhead said gruffly. “It’ll prevent her from escaping once she realizes what we’re tryin’ to do.”
“And she shall, make no mistake,” Luna said. “Her science is akin to her children if she had any, and that craft is the greatest application of it we have ever seen.”
“You are all focused upon the effects, not the source,” Inky said disparagingly. “Even if all of the parts of the craft and the army currently employed in its defense are neutralized, do you truly believe you can stop another from rising in its place once Lady Aurora flees.” Nodding to Spearhead he continued, “True, she would be forced to leave behind all that she has created: forced to begin again from nothing. But she did it once, and now would make fewer errors again. You must also consider that in her exile, she was hindered by the need to fool Celestia’s guards there. With the freedom to fly where she would, do you honestly believe she would seek solitude? I am sure the Griffons would have no qualms about supplying her with all the necessary materials to build a dedicated battleship. What could Equestria do against a vessel so purposefully constructed? You must take her if you wish to secure Equestria’s safety, and I must see her restrained to preserve her ways.”
“Aurora Streak hath certainly imparted in thee the ability of great speech, even if she did not believe she held the skill herself,” Luna said. “But Aurora wilt be heavily defended. Reaching her wilt not be practical with so few of us and we canst not bring large numbers with us. The Devices wouldst be unable to bear the strain of so many.”
“Then I’ll go alone,” Inky replied, stalwart and stubborn. “It will at any rate spare any of your lives. She will not suspect me as ally in your cause.”
“And what exactly will you do once you get to her?” Twilight asked realistically. “You of all ponies won’t be able to talk her out of this insanity. You’re her servant!”
“I stand a far better chance of it than any of you,” Inky said. “I agree that your pursuits must be followed, but so must mine.”
“Then I’ll go with you,” Twilight declared, to the collective frowning of everypony else and an astounded ‘What!’ from Rarity (who flung a hoof to her mouth upon realizing how uncouth she had sounded).
“That would be pointless and a poor decision on behalf of the rest of these” Inky reprimanded her.
“He’s right,” Chrysalis and Spearhead said at once. “You have great skill in magic Twilight,” Chrysalis continued. “Once we are able to bring that power back to you, we will need every bit we can get.”
“I’d listen to the queen, much as I’d rather not,” Spearhead added. “We’re going to facing down a Changeling army, and this time, they won’t all be focused on taking a city. We’re gonna be the only things they care about.”
“If we split up into four groups, that still leaves enough ponies who have magic for at least one group apiece,” Twilight insisted.
“Twilight! Think about what you’re saying!” Rainbow said accusingly. “Let that pain-in-the-flank get himself killed if he wants! It’s no more than he deserves after all the trouble he’s caused.”
“Rainbow Dash, that was an awful thing to say!” Fluttershy said forcefully (or as forcefully as she was capable). “I happen to agree with Twilight. I’ll go with you too.”
“Fluttershy, that’s not necessary,” Twilight said, uncomfortable. “I mean, you’re not exactly... that is... you’re not a fighter.”
“Somepony has to keep you from being too hurt to go on,” she answered, determined.
“We’re not going to be able to change your mind are we Flutters?” Rainbow asked her close friend, exasperated. When Fluttershy shook her head, Rainbow turned to Princess Luna, saying, “Well, if she’s going with us, the safest place for her to be is with Twilight. Let ‘em go.”
“Though we wouldst wish it otherwise, we consent to thy wishes,” Luna acquiesced. “Now, onto the rest of us. General Spearhead, how wouldst thou divide us?”
“I think the queen and Miss Dash could handle themselves if they were on their own,” he replied, scanning both of them. “Chasing down whatever it is holding the Changelings to Aurora would be good for them both as well. Your Majesty, I’d suggest taking Miss Pie and Miss Rarity. They’re the least capable in combat and will need more protection that I could offer. Miss Jack and I are hardened I would imagine, so we can move alone as well. We can take the engines and you the Device generators.”
“Doth this arrangement grieve anypony?” Luna asked the room at large. It seemed everypony was in agreement, for nothing save the pervasive booming of the concussive strikes echoed outside.
That was, until a voice smaller and squeakier than Fluttershy’s crept through the silence asking, “Momma, do I get to go with you and Rainbow Dash?”
“Should I even ask who that is?” Inky asked, repulsed.
“It’s Princess Lacewing you,” Rainbow leapt to the filly’s defense as Chrysalis crouched down from where her daughter had come out from beneath her legs. “I wouldn’t expect you to get it.”
“Dear, do you remember The Iz?” Chrysalis asked Lacewing, soft and gentle.
“Yes,” the filly shuddered. “Did he come back? Is that him out there?”
“No, no,” Chrysalis replied reassuringly. “But do you remember when Momma left to slay him?”
“You told me to stay in my room and not leave until you had come back,” Lacewing said, curious as to why her mother was asking the question.
“I did, and I want you to do the same in this room,” Chrysalis said, now more firm. “This is probably worse than The Iz, so that’s why all of us have to go.”
“Don’t worry kid,” Rainbow said cheerfully, putting on an air of confidence for the filly’s sake. “We’ll all be back before you know it.”
“You promise?” Lacewing pleaded with them both, eyes darting between mother and rainbow maned pegasus.
“We do,” Chrysalis replied, smiling. Lacewing let escape a small whimper before throwing her riddled hooves around her mother’s neck, holding her tight. Chrysalis returned the gesture, and Twilight saw a small, glistening tear drop from one of the queen’s eyes. Lacewing disengaged from the hug, and before she could stop her, did the same to Rainbow Dash. She began to sniffle, and Dash, still recovering from the surprise, gently patted Lacewing on the back.
“We’ll be fine, ‘kay,” she said to Lacewing when the filly let go. “Your mom’s got a lot in her.”
Nopony said anything for a moment, the reality of their imminent assault crashing in waves upon them all. Jolting them into action, Princess Luna said somberly, “Come. We cannot lose our nerve now, not with all of Equestria balanced upon our success or failure.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Spearhead prided himself on having seen everything the difficult task of Captain of the Lunar Guard had presented him. Brutality, especially in failed assassination attempts, was not foreign to him. But upon taking a scout’s survey of the ground and sky immediately outside Twilight Sparkle’s library/home, he felt his stomach lurch in revulsion of the sight before him. Aurora’s cursed vessel had moved off to the western edge of Ponyville for the time being, taking the manic battle and ensuing destruction with it; the but the devastation left in its wake was like nothing seen since perhaps the War of the Sun and Moon. Great craters dotted every street, both on and off the road, filled with wood burning in stark red flames of magic. To Spearhead’s trained soldier’s eye though, the harsh red glow of the fires could not hide the carnage of the living. Strewn amongst the shattered wood that was all that remained of homes and half buried under dislodged gravel were bodies. In his sight alone they numbered easily over fifty and not one was whole. Many had been charred black, skin and hair burned away with only bones and blood roiling over it from the heat of the blasts they had taken. But more still were the mangled, those unfortunate enough to have died slowly as their life leaked away from mortal wounds. The blood of these stained everything and those severed parts of their bodies that had so doomed them lay with the rubble as if they belonged with the wood and mortar.
The sheer amount of death—horrid, unrestrained, unspeakable death—took all of Spearhead’s considerable willpower to push aside as currently unimportant. For the others though, he knew such force of personality would not come so easily. “Keep your eyes to the sky fillies and colt,” he ordered the Bearers and their unlikely companion. “This world is not for the uninitiated. Your Majesties, I can’t know whether you will dare look.”
“We hast seen the carnage of battle, and though it pains us at every turn, we art accustomed to it,” Luna replied, fanning out a wing in front of the seven other ponies to shield their eyes from happenstance.
“I’ve seen my fair share of battles in my time… but this, this… I have never seen corpses like this…” Chrysalis said, distant as she was forced to take in the entirety of the marred Ponyville.
“Take your wing away Princess,” Inky said roughly defiant, ducking out of the way of the extended appendage. “I will not shirk away from reality, no matter—“ His words were caught in his own mouth as he beheld just what had been wrought. He appeared paralyzed to Spearhead, who only offered a sigh of a knowing elder. “C’mon kid, now you know why I didn’t want you lookin’.”
“How bad is it really Princess?” Twilight asked, voicing the rising apprehension in all of the Bearers.
“We find it too horrible for words Twilight Sparkle,” Luna answered, continuing to lead them on. “It would be best for you all to see only when there is time to properly mourn.” Her statement was punctuated by spluttered coughing and retching from Inky somewhere behind them, whose hooves soon rejoined them with the addition of more ragged breathing.
“You won’t have to throw up again will you Inky?” Fluttershy asked him.
“I cannot be sure,” he replied. “This, this is beyond even what even the most convoluted imagination could invent,” he added, his voice shifting in tone as he likely turned his head from side to side.
“Just keep walking and don’t talk,” Chrysalis advised.” Singular, simple tasks will keep you from dwelling on what your eyes are seeing.”
“Sound suggestion that,” Spearhead said from the front of their group. Silence reigned then for a time, Twilight and the rest doing their utmost to avoid thinking about what the blue sky and Princess Luna’s wing prevented them from laying eyes upon. Whimpers went up from Rarity and Fluttershy as everypony began to notice their hooves becoming moist. Nopony dared voice the reason, for the only logical solution to present itself given the circumstances was too morbid to say aloud. Twilight took to muttering nonsense under her breath to take away the thoughts while the others, especially Rainbow, put on forced steely faces.
“Hold up!” Spearhead hissed without warning, his explanation soon thereafter explained by tremors in the ground and the more audible war cries and explosions. Only, to Twilight’s ears, something did not seem to quite match the original tone. The skies just ahead of them were marred now by not only the pulsing blast of the Device weapons, but the harsh grind and slide of metal against metal. This grating noise reverberated over the battlefield, followed swiftly by a slower, more prominent ring of one of the weapons. The shot was released, but no quake came beneath anypony’s hooves, nor were the screams of the struck renewed. Instead, an ominous flash of deep green seemed for a moment to drown out the light of the sun with its intensity before winking out of existence and the battle cries coming in fresh waves.
“What was that?” Fluttershy asked for everypony, each of their heads turning to Inky Jay.
“Answer colt,” Spearhead demanded. “This is already risky enough without knowing exactly what sort of weapons we’re going up against.”
“Your guess in this instance is as good as mine, perhaps better,” Inky said, genuinely perplexed. “I know of no weapon used by Aurora that generates such a light.”
Whatever the aged general would have answered was cut off, Rainbow Dash screaming at all of them, “DOWN!” They all tore for the nearest crater, leaping in amongst loose dirt as it was vibrated over their entire bodies. The House of a Thousand Fangs followed its effects, roaring mightily over the town as it took up a new position in the sky. The Changelings beneath it galloped within its shadow, and to a gasp from Pinkie muffled hastily by Applejack, a random collection of Earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi from both Armies took up positions alongside the enslaved Changelings.
“Traitors!” Spearhead swore under his breath. “Why in the name of Celestia would they choose to serve an alicorn they don’t even know?! I helped train some of those ponies! I recognize some!”
“Keep your head down,” Chrysalis hissed, grabbing Spearhead with a hoof and forcibly dragging him further into the hole. “They aren’t traitors. It looks as though they have suffered the same fate as my children.”
“I am sure Twilight Sparkle will confirm me in this,” Inky said. “What you are suggesting is not possible. Physically, literally impossible.”
“Both of thee art constraining thy minds to normal magic,” Luna whispered. “The loyalty of Equestrian citizens is legendary, and it wouldst take power manipulating that characteristic to cause what we see before us. Canst thou not think of any such power?”
“She wouldn’t dare!” Rainbow said, eyes narrowing. “And my Element gives loyalty anyway!”
“But it is a machine,” Inky said gravely, eyes locked with the princess. “And if a machine works in one way, it can also work equally well in reverse to achieve the opposite effect.”
“She’s rangin’ ‘em,” Applejack growled.
“But those are Elements of Harmony!” Twilight insisted. “Even a surrogate wouldn’t be able to be turned on its head like that.”
“We see no other explanation,” Luna said. “Be grateful she wouldst choose to use this as opposed the weapons that slaughter.”
“But they’re no better than the Changelings now,” Rarity said.
“Quiet!” Applejack ordered, and in the following relative silence, the crunching two sets of hooves could be heard at the edge of their hiding place. The hooves stopped. Spearhead nodded to Rainbow Dash, drawing a hoof across his horn then jerking it upward. Dash nodded in return and Spearhead’s eyes drifted shut in a warrior’s meditation. Only a few seconds passed, but they felt like hours as everypony hoped the hooves would begin crunching the gravel again as they carried their masters away. In that tremulous moment, Spearhead’s eyes snapped open again, a fire with unparalleled intensity burning therein. He leapt to his hooves, belting out a veteran’s war cry, and burst from the crater. Swinging one hoof out, he caught the neck of one of the unsuspecting foes, an Earth pony, in the crook of his leg. He flowed with his momentum, flipping his opponent onto his back, legs kicking furiously. He gave the pony no time to recover, rearing up and smashing his hooves down onto the soldier’s head. The guttural crack of bone was all he needed to hear before sprinting headlong into the second pony, this time a pegasus. Swatting away the spear leveled at his charging form with his horn, Spearhead rammed his whole weight into the pegasus’s chest. The soldier wheezed, and with practiced speed, Spearhead shoved his opponent’s head into a wall, knocking him unconscious like his fellow.
Drawing in a breath, Spearhead turned his head to see Rainbow Dash staring wide-eyed at the sprawled bodies of the ponies. “There will be more coming, and all the better for us if it draws them away from Aurora’s ship,” he said plainly to her, not bothering with the awe she displayed. Indeed, far better for her to be shocked by his speed and skill than to dwell too long on the carnal wreckage about them. Stalking to the edge of the crater, he said to the rest, “Come on. We have an opening and there’s no reason not to take it.”
Chrysalis was the first to clamber out of the hole, her eyes shifting immediately to the position Aurora had chosen for her craft. In a subtle flash of green, they changed from turquoise and green to yellow and blue: the eyes of a dragon. “I think Celestia’s forces have given Aurora more than she anticipated,” she said, smirking. “It would appear she is taking time to reorganize my Changelings and her new, stolen ponies.”
“Princess Celestia and Shining Armor will do the same,” Spearhead added as he ushered up Princess Luna. “We cannot afford not to take advantage of this lull in the fight, especially since Aurora has no idea we’re here.” The Bearers followed the princess, but no longer were they shielded from the carnage littering their once whole town. Pinkie Pie merely sat, stunned, silent tears dripping down her cheeks. Rarity breathed a barely audible “Oh!” and shut her lids tight. Fluttershy chose to try comforting Pinkie, the simple act keeping her distracted from the horrid images laid bare before them all. Applejack lowered her Stetson over her eyes, both to conceal her leaking tears and hide the brutality.
Only Twilight seemed completely unfazed; or rather, she did not feel the emotions she thought she ought to. Slowly, methodically, reverently her gaze took in every blood-sprayed wall and stone, every mangled corpse, and every severed limb. All of this cast an odd sense of calm over her, as if there was a superior peace in death even of the most violent kind. She felt emotionless, like a blackboard wiped clean of all its complex symbols. “Thou remind us of ourself when we first bore witness to the aftermath of battle,” Luna said soothingly to her. “Do not believe thou art cold of spirit, as we first did. For ponies like thyself and us, it is not nothing that we feel, but a great, oppressing weight on our spirit. It is a weight that beareth down upon our soul until we feel as though in a stupor: a stupor brought upon us as we acknowledge devastation with solemnity.”
“I just feel like I should cry,” Twilight said, unable to take her eyes off the bloody street.
“Do not force thyself to do that which is not in thy heart,” Luna replied. “Our silence is as much grief as the tears of others.” Privately, Luna added, And thou once again show us thy worthiness, and the appropriateness of our sister’s newest choice. Verdence wilt be glad at least.
“Rainbow Dash is taking it better than all of us,” Twilight managed a chuckle. “But she’s always been the toughest.”
“Miss Dash is handling it better than you all because she’s seen a small portion of this before,” Spearhead corrected her brusquely. Addressing Luna, he said, “Your Majesty, the Changeling Queen is suggesting a roundabout approach on Aurora’s ship. She’s changed her vision with her magic and says the prow is heavily damaged and that a good number of her warriors have been directed to a forward defense.”
“And what doth thou suggest General?” Luna asked.
“I’m inclined to agree with her,” Spearhead fired back without hesitation. “It’s more practical to risk coming into the line of fire of those guns than risk being flanked and cornered.
“You are forgetting something,” Inky chided them, coming back from where he had been watching the House of a Thousand Fangs hang like a sentinel in the sky. “Once we come close to the ship, magic and flight become useless. If we want any chance of safely making it aboard, we will need to eliminate any Changelings near the first teleportation Device. Success in that will depend on our ability to fight them at range.”
“Since when did you become a tactician colt?” Spearhead spat. “And besides, ponies of the guard like myself fight better without our magic. You don’t need to go ruffling your feathers about being hurt.”
“It has nothing to do with my physical well-being,” Inky retorted, “but the expediency of getting aboard. If we are forced to linger outside in a fight, Lady Aurora will have ample time to prepare the interior defenses which will then be exponentially more difficult to overcome.”
“We’re going around, and that’s final, unless her Majesty says otherwise,” Spearhead growled.
“We agree with our general,” Luna said simply. “Overconfidence in her Devices is Aurora’s weakness, and by overcoming them, we shalt send Aurora’s mind into disarray.”
“Get the rest of them together Miss Sparkle,” Spearhead said to Twilight, gruff but understanding. “If we don’t stop this now, they’ll have worse to mourn over.” A wordless nod was all Twilight offered in reply, her emotions still feeling heavily compacted into a crushing void. She placed a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder first, and their meeting eyes was all that was needed to convey Twilight’s message. Applejack rested her own hoof on Twilight’s shoulder for a brief moment before straightening her Stetson and moving to bring the others back on their hooves. Rainbow joined them, and their united friendship helped dispel the feelings of sadness and despair consuming Pinkie, Rarity, and Fluttershy. It was in grave silence that they rejoined Inky, Chrysalis, Spearhead, and Princess Luna; the general leading them down narrow alleys and urging them to quickly dart across roads one a time.
It was a relief for everypony, for even with the threat of being discovered by Aurora’s anti-Element ponies, the number of whole buildings meant there was little blood and no mutilated dead. Through all of their covert sneaking, Spearhead showed his skill as a soldier. No odd sound went unnoticed to him, no rush of wind was a coincidence of the world, every corner was a potential ambush, and all abandoned homes were potential hideouts. On two occasions his ingrained caution proved itself, he single-hoofedly subduing patrols sent out by Aurora. In one of these instances, even his age seemed to be have achieved insignificance. A light breeze had wafted over the group as they squeezed between two businesses, and without warning, Spearhead had leapt up and rebounded from wall to wall until he had disappeared with much shouting and commotion onto one of the roofs. Only a few moments later, a limp pegasi had tumbled down to land before Inky with a gruesome crack. He had been, amazingly, still conscious, before Rainbow bucked him in the back of the head. When Spearhead had rejoined them, startling everypony coming out a side door at the ground level, he appeared no worse for wear, his grim set jaw having not changed in the slightest.
They were closer than ever to Aurora’s vessel, coming out onto a street which curved rather than opening out into the small courtyard the ship hovered above, when Spearhead ground to a complete halt. His ears swiveled around several times, eyes narrowed for the intensity of his listening. Upon his ears returning to their normal pose, he shouted around the curve, “Name, company, and rank!”
“Is he a fool?!” Inky hissed for everypony.
As if in reply, a voice nearly as rough as Spearhead’s own but with a touch more refinement belted out, “Glint! Canter Company! Captain! Respond!”
“Spearhead! Lunar Company! General!” Spearhead answered with equal stiffness. “Bring your company around here Captain!”
“No can do sir!” was the reply. “We are under orders to detain you on sight.”
“Whose orders?!” Spearhead exploded, furious.
“From the Princess herself sir!” the pony called Glint said. “Now come quietly with whatever others that freak has handed to your command!”
“They are going to draw every anti-Element pony to us shouting like that,” Inky said angrily to Princess Luna. “Those fools need a sure sign. I would dare say their princess would be adequate.”
“Thy point hath been duly noted,” Luna murmured as she stepped around Spearhead and thusly around the corner. “Lay down thy guard!” she commanded. “We art not thy enemy. Now obey both of thy superiors and come to us.” As a tight group, four ponies came into view, each wielding a spear which they laid at Princess Luna’s hooves. They were all armored with a less cumbersome version of the silver and navy plate that marked the soldiers under Princess Luna’s forces, and rather than turn their coats all gray, the magic of the armor seemed to morph their coats to blend with the dominant color of their surroundings. As they stood presently, each was a light brown tinted with splotches of black. Upon presenting their spears, the ponies bowed before the Princess.
“Get your sorry flanks over here right now!” Spearhead fumed the moment they had risen and retrieved their weapons. “I expect more common sense out of special forces, especially you Glint!”
“Apologies sir! Just following orders sir!” the captain saluted. He was an Earth pony and his three subordinates were two mares and stallion. The mares were unicorn and thestral while the stallion was a pegasus.
“I don’t have to ask why the Princess thought it’d be a good idea to order my capture,” Spearhead said, “but I do want to confirm what we’ve been thinking. You have any intelligence out of Engineering?”
“Sir yes sir!” Glint answered.
“Stand down and explain,” Spearhead said.
“The weapon fire the armies encountered at first was just that, weapon fire,” Glint elaborated. “Engineering thinks it’s some kind of condensed concussion blast. The heat it’s giving off is just a by-product from the magic volume. But that other stuff… Engineering is doing its best to figure it all out. The effects just seem so random. The color of the blasts is never consistent, and we have cases of outright betrayal to simple loss of coordination in companies. They don’t cause any physical damage, but the effects open us up to anything else that dang ship has up its sleeve.”
“It’s clever really,” Chrysalis said, choosing that moment to reveal herself from behind a house. “Using the anti-Elements as weapons allows you to achieve complete domination without the desolation that war normally brings.”
“Sir!” Glint nearly screamed, his voice higher even than a mare’s. “Sir! Changeling Queen!”
“Don’t make me knock you upside the head Glint,” Spearhead scolded the captain. “Composure! The lot of you! She’s on our side. Miss Sparkle, you understand the mechanics of the weapons best. Give the basics to Glint.”
“Aurora created surrogate Elements of Harmony to remove the ambiguity of their users,” Twilight launched into the details. “Well, what we think is that she can reverse the magic flow the machines use to ignite the power of the Elements to create an opposite force. That’s what she’s using to turn ponies to her side. If a pony is loyal to Princess Celestia in a fight against Aurora, attacking them with loyalty’s reciprocal would turn them against the Princess.”
“How do you know that for sure?” Glint questioned her skeptically. “Sounds like a bit of stretch to me.”
“Of course it does,” Inky’s distinctive voice cut in. “You have a simple soldier’s mind, so of course it would seem ridiculously impossible to you. Any well-learned pony would, however, see the reality of her explanation.”
“We know because we helped make them dear,” Rarity said more kindly to Glint, who was eyeing Inky with extreme dislike.
“We’ve been on the inside Captain,” Spearhead added. “Your training tells you that we know more than you, no matter the absurdity of the situation.”
“Permission to speak freely sir?” the thestral mare asked. Spearhead nodded, and she continued with a slight northern accent, “What are you all doing so close to it then if you know what it can do?”
“We’re gonna go in there and stop Aurora from hurting any more ponies,” Pinkie answered for the general.
“That’s a simple way of saying it,” Chrysalis huffed. “Our mission is to capture Aurora, disable her ship, and free my fellow Changelings.”
“That’s quite the undertaking Ma’am,” the thestral answered with a chuckle. “You’ll need more than just passionate civilians if you want to even come close to breaking the Changeling line alone.” Chrysalis allowed herself a small grin, proud of her subjects despite the circumstances.
“I could ask you guys the same thing,” Rainbow said, pointing a hoof at the military contingent.
“Spearhead’s said the princess would hold the army back for a while.”
“I trust you can count,” Inky said deridingly to Rainbow. “Four is no army. But by the look of them, neither are they soldiers of the common kind.”
“I know they’re not the army,” Rainbow said under her breath, gritting her teeth.
“They’re part of a special forces company, Jay. Weren't you listening?” Chrysalis answered Inky, equally cynical. “Is four the typical formation?” she posed the question to Glint.
“Yes Ma’am,” the captain answered.
“Hm, Changeling special forces are grouped as sets of five,” she mused aloud.
“What didst our sister send thy team to do?” Luan asked. “Simple reconnaissance canst be completed by soldiers less talented than thyselves.”
“Not sure if you noticed your Majesty, not sure where you were,” Glint replied, “but there were several pegasi who tried boardin’ the ship from above. They do it all the time at sea. Problem was, once they got on, they couldn’t get off. General Armor’s got an estimate of four dozen pegasi trapped on board, give or take. Our mission’s to get inside, free ‘em, and rout the enemy from the inside.”
“Good luck with that,” Inky said flatly.
“Inky Jay is her scribe, and he…” Twilight began, only to have the unicorn in Glint’s team lower his horn with a flare of magic at its tip.
“At ease soldier,” Spearhead sighed. “I don’t like it any more than the rest of us. But what Miss Sparkle was trying to say before you interrupted with your petty show of force, which you so idiotically displayed before your Commander in Chief Princess Luna, is that Mr. Jay is our one-shot at getting inside without ravaging the ship entirely.” The unicorn extinguished his magic and brought his head up with an almost audible snap, ears twitching in embarrassment. “Now, Captain Glint, with you and your team here, we have a far better chance of success.”
“I’m not sure what you mean sir,” Glint replied. “You have two monarchs on your side. I’m not sure exactly what my team can offer, sir.”
“Our combat magic becomes just as useless as yours when we get anywhere near that cursed ship,” Chrysalis said. “Until that changes, we are all, for better or worse, equal.”
“The fastest way to the underside of the ship is through the Changeling defense,” Spearhead elaborated. “But there are too many on high alert to make it even close to possible. Our second option would be to come from the side and face the guns.”
“You definitely don’t want to do that, sir,” the unicorn burst out, eyes hesitantly wandering away from Spearhead’s own when the general fixed him with a hard stare.
“Now with you here Captain,” he continued, “we don’t have to weigh the options.”
“We’ll take the guns and we’ll move first,” Glint replied without hesitation. “It’ll draw the attention of the Changelings too and give you more time.”
“When I activate the teleportation Devices, everypony must be quick,” Inky added. “Changelings are just as capable of entering as you or me and we will already be faced with a horde of them on the inside without the addition of these outside.”
“We can stay outside if we need to,” Glint’s thestral mare said. “It might be better that way anyhow. Draw away the defensive line an’ all.”
“We wilt not have thee put thyselves at greater risk if thou need not do so,” Luna commanded. “If thou canst not follow us inside, flee with all haste.”
“Your Majesty,” Glint saluted, grim faced. Turning to his general, he said, “Get into a good position, then wait for the shots to start.”
“You don’t have to tell me that soldier,” Spearhead grunted before marching off with a wave of his hoof for everypony else to come behind.
They were a block or so away from having met Glint and still walking in Spearhead’s confident, silent stride, when Inky spoke up, “Guard yourselves. We have just come close enough to feel the effects of Lady Aurora’s defensive fields.” Rainbow Dash swore, inspecting her wings carefully until she snorted in disgust and let them droop ever so slightly. Twilight began the mental exercise of separating herself from her magic pool and once secure in her own preparations (having become quite skilled at the art), explained to Rarity how she could do the same. Princess Luna, Chrysalis, and Spearhead showed no signs of being affected, though the sensation had to be worse for the queen and princess, what with their greater skill and raw power. Pinkie Pie and Applejack, having only ever experienced the effect once or twice and even then only mildly as their Earth pony magic was far more subtle than that of the unicorns or pegasi, merely shivered as the suppressing effect began to build. Fluttershy, amongst them all, seemed to deal with the change best. Perhaps she was too preoccupied with the House of a Thousand Fangs looming ever closer to truly notice the disabling of her wings, but regardless, she paid no attention to the detriment.
At last, Spearhead disappeared from off the street between two of the larger houses in one of the nicer homes in Ponyville. Everypony else followed him, crowding into a half-alley: the way to the courtyard blocked only by a barrier barely tall enough to be considered a wall and consequently easily jumped. “Looks like she’s got most of her anti-Element ponies out and about,” Spearhead whispered from where his eyes peaked over the wall’s edge. “None down on the ground. Don’t see any of ‘em on overwatch anymore either. She’s probably sent ‘em out to find where Princess Celestia’s massing her troops. I only see Changelings.”
“Can you see any formation?” Chrysalis hissed, only to be answered by silence as Spearhead searched.
“Not anything I recognize from the Invasion anyway,” Spearhead finally answered. “But that doesn’t mean squat.”
“Out of the way,” Chrysalis muttered, her vibrant turquoise eyes joining Spearhead’s yellow ones. Again a brief silence reigned in Chrysalis’s severe observation until she scoffed, “Pfft, a complete lack of organizational ability. I should have known. She has no strategic sense at all.”
“Thou shouldst not insult her so much,” Luna said gravely. “Were it not for her lack of talent in that field, we might not be here to discuss it.”
“Touché,” Chrysalis shrugged, stepping away from the barrier. “At least I can tell we now have an advantage. Before, it was like looking at a mass of moving black, even with dragon vision.”
“I would think you would be accustomed to the horde-like qualities of your subjects,” Inky said.
“Only in battle,” Chrysalis said with superior flair. “Changeling soldiers bind themselves with their queen and each other in a fight to become a single, coordinated unit. Otherwise, they are all unique like any other self-aware creature.”
“Everypony up! Up now!” Spearhead growled at all of them. “I can hear the mechanics working!” Any words died on everypony’s lips as they all scrabbled into a better position to leap the wall and gallop ahead. In the relative silence, the collective chittering of Changelings could be heard beneath the deep rumble of the ship engines, and marking these overlying tones were harsh and brief but numerous cries of metal shifting against metal. Then there was stillness for a fraction of a moment that seemed to drag itself out forever; a feeling that the world teetered on the edge and that everything in the next few moments would decide its fate.
Twilight could hear nothing save the screaming build of magical energy even as she watched Spearhead’s mouth bellow orders to run. Her hooves placed themselves one before the other in a fierce gallop over which she had no control, her focus now drawn to the brilliant explosion of orange light coming from her left. Her hooves continued to work for and without her. Her eyes shifted to the courtyard expanding before her as the walls of the homes disappeared to her gallop. Cruel red magic bolts shrieked their fury before pelting the ground like rain on newly fallen snow. Hundreds of Changelings rushed as far as they could to defend their false master, hissing and growling battle cries. The grating metal sounded again, but she could no longer watch their new comrades’ futile endeavor.
A howl of injury from Pinkie Pie penetrated her senses, and all the sound and feeling of the world returned. She had no time to think, a Changeling from the front defensive was already attempting to slice her with a wicked cut of his curved horn. He never had the chance, for Spearhead charged the Changeling from the side, ramming his powerful shoulders into his foe’s ribs and knocking him unconscious with a single hoof-swipe to the face. Twilight wasted no time, eyes darting among the chaos, trying to find Pinkie. For once, her friend’s bright coat color proved helpful, Twilight spotting her surrounded by six Changelings on all sides. She was still smiling, and as Twilight neared, heard her say, “So I guess you guys don’t wanna play fair do ya?”
At that moment, both Rarity and Twilight attacked the Changelings, Rarity leaping and tackling one while Twilight speared another in the flank with her horn. Pulling away from the screeching Changeling, Twilight swatted another in the face, satisfied with the crack of his jaw dislocating. Pinkie, against whatever injury she had received, barreled into a fourth Changeling, unknowling slaying him with a solid blow crushing his wind-pipe. The remaining two Changelings Rarity expertly managed, slipping beneath them as they galloped at her from opposite sides and allowing them to careen straight into one another. Twilight would have asked after Pinkie’s wound, but had no time as Princess Luna stepped between her and Rarity. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words were drowned away when a second blinding flare of orange magic collided with the ground in a frenzy of sound. “... the teleportation Device!” the Princess’s words met Twilight’s ears as the din of the attack faded. “Inky Jay hath reached the teleportation Device!” she repeated, louder this time. Her words were punctuated when the shadow of the ship was lit not by the evil light of war magic, but the white shine of a teleporting spell. “Go! We and Chrysalis shall hold them off last.”
Twilight was about to argue when Chrysalis herself joined the princess and bellowed, “Go! Don’t be so stupid!” She accentuated her point when, with a single blow, she and Luna brought low six armored Changelings. “Go!” both rulers roared again, this time to retreating backs as Twilight helped a now wincing and limping Pinkie Pie run to the glow of the teleportation beam. Twice as they ran, Rarity bucked Changelings away from them, leaving the path clear.
“Get ready Pinkie!” Twilight yelled as she shoved her friend into the white. “Rarity!” Twilight’s fellow unicorn followed Pinkie, vanishing as the light took her into the ship. About to leap into the beam herself, Twilight felt a leg forced out from under her, her face landing hard on the compacted earth. She rolled onto her back, only to see Changeling lift a warrior’s hoof to end her hold on consciousness. In a wild flash, everything Shining Armor had ever tried to teach her about self-defense returned. Her own two fore-hooves flashed up, blocking the Changeling’s blow. But with trained speed, he pulled his hoof back and attacked a second time. This one Twilight dodged, rolling onto her side, and retaliating with a buck to her enemy’s hind leg. He stumbled, and Twilight had her advantage. She placed a hoof in the curve of his horn and pushed down. Pressure point exploited, the Changeling reeled back in pain, giving Twilight the chance to scramble to her hooves and all but throw herself into the beam of pure, white light.
The world of wood and brass that was the interior of Aurora’s ship materialized in waves before Twilight as she tumbled from the teleportation Device. A lone Changeling was still hissing somewhere near her, but it never completed its cry, Applejack pounding it with a powerful buck. Rainbow Dash appeared over her, offering a helpful hoof from where she hovered. Taking it, Twilight let her eyes scan her friends. Save for Pinkie, who Fluttershy was presently fussing over, none of her friends had been seriously injured (a miracle in its own right). She was about to trot over to Fluttershy to check on Pinkie when the Device that had so ungraciously thrown her onto the floor expelled first Chrysalis then Princess Luna in rapid succession.
Inky Jay raced past them from wherever he had been in the room, his hooves deftly unhinging parts near the Device’s nozzle, removing its plate covering, and detaching a convoluted mess of seventeen channels. What exactly he did with the channels Twilight did not know, for she was drawn to the sound of Chrysalis hissing curses under her breath. The queen was inspecting the carapace that wrapped around her midsection as it oozed her green blood from between the scales. “Dang officer knew exactly where to stick his horn,” she muttered, but stopped when she noticed Twilight staring.
“How bad is it?” she asked hesitantly, averting her gaze.
“Not life threatening,” Chrysalis sighed, drawing herself up to her full and considerable height. “But the damage means I need to be extra careful of attacks on my side.”
“Oh, are you injured?” Fluttershy asked, coming up to them. Over her back lay two pairs of saddle bags bulging with various medical supplies, though they looked nothing like any Equestrian first-aid kits Twilight had ever seen.
“I’m fine,” Chrysalis growled initially, but upon looking more closely at Fluttershy’s equipment, asked, “Is that Changeling gauze?”
“I don’t really know,” Fluttershy admitted, retrieving a roll from the bags. “General Spearhead was so brave when we came in here. He, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack knocked all the Changelings unconscious and dragged them into a room below the deck. Rainbow and AJ came back with all this stuff saying they found it in there.”
“It is the Changeling gauze we brought with us,” Chrysalis confirmed for herself. “I suppose it would be a stupid idea not to take the opportunity to be bandaged up. Go ahead, but be sure to put the side with the green specks against the wound.”
“Oh goodness, is it safe to use on nor... normal ponies?” Fluttershy stammered, eyes shifting back where she had left Pinkie.
“Better,” Chrysalis replied matter-of-factly. “It doesn’t just stop blood from leaking out of your body, it acts like a seal on a pipe to keep the blood flowing properly until the vessels can heal.”
“Wonderful!” Fluttershy said, her wings flapping briefly in excitement. She set about her work, and Twilight’s attention shifted to Princess Luna, who was listening to an animated report by Rainbow about the resistance they had encountered below.
“Spearhead’s outside watchin’ for any Changelings or ponies that come up top,” Rainbow said. “There weren’t any on the deck when we went outside, but now that we’ve taken out some Changelings that were on the ship, Aurora’s bound to send some to get us.”
“Or she wilt redirect them to fortifying defensive positions,” Luna countered. “Aurora is not a war master, to be true, but we believe her character wilt rather we seek out our own doom to justify herself.”
“Either way, I don’t think there’s any way to avoid heavy fighting,” Twilight inteposed herself into the conversation.
“We wilt have less reistance the closer we come to our goal,” Luna said. “Remember thy lessons Twilight Sparkle. Where is a shield of magic weakest?”
“At its source,” Twilight fired back automatically. “But these fields aren’t barriers. They’re invisible for one, and we can pass in and out without the assistance of a caster.”
“But for once, magic theory resteth in our favor,” Luna explained. “Though they may not be an impenetrable shield as thy brother casteth, these fields Aurora hath created still serve to block something, and for that they will wilt be weakest from whence they are cast.”
“So... no Changelings around the Devices?” Rainbow guessed.
“If the princess is right, yes, and some small magic and flight ability around the ones blocking those,” Twilight answered, though her tone remained cautiously skeptical.
Rainbow’s eyes brightened at that possibility, but said nothing, for Inky Jay shouted rather loudly, “DONE!” When everypony looked at him expectantly he elaborated, “I’ve disassembled the teleportation channel set. Even if the Changelings or ponies come this way to reactivate the Device, Lady Aurora herself will have to come to place the channels back in their proper position.”
“And will she?” Rarity asked pointedly.
“It is hardly likely,” Inky’s voice scratched. “My hypothesis is that Lady Aurora has connected her mind to the whole of the ship rather than have the Changelings crew it. That being the case, she will not leave her station to repair so minor a Device.”
“Fluttershy, retrieve our general please,” Luna turned her attention to the pegasus. “It is time for us to part company.” Fluttershy returned with Spearhead in short order, and everypony silently grouped themselves into their respective teams. “My group and Chrysalis and Rainbow Dash shalt be able to locate our goals without extensive guidance,” Luna said. “Seeking out the weakest portion of the effect ought to be sufficient.”
“Just be sure you are beneath the Devices when you find them,” Inky advised. “That will mean you will have to crawl into the maintenance shafts of the fifth floor. Once in those, the slats supporting the Devices will be obvious and you can lower them down to disengage them.”
“General Spearhead,” Twilight said to him, “the Devices powering the engines are in a room on the fifth deck as well. It looks like a long hall and there are Devices everywhere with control towers that should allow you to turn them off.”
“She is right,” Inky affirmed for Spearhead. “My advice for you after you have found and dealt with your particular Device sets is to teleport out immediately. Looking for anypony else will provide only a greater risk of death, especially if Lady Aurora takes the House of a Thousand Fangs back into combat without Changelings and dampening fields.”
“And this whole thing’s gonna go SHIIIRRRRR——BOOOM!” Pinkie explained, miming something crashing into the ground with her hooves, “when Spearhead and Applejack get through.”
“Once I’ve safely teleported Rainbow Dash out, I’ll return for anypony who can’t make it,” Chrysalis assured them. “And if I can’t do that, I’ll order my Changelings to take anypony they find with them when they teleport out.”
“Good then, let’s do this,” Rainbow said, placing her hoof out, to which everypony joined his or hers.
“Good luck everypony,” Luna said, they all rushing out of the teleportation center, across the planked deck, and down into various openings to the bowels of the ship. _____________________________________________________________________________
For Rainbow Dash, concentration on any one thing only came in the heat of the moment. She was not in any way like Twilight or Applejack, who possessed a bizarre talent for turning their attention on or off whenever they needed it. No, Rainbow’s ability to focus was tied directly to her need at the time, and if running alongside Chrysalis through endlessly identical hallways toward certain battle was not enough to bring out her concentration, she was not the fastest flier in Equestria. Her toned body rested in an alert middle ground between tense from her situation to relaxed from their constant use. Every movement of her eyes was to search out a possible movement of black carapace.
Dash glanced at her sister in arms only once, and Chrysalis had moved beyond simple concentration. She was driven: determined. Her pupils were slits, lids narrowed, and every hoof-fall landed against the wooden floor with vicious purpose. Though Rainbow ran parallel with Chrysalis, the Changeling queen led them, her head abruptly turning a few moments before a new corridor would open up. Through it all, neither of them spoke to one another. They were united in purpose far more than Dash herself would have ever suspected possible, and through that connection—that equal feeling of duty—words were not needed to express their commitment to success.
“Changeling Battleguards around the next left,” Chrysalis said plainly a few paces before their next turn. Dash only nodded and rather than slow her pace, accelerated. She hurtled around the bend, three of the so-called Battleguards standing at attention before a flight of stairs to the fourth deck. Even as she took in their builds and the navy blue armor they wore, Rainbow was already acting out an offensive maneuver. It was normally an obstacle course trick, but she felt it was just as, if not more, useful in this instance. Just as the Battleguards hissed at her sudden presence, Dash leapt at the right wall, using what little natural gliding power still rested in her wings to bring her up higher. Just before she would have painfully smashed into the wood, she flipped herself around and bucked the wall, catapulting herself at an even greater velocity into the left-most Changeling.
They crashed and rolled in a snarling, hissing, and grunting heap. Dash having anticipated the roll was able to stop herself atop the the Battleguard and bring a heavy hoof into his snout. Only when he completely failed to react did Rainbow’s focus begin to fade. Taking advantage of her inactivity, the Changeling swung a powerful right hook into her ear, knocking her off him. By then, Chrysalis had joined Rainbow and was engaged with the other Battleguards simultaneously. Dash had not time to observe the details of their fight, for her own opponent was swiftly bearing down on her, fangs ready to inject with the assimilation venom. The strongest self-preservation instincts combined with her limited knowledge of military technique and without conscious decision, Rainbow reacted.
Finding use for having been flung onto her back, Dash snapped her hind legs into a powerful dual buck to the underside of the Battleguard’s chin. Something (likely his jaw) cracked and he reeled back, mildly stunned from her attack. But whatever kept him from feeling pain continued to hold precedence, for he showed no signs of injury as Dash tackled him to the ground. Their fight became a flurry of hooves as both swung, countered, dodged, and left glancing blows. Dash was nursing a growing shoulder pain, her foe strong as ever, when Chrysalis roared, “Dash! Move!” Not bothering to ask why, Rainbow hurled herself away from the Battleguard, and moments later, one of his fellows was sent hurtling through the air by some device of Chrysalis’s screaming madly. He crashed unceremoniously into Dash’s former combatant, and before either could recover, she leapt back toward them and knocked their heads together, rendering them unconscious. She turned from her victory to witness the remaining Battleguard crushed against the wall by Chrysalis full weight, falling faint when she stood again.
“This is a good sign,” Chrysalis said when she had caught a few breaths. “I only brought a handful of the elite Battleguards and taking three out of the fight means we will have fewer to face when we reach the Devices.”
“Why didn’t they react to being injured though? Is that something Aurora’s field did?” Rainbow asked, picking up their pace again as they moved down into the fourth deck.
“Just like the armor of Celestia and Luna’s Royal Guard,” Chrysalis said, “Battleguard armor gives the wearer certain unique characteristics. A lack of pain for all but the worst wounds is one of the those traits.”
“Any others I should know about?” Rainbow asked.
“It gives their eye shields magical protection, so don’t try damaging those,” Chrysalis said shortly.
“What about tactics?” Rainbow breathed, the both of them having started into a run once again. “Is there anything—they might—DUCK!” Rainbow flattened her body to the floor, Chrysalis forced to ram herself against the wall. A crackling blast of turquoise magic laced with black electricity surged through the air where the two had only just been. So close was the hurtling burst, Rainbow was sure she felt the edges of her mane singed.
“Wonderful,” Chrysalis growled, voice heavy with sarcasm. “She has smaller ones inside.”
“At least it doesn’t blow everything up,” Rainbow replied, glancing behind her where the magic had dissipated against the wall. “Whenever you’re ready, by the way.”
“I am a more obvious target,” Chrysalis said hastily. “I can provide a momentary distraction for you to get close.”
“Done,” Rainbow answered, tensing her muscles in preparation to leap back out into the open from behind the support beam. Chrysalis’s eyes appeared barely open so narrow was her glare when she darted into the enemy’s firing line, postured aggressively. Her horn ignited in its acid green glow that, despite its uselessness, gave her a superior intimidating aura. The queen’s stance must have daunted the enemies further down the hall, for when Rainbow flung her galloping hooves back into danger, they still had not opened fire.
Chrysalis was not far from right in thinking Aurora had placed smaller guns inside her ship. Placed squarely in the center of the corridor was a tripod mounted Device manned by two normal Changeling warriors. Occupied by Chrysalis’s threatening appearance, they only turned the weapon in Dash’s direction when she was already close enough to drop onto her back and slide the rest of the way to the cannon. With the momentum of her slide and power in her hind legs, Rainbow bucked one of the legs of the tripod, sending it toppling backward and into the Changeling operating its trigger. The second was not so easily knocked unconscious, jumping atop Dash and landing a solid hoof to her chest. She felt the wind driven from her chest, the world flashing between light and dark as she coughed for air. No doubt her vulnerability would have meant her death were she alone, but Chrysalis was at her side before the Changeling soldier could inflict any more harm on her. Rainbow was unable to see what exactly happened as she rolled onto all four hooves, but judging by the terrified screaming chitter of the Changeling, Chrysalis had completely overwhelmed her former subordinate.
“You are not too seriously injured are you?” Chrysalis asked Rainbow, coming to her side. “I saw him hit you, but I could not tell how hard.”
“I’m fine,” Dash forced out the answer, placing a hoof on her chest as it rattled painfully with an intake of air.
“Smaller breaths for now,” Chrysalis instructed. “Keep them small and we can keep on.”
“I know... I just... Ahh!” Rainbow tried saying, wincing again when the blow stung more than it previously had. “Chill, I’m fine,” she reiterated upon seeing Chrysalis’s concerned look. “I just need to find the right pace to keep it from hurting.” The two stood silently a moment more as Dash altered her breathing rate, then equally silent, continued their determined penetration deeper into Aurora’s flying fortress. ______________________________________________________________________________
“She...! How doth she...?! How?!” Luna asked Rarity in bewilderment, to which the seamstress had no answer other than a shrug. They stood some distance behind Pinkie Pie, watching as she danced. Eight of a Changeling squadron of ten lay around her, twitching in unconsciousness. The remaining two were running from Pinkie in desperate, confused panic. How exactly she had managed to take on the entire patrol herself, neither Rarity nor Luna could be certain. But having lived in the same town and gone to many of Pinkie’s eccentric parties, Rarity was far less inclined to question ‘how’ when said question concerned Pinkie. She was a law unto herself, and as it was in this instance to everypony’s benefit, Rarity saw no actual reason to question. “She shalt get herself into more trouble than she can handle if she continues on in that manner,” Luna worried.
“Don’t fret, Princess,” Rarity said as they watched the remaining two Changelings buffeted into submission by Pinkie’s erratic, energetic dancing. “If Pinkie Pie needs our help, she won’t hesitate to ask.” Luna nodded, doing her best to convince herself of that truth.
After a few more minutes in which there was a conspicuous lack of Changeling defenders, Pinkie ceased to dance and took to walking on the princess’s other side. Her eyes, curiosity ever blooming in their sky-blue depths, wandered over each brass fixture and every oddly shaped knot in the wood planks. Luna and Rarity kept equal silence, though theirs was born of alertness: watching for even a hint of black carapace.
“Um, guys?” Pinkie’s voice cut through the silence like a knife through cheese. “There’s something wrong with this door.”
“What door, darling?” Rarity asked impatiently. “Any part of these walls could be a door and we don’t have time to waste on looking at odd things in an odd place.”
“Yes, she is right,” Luna added. “Our fortune hath been great up unto this point, and it would be foolish to waste it in stopping to inspect something on the fourth deck when our objective lies one deck below.”
“No, you don’t get it,” Pinkie said, shoving against a portion of the wall with all her might. “It’s...locked....!” she gasped when the wall would not give.
“Then that means it’s a wall Pinkie,” Rarity said gently but pointedly.
“No, no, I believe she may have found something of interest,” Luna amended her earlier statement, tone piqued with curiosity. “The dimensions art as Twilight Sparkle described. Miss Rarity, thou canst see the cuts for the door quite plainly.”
“It might be a decoy,” Rarity replied as she inspected the portion of wall by which the other two mares had become intrigued.
“Thou may be correct, but we believe that hidden door in addition to decoy versions is excessive, even for Aurora,” Luna said.
“There’s got to be a hidden switch to unlock it somewhere,” Pinkie insisted, stomping against the floor with all four hooves. “Help the princess check the walls, Rarity.” There was a moment of intensive rapping against the wood by all three ponies, yielding no results. “Oh, come on! I know there’s something here!” Pinkie said frustratedly when even her most bizarre techniques (which involved staring at the wood until it gave up its secrets) failed to reveal the switch.
“I hate to say this, but I told you there was nothing here,” Rarity huffed. “Now we have wasted a dangerous amount of time. We are lucky we haven’t been ambushed already.”
“One moment, Bearer of Generosity,” Luna corrected her. “We believe we have found it.” With a confident hoof, she grasped one of the many brass fixtures which seemed to serve no function whatsoever and pulled down. The wall mounted shape obeyed Luna’s instruction, rewarding her with a satisfying chink as some mechanism slid out of place. “Try the door now, Miss Pie.”
Pinkie grinned widely at Princess Luna before pushing the door with both hooves. As if it had never been locked, the door depressed and with a single shove of Pinkie’s enthusiastic forelegs slid open. Pinkie’s jaw dropped at the sight that greeted them while Rarity gasped and put a hoof to her nose to block the smell issuing from the room. Luna’s only reaction was a slow uttered, “Careful.”
Before them, crammed into what appeared to be storage closet for various laboratory supplies, was a collection of around two dozen Changelings. They were alive, but only just. Many appeared to have been beaten harshly, damage to their carapaces clearly visible in the form of severe cracks and dents and welts and swelling on their legs. They had long since given up changing their mane and tail colors to the uniform grey, preserving what little strength they still possessed. Luna suspected malnutrition both of the love and carnal kind was also at work, judging by the almost catatonic states of many of them. “Do my eyes deceive me?” one of the Changelings managed to croak out, making his stumbling way out of the closet only to collapse at Luna’s hooves. His luminescent blue eye shields were retracted, revealing brilliant orange and yellow eyes not unlike Chrysalis’s.
“Who art thou?” Luna asked stonily, the effort to do so before so pathetic a creature proving more difficult than she had thought. All the same, Changelings were notorious for not only their biological skill of deception, but their psychological trickery as well. That trait she was sure would not have been eroded by Aurora’s control of them.
“I am...was...Captain Hept, commander of Her Majesty the Queen Chrysalis’s contigent brought aboard this acursed ship,” the Changeling said, his voice barely audible for weakness.
“And the others?” Luna continued in her interrogation.
“Princess, hurry! I can hear a small patrol coming from below!” Rarity warned.
“These are my... fellow commanders... subordinate captains,” Hept breathed. “For tactical reasons... we are given... exemption... from our Queen’s hive battle mind. It is part... of our promotions. We were... attacked by our... soldiers after that... abomination.... took them. She left us to starve to death.”
“We canst not help thee presently, though we wouldst wish to do so dearly,” Luna said, Rarity whimpering behind her as the marching of hooves became impossible to ignore. “How long canst thou survive?”
“We can all enter... stasis... for the time being,” Hept answered. “But we will... need medical attention... regardless.”
“Then stay hidden,” Luna commanded. “We wilt not forget thee, and once we and thy Queen hath restored her, thou shalt receive all that thou require. Now go back, we are closing the door.”
“May Faust guide your... blows,” the commander struggled to say before inching back into the closet and whispering to those still awake.
“THEY’RE HERE!” Rarity screamed before forcing herself to leap into the mass of unknown size that had just rounded the bend. She crashed into three Changelings, who hissed in shock. Any recovery they might have made was rendered useless by Pinkie, who threw herself into the fray as though she were a ninja (she had somehow acquired a black face mask). Rarity disarmed one of her foes with a jab at his shoulders, dislocating one with a grisly crunch. The remaining Changelings had been taken on by the Princess of the Night herself. Her superior height and weight gave her both increased range wither swipes and more power in said blows. Three of her seven opponents had been knocked brutally against one another before any of them could react. However, the remaining four had been far enough behind that they had enough time to gain the bearing of the intruders. They squared in stillness with Luna while Pinkie and Rarity worked to completely subdue the three and one of Luna’s former enemies who had not fainted crashing into his brethren. Luna’s eyes flashed and the Changelings’ self-imposed homogenous manes stood on end. They were all poised to strike, and Luna mistakenly lunged first.
Lowering her longer horn, she made to run through the middle of them, breaking their formation. Anticipating such a maneuver, all four Changelings leapt into the air as she charged beneath them, descending back down upon her back in euphoric glee. Luna flailed and snorted as their hooked legs dug into her skin as she desperately attempted to shake them off. Nothing availed her, and she could feel her fury building despite her best efforts to the contrary. She knew they were not, but the Changelings’ way of fighting her seemed eerily similar to the manner in which the Pravum corrupted fought. She could not shake the memories, and with them, the enraged battle prowess she had displayed in those horrible times. Her ethereal mane flared with a momentary blue flash, the whites of her eyes became solid orange, her pupils became snake-like slits, and her soft turquoise irises appeared to leak blue tears of waving power that vanished before passing her chin. Drawing upon her latent strength, her mane rippled in command of her thoughts, beating off of her back all four Changelings. One of them she caught in a tendril from her mane, squeezing him until he fell limp. The others she furiously held off with her mane split into writhing coils, three for each Changeling. They succumbed in short order, as Luna knew they would. She had faced down over thirty Pravum infected and claimed victory. Three Changelings were nothing.
And as she realized as much, she immediately regretted her change. She had allowed the fierceness of a struggle, fear, memory, and battle mania to dominate her decisions. Her one respite was that her back faced Rarity and Pinkie Pie, and that the most they would have seen was her flared mane. With a controlled, deep breath, she withdrew into herself, allowing her mane to become whole once again and her eyes to fade from their natural appearance to the subdued tone she had adopted for so many thousands of years. She turned round hoping her assumptions regarding the two Bearers were correct.
Their eyes were wide in shock and newfound respect, but that aside, they did not seem to have seen Luna’s complete alteration. She breathed a mental sigh of relief and said, “We believe our general underestimated thy skill in battle. Neither of thee art true soldiers, but thou certainly art not helpless.”
“You were quite amazing yourself, Princess,” Rarity said, still trying to level her own rapid breathing. “Why do you even need guard ponies when you are so strong yourself.”
“Strong we may be,” Luna said, again thankful she did not have to lie or dodge the question, “but we art still but one. We couldst not face, say, an entire legion. We still need our guards.”
“It was still—!” and Pinkie proceeded to act out with appropriate sound effects her interpretation of a powerful soldier pony.
“We art glad thou find us admirable,” Luna cracked a smile. “But we must continue. We art near the—!” All of them let out an unexpected yelp as they were thrown onto their sides. Aurora’s vessel had jolted into action, its thrusters firing their strongest burst simultaneously. It was preparing to meet Celestia’s regrouped army once again. “Come!” Luna ordered with greater urgency than she had previously displayed. “If we art swift enough, we shalt lessen the casualties of this second engagement.” Her two companions nodded, firm looks on their faces as they galloped after her, around a corner and toward the final winding staircase into the fifth deck. ______________________________________________________________________________
“Idiot,” Spearhead muttered as he smashed a slow Changeling’s head into a brass plate on the wall. He had personally lost count of the number of Changelings he had left sprawled, twitching in pain, throughout the four decks above him. In his mind, Aurora was either incredibly dense from a strategic standpoint or she was... well, to be exact he did not think she was anything other than strategically dense. Judging by his and Applejack’s encounters with Changeling defenders thus far, she had organized the forces still aboard the ship (which he was beginning to think was a fraction of those deployed on the ground) into patrols of two sizes: four and seven. The few defended positions they had had the misfortune to come across had been easily overcome with simple coordinated teamwork, and Spearhead was gradually becoming more impressed with Applejack than with most of his subordinates who had been in the Night Guard for three years.
He could not, however, ignore Aurora’s choice of soldiers. If nothing else, the Changelings they had fought were highly disciplined and worked with more uniformity than any guard regiment. Without his magic to provide even limited shielding, both he and Applejack had suffered some significant injury. He had been bruised heavily on both flanks, making walking a pain, and had also suffered a long, though thankfully shallow, gash along his right side. He believed Applejack was faring worse than him, but she was holding her composure better than any civilian in a war situation he had ever seen. Her legs were all heavily criss-crossed by bleeding cuts, many of which would scar he knew, and she was still holding shut one eye. Spearhead had not made mention of it due to the possibility of saving it, but he knew it was likely doctors would remove it.
“I’m glad there ain’t bee no ponies fightin’ us,” Applejack spoke up randomly as they walked through the halls, looking for anything that might indicate the entrance to the engine room. “Sure, we’ve had ta deal with Changelin’s and them dang turrets, but I don’ think I could fight otha ponies.”
“Since she’s had to keep the Changelings around the ship, she’s probably using them for ranged combat,” Spearhead replied tonelessly.
“Yeah,” Applejack said, “but I’m still glad I don’ have ta fight ‘em.”
“You don’t feel it’s wrong to fight Changelings then?” Spearhead asked, feeling himself descending into a conversation he had had with one too many guard recruits.
“Well, no,” Applejack replied. “It’s different when it ain’t yer own kind.”
“It shouldn’t,” Spearhead replied crossly. “War is war, and even if it’s inevitable or necessary, it’s a bucking awful thing. Never think fighting is different just because you’re not fighting other ponies.”
“Aw, no, I didn’ mean it like tha’,” Applejack amended. “I ain’t thrilled ‘bout havin’ to fight ‘em anymore than anypony, ‘specially thinkin’ ‘bout why they’re havin’ ta fight. I jus’ don’ think I’d be able to follow through ‘gainst another pony.”
“Well, at least you don’t use those stupid definitives like all the soldiers back in Canterlot,” Spearhead said. “Drives me crazy to no end when they say ‘never’ or ‘always’.”
Applejack chuckled, “Well, my brother used ta be like that until Nightmare Moon came back.”
“I think I know him—! HA HA! YES! BUCKING YES!” Spearhead bellowed out his own interruption as he and Applejack were thrown off their hooves as the House of a Thousand Fangs surged forward.
“What the hay? I don’ get it?” Applejack grunted, standing back up.
“Listen!” Spearhead said excitedly, and with her silence, a distinctive hum could be heard echoing throughout the fifth deck. “That’s magic, and lot’s of it. She’s going to lead us right to those bucking engines.”
“But it’s comin’ from everywhere,” Applejack replied, head moving in an attempt to find the source of the perpetuating vibration. “It ain’t doin’ much leadin’ if we can’t even tell where exactly it’s comin’ from.”
“Just follow me,” Spearhead said, setting off in a aggressive trot. “As Her Majesty’s guard captain, I’ve tracked more subtle magic trails than this. Just watch our backs.”
“I dunno...! I got three sets of hoofsteps aboves us!” Applejack warned.
“Then be extra quiet!” Spearhead hissed. “If they don’t know we’re down here, they won’t come looking.” His comment was followed by a second tremor rocking the halls of the ship. Countless smaller concussive starts rapped the exterior, most of their force lost by the time they had reached Applejack and Spearhead. “She’s back in combat,” the older general muttered to himself. To Applejack he added, “Screw guard duty. Start shoving your hooves on the walls for a door. If we don’t move faster, Princess Celestia’s armies might destroy the engines from the outside; and I’d rather not find out if that causes the ship to explode or not.”
“Got it,” AJ answered, immediately swiping at various portions of the wall with all four legs at speeds only attainable from bucking apple trees at the height of the harvest season. For his part, Spearhead took a more measured approach, using his ears to listen for breaks in the humming’s intensity. He knew there were four engine rooms and that they were each larger than some banquet halls. But just as well, he also was aware that the rooms would be distinct. That said, he theorized the walls separating each room ought to cause a change, however miniscule, in the acoustics. His plan was a fool proof one exempting outside influences, but as was his experience, outside influences delighted in absolutely wrecking fool proof plans. The crash of battle both from and against the House of a Thousand Fangs was generating an uneven din that served to effectively block any difference Spearhead’s ears could pick up on. He growled in frustration, stamping a hoof against the floor.
“Holy... bucking... apples...” Applejack’s near whispered awe somehow penetrated the consuming noise around them. “I think I found it!” she shouted more clearly, though Spearhead was already running to investigate. Upon looking into the door Applejack had opened, Spearhead could not deny she had indeed found one of the engine rooms.
“Well get your flank moving!” Spearhead shouted at the still stunned Applejack, bumping her onto the catwalk/stairs leading down onto the floor. “We don’t have time to stare!”
“I know! I know!” she protested as she trotted as fast as she was able without tripping over her own hooves. “It’s jus’, when Twi said it was big... I didn’ think she meant this big.”
“Canterlot Hall is bigger,” Spearhead retorted shortly. “Now get on that second console, and we’ll see if we can’t figure out how to shut these things down.” He stood stark and tense before the first console and just as Twilight had instructed, tapped a forehoof against the small panel in the floor. To him, the grating gears and whining sound of the emerging pedestal and forthcoming magic was not so clear as Celestia’s student had described, but he attributed that to more of the outside battle than his own hearing. In a flash of light, the magical diagram of the engine layout appeared as though it were a hologram. Rather than inspect more closely the individual Devices providing the after-burn thrust, Spearhead opted for a more detailed map of the centralizing channels. It would, after all, be more advantageous for them if there was a master disconnect for each of the Device clusters. A simple brush of his hoof against the upper portion of the diagram expanded that portion, certain areas giving off a greater light and accentuated by text in an alphabet Spearhead did not recognize.
“I can’t read nothin’,” Applejack called to him from her console, worried. “It’s in all these funky letters. Are these even letters?” Spearhead said nothing in reply. When he had at first decided to become a Royal Guard (at the time for Princess Celestia), part of the training had involved exposure to foreign cultures in case of traveling with the princess on a political trip. Other languages and rune sets were the surest barrier to understanding a different race, but Spearhead had found that simple things like instructions and yes or no answers could be interpreted with relatively little difficulty if one only looked carefully enough at other details.
His assumption was not wrong, for even though the design was completely original and the runes used for instruction alien, placement and length revealed all that he needed to know. “Filly, there should be a group of eight latches around the central pipe. They’ll be in sets of four and if I’m guessing right, unlocking all eight should drop a connective ring out of the pipe. That should cut the flow of magic.”
“Right, hang on for jus’ a second,” Applejack nodded, squeezing around the backside of one of the Device clusters. “Well, I thank I can see what yer talkin’ ‘bout. But they’re too high up fer me ta reach.”
“Get out of there then,” Spearhead grunted. “Give me some time to... think... Out of the way, filly!” Without waiting to be sure Applejack had backpedaled away from the Devices, Spearhead frantically worked to unhook one of the magic machines from its cluster. Upon being freed, the weighted brass instrument dropped to the floor with a hollow thud.
“Watcha got in mind?” Applejack queried, glancing from the Device to Spearhead and back to the Device. “Anything I can do ta help?”
“Watch the entrance,” he replied. “There’s no way something as important as an engine part coming undone’ll go unnoticed.” Applejack did as she was told, giving Spearhead the time he needed to pry open the access plate. The interior housed no channels like Spearhead had been hoping, instead playing host to at least a dozen power storage spheres. His intention had been to completely melt the central pipe with the thrust Device, but it seemed the channels which produced the thrust were housed in the piping itself, thus rendering each cluster one massive Device which required all individual parts to function. In a mad scramble for some form of inspiration, Spearhead’s mind leapt back to his colthood school days and the one thing that was continually stressed to young unicorns. Magic, raw magic, was a unifying force. There had been other implications about morality that they always stressed afterward, but the principle itself was sound and a foundation for magic theory and law. And for once, theory and law, not experience, were giving him the answer to his predicament.
“Filly,” he said, “I’ve got power here, and I’ll need your help to use it.”
“Uh, tha’ don’ look like it’ll be doin’ much,” Applejack glanced behind her.
“Of course it won’t. Not by itself,” Spearhead snapped impatiently. “All it needs is direction, and I’m going to give it. If I remember my elementary teachers right, the magic will respond to my own and take it’s place since I can’t use it.”
“Ya need me ta hold it somewhere,” Applejack guessed, prying out one of the spheres.
“Tip of my horn,” Spearhead replied. Handling the sphere as though it were a bomb capable of detonating at any random moment, Applejack let the sphere ever so slightly touch the end of Spearhead’s horn. The general’s eyes narrowed and he drew in a deep breath. Applejack almost yelped when the sphere began to vibrate violently, and she thought she had dropped it. Her hoof definitely yanked back; only, the sphere remained where she had held it, levitating under its own power and washing both itself and Spearhead’s horn in a clear, magical aura. Before she could completely comprehend how Spearhead was using magic despite Aurora’s fields, similar warping glows appeared around each of the latches Spearhead had found. The stallion’s eyes twitched and in response, the locks all simultaneously flipped open, dropping a narrow portions of the piping onto the floor and utterly silencing the pervading hum the Devices had previously been generating. “One down and three to go,” Spearhead said, his voice now colored with that air of a warrior and commander confident in victory.
“The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” Applejack agreed.
“And this ship is big if nothing else,” Spearhead nodded, the two of them ascending the stairs, Spearhead still connected to the power sphere. _____________________________________________________________________________
Another Changeling galloped away, screeching and hollering what were no doubt curses in his native tongue. Princess Luna and Rarity loosed magic from their horns at him again, the blue beams singing his retreating carapace. Behind them, Pinkie Pie flung herself like the crazy mare she was, her hooves crunching against their numerous Changeling opponents almost rhythmically. As Luna had predicted, upon coming closer to the Devices generating the magic inhibition field, the effects had lessened. Now so near their goal, both she and Rarity had recovered rudimentary control over their latent unicorn powers. They could not direct their magic into anything specific like levitation, but they possessed enough control to dredge up a basic stinging bolt. It was not particularly damaging, but it did provide a mode by which to fight at range: a skill which was becoming more necessary the closer they moved toward the Devices.
It had not taken long for Aurora to see their intention, and as such, they were no longer running up against standard patrols. Whole Changeling squadrons were being redirected to their location, many laden with defensive turrets. These Pinkie proved to expert in evading, her erratic movements impossible for the gun teams to predict. On the other hoof, Luna and Rarity had rapidly learned to use their magic bolts to halt squadrons before becoming engaged in a close-quarters brawl. Rather than hurl random shots that truly had little offensive power, both mares aimed for the Changelings’ eye plates. The shields were defensive chitin, and thus the bolts did little actual damage, but the flash of the magic was more than effective as a disorienting burst of light. Left so muddled, subduing whole Changeling squadrons became far more feasible.
Still, their telepathic connection to one another meant they were adapting to the trick. Rarity groaned as she funneled yet another bolt from her horn, striking the back of the fleeing Changeling’s neck. She hit something important, for the soldier tripped awkwardly before collapsing in an unmoving heap. “Well placed, Rarity,” Luna commended her, turning her head back to see Pinkie smack a hoof atop the last of her foes’ heads. “Remind us to never get into a fight with thee, Pinkie Pie.”
“I’m not that good,” Pinkie shrugged. “For some reason, these silly Changelings just won’t try to defend themselves.”
“No, Pinkie, we assure thee that thou art more potent a combatant than thou realize,” Luna insisted.
“Princess... I,” Rarity tried saying only to end with a startled wince. Both Pinkie and Luna’s heads jerked around to her, watching as she drew a hoof away from her left flank. It was a hoof coated in a thin layer of blood. “Oh... oh...” Rarity began to hyperventilate upon seeing the blood spattered over her normally pristine white coat. “I... how bad is it?” She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes tight, not willing to inspect the injury herself.
“How couldst thou have not felt this thy injury?” Luna asked her, bewildered. The damage to her flank was a severe burn having peeled away the first two layers of skin, leaving flesh exposed to the air and blood free to run out in rivulets. It covered the side of her haunch and even extended up slightly to her stomach area. Luna had seen many wounds of the type before, a product of instinctual defensive reactions in cornered unicorns using only the most rudimentary forms of magic. Only in this instance, such crude magic was all that was possessed by the Changelings and themselves.
“I’m not quite sure, Princess,” Rarity winced, “but I certainly... ow!... feel it now. It burns horribly.”
“Well you’re taking it really well, Rarity,” Pinkie said comfortingly. “If it were me, I’d probably be running around screaming like a mad pony.”
“If thy wound were anything remotely similar to this,” Luna said seriously, “we doubt thou wouldst be walking, much less running. Lie down Rarity. Attempting to move wilt only worsen the damage.”
“I will not, Princess,” Rarity replied, defiant. “Taking a leaf out of Rainbow Dash’s book, however rare that is, we are all in this together and will not survive without each other.”
“We admire thy nobility, but practicality must take precedence here,” Luna smiled. “We shalt have Lady Pie stay with thee to protect against any Changelings that may come thy way. We know she wilt do an admirable job.”
“You can count on me, Princess Luna!” Pinkie affirmed happily. “If any Changeling tries to hurt Rarity, I’ll make ‘em wish they’d learned how to turn that frown upside down when they were fillies!”
“Thou needest not worry on our account,” Luna said to Rarity when she would have protested Luna going on alone. “We art an alicorn and capable of handling ourselves quite well.” Without giving either of them any greater chance to attempt to convince her otherwise, Luna wheeled around and set off down the hall at an impressive gallop. The Device casting the dampening field was close, and she could almost feel her horn anticipating being able to use fully fledged magic once again. As she flung her head from side to side as she ran, her horn flared with significantly less magic inhibition, and only a few steps backward pointed her toward the false wall which blocked her entrance. Not intending to waste time with another possibly sealed door, Luna allowed her full powers to blossom within her. Her eyes changed, altering hue and flowing power running from them while her mane became a greater extension of her will. Slicing it into multiple thin vines, Luna directed her power into the cracks into the wood; and with a single tug of her mind, splintered the door into thousands of tiny fragments.
No Changelings or other of Aurora’s inventions greeted her as she brushed wood chips aside from beneath her hooves. Her multi-colored eyes scanned the rather blank room in a clean sweep. It was devoid of any adornment save two objects which rested at its center. The first was an arrangement of Devices looking quite like five flowers stacked one atop the other with the Devices as the petals. The center of the uppermost flower was composed of a single nozzle perpetually unleashing what appeared to be a volatile beam of harsh gold magic. Occasionally a burst of green would interrupt the flow, but it did seem a detriment to its functioning. The second object was firmly attached to the ceiling of the room. It was a ten pointed star of sorts, with its edges tapering off into the ceiling itself and the center a receiving nozzle for the gold magic.
In the span of only a few seconds, several options of disassembly presented themselves, but she settled on the least destructive and possibly safest option. It had been eons since she had allowed her true power as an alicorn to surface and as she once again frayed her mane into dexterous tendrils in a less frenzied environment, she relished in the fact that skill had not deserted her. As per her mental instruction, each band of her mane proceeded to unlatch the Devices from the central casting nozzle, and with every one removed, the central beam lessened in its intensity and her connection with magic was gradually restored. At last, the final Device was removed and the beam disintegrated entirely. Now with magic once again at her disposal, Luna retreated her latent power within herself and began to retrace her steps to Pinkie and Rarity. Teleporting down to a hospital was more suicidal than staying aboard the ship at this point, but Rarity would still need what little medical knowledge and magic Luna could lend to her burn. _____________________________________________________________________________
“Hold!” Chrysalis ordered. Rainbow skidded to a halt, glancing back to the queen in perplexity.
“What’s up? You feelin’ something I can’t?” she asked.
“Quiet!” Chrysalis growled, eyes roving everywhere without looking at anything. “If I am not mistaken... No, I was right!” Her face became considerably brighter and she took in a large, contented breath.
“Gonna cue me in anytime soon?” Rainbow asked, no qualms about showing her displeasure at being left in the dark.
“I believe Aurora was forced to improvise her control over my Children,” Chrysalis explained. “I felt some of the interference fall away when the barrier around Ponyville was destroyed, but I only thought it was a result of a power differential at the time. I was wrong. I can feel my magic again, but I can also hear the thoughts of my subjects.”
“So what does that mean? Aside from my awesome wings coming back to the party, I mean?” Dash questioned Chrysalis, flexing her wings experimentally with a confident smirk on her face.
“That the interference I am experiencing was a layered effect,” Chrysalis explained impatiently. “It was achieved by building it into fields already in place. By eliminating this final barrier, we ought to be taking out something else rather critical to the ship’s functioning.”
“Aww, yeah,” Rainbow jumped into the air to hover. “This just makes things even better for us.”
“And more dangerous,” Chrysalis cautioned, now walking as opposed to running. “If my magic is restored to me, it means all of my Children now possess their offensive powers as well.”
“Chill,” Rainbow said. “I can outfly any old spell any day. They’ll never know what hit ‘em.”
“What? There’s no Changeling’s anywhere around and we’ve done just fine up until now,” Rainbow passed her comment off. “Honestly, you might not wanna use that—AWW HAY!” She yelled vehemently as a Changeling tackled her onto the ground and close to two dozen more burst from hidden maintenance hatches near the ceiling. Chrysalis growled unintelligibly, dropping herself into a portal before her former subjects could close the gap.
“I know you can hear me Chrysalis!” every one of the Changelings said in their own unique voices. “Abandon this mission against me and turn your energy against our common foe.”
“Don’t listen to her, Chrysalis!” Rainbow shouted, wrestling her attacker off and knocking him into unconsciousness. “Princess Celestia doesn’t—Agh!” She yanked her foreleg away from a Changeling who had dived to upend her and brought both her forehooves down on his head.
“Equestria is nothing without Celestia! Reliance of such a kind is abhorrent!” the Changeling’s collectively bellowed Aurora’s words. They retreated from Rainbow for but a moment, regrouping into a far more formidable column. Just as she was about to rocket at them, the world behind Dash was lit with brilliant green light and joined by Chrysalis’s furious voice.
“It is called faith, you hag!” she thundered. “And it is the most admirable of traits!” With so powered a statement, Chrysalis stepped around Rainbow, lowering her lit horn. As a chittering mass, the Changeling column charged only to be met by a funnel shaped blast of crackling magic from Chrysalis. It engulfed them, throwing their limp, dazed bodies to the side like unwanted toys. Chrysalis raised herself back to her full height, allowing the magic to recede from her horn as she took a long, calming breath. “Aurora is becoming more reckless, the closer we get to stopping her,” she said.
“Come on, we’re not just close,” Rainbow said, struggling oddly with her own, normally well-paced, intakes of air. “Now that we’ve all got our wings and magic back, she’s got nothin’ on us.”
“Are you unhurt?” Chrysalis asked. “I sensed one Changeling’s brief euphoria at striking you before you subdued him.”
“I didn’t think any of them got me,” Dash replied, worried as she began checking over her body for any serious injuries. She was twisting around to check her sides when the dizziness tilted her world in bizarre ways. She blinked her eyes and shook her head, but nothing was averting it. It was like only one other thing she had ever experienced and that not so long ago. With a sense of rapidly blurring dread, she looked down at her leg the Changeling had lunged for. No, that sharp pinch of pain had not been his legs catching her own. That had been his fangs puncturing her skin. It had happened again. “Bit...” was all Dash managed to say to Chrysalis. “Like before.” The queen—her queen—swore something as Dash’s senses all but deserted her and blackness and the roughness of the wood became all that she could distinctly feel. ______________________________________________________________________________
Twilight and Fluttershy emerged once more into the artificial light of the halls of the House of a Thousand Fangs. Rather than go directly to Aurora by the corridors, Inky Jay was leading them through the maintenance shafts that crisscrossed the ship. The narrow spaces were filled with cold brass shined so bright it reflected any of the little light which streamed in from the deck above into hundreds of miniature pinpricks. Even so, the reflections of the many miles of brass channels running on their every side gave no true light, and the still darkness was unnerving at the very least.
But Inky’s decision to use the cramped tunnels was not without merit. They had not run across any Changeling patrols, despite having heard their hooves and chittering both above and below them on several occasions. Taking the more surreptitious route had also allowed Fluttershy to keep most of her composure. With no Changelings barring their fangs and lunging for a death blow, she had slowly been gaining more confidence in the escapade. Twilight on the other hoof could not say the same for herself. She had not been disillusioned about the sophistication of Aurora’s machines, but seeing the engineering prowess required to keep the ship at peak efficiency had triggered in her a new respect for Aurora. Before, it had been grudging: able to acknowledge her ingenuity in her chosen field of magic but still leery of her intentions considering her general hatred of Princess Celestia. But she had never felt a fear of Aurora. She was, after all in normal unicorn terms, magically inept. Now though, seeing everything she had built and that she would take any measures necessary to defend it, she was reminded that Aurora Streak was indeed an alicorn and that with such a status came a certain fear. It was not the kind of fear that paralyzed. Rather, Twilight felt that in facing Aurora, she had to have the same mindset as when she had confronted Nightmare Moon. Cautious but aggressive; perceptive but intuitive.
Inky would try to reason with his mistress, Twilight knew, but inwardly she had already thrown away that course of action as one that would succeed. Regardless of who or what had initiated the battle, Aurora was taking advantage of the situation now to destroy Princess Celestia. And as an impassioned pony herself, Twilight knew that nothing rational would turn her aside from that opportunity.
All of these thoughts flew her as she half jumped, half fell from the maintenance shaft into the corridor. Fluttershy followed far more gracefully, her wings providing extra balance. “Um, how much farther do we have to go?” she asked Inky as he surveyed the corridor to straighten his bearings.
“One moment,” he replied shortly, eyes still roaming. “There are several stations which contain Devices that act as redirection fields for many of the ship’s functions,” he began elaborating, though it sounded more like he was attempting to clear his own thoughts. “Lady Aurora possess bangles that collect and interact with those stations. Considering we have yet to be incinerated by the Devices in the walls, she must be controlling only the essential systems and is actually at the station. There is no need for us to cross through the maintenance hatches any longer. They would only take us beyond the station.”
“You know the way then?” Twilight assumed.
“Of course,” Inky replied. He began walking away with no further speech, expecting Fluttershy and Twilight to follow.
They would have, excepting that Fluttershy asked Twilight nervously, “Um, Twilight, what is noise? Could you ask Inky please?”
“What noise?” Twilight said, swiveling her head trying to catch whatever Fluttershy was hearing. “I don’t—Wah!” Twilight grunted as her body was knocked against the floor after losing her balance. Inky and Fluttershy, being more lithe as pegasi, merely splayed their stance wider as Aurora’s fortress began to breath the life of its roaring engines once again.
“She’s on the move,” Inky said, now more urgent than before. “The armies about to confront one another again and we cannot have a second slaughter!” He rushed back to where Twilight was still trying to steady herself as the ship seemed to bank to the left, forcefully grasping her hoof and pulling her into a surer stance. “Run as fast as you can,” he said, turning and barreling away even as the hall was shaken by a severe impact somewhere outside. Inky showed no inhibition about his turns this way and opening this or that door. He was on course for one goal and knew exactly how to get there. But for Twilight, struggling to stay upright as Princess Celestia’s forces pounded ever more harshly against Aurora’s vessel, there was a distinct lack of difficulty about his decisions: as though all of them ought to have come up against some difficulty, whether it be in form of Changeling guards or a wrong turn in the maze-like corridors.
Her apprehension was put to rest as a thick, pink beam of magic sliced through the wood floor directly in front of her. She screamed, throwing herself onto her back in an effort to avoid running straight into the shower of splinters and brass piping. The sound of the blast and its cracking of the superstructure rang in Twilight’s ears for longer than she thought it should, but had faded by the time Fluttershy was fussing frantically over her. “Oh my! Twilight! Are you awake!? Twilight?”
“I’m okay,” she replied with a groan. “Are you hurt?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” Fluttershy answered, relieved.
“Can you jump?” Inky hollered at them, from the opposite side of the gap now in the floor. As the ship surged through the air, the break in its hull was sucking air from the interior like a gale louder than the spell that had created it.
“Yeah, just hold on for a second!” Twilight yelled back. To Fluttershy, she said, “Okay, you go first Fluttershy. Don’t look down through it and I’ll be right behind you.”
“Oh dear,” Fluttershy whimpered, a small squeal escaping as she neared the edge (though to her credit she followed Twilight’s advice and did not look down).
“Come on!” Inky insisted. “We have to move!”
“Oh please, Princess Celestia save me!” Fluttershy said, shutting her eyes tight and leaping over the gap. As she neared the opposite edge, Twilight took a running start and followed suit. As chance would have, they both touched down at the same time.
“Don’t stop,” Inky ordered, voice now steely despite its gravel. Twilight and Fluttershy nodded wordlessly and began their gallop after him. More hallways and hidden entrances later, the battle had escalated even above its initial peak. Unicorn spells from below thudded menacingly against the ship and Aurora’s guns would reply in deeper kind. The screams of dying pegasi and hisses of slain Changelings offered a brutal, sickening backdrop that penetrated the battle whenever there seemed to be a lull in the magic volleys. Such lulls were never long enough for Twilight to truly be able to listen to the cries of dead, but they existed nonetheless and served to constantly remind her of the utter destruction happening beneath her hooves. In truth, she was glad she had something to concentrate upon, something to do, else she feared she would vomit from the savagery of it all.
“We’re close,” Inky said just loud enough for her to hear. “The door to the central command station is at the end of the hall on our next left.” Twilight shook her head in understanding, knowing Inky would see it. At the moment, she was too concentrated on her higher breath rate. All three of them tore around the corner and would have kept running as hard as they had been if Inky had not shouted terrified gibberish and skidded back around, leaving no doubt Twilight and Fluttershy were to follow. Her friend immediately snapped after Inky, not even bothering to inquire why, but Twilight’s curiosity kept her head straight ahead just long enough to see what had caused Inky Jay to turn tail hollering nonsense.
Two Changelings stood in the hall, their backs facing Twilight. That was all: two lone Changelings. But when their heads shifted in her direction and their bodies rotated to face her, she understood Inky’s reaction. Advancing on her were creatures of nightmares only soldiers could dream. From the base of their skulls to the end of their tailbone was laid a spine made of brass, their green blood dried around the edges where it had been forcefully attached. Their manes had been completely sliced away, the wound still dripping onto the floor, to make room for seven sets of brass wires traveling from the top of the spine to a plate riddled with gems of varying colors. Said plate had been crudely anchored inside a gouged eye socket, dried blood again ringing the edges. The sight of the monstrosities froze Twilight in her own body, unable to move, unable to scream. And she could not avoid observing more of their additions. Strapped around their torso and connected to the brass spine was a ring mounting two stripped down Devices: one on either side. The Devices only added to the horror of the creatures. Without the casings, the twisted channels appeared to be horrid artificial blood vessels forcefully ripped out of the Changelings’ bodies and placed outside.
“Twilight! Oh no!” Twilight barely registered somepony calling her name. She could not move as the Changelings began moving toward her faster, the Devices adjusting their angle to always be directed at her. Their sound seemed to have replaced the Changelings’ chittering: a horrid clicking like a clock ticking irregularly and far too fast. “Twilight! What are you doin—AHHHHHHHH!” Fluttershy could not help but scream as she tried to pull Twilight back only to see the mutilated Changelings.
Her friend’s scream jolted Twilight back into her body, and grabbing Fluttershy, she hurled them both around the corner. Their tails had only just disappeared from the Changelings’ line of sight when Device whines sounded through the corridor, proceeded by a withering barrage of turquoise, black laced magic. Twilight winced as the spells sparked and flickered against the opposite wall, the Changelings’ images and her close escape from certain death playing endlessly in her mind. “That would explain the lack of defensive turrets,” Inky muttered.
“What… What did she do to them?” Twilight manage to ask, her disgust coating her words.
“Be glad she rushed it,” Inky replied, eyes watching intently for if the Changelings would venture outside the hall they guarded. When their deformed heads did not edge out, he continued, “Those are augmentation harnesses, and that is unfortunately all I know. She was still experimenting when we arrived here and only had three sets with which she was satisfied. She had not begun extensive testing, ergo I had taken no notes on them and know very little.”
“Their… their eyes,” Fluttershy whispered in horror. “She took one of their eyes…”
“What do you mean? I only saw the spine,” Inky asked perplexed.
“She’s gouged out an eye and jammed some horrid brass plate with little gems in it in the socket,” Twilight replied angrily, that being the only way she could keep composure and still describe the monsters.
“That would be how she is commanding them more directly with her bangles,” Inky said, “and as such, it is that which we must destroy.”
“Okay then, Inky,” Twilight spat, “you go around the corner and try to get that close to them! We need to... wait… do you feel that?” Her voice had gone from biting sarcasm to genuine curiosity.
“Feel what?” Inky asked. “There is nothing…” He stopped himself, gingerly stretching out his wings as though they were some dangerous animal that might bite him at any moment. Twilight was ahead of him, delving deep into her magic reservoir and finding that her connection to it was restored. Restored. She was a unicorn in full once again and Princess Luna, Rarity, and Pinkie had succeeded. The odds had tilted in their favor and Twilight was not about to waste time that could reverse that trend. She lit her horn, dredging up magical power of the magnitude she had used against the Ursa Minor. Her magic screaming for release, Twilight loosed her spell. Six comets of lavender light burst from her horn, sweeping around the corner with elegant purpose. All three of them heard the Changelings’ augmentations clicking in response to the new threat, and in short order, turquoise light flared from the hall followed by a shower of violet sparks.
“Behind!” Inky warned, whirling in the direction they had come defensively. Twilight glanced back to see two squads of three Changelings advancing on them in a fierce gallop.
“Can you distract them for me?” Twilight asked him. “I need time to build a spell they can’t counter!”
“That will depend,” Inky replied, stretching his wings experimentally as the Changelings continued their charge. “How much time will you need?”
“Get me five minutes,” Twilight said.
“Done,” Inky answered firmly before launching into the little space above Twilight’s head. Now equally armed with their own offensive magic, the six approaching Changelings aimed their own green bolts at Inky. Twilight only watched him long enough to see him barrel to the side and down into their midst with much shocked hissing.
“Fluttershy! Help Inky! He won’t be able to take on six Changelings alone!” Twilight ordered, closing her eyes tight as she began to recall various spells, disassemble them, and recombine their various elements.
“O… Okay, I’ll try,” Fluttershy replied. “Um, hi…” Twilight heard her say meekly.
She would have yelled at Fluttershy in frustration had not Inky’s voice grunted, “Thanks,” in response and a crunch of a Changeling’s face being pummeled followed. Now at least somewhat confident she had the time she needed, Twilight re-submerged herself in her difficult exercise. Casting a spell was simple, since most unicorns had not trouble with a plethora of basic skills like levitation. Even understanding the mechanics of magic and spell casting was not difficult if one could set one’s mind on learning them. The truly strenuous aspect of magic, and one Princess Celestia had been impressing upon Twilight for close to three years now, was spell deconstruction and reconstruction: the ability to understand a spell so completely as to be able to isolate its individual components and add them to other components to build a spell with completely new properties.
Thankfully, Twilight need not go that far. A stun spell would work just as well on the mutilated Changelings as it would on normal ones. The trick would be getting them past the Device cannons they wielded. Meticulously, Twilight recalled multiple spells from her memory, taking an aversion directive from one, a deflection barrier from another, and an erratic motion imperative from a third. These elements she purposed to add to her basic stun beam, an arduous task as the stun spell was so basic as to have few points of exposure that would allow additives. She groaned and winced as she grappled with the forced combination. Only when she felt the rigged spell was prepared did her sense open again to the world. She wished they had not.
Fluttershy was all but crying from some injury to her wing, judging by the way she was huddled in a corner cradling it. Inky was still battling two of the Changelings, his fur not matted by blood from multiple scrape wounds. And Twilight herself could only yell out in pain at every movement. The spell she had managed to cobble together was highly unstable and every step she took produced a wracking stab of pain in her head. But she pushed forward. She pushed on because she could hear the rumble of the ship’s engines and the immense blasts of its canon fire. She knew it had to be stopped and Aurora controlled that.
Each step forward was agonizing, and with that pain, she gained more determination to push past it. A smirk of confidence appeared on her face when she reached the hall, facing the two horribly deformed Changelings once again. “Watch a true magician at work,” she said under her breath, hoping Aurora could hear. But before she could release her pent up spell, a faint buzz sounded past her ears and a dull thump sounded in the wall behind her. She had no time to register just what the Changelings before her had done. Twilight cried out in shock and pain as she was slammed away from her opponent and the spell died on her horn. She rolled uncontrolled for a brief few seconds, and when she finally stopped and was able to brush her mane out of her eyes, the world seemed to freeze.
Inky stood where she had been, eyes locked with her own and wings still open from his dash to push her away. Embedded in the wall behind next to him were the weapons meant to destroy her: Device grenades identical to those Inky had used in the bagel shop. His eyes closed in silent acceptance, and Twilight could only scream denial as the timers ended. ______________________________________________________________________________
White. Even behind his closed eyelids, the world became a blinding white nothingness. The sheer power of the detonation obliterated its own sound. But the agony remained. That Inky still felt. His hooves were lifted off the ground for him, throwing him like a rag doll several merciless feet. Heat gripped his side and metal, wood, and concussive force tore at his body. He only felt the beginnings of the anguish before he lost his grip on consciousness. ______________________________________________________________________________
Fire and shards of Device and wood planks engulfed Inky and drowned away Twilight’s scream. She could feel raw fury building in her. In some dark corner of her mind, she had just witnessed Aurora murder the one pony who was utterly devoted to her; betray him without a second’s hesitation. The rage within her burst out, raising her to her hooves, and reigniting her earlier concocted spell without an iota of difficulty. She blasted it through the corner separating her and the Changelings, watching as it twisted and curved to dodge their counter spells. The satisfaction she had expected to receive upon seeing them fall never came. Instead, as their limp bodies collapsed with the clanging of the brass and her anger drained away, Twilight could only feel dread.
Now without any explosions, magic, or combatants to fill the hall of the House of a Thousand Fangs with their noise, all that could be heard was the gentle patter of water as it fell from numerous mangled Devices atop the pile of wood that had once been a wall. Twilight gingerly made her way to what was now Inky’s grave, wincing as bruises over her side protested the motion. Drawing nearer, the water began to fall on her as well, plastering her dirt-filled mane to her body. She was not sure why she began to do it, or even why she continued, but she gradually pulled away the wood beams and chunks of brass. Something inside protested that a need to see Inky’s corpse was morbid, but her emotions won out. She needed closure about his death just like anypony needed it.
She nearly dropped a beam she had been tugging aside when it revealed Inky’s broken body… still breathing. She was certain it was a play of the water falling in her eyes. Nopony should have been able to survive an explosion like that. But as she looked, she realized Inky had not truly survived the explosion. He was lying in a pool of his own blood sickeningly diluted with water, thousands of splinters of varying sizes riddling his side. And so coated in blood was his exposed side, that Twilight did not at first see that his wing was missing. Not even a stump was left. The explosion had ripped it away and incinerated it, leaving him to bleed out through the grievous wound. And yet he still lived. “Fluttershy…” Twilight whispered.
“Oh Twilight!” Fluttershy was crying. “He died! Why did he do that!? You could have made a shield right?!”
“I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “But he’s not dead, not yet.” Fluttershy yelped upon seeing him, her hooves going to her mouth in shock.
“Is there anything we can… I mean, can he… can we save him?” she asked.
“No,” Twilight answered solemnly. “He’s already lost too much blood.” The two mares watched his barely visible breaths, unable to leave until they knew he was truly gone. Fluttershy moved over and gripped Twilight over the shoulder, and though Twilight knew she meant well, her attempt to hold back tears only became more difficult.
“Twi…light… Spar…kle…” the voice was broken, scratchy, and beyond weak, but it was undeniably Inky’s own. Only a single eye was open, the one lying closest the floor, and it was wandering frantically trying to find another conscious soul. Twilight unsteadily knelt down where he could see her. She had never talked with somepony in the last throws of life. Inky’s eye closed and opened methodically upon seeing her. “I am dying,” he managed to say.
“Yes, you are,” Twilight replied, doing her best to hold her composure for his sake. She could imagine how he would berate her for crying over his death. “Do your hurt?”
“I… barely conscious,” he heaved. “Can’t feel much… of…anything.”
“That’s good,” Twilight tried to sound optimistic.
“I made a promise… to myself,” Inky said, “to not… be… afraid of death. Now… that I am… close again… I fear it even more… I don’t believe… we can ever… not fear it… after all.” Twilight was not exactly sure how to respond, instead occupying herself with a spell stemming the flow of blood out his wingless side. “Don’t… waste…energy… on me!” Inky tried to growl in protest. “Aurora… save her… save her from… herself…” He might have said more, but strength failed him, and he drifted into unconsciousness again. For what seemed like hours, Twilight could only stare at his limp body as it’s breathing slowly became more and more shallow. She wanted to cry, to vent... anything, something! But nothing seemed adequate. Nopony would understand.
“At least it will happen… when he’s… sleeping,” Fluttershy said, jolting Twilight out of her conflicted thoughts.
“He’s right though,” Twilight murmured to her herself. “Nopony else knows where we are in this ship.” Turning to Fluttershy she said, “Stay here with him. I don’t want him to die alone, and you’re injured anyway.”
“Be careful, Twilight,” Fluttershy implored her. “Nopony wants you to die too.”
“I will. And I won’t die. Not because of her,” Twilight said, standing and marching into the hall that lead to the one thing that would be resolution for them all, for better or worse. ______________________________________________________________________________
A second, much smaller hall that was more or less a buffer allowed Twilight access to a second gateway. Behind it would be Aurora and whatever machinations she had in store for anypony able to threaten her personally. Twilight slid it to the side without any second-thoughts, Inky’s dying body still fresh in her mind and driving her beyond whatever caution she may have normally held. The chamber she entered was markedly distinct from every other place she had been on the ship. It was a clear place of command, shaped like the interior of a dome and with a circular dias at its center surrounded by perfectly molded circular steps. Atop the raised platform stood an imperious Aurora Streak, Devices displaying various images of the destroyed Ponyville on her every side. Aurora herself was armored with one her augmentation arrays, the part shoved into the Changelings’ eye sockets merely resting over her own. All the same, it all combined to give her a crazed, non-pony look; which Twilight reasoned was probably more to her liking anyway.
“Twilight Sparkle,” she said, enunciating every stress. “For once, I am not exactly sure how I ought to speak to you.”
“Go to Tartarus, murderer,” Twilight growled, in no mood to banter words with Aurora.
“Well, that at least gives me something,” she said, ignoring the hostility in Twilight’s insult. “I had truly thought I had convinced you of the injustices gone unattended under Celestia’s rule. It would appear though, that you are no better than the dead below.”
“How dare you just talk about the ponies you’ve killed like they are nothing!” Twilight burst out.
“Because they are nothing!” Aurora spat back. “Those that would pursue ignorance over enlightenment are but a blight upon society! They deserve nothing better than to be slain to give greater credence to intelligence and truth!”
“I was right all along!” Twilight shouted. “You are a monster. A horrid, sick, incurable MONSTER!” Unable to hold back any longer, Twilight blasted a shatter spell at Aurora. The mare above her sidestepped slightly, and fired one of her mounted Devices, countering Twilight’s spell.
“I was right to remove the Elements from the control of the likes you!” Aurora said vehemently. “Such fools only understand what Harmony means, not what it is!”
“You don’t understand it either!” Twilight yelled, this time firing three stunning spells simultaneously. Aurora met the first with a second blast from her own Device but was forced to jump away from her dias and onto Twilight’s level to avoid the second and third.
“I built Elements!” Aurora crowed. “I understand it more than anypony in history!”
“You’re nothing but a hypocrite! You let Inky Jay die! Where’s the loyalty in that!?” Twilight fought back.
“And how loyal was he to lead you here?” Aurora replied.
“He was more loyal to you and everything you stood for than you’ll ever know,” Twilight said low. “You didn’t deserve his devotion to your cause.”
“You cannot win, Magic,” Aurora said. “If you choose to fight me I will kill you with as little hesitation as I have killed all the ones below. You cannot do as much. No matter how strongly you believe I should die, I see in your eyes the same nobility that has prevented thousands from following through with their conviction of justice.”
“Who says I have to kill you to win?” Twilight said, warping first to Aurora’s left, then right, behind, and finally front again in quick succession. “Say I can’t win again,” she said, all the fury at Aurora’s cold murder of so many ponies and Changelings giving strength to her magic. She began teleporting again, reversing the pattern she had used earlier and firing a shattering spell between each movement. Aurora’s teeth ground in concentration as she whirled her Devices at blurring speeds. Their manic clicking accentuated the ringing of Twilight’s spells as they were reflected away and blasted holes in the walls.
Now rather than use her teleportation offensively, Twilight was fleeing from a withering stream of turquoise bolts of magic. Her own shields could repel Aurora’s attack, but they were only as strong as Twilight herself, unlike the near infinite endurance of a Device. Able to find some respite behind the dias, Twilight ripped up several of the wood panels and held them together as a shield with her magic. The turquoise spell was obviously designed only to harm living things, so the wood would be the perfect shield with minimal magic required. At least, Twilight had thought it would be.
“Cease your desperation, Magic!” Aurora cried out, Twilight holding up her wood planks. The barrage of deceptively soft-hued magic was gone, replaced by a concussive blast and searing red light. Twilight was blown backward and her shield was ripped and broken into shreds that floated like paper. She gingerly tapped her face where several pieces had lodged. Tiny drops of blood were leaking out. The flurry of incinerated wood had barely settled when Aurora marched through it, advancing confidently on Twilight. She was too exhausted to teleport, and any direct attack Aurora would only counter. She needed something more indirect.
Her thoughts were interrupted as all around them, the wood of the House of a Thousand Fangs groaned and creaked as she began to list heavily to the right. Twilight took her chance as Aurora howled angrily and her bangles began to glow far more visibly as she attempted to somehow right the besieged vessel. Twilight rolled with the ship’s tilt, and in a flash of inspiration, she gripped Aurora in a telekinetic field. The elder mare screamed in protest and pain as she was rolled and bounced painfully in her armor over the now severely tilted ship’s floor. Without Aurora able to concentrate sufficiently to keep the ship airborne, the list became a full crash. The world around Twilight shuddered, groaned, and screeched as she and Aurora fell against the wall. The impact happened sooner than Twilight had thought, the forced halt of the vessel against the earth throwing Twilight to the side.
But, having anticipated much of the falling and rolling, Twilight was not as heavily bruised as the shaking Aurora. Her eyes met Twilight’s and a silent hatred passed from her in the form of two hurled Device grenades. Images of Inky shoving her away and taking the explosion himself flashed through Twilight’s mind. “NEVER AGAIN!” she screamed at Aurora, her magic grasping the grenades mid-flight and detonating their glowing, firey power within violet bubbles. Seized by the desire for retribution, Twilight hurled the spheres at Aurora’s fragile form. And for the first, satisfying time, Twilight witnessed true fear in the mare’s eyes.
The explosions released, one at either of Aurora’s sides, annihilating her armor and Devices and knocking her into unconsciousness at the force of opposing concussive blasts.
The cataclysm was over. The brutality halted. The war ended. The battle won. And all Twilight could do was fall back on her rump, and finally let the tears and sobs of exhaustion and grief flow as a ring of unnatural green fire formed behind her.
Where the Everfree Forest was famed for its inability to be tamed, there now ran through it a terrible scar. A blight on its wild nature. A trench wider than some rivers and just as deep had been gouged from its edge through several hundred feet of greenery. Any shrubs or ferns that may have marked the forest floor before the ruinous damage were nowhere to be seen and what trees bordered the ripped earth were marred by twisted and broken limbs and on many, burn marks.
The magnitude of the Everfree’s defacement was matched only by the perpetrator. Nose half-buried in the ground that had ceased its forward momentum, the formerly imperious House of a Thousand Fangs now rested a wreck among leaves and vines. The wood planking of which it had been constructed was fractured both outward from the impact of the crash, and inward from punishing bolts of magic hurled by the forces of Celestia. Although lying haphazardly amongst the splintered support braces which had once held them in place, the vessel’s cannons had escaped irreparable damage. From a distance, the thick black smoke given off by the miniscule flames still licking at the edges of the thrust engines would give the impression of a far greater crash than had been the ship’s forced descent.
And in the presence of such fallen power, all was still. The wind was stayed, the birds and other animals of the Everfree were fled or hushed, and the earth had once again been given the ability to remain still. But in the wake of so grand a collapse, the waves had yet to pass before the true calm could be restored.
Breaking the silence with the unique bursting flare of magic, night blue light pierced through cracks in the wood of one of the ship’s sides. The light served only as a brief warning as the magic producing it blasted a hole in the wood with a thunderous boom, sending large hunks of wood into the underbrush which had barely escaped annihilation. From the gap emerged the regal Princess Luna, whose eyes cast in all directions before leaping to the ground. She was followed by Pinkie Pie, who at present carried Rarity on her back. “Lay her here,” the princess ordered once Pinkie had met Luna in the untarnished portion of the forest. “Now, Rarity, we regret to tell thee that our healing wilt pain thee greatly.”
“Just do it, Princess,” Rarity hissed as she shifted the burned tissue too quickly. With only a nod to Rarity to indicate she was about to start, Luna lowered her horn, ever so slightly brushing the tip against the seared and bleeding flesh. A minute spark of magic lanced between Luna’s horn and Rarity’s wound, rapidly doing so again and again until it appeared to be a constant bolt connecting the two. Now with the spell active, Luna gingerly pulled the precision beam over all of Rarity’s injury. She tried within the first few seconds to fight the pain: holding her breath, tensing her body, and squinting her eyes. But before the princess could even repair half the skin, Rarity loosed a writhing scream, burying her head in her forehooves and sobbing. Her cry echoed throughout the forest, seeming to linger in the leaves as though it grasped onto Rarity’s unheeded plea for mercy as its own scream of pain. Pinkie did what she could for her friend, grasping one of Rarity’s hooves in her own and patting her on the back with the other.
When Luna at last finished her task, she looked guiltily at the hiccuping Rarity. “We art terribly sorry thou had to endure such treatment,” she apologized. “But infection in this forest of all places is more likely than most, and numbing spells are not temporary.”
“It... could... have been worse... Princess,” Rarity shuddered, doing her best to regain control over herself.
“Can you walk again, Rarity?” Pinkie asked, her boundless energy translating into anxiousness.
“I’m a little sore,” she admitted, testing each of her limbs in turn as she stood. “But I can manage a trek.”
“Are you kidding!?” Pinkie shouted. “We have to go back and find everypony else! Who knows what happened to AJ and General Serious McSeriouserson!”
“But the Changelings...” Rarity trailed off.
“We believe we have done far too much for Chrysalis to turn against us now,” Luna said. “But if thy suspicions prove valid, do remember that her daughter resideth still in Twilight Sparkle’s library. She, if need be, provideth us with a hostage.”
“That’s horrid!” Rarity exclaimed. “And more to the point that is not what I was going to say.” Rarity eyed Luna’s single raised brow of expectation before continuing, “I meant to say they might not yet be free. We crashed before we really saw any evidence that Chrysalis controls them again.” “And yet they are still no threat,” Luna replied. “The very fact of our less than graceful descent proveth Aurora lost control, and we therefore canst assume that her control over the Changelings wilt have dissipated long enough for Chrysalis and Rainbow Dash to have finished their task.”
“Sounds good to me,” Pinkie agreed with Luna. “But what are we going to do about all those poor Changelings meany pants Aurora locked in that closet?”
“We shalt find Chrysalis first,” Luna said, taking her first steps back into the House of a Thousand Fangs. “She shalt know best how to care for them.” The three companions, now settled in their course of action, re-entered the twisted and shattered halls of the downed vessel. After retrieving Pinkie Pie and Rarity, Luna had taken no bother of walls and the like, using her superior magical power to simply cut down any barriers that lay in her way. But now, with urgency not rising up within her and considerations of the ship’s structural integrity bearing down on her mind, Luna restrained herself and bore witness to all the damage done to the ship’s interior. Much of the cracked and split wood was a result of the crash, but in other areas, battle scars had combined with the severe impact to collapse entire corridors or block others with heaping piles of wood planks and brass piping and plating. In addition, a number of the Devices marked by the numerous ornaments adorning the walls had been ruined. A great deal of them spat rain-like streams of water onto everything within their reach while others sparked dangerously with former defensive magic. The passages of the ship had essentially become death traps to any not acquainted with their contents or those without sufficient power to defend themselves against a slight slip. As they traversed the broken floors, Luna was forced multiple times to erect a defensive barrier to shield her two allies from Devices bursting into flames of varying color or a singular blast from an unstable Device collapsing a portion of the wall.
She was beginning to worry more than she was normally wont about the safety of the others in such an unpredictable environment when two quite distinctive voices were heard around the corner. “Sweet Celestia! If we don’ find ‘em soon... I don’ really wanna think ‘bout it.”
“Your not giving the princess and that queen enough credit, filly. If you want to worry, worry about your friend, Miss Sparkle.”
“APPLEJACK!” Pinkie was the first to burst out, running ahead and nearly strangling her friend with a hug as she edged around the bend.
“General,” Luna greeted Spearhead formally as Rarity joined Pinkie and Applejack, celebrating being together after their harrowing tasks.
“Your Majesty,” Spearhead replied, dropping into a light bow.
“Thou hast done a more than commendable job with the mission assigned thee,” Luna said. “We are eternally grateful to thee.”
“It was a joint effort by every one of us,” Spearhead answered in his soldier’s humility. “I’m just glad to find you unhurt Your Majesty.”
“Likewise, Spearhead,” Luna replied. “We art not sure how we wouldst manage without thee.”
“Pretty darn well I’d imagine,” Spearhead said gruffly.
Their brief conversation was cut when Applejack bowed to Luna, saying, “Thank ya, Yer Majesty. Fer keepin’ Pinkie safe an’ healin’ Rarity like ya did.”
“We wouldst have done the same for thee, or any of our ponies,” Luna said. “But thou art most welcome.”
“So, I will venture to guess you two have yet to run across Twilight or the others,” Rarity asked, her head turning from Spearhead to Applejack and back again.”
“Nope, we haven’t,” Applejack confirmed for her. “An’ we ain’t seen no Changelin’s either. Spearhead here was thinkin’ it’d be good ta find one so they could lead us ta Chrysalis and Dash.”
“And consequently to Twilight and Aurora,” Luna finished. “That hope may not be so dead as thou thinkest. In our fight through the bowels of this ship, we stumbled across a makeshift prison in which Aurora had thrown all of Chrysalis’s commanders. From our understanding, they were immune to the methods employed to control the others.”
“But Princess,” Rarity said, “we can’t possibly ask them to walk, let alone lead us to their queen.”
“They had been tortured?” Spearhead supposed.
“Malnourished,” Luna corrected. “Some had already descended into a stasis of sorts.”
“We should find them anyway,” the general said. “If they aren’t able to reach Chrysalis, they’ll definitely be the first she finds in this mess.”
“Makes sense,” Applejack replied. “Y’all know where they are?”
“Of course, follow me,” Pinkie said without a moment’s hesitation; which baffled Luna, as she had not the slightest memory of the exact location, especially with how mangled the ship had become. Nevertheless, both Rarity and Applejack trusted their friend enough to follow her. Still struggling with the exact nature of the phenomenon that was Pinkie Pie, Luna fell in behind Rarity, Spearhead flanking her protectively. ______________________________________________________________________________
Chrysalis had taken many quiet moments in Twilight Sparkle’s library to contemplate exactly how the reunification with her hive would be like. Glorious. Satisfying. Joyful. All of these Chrysalis had anticipated, yet not one of them was hers. She had removed the final Device blocking her connection to the hive only seconds before the entire ship had smashed into the earth. Having been hovering at the time, she had been saved from being flung into this or that wall. But even as her Changelings began to reawaken to her presence, sing mental praise to being under her watchful mind once again, Chrysalis cut off the Hive Mind. The battle was over, and at present, she was burdened by two things which had, much against her will and better judgement, taken precedence. The body lying across her back and held in place by her wing joints, Rainbow Dash’s body, was one of those. Already Chrysalis was beginning to feel the pegasus’s wild panic, and if her experience with other assimilations was anything to judge by, Dash was handling the transformation quite well. With the gentlest of levitation, Chrysalis removed Rainbow from her back and laid her on the floor.
Physically, she was quite far along. The eye shields had already formed, and as Rainbow was effectively unconscious, there was no way to see if her eyes had also changed color. Her skin was not yet black chitin, but her feathers had already peeled away from her new membranous wings and the apertures in her mane, tail, and legs were beginning to take shape. Find my commanders, now! Chrysalis sent the order as a blasting wave to all her soldiers. Even without the Hive Mind, she still possessed broader telepathic abilities as queen. Be prepared to care for them. I sense many are already in stasis to hold off starvation. There was no distinct response, as that privileged connection to her was delegated to the very Changelings Chrysalis was ordering be found, but the general affirmation was enough. And those among you with the most stored love, Chrysalis continued, find me. We have a new member of the hive that will be very weak when the assimilation is complete. Again, collective acknowledgement was all Chrysalis received, but under the circumstances, she was satisfied.
She was still waiting for her Children to arrive and watching as Dash’s fur fell away to chitin, when her mind was intruded upon by a weak, but elated voice. Your Majesty, may you live for ever for all the power you have displayed in bringing down this monster of a ship! Captain Hept exclaimed.
I will not take full credit Captain, Chrysalis admitted. But justice has at least begun to be dealt, so we have that. Please tell me all my commanders live.
All with me are alive and being strengthened by love right this moment, Hept replied. But it pains me to say I cannot account for Chis and Polyora. They were taken from us before we were imprisoned. I do not want to imagine what that sick pony has done to them.
Aurora Streak will face her punishment on all fronts. I will make sure of it, Chrysalis assured him. For now, once you are well enough, take a small contingent and sweep the ship. The rest are to flee and camp in the deeper parts of the forest. I want these ponies, she flashed images of Luna, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, and Spearhead to Hept, found and healed if need be. Once you have found them, alert me and await further instructions.
I know three of them, Your Majesty, Hept answered to Chrysalis’s surprise. They would have rescued us if they could have.
Then go, Captain, Chrysalis ordered. Delay is not something we can afford at the moment. Not with ponies not as sympathetic to our kind sure to be marching to this place.
Your Majesty, Hept said submissively before sliding out of their mental conversation. Now without her captain’s thoughts occupying the majority of her connection with her other Children, Chrysalis became privy to an approaching group of twelve Changelings.
“Queen Chrysalis, may you live forever,” they all bowed upon entering the chamber proper. A single of their number spoke next, “Is that the one?”
“It is,” Chrysalis said. “Make her comfortable and be sure to educate her in the workings of our mental connectedness. My daughter adores her, and I will not see her reduced to a shambling wreck for having not been properly initiated.”
“Of course, of course,” a pre-occupied Changeling said, making his way to the front. “She is in the hooves of yours truly, Doctor Nemb.”
“See to it you do not fail,” Chrysalis reiterated, her horn lighting and leaping green flames surrounding her. The last she saw of her Changelings was Doctor Nemb barking at the others about a lack of proper conditions, then nothing. Light greeted her opened eyes once again as she slid up out of her portal of venom green fire, but it was not Device light as she had been expecting. Rather, the sun was doing its best to send its rays through a section of the wall whose wooden planks had been warped and cracked so badly, they were more like shutters than a wall. The penetrating light cast warmth into an otherwise undamaged room, but the odd serenity there was tainted by the shell-shocked sobs and tears of Twilight Sparkle. Her cries were suppressed, although she made no effort to wipe away her tears, letting them fall to the ground instead.
Chrysalis scanned Twilight’s back for a moment longer, checking if she were injured. She was scraped and bruised like Chrysalis herself, but nothing more. Assured of Twilight’s state, Chrysalis’s searching orbs found the limp, half-armored body of Aurora Streak. She was unconscious, of that much Chrysalis was certain, but by what means and for how long still escaped her. A subtle spell detected no magic holding her mind in the nether regions of thought, and as far as Chrysalis could see, she had suffered no injury so debilitating as to suck her life away. A vicious thought of exacting such a wound on Aurora flashed through Chrysalis’s mind, but a more calculating one quickly replaced it. What better punishment than to let Aurora live and be sentenced in the very system she so despised. That would be revenge sweeter than anything Chrysalis could enact.
So now sure Aurora truly was unconscious, Chrysalis carefully approached Twilight. “Is that you, Chrysalis?” Twilight asked, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking. “Did you get your Changelings back?”
“It is me, and yes, we are all one again,” she replied, coming and sitting beside Twilight. “You overpowered her then.”
“Yeah,” Twilight sniffed. “But just barely. And... and... Inky died.”
“At her own hooves?” Chrysalis asked, looking around for a pony corpse she had missed. “I wouldn’t have thought it in her, even if she—”
“No,” Twilight cut her off. “He... He was so stupid!” She was crying harder now as she ranted, “He took two grenade blasts meant for me even though I could have easily used a magic barrier to protect myself! And it’s not like he didn’t know I could do it! Why did he have to do it?!”
“Perhaps it was best for him of all of us to die,” Chrysalis said, treading ever so lightly. She had seen Twilight’s reaction in countless war victims. No matter how grated their companionship may have been in the past, survivors always suffered horrible guilt over what they could have done, why the other sacrificed themselves, which in hindsight was needless. It was a constant struggle for war leaders to calm these storming emotions, and Chrysalis had seen two recovery campaigns come and go with only varying degrees of success. It seemed there was no set solution to this singular problem of battle. It was the price paid for camaraderie in war. “Imagine his place in the aftermath of all this,” Chrysalis continued. “He would belong to neither of us, would not want to belong I don’t think, and would be forced to stay with us for lack of being able to return home.”
“Maybe... maybe...” Twilight was saying, but her voice faded into obscurity as a Changeling lieutenant intruded rather boldly upon her thoughts. Your Majesty, may you live forever.
Yes, Chrysalis very nearly snapped.
Apologies for the suddenness of my report, but my squad has found two ponies just outside your present location, the Changeling said.
Your point? Chrysalis replied, now becoming openly impatient.
One needs immediate medical attention and none of our doctors know anything about pony anatomy, the lieutenant finished rapidly. Internally Chrysalis swore, beginning to put the pieces together, and not particularly liking the image forming.
Hold your position, I am coming personally, she commanded.
“... been even listening to me?!” Twilight’s incredulous voice greeted Chrysalis’s ears as she allowed her senses to establish themselves.
“No, and for good reason,” she answered pointedly. “It seems Jay is not dead.”
“What?!” Twilight burst out.
“My Changelings tell me he is on the verge, but that he might be saved if swift action is taken,” Chrysalis said. “There will be military hospitals in Celestia’s camp. You must take him there if you want to return the favor.”
“Are you—” Twilight tried to question her, but Chrysalis rebutted her like she would a insubordinate soldier, if only to make Twilight realize the pertinence of the situation.
“I thought you did not want him dead!”
“No, I just—”
“Then come or I will take him myself, as inadvisable and unappealing as that is.” With a solid forehoof, Chrysalis rapped Twilight on the back, jolting her into action. Both of them cantered through the first door and into the hall, coming into the destroyed junction Twilight had presumed would be Inky Jay’s final resting place. Chrysalis gave a subtle, approving nod to the small formation of Changelings who had begun clearing the space of debris, holding in her surprise at the level of damage in the small space. Of course much of the ship had been marred, but the gaping blast hole in the wall and the number of exposed and twisted Devices was by far the worst she had seen in any one place.
So occupied had Chrysalis been with the impressive scale of the battle’s aftermath, that she nearly tripped over something in the hall, prompting a barely audible, “Oh dear,” from Fluttershy. Glancing down, Chrysalis at first assumed she had bumped into a mass of Device parts, but the truth was far worse. Only a few seconds more, and her guess gave way to recognition. There was chitin beneath the brass. Kneeling down on her stomach, Chrysalis gingerly rolled the body upright, unsure if she really did want to see the extent of the horror. That desire of a ruler to know the end fate of her soldiers kept Chrysalis’s eyes locked on the limp form beneath her hooves. Had she not been the presence of other of her subordinates, she would have cried out in anguish at the sight of the faces of the two of her commanders. Mutilated. Dishonored. Defiled. And worst of all, they had not fallen in battle. She could still feel their pulses; that life blood that would force them to live out the rest of their days as disabled warriors.
“Your Majesty,” one of the Changelings approached her, “we are all ashamed and desperately sorry for having not seen our brothers. Forgive our negligence.”
“For all that cold, ruthless abomination has done to them, I understand why you did not see them here,” Chrysalis accepted the apology, allowing twin tears to fall if only to maintain her composure in all else. “But now your duty is clear. Call anyling you require to take these two to a physician. If he reports an inability to remove the Devices, he has my higher permission to end their lives.”
“Chrysalis!” Twilight burst out. “You can’t just do that! There’s been enough dying already!”
“And there will be more,” Chrysalis replied, gently helping the Changelings grip their augmented brethren in magic, “especially with all of the injuries sustained by both sides. And death is better than life tainted by her.”
“Let it go, Twilight,” Fluttershy suggested. “We can help Inky Jay, but those Changelings are Queen Chrysalis’s responsibility.”
“It just doesn’t seem right...” Twilight trailed off.
“Neither does saving this insolent serving pony,” Chrysalis said. “But I understand the need to repay a debt. Try to understand our customs as well.”
“I... okay,” Twilight relented, so stricken both physically and emotionally she felt fighting the issue would be a waste of precious stamina.
Satisfied, Chrysalis took to inspecting Inky’s wood riddled and wingeless side. “You saved him by stopping the blood,” she assessed. “I’m frankly surprised he didn’t die from blood loss.”
“There was... so much...” Fluttershy agreed.
“We need to carry him in both our fields of magic for support,” Chrysalis instructed. “As many shards of wood and metal are in his body, a single change in the way he is lying could kill him.”
Your Majesty, it’s Captain Hept. We found the pony princess and her fellows. They are telling me they are unhurt, and I think they are being truthful, the soldier’s mental voice intruded.
Duly noted, captain, Chrysalis replied, Have one of your Changelings bring Princess Luna to us immediately. Inform her it is a literal matter of life and death if she is hesitant. Aloud, Chrysalis said to Twilight and Fluttershy, “Well, even if my Children must suffer, I suppose that is my fault in the end. One of my commanders found Luna and the rest. They survived.”
“Oh, goodness,” Fluttershy was the first to breathe in relief. “I am sure we’ll be hearing all about how the fighting went from Rainbow Dash. She can be so rash. I’m glad she’s alright.”
“Rainbow Dash,” Chrysalis started. A small ripple spasmed through her body as she realized the mistaken assumption Rainbow’s friends had made about her whereabouts. Chrysalis was about to open her mouth again; reveal the pegasus’s true fate, but a small voice—the one that told her how to care for her precious Lacewing—sealed her lips. Not now, it said. Not yet. For Rainbow’s sake and theirs. Instead, Chrysalis said with a forced chuckle that sounded genuine from years and years of practice, “I’m sure you both will. She is skilled even without proper training.”
“So... how do you want to lift Inky?” Twilight asked, her horn already lit in preparation.
“Luna will be here in just a moment to help you,” Chrysalis answered. “My warriors need to make an accurate count of the dead, bandage the injured for travel, and retreat into the Everfree before Celestia’s forces arrive. Don’t fool yourself. They’ll be coming.” As if on the queen’s command, a ring of luminous green fire formed on the floor, a Changeling and Princess Luna rising up from its void.
As Luna stepped out of the circle, Chrysalis walked in, prompting a reaching hoof from Twilight. “But Chrysalis! You can’t just leave; not after all you’ve done to help us. I... we... we’re...”
“This situation is complicated enough as it is without Chrysalis present,” Luna said, calm but affirmative.
“My point exactly,” the queen replied. “Don’t worry, Twilight. We are not leaving anytime soon. There will be plenty of time to sort out our part, but now is not the time.” Without giving any of them time to respond, Chrysalis and her small entourage disappeared into the floor. Twilight was, in a way, glad to have something so requiring of her attention as helping the Princess carry Inky. It distracted her from thinking about Chrysalis and Lacewing (goodness knew how she was going to get daughter back to mother unless Chrysalis teleported her out, which was highly likely, considering her restored power), Inky Jay himself, and Aurora and all that she had done, said, and caused. And not for the first time, she was glad to have friends like hers. All she wanted, needed, was somepony to cry with: somepony who understood everything she felt. _____________________________________________________________________________
Luna knew something was not right. She had been a ruler of a many times divided land for far too long to not see when somepony else in authority had something to hide. Judging by Chrysalis’s reaction to her name, Rainbow Dash was injured or worse. Unfortunately, with Inky Jay in so needful a state and without any knowledge from whence Chrysalis had come, Luna had not the time to either search the ship or pursue Chrysalis for information. And telling the Bearers would not help; it would only make their current circumstances worse at best, disastrous at worst. A solution was present, but it was deceitful and rather unappealing to Luna. She had, however, no other option presenting itself at the moment. Turning to Fluttershy, she said, “Twilight and we art taking Inky Jay back to the encampment, but we hath no time to regroup with everypony else. Go to the top deck where we told thy friends we wouldst meet them, and inform them of our course.”
“I can do that, Princess,” Fluttershy replied, the relief at being asked to do something so simple rolling off her in waves. A twinge of guilt passed through Luna as the shy Bearer of Kindness began the trek toward her companions. It would not be long before they realized Rainbow was missing, and by then, Luna hoped against hope they would search for her in place of Luna herself.
“Art thou prepared, Twilight?” Luna asked, horn glinting with magic.
“I am,” she said, following Luna’s example with what little energy she had left.
“We know it rather dangerous to do with an injured pony, but we wilt teleport us a short distance just to get outside the vessel,” Luna explained.
“I trust you, Princess,” Twilight said, wiping away new, silent tears. With no more words, Luna cast a spell of rigidity on Inky’s body while Twilight lifted him into the air. The teleport would need to be near instantaneous, what with Inky’s inability to control his breathing and such, and while Luna was more than confident in her ability, she feared for the wound that had once been his wing. There was no determining what effect the warp would have on normally sealed flesh. Still, they needed an exit, and blasting her way through walls was riskier at this depth than when she had been reasonably close to the exterior. Luna cast the spell, but kept it focused and building power at the edge of her horn. It immediately began loosing comet-like sparks and screaming with energy, but Luna held it until she could no longer bear the pressure at the base of her horn. In a whirling flash, she, Twilight, and Inky were gone; leaving behind the House of a Thousand Fangs for the last time.
Luna’s eyes opened at the edge of the Everfree Forest. It was a farther warp than she had intended, but Inky was still breathing and his injuries had not worsened or begun bleeding afresh. “Princess,” Twilight asked as they began the walk toward the remains of Ponyville, “Why would anypony go to war willingly? What pony would want this?”
“We think thou misunderstandest war,” Luna replied slowly, cautious of how she ought to answer. No doubt her sister had a surefire answer ready for awkward questions when they arose, but Luna was neither public figure nor mentor. “At times, there art greater things. Things which mean more to ponies than their own lives and the lives of others, even their families. If threatened, they feel compelled to fight for the survival of those things.”
“Nothing is worth this,” Twilight disagreed with a note of finality.
“Thou only speak as such because thou hath been the recipient of the devastation of war first, and the hath yet to be the enactor,” Luna said. “Trust us, there art some things to which life must be given for its preservation.”
“There’s never only one way to do something,” Twilight said stalwartly.
“Thou share that view with not a few ponies,” Luna answered, “but the other roads art not always so clearly marked.”
Luna had expected Twilight to continue to push the issue, as Celestia had commented her student absolutely hated losing or even appearing to lose a debate, but instead, she completely dropped the subject in favor of casting her eyes over all of Ponyville’s deserted rubble. “Where is everypony?” she asked. “Where are the soldiers? Where are the survivors?”
“There may be very few of those,” Luna admitted with reserve. The skeleton of the town had been tinted red from all the blood, both fresh and drying, split in its streets and splattered on its walls. Unidentifiable bits of gore littered the streets, and those dead that had not been reduced to mere strewn pieces of flesh lay mangled in the very armor that had been intended to protect them. The smell that permeated everything was unique to death and blood: great amounts of death and blood. The more her mind was allowed to dwell on the brutal carnage lying about her, the more of its detail was opened to Luna’s eyes. Horrid memories of times lost from the knowledge of the mortals intruded, superimposing their gorey selves onto Ponyville’s scape. Luna shook her head vigorously, ridding herself of those thoughts and images, but unable to escape the destruction at present.
Concentrating on putting her hooves one in front of the other, Luna realized she had led Twilight back to the library. The lone tree was somehow still standing amongst craters and blasted buildings, and it seemed to have a ring of protection around it, for the dead and their shed blood did not so totally flood the area as the rest of the town. “We’re about halfway to the other side of town since that’s the library,” Twilight muttered, more likely to herself than Luna. But anything else Twilight may have said, Luna ear’s ignored. A small turn of her head, and she saw a white coat, partially obscured by golden armor. She had not felt elation like what now bloomed inside her for ages, and that euphoria opened her lips in an almost weeping cry, “SISTER!?” ______________________________________________________________________________
She marched with definitive hoofsteps through the ravaged battlefield that had once held the name Ponyville. An eerie silence had fallen over the remains, only magical fires and the cracking of the steps of her two guards providing any clear, ringing sounds. Already through the town’s center, and not a soul was to be seen. For all intents and purposes, Ponyville appeared dead, struck down by the clashing of two great forces. Her own forces she had ordered withdrawn, so their absence was not nearly so disconcerting as the absence of the enemy. Her hoof stepped on something markedly softer than the ashen and dislodged soil which now coated everything with blood as its glue. She stopped, allowing her eyes to turn to the earth despite her better judgement.
There, having somehow survived the havoc wreaked on its home, a small filly’s plush lay at the hooves of Celestia, Princess of the Sun. Two tears leaked from her eyes as she held it at her eye-level with a gentle golden levitation spell. Had she truly forgotten the consequences of war? Did her reminder have to be so forceful, so wrenching? Celestia nestled the dirty toy in the small saddle bags attached to her regal armor, not bothering about how Shining Armor and his hoof-picked second viewed the act.
She did, however, predict the coming question when her chosen path diverted from the curling smoke column rising from the warship’s crash site in the Everfree Forest. “Your Majesty?” Shining Armor inquired. “Do you have something else more important to see to other than the ship? I can send Archer for whatever you need.”
“Do not argue with my decisions, Captain,” Celestia snapped, only realizing afterwards how distressed her own voice sounded. More calmly, but also more subdued, she said, “Not today...” The pony, Archer, uttered something resembling a half syllable, but was cut himself short. Celestia assumed Shining had given him a commanding glare or a dissuading kick.
It took only a few more turns down paths further and further marred by the dead before Shining understood. He swore violently, and Celestia felt no reason to stop him. She even began walking to one side, giving her Captain ample opportunity to gallop ahead. Ever loyal to her, he controlled himself and did nothing. As it stood, Celestia could not be sure if she was encouraged or concerned by his behavior. When Celestia had entered the officially documented Ponyville Third Courtyard, she had expected it of all places to be utterly desolate. Instead, that place which ponies colloquially called Library Road, was all but untouched. Barring a few craters, collapsed buildings, and shattered walkways, it was an oasis in the world of destruction the town had become. Most significantly, the library itself still stood.
But where a deep sigh of released tension gave expression to Shining Armor’s relief, Celestia could only manage a glare. She was elated that Twilight had likely survived; and if their ability to stay together was any indication, the other Bearers had as well. No, the Sun Princess saw in the undamaged library mockery. Mockery of her own powerlessness. That even at so critical a moment, she had not had the ability to protect her faithful student. That duty had fallen, of all ponies, to her enemy.
Without her noticing at first, the door to the library was cracking open, tentative as to the nature of the world outside. “Princ...Princess Celestia?” came the bewildered, hopeful voice of none other than Spike. “Is that really you? Is it over?”
“It is really me, Spike,” Celestia replied in her most controlled tone. “But even though that vessel has crashed somewhere in Everfree, I cannot say whether it is over.”
“The ship crashed!” Spike exploded, throwing open the door and rushing out to look in the forest’s direction. “But Twilight! Was she still on it?! Do you know, Princess? Is she alright?”
“Slow down, Spike buddy,” Shining said, holding himself together better than Celestia at the moment, who was already lighting her horn in preparation for teleportation. “My sister was on board? How? Why?”
“It complicated,” Spike replied, jittery. “Can we just get a move on! Twilight’s might have been hurt or somethin’!”
“I agree, Captain,” Celestia commanded. “I will take Spike to the vessel directly. Take your subordinate back to the encampment and begin rounding up what soldiers are still able to fight. Bring them to the crash site personally. I want a full guard rotation and enough ponies to sweep the interior.”
“Understood, Your Majesty!” Shining and Archer saluted before whipping around and galloping back to the camp.
“Spike,” Celestia said, offering a wing out to the young dragon.
“Wait! You said you would come back! Please don’t leave!” a shrill, terrified voice filled Celestia’s ears. It was the voice of a filly, and Celestia could have no more ignored her than struck her sister. Her head jerked around, and instinct nearly warped her teleportation spell into a lethal incineration beam. Running frantically toward them, and nearly tripping over her own hooves in her desperation was a Changeling filly.
“Princess! Don’t kill her, seriously!” Spike said, bravely putting himself between the Changeling and Celestia’s power.
“Changeling she might be, Spike, but she is still a filly and to kill even adults pains me,” Celestia reassured him. “I am confident Twilight had a good reason for taking her in, even during the crisis.”
“Ummm...” Spike replied, nervously wringing his claws together. “Like I told Shining, it’s a lot more complicated than that.”
“Nevertheless,” Celestia said, now offering two wings for the much smaller creatures around her. Only when Spike grabbed onto Celestia’s leg did the filly do likewise.
“SISTER!?” exclaimed a voice of heavily mixed emotions, but one which Celestia knew better than any other. Her wings she folded back to her sides as her head twisted around, though the two younger creatures with her still clung to the safety she offered.
“SPIKE!?” the hoarser, more affected voice of Twilight Sparkle followed Luna’s own.
“Luna, Twilight Sparkle,” Celestia said, smiling radiantly at their having survived. Hope had begun to fail in her, but now it had been rekindled brighter than before. “You’re alive. When Spike told me you had gone on board the ship, I... well I thought the worst.”
“We art glad thou art unhurt as well, sister,” Luna said, the words rolling hurriedly off her tongue now that she was sure Celestia was no apparition of her distress. “But we art in desperate need of a physician for this one.” At her prompting, she and Twilight brought Inky’s maimed body before Celestia. “He aided us and has suffered these wounds saving the life of Twilight Sparkle.”
“I see,” Celestia said, her brow furrowing as she attempted to reorganize all of the new variables into a viable course of action. “Twilight, I assume you know this little Changeling filly,” she decided to address her student first.
“Yes,” Twilight said shortly, but Celestia could see in her pupil’s eyes there was something else, something Twilight was choosing to hide.
“And the other Bearers?” she asked her sister.
“They wilt be following in our hoofsteps without delay,” Luna replied. “They too all live, if that is what thou wast asking.”
“I had faith they were all still with us, Luna,” Celestia said. “Come, I will go back to the staging area with you. I’m sure your brother will be relieved to see you, and I assume my orders will need to be modified with whatever you know, dear sister.”
“And a doctor... You can get us the best doctor right Princess?” Twilight asked, even as they all began to march away, Spike struggling to keep his eyes averted from the extension of Inky Jay’s injuries and the Changeling filly falling between the two mares she trusted more than Celestia.
“I can, and I will,” Celestia said, bowing her head sadly as she continued. “They will be glad to have a pony they can actually save.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Even though it was the Everfree Forest and not the quiet, peaceful copses nearer Ponyville, Fluttershy felt blessed to take in a deep breath of clean, natural air. Coming into the smells of lush greenery and blooming flowers, Fluttershy wondered how she had been able to survive so long below decks. She supposed it was simply due to having become used to a latent scent of magic with the field having surrounded Ponyville for so long, but she could not believe she had failed to notice how putrid the air had become with the hundreds of Devices damaged and leaking.
And adding to her elation at being able to breathe fresh air again, Fluttershy only had to wait a few seconds before Rarity emerged from the ship’s interior, leading Pinkie and Applejack and Spearhead, the two of whom were discussing something with fierce and raised tones, though Fluttershy was sure they were not arguing. “AH! Everypony look! It’s Fluttershy!” Pinkie said, being the first to notice her. Though she was prepared somewhere in the back of her mind, Fluttershy was still caught unawares when Pinkie surged toward her and wrapped her in a tight hug.
“Oh, sorry,” Pinkie replied, pulling away, but still smiling happily. “I’m glad you’re okay. One of the Changelings told us what happened...” Pinkie struggled to continue to appear cheerful, but ended settling for a dejected sigh.
“It’ll be alright Pinkie,” Fluttershy did her best to keep her friend’s spirits up. “It was pretty scary when it happened, but Twilight and Princess Luna will take care of everything.”
“Yes dear,” Rarity added, having made it to the pair, “Except for Princess Celestia, Inky Jay is now in the hooves of two of the most powerful magic users in Equestria, which is more than he deserves when one thinks about it.”
“But... he saved Twilight,” Fluttershy ventured. Rarity grimaced at this, seeming to not want to admit Inky warranted any praise of any kind. In the interim of their conversation, Applejack’s voice cut in as she continued to talk with Spearhead.
“I still don’ think it smart to jus’ let ‘em go wanderin’ off like this,” she said.
“I get that they aren’t exactly a trustworthy species,” Spearhead replied, “but at the same time, Princess Luna offered them asylum for their assistance. I’d like to have them all camped nice and pretty with guards on all sides at all times, but I can’t. I’m sure it makes your skin crawl just like mine, filly, but this is war, and sometimes you do things you’d rather not and trust ponies you never normally would.”
“I’m just sayin’ it’d be smart for somepony ta stay with ‘em ta make sure they don’ get up ta no good,” Applejack said. “An’ I volunteer.”
“And if they did decide to do something?” Spearhead challenged her. “What then? There might have been some killed in the fighting, but there are still enough Changeling soldiers out there to kill you a hundred times over.”
“Just leave them be, darling,” Rarity said to Applejack. “We owe Chrysalis that much for all she did.”
“I don’t think they will cause much trouble anyway,” Fluttershy ventured, shrinking back when they all turned in her direction. “I... I... mean, they need to recover too. I don’t think they’ll, well, care very much about us... as long as we don’t bother them of course.”
“Well said, filly,” Spearhead nodded. “Now, let’s get our flanks off this bucking ship before the soldiers that will be coming arrive. I’d rather not have my own stallions try to arrest me again.”
“Um... wait... what about Rainbow Dash?” Fluttershy asked. “Did she fly on ahead to catch the princess?”
“No, we thought she had gone ahead after meeting up with you,” Rarity replied. “Was she not with Chrysalis?”
“No...” Fluttershy said, “but Chrysalis didn’t seem to be worried about her, so she can’t have been hurt.”
“Maybe not at the time,” Spearhead said gruffly, “but let’s not forget this ship is a rat’s nest of traps and weapons. One wrong step after a crash like this and...” The old general slid his hoof across his neck and clicked his tongue.
“We have to go look for her!” Pinkie said. “We can’t just leave her here if she’s hurt!”
"We could ask for the Changelings’ help too,” Fluttershy agreed. “That would help it go by much faster.”
“Well, I ain’t leavin’ RD here. Everypony ready to go back down?” Appeljack asked, her disgruntled attitude about the Changelings pushing a greater than normal amount of resolve into her tone.
“Look for Changelings first,” Spearhead said, leading the group down. “They know where Chrysalis is, and she should know approximately where your friend is.” ______________________________________________________________________________
Clouds floated above her head in a lackadaisical drift, no cares, fears, or plans. Just floating along, moving wherever the wind would take them. The vibrant sky around them was its normal cerulean hue, but it seemed harsher on the eyes somehow. A brief gust of wind tugged at the clouds, breaking some apart, but simply moving most along. In the swaying wind, her eyes caught glimpses of her red, yellow, and orange bangs before they were caught and blown back again. She sighed with the contentment of a day spent with no pressing issues at hoof, intending to brush her mane back into place. She lifted her hoof, and her leg blocked the sun for but a second.
It was not whole. It was not the leg of a pony. There were hollows where flesh and fur should be.
Rainbow Dash screamed, limbs flailing as she struggled to awake from the nightmare in which she knew she now lay captive. Her eyes jerked open, a panicked scream still escaping her upon waking. The air was not clean and fresh, but heavy with the tainting smells of burning wood and unattended magic. The sky she could not even see, blocked as it was by the wooden planks of Aurora’s vessel. She groaned, flopping her head back to take a controlled breath. All the events just before the fight were such a blur. She needed a few moments to gather her thoughts, get her head back where it belonged, so to speak.
The ship was no longer moving, that much she could latch onto and there were no sounds of battle from outside. Whether that meant they had succeeded, or Celestia’s forces had managed to bring the vessel down, Rainbow could not yet tell. She blinked her eyes, something in the air irritating them, and she froze. Schick. It was barely audible a sound, but with nothing else filling her ears, she could not help but notice it. She grimaced, resisting the urge to check over her body, instead only blinking again, more slowly and purposefully. Schhhhick. The sound followed the movement of her eyelids perfectly. Real, not nightmare-induced, panic was crawling up her sides now, despite her greatest efforts to remain cool and collected.
“Oh, good, you are awake finally,” a genuinely pleased voice said from behind her. “You should be glad you had someling as experienced as myself on this cursed voyage. I’m not entirely sure how well my colleagues back home would have dealt with your situation.”
“I’m not turning around,” Rainbow said, her eyes beginning to water from refusing to blink.
"You do that,” the voice said, a mild amusement tainting the words. “But it won’t change anything.” The voice snickered before adding, “I’m sorry, that truly was an awful pun.”
“Yeah, I’m not laughing,” Rainbow replied, her teeth gritting as she tried to keep her mind from putting together the pieces in all the right ways.
“Listen,” the voice said, now more sympathetic, “I can’t understand what your head is probably telling you, and what your heart is saying in reply. I was born, not made. But that doesn’t change the fact that first, you are now my Sister and second, that as a doctor, it is my responsibility to care for anyling who is need.”
“I AM NOT A CHANGELING!” Rainbow roared, whirling around to shout in the face of the creature behind her. “AND... AND I... I... no...” He was indeed a Changeling, his grass green mane matching his eyes, and he appeared completely unaffected by Rainbow’s rage.
“Yes, you are,” the doctor replied, not uncaring but rather forceful. “Now, I’ve done what I could to make sure the physical changes were a smooth transition, but unless you let me help you with the next part, you will be worse than dead.” Rainbow tried staring back into his green orbs, now much harder than they had been a moment ago, but could not. Without meaning to, she looked down and saw her own hooves. Already having been flooded with denying panic in her dream, the sight of perforated black limbs was not so much a shock as confirmation of what her common sense had been trying to tell her.
Rainbow fell back onto her rump, unable to do any more than stare at one of her legs and struggle to keep the tears back.
“Here, we need to work on your magic as quickly as possible if the next part is going to be any kind of successful,” the doctor Changeling said, using his own arcane skill to withdraw a mirror from a bag resting on his back. “Take it in your magic.”
“I don’t... How am I supposed to know how!?” Rainbow snapped. “I’m a pegasus!” It was not true, but somehow, it helped.
“You are a Changeling,” the physician rebutted, “and you do too have magic. Levitation is a simple task even for Earth ponies who have transformed. Just think about taking the mirror but don’t move your hooves.”
Rainbow snorted, reaching out to grab the mirror in her new, chitin armored hoof. But it seemed the doctor had been anticipating her move, and the mirror was levitated well out of her reach before her hoof had been risen level with her body. Grunting under her breath, she bunched her muscles, preparing to leap into the air and use her superior flying skill. Her legs, though now black and filled with apertures, had not lost any of their old strength and her bound was impressive even by her standards. She flared her wings, and beat them, but felt no force behind the effort. Too late, Rainbow realized her mistake and crashed with graceless limb-flailing onto the floor.
“We can go over flying later,” the doctor said sternly, his voice cracking once in mild worry. “Now, if you don’t learn how to use magic, you can’t access the Hive Mind willingly, and if you don’t do that, when Her Majesty gives our full evacuation orders, it will be like an invasion into your thoughts rather than a normal conversation. Continue to be a stubborn griffon, and your mind will be destroyed from the contact.” Rainbow glared at the Changeling before her, the will to fight, to resist the truth still fresh, strong, and beating within her chest. It was a slow revelation that betrayed her. She was acting like a griffon: one particular griffon to be exact. She had been brought into the world of the Changelings—there was no denying it no matter how much she wished it otherwise—and while she persisted in fighting, the Changeling continued to offer his help to her. The longer Dash allowed herself to think about it, the more ashamed of her own blatant selfishness she became. After all they had gone through, she could not let her friends learn she was a mental vegetable. There was enough grief already without adding preventable sorrow as well.
“Would thinking of walking on clouds help?” Rainbow asked, subdued.
“It might,” the doctor replied, visibly pleased she was talking more civilly to him. “To be honest I’ve never dealt with a pegasus transformation before; only Earth ponies and unicorns. They seem to get along fine after one or two tries. None for the unicorns of course.” Dash nodded, lifting herself up and letting her eyes dwell on the mirror still held above her reach. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done; imagining walking while standing still. She was an impulsive pony by nature, and whatever her head told her to do, her body was fined tuned to obey instantly. To force them apart felt like she was flipping her stomach upside down. But it was not impossible, and after a few failed attempts and deep exhales (to which the Changeling doctor encouraged her to continue trying) she felt a dull throbbing around her temples. It was not painful, but a mere presence that acted to tell her she was doing something.
“Oh, brilliant!” the doctor exclaimed, and Rainbow felt a momentary tug of resistance before her eyes opened and the mirror hovered at her precise eye-level. She supposed the dream and seeing her legs in the waking world prevented her from losing control of the magic upon her new face being revealed to her. The contours of her old bone structure were still present as were the shapes and colors of her eyes and mane, so it was not entirely an alien facade. All the same, she could not look past the fact her whole body was covered in black chitin, and her fangs and horn had a particular altering effect that she could not easily describe. Subconsciously, she brought a hoof up and tapped the point of one of said fangs. Even at so slight a touch, she could feel its pointed sharpness.
“I have no doubt it will take some time for you to get used to your new, natural appearance,” the doctor said when Rainbow did not lower the mirror, “but it has been quite a while since Her Highness departed, and I don’t think it will be long before everyling is organized and ready.”
“Will I really become a mindless drone?” Rainbow asked, leery.
“Eh, not quite,” the doctor replied. “The soldiers will, because, you see, the Hive Mind is properly a weapon of coordination. For the rest of us, you and me included, it will just be like hearing one voice of authority all at once.”
“And I don’t have to obey?” Rainbow questioned.
“No, you don’t, but I wouldn’t advise that,” he said. “Ponies are social creatures, but Changelings more so. It’s the reason very few of us are chosen as infiltrators. It takes a considerable amount of fortitude to be alone as a Changeling.”
“I... but I... I need to let my friends know,” Rainbow said, lowering her head and the mirror settling gently onto the floor and the magic holding it fading. “I don’t want them thinking I’m dead or that Chrysalis did something to me.”
“Ah, I see,” the Changeling replied. “Well, in that case, I’ll go with you to keep you sane. But it won’t matter much if we don’t prepare your mind in the first place. The procedure is simple, but can be painful if you try to fight it.”
“I think I can manage,” Rainbow said, sure that her mind would rebel against whatever the doctor was about to do.
“Come closer then, and let me touch my horn to yours,” he said. Rainbow did as she was asked, her face contorting like she had swallowed lemon juice at how sensitive her new appendage was to touch. “I am going to copy some of the general magical conditions on my mind to yours. For that, I need you to open up your magic pool first.” Again, Rainbow obeyed, feeling the pulse, less acutely than before, but still distinctly present. “Good, now brace yourself.” The doctor’s eyes clenched, and his own horn lit with the Changelings’ unique green hue. For a time, Rainbow felt nothing save the pulsing in her head actually reaching deeper into her skull at double its original pace.
The moment the pain began, Rainbow screamed. She could do nothing more. It was the only reaction that seemed appropriate. Her head felt like it was being split open dozens and dozens of times, like fire, ice, and electricity were all pouring into that wound without end. And she could not pull away. She wanted nothing more than to yank herself away from the contact, to end the agony, but she was paralyzed, numb everywhere except where the pain dictated otherwise. For what time passed—seconds, minutes, it had no relevance— the pain defined her world, and before she could truly begin to reconcile that and perhaps escape, it ended.
The other Changeling’s contact disappeared, and he leaned back, eyes averted away from her in guilt. Rainbow could only bury her sobbing face in her black hooves as hiccuping breaths wracked her body. “I’m terribly sorry,” the physician said at last. “If it’s any consolation, it means you have more spirit than a good bunch of Changeling soldiers.”
“It’s... not,” Rainbow managed between two dying gasps.
“How about I see if I can find out where your friends are?” he asked.
“You’d... yeah... that’d be great,” Rainbow said, bringing her head up, sniffling and trying to rid her face of the feeling of tear streaks. The doctor’s face took on a pre-occupied, glazed look as he no doubt took advantage of the very aspect of Changelings Rainbow now possessed via her trial.
“No, Hept! Do you know where they are or not?!” the Changeling actually yelled aloud, his face wrinkling with clear anger. “Then inform Her Majesty to hold off on the retreat order until I can get this resolved! And don’t you dare... Yes, I am fully aware I’m doing both again!” He grumbled and muttered some words Rainbow was sure were Changeling curses before his attention shifted back to her. “My apologies, I tend to think and speak when I get upset.”
“It kept it from being wierd to be honest,” Rainbow replied.
“Well, it’s generally looked upon with a bit of, mirth I suppose you would say,” he said. “But regardless of my telepathic skill, you’ll be pleased to know that Her Majesty’s Captain has had your friends shadowed for some time and is currently having his operative stop your friends so we can make it there.”
“Um... do you think you could show me how to... change... before we go?” Rainbow asked, shuffling her hooves.
“I’m sorry, my girl,” the doctor said, “I really am. Under normal circumstances, I would happy to instruct you, but the captain is unsure how long he can convince Her Majesty to hold off the retreat order. We must hurry.”
“I just don’t want my friends to see my like... this,” Rainbow said, trying her best not to sound prejudiced and unsure of how successful she was in the endeavor.
“It’s understandable, but then again, I don’t think they would be true friends if they couldn’t accept you, no matter what you looked like,” the doctor replied pointedly. “Now come on, we’re keeping more than one group waiting and anxious the longer we stay here.” The doctor galloped off, and with her only inhibition having been rebuked, Rainbow joined his run through the halls. It provided a measure of relief, especially after the ordeal she had just endured, that all of her muscles and joints moved just the way they had when she was a pony. Though she knew she was still herself—considering her thoughts were still distinctly hers and her memories had not faded into oblivion—having it confirmed in her physique proved a more stable assurance.
Her guide was confident in all of his turns, even occasionally making use of collapsed walls to jaunt over to a parallel corridor. They crossed what seemed to be a good half of the ship and climbed three stairwells before he slowed to a light trot, head moving from side to side in search of Rainbow’s old fellows. They heard them before seeing them, and at that, it was only one voice. “I am not so convinced that Rainbow Dash is on her way!” Rarity’s offended tones echoed off the surviving walls. “Unless I hear it from the mouth of Queen Chrysalis herself standing right here in front of me, I will continue to search for her by own means!”
“Calm down, Rares,” Applejack’s more reasoned voice sounded next. “I’d like to go find ‘er myself too, but we was jus’ talkin’ ‘bout hopin’ to find some Changelin’ to help us out. Let ‘em do their thang.”
“Delaying us isn’t in Chrysalis’s best interests,” Spearhead said, just as Rainbow and the doctor rounded the corner behind them. “Just cool it, and give patience a try.”
“No need my good ponies!” Rainbow’s companion joyously burst out, and Rainbow could only wince and look away from her friends as they jerked around to see from whom the voice came. “I am here with her right now!”
“I didn’t think Changelings had a sense of humor,” Spearhead said, tone aggressively low. “Stop playing games or I will lose the patience I was just saying was a good idea.”
“He’s not playing games guys,” Rainbow said shakily but still unable to look at them. “It’s me. It’s really me.”
“Stop! It’s not funny!” Fluttershy tried to yell, which tore at Rainbow’s heart more than anything any of her other friends could have said. Her oldest, most loyal companion did not even see the truth.
“You creatures have some nerve, pulling a stunt like this!” Rarity rebuked them. “Why would you do something like this to us?”
“Well, maybe you should really ask yourselves that question,” the physician said, defensive of his patient. “Is there any logical reason for us doing something like this?” None of them said anything except Pinkie, who tentatively addressed Rainbow herself.
“Can I see your eyes, Dashie?” she asked, scared but hopeful. Rainbow did not want to look. That she was well and truly a Changeling and not a pegasus was hard enough to accept without having to see the look of revulsion in the eyes of her friends. But if anypony cared genuinely for others, it was Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow wanted nothing more than to find acceptance in the hooves of her friends. She lifted her head, finding Pinkie’s own brilliant blue orbs as easily as though she had known exactly where they would be. Their eyes had not met long before Pinkie’s began to tear. She cried out and rushed over to Rainbow, embracing her with tears not of sadness, but of pure joy. “You’re okay!” she said. “I didn’t want to think the worst, cause, you know, I never think the worst, but we couldn’t find you, and I was starting to wonder if we would, which made me start thinking something bad had happened, but now—!”
She inhaled deeply to continue babbling on, but Rainbow stopped her, hugging her back and saying, “I’m glad you’re okay too, Pinks.”
“Oh... Rainbow...” Fluttershy whispered, horror struck that she may have hurt Dash. With small butterfly beats of her wings, she joined Pinkie in hugging Rainbow Dash. “You... you feel... different...” she whispered in Rainbow’s ear.
“I guess I probably do,” Dash replied, finding a small chuckle with Pinkie and Fluttershy happy to see her again.
“And you two?” Rainbow heard Spearhead say expectantly. “You her friends or not?”
“You believe them?” Rarity asked.
“Even professional deceivers can’t mimic emotion like that,” Spearhead said. “She’s a Changeling now, fillies. It’s there whether you want it to be or not, and if she were one of my friends, I wouldn’t take the chance.” Rarity and Applejack joined the group, small tears leaking out of both mares’ eyes.
“Things ain’t gonna be the same, ya know Dash,” AJ said.
“They weren’t going to be anyway,” Rainbow replied. “Not after what Aurora did.”
“Doctor Nemb,” the Changeling who had been with other Bearers addressed the physician, “Captain Hept is requesting an update. Her Majesty is growing impatient.”
“Yes, yes,” Nemb answered, “let them know the order is ready to go out.” Tapping Rainbow awkwardly on the back, he said, “It’s time for us to go.”
“Whatever does he mean darling?” Rarity asked. “You’re coming back with us aren’t you?”
“No can do, Rarity,” Rainbow said, deflating a bit with the rest upon hearing the reality of her new life. “I’m part of Chrysalis’s Hive. The doc says I’d probably lose my marbles if I left with you guys.”
“I... don’t think we have to worry...” Fluttershy said. “Chrysalis said they weren’t going too far. We’ll still see Rainbow. Right, Dashie?”
“I’ll make sure of it,” Rainbow said, gaining a bit of her old swagger back in the presence of familiar faces.
The following is a Royal Decree for all of the Mesa Hive, Chrysalis’s voice seemed to flow into Dash’s own stream of thoughts and emotions, not overtaking them, but feeling as though it were a momentary covering. All Changelings are to abandon the House of a Thousand Fangs for safer ground deeper in the Everfree Forest. Find your leaders and follow them. They are informed of where to take you.
The layer of Dash’s mind faded, the rest of the world coming into it’s normal, sharp focus. “We are leaving now,” Nemb said, motioning for Rainbow to follow.
“Try to keep Twilight from freaking out,” Rainbow said to her friends, as she backpedaled after the doctor. “And I’ll try to get in touch soon.”
“Stay safe!” Fluttershy called out, and Rainbow was forced to turn around, losing sight of her companions and with them, everything about the world she thought she knew.
“So, you say he saved you life huh?” Shining Armor said, his hooves fidgeting a bit. He had done his job. He had led Celestia and Luna’s forces to victory, and in the aftermath he was collected and calm, even if his mind struggled with the gruesome, horrifying things he had seen, the ferocity with which Aurora Streak had defended herself, and the devastation that had resulted. Those soldiers of the Guard he trusted most he had successfully divided into two teams: one to perform a detailed sweep of the downed ship’s interior and another to search out the ponies they had lost to the multi-colored magic blasts. Either mission was a harrowing one, so much so that some of those he had sent out might not return. And yet, he had not departed into the waiting hooves of possible death with them.
His duty was clear, but in that, he had one responsibility that only just superseded his role as Captain of Celestia’s Guard. Before he had ever joined the Guard, before he had ever envisioned his life as a ranking officer, he was an older brother. And at the moment, his sister needed him and Tartarus would ice over before he ignored that.
At present, they sat around what had been and would become a cookfire when night descended. It was one of hundreds scattered around the otherwise highly geometric camp, and it had become something of a gathering place for many ponies both soldier and refugee alike. It was just outside the plethora of tents of the medical ward, and the families and friends of the dead, dying, or healing invariably took up semi-permanent residence nearest those they cared for most.
“Yeah,” Twilight almost whispered. “I... I just hope they can save him. He’s not exactly a fun pony to be around, but he doesn’t deserve to die.”
“But, you told me he was an ally of Streak’s,” Shining replied, not a little perplexed. “Why would he help you?”
“He didn’t want the fighting to go on any more than we did,” Twilight said. “He told me that by going against her, he was trying to save her.”
“I’m not sure there’s much anypony can do for that hag now,” Shining said, letting out a sigh. “She’s committed more war crimes in one day than those rogue Griffon pirates did in a month. I don’t see any way out for her other than the noose.”
“I know...” Twilight replied. “It’s just... It doesn’t seem right for some reason. It’s like I’m not seeing the whole equation and my answer’s coming out all messed up because of that one invisible part.”
“Leave that to the princesses,” Shining advised. “They’ll get this mess untangled. Streak may deserve to be killed on the spot, but she’ll get a fair trial, just like any other pony.”
“Closure,” Twilight murmured, then more directly, “It’ll be good for closure. All the facts laid out.”
“Like after the Changeling invasion, with all the ones that got left behind,” Shining said. Twilight’s ears twitched nervously, and she scratched her hoof in the dirt, not looking directly at Shining.
“About that,” she said. “Well... I don’t... Maybe...” She could not seem to settle on how to begin.
“If it’s about the filly,” Shining started for her, “then you don’t have to worry. We aren’t going to do anything to her just because of the others’ choice of ally.”
“That’s not...” Twilight began, only to end abruptly. She took in a deep breath and shuttered her eyes before speaking again. “Shiny,” she said, her eyes opening and settling with iron glint onto Shining Armor’s own, “none of the Changelings are to blame for what they did. Princess Luna will probably tell Princess Celestia, but all of the Changelings Aurora used, were just that, used. She kidnapped their minds away from Chrysalis, and—”
“Whoah whoah whoah, hold on a second,” Shining interrupted with a stern tone. “Did you just say ‘Chrysalis’?”
“She helped us, BBBFF,” Twilight said. “Aurora tried to kill her, stole her subjects from her, and used them as weapons. I honestly don’t know if we would have been able to bring the ship down if she hadn’t been there to help us.”
“Why didn’t you tell me before!?” Shining very nearly exploded, keeping his composure only because he wished to avoid a scene. “You realize what’s going to happen when the Guard reaches the ship and there are Changelings all over it?”
“They’ll be gone,” Twilight replied with an amused half-smile. “Don’t worry big brother. She knew the Guard were coming, and the Changelings will have disappeared into the Everfree Forest before they ever arrive.”
“Wait, so the filly... Aw buck!” Shining swore. “She’s the queen’s... buck! She’s a bucking Changeling princess isn’t she?”
“And a very sweet filly too,” Twilight said, not without a reprimanding tone. “Though, I am surprised Chrysalis has left her with us still.”
“Well, she would know after her time as Cadence that we wouldn’t hurt her, and it’s safer for her to be in the camp than it is for Chrysalis to try to warp in to get her,” Shining reasoned. Twilight only nodded, and a brief silence fell between them. His younger sister’s gaze was, for the most part, directed at the camp and the moving of ponies as they prepared more shelters for the stream of evacuees that were now pouring out from Ponyville. From experience, Shining knew she was taking solace in the order of it all, the comfort of seeing the world restored to managed stability. But he had been a soldier for far too long to not notice her perpetual glances toward the tent into which the pegasus had been taken.
For his own part, Shining’s mind raced with all he still had yet to do. A prison was being erected where Streak herself and the ponies she had corrupted would be held and the medical wards were being hastily expanded to account for any injured Ponyvillians. The shelters for the refugee influx were coming together nicely as well, and reports had indicated the nobles back in Canterlot had actually shown themselves useful for once by assuring the other nations that the assembled armies were not for invading purposes. And yet, with everything seeming to flow as it ought after a victory, Shining had a nagging feeling in the back of his head.
He would not be so bold as to call them shadows in the dark, but there were certainly forces at work beyond that which he could see. From what his little sister had told him about Streak’s dogma, he was confident there were ponies now wholly devoted to her and who would do everything in their power to see her free. But even as he considered the possibility of dissenters, the puzzle still did not seem complete. It was as if there were secrets among an elect group and he was on the cusp of entry.
“Captain Armor, Miss Sparkle,” a stolid voice said to them, jolting Shining back to the more pressing issues of reality. Twilight was staring intensely at the surgeon Celestia had ordered see to Streak’s accomplice, while Shining merely waited for what would be the grim inevitability. As of late, he had seen far too many ponies die from wounds far less severe. “I don’t have much time to talk about the details since I need to get back as soon as possible, but I believe your friend will survive. His impairment will be severe, but we can discuss that later. It’s a miracle he’s not dead as is.”
“How long?” Shining very nearly gasped. He had been expecting a pronouncement of death, not life. “How long will he be in surgery doc?”
“Most of the day I’m afraid,” the surgeon replied. “Removing all the splinters alone without slicing him to ribbons is going to take a good five hours.”
“Thanks, doc,” Shining replied. “When you’re finished, find a runner to come get us. I’m going to get my sister to eat something, and then there’s a boat load of other crap I’ve got to deal with.”
“I’ll send somepony, you have my word, General,” the surgeon assured him before trotting rather quickly back inside the tent.
“Come on, little sis,” Shining said, throwing a hoof around her shoulder. “Princess Luna said your friends were right behind you, so they’re probably in camp by now. Let’s find them, pick up that Changeling filly from Princess Luna’s tent, and grab everypony a bite. It’ll do you good after all you’ve been through.”
“I love you BBBFF,” Twilight said, leaning against his shoulder wearily. “Promise me you’ll keep a level head when all this starts to get crazy.”
“I love too, sis,” Shining relied. “And don’t you worry. If there’s anypony whose job it is to keep a straight head, it’s me.” _____________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow had not been exactly sure what she had been expecting upon entering into the makeshift Changeling camp—she fervently denied to herself any notion of thinking of cramped underground tunnels lubricated with green slime—but the reality of the place was far from any of her imaginations. Rather than attempt to erect structures from tree branches, leaves, ferns, and the like, the Changeling army (or what remained of it) had begun boring into the bases of the larger trunks with magic to create comfortable, dry hollows. Being they were in the heart of the Equestrian portion of the Everfree Forest, not a few of the tress had trunks wide enough to house four or five Changelings comfortably.
And wherever this was possible, it had been done: squadrons naturally grouping together. Magical fires of every hue burned in pits and those Changelings not severely injured helped their maimed companions limp over to the warmth of the flames. Nemb, who walked with complete surety to where Rainbow knew not, was greeted on occasion by a soldier. Most of them, while not harmed in the recent confrontation, bore the scars and eye patches of former patients. Even as they continued to walk, Rainbow shook her head. Her thoughts were so muddled, so divided and dissonant. Part of her could never consider the creatures surrounding her brothers and sisters. She was still Rainbow Dash the pegasus in thought and deed. A second strain hated them, every one. They were not so unlike ponies as were the griffons, but it was that eerie, convoluted similarity that invited distrust. Why had she been torn from her old life to live a new one that was a blatant mockery.
And still a third set of thoughts wanted dearly to belong as one of them. It was in these notions that Dash could admit to her transformation. Not necessarily without fear, for the very idea of abandoning all she knew was enough to cause fright in even the strongest of ponies, but this part of her mind was convinced that she might actually become fond of her new Hivemates. The doctor was friendly enough, and though Lacewing could be an absolute menace at times, she was not unlike Dash had been at her age.
Only, she could not easily hold onto one of these strands of thought, for the others would incessantly force their way into her mind until she gave attention to them; and the cycle would begin over again. It was the oddest feeling, not being in complete control of one’s own thoughts. Her internal struggle kept her from noticing much in the camp except its surprising neatness and efficiency, and she thus promptly bumped into Nemb’s back when he abruptly stopped.
Having been forced into acknowledging the finer details of the goings on around her, Rainbow’s ears became privy to two voices, one distinctly belonging to a raging Chrysalis. “YOU ARE CONTINUING TO MAKE EXCUSES!” her warbling tones boomed. “THE TOWN IS IN CHAOS! DO NOT PRETEND LIKE IT WOULD HAVE BEEN DIFFICULT TO INFILTRATE THE PONY ENCAMPMENT TO FIND HER!”
“What would you have me do then, Your Majesty!?” an equally frustrated soldier fired back. Rainbow almost shielded her eyes, not exactly wanting to witness what Chrysalis would do to somep... someling so defiant. “I will not risk my Changelings to wade through the column coming toward the ship!”
But much to Rainbow’s singular surprise, Chrysalis did not strike him down, instead leaning close to his face and hissing, “If you want to keep your station, Captain Hept, you know very well what I would have you do.” The lethal softness in her voice did not reach into her infuriated eyes, but Hept held her gaze with his own hard stare for a few moments more before his brilliant blue eye shields snapped down and he stalked off. The lesser lieutenants watched and parted to allow their commander to leave the queen’s presence, giving wary time before approaching her themselves. But Chrysalis seemed to pay none of them heed, her gaze instead settling onto Rainbow.
Dash began to feel her skin crawl the longer Chrysalis stared at her, but Nemb interrupted the disturbing sensation with an abrupt hiss, “Come on. The Queen has asked us to meet her in her private chamber.”
“Uhh... Does she even have a private chamber? I mean, they’re using tree trunks for shelter,” Dash whispered back, slightly taken aback at how well her now forked tongue facilitated a softer tone.
“Everyling you see around was chosen for this mission because of our greater loyalty to Her Highness,” Nemb replied normally once they were out of earshot of the small group of officers. “If we were not good for anything else, we would have been sure to give our queen a place of privacy.” They were circling through the camp now, Nemb having picked up his pace to a light trot. He made to glance back at her once, but his gaze lingered for the briefest of seconds before he turned his eyes back to the makeshift path. “Are you nervous about something?” he asked. “Your eye shields are down.”
“Wait, what?” Rainbow asked, subconsciously squinting in an attempt to see if there were anything different about her vision.
“Of course you wouldn’t be able to tell,” Nemb anticipated her next question before it left her mouth. “That’s the beauty of them. Opaque on the outside, utterly transparent from the inside.”
“Well how do I lift them back up?” Rainbow asked irritably, sure she looked like a complete idiot. So far as she had seen, none of the other Changelings felt the need to bring the shields down.
“Stress the muscles in your head that would normally lift your eyes up, but don’t actually move your eyes,” Nemb said. “There will be a slight pressure under your skull for a moment if you do it successfully.” Rainbow did as the doctor instructed, her attunement to her body not lost even after the change. After a few seconds, Nemb looked back at her again, nodding his head in approval.
They slowed to a walk again when the Changeling squadrons around them no longer appeared to be resting, but were rather in training exercises or guard positions. “I should have told you before, but don’t worry about Hept,” the physician said.
“I wasn’t to begin with,” Rainbow answered.
“I phrased that wrongly then,” Nemb reiterated. “I mean to say, don’t worry about what Her Majesty may do to the captain. I saw you flinch when he shouted back at her. That’s probably what set your eye shields down, but like I said, don’t worry. Hept was a border patrol guard before the queen promoted him upon the death of her former captain. Because of where he was stationed, Hept is used to running his operations the way he wants. It doesn’t bother Her Majesty most of the time, but let me just say, that isn’t the worst shouting match they’ve gotten into.”
“Chrysalis doesn’t seem like the type to put up with a loud mouth like him though,” Dash said. “I wouldn’t.”
“Her other options are all old Changelings who enjoy political wrangling now more than actually performing the duties of a Captain of the Guard,” Nemb sighed. “He’s a good captain, but he’s just a tad more independent than the ones who grow up in the capital.”
“Changelings have cities?” Rainbow blurted.
“Of course,” Nemb answered. “If they managed to get my chest out of the wreckage, I have an excellent book about the evolution of Changeling architecture you might enjoy flipping through.”
“Sorry, I read Daring Do and stuff like that,” Rainbow replied, not a little proudly. “Twilight’s the one into all that egg-heady stuff.”
“Well, maybe she would like to read it then,” Nemb said. “But enough of that for now.” He stopped, Rainbow having to back pace a few steps to come level with him again. His green eyes had become dangerously icy, and Rainbow was reminded distinctly of how Rarity’s eyes became when she was about to launch into a serious lecture. Considering their destination, Rainbow had little trouble in imagining what the doctor would try to tell her.
“Woah, just chill. Let me stop you before you get all, ‘Now listen here’-y on me,” Rainbow said. “Just ‘cause I’m a Changeling now doesn’t mean I’m not Rainbow Dash, fastest flier in Equestria. You said so yourself. So don’t try telling me how to act around Chrysalis. I’ll do what I’ve always done and everyling’s going to be happy about it.” Both she and Nemb held straight, intensive looks at the other once she had finished, his face gradually breaking into a wide grin.
“I don’t think we should expect anything less,” he said. “And come to think of it, I suppose you and Her Majesty are on friendlier terms than the average Changeling. Well, come along then, if you’re going to stay yourself, I don’t think being late is something a speedster would understand.”
“Only when I want to be,” Rainbow replied with a flick of her mane, picking up a walk and coming to the fern-shielded entrance of Chrysalis’s tree. The two guards wordlessly allowed them entrance, pulling the branches back and motioning them to hurry. Rainbow and Nemb ducked inside the hollow, occupied by the queen and and three illuminating willow-the-wisps no doubt maintained by her magic. She was lying off to one side, giving room for her subjects to come and go and sit before her, but something in her somewhat clenched posture reminded Rainbow of somepony. Only a few seconds passed, in which she and Nemb took places opposite their queen, and Rainbow understood. Chrysalis, after a kind, looked like she had on the eve of her performance in the Best Young Flier’s Competition. Her eyes were not as dilated, she was not shaking, and she was certainly not attempting to curl up in a corner to hide, but it was there. It was more subtle: in the direction of her wings, the way she crossed her fore-hooves, the way her mouth hung open in a sliver. She was facing what Rainbow had felt in those moments before her performance. Outside, her Changelings expected her to take action and were confident she would lead them to glory. Except, Chrysalis was feeling what Dash knew too well: fear. There were too many variables she could not reliably influence in her favor, and the level of antagonism felt by most ponies after a second Changeling attack would prove a near insurmountable barrier.
But she’s not alone, just like I knew I could count on the support of my friends had the competition gone south in a totally different way, Rainbow thought. I can help her more than the other Changelings, and after what I did to one of them... This is my chance.
“Doctor, Rainbow Dash,” Chrysalis inclined her head to them in turn. Her voice was not shaky or indecisive, but it was heavily weighted with caution. “Since you, Rainbow, aren’t being dragged about muttering nonsense, I am trusting that the transition was smooth.”
“For the most part,” Nemb acknowledged.
“I can levitate stuff at least,” Rainbow grunted. “Still can’t fly though, and that can’t go on... at all.”
“There will be time for that,” Chrysalis half-smiled. “But even though I would have liked it to wait, the situation is forcing my hoof.”
“How?” Rainbow asked.
“I ordered my Captain to send a contingent to bring Lacewing back here,” Chrysalis managed to say, shuddering only a slight bit near the end. “They could not find her. They couldn’t find anypony in the library.”
“Don’t worry, Chrysalis,” Rainbow said, confident in her friends. “I’m positive Twilight wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”
“Or Princess Luna,” Nemb added. “As I understand it, Your Majesty, the Princess of the Night was in our aid.”
“It’s not her safety that concerns me!” Chrysalis nearly shouted. “Of course they will protect her! She is my daughter! I fear what she may say in the presence of the wrong ears!”
“Celestia...” Nemb murmured, Rainbow frowning at the mild level of distrust in his tone.
“Exactly,” Chrysalis replied. “If she learns through Lacewing that I am directly involved, she will show no mercy to us.”
“C’mon, Chrysalis,” Rainbow said, somewhat indignant and raising a perforated black hoof. Nemb winced at so direct and casual an address to the queen, but Rainbow ignored him as she pressed on, “The princess isn’t like that. She’ll see that it wasn’t your fault that Aurora took them, and hay, you helped us to keep them from killing innocent ponies!”
“But will she ignore the fact of why we agree to come in the first place, Rainbow?” Chrysalis asked. “I wanted revenge. My whole Hive wanted revenge, and Aurora was a golden opportunity to take it. I have... changed... since then, but Celestia will not ignore our original motives.”
“She still wouldn’t have you all killed!” Rainbow insisted. “There’s laws and stuff! I didn’t listen to the details because I was already bored out of my skull, but Twilight tried explaining them to me once.”
“Of course there are laws,” Nemb said. “We have ours, and Equestria has its. And that’s just the problem. Their laws don’t apply to us, so Celestia becomes the law.”
“But—!” Rainbow continued to protest, but was cut off by a sharp hiss from Chrysalis.
“Speaking as a monarch,” Chrysalis said evenly, “I would do anything to protect my Hive from what I perceived to be a threat. Celestia is also a monarch, and if she hears from Lacewing that I of all Changelings lead this army, she is right to view us as a threat.” Chrysalis paused, taking a long, deep breath that appeared to give a cleansing effect both to her body and mind. “I am at a deadlock. I cannot send a contingent of representatives. They are all soldiers and Hept’s behavior is exactly what would happen and exactly what we don’t need. I also cannot go myself, for... obvious reasons.”
“Let me go then,” Rainbow inserted herself. This had to have been why Chrysalis wanted to see her; maybe even Nemb too, since he was a doctor and far more level headed than a battle-fresh soldier. But Dash had never been the type to allow things to be hoofed to her on a silver platter, and if she was to atone for her sins, she would be the pony to take the initiative. “I’m still the Element of Loyalty, and I know Princess Celestia a lot better than any other Changeling here. And she’ll believe the other girls if it’s me they’re vouching for.”
A brief frown crossed Chrysalis’s face, but it was gone before Rainbow could accurately read why it had shown itself in the first place. It was replaced by a slight, knowing smile as Chrysalis said, “I’ll take an educated guess and say you had some idea of why I asked you to come then.” Rainbow nodded, face still determined. “Then you will have some idea of what I’m going to ask you to do next.”
“But Your Majesty,” Nemb broke in, “forgive me if I sound insubordinate, but did you not imply that approaching the princess would be too risky at the moment?”
“I did, but the payoff should I succeed outweighs the danger of actually acting,” Chrysalis replied. “I have several places I can push in negotiation, but you and Rainbow are the only keys I have to unlock the door without the castle turning on me. Get me to the table and keep everypony from losing their heads, and I can deal with the rest.”
“You are confident, Your Majesty?” Nemb asked, wishing only to confirm her set course.
“I am,” Chrysalis answered, then turning to Rainbow said, “If you do this, Rainbow Dash, you should know that the fate of your Hivemates rests in your hooves. This is a job I would normally only entrust to the most experienced of diplomats.”
“Hivemates...” Rainbow could not help but mutter to herself. Up until then, she had not been thinking of the Changelings as anything other than just that: the other Changelings. But Chrysalis had struck a chord in her that she was only used to feeling when her friends or Princess Celestia needed her most. It was the bond of belonging, and without her conscious decision to do so, she had included her new Hive in that bond. “You can count on me, my Queen,” Rainbow said, a tingling sensation flowing through her hooves at so addressing Chrysalis. It was right, natural, and an example of the loyalty she could feel still blooming. “I’m going to take a shot in the dark here, but I’m guessing you want us to bring Lacewing back as soon as we find her?”
“I can teleport back with her easily,” Nemb affirmed.
“As much as I want to see her again,” Chrysalis said, “no, keep her with you. To take her would only seem like a deception, and the game we are playing is already delicately balanced enough. Besides, she will be happy to see you, Rainbow.”
“You would like us to depart immediately then, Your Majesty?” the doctor asked.
“Wait until the majority of the patrol sent to investigate the ship has returned to their camp,” Chrysalis ordered, beginning to wave them out of her temporary quarters. “They will have taken Aurora in chains by then, and their ranks ought to be reordered. Both will give them less of a feeling of vulnerability and add to their confidence. We cannot have them feeling cornered if these negotiations are to go properly.”
“Will do, Queen,” Rainbow waved back, departing after Nemb, who took in a long breath before heading off back to the crash site. Why had she been so scared, so defiant? She knew Chrysalis for who she was and not as she had at first appeared to be, her friends did not hate her, and now she was on a mission to bridge the gap between Changelings and ponies. A burst of pride warmed Rainbow from the inside out. She was a Changeling, and as it happened, there was nothing terrible about it and quite a bit to be proud of for it. ______________________________________________________________________________
Celestia, Goddess of the Sun, Protector of the Day. These and numerous other titles bestowed upon her by the mortal ponies through the millennia rang through her mind as she secluded herself in the darkness of her tent. She was not afraid, nor was she afflicted by guilt. She believed all she had done to have been right, the best course of action considering her circumstances. But, after having overcome her elation at Celestia’s well-being, Luna had begun to pester her with questions, and their overarching meaning was most easily described in a single word: why. Why had Celestia struck out, having previously placed her confidence in Luna to settle the situation without violence? Why had everything fallen to Tartarus?
Celestia had deflected the questions at the time, citing her own personal need to rest, Luna’s responsibilities to her forces, and the oversight that would accompany Aurora’s imprisonment. Luna had understood that Celestia was merely playing for time, trying to prepare herself for what would likely descend into a heated argument between them; yet had acquiesced anyway. In the absence of any places for the Bearers to stay within the encampment, Luna had taken it upon herself to take in the Changeling filly, and Celestia was sure that combined with her other imminent duties, Luna merely had no time to address Celestia’s stalling.
But far from the obvious reasons, Celestia was grateful her sister had chosen to leave her be. Luna might well have arguments to lay against her, but she was a mare whom Celestia knew better than any other: a mare she knew she could reason with and explain herself. The same could not be said of the visitor Celestia was sure she would be receiving in a few days, possibly sooner. They had not spoken for millennia, and as she had changed greatly in that time, Celestia was sure he had as well. She was sure all of them had. She needed time to prepare for his arrival, to ready herself for his sharp, vicious rebukes. Even after explaining much of the reasons for the entire sequence of events that resulted in the destruction of the town, he would not abate. Add to it that her fight had been against Aurora, and she was not sure if he would be able to restrain himself from physically striking her. Even after all the time since their coup d’etat and her and Luna’s ascension to the throne of Equestria, he still saw himself as their leader. He always would, Celestia assumed.
So she sat within her tent, silently contemplating how she was to deal with his coming in addition to managing the housing of all the Ponyville refugees, Aurora’s imprisonment and the sweep of her vessel, the orderly release of the assembled armies, and an investigation of how Changelings had been wrapped up in the whole mess. It was a daunting list, even for her, and as such, she needed quiet time to organize herself into a measure of grace under pressure.
But as was so often the case, she was not to be granted that which she was desired. Her eyes lifted up from their closed meditation and her ears swiveled forward as a slight commotion sounded outside. Metal ground against metal as her guards slid their halberds to the side to block the entrance. “To Tartarus with you! Both of you!” the rough, disgruntled voice of Luna’s choice captain, Spearhead shouted at the guards. “There’s news from the Bearers for her ears only!”
“No one is to disturb the princess,” one them stated with an effort of tonelessness, though he failed before a pony respected throughout all the guard. It was at that moment Celestia had crossed the threshold of her tent, peaking out to the general shock of the guards and hard stare of Spearhead.
“Your Majesty,” Spearhead acknowledged her with a light bow. “Shining assigned two dolts to the tent.”
“That’s enough, General,” Celestia said, raising a hoof before he could continue indulging in further insults. “I heard you from inside.” She allowed her eyes to drift upward, they expectantly settling upon four ponies clearly relieved to see her up and about. Wait, four. Where is Rainbow Dash? “General, Rainbow Dash seems to have wandered off in the bustle of coming into the camp.” She turned an understanding smile upon the two guards at her sides, saying, “You did just as Shining Armor told you, and for that, I am very pleased. Now, go find Miss Dash. She won’t be hard to find, I assure you.”
“At attention colts!” Spearhead barked the conflicting order just as they were about to take the first step. “Princess,” he continued, tone having shifted to a markedly darker shade. “I did not lose Miss Dash in the camp.”
It was enough to reignite righteous flames in her chest which Celestia had only just managed to douse in the aftermath of the battle. To attack any of her precious ponies was a crime she would punish with all of her judicial power. To do as much to her sister was a fool’s gambit, earning the wrath of Celestia’s considerable resevoir of raw magical power. But to make a strike against Harmony itself—to dare inflict injury upon those that aided her and her sister in keeping the world in peace and balance—was to invite upon oneself the full weight of the might of the sun itself.
Celestia’s face, which had previously reflected her compassion on the guards for having not met Spearhead’s standards, shifted to cold and fury-masking. “Do as he orders,” Celestia said to the guards as she waved the Bearers to her. “Nopony comes within three yards of this tent on any side. If you must, you have my authority to enlist others to be sure that distance is maintained.”
“Your Majesty!” the superior of the two saluted. Celestia retreated back inside her temporary and modest dwelling, allowing Spearhead to hold open the flap for the four Bearers. She scrutinized each of them in turn as they took seats around the tent, looking for any trace emotion that might possibly give her at least some vague idea of what had befallen Rainbow Dash. She was not dead, of that much Celestia could be sure through her own connection the Elements. No crippling wound had been inflicted upon her either, else the four before her would have gone to excruciating lengths to carry her back. In fact, so far as Celestia could tell, none of the four ponies were in any kind of mourning. They were devastated—that much likely having come from the desolation of their hometown—uncertain, and in a mild state of shock, but it told Celestia nothing of Rainbow Dash’s fate. Indeed, reaching as far as she thought practical, the only thing she thought might be linked to Rainbow’s peculiar absence was rather simple: sadness. A sadness of the type Celestia felt when, after being reunited with her sister after so long, Luna insisted upon taking diplomatic trips on her own and thus was gone for extended periods of time.
Her contemplations were interrupted when, upon snapping the tent flaps securely shut, Spearhead took a place directly opposite Celestia and said, “Just to keep you from thinkin’ anything really nasty happened, Miss Dash isn’t dead.”
“I have a connection to the Elements that would have let me know if that were the case,” Celestia nodded in reply, “but thank you for you concern. Where exactly is she though?” The four friends exchanged nervous, shifting glances at one another, clearly not wanting to be the first to speak. Celestia sensed they were not afraid per se, but merely unsure of how she might take the as yet, mysterious piece of news.
“She’s your friend, fillies,” Spearhead broke the extended quiet. “I don’t think she’d be too happy knowing none of you had the guts—”
“Shesintheeverfreeforest!” Fluttershy burst out, far too quickly for Celestia to catch.
“What now?” she asked. “Where is Rainbow?”
“In the Everfree Forest, Princess,” Rarity stepped in for Fluttershy. “Please forgive me for being rather blunt in a moment, but, for the sake of Rainbow and in respect for whatever Princess Luna’s wishes in the matter may be, I will say no more.”
“Ya still manage ta serprise me sometimes, Rarity,” Applejack nodded in approval.
“You can trust me with anything, you know, my little ponies,” Celestia said, noticing her fury slowly mix with anxiety.
“Just like Ponyville,” Rarity said, snapping a hoof over her mouth immediately after and flinching away preemptively from Celestia. “I’m so sorry, Princess!” she retracted. “I don’t what came over me! I don’t why I would ever say such a thing.”
You win, Aurora, Celestia thought plainly, bowing her head so the five ponies would not see a single tear mix with her flowing mane. You have shaken the faith of even my devoted champions. You win. “There is no need to apologize, Rarity Belle,” Celestia said, feeling that odd combination of emotions of anger and kindness. “I deserve every insult you could think to scream at me. I deserve worse. I have not failed Equestria so horribly in one thousand years, and all of your anger you have every right to direct at me.”
“Silly Princess,” Pinkie said, and Celestia started when a comforting pink hoof was placed on her shoulder. “Everypony makes mistakes. Of course, most mistakes don’t end up with battles destroying towns and ponies... dying... but you can’t blame only yourself. That meanie pants Aurora hurt ponies too.”
“Yes, but I wonder if she would have had I not struck first,” Celestia replied.
“Um, I thank I’d be speakin’ for most everypony when I say Aurora swung first by kidnappin’ a whole town,” Applejack said.
“Thank you, all of you, for staying by me,” Celestia said, “but you did not come here to so I could lay my troubles at your hooves.”
“Rainbow Dash is as safe as she can be, Princess,” Rarity reiterated. “And we will tell you everything when we can meet with all of us present. It just so happens that her situation is very... delicate... especially now, and I don’t want another battle when there is no need.”
“You and I agree then on that,” Celestia replied. “My sister is occupied with keeping safe a Changeling filly she and Twilight found before the battle, but now that you, General, are back, I think we can trust you to take command of the re-grouping.”
“That’s the job description,” Spearhead said.
“Good, that ought to give Luna some time to meet with all of us,” Celestia continued, already arranging learning about Rainbow into her list of priorities. “It will likely take a day or so before we can discuss what has happened to Rainbow Dash. I’m sure you met a troop contingent on your way here?”
“We did,” Fluttershy answered. “They were all so unhappy looking.”
“They were on their way to take Aurora Streak into official custody and safely escort her back here,” Celestia said, rather stiff at mention of Aurora’s name. “I don’t think I need to explain how long dealing with her imprisonment will take.”
“Throw her in the dungeon!” Pinkie exclaimed dramatically.
“We will this time,” Celestia assured Pinkie. “But there is interrogation, filing the charges, and the trial itself. Most of that can take place later, but I need to oversee the interrogation personally. You all understand, yes?”
“Scare her silly, Princess,” Applejack growled.
“I’m not sure much scares her, dear Applejack, but I have my ways,” Celestia replied. “But enough about her. We’ve wasted enough words on her already. While you all are waiting for my summons, take care of Twilight.”
“You don’t have to ask us to do that Princess,” Fluttershy said with a slight smile. “She’s our friend. We would do that anyway.”
“I know,” Celestia returned the smile, “but she is taking that stallion’s injuries for her sake rather hard. Lift her spirits. She needs it more than the rest of us after so close a call.”
“Will do, Princess Celestia!” Pinkie accepted her challenge with much gusto.
“She’s probably near Shining Armor’s tent or wherever he asked her to stay after I sent for him to be in charge of Aurora’s prison,” Celestia suggested as they all stood, turning for the exit. “Spearhead, please lead them there on your way to the headquarters for the Army of the Moon.”
“Brace yourself, Your Majesty,” he said grimly just before giving her over to silence once more. ______________________________________________________________________________
Unlike many ponies who were too afraid to take the measure of another upon a first encounter, Aurora Streak believed that what one showed in first meeting somepony else was the most revealing, and consequently, the best time to build one’s opinion of a new individual. Her philosophy in this regard had served her well, as it had given her valuable insight into the characters of Celestia, Luna, Inky Jay, and numerous other, lesser ponies. Thus, when Celestia’s guards had arrived to retrieve her injured body for their master, Aurora had immediately adopted a fiercely cold indifference. They were inferior creatures, worse than even the masses of the ignorant, and Aurora had no desire to be prodded by their mindless devotion warped into blind stupidity.
She spoke not a word to them as the commanding officer ordered her broken legs and ribs be wrapped in bandages and a litter scavenged to carry her from the wreckage. Much to Aurora’s satisfaction, they dared not remove her armor. Nevertheless, constant scowls and furious glares were plastered over the faces of each guard in the contingent whenever they were forced to lay eyes upon her. Per their loyalty to Celestia, it was no doubt that they hated her for what they believed her to have done. But Aurora had known the soldiers of Equestria were already lost to her cause before she had ever arrived in Celestia’s lands. What mattered were the few among the thousands, the few that would question why a battle had been needed at all, the few that would begin simply questioning the reasons behind this single act of Celestia. Aurora had failed in her quest to turn Equestria to the side of truth, but she maintained her dignity and took solace in knowing she had paved the way for somepony else to take up the mantle which had fallen from her.
If only it could be Twilight Sparkle, she thought, staring at the blank wall of her cell, back facing the entrance to the makeshift prison. Then my satisfaction would be ultimate. Alas, she cannot see past the ideal I pursue to see that there are those that would stand against that ideal, and that for the pursuit to be straight the obstacles must be destroyed. Indeed, I doubt I will ever know the name of the one whose heart these events will have set in motion. Celestia will execute me far too soon for me to see my dreams of truth and equality realized.
Or will she? I suppose I still have a right to imagine she will keep me alive. If she is thinking about how the masses will see her now, she may very well wish to avoid my slaughter, if only to cease the flow of blood on her hooves. Still, if she does not have me slain, she will not send me into exile again, where I might begin anew. I will be kept locked away in a dungeon forever by Celestia’s fear. Of course, should another of capability and understanding take up that which I was unable to see through, I may yet see the light of a new world. That depends upon whether I am forgotten in the interim, but I would hope, if even in infamy, my name goes down in history.
Outside, in the imperfection of the material world so many insisted was beautiful, the two dozen or so guards straightened their stances; or so it seemed to Aurora by the scraping of their hooves on dirt. “Prin... Princess!” one of the ponies stammered.
“We were expecting an officer, Your Majesty,” another, steadier guard said.
“Are you saying I am not allowed to speak to the prisoner of my own kingdom?” Celestia’s stern voice rang out in response.
Just like her to say something like that, Aurora thought, eyes narrowed.
“No, Your Majesty,” the stiff soldier answered. “We were only surprised by your coming personally.”
“She went to great lengths to harm my ponies, both mentally and physically,” Celestia said. “If anypony will be going in her cell, it is me.”
“Of course. Open the locks!” the officer shouted at those closest to the magically reinforced bars of Aurora’s cage. Several horns echoed with magic behind her. A hissing escaped the air as the magic lacing the bars was removed and multiple keys inserted into the physical locks. The horrible screeching of ill-lubricated metal parts stung Aurora’s ears as Celestia entered the cell and the bars were closed back again. She was well aware of the princess standing immediately behind her, but refused to be the first to speak. It was Celestia, not she, who had begun all of their confrontations. She had, at any rate, nothing to say to the Sun Princess. Celestia already understood all of her motivations and beliefs.
But, much to Aurora’s growing intrigue, Celestia was holding her tongue as well. Perhaps she was merely here to take pleasure at seeing Aurora in chains again, or it might be she was unsure of how to speak to the pony she despised more than any other. Or are you afraid of my voice, Celestia? Afraid that the false truth you have crafted for yourself will be broken beyond repair by the words I speak. Does you feeling of self-righteousness begin to falter? Do you lose confidence in your declarations of what is right? Are you afraid that what I shall say shall be the final dropping pin that shatters the waiting pane of cracked glass?
“How did you transform from a filly who so loved science into the monster sitting before me?” Celestia’s voice cut through Aurora’s thoughts, they filled with barely contained rage.
“I am not sitting before you, Celestia,” Aurora answered. “That implies I am facing you, as a repentant foal. I am resolute. And to answer the first question you have asked of me, I discovered there was a truth beyond the world in which we live. One that was not tied to living things. Something that exists in the realm of the metaphysical. Are you going to ask me something other than that which you already know the answer to? I have no doubt you read the copies of my notes you found when you arrested me and the others. I said as much in them.”
“You dared press into fundamentals of the world, and yet even after all the disasters your reckless insolence has caused, you still push!” Celestia roared, her royal tones mightier than any other heard by ponykind.
“The disasters caused were not by my doing, but by those who feared that I may shake their half-truths to dust and who thereby sought to stop me,” Aurora growled back.
“You refuse to alter your ways and your pursuits, even after all you do inevitably causes desolation!” Celestia shouted.
“And a good thing too, as truth and the ideals it reveals will never alter themselves either,” Aurora replied.
“How do you answer for all of the murders you committed in Ponyville!?” Celestia boomed. “You deliberately slaughtered hundreds of innocents!”
“Life is not in and of itself sacred,” Aurora said blankly. “Many of the dead were burdens upon the world with their lack of motivation for higher being, understanding, and ability. If it were within my power, I would have all unwilling to take steps into greater life slain.” Celestia did not answer, but Aurora could hear her breath shuddering in shock and revulsion. She had expected as much. Celestia was lost in a lie where everything had meaning and value. Aurora knew otherwise: that much of the world was populated by life that effectively acted only to dilute the life that had true meaning.
“If I had the authority, I would kill you here and now,” Celestia hissed, only just audible. “Even when Luna was Nightmare Moon, she was far less a monster than you!”
“You see it that way only because you understood Luna’s violence and revolution as senseless destruction,” Aurora said, allowing a single tear to fall at the mention of Luna’s corruption. “You deny my truth, do not allow yourself to see it as the truth it is, and therefore, cannot rationalize why I fight, no matter the manner or the outcome.”
“I had hope that you—” Celestia started.
“And that... is why you will never see the truth,” Aurora interrupted.
A pause. “You will be executed, Aurora Streak, by authorities of my caliber. If you wish to die swiftly, I suggest you be honest when the official interrogator comes.” The screech of the cell bars sounded again, and Celestia’s hoofsteps retreated away from Aurora. She closed her eyes once again, sinking back into the sanctuary of enlightenment that was her own mind. So, she was to die. She was to be executed. So be it. The beginning ideas that had allowed her to reach the level of truth she now rested upon had been planted in hundreds of ponies, not a few with significant place in the world. The chances for a reformation, a broad revelation, were not utterly vanished, and through that, Aurora could accept her fate. ______________________________________________________________________________
Twilight sat alone outside her brother’s private tent. For her analytic’s mind, simply watching the variety of soldiers mill about in their assigned tasks provided an odd measure of comfort. She wished somepony, anypony, was willing to merely sit with her. There would be no need for conversation, games, or any other activity. As much as she wanted to remain strong on her own, too much bore down upon her soul, and to have another pony whom she could trust sitting beside her would be just the extra support that would let her withstand the assault of emotions.
Shining had tried to be the brother Twilight had always remembered, but the aftermath of the battle and the ensuing swarms of Ponyville refugees were taxing the two army’s logistical capabilities. Not too soon after having left the rows of medical tents behind, a lesser officer had come, saluted, spotted off a string of military jargon, and Shining’s mouth had gradually descended into a dissatisfied frown. “Ah, crap,” he had muttered, turning to Twilight, “Can I ask you to wait at my tent for a bit? They’ve dragged Aurora out of the ship and they want my shields worked into the prison bars.”
“I get it, Shining,” Twilight had answered sincerely. “You go. I can meet the girls myself.”
“Ah… No, I don’t want you anywhere out in the open when Streak comes into camp,” Shining had replied. To Twilight’s questioning stare, he had continued, “It’s going to be a madhouse, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a few ponies tried to murder her before we put her in the cell. I don’t want you out where you could get caught in something like that. And before you argue about it, I’m not going to let you sit in possible harm’s way when there’s a way for you to keep out of it.”
“What about the girls?” Twilight had asked. “Won’t they be out in the open when they come back?”
“Good ol’ Spearhead’s with them,” Shining had allowed himself a chuckle. “He’ll be thinking along the same lines if he hasn’t gotten them to see Princess Celestia first.”
“Where’s your tent then?” Twilight had asked, having sounded not a little resigned.
“Lieutenant Radish can take you there,” Shining had motioned to the officer, directing the statement to the pony as an order as much as a reassurance to Twilight.
“Follow me, Ma’am,” the soldier had perked up immediately upon Shining’s galloping departure, and Twilight had done so.
The camp had indeed become a bustle of reckless activity shortly after her arrival, ponies shouting and not a few grabbing spare weapons from outside their tents only to be hollered at and scolded by their commanding officers. But now, everything had returned to normal, and she had not seen nor heard of her friends. Part of her was beginning to worry for them, but it was buried and mashed in with all of the other feelings and thoughts coursing through her mind to the point all she could do was continue to wonder about them. The sheer pressure of all that had happened and all that was implied in the coming days, or even hours, was on the verge of lowering her head in silent sobs when an all too characteristic accent rang out.
“Well, wan’t the princess right ‘bout you?” Applejack asked, concern etched in her words. “ ‘sokay Twi. Ya need ta talk, we’re here for ya.”
“Girls!” Twilight’s head yanked up in the direction of the voices, and seeing her friends, Twilight’s hooves carried her into their embraces almost of their own accord. “Oh thank Celestia you all are okay! I just… I… there’s so much that’s going to happen… How is Aurora going to be dealt with? What does she deserve? How can they even fairly try her? What about Chrysalis? How do we tell the Princess? And the Devices! The ship! I—”
“Calm down, silly,” Pinkie giggled, putting a light hoof over Twilight’s mouth. “We can all take it on together. We’d be pretty bad friends if we weren’t here to help you figure it all out.”
Twilight’s head, still spinning slightly from the release she had just allowed herself, turned to Rarity as she added, “Yes, dear, you don’t have to do it all alone. We can help, and we will help, or by all of Equestria, I do not understand fashion!”
“Thanks, girls! I think I’d be a pretty useless wreck by now without all of you,” Twilight said, grasping them all for a second hug. “Wait...” she said, pulling away in confusion. “Where’s Rainbow Dash? Why isn’t she with you? Did she go to see Lacewing?”
“She’s with a Changeling, just not Lacewing,” Fluttershy said, uncharacteristically dodging the question.
“Who? Did Chrysalis send somepony back in disguise to....” Twilight trailed off. Her friends were all exchanging glances with one another: uneasy, unsure glances. Something had happened to Rainbow, and they were all trying to figure out the best way to break the news to Twilight. “Was... was she hurt too badly for you to carry her back?” she asked. “Did you have to leave her with Chrysalis and the other Changelings?”
“We had to leave her with them, yes,” Rarity chose to speak first.
“But she’s healthy as a dragon with a tummy full of gems,” Pinkie grinned rather unconvincingly.
“Oh hay, Twilight. This yer brother’s tent?” Applejack asked, stomping a hoof in impatience.
“Yes, why?” Twilight querried.
“This’s fer friend’s ears only,” Applejack replied, brushing aside the tent flap to enter. “We decided to not even tell the princess ‘til we was all together to tell tha whole thing.”
“Come on, Twilight, it’s not as bad as we’re probably making it sound,” Fluttershy said, taking Twilight’s hoof and leading her, bemused and anxious, into the tent. Her other two friends followed, Rarity taking extra care to be sure the flap was secure once they were all situated as comfortably as possible in what was effectively a military minimalist bedroom.
“Okay, what’s going on with Rainbow?” Twilight asked, her tone steadily growing more irritable. “You said she was fine, but not able to come back with you. And why the hay would Chrysalis take her instead of leaving her to be picked up by the military force that was going to get Aurora? And why are you all so calm about it?”
“Well, we can’t really be angry,” Fluttershy replied, wringing her hooves, “and being upset just seems silly since she’s not really hurt.”
“Speak for yourself dear,” Rarity said. “I may be able to accept what happened, but I’m still trying to overcome the shock and all the implications.”
“Twi,” Applejack ignored bantering, “Rainbow Dash got ‘erself bit by a Changelin’ again. And there weren’t anypony ‘roud to be makin’ potions and stuff. She’s one of ‘em.”
“She’s... Wait... Rainbow Dash—” Twilight stuttered, trying to collect her thoughts into something coherent. “A CHANGLING! CHRYSALIS LET MY FRIEND TURN INTO ONE OF HER LITTLE... LITTLE—!”
“Calm down, Twilight!” Pinkie Pie hissed, for once trying to keep everypony quiet.
“CALM DOWN!” Twilight could not help but explode. “YOU WANT ME TO CALM DOWN! HOW CAN YOU GIRLS TAKE IT LIKE IT’S NOTHING! I TRUSTED CHRYSALIS, AND SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO TELL ME HERSELF OR EVEN SAVE RAINBOW DASH! SHE’S THEIR QUEEN! DON’T TELL ME SHE COULDN’T HAVE STOPPED THE TRANSFORMATION IF SHE DIDN’T WANT TO!”
“She’s in her right mind!” Applejack tried to break in as Twilight paused to take a breath.
“Yeah, she hasn’t been all droopy-googly eye mind controlled!” Pinkie supported Applejack.
“Twilight, dear, Rainbow Dash wasn’t exactly thrilled about having transformed, but she seemed to have accepted it better than the rest of us, and if anypony had reason to be furious, it would be her,” Rarity made an attempt to keep Twilight from shouting again.
She ignored her friend and continued in the only volume she found appropriate for her building anger, “WELL OF COURSE SHE’S TAKING IT WELL! IT’S A HIVE MIND! CHRYSALIS MAKES THEM THINK WHATEVER SHE WANTS THEM TO THINK!”
“It don’ thank it works like tha’ Twi,” Applejack said.
“AND SINCE WHEN ARE YOU THE EXPERT ON CHANGELING TELEPATHY!” Twilight lanced out. “Chrysalis is not getting away with this,” she growled. “How dare she! How dare she! Now that my magic isn’t impaired, I’ve got a few spells I’m going to shove up her—!”
A powerful, solid hoof flew from one of her friends, colliding with the side of her head and knocking her onto her side, lights blinking in her eyes. From the force, Twilight was sure it had been Applejack who had hit her, but it was Fluttershy’s petitely angry voice which met her ears. “How dare Chrysalis?” she cried out, tears gathering in her voice. “I’m ashamed of you Twilight. Chrysalis was trying to help Dashie through the whole process. She sent a doctor and everything to make sure Rainbow stayed safe. And I think I am the expert when it comes to knowing Rainbow Dash.”
“You got some force in that there hoof o’ yers,” Applejack gasped, her voice both surprised and impressed. “Never woulda thought.” Twilight said nothing to either of them, massaging her head as she sat back up.
“You can’t be serious!” Twilight argued back, now looking directly at Fluttershy’s wet eyes. “How can you just accept it all like that?”
“You said it yourself,” Fluttershy replied. “Trust. I’ve trusted in Rainbow Dash more than anypony I’ve ever known, and just recently, I learned I could trust Chrysalis. I saw her eyes, Twilight, and they were Rainbow Dash... through and through.”
“The general wasn’t worried about it, Twilight,” Rarity pushed. “And he’s a military pony by trade, and I dare say he’s had his fair share of sorties against Changelings. I am sure he knows what mind-control and the like look like, and he did not fear something sinister had happened.”
“What could we do ta convince ya it’s all alright?” Applejack asked, confident they would be able to provide an answer. Twilight stared rather dumbfounded at her friends. Her entire mind rebelled against the idea that Rainbow was a Changeling, more so that she was still self-conscious. But that tiny voice in her head, the one which helped her ignore the odds when they faced impossible foes in the name of Princess Celestia and Harmony itself, made it’s presence known then. Her friends were not merely convinced of Rainbow Dash’s safety and well-being, they believed in them. They had seen her, talked with her presumably, and they continued to believe she was not in danger. Rainbow Dash was the Bearer of the Element of Loyalty, and the least Twilight could do for her now was to support, not doubt her: it was her turn to reciprocate that trait which Dash so well exemplified.
“Oh... I... Wait a minute!” Twilight’s voice brightened considerably. “You want to give me proof that Rainbow is okay? If she is still connected to the Element of Loyalty, that will seal it for me.”
“Goody!” Pinkie Pie cheerfully hugged Twilight. “See, it was a bit of a shock for everypony when we saw her, but we came around. We knew she was still the same old Rainbow Dash.”
“Hay, if that’s as simple as you need, more power to ya,” Applejack said. “Path to the library ain’t too far, why don’ ya lead the way.”
“Is it safe in the... rubble?” Fluttershy asked, shaking at being able to only refer to Ponyville as a ruin.
“I don’ see no reason why it wouldn’ be,” Applejack answered. “The place’s been cleared out.”
“We’ll be in a group, so I don’t think looters will try anything,” Twilight said, striding to and out the exit. Her friends followed, and Twilight took sure steps while still within the confines of the camp of the Armies of the Sun and Moon. Why would Chrysalis just let it happen? Twilight could not shake the question as she walked. Even if Dash was still herself, still the loyal, brash friend she always had been, the question remained unanswered. Surely she could have stopped it, Twilight began to muse, only being marginally aware of the world shifting from order to abandoned chaos. She’s a Changeling Queen after all. If any of them would have power over a transformation, it would be her. Maybe she didn’t want to change Rainbow back. She might talk the talk, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Chrysalis thought it would be fitting revenge for Rainbow to replace the Changeling she killed.
Her brow was furrowed now, imaging the smirk of Chrysalis’s face as she watched Dash writhe from the transformation. Or, a less harsh part of her mind intruded on the image, Rainbow may have been injured. Remember the autopsy reports after the invasion? The doctors examining the bodies observed even posthumous healing. If Rainbow was hurt in the fight, transformation might have been Chrysalis’s only option.
You’re letting friendly emotions cloud your judgement, her head countered itself. She’s still the monarch of a powerful nation, so who’s to say that the way she acted when she was living with everypony wasn’t just an act. She’s a Changeling for Pete’s sake! They are born actors!
But you can’t fake real friendship. You ought to know that from the Elements. No, Chrysalis was sincere when she was with us. Maye your friends are right. You just need to see Rainbow and talk to her.
And Chrysalis.
“Twilight, stop for a second!” a hissed warning partially reached her ears, but she was too absorbed in her own thoughts to take real note of it.
“Twilight, dear! I... Applejack!” screamed a second voice, undoubtedly Rarity’s as Twilight was jolted back into reality by her sturdy friend bowling into her and and flattening her to the ground. Just where Twilight would have been standing, a crossbow bolt buried itself in the ash covered ground. Though blocked partially by Applejack’s protecting body, Twilight was able to crane her head to see eight Equestrian soldiers emerging from the ruins. Only one was a pegasus—he having been the one to wield the crossbow—and the remaining seven were earth ponies. All were heavily armored vanguards, dual spears latched like jousting poles onto their plate.
“You ruffians!” Rarity screamed again, six spearheads surrounding her, Pinkie, and Futtershy. “Accosting young mares for your own enjoyment! I—!”
“Silence!” one her captors spat, slicing her cheek with one of his weapons. The other ponies had now surrounded Twilight and Applejack, and from their severe expressions, there was no doubt standing silent was what they required. With a few pointed nudges, Twilight managed to keep Applejack quiet as they brought themselves to their hooves, now able to look the stallions in the eyes. She had not wanted to fear the worst, but seeing all of their irises colored in the exact same brilliant red hue, Twilight was unable to keep hold of more hopeful explanations. These ponies were victims to Aurora’s weaponized Element of Loyalty, and were acting as such.
“What does Aurora want?” Twilight controlled her voice to make it as flat as possible.
“We have no commands from her at the moment, but she has been captured, and since we’re pretty sure you all would try to stop us if we attempted a rescue, we decided to take you out first,” the pegasus answered, the fervor of his conviction more pronounced than even that of a sun or moon cultist.
“So yer, jus’ gonna kill us in cold blood? Is tha’ it?” Applejack rounded on the commander.
“No, I’m going to execute you,” he replied. “Kneel.”
“You aren’t yourself,” Twilight began saying, only to have her legs swept out from under her by a spear shaft.
“You guys are loyal to Princess Celestia, like me. You’re loyal to Equestria, right?” Pinkie tried to reason with them as her group was met with similar treatment.
“She’s got that last bit right, sir,” one of the Earth ponies said. “You sure we ain’t goin’ a bit far without the Mistress’s approval?”
“They brought down her vessel!” the pegasus snapped to his subordinate. “If they are not killed now, we will all regret it later.” He grasped his bow’s reloading bar, pulling it back and knocking a bolt into place. Next to her, Applejack’s muscles were tightening while Twilight herself made ready the energy needed to shield both of them. She hoped Rarity had enough magic and spells to protect herself, Pinkie, and Fluttershy when the inevitable confusion erupted. Only, the alarmed shouts of the Earth ponies and shriek of Fluttershy came before Twilight launched her spell: before the crossbow’s trigger had been pulled.
She whipped her head to her left, the sound reaching her ears before the magic appeared. It was massively powerful, judging by the sound alone, and that very characteristic kept Twilight from lowering her defensive readiness. A heavily warped, baritone buzz crashed down upon the ears of everypony present moments before a translucent wall of verdant magic took shape and flew at the assembled. The soldiers were trying to outrun the pulse, but Twilight knew they would never be able to do so on hoof. Grabbing Applejack’s leg, Twilight warped to Fluttershy and the others. “Make a chain! Hurry!” she hollered, cracking them all into a warp the very second she saw Pinkie’s hoof touch Rarity’s. It was over relatively quickly, Twilight having chosen to teleport within the safety of a half-destroyed house already passed over by the pulse, but having so rapidly transported all of her friends, she felt ready to dry heave. Only consciously measured breaths kept back the urge.
“I ain’t ever seen magic that... forceful,” Applejack whispered from where she and Pinkie peaked through the wreckage.
“And Aurora doesn’t count,” Pinkie agreed. “So where’s the nice pony who saved us? I didn’t see anypony up ahead when we were ambushed.”
“Well... it was an ambush,” Fluttershy put in.
“Hold on,” Twilight mumbled, her legs quivering slightly as she joined her two friends. She was just in time to watch the pulse pass through the last soldier, collapse in on itself, and wink out of existence. The pony joined his comrades in arms in ashy dirt, unconscious. “That wasn’t just a stun pulse,” she said, craning her neck for any other way to see through the half-destroyed walls. “It was strong enough that I felt it when I was teleporting, and I’ve only ever felt that kind of magical power around the Princesses. And it was green magic. I only know one pony who might be able to pull off something like that. Chrysalis has to be close.”
“With all she has to do, I highly doubt—Twilight, look!” Rarity exclaimed with a last minute attempt at being more quiet. She jabbed her hoof at the path where the incapacitated ponies lay. All five of them peered through a sizeable hole in the mortar, eyes growing wider and wider with every passing second. Something akin to a dull green shadow moved across the earth, twisting like a snake to avoid contact with any of the ponies; and in its wake, purple flowers sprang from the earth, blossomed, fell away, and died within the span of a few seconds. “I’m bettin’ tha farm tha’ wann’t tha queen,” Applejack said as the shadow vanished in the direction of the camp.
“We have to catch it!” Pinkie exclaimed. “We never got to say thank you!”
“I don’t think we were supposed to escape...” Fluttershy wimpered. “Twilight, what was it?”
“Never mind any of that,” Twilight said, already climbing over the wall and urgently motioning for her friends to follow at an equal pace. “We can’t let a magic anomaly like that get near so many ponies!”
“An—an anomaly?” Rarity’s voice quivered. “Are you absolutely sure Twilight?”
“No, I’m not since I’ve never seen one, but after all the magic used in the battle, I wouldn’t be surprised,” the words rolled in nervous rapidity off Twilight’s tongue.
“Mind explainin’ what the hay an ananamoly is?” Applejack grunted as she helped Pinkie over the crumbling wall.
“It’s an anomaly,” Twilight corrected, “and it’s a very rare phenomenon that has happened in places where a lot of magic was used within a relatively small space. Nopony has ever studied one because it’s next to impossible, but somehow, the magic in an oversaturated area... well it lumps together and goes around trying to grow until it can’t sustain itself and implodes.”
"Basically, it ain’t friendly or nothin’,” Applejack concluded.
“You have a plan to deal with the doohicky, right Twilight?” Pinkie asked, they all now beginning to gallop back the way they had come.
“I’m working on it,” Twilight grunted in concentration of doing just that. Her mind was grinding a furiously fast pace, tossing options in and out like she was sorting through garbage just to find that forgotten gem. Magic was completely out of the question, as that would only make the situation worse and with both princesses present, likely not even draw the anomaly away. How? How could she stop something that could not be touched, either physically or arcanely?
“Oh the luck of Princess Celestia!” a voice burst out behind the five of them. It was a voice she had not heard since the battle aboard Aurora’s vessel, and one she had both desired and feared hearing again. But even so, it had the same effect upon them all: digging their hooves into the ash and flinging themselves around to see her.
Twilight could not help the sharp intake of breath that accompanied her seeing Rainbow Dash, now in full Changeling form. Her eyes, mane, and tail still glowed with that semi-arrogant bravado; but the glossy, black chitin and membranous wings cast a distinctly darker tone over her. She accompanied by a second Changeling Twilight did not recognize: one which was markedly more reserved than Rainbow herself. Even as her friends rushed forward to embrace Rainbow, Twilight’s sides warred, keeping her held in place. She simply could not know without the affirmation of the Element of...
The Elements! They were the key. Twilight knew they were a form of magic, as Aurora had so keenly demonstrated during the battle, but they were a magic far beyond what even the princesses could wield single-hoofedly. If not capable of destroying the anomaly outright, they would at least draw it out of the camp. “Girls, we need to head back to the library, now!” Twilight hollered, infusing her words with as much urgency as she could muster. She purposefully avoided looking directly at Rainbow, doubt plaguing her even more now that she was so close at hoof. Nevertheless, whether they noticed Twilight’s awkward avoidance of Rainbow, all of them took heed of her desperation and galloped deeper into the town.
Well, it is no wonder she chose to attack Streak, he mused as he walked quite purposefully through the military encampment. A pony army of this size is unprecedented. I suppose this was why Ius said the griffons were becoming unnerved. I hope she at least considered she would scare the bird-cats out of their mortal minds. I would rather not heap that onto her sins at any rate.
These and other more personal and comparatively trivial thoughts brushed across his greater consciousness as he strolled amongst the ponies. None of them bothered him or gave him strange looks, which provided him mild satisfaction that his ability to conceal his greater power had not entirely deserted him in his thousands of years of seclusion. Instead of his far more imposing form, all they would see would be a plain brown Earth pony with a deeper brown mane and tail. It was hardly an obtrusive display, especially as his lack of a horn and wings kept any suspicious guard ponies from glancing too frequently at him. After all, Earth ponies were less capable of causing trouble.
He dared not ask for the location he so desired. Disguised as he was, the soldiers would see him as nothing more than a common pony seeking surety in the highest authority. An authority which was, no doubt, presently dogged with the insanity that was the aftermath of a large battle. Rather, he chose to find Celestia via his own intuition. He snapped his eyes shut and open, the world about him shifting from the material state which the average mortal only ever beheld, to a metaphysical pantheon of infused power. In this alternative vision, which he preferred, all things were defined by the fundamental forces infused within them. The ponies about him were a brilliant collection of hues, those marked by Streak as Ascended pulsing slightly more brightly.The plants and animals about him were glowing with the warm green of Life, while the inanimate objects of the world manifested in varying violet shades of Unity. To him, it was always glorious to behold the world as it truly was, despite the complaints of the others.
With his new eyes, he caught sight of Luna, represented as tight cords of all the other powers surrounded by the dominating deep navy of Reciprocity. But for all his searching, he could only see wave after wave of mortal ponies. The consuming orange light of Epiphany exuded by Celestia’s form was nowhere in his sight. He grunted as he blinked once again to return his vision back to that of the material world.
So, she had anticipated he would come, and was intent upon gauging his conviction over her actions by forcing him to search her out. So be it, Celestia, he thought, not without his fuming anger brimming ever so slightly. You desire to test me, even when you have already broken the laws we laid down together and have come perilously close to a full gathering for the express purpose of your judgement. So be it. His tail swished as he sidled out of the semi-official path of commuting, sitting stiffly on the edge and observing each soldier as he passed by. Being they were soldiers, the only ones about would be those off-duty, those on patrol or in drill formations, and those running detailed errands for their superiors. The former two were of no help to him in locating Celestia, but with the latter he began to see a vague route the more ponies he scrutinized.
When he was confident in general direction they took, he returned to his hooves and trotted in the same path. His hoofsteps led him to a distinctly less active area, and one beset in the very air with fear and depression. The continued appearance of runners assured him he was still on the relatively correct bearing, and was unsurprised when legions of rows of featureless tents began to dominate his vision. In the place of soldiers out for practice, the ponies here were in distinctly smaller groups the mortals ascribed as families. Mothers could be heard within the thin walls of the tents comforting young foals while fathers and older colts and fillies joined in serious, often teary, discussion with their neighbors.
Yes, Celestia would have her personal quarters nearby. Her natural gravitation and empathetic abilities for the mortals was as strong as it had ever been, and with her talent for diffusing the Renegade Powers, there was even less doubt of where she would have stationed herself. He strolled amongst those he had sworn to protect; those who had crafted the instrument of their own destruction and in so doing, had forced him and and his brothers and sisters to give the ultimate sacrifice. And he would continue protecting them until an enemy of superior power and skill slew him. But he would always hate them, every last one of them; hate them beyond forgiveness for what they had allowed themselves to become and create.
Although he had not intended it, the deep scowl ingrained in his features at being so surrounded by the mortals was quite fitting for his arrival at Celestia’s heavily defended tent. It was only slightly larger than those used by the soldiers and refugees to account for her greater stature, and was ringed, roughly three yards out, by the most grizzled of the Royal Guard. At only two feet from the defensive ring, many of the ponies having adopted more barring poses, he let his disguise melt away as he simultaneously formed a shield of watery magic before him. Any guard who looked at it— which accounted for practically all of them— became mentally frozen, unable speak, remember, or even blink. He strode into their midst, pushing down one of the obstructing statue-like ponies as he passed beyond the ring, and with a silent brush of magic, he entered Celestia’s tent.
“Evening, Celestia,” Verdance, Arbiter of Life, said to the Arbiter of Epiphany’s back in his Zebrican accented voice. ______________________________________________________________________________
“And then that anomaly appeared out of nowhere and attacked us,” Rarity huffed, slowing to a trot just slightly before Rainbow herself.
“Yeah, we saw it,” Rainbow replied, motioning to Nemb. “I think the doc just about jumped out of his chitin when it blasted that magic wave. I’ll admit, it felt weird as hay.”
“You girls stay out here,” Twilight asserted to the group, her horn lighting and magic grasping the handle to the doorway. “There might be more of Aurora’s ponies in here and it will be easier for me to sneak through than anypony else.”
“Um... not to be rude Twilight, but, you really aren’t the best sneaker out of all of us,” Fluttershy said.
“She’s got a point, Twi,” Rainbow said, not a little hurt at the way Twilight acknowledged her but refused to look at her directly. She knew she looked vastly different from her old pony self, but she was still the same as she always had been. Perhaps second only to Fluttershy, Twilight ought to have been able to tell that best.
“I assume the objects you are after are the Elements of Harmony?” Nemb spoke up, the first time he had done so in the presence of Rainbow’s friends.
“I don’t think Twilight said anything about the Elements,” Pinkie said, eyeing him curiously. “And I’m even surerer that I didn’t.”
“Rainbow Dash is in my care, and well, don’t you think it would have been odd for our Queen to have not mentioned it to me?” Nemb replied, showing a genuine fanged smile.
“Since when am I in your ‘care’?” Rainbow asked with force, pride not willing to take a blow.
“Since you have yet to master changing, telecommunication, and casting spells,” Nemb answered flatly without ever looking at her. “Now, am I correct or not? I may be able to help if I am.” A pause lingered between Nemb and Twilight, the former patiently waiting for the latter to cease glaring critically at him and actually provide the answer.
“Yes. We are,” Twilight finally decided, and Rainbow released a held breath. “Their magic is different and might be able to harmlessly destroy an anomaly.”
“Then allow me...” Nemb said as green flames erupted about his body only to fall away moments later to the exact image of one of corrupted Guards that had assaulted them. “... to check whether the coast is clear.”
“Can’t wait ‘til I’ll be able to do that,” Rainbow said wistfully. “I’d be able to help you guys out with stuff like this a lot easier.”
“Not to mention making pranking even funnier!” Pinkie snorted with a wink which Rainbow returned, chuckling.
“I’m giving you a single minute before we come in after you,” Twilight replied rather more aggressively than Rainbow thought was necessary.
“There something I’m not gettin’?” she leaned in and whispered to Applejack. “Twilight’s more off, ya know, than the rest of us.” As an afterthought that stung without even saying it, Dash added, “Is it me?”
“I ain’t gonna lie, sugarcube,” Applejack answered as Nemb slid into the slight crack Twilight had opened in the doorway. “She was right furious with Chrysalis when we told ‘er ‘bout what happened to ya. I don’ thank she’ll trust ya or any of the Changelin’s ‘til she’s sure yer still able to use yer Element.”
“Oh, so that’s why you guys were out in this mess in the first place,” Rainbow nodded. “At least she’s not throwing me under the carriage right off the bat like she did Cadance... er, Chrysalis.”
“True, but I thank she’s still gonna give Chrysalis a piece o’ her mind. Might even go outa ‘er way just to give tha Queen an earful,” Applejack said, smiling a bit.
“She might not get the chance,” Rainbow said, mildly distracted by an itch near her wing joint and unsure of whether or not it was safe to scratch chitin with chitin. She resolved to ask Nemb, but settled for a few good flaps of her wings instead. “The old doc and I were sent to try to open diplomatic talks once everything had settled down: or at least once Aurora had been thrown in a cell. Please tell me that witch is in jail.”
“Okay. She’s in jail,” Pinkie piped up. “Happy?”
“Is she really?” Rainbow asked Pinkie with heavily lidded eyes.
“Yeppers!” Pinkie said. “And I think Princess Celestia’s already been down to talk with her. Not sure how that went though.” Rainbow closed her eyes and allowed herself a slow, satisfied nod. It was final; finished. All of the dead, all of the injured, and all of the damage, while not exactly justified, had not been in complete vain. Aurora was to stand trial, though Rainbow was not exactly sure how one could use standard punishments to try an immortal alicorn. She shrugged it off as unimportant. All three princesses would know how to handle it. Semi-permanent imprisonment was the way Dash would do it personally. If Discord could be trapped in stone and his powers rendered all but inert, they would have no trouble doing the same or more to Aurora Streak.
Trusting in Celestia as she always had, and likely always would despite her new allegiances, Rainbow found herself waiting silently when Nemb’s voice called down from within the library, “Everything looks good! No corrupted ponies in here at least!” Twilight had the door open and had burst into the main foyer before Rainbow had even set one hoof forward. The rest of them entered in short order, and Rainbow could not have been more stunned at the pristine interior of the library. Sure, it had still been standing amongst the rubble, but there were other buildings—however scarce—that could boast as much. Not a book had fallen from its place, from a quick glance nothing had been looted, and even the pictures of on the walls were still straight. Rainbow felt a surge of pride in her chest for all of Ponyville. In all of the chaos, fear, and disaster surrounding them, the citizens of her old town had put their best hoof forward, and left what had survived exactly as it was. In a way, Rainbow saw it as a declaration of their defiance of the battle’s ability to truly destroy them; Ponyville would rise from the ashes better than it had been and desecrating that which could be salvaged was no help to that endeavor.
As Rainbow glanced fondly over at the fiction section—to the Daring Do books in particular—Twilight returned from her basement-turned-research-laboratory levitating an intimidating strong box Rainbow knew to house the Elements. There were three locks upon the maroon-red chest, and as far as Rainbow could remember Twilight describing them, the tumblers in each one required a separate spell to move into the open position. “Why didn’t we just whip these babies out when Aurora came stoppin’ into town?” Rainbow asked.
“It’s a good thing we didn’t,” Fluttershy said. “It scares me to think what Aurora would have done if she had known they were actually here.”
“I doubt she really would have cared,” Rarity sniffed. “As Twilight said when we first found them, the spirits of the Elements are in all of us. That’s what she was after.”
“Still, I bet we could have crashed the ship with them,” Rainbow replied.
“Quiet, I’m concentrating,” Twilight snapped at them, her horn glowing and almost touching the first of the locks. All of them stiffened, and Rainbow shared a significant glance with Applejack. Nemb stood opposite Rainbow and the rest, watching Twilight with a note of a physician’s curiosity. He had allowed his disguise to fall, his black coloring standing out sharply against the lighter wood of the foyer. Rainbow felt a slight tingle run down her spine, much like what she had experienced over and over again when she was a filly and always feeling the need to leave her group of athletic friends to spend time with Fluttershy. She had not exactly been able to place the sensation when she had been so young, but older now and with the revelatory knowledge of her place in the world as the Bearer of the Element of Loyalty, Rainbow could confidently say it was her inner devotion to others urging her forward.
And while Nemb was certainly nothing like Fluttershy, he had noling who would stick by him in the world he and Rainbow would be entering. Except, that slight tingling reminded Rainbow of just how wrong such a notion was. Thus, with the eyes of her friends boring into her and feeling far more awkward than had the stares of her half-friends from her fillyhood, Rainbow stood, stretched, and walked over to sit beside Nemb. His expression was perhaps more astonished than that of the group of ponies to whom Rainbow now smiled, but nopony said anything, and Rainbow was more content with that silent acceptance than any forced and fake words.
But two Changelings and five ponies were not the only ones in the room capable of making their thoughts known. “GAH!” Twilight yelped, the magic of her horn dying out as she jumped back away from the chest as if stung. She was not alone. Everypony and everyling else scurried to their hooves, pushing themselves against the wall while the chest began pulsing rapidly with a clearly magical red light. A dull vibration reverberated from the chest, making little noise but moving through the air and shaking all of their bones. The power emanating from the chest gradually began to increase, the locks themselves rattling in protest, until they exploded in a bursting shower of metal. Twilight yelped, but managed to erect a protective barrier in front of everypony and everyling. But the shattered locks were hardly the focus of any of their minds.
With it’s restraints released, the chest flung open, the resonating Elements of Harmony rising in perfect formation from within and Loyalty giving off its power-infused red glow. As if possessed of a will of their own, the Elements rearranged, Loyalty falling into the center and the others beginning to cast their own hues. With all present still staring in awe and bewilderment, the vibration released from the Elements reached its peak, and their raw energies screamed out onto the Element of Loyalty. The artifact seemed to absorb the beams of rainbow colors, but it was impossible to tell, for the spectacular event was over more quickly than it had begun. Stillness fell like a hammerblow onto the library foyer, the hovering Elements landing with clattering and chinking on the wood.
Twilight tentatively lowered each of the protective barriers, and before Rainbow could creep over to inspect what had befallen her Element, shouted, “Nopony move! They’ve never acted without us wearing them. This could be very dangerous.”
“Oh, silly Twilight!” Pinkie exclaimed, happier than she had been since the battle’s end and bounding over to where the Elements had collapsed. “Can’t you see? This is what you wanted to know, and you didn’t even have to ask!”
“Wait, Pinkie, don’t—! What?” Twilight nearly yelled in alarm, only to fall into her usual confusion over Pinkie Pie’s words.
“See, look!” their enthusiastic friend said proudly, bringing up her hoof for all to see what rested there. Lain across it was the bolt shaped ruby of the Element of Loyalty, but the necklace itself had altered drastically. No longer was it an elegant gold clasp, but instead a burnished copper, with Changeling-like notches running across its length. When Pinkie was sure all of them had taken a sure gander at the new Element of Loyalty, she snapped it around Rainbow’s neck where it’s new color and form accented those of Rainbow herself.
“Well, your Element has taken to your new, ah, self... rather well I would say,” Rarity said as Rainbow fidgeted with the jewel. She had not given much thought to the Element of Loyalty since her transformation, at least not outside of how she represented it. She had always thought that to be the point anyway: that she herself always be a proper example of loyalty and that the rest would follow. Discord had certainly manipulated that part of her and it had proven quite effective. But now, after such a clear display of innate magic, she was forced to acknowledge that though she was Bearer of Loyalty and the only one in Equestria capable of using it in tandem with the other Elements, that the artifact also held significance of its own. She owed it acknowledgement—as odd as it seemed to do so for an inanimate object—at any rate. Without question, her Element had confirmed before all her friends that despite having become a Changeling, she was still Rainbow Dash at her core.
“Are you okay, Rainbow?” Fluttershy asked, when she did not immediately respond to Rarity.
“I think I’m gonna be more than okay,” she replied, looking up and smiling with what she knew to be a fanged grin. That thought only made her smile wider.
“Whoo hoo!” Pinkie hollered. “Come on, Twilight! Give Dashie a hug! You know you want to!” Rainbow turned to Twilight’s direction, expecting to see her scowling at Pinkie, but was blinded by a mass of lavender fur as Twilight embraced her with a small sniffle.
A little caught off guard, Rainbow gingerly patted her on the back just as Twilight said, “I’m so sorry I doubted you. I should have been able to tell you were still you.”
“Hey, if it’s any consolation, I would have doubted me too,” Rainbow chuckled. “So it’s no hard feelings or anything. I guess me still havin’ the Element is pretty good evidence for you right?”
“It’s what I wanted to use in the first place,” Twilight said, disengaging from the hug. “But I never expected a response like that. So, um... how do you feel?”
“We can talk later,” Rainbow said, now with their reconciliation complete, the danger to the camp occupying a good portion of her focus. “You wanna grab the other Elements so we can get a move on.”
“Oh! Right,” Twilight seemed to jolt her own memory. “We go in formation all the way back,” she said, that steely confidence that always entered her tone in a crisis coming to the fore. “There’s no telling where the anomaly might be, and we need to be ready if it suddenly pops up.”
“Agreed,” Applejack said as Twilight flung the Elements onto their respective Bearers. “An’ Changelin’ doctor, ya migh’ wanna stay outa tha way. This could get ugly.”
“Duly noted,” Nemb said. “But if something does go wrong, since it is an anomaly, I think having a doctor nearby would be a pretty good idea.”
“Okay, let’s go,” Twilight affirmed, as her Element settled onto her mane. ______________________________________________________________________________
Evening was settling on the encampment of the Armies of the Sun and Moon as their respective commanders lowered the glowing orange orb and raised the pearlescent night watcher. Dinner cookfires had gone up anywhere there was not a tent or a major pathway, and the soldiers did their best to cook food more acceptable for the displaced citizens of Ponyville than a marching army. In an amusing turn of events, the Ponyvillians usually ended up taking over the cookfires anyway and giving the soldiers better fare from their meager supplies than any had ever thought possible. Loud shouts of pride for whatever Ponyville family had joined a particular fire flew across the darkening camp: the soldiers engaging in that age-old pastime of compare-and-conquer.
A few ponies, both civilian and soldier alike, stayed away from the general ruckus. They built smaller fires, prepared their meal, ate, and promptly departed to more private places. They and their more boisterous companions were a unique study in the nature of the pony psyche. If one was keen enough, one could see the grief from the the battle in the eyes of both types: and from the said differential in coping mechanism came the interest.
These were the passing thoughts of a singular pony as he moved from shadow to shadow, doing his level best to avoid being seen and stopped. Not that if he was he would be suspected of anything sinister: quite the contrary. Only, he knew that the longer the night wore on, and indeed, the more such nights passed, the more difficult would be his intention to execute. Should a friend see him, they would no doubt seek his company, and as it stood, that was not something he could presently afford.
And I really don’t want anypony I know mixed up in this if things go south, he added to himself. I can’t really blame them for not having seen what I did. Kinda funny when I think about it though. I didn’t even think to talk to any of my old friends. He was pulling away from most of the cookfires now, entering into areas lit more evenly by actual torches and guarded more heavily by stationed guards. Now without the boasting noise from the off-duty soldiers to offer a sufficient distraction, he was glad for his dark coat. Where a pony like Rainbow Dash would have had to dart from hiding place to hiding place to avoid being seen, he merely had to give extra caution to the noise of his hoofsteps on the churned dirt. This became not too terribly difficult the longer he did it, but his saddlebags did occasionally shift, nearly throwing dangerously off balance. Luckily, a lifetime of passing between homes in the clouds and on the ground gave him the necessary skill to right himself with minimal crunching of gravel underhoof.
The guards themselves offered little challenge in sneaking past them. He suspected they were both tired and hungry, and of the mind that nopony would come anywhere near the area. Well, at least not any sane ponies, but even so, the ponies taken by Aurora Streak’s magic during the battle were still milling about the town, and since the return of Princess Luna and her general, their capture had been increasing in pace.
Thus, when he finally came to the place of his objective, the sight of well over two-dozen battle mages and at least as many pegasi war fliers only concerned him due to sheer number. For a time, he studied them from the safety of the darkness, trying to pick out the captains, the less than attentive ones, and the stoic, alert seasoned veterans. Most fit into the latter category, much to his displeasure. They would make things far more difficult for honor’s sake, and being that there were so many of them, it would be a task fit for Discord himself to break them all.
Well, there was little more he could do from the observer’s position, and the bits in his saddle bags were not going to come out by themselves. Backing up a few paces first, he strode out of the shadows cast by the number of torches, working his face into a heavy, anger ridden scowl. “Evening brother. Are you lost?” one of the war fliers asked, sympathetically taking him for a bemused drunk.
“I’m not lost sir,” he growled, going just as far as he thought was safe with the disrespect he put into ‘sir’.
“Then you should be headin’ back kid,” one of the older mages said. “Maybe you haven’t heard, and I wouldn’t be surprised with all the crap the runners are havin’ to deal with, but the prison’s off limits to anypony not cleared specifically by their Highnesses Luna and Celestia.”
“No, I heard that too,” he replied, bringing his tone onto more level ground. “I’ve got a favor to ask you colts.”
“Not sure any of us are in a position to be hoofing out favors,” another of the unicorns said, striding away from the sizeable group. He assumed him to be the captain of the present host. “But let’s hear it out.”
“Her...” he glowered. “I wanna look at her. I wanna see the face that killed my family.” Internally, he winced slightly at the lie. It seemed rather poor taste to manipulate a scenario that was all too likely for far too many ponies. But he had to see her, and if it went well, possibly more than that.
“I’m sorry. I truly am,” the captain said to him, and from the bowed head softer tone, he genuinely meant it. “But even fewer ponies are allowed in there with her than are even allowed to be around here to begin with.”
“I have bits... enough for all of you....” he said, inserting a subtle note of pleading into his voice and unclipping his bags with his wings. In the dancing light of the torches, the gold sparkled with quite the appeal.
“We won’t be bribed. I am sorry,” the captain reiterated, his eyes not even lingering or distracted by the money.
“Captain, permission to speak freely, sir!” one of the pegasi declared, saluting upon landing.
“Spit it out,” the captain answered.
“Just let ‘im in, sir,” the war flier said. “I’m not sayin’ to take ‘is money or nothin’, but lookin’ at it, that’s gotta be all ‘e’s got. He was willin’ to give it up, Cap.” The commanding officer swiveled his head back and forth, looking first at him then to the soldier and back again. As the captain was considering allowing him inside, he made sure to keep his face as flat as possible. Any indication he was expecting one decision or another would likely end in being denied entrance. It was not a chance he could take being so close to his goal.
“We’re all goin’ to Tartarus if anypony finds out,” the captain muttered. “But I know I’d want to see the face of my family’s murderer. You’ve got ten minutes, but if she kills you, nopony will know. You willing to take that risk?”
“She has already killed me three times,” he answered, forcing a certain hollowness to enter his words.
“Thought as much,” the captain said, motioning for him to follow. The host of guards parted ways for their commanding officer, some even nodding their heads in approval. He only glanced at them out of the corner of his eyes, but it was enough to know that a good number of the soldiers agreed with their captain if only because they needed somepony to do what they could not trust themselves to do.
The captain lowered his horn, the glow phasing in and out several times as the various spells on the bars were retracted, and once sure that task was finished, he levitated three keys from a small pack to unlock the physical bolts. Each click of a tumblr falling in place set his heart racing faster than it had upon first taking that leap of faith to trust his wings over clouds. “Ten minutes,” the captain reiterated, and the bars were pulled aside.
Unlike the outside, not a single light source fought against the darkness inside. He stepped cautiously within, jumping a little when the guards so quickly closed it back and reactivated the magical barriers. He took a full four steps into the encompassing darkness before a voice distinctly hers flew from his left. “It seems you have endangered your life and risked arrest for nought,” Aurora Streak’s voice said. “You will see nothing in this blackness, which is as it should be, bearing in thought that you have narrowed your mind so straightly that all you are able to see is the blackness of death and not the white light of truth that sits atop it.”
He stopped his forward motion, gently removed his saddle bags, and took to sitting rather than standing. His ten minutes were precious, and he would waste time incurring her verbal wrath in a vain attempt to locate her. They could hear one another, and that was enough. He did not speak immediately. If he were to convince her of his sincerity, every response of his would need to be carefully thought out and not without a fair share of wit. It was not necessarily his strong suit, but... He had no other choice. “You talk... You speak of the white light of truth. What if I said I had for my entire life seen it as a rainbow of hues until just yesterday.”
There was a distinct pause heavy with curiosity and deep thought, and when Aurora next spoke, it was in a markedly richer tone, “You are attempting to imitate me under the assumption that I represent all that encompasses a higher form of existence. In this endeavor, my ways can educate, but not dictate. I am curious now, however. What did you see that coalesced the many colors into one?”
“I—” he stopped himself before he had begun. She wanted to hear him with more natural words. That at least was a relief for him. “The name’s Thunderlane. I think you might know me a little more than the others.”
“You do know, I had hoped that should I be imprisoned under Celestia’s watchful stare, Twilight Sparkle would take up my mantle as the truth became more inexplicable, but you... while the blow to Celestia’s half-truths will not be so great, I find myself more believing of your desire to seek what I offered,” Streak said. “For one such as yourself to see past what I allowed to happen, something tremendous must have occurred before your eyes.”
“I saw my princess start a war,” Thunderland said plainly. “And I cannot reconcile myself to support her after her actions caused the deaths of so many.”
“Celestia has ever been at war with forces that defy her created truth,” Aurora replied. “But I must ask of you: was it the death of hundreds in and of itself that prevents you from reconciliation?”
“I’m not sure what you mean,” Thunderlane said, confused. “The deaths and her initial attack go hoof in hoof.”
“No, they do not,” Aurora bit back, not particularly sharp, but certainly pointed. “There are many in Ponyville alone that, now seeing how they reject the truth and the paths to it offered them, I would kill without a moment’s hesitation. They are burdens upon others seeking something higher. Does that disturb you?”
Thunderlane was glad the darkness of the prison, for it meant Aurora could not see his mouth moving up and down seemingly of its own accord. Although he was pretty sure Celestia had not intended for the battle to bathe the town in blood, that did not excuse the act in his mind. Yet here was Aurora, whom he had thought had been against the shedding of blood in the first place, speaking about slaughter as though it were merely another daily activity. “Yes!” he could not hold in his disgust. It came out louder than he had intended and he glanced behind him to be sure the guards had not heard. They did not appear to have reacted, but he watched them for a few long seconds before he allowed himself to be sure.
“You do not then see them as ignorant simpletons who would rather rot their few years away in so called ‘happiness’ than seek something beyond what they can find from merely existing in this world?” Aurora replied, a small growl tainting the end of her words.
“Well... I,” Thunderlane stuttered. He would not use such a harsh description, but he certainly no longer saw anypony who still sided with Princess Celestia as worth his attention. “It doesn’t mean they have to be killed,” he settled for saying.
“If you truly wish to pursue the path to a higher truth, you will need to be more honest with yourself. You still see them all as your fellow ponies, no matter your opinions of them. Truth holds no regard for opinion,” Aurora stated. “And therefore, anything that appears to begin one on the path to greater truth but is only seated in opinion, cannot truly allow one to ascertain that greater existence.”
She paused, and Thunderlane allowed his mind to reel for a moment. Everything she said was true, but in a contorted kind of way. It was like she was straightening his views by twisting them. “You still see them as your equals because you live amongst them and know nothing else. Yours is one of many cases throughout the world that has been suffocated by the ignorant. It is for this reason they are to be slain. They stifle those journeying onward.”
“And that’s why you were able go so far?” Thunderlane ventured. “You were in exile.”
If he could have seen her, Thunderlane was sure a smile cracked onto Aurora’s lips as she said, “Ideally, the seekers of truth are best when amongst their own kind, but yes, without the taint of those who would cloud my mind with opinion and false impressions of equality, I moved along. Are you repulsed now?”
“There are plenty of places where nopony lives,” he replied, trying to hold onto that thing that had once been revulsion but was transforming into something else as yet unidentifiable. “Why couldn’t all of us go there.”
"And when one is born amongst them who refuses truth?” Aurora asked, almost gleefully. Thunderlane swore. Why did she have to make so much sense? Why was she his only option? He could no longer trust Celestia, but surely there was somepony else less...
Aurora Streak was brutal, he could not deny. But, was not there a common Earth pony saying, “The truth is supposed to hurt?” She was most certainly farther along the path to this greater existence than anypony else, so there was no reason to suspect her pain would be any less than her truth. “You make me afraid of myself,” Thunderlane murmured, not intending for Aurora to hear.
Nevertheless, Streak answered, “Often times, truth uses fear to frighten us into pursuit of itself.”
“Then are you not afraid to try to escape?” Thunderlane asked, concerned for his ten minutes and beset by an urgency to relate this intention to the pony somewhere before him.
“Your enthusiasm is admirable but misplaced,” Aurora sighed. “While I might still enjoy the path to higher existence, I am no longer its face. That task will pass to somepony else. Even if you could break past the defenses Celestia has put into place, it is my revelations, not physical self that is to lead those like yourself.”
“But you never were able to explain everything you had found,” Thunderland pressed. “Celestia prevented that. We need guidance or we’ll only end up bumbling around with what little we have. I’ve been talking around and there are about—!”
“Two minutes!” the captain outside bellowed. Thunderlane thought his stomach was in his throat from shock, but he managed to avoid vomiting despite choking and coughing like an old colt who had smoked one too many pipes.
“Go on...” Aurora said after his minor fit had subsided.
“There are roughly twenty other ponies that saw what I did and are with me on lacking any confidence in Celestia anymore,” Thunderlane continued. “The prison isn’t the problem. It’s our escape plan. Is your ship still flyable?”
“Before I answer, I require an assurance from you for yourself and on behalf of these others,” Aurora said, steady. “You seek my guidance to advance onto your quest for higher existence, but I wonder if you will be able to follow all of my creed. The science I employ aids in both the physical and metaphysical path, but it is painless to accept. Can you assure me that all of you would not hesitate if I said a foal was to be executed?”
“I... a foal... dang...” Thunderlane growled to himself. “I can only be accountable for myself, but provided you showed me evidence of their refusal of the truth, I would do it.”
“And if one of these fellows of yours I judge to be only following the path for the temporary excitement?” Aurora asked.
“I could do it,” Thunderlane repeated, the pangs of guilt slowly becoming less and less poignant.
“That will surely happen, make no mistake,” Aurora chastised. “I know Inky Jay would have killed one of them at a whisper, but perhaps you will be able to live up to his legacy. Yes, the House of a Thousand Fangs can be restored. She was not ruined, only rendered inoperable mechanically. Reattaching the Devices for the thrust will ignite both the flame geysers and the flight pathways on the underside. Twenty ponies should be able to complete such a task easily.”
“Okay then,” Thunderlane said. “When you hear talk of a march from the guards, prepare for that day.”
“A clever use of Equestrian custom,” Aurora’s voice replied. “I will be ready. I insist that you be as well.”
“I assure it,” Thunderlane said as he backed toward the gate, picking up his bags along the way. He found himself ignoring the guards as they let him out, but they seemed only sympathetic as far as his unfocused senses could tell. Not that they mattered anymore. They were beneath him now. They would follow Harmony until the day they died, but for Thunderlane, Harmony had failed far too spectacularly. Truth was what he would live by. It was far more final anyway. ______________________________________________________________________________
Galloping as madly as she was for fear of the anomaly’s capabilities, Twilight had never envisioned anypony holding her back at the entrance to the camp. There was an anomaly there after all. Any and all ponies would have been called in a desperate attempt to overpower it or lead it away.
Yet as she tore across the ruined path leading out of the leveled Ponyville, two thestral guards stood at attention on either side of the entrance to the temporary base of operations. They appeared almost bored, if Twilight had to choose a single word. Combined with the lack of frantic screaming, shouting, and flaring magic; Twilight dug her hooves into the ashen gravel, skidding to a halt and nearly tripping herself. Her friends and the Changeling doctor who had accompanied Rainbow were more graceful in their stop, but far more perplexed. “Are... are you sure it was an anomaly dear?” Rarity asked.
“There should be more, well... commotion,” Nemb agreed. “This isn’t good for Rainbow or myself either. Long questions and all that nonsense.”
“Maybe they already destroyed it...” Twilight ventured to herself. “I mean, both Princess Luna and Celestia are here along with more trained unicorns than what are in a city. It’s... but there should still be a little bit of chaos, right?”
“I can’t be sure Twilight,” Rarity replied. “Anomalies are thankfully so rare that no pony really knows what happens after they go out.”
“Irregardless, we can’be standin’ ‘round here lookin’ like fools,” Applejack said, striding to the front of the group and continuing up the path to the camp entrance. “We ain’t figgerin’ out what happened to it from out here anywho.”
“Oh joy, this is going to be fun,” Rainbow said dryly with a nudge on Twilight’s shoulder.
“I can always do an illusion spell for you Rainbow until we meet with the princesses,” Twilight offered, turning her head back to see her friend. She did her best not to flinch, but her eye twitched involuntarily when she saw Rainbow’s glossy black hide.
“No can do, Twi, right doc?” Rainbow replied with a shrug.
“Her Highness requested we be as forward as possible to prevent feelings of deception on the part of your princesses,” Nemb said. “It may make things more complicated in a moment, but I think honesty from Changelings will speak volumes.”
“That’s if you aren’t burned to little bitty cinders if Princess Celestia goes ‘WAHHH!’,” Pinkie said in her usual manner. “I wouldn’t, but I don’t even have a horn.”
“Thanks Pinkie Pie, you’re very encouraging,” Rainbow answered, the sarcasm in her voice more weary than anything else.
Anything else the group would have said to one another was halted by the cold stares of the guards on Applejack. Twilight breathed a sigh of relief that neither of them had noticed the two Changelings as of yet, but knew it would not last. “Yall know who I am,” Applejack was saying not a bit harshly to them. “So let us in. Hay, if ya don’ know me, I know surer than apples ya know her,” she continued, waving a hoof at Twilight.
“Woah, hang on AJ!” Rainbow burst out. “Flutters doesn’t think they’re breathing!”
“What!?” Twilight whirled first to Rainbow and Fluttershy then back to more closely scrutinize the guards. She edged around them, but their eyes never moved from staring straight ahead, and beyond that, they had yet to blink.
“No, they’re breathin’, sugarcube,” Applejack reassured Fluttershy, bringing an ear to almost touch one of the guards’ snouts. “But only just. Twi, I ain’t an expert, but this is lookin’ like pretty sophisticated magic to me.”
“You are quite right, Miss...?” Nemb approached the frozen guards with a note of intrigue.
“Applejack,” she said for him.
“Yes, Miss Applejack,” Nemb continued, “it’s very similar to a particular medical spell if I’m seeing the symptoms correctly.”
“But those are too complex for an anomaly,” Twilight insisted. “And I can’t think of anything else that moves like what we saw.”
“They’re so creepy,” Pinkie whispered. “Nopony can stand still like that.”
“Faust on High!” Nemb exclaimed, jerking everypony’s head in his direction. His horn was aglow with Changeling magic and it was gently resting on the temple of one of the guards.
“What did you find?” Twilight shot out, racing to his side. Nemb lifted his horn away and let the magic fade, before answering with a deep intake of breath.
“I just did a minor diagnosis of the spell affecting them, and I hardly believe it,” he said. “I even checked twice to be sure I wasn’t fooling myself. Let me see if I can name it properly... Yes, these guards were attacked with a quintuple base layer triple modification reflection ring psychic inhibition spell.” The longer he spoke the wider Twilight’s eyes became. Modification was one thing, but to cast a spell with base power and what added into fifteen simultaneous alterations in a reflection form... it was a feat so far fetched nopony would believe any mage who claimed to have done it. Twilight herself knew that were she to even attempt something so complex, she would prepare herself for a full week and expect to be unable to work with even simple spells for a second week afterward. Power of that scale was unheard of, and yet it had been used almost casually against two lone guards.
“What does that mean Twilight?” Fluttershy asked. “Is there still an anomaly?”
“No... I don’t... we just need to find one of the princesses and warn them,” Twilight stumbled at first from pure disbelief, but found her resolve with the same determination that had driven her on when she had believed this threat was a mere anomaly. “The Elements can still stop whatever this thing is, but we are going to have to be more discreet. It wants to stay somewhat hidden, otherwise the camp would already be a disaster, but if we aren’t prepared, we could end up just like these guards.”
“Onward to battle!” Pinkie cried out before bouncing into the camp, her discreet manifesting as rather obtrusive but accomplishing the desired result all the same. Twilight only hoped the rest of them could make it to either of the princesses with as much genuine behavior. At least night was settling in, the darkness helping to conceal Rainbow and Nemb even in the light of a growing number of torches. ______________________________________________________________________________
If Verdance were to be honest with himself, he had fully expected Celestia to jump up in shock and surprise with her strongest spell flying from her horn. That in mind, he had prepared a shield spell well before even entering the Equestrian border. Thus, when, at the sound of his voice, Celestia showed not even a sign of acknowledgement, he stood rather perplexed for a moment. That was, until he mentally checked the approaching hour. “Preparing to reinforce your barriers on the Palace are you?” he asked, his only answer being Celestia’s gentle golden magic waving over her horn. “Yes, it seems you are,” he said, taking a seat just off to the corner of the tent’s entry flap as the darkness of what the mortals called night descended over the world. “I do take it you were expecting me however.”
“I was,” Celestia answered, her voice as collected and hard-edged as it ever was.
“It amazes me still that you are able to change your tone so easily for the mortals,” Verdance added. “But, your curiosities aside, I also assume you know why you were expecting me?”
“That is a round-about way of asking me what happened today,” Celestia replied. “You would have seen the town. You know what happened.”
“You engaged in a civil battle, that is all I can garner from what lies outside this encampment,” Verdance said. “Ius was the one who told me it was Streak. I intended to warn you to avoid this damned catastrophe, but impressively enough, her ship can outstrip The Origin. I am trying to remain calm, Celestia, but let me go over in brief what you have done: you engaged in a battle that has destroyed an entire town at a speed I have not seen since the War, this battle you fought was against one of our OWN, AND YOU CHOSE TO DO THIS AT THE CUSP OF OUR RANKS BEING FULL ONCE AGAIN!” Verdance had lapsed into shouting, but Celestia’s calm demeanor did not seem to be understanding the severity of the situation and yelling at her had served him well in the past.
“I already know all of that,” Celestia all but whispered. “It was Luna. I thought Luna was in danger, and I was not going to lose her again. Not again. I... I couldn’t go through that again.”
“Do you think it was harder for you than the rest of us when the Pravum Queen finally took her?!” Verdance hissed, his accent becoming thicker with his earnestness. “She is as much a sister to you as to all of us: no more, no less.”
“That is where you are wrong Verdance,” Celestia replied. “We are closer than any of the rest of us. And after Streak allowed that monster to take her, I was not going to stand by and watch while she might do something even worse.”
“Don’t fool yourself Celestia,” Verdance said. “The Nightmare was already inside her and eating away at her defenses. Streak may have inadvertently accelerated that process, but Luna’s fall was inevitable. Now... I am, against my better judgement, giving you a second chance to justify your actions.”
“Or what Verdance?” Celestia cut across, turning to face him finally. Tears were streaming down her face. “What will you do to me? What can you or any of the others do to me? I am not a foal to be slapped on the hoof.”
“Perhaps we cannot do anything to you physically,” Verdance answered, a wry smile crossing his lips. “But it will not take much for me to convince the others to let me take your student to The Cascade... Without you.”
That did not have the effect Verdance so desired. The tears creasing Celestia’s regal face dried away, her eyes became violet slits of pure fury. “If you so much as touch her, I will rip your powers, your immortality, all of your gifts straight from your inner soul until it is nothing but a crumbling mess and you a wretched thing deserving to be crushed underhoof!” Celestia snarled, the air before her beginning to ripple with the heat of epiphany.
“Then explain yourself satisfactorily!” Verdance demanded, though he backed away from Celestia. “We are on the cusp the Arbiters being in full power once again, and you would risk all of that for what!? A grudge against a pony whose views are not yours? We knew Streak was unorthodox when we chose her to succeed Aria!”
“She told me straightly she would have the majority of the world’s population slaughtered for refusing to Ascend and attaining a ‘higher truth’,” Celestia explained, her anger yet to die from her form. “She is a cold-hearted, ruthless murderer who cares nothing for what we protect save what will seek complexity in life. She is a mistake on our part. She will not honor the oath we all took.”
“I would have them all killed if not for the oath,” Verdance said flatly. “They do not deserve all that they have, especially after their hate created Antithesis and forced our hooves. Streak is more reasonable than myself in that regard. I would not give any of them even a chance. And bear in mind, Celestia, she seeks something that she will never find without our aid. Is it any wonder she has crafted her own truth in lieu of what we have yet to tell her?”
“She would only view it as validation at this point Verdance!” Celestia was yelling now, uncharacteristic for her. “And the difference between you and her is not reason! She would actually go through with it!”
“So is she more dangerous with or without validation?!” Verdance raised his own voice. “You have made your argument about the danger she represents, but I am of the mind to give her her history to avoid further incidents; and yet here you sit debating that with me as well!”
“Of course I will debate it with you. If you tell her what she is, you will have to... Wait, I... you understand why I acted as I did?”
“Unfortunately,” Verdance growled. “While it wasn’t on the forefront of your mind as it should have been, she was an opponent of the oath we all took, if she was as determined as you say. That cannot be allowed to happen again, least of all by one of our own. You want to fight me on this now?”
“Do we have any other options?” Celestia asked, her emotions becoming more stable and the pulsing heat fading out.
“I do, you don’t,” Verdance said. “You can keep her here under your authority if you wish to push me over the edge, but that will only result in me taking your student—”
“No,” was Celestia’s resolute response, a brief wave of hot air accompanying it, “but I do want to know your intentions with Streak.”
“You will need to release her to me first,” Verdance elaborated. “I don’t particularly care how, but she is to leave your care and meet The Origin in the Everfree. From there I will tell her everything, and she will swear the oath; thus no longer existing as a threat.”
“And if she refuses the oath? I don’t think I need to tell you that she might do that,” Celestia pushed.
“If she is as much a seeker of truth as you claim she believes herself to be, she will accept the oath as a part she merely had not yet found,” Verdance said confidently. “Don’t worry, she’s not so far gone as to be irredeemable. Besides, if she does completely refuse the oath, your actions were even more justified and I will finish what you started.”
“I had no intention to kill her,” Celestia replied, her eyes narrowing distastefully. “Not the way you would, and certainly not by my own hoof.”
“You’ve grown a tad soft, Celestia,” Verdance sighed. “I won’t fault you in that regard since it makes you a better ruler for the mortals, but it is something you should be wary of.”
“Releasing Streak is going to be difficult no matter how I go about it,” Celestia abruptly shifted the topic. “An Equestrian tradition dictates a march in honor of the dead after a large battle like this. I estimate a full day before then, but if I give you the keys, both mundane and arcane, to Streak’s cell; can you take her yourself?”
“That is not impossible, but I will need to move The Origin closer to your encampment,” Verdance said, nodding his head.
“Then do so tomorrow night,” Celestia very nearly commanded. That alone was enough of a signal for Verdance. Their meeting had come to a close. He had not been welcome in the first place; but now that he had settled his and other Arbiters’ concerns, Celestia clearly wished him to be gone as soon as possible. He stood and allowed his cloak of a mortal to fall over him, brushing aside the tent flap to the sight of the still frozen guards and the flickering light of many leaping flames. “And Verdance,” Celestia added, more ice in her voice than Verdance had heard since their coup had ended, “if you ever threaten me with Twilight Sparkle ever again, you will wish you were standing against the Face of Epiphany for all I will do to you.”
He allowed himself a small grin at hearing the old Celestia resurface, and said as he left, “I’ll give you your guards back. Life knows you need them.” With that, he walked a few steady paces away from the ring of mortals, cast a simple spell to release all those he had immobilized, and before any of them could wake, drifted down into the streams of Life that ran throughout all the world. ______________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow Dash could see the growing panic in Twilight’s face. Not only could they all be stopped at any moment because a guard gave their galloping company too close a look, but not a single pony seemed remotely alarmed that there was a lethally powerful user of magic in their midst. Rainbow knew she handled this sort of stress better than the rest of her friends—well, perhaps Applejack could at least equal her—but even then, the prospect of a second terror so shortly after Aurora’s savagery shook her soul. She ran until her muscles were burning, and then kept running. Deep inside, she knew none of them were ready for something else of Aurora’s magnitude descending upon them. Hay, Equestria itself would probably crack under the strain even if it did not collapse entirely.
Thus, when Princess Luna’s clear and sharp voice broke through the air behind them, a wave of relief washed over Rainbow not because her nerves abated, but from the knowledge that they were now in the presence of calm and capable hooves. Not to mention that Princess Luna would have quite a bit less of a reaction than Princess Celestia about Rainbow’s... change. She had not really given much thought to how she would approach the Princess as her appearance took that out of her hooves entirely, but she knew there would a fair bit of resentment and was glad she now had Princess Luna and her friends to intercede for her.
“TWILIGHT SPARKLE!” Luna called out, and Twilight predictably pulled around as hard and fast as was possible for a pony of less than athletic skill. The rest all followed suit, and came into sight of Luna leading a veritable squadron of her thestral Guards. “We heard from our watchponies that thou wast galloping through camp with thy friends as if in great distress and... Rainbow Dash,” Luna began with the tone of a ready-defender until she caught sight of Rainbow. She said Dash’s name in an oddly emotionless voice, one that ringed with finality. “Doth our eyes deceive us or art thou truly...” Luna asked, again with that same flatness.
“It’s not all that bad,” Rainbow replied with an uneasy chuckle. “I’m not braindead or anything, ya know.”
“Princess!” Twilight broke Luna’s intense stare at Dash, “it’s a shock, I know, but I have it on pretty good authority she’s still the same pony. We’ve got bigger problems though.”
“Explain,” Luna commanded, her voice returning to a note of normality and her eyes thankfully shifting off of Rainbow.
“Something powerful enough to cast a base five triple modification spell disguised itself as an anomaly and is probably wandering in the camp right now!” Twilight shot off. “We have the Elements, but there’s no way—”
“Guards, leave us,” Luna interrupted, eyes shut in a unfitting serenity. “A few of the thestrals oggled at Twilight like she was a crazy-mare and Dash like she was the plague, but with a few stiff kicks from their fellows, the Night Guards filed away until the only sound around them were the distant drunken shouts of revelling soldiers and the crackling whip of torchfire. “All of thee, follow us. We must have words with our sister as must thee.”
“But Princess, what about the creature in camp? I’m certain it’s here now!” Twilight exclaimed.
“Thou needest not worry over that Twilight Sparkle,” Luna managed a smile even as her face shifted back into that stony serenity. “We already know what, or rather who, hath graced our borders. Know this: everypony is safe, perhaps even more than before. We promise a full explanation in time, but as you hath said, there art more pertinent matters we must discuss and they canst not wait until morning, as my sister hath originally planned. Come.”
Luna took to leading them through the camp, her steps much surer than Twilight’s had been. Despite that though, Dash felt her anxiety flying faster than earlier. Luna was mysterious just from having been in exile for over one thousand years, but in their time together, Dash had thought she had gotten to know Luna at least a little. Now, she was thrown into doubt again. Why did Luna not want to tell them what that manic energy was? Perhaps she was hoofing the responsibility over to Princess Celestia, but from the way she had said it, Dash was more of the mind, they would never be told unless it was absolutely necessary.
Instead, with Luna so simply passing off the threat of the psuedo-anomaly-thingamajig, her attention had focused on Dash. Or more appropriately, the fact that Dash was now a Changeling. As they entered into the hastily organized but still well managed refugee village of tents, Rainbow’s thoughts drifted into how she ought to explain the whole story to Celestia. Where to begin, where to offer in a good word for Chrysalis and the others, and most importantly, where to conveniently forget certain parts. Dash wracked her brain. Quite a lot of what she considered to be inconsequential usually ended up mattering a great deal more to other ponies, but she had never examined a story for those things before. She was on the verge of whispering to Twilight for help, as she knew Princess Celestia better than the rest of them, but Luna spoke before Rainbow had even leaned forward.
“Rainbow Dash, we trust Twilight Sparkle as our sister doth,” she said, these words coming out as though the princess had imagined them before actually opening her mouth, “but for the sake of how we might help assure our sister in this instance, we must know why thou elected to this transformation.”
“If I might, Your Highness,” Nemb bowed before Princess Luna.
“Thou art Chrysalis’ choice of accompaniment for Rainbow Dash?” Luna asked, ceasing to walk and turning to face them.
“My Queen instructed me to aid Miss Dash acclimate to her new life both physically and mentally. I am her physician in a way,” Nemb replied, his service to Chrysalis inviting a perfectly formed tone of respectful submission.
“Speak then,” Luna instructed.
“Miss Dash did not volunteer for this,” Nemb said, still bowing. “She was bitten while we were still under Aurora Streak’s control.”
“It really was my fault for not paying attention to everything around me,” Rainbow spoke up, not able to let Nemb try to protect Changeling dignity alone any longer. “And it isn’t all bad anyway. My Element even thinks so, see?” She ripped her necklace away, stretching it out for Luna to better see it’s new form.
“Calm thyself, Rainbow Dash,” Luna said, giving her a quaint, reassuring smile. “It is only because we saw thy new Element of Loyalty that we did not lose our temper and charge horn ablaze after Chrysalis.” Pinkie and Rarity snickered, prompting a curious raise of an eyebrow from Luna.
“I... I may have had a similar reaction,” Twilight explained, sheepishly trying to play down any impressions Luna may perceive.
“It is understandable Twilight Sparkle,” Luna replied, then to Dash she said, “But thou hast answered our question as we had hoped thou would. Celestia may take some convincing and long-winded explanation, but so long as it was no act of revenge on Chrysalis’ part, we art sure she wilt understand.”
“Then why ya look like a an apple without its skin?” Applejack asked.
“It merely means a great deal of tension in my sister’s and our foreseeable future,” Luna said. “Diplomacy between formerly mutual enemies doth not usually take place during the trying of a war criminal and Rainbow Dash’s citizenship may complicate matters further.”
“And you can add in whoever this mystery guest ghosty pony is,” Pinkie added.
“Thou art not likely to forget that soon, art thou?” Luna grimaced.
“Nope!” Pinkie replied brightly.
“Well, we ought not to keep our sister waiting any longer,” Luna said, taking up her pace again and maneuvering around several tents until they all came within sight of Princess Celestia’s present abode. There were Royal Guards present, but they were the most disoriented Guards Rainbow had ever seen. Nearly all of them were groaning and banging their hooves on their helmets as if just having overcome a serious migraine, and one was even stumbling to his hooves from lying in the dirt. Even without Twilight’s significant glance and Nemb’s pointed nudge, Rainbow began to scan the surroundings for any signs of the creature. Luna might have claimed she knew it and that it was harmless, but Dash was still leery of anything that had power comparable to Discord’s.
“At... At attention colts!” the captain of the squadron struggled to shout out, but his voice catching in his throat. All of the stallions present (Rainbow could not tell whether there were any mares in the formation) brought themselves into a staunch salute, impressive judging by the wincing on their faces.
“Thou art granted ease,” Luna said, “and we wish to assure all of thee that the pain thou experience is but a symptom of prolonged proximity to a battlefield saturated with magic.”
“Permission to change shift for security purposes and put those captured Changelings in the prison,” the captain asked, his stiff demeanor returning with time.
“Thou and thy company have our permission to change shifts with one of the Night Guard,” Luna stated. “But Commander, these Changelings art not our enemies. In fact, one of their kingdoms may soon be our allies. I expect this information to be kept solely amongst thy Guards.”
“You have our confidence, Your Highness,” the commander replied, and turning his head to his soldiers, barked out, “Not a word you hear! Now go get some rest! That’s an order!” A second salute passed through the assembled Guards before they trotted around past Rainbow and her friends, friendly conversation already breaking out between them.
So occupied was Rainbow on the state of the Guards that she almost jumped at the voice of Princess Celestia saying, “Luna, is that you? You have... Oh, you brought Twilight and her friends? Is there something that cannot wait until morning?” Rainbow had only been in Princess Celestia’s presence a few times, and even then it had been with Twilight usually at the start of a possible catastrophe; but in those few times, Rainbow had noticed one constant in the Princess. She was always, if nothing else, calm. It was not a forced calm: a mask for the sake of others, but a genuine feeling of composure. So when Rainbow heard the princess now, there was a marked difference in her words. She was still serene, but it was a controlled grace: an attempt to guard both herself and others from a stronger emotion she felt.
When she turned her eyes on the Princess, striding only just outside her tent, Rainbow almost gasped audibly. Everything about her stance, her eyes, even her mouth, was a mirror of anger. Celestia was, quite simply, furious. “See that do you?” Nemb hissed in her ear. “A benefit to being a Changeling. We have an innate ability to read into others and deduce emotions if they’re strong enough. Keep it to yourself for now. She’s hiding it, which for a pony of her caliber, means we are not to probe.”
Rainbow nodded silently in response, unable to take her eyes off the Princess. Every few seconds, something else about her body language would jump out at her and cement meaning in her mind. It was a bizarre sensation, to automatically know what a pony was feeling, though Rainbow thought Twilight might feel the same way about science at times. And even if that was not exactly true, it helped keep the sensation from feeling so alien. “We wish otherwise, sister,” Luna said, “but no, this canst not wait. Rainbow Dash.” Luna’s proclamation of her name could only mean she meant for Dash to step forward and reveal her new shape. Hoping for the best, Rainbow very nearly leapt out before her other friends, striking up her best winning pose. Dash held a grin, but Princess Celestia’s mouth only grew thinner and her eyes narrower. “Geez, first Twilight and Princess Luna...” Rainbow tried to laugh away Celestia’s growing disapproving scrutiny. “Am I gonna have to show my Element to everypony that thinks I’m a weirdo now?” She tapped the gem on her shiny ebony chest, but rather than give it any attention, Celestia addressed her friends.
“What is the meaning of this? Is this what you refused to tell me?” she asked, and Rainbow noted Rarity shrank away most.
“Darn tootin’,” Applejack responded, the least phazed by the princess’s quite severity. “We warn’t even sure when we’d see ‘er ‘gain ourselves.”
“But we knew she was in good hooves, we really did,” Fluttershy added.
“Sister, we believe it is time we tell thee all that happened since Aurora Streak arrived,” Luna said, bowing her head. “It wilt explain much.”
“Come inside then, and I want nothing left out,” Celestia answered, turning back and undoing the flaps for all of them. Nemb and Rainbow were the last to enter, and Rainbow received a small iota of encouragement that Celestia did not step inside until after they had taken their seats in the small enclosure. And it was indeed small. Occupied by two alicorns, five ponies, and two Changelings, there was only just enough room for everypony to lie down without physically touching one another.
“I’d like to begin, Princess,” Twilight said, receiving a nod from Celestia. “Well, Aurora’s ship came out of nowhere, and it was pretty clear from the beginning she didn’t want anypony to interfere with what she was planning.” From then on, it was a great exposition told from each of their perspectives as turning points came and went. It was difficult at first, but once they had begun, it was if the floodgates had been opened and they could not stop. In fact, Rainbow felt tension she had not even realized she was carrying draining out of her whether she was listening or telling the tale herself. With all of them chipping in when necessary, nothing was left unsaid. They told her about their first encounters with the pink field, the inhibition bubbles, and Aurora and Inky; Twilight’s visit and Rainbow’s scouting mission; Rainbow’s close call that, in retrospect, seemed ironically cruel for all it had put them through. They explained all they could about the pseudo-assassination attempt; Chrysalis coming to them for aid after Aurora’s stealing the Changelings from her control; they choosing to accept it; Twilight learning of Aurora’s involvement with the Changeling’s origin and the Nightmare Moon incident; Aurora’s difficulty with managing the Changelings and her other pursuits; her construction of alternate Elements of Harmony; and finally the battle that claimed so many and what they had all done to end it.
“Queen Chrysalis freed the Changelings and had Nemb look after me as I transformed,” Rainbow said, motioning to Nemb. “The rest of them are all out in the Everfree Forest taking care of the wounded like everypony is here. The doc and I volunteered to come try to open talks between Equestria and our Hive.”
“Our Queen wants justice served on that mad creature you have captive as much as you do,” Nemb added. “And after everything she and these fine ponies have gone through together, I believe she is ready to look past old grievances.”
“I really can’t look at her like an enemy anymore,” Rainbow agreed, nodding. “You guys’ll back me up on this right?” she asked her friends, Rarity and Fluttershy affirming their support more quickly than the others.
“Sister, thou hath been unusually quiet, though we do appreciate thy listening to our tale in full,” Luna said worriedly. “Doth thou accept this invitation of diplomacy?” When Celestia did not reply, only giving each of the ponies in her presence a loving look before moving onto the next, Luna continued, ever more concerned, “We wouldst take the lead at the table, if only the burden wouldst be less on thy shoulders.”
“I’m sorry Luna, and to all of you,” Celestia managed to say, Rainbow still able to sense that she was holding up a cracking facade of calm. “I have been listening, and it certainly makes everything make much more sense. It’s just, since Chrysalis is not trying to harm anypony, it is difficult for me concentrate on both her and Aurora equally.
“Please don’t misunderstand. I am greatly relieved that you are safe and whole, Rainbow Dash, and that you still possess your Element; and it always lifts my spirits when other nations wish to join with us in Harmony. But with ponies like Aurora who deliberately threaten that Harmony, it becomes a crisis of how to handle bringing in new blood when the old is still at risk.”
“We hath already offered to take the majority of the task ourselves,” Luna repeated. “It might be better anyhow, as we know Chrysalis better than thee, sister.”
“It has been over one thousand years since you last engaged in serious diplomacy like this Luna,” Celestia cautioned. “It is a more refined game, and Chrysalis is likely more skilled in it than even myself.”
“Well, that’s why the doc an’ I are here,” Rainbow replied with a grin, tugging a startled Nemb into a one-legged hug. “We can help bridge the gap, ya know.”
“Princess, if you want to be able to concentrate on Aurora, I can always help Princess Luna with the newer Equestrian laws,” Twilight piped up. “I want... I need something to do after everything that’s happened.”
“I believe we all ought to help,” Rarity asserted. “After all, we were the ones who welcomed Chrysalis into our fold. It is only fitting we be the ones to help into the larger Equestrian world.”
“You would do this for me, my little ponies? It is a great undertaking,” Celestia said, and Rainbow sensed the mask fall briefly as raw anger was replaced gratitude and love. It was alluring, beckoning. There was something different about it, something more potent than just another emotion. There was actual energy it, energy she craved. In a distant part of her mind, she could feel her wings spreading out of their own accord and a warmth beginning to flow through her body.
And before anything could truly come of it, Rainbow felt an intruding pinch like her tail had been stepped on, she letting out a small ‘Eep!’ in response. All around her, her friends were answering Celestia with various versions of ‘yes’, and quite distinctly, Nemb was glaring at her. You’re hungry, I get it, his voice carried sharply through her mind. But we need to do that in private unless you want to botch the talks before they’ve started. I’ll show you how once we can get a tent. I really should have warned you about needing to feed earlier, so part of the blame rests on me, but still, just hold off.
Rainbow tried to think something back, but all she could manage was a simple, Sure, doc.
“Well then, all of you, do what you need before getting some rest. With an undertaking this great, you will need it,” Celestia said. “Twilight, you and your friends can go on and sleep. My sister will handle everything until morning. Doctor, Rainbow, is there anything Chrysalis requested specifically?”
“She would like Princess Lacewing returned to her immediately,” Nemb replied stoutly. “That much I can do myself once I know where she is.”
“We have kept her with us in our personal quarters for her safety,” Luna assured Nemb. “We will take thee there presently. Rainbow Dash, wilt thou be accompanying us or thy friends?” In her heart, Rainbow knew Luna had not meant it as an impossible decision, or even one that required any degree of serious thought. But for Rainbow, she felt her loyalty to her friends being tried against her loyalty to her new Queen.
Thankfully, Nemb relieved her of the necessity, saying not without a long-suffering sigh, “Go on. Just be ready when I come back.” She gave Nemb an appreciative wink as she trotted out of the tent after her friends, brushing aside the reality of the choice being inevitable. ______________________________________________________________________________
Celestia watched all of her champions leave her tent, her heart bursting with pride at how right she was and how woefully wrong Verdance always had been. They were incredible; putting aside prejudice to support their friend, always giving of second chances to those who did not deserve them, and above all, willing to lend a helping hoof whenever they could even when the task would have scared off even the most hardened diplomat. The joy at the sight of her ponies had dissipated much of the fury brought upon by Verdance’s blatant threats, but a tinge of that returned upon Luna saying, “Doctor, please await us outside. We hath private matters to discuss with our sister.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” Nemb bowed. “Both of you are far less terrible monsters than the stories young Changelings are told at night describe, by the way. If it makes you feel any better coming from a born Changeling, that is.”
Celestia allowed herself a slight giggle as Luna opened her mouth several times, attempting to reply politely and eventually settling on, “We canst not be sure. But we thank thee that thou meant it as a compliment.” Nemb merely nodded, exiting with the silent skill acquired from years of service to royalty. Celestia sat with Luna without words passing between for what felt like a great deal of time. Celestia was sure that only a few moments had passed; but nevertheless, she soaked in that calming effect Luna so carefully exuded when alone with her equals. It was quite a talent, to remain so composed when with one whose powers equaled your own, and Celestia had never mastered it. Of course, ponies, griffons, zebras, and even dragons credited with great serenity, but to her they were but children and always would be. Verdance’s criticism of softness was at least partially true then. But better to be soft and caring than cold and brutal, Celestia berated herself.
“Verdance paid thee a visit, did he not, Celestia? We canst feel it in thy countenance,” Luna’s voice cracked through the stillness that had come over the night bound tent. Celestia offered only a nod, trying to think of the best way to relate all he had said to Luna. “How many of the others joined him?” Luna queried. “Surely he didst not come alone.”
“As a matter of fact, he did,” Celestia answered. “He says that The Origin is hidden someplace in the Everfree Forest.”
“I am amazed firstly that she still can run, and secondly that Sanctia even let him take her by himself,” Luna nearly laughed. “But sister, we didst not ask about his means of transport. What didst he have to say to thee?”
“Luna, I... I need you to promise me something dearest sister,” Celestia decided.
“We art leery of this, but we agree,” Luna replied, her tone reinforcing her apprehension.
“He threatened to take Twilight to The Cascade alone if my explanation of my attack did not satisfy him,” Celestia glowered. “I avoided that, but the fact remains that he dared suggest it at all.”
“We hope thou told him to go burn in Tartarus,” Luna quipped.
“That and then some,” Celestia said, a slight chuckle escaping her lips despite the circumstances. “But Luna, I want you to promise me to stick by side when it comes to Twilight. Obviously Verdance already wants to take her there, despite her not being near enough ready, and it is my fear he may try to use force if he becomes any more impatient. I will not let him take her.”
“Of course we wilt stay with thee in this!” Luna exclaimed, as if hurt that Celestia had even had the notion she might refuse. “After the Nightmare took us, we treasure our companionship with thee more than ever before!” There was a pause in which Luna sighed and slight grin crept over her face. “And to stand against Verdance’s cold demeanor, we wouldst do it alone simply for our own satisfaction,” she added.
“Thank you, Luna,” Celestia smiled, her sister’s own upturned lips quite infectious. “I hope there is never a need for us to hold true to this promise. There has already been enough fighting amongst Arbiters.”
“Speaking of whom,” Luna asked, “what didst he desire us do with Aurora? He might well have been angry with thee, but her he wouldst not simply choose to ignore.”
“What do you think he wanted?” Celestia spat. “He wants us to hoof her over to his custody so he can explain her heritage to her. Try to bring her into the oath.”
“We cannot deny the wisdom in that,” Luna said. “After all, if we had but done so earlier ourselves, none of this wouldst have transpired.”
“I think Verdance is trying to get her as far from me as possible, to be completely honest with you,” Celestia replied. “He sees us as oil and water, and does not want to clean up the mess we might make.”
“Again, we art forced to agree with his intention,” Luna said. “We were actually considering proposing Aurora be tried away from Canterlot for much the same reason.”
“It may be a good idea on the surface, but at least you and I are not so easily fooled by her doctrine,” Celestia said. “She and Verdance are far too similar for me to be comfortable.”
“Try to calm thyself sister,” Luna soothed. “Perhaps by having somepony who shareth her views at least in part, Aurora canst be brought to reason.”
“Ha! Reason is so subjective!” Celestia scoffed.
“So it is, and because of Variance, we canst not escape it,” Luna said. “Bear the weight of Aurora for a while longer. It will be over soon, whether in a manner thou approve of or not.”
“And after her... then Twilight’s safety. It makes me wonder if our lives are more defined by our hardships than our successes,” Celestia mused.
“We art quite certain they are, but rest easy sister. We hath already given our word to keep Twilight Sparkle safe until her time comes,” Luna replied.
“I worry too much, Luna,” Celestia said, her voice dropping to a mere whisper.
“Only because thou hath much over which to worry. Now sleep sister whilst we begin our talks with the Changelings with a return of one of their royals,” Luna said, consoling. Celestia nodded, lying down fully and closing her eyes in meditation. The longer she allowed herself to sink into comforting thoughts of her confidence in Luna and her love for Twilight, the more beckoning sleep became; until at last she met what would always be for her a world of dreamlessness.
Twilight had assumed her night would be filled with horrid nightmares of the bloodied world that had become the ruins of Ponyville and fitful moments of startled wakefulness. Thankfully, her sleep was dreamless and undisturbed, whether by Princess Luna’s guiding hoof or her own stark exhaustion she did not know nor care to discover. She had acquired a peaceful night of rest, and for her, that was all that mattered in the end. She would need all of the mental strength she had in the upcoming day. She might know Chrysalis as an individual, but she could not admit to knowing her as a ruler. And while she was sure those were not mutually exclusive, finding the small, subtle places wherein they merged would be a monumental task.
Of course, she had her friends and Princess Luna working toward the same goal. They would all have varied perspectives on each exchanged word, but Twilight thought those would be invaluable in the unprecedented negotiation. Thinking of her friends inevitably brought her to dwelling on Rainbow’s new allegiances. Knowing Rainbow, she would be torn between both parties and offering compromise was not usually her strongest trait when it came to argument. Twilight let out a long-winded sigh as she stepped from her tent, situated protectively behind Shining Armor’s own. As a friend, she wanted to help Rainbow as much as she could; but at the same time, she had no desire to be in so trying a position.
And I wonder how she’ll fare with all of the tension that’s is definitely going to be in the room? Twilight posed the question to herself. She was so fidgety last night from needing love... I can’t imagine how it will feel to be surrounded by nothing to draw energy from. Inwardly, Twilight was glad Dash had been reluctant to talk about needing to feed off love. It felt awkward just to think about it, let alone actually discuss it. Nemb had, with profuse apology Twilight and the others had insisted was not necessary, rescued all of them from the topic by taking Rainbow off to their separate quarters. All the same, Twilight knew they were going to have to confront the issue eventually—and perhaps sooner than any of them liked—what with it likely going to be a serious topic in the negotiations.
She had half made-up her mind to go see Rainbow: even ask to see how she looked when she fed; when her brother strode into the mess of sticks and fabric comprising the newest additions to the encampment. He had been up for some time already judging by the light dusting of ash already coating his armor and softening its clanking, and he was not alone. Alongside him was the doctor whom Princess Celestia had hoof-picked to operate on Inky Jay. Both he and her brother wore grim faces, sending a spike of fear running through Twilight’s chest. He’s not dead, she convinced herself. He’s not dead.
“Miss Sparkle,” the physician approached her, “I’d like you to come with me please.”
“Why?” she asked, eyes darting to Shining for some answer and finding none. “Did something go wrong with the surgery?”
“No, no, no!” the pony exclaimed. “Even if it was the most delicate operation I have ever performed in my whole career, it was a complete success. I just, well actually... it has nothing to do with me. My patient is asking for you.”
“Wait... what? Me? Inky Jay wants to see me first, not Aurora?” Twilight asked, perplexed.
“That wasn’t his first request no,” Shining replied, his tone touched with irritability. “When they first woke him up... doctor you can explain better since I didn’t get there until later.”
“The surgery has left Mr. Jay paralyzed in his hind legs and wingless,” the doctor said plainly, “and he was none too pleased with that outcome, to put it mildly anyway.”
Twilight’s eyes switched back to her brother as he said, “Mildly is putting it mildly. From what all the nurses say, he had a complete psychotic episode. He bruised one’s face with one of his hooves and almost broke his dumb neck trying trying to pull himself off the bed.”
“And he wouldn’t stop screaming at us,” the doctor added, Twilight’s face becoming a mixture of horror and confusion. “His voice was so distorted by whatever damage is in his vocal chords, we couldn’t understand much, but I think the gist is he would rather be dead than living without legs and wings.”
“Took one of my sharpshooters to finally put him to sleep again,” Shining said, and probably said more, but Twilight did not hear. Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, and her hooves were in full gallop toward the medical ward. Not many ponies—at least not many refugees—were awake at such an earlier hour, leaving Twilight alone with her thoughts and emotions as she pounded along. The feeling of a debt owed certainly accounted for much of her sense of urgency, but there was something less complex in her heart as well. She knew Inky Jay was no friend of hers—or any of Equestria for that matter—but the more she imagined his reaction…
Perhaps she was too empathetic, but he was no less a pony for whom he had chosen to align himself. And that being true, Twilight could not bring herself to callously ignore a pony in need of reassurance. She was quite positive he would reject anything she offered him, or outright scorn her for ‘falling’ into concern for those who could not help themselves. But then, she thought, he did ask to see me. Maybe I’m wrong. But regardless of how he acted or what he said, she needed to know what had spurred him to sacrifice himself. It was the ever persistent ‘why’ of survivor’s guilt which Twilight had the rare opportunity to have quenched; and she was not so foolish as to ignore the offer of relief.
Beyond the minimal activity about the majority of the camp, the medical wards had an even greater absence of movement. What ponies did appear came from one tent and rapidly vanished into another, usually bearing trays of surgical equipment or vials of medicine. Twilight slowed to to a cautious walk, not wanting to be in the way of any rushing nurses or doctors. Now faced with trying to find the recovery ward without the physician’s guidance, Twilight found her dash to have been quite illogical. As she weighed the decisions of waiting for her brother and the surgeon to catch her or go back to meet them, Twilight caught sight of an exhausted nurse stepping from a tent. She swiped her cap off and ran a tired hoof through her tussled mane, all indications of a long and hard shift over-night. “Excuse me,” Twilight ventured in her most polite tone, “I know you must be tired, but could you do me a quick favor and direct me to the tent where one of the patients is?”
“Who is it?” the nurse replied; weary, but not short.
“Inky Jay. I was told—” Twilight said, but the nurse cut her off.
“We put him in solitary, Miss Sparkle,” she answered, her voice dropping into heavy flatness and her eyes half-lidding in outright dislike of Inky’s name. “It’s the last tent on the right.”
“I’m so sorry about him,” Twilight apologized profusely. “I’ll see if I can’t get him more calm.”
“Oh, he’s calm already,” the nurse waved a hoof airily as she trod off, “but I almost wish he was still a raging mess.”
Twilight’s brows furrowed as she trekked down the seemingly infinite row of tents, but considering who exactly Inky was, she was not surprised the medical staff had become so frustrated with him. Twilight herself could only just stand his presence, and at that, she supposed it was because she had been around him long enough to become mildly desensitized to his social tendencies.
She paused upon reaching the final tent, wondering if she should peek in to give Inky time to accept her entrance or merely walk in naturally. She decided upon the latter, if only because she did not wish for Inky’s first words to her to be scathing remarks about politeness. She pulled the flap aside with her magic and walked into the all but bare space. Inky lay on a bed, his head down against his chest and his eyes closed. Judging by his irregular breathing, he was not asleep. A single rag of a sheet covered his hind legs and his entire torso was heavily bandaged. A small blood stain could be seen near his left shoulder. Twilight had expected worse and was glad it was not as severe as she had imagined.
She took a silent seat on his right side, not exactly sure what to say or if she should even speak at all. As it happened, Inky spared her the choice. “I had not expected you until later today,” he said, the grate in his voice a touch more prominent than usual. “I deduce by your lack of questions the surgeon took the liberty of describing my current condition?” he asked, his eyes cracking open and his head adjusting slightly to see Twilight.
“Did you really punch a nurse?” Twilight could find nothing else to say, though she immediately regretted her question. It was hardly a good way to begin talking with a traumatized pony: no less an eccentric character like Inky.
“So they say,” Inky answered with a rattling sigh. He winced and turned his head straight again from some pain. “I… I had a fit of… I am not quite sure what to call it. Denial perhaps would be the best description. I could not, at the time, accept what had happened to me.”
“And are you doing better now?” Twilight asked. “It can’t be easy, but…”
“It is far too easy, and that is my problem,” Inky replied. “I should not have, nor should I presently feel, any kind of loss. And yet I feel part of who I am has been stripped from me. I cannot help but think that once, I was a pegasus. Without wings, what am I? These are things I know better than to think. I believed myself to have ridden my mind of their hold.”
“But, you were… What am I saying? You are a pegasus!” Twilight protested. “You can still walk on clouds, and only pegasi can do that. Naturally anyway.”
“The mechanics are not the issue here,” Inky tried a cutting tone, but his voice shook instead. “Lady Aurora professed equality for all ponies. Her goal was to eliminate the superiorities of one breed over another, and I as her follower was to be a vanguard of that mode of thought. I believed myself to be that vanguard. Wings, horn, or neither meant nothing to me. Yet now, here I lie, caught in a never-ending stream of thoughts of my lost wings and paralyzed legs. I despise myself for it, yet cannot escape it.
“Did I never truly attain a higher plane of thought? Was my belief rooted not in myself but in Aurora? Or worse, have I fallen? Was my grip of the truth beyond the mundane existence before us only tied to my normalcy? And in that sense, one truly does question whether I even could fall if had not true grasp of truth itself. Either way, I find myself a hypocrite: a pathetic creature more deserving of death than those who wallow in ignorance.
“And now as the ultimate blow, death was taken from me. I must now recognize the scum of the earth that I am, and forever live knowing I acted in self-posed lie.”
Twilight allowed herself to blink several times, but her eyes, widened from shock, did not return to their normal size. She simply could not believe all that Inky was saying. If nothing else, Inky was confident in both his and Aurora’s beliefs. Within the span of a night, he had somehow lost all of his faith in everything that had defined his thoughts, words, and actions. And rather than accepting some form of error in his previous way of thinking, he instead had turned to self-hatred for appearing to not have followed Aurora’s set tenants. Twilight wanted to offer some sort of comfort for his loss of his wings, but he clearly saw it only as a point of failure on his part. What could she say? He had saved her from lying in the bed in his place. But perhaps that was the point. He had saved her from a physical end, and now she was presented with the opportunity to save him from his own metaphysical death.
“You and Aurora are always talking about ideals, you know,” she began, choosing her words carefully and a gentle tone entering her voice. “But an ideal is just that. It’s an ideal. We strive to reach it, but deep down, we understand there are some things that simply aren’t black and white. An ideal isn’t a law, it’s a guide. And I think equality is the same way. Aurora was on the right track, wanting ponies to set aside our differences. But that doesn’t mean we lose our identities as pegasi, or Earth ponies, or unicorns. We just have to learn that we are not better than the others.”
“Better…” Inky scoffed in a sort of mutter. “An Earth pony’s strength will always eclipse that of a unicorn. Always. The Devices were designed in part to force those who could not set aside those differences into separating that part of their identities. They were to provide a clearer path: a path I believed myself to be walking without the aid of Devices. My wounds have proven otherwise.”
“Even if unicorns aren’t as strong as Earth ponies, we have magic; so it balances out,” Twilight said, her feelings on everything Aurora had said and done bleeding into her words. “Equality isn’t about having everypony literally equal physically and mentally. Uniqueness stops that from coming true. Equality is about not lording a skill or talent over other ponies. It has everything to do with understanding yourself and appreciating the differences of others.”
Twilight expected a snappy, slicing remark from Inky Jay about her or the Equestrian populace. Instead he said nothing, turning his head straight again and leaning back against the pad which barely qualified as a pillow. A distant look crossed his eyes as if he was remembering something which weighed heavily on his mind: perhaps even something that had been pivotal in shaping him. “You can talk about anything you know,” Twilight said, her feelings of empathy becoming rather strong. “Princess Celestia always said I was a good listener anyway,” she added, managing a light chuckle.
Still he said nothing, instead wincing more audibly as he tried to take a deep breath. But once the stinging sensation had clearly subsided, he spoke, though his eyes did not lose their remembering stare and he continued to look straight ahead.“You speak of equality as an extension of a tolerant world. Perhaps Equestria has that potential now, but it will not last. Do you know where I was born?”
“The Land of Red Dunes I would guess,” Twilight answered, curious.
“More specifically, a small village called Caedmon,” Inky continued. “It was in a patch of withering grass and wilted trees barely qualifying as an oasis. Such was my life that I was born emaciated, knowing the pain of hunger from birth and coming to be able to ignore as I grew. My parents named me Red Jay after my coat and the fact I was a pegasus. I was treated well by everypony in my home; for I was but one of two pegasi in Caedmon, both of us foals of about the same age. They saw us as potential saviours of the oasis, and I was more than willing to one day take up the duty of trying to herd moisture into a cloud and bring that cloud over Caedmon. I saw it as my destiny and was content with it. Dusty Wind, the other pegasus, found her mark as expected and began helping make our village more liveable than before. But I remained a blank flank with poor flying skills at that.
“Then came the day… the day I found my mark. Helping to record on a sandstone tablet Dusty’s first actual storm cloud, a bright light gave me the mark I have today. I was terrified, and ran to my parents hoping they would understand. But my mother never shed a tear as my father dragged me by my mane into the center of Caedmon. He proclaimed my worthless mark to all the village and urged them to the sentence they would have proclaimed against me in time. My own village, those whom I had seen as brothers and sisters, tried to stone me to death.
“I half ran, half flew for my life into the endless desert. They did not pursue me far. I was gone and would die soon regardless. I was delirious and walked aimlessly for days. I ate sand and tried pricking my skin to drink my own blood. The desert took me quickly, after how many days I cannot remember. I collapsed into the soft sand and allowed sleep to take me with the full intent of never waking again… But I did, beneath the earth in Aurora Streak’s laboratories. She saved me from death for reasons she still refuses to explain to me, but she taught me that tolerance never lasts; that the shadow of an ideal is too easily betrayed. My own village proved her true.”
So that was it. All of his motivation and disdain traced back to a single event. Absolutism was the answer to a world he had seen upset by mere circumstance; the answer to the inconsistency and subtlety so often accepted by others as an inherent part of the universe. It was a straight, narrow, and clear path calling for action over idleness and introspection over experience. And above all, it was potent enough to be capable of being physically enforced. He saw any who rested in contentment as no better than the village of Caedmon. “Inky…” she said, reaching out and resting her hoof on his in comfort. He did not pull away, as Twilight had thought he might, but his eyes did close again. “Inky, have you ever thought that there is a middle ground? I’ve been around you long enough to know you enjoy simply thinking. Have you ever thought of actually using it for yourself rather than just as a way to apply an ideology?”
“Ideology requires thought of a greater kind,” Inky replied, though his voice was hollow.
“Only once,” Twilight said. “What about greater thought all the time? Finding who you are, who others are, what the world is; can you just allow you to define you?”
“I… Who I am…” Inky breathed, his voice taking on a haunting quality.
“Do you need some time alone?” she asked, feeling she already knew the answer.
“Yes…” was his uncharacteristically simple answer. Twilight nodded, watching him in his stillness for a few brief seconds before patting his hoof and pulling away from the bedside. She glanced back once more before pushing aside the tent flap with a brush of magic, doing her best to try to shift her thoughts to the upcoming negotiating table. ______________________________________________________________________________
Rainbow woke at her usual time right on the minute. A wry smile cracked her lips. It was in the little things that she could hold onto who she really was, even if she did look completely different. But just as quickly as she was given such an encouraging sign, one of the opposite effect beset her. Just trying to roll over off of her cot elicited screams of protest from her muscles. She groaned audibly, rotating all of her joints over and over to work out the stiffness. As an athlete, she had encountered similar morning strain after a particularly strenuous workout, but this was by far worse. That was not to say she had not been expecting some soreness. As she had sat and soaked in love (with what she now believed to have been a ridiculously stupid grin on her face), Nemb had mentioned the strain on her body of absorbing love, converting it into energy, and storing it. Or at least, that had been the gist Rainbow had gotten from him. She was sure he had gone into the medical specifics along the way, but in the bliss of having her desire sated, she had blocked out quite a bit of the rest of the world.
But as she struggled to stretch her new, light-refracting membranous wings, she found a frown forming on her lips. She had consumed love, of that much she was certain; but the trouble was the exact how of it. Even through the haziness that had been her feeding trance, she was positive Nemb had never given her any advice. Of course, being a Changeling now, it was possible that it was simple instinct ingrained in her altered psyche. Something like how nopony had to teach foals how to drink or eat. But for Rainbow, it seemed too basic: especially considering Changelings could also consume normal food.
Moving her joints a couple more times, she rolled off her cot; intent upon waking Nemb and asking the questions she felt had come far too early in the morning. Only, when she tapped the hammock above her resting place, it swung without the distinct weight of an occupant. Clambering up on a small lampstand while muttering grumpily about needing to learn how to use her new wings, Rainbow confirmed that Nemb was indeed gone. She had begun backing down when a frank voice penetrated the early morning silence, nearly making her fall. “I’d really rather not know what the appeal of my bed things is to you,” he said with a sigh.
“What!? No!” Rainbow shouted in her defense. “I was just looking for you. I’ve got some questions.”
“I’d thought you might, after what you did last night anyway,” Nemb replied.
“Wait, you say that like it’s a bad thing,” Rainbow said apprehensively, several unpleasant thoughts involving fangs racing through her head.
“Ehhhh…” Nemb shrugged. “It isn’t necessarily bad, but it wasn’t good either. Let’s hear your questions. Maybe you’ll mention something and we can go from there.”
“Um… I’m really, really, really sore,” Rainbow started. “I mean, I heard ya about that happening, but this is ridiculous,” Rainbow said, trying to suppress the disapproving tone in her voice.
“Oh good,” Nemb replied, nearly smiling. “Well, you are right after a manner of speaking. It’s worse this go ‘round because you didn’t show any… ah, restraint I suppose would be the best way to put it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rainbow asked, plopping on the earthen floor of their tent when Nemb came and sat beside her.
“Any Changeling knows how to feed on love instinctively. It’s part of who we are, for better or worse,” Nemb explained. “But as we grow up, our parents teach us how to feed properly. You might compare it to the way a foal eats its meals and way a grown pony does. Both definitely get the job done, but… well, you see the point.”
“You’re telling me I fed like a sloppy baby?” Rainbow said flatly.
“Blunt, but not inaccurate,” Nemb answered, offering an apologetic tone. “I didn’t try to stop you last night since you were too hungry to have managed anything, but those are lessons we absolutely must go over. To be completely honest, I felt the way you did it, and I am surprised you didn’t actually pull a muscle. I’ve had to treat that before in the stupid adolescents, and it is not pleasant.”
For the briefest moment, Rainbow felt her pride being struck at from all sides. She was not an expert in everything, but if she was not spectacular in in something, she was still not terrible at it either. But as her reactionist self called for her come to her own defense, a single, more poignant thought poked through. “I didn’t hurt anypony did I? I mean, I don’t know how it works or anything, but I didn’t like ya know… suck somepony dry did I?”
“It’s a valid concern, and in less congested place… yes you could have,” Nemb replied, tilting his head back and forth. “But luckily, with so many ponies around us, you were jumping from source to source faster than any other Changeling I have ever felt. I doubt they ever even noticed.”
And with that, Rainbow’s fears were allayed and her confidence rose several notches. Faster. In. Everything. was her thought, a smug smile accompanying it.
“Ha! You may think it’s a good thing now,” Nemb admonished her, a slight grin of his own creeping between his fangs, “but what happens when there aren’t so many hosts to choose from? I will teach you, but you must learn to pace yourself and learn how long you can latch onto a host.”
“It sounds creepy and weird when you say it like that,” Rainbow said, her brows furrowing.
“Well, I’m certainly not going to sugarcoat it for you. Those are the proper magical terms for feeding,” Nemb said dryly. “Now, before we go, I want to make sure you are actually full. You, well… you passed out after you were finished last night. I want you to take a deep breath and close your eyes. Concentrate on your breathing.”
“Easy,” Rainbow replied, thinking of her athletic training sessions. Controlled breathing was as much a part of exercise as the actual activity.
“Good, now fan your wings like you would when feeding,” Nemb continued. Rainbow did as instructed, her wings actually fluttering at the slow, tight motion she was attempting. “Careful,” Nemb’s voice said. “You move too quickly and you’ll start feeding and hurt yourself if you’re full.” Rainbow nodded, and put extra caution into keeping her wings perfectly still.
“Okay… now the last bit is going to be a tad tricky. You didn’t really know what you were doing last night, so it’s not so easy for me to explain how you go about managing it,” Nemb said, more to himself than Rainbow. “Can you focus on the hunger you were feeling? That might be a good place to start.” Rainbow wordlessly searched her memories, going back to initially becoming aware of her hunger: when she and her friends had finally been able to meet with Princess Celestia together.
“I can remember it, but that’s about it,” Rainbow said. “Is there supposed to be something else?”
“It’s unique to each Changeling,” Nemb sighed. “Some only have to think about being hungry to know if they are full, some don’t even need that, others are repulsed by the idea of feeding if they’re full, while I’ve even had patients—”
“Could you hold up a sec, doc?” Rainbow asked, feeling a shiver pass through her body as she opened her eyes and folded her wings down. Nemb paused, mouth half-open in speech, but obliged her with an encouraging smile. “ ‘Repulsed’ sounds like something Twilight or Rarity would say… but… it sure as hay feels weird to think about feeding.”
“Well, there are always levels of feeling if that’s your reaction,” Nemb seemed to ponder, Rainbow becoming increasingly aware of his tendency to tilt his head when in thought. “I don’t want to say for certain you’ve found your thermometer, so to speak, but you seem to be sure. If we don’t do a thorough check now, you know you will have to control yourself if you begin to get hungry before we break.”
“I get it,” Rainbow replied. “I’ll be chill about it, doc. I probably should let you know though, right?”
“Definitely,” Nemb said firmly. “I can let our Queen know, and she can find a clever way to request a respite. She wasn’t exactly pleased to hear your first feeding was without guidance. She understood, mind, but if I let it happen again… well, we will make sure it doesn’t.”
“Deal,” Rainbow said, offering a hoof-bump to Nemb, who only stared at it in an oddly perplexed fashion. “Wait, Changelings don’t do hoof-bumps?” she asked, the very idea seeming bizarre to her. Even griffons, which didn’t even have hooves in the first place, did hoof-bumps.
“Oh…” Nemb started, then chortled in amusement. “I suppose I will have to get used to these pony customs now that you’re around. Call us old-fashioned, but Changelings cross horns twice to seal a promise.”
“That’s… intimate,” Rainbow stated flatly, unable to find a more neutral word to describe her impression.
“Only if you think about it that way,” Nemb replied, now with a genuine laugh. “But come on. We have royalty of two nations to attend.”
“Woah, isn’t it early?” Rainbow asked, rubbing her eyes in the sunlight Nemb let inside the tent as he held the flap open for her. “Aren’t there, like, preparations for this kind of stuff?”
“In peacetime of course,” Nemb said, he and Rainbow trotting out into what would become the camp’s thoroughfare as the day wore on, “but in light of what has happened… well, that and Princess Luna and Her Highness were up most of last night ironing out a good deal of the details. I was mostly an errand colt between them.”
“And you’re not tired?” Rainbow gawked.
“As a physician, I’m used to being up at un-Faustian hours of the night,” Nemb replied. “And Changelings don’t have set sleep times. Rest for us is more for enjoyment than anything else.”
“I can get on board with that,” Rainbow grinned. “Naps in a nice tree on a warm summer day are the best.”
“I prefer water lines in spring, personally,” Nemb added. From that, their conversation became a swap of favorites of this and that and comparisons between ponies and Changelings. Rainbow was more than thrilled to learn that while Chrysalis’s court did possess a professional acrobatics regiment, underground teams were quite popular as well and always on the lookout for new members. Nemb was highly intrigued by the sheer diversity of pony food, and Rainbow found herself eager to take him to have this delicacy and that desert. As they neared her friends’ tents, (and with Nemb having becoming less talkative with the impending meeting with Princess Luna) Rainbow idly wondered why he was so unlike most doctors, who in her experience were usually stuffy and unhelpfully reprimanding. And even more amazing, he was not typical of a royal court. Part of it, Rainbow had to admit to herself, was due likely in large part to her Queen’s method of rule; but beyond that, Rainbow could not shake the feeling he was from a less esteemed background like her. From that came the ease of talking with him, which Rainbow had never encountered in her many stays in Ponyville’s hospital; and even more distinctly, Dash counted him as a friend.
Her musings were interrupted by none other than the energetic morning greeting of Pinkie Pie, which involved a large hug and shouting ‘Good Morning, Dashie!’ at the top of her lungs. Similar but more calm, good mornings followed from her other friends save Twilight, who was curiously absent from their small gathering. “So, where’s Twi?” Rainbow asked Applejack. “She still sleepin’ in, or was she up all night again like the doc?”
“Nah, she got some decent shut eye I reckon,” AJ replied. “ ‘Er brother came ‘round when we was eatin’ those little army breakfasts an’ said she’d gone someplace early an’ would be meetin’ us all with Princess Luna.”
“So Captain Armor told everyling how this is to proceed I’m hoping?” Nemb asked, though it was clear he already suspected the answer.
“He did,” Fluttershy replied, “though, if I can just offer my opinion here, he didn’t seem very happy.”
“Well of course he would not be overly fond of the idea,” Rarity offered. “After all, finding skillful and trustworthy guards cannot have been easy: especially after the battle.”
“We haven’t had any problems with anypony,” Dash quipped.
“It’s not the soldiers we hafta be worryin’ ‘bout Rainbow,” Applejack answered. “I’d bet my best buck tha’ tha Princess’s made sure ta tell all tha officers and stuff. A lot of ‘em ain’t happy ‘bout it, and that’s tha issue.”
“Can’t have all the normal ponies getting all crazy,” Pinkie said. “Come to think of it, they’ll all go crazy anyway! But that’s why Twilight’s brother has one doozy of a headache.”
“Sorting out which soldiers would merely, well… stand aside,” Nemb finished. “Shame that.”
“Depressing is more like it,” Rainbow said.
“But nopony else really knows Chrissy except us,” Pinkie said pointedly. “It’s sad, but you can’t really blame anypony. I think I’d be scared too.”
“Well, if you all are ready, we can head out,” Nemb said. “Judging by the sun’s position, Her Highness’s entourage will be here within the next five minutes.”
“We should hurry then,” Rarity replied, immediately taking the lead. “Can’t afford to make a bad impression with so much at stake.” They began in a light trot in the early morning sun, the dew droplets just beginning to steam away and leave behind only the building unpleasant odor of an entrenched military camp. At first, Dash paid little attention to the infrequent stirrings of soldiers they passed; but within seconds of the short trek, she could not see past a single row of tents so thick was the churning mass of the Equestrian military machine. Where only moments before she could hear the birds slowly returning to the ruins of Ponyville, now Dash’s senses were assaulted by shouting officers, the crunch of gravel underhoof, the almost musical rattle of armor, the smell of salt, and the unfortunate taste of dust kicked up in the wake of hundreds of organizing hooves.
But where the soldiers lacked courtesy for the ponies they would invariably be protecting throughout the negotiations, they more than made up for in speed and efficiency. Upon arriving in the middle of the road outside Ponyville by which the camp had been split between Sun and Moon, every Equestrian lancer, war flier, engineer, war mage, and guard had taken his stalwart position either lining the road or in an intimidating column behind Princess Luna, Twilight, and Spearhead. The commotion had drawn a number of refugees, but Shining Armor had apparently chosen well, for the iron faces of the ponies along the street mirrored their refusal to let any pony pass. Impressive a display although it was, the somber weight in the atmosphere kept all silent and even held Rainbow’s mouth straight as she and Nemb took their places with Princess Luna.
Silence descended over the Armies of the Sun and Moon, punctuated only by the wind whipping about flags and loose tents. Even what few foals had been brought to the edges by their mothers somehow remained quiet. The eerie quiet reigned for several long minutes until Rainbow felt Chrysalis approaching. Now close enough to them, Chrysalis was reaching out to her and Nemb, confirming they were safe and nothing disastrous had occurred. It was a mixed touch, both motherly and authoritarian, but caring throughout. And with Chrysalis’s contact, Rainbow’s telepathy leapt to prominence; she unintentionally tapping each of the Changelings with Chrysalis before reigning in the still alien sense. She glanced apologetically to Nemb, who she was sure had noticed, and let slip a sheepish grin in response to his half-rolled eyes. At least it was not so serious as Rainbow had imagined.
But any further thoughts on the subject were rendered temporarily irrelevant as Chrysalis and her chosen accompaniment came within the borders of the camp. A muffled officer’s voice bellowed out some command, and in response every Equestrian soldier came to sharp attention, the lancers lowering their weapons into an arch for the Changeling party. Chrysalis strode at the center of the entourage, the Changelings immediately surrounding her foregoing the official military appearance for their natural mane, tail, and eye colors. But the rest were not only almost blankly identical; their eye-shields were lowered and they bore the glistening navy Battleguard armor. Though with her included Chrysalis’s party numbered only just above two dozen, they were clearly her best.
And it was with Equestrian and Changeling displays of power facing down one another that Chrysalis came directly to Princess Luna and spoke with royal flair, “So, where are we to establish the future of our two kinds?”
“Follow us, and thou shalt see,” was Luna’s equally elegant reply before they turned in single file for the single largest tent on the Moon’s side of the camp.
Thunderlane watched the procession like everypony else displaced in the battle. His blood ran full with a mixture of fear, loathing, betrayal, and bewilderment. True, Lady Aurora had used them to her own ends, but in that very thought lay the difference to what he saw at present. They were a lesser race both unconcerned with and incapable of Ascension. They consumed the life-blood of family and deceived enemy and ally alike. If any creature deserved a position of servitude, Changelings were well placed to fill the role. And Lady Aurora had taken advantage of that to protect herself.
But this… official negotiation… acknowledged Changelings as not only potential friends to Equestria, but as equals to ponies at large. Now herein had two crimes been committed by his former Princesses. A lack of proper judgement and acceptance on the part of Celestia, and now a lapse of dignity from Luna. Whatever hope Thunderlane had held of Equestria’s future as subtly guided by Luna’s hoof vanished. He desperately wished to turn away as he heard the foul leader of the Changeling Hive greet Luna and the Night Princess do likewise, but he restrained himself. Departing before everypony else would only draw attention, and as things stood so delicately in the balance, he could not afford to take such emotionally fueled chances. Instead, he studied the reactions of all of his fellow ponies. There was rightful disgust on many faces, as Thunderlane had allowed to come over his own, but by far the majority were merely shell-shocked. Wide eyes and half-open mouths said more than words ever could; indeed, they were even clearer in meaning than the scowls and angled brows of the furious.
The procession ended as Luna, Twilight Sparkle and her friends, and the abominations entered what Thunderlane postulated was Luna’s private quarters. It was not long before the murmurs began, then evolved into loud arguments, and before long had exploded into crowd-wide shouting. It was nothing but a pile of emotions given a voice, and a headache-inducing voice at that. Thunderlane lingered in his place for a moment longer, just to be sure no riots would break out. But it appeared the presence of so many Equestrian soldiers in rank and file was quelling any more violent protest, and Thunderlane took it as his opportunity to squeeze his way between this pony, jump around that foal, and slither between couples.
As Thunderlane backtracked in quite the zig-zag pattern and with none too few ‘Excuse me’s and ‘Behind’s, he became conscious of several more ponies following his movements. Under normal circumstances, Thunderlane would have cast them commanding glares until they ceased moving in his direction; but even in the thinning crowds, a group of ponies walking and talking would hardly be suspicious. Even after everypony dispersed back into the refugee areas, it would hardly be unlikely anypony would be alone in their conversations. “This can’t be good,” the unicorn mare to his right said once they were close enough. Thunderlane searched his memories, and found that although he could not recall her name, he remembered her cutie mark of a stitching needle passing through a thin sheet of silk.
“There won’t be a march now, will there?” another mare next to her asked. Thunderlane knew her to be Honey.
“I doubt it. And it’s a right disgrace and disrespectful of ‘em,” an Earth pony stallion on Thunderlane’s left replied.
“They might go ahead with it and just save it until after whatever political bull crap they pull,” a third mare—much younger than the rest—answered with her head turned back to see her companions.
"Listen,” Thunderlane spoke out, using a lighter version of the tone his father had always used to grab his attention, “no matter what they decide, march or not, we can’t wait any longer. We have to move the schedule up, even if the Lady isn’t ready.”
“Why?” the young mare, now revealed to be a pegasus from her anger flared wings. “It’s going to be twice as hard with Changelings scampering like roaches all over the place.”
“Keep your voice down little filly,” the other stallion hissed at her.
“Because if the, ‘political bull crap’ as you put it, goes through, Changelings aren’t just going to be hangin’ around. They’ll probably become part of the Lady’s detail, if anything,” Thunderlane elaborated. “We wait for that to happen, and instead of random resistance, we’ll face two organized armies whose only purpose is to keep her locked up. You like those odds, ‘cause I don’t.”
“No…” the mare glowered.
“That’s what I thought,” Thunderlane said pointedly, then turning to the others, continued, “We can’t wait much longer. We can give the negotiation time to settle in, get over nerves and bias and all that garbage, but that will only take two, maybe two and a half hours, with Luna at the helm. The antiquated way she acts’ll keep the awkwardness down by drawing all of it to herself.”
“You have an idea here then I’m guessin’ ?” Honey asked.
“All of you go… Round up everypony who has the guts to act in a couple hours’ time,” Thunderlane answered. “They’ll be the only one’s worth bringing anyway. Go.”
“And what about you?” the youngest questioned severely. “Wanting some time to actually consider your decisions?”
“No,” Thunderlane bit back, perturbed. “I’m more sure of this than ever. What I’m going to do is boring but important, so it’s only need-to-know, which to be frank, you don’t.”
“Just follow the plan,” Honey suggested, not harshly but definitively stern. “Thunderlane’ll let us know if anything has to change.”
“I will,” he said. “Now scoot! We have very little time.” Thunderlane kept his tempered pace as one by one, the ponies about him took side-routes through the maze of tents. The firey young mare was the last to leave, intent upon discovering Thunderlane’s intentions; but the patience he had been practicing since his change of loyalty won out, and she too cut away into apparent oblivion. Once sure she was well away, Thunderlane himself diverged from the main path. He had not been lying to them: his task might easily have been relegated to some competent runner. But, in the spirit of the equality Lady Aurora envisioned, Thunderlane was determined to avoid using those with lesser status wherever possible.
His path through the encampment was simple: just off the predictable routes, but not so far flung as to be considered the outlying pathways. In Thunderlane’s mind, it was a vital element of their plan that these paths out of the camp and into the Everfree Forest remain clear. Now with Changelings openly invited within the borders of the refuge, he feared patrols might have been increased. If such were true, it was not crippling; but knowing if and where guards made their rounds would make evading or subduing them that much easier. As it so happened however, as he plodded along, Thunderlane saw neither actual guard activity nor any sign of a recent presence. His concerns were further allayed when, upon arriving at the camp’s boundary, the patrols had, if anything, decreased. From his hunched position behind a water barrel, Thunderlane counted at least ten minutes of a blind spot in the patrol pattern. That was nearly triple his last count. It was almost as if the world wanted Aurora free and was providing the right answers to all of his questions.
Not that I’m going to be an idiot and spit on fate, Thunderlane thought as he turned back for the more densely occupied refugee areas, but why does it look too good to be true? ______________________________________________________________________________
“So, how are things?” Nemb hissed to Captain Hept as first Princess Luna, then his own Queen Chrysalis took positions opposite one another. Hept chose to hold his reply, which irritated Nemb only just so. The two rulers nodded to one another in respect before taking seats on navy, velvet cushions; of which many more surrounded an elegant round table of wood made semi-transparent by magic. It glittered like the night sky in many places, which Nemb supposed was intentional. Once it was clear the sovereigns were comfortable, everyling else took his or her seat: with Miss Dash’s pony friends taking positions on either side of Princess Luna and Her Highness’s closer advisors surrounding his Queen. Nemb himself took a place next to Miss Dash, who had, at least in his opinion, taken quite a poignant seat near the middle of the two sides. Hept situated himself on Nemb’s other side, his warrior’s eyes passing over each of the ponies with practiced scrutiny.
“Everything is calm,” Hept replied low as he leaned back. “Bringing the princess back helped more than I thought it would.”
“You will refuse to say—” Nemb was sputtering, but was cut off with the empowered control in Princess Luna’s voice.
“It has been a good many eons since we hath taken part in both so monumental an occasion and so delicate a discussion,” Luna began, “and as much as we wish to bring our ancient knowledge of treaty into usefulness, we hath found it unnecessary at this juncture.” The momentary lack of voice in the air was filled by the furious scratching of quills as Twilight Sparkle acted as scribe for Princess Luna and the Queen’s own record keeper wrote out the words in the Changeling alphabet.
“Explain why,” his Queen answered, the traditional bite she normally possessed restrained, though not without considerable effort. “The Changeling Hives do not make treaties, even with each other. We know nothing of this process, so how is your knowledge not useful?”
“Please, Chrysalis, together we and thee plotted the release of two populations and when those plans of ours failed, together we invaded a flying fortress and fought against powers alien to both of us,” Luna said, nodding her head forward. “We believe we canst come to a compromise more quickly and more honestly without the formality of tradition.”
“And it’s not really our tradition anyway,” Miss Dash spoke up, earning the nods of several of Nemb’s fellows. From those who remained static, Nemb determined agreement in their eyes, but they were still too wary of Miss Dash to openly accept her as one of their own. Nemb found it a rather ridiculous notion, but he postulated that his confidence came from his more scientific approach to her new physiology. But in truth, his Queen’s reaction was paramount, and Her Highness eyed Miss Dash with a small, but approving, nod.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked, dropping any silk she was capable of layering over her voice. “I came to see justice done and injustice prevented.”
“Thou believeth we ought to center our negotiation upon Aurora Streak’s trial and judgement?” Luna queried.
“That beast, for better or worse, brought us together,” Chrysalis said. “I think it’s fitting to build an alliance out of that.”
“Perhaps a better solution would be to build it from our very interaction,” Luna suggested. “We canst not deny that Aurora wilt be a stipulation, and we art willing to accommodate you to a degree in that regard, but it seemeth foolish to build an agreement of protagonism between our kingdoms upon the hoof-stool of an antagonism.”
“I don’t see the foolishness there,” Chrysalis countered. “She showed we had strength together rather than apart.”
“In war time, yes, but such is always the case amongst nations,” Luna replied. “Might we make our framework proposal, then we canst go into serious debate.”
“Go on,” Chrysalis said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. Nemb was personally enthralled. The level of debate before him was not often seen in Changeling politics as his Queen was far more an active leader than had been her predecessor. Despite the Princess’s call for informality and more honest conversation, Nemb’s ears were flooded with subtext. Both Her Highness and the princess were attempting to assert their propositions as optimal while simultaneously offering some form of deference to keep the dialogue flowing. It was fascinating, and Nemb wished that something other than ink could record the moment.
So immersed was he in the multi-faceted nature of his surroundings, that he jumped when Princess Luna pointed a firm hoof in his direction, saying, “We believe Rainbow Dash wilt offer much more to our unity than Aurora. It is through her, and her growing understanding of both our cultures, that we propose we begin to construct a treaty.” Nemb shook off his surge of nervous adrenaline and leaned forward to better see the reaction of his patient’s face. To his rather prideful satisfaction, a determined smile and slanted brows adorned her face.
“I’m ready to do it,” she said. “Hay, I want to do it. There’s no reason we can’t get along if we don’t just practice at it. Sure, it’ll be hard at first, but no matter what you do, it’s always hard in the beginning.”
“If I might say somethin’, Princess?” Applejack looked to Luna for permission.
“Of course,” she answered with a nod and smile.
“I know it don’ look good ou’ thar,” Applejack said. “I know what it looked like before it was all gone. But, if we can all survive tha’, there ain’t no reason we can’t learn ta work together.”
“If I could interject?” Nemb decided to speak at the moment. Receiving no resistance, he continued, “Your Highness, I happen to agree with the princess’s proposal. Having been assigned to look over Miss Dash as she learns exactly what it means to be a Changeling, I can assure you that not only is she a quick and eager learner, but I have begun to reconsider what I believe to be central aspects of our kind.”
“I am opening my ears to what my other advisors have to say,” his Queen answered, glancing about at each of the Changelings on both sides. “I am not ready to blindly follow you, Princess Luna, but this entire conflict has taught me the value of the opinions of others. What say you, my Children?”
“You are generous, Your Highness,” one of the Changelings said, bowing.
“I was always generous,” she snapped, then more calmly said, “I have just changed my mind about who I give it to.”
“I think I speak for all of us when I say we side with you, Your Highness,” a second Changeling said. The others offered comfortable nods, and before Nemb could offer more evidence to defend his point, Hept rose to his hooves quite suddenly, drawing the dangerous attention of Luna’s thestral guard. His glare settled on them until he was sure they understood he meant no harm to the princess, before it turned more fiercely upon Her Higness’s advisors.
“You incompetent, motherbucking suck-ups!” he roared at them, which garnered equal amounts of shock and tension from all present. “You all sit there, hearing but not listening and caring only about keeping your place on Her Highness’s council! Has it ever crossed your rat-sized brains that she never wanted your advice because you never gave her any! Get out, get OUT!” he continued to bellow, forcibly smacking and shoving the Changelings until the last of their hisses and whimpers had faded. He breathed a small sigh before turning back to his seat and addressing the Queen, “I refuse to apologize. The air is already fresher, so that is good enough justification for me.”
“I wouldn’t have asked for one,” Her Highness replied, a fanged grin crossing her lips for a moment. “It’s safe to say you agree with Princess Luna then as well.”
“I agree with both of you actually,” Hept answered flatly. “Your Highness, as your Captain, I believe strongly that that abomination must be dealt with first. But if we do that, what do have after? Treaty gets built on a problem… problem is solved immediately afterward… What do we have then?”
“Luna,” Nemb’s Queen said, her eyes lingering on the still standing Hept for a moment, “if I accept and we begin our road to an alliance through working with Rainbow Dash to unite us, then I will not go any further until my demands on Aurora Streak’s sentence are met.”
The princess hesitated at the proposition, likely from having already formed some idea of how she and her sister were to punish Streak. “Elements? General? Thy impression? Thy opinion?”
“I… I just want to get it out of the way,” Fluttershy said.
“We were goin’ ta work with ‘em anyways right?” Appljack replied with an arched brow. “I don’ see why they can’ ‘ave the firs say.”
“It makes sense legally,” Twilight said, though her voice carried an absent note to it as she finished recording on the the scroll. “They suffered first, so they should be allowed to dictate the terms of consequence first.”
“I agree with Twilight, and see no issue with giving our guests first choice in the matter,” Rarity offered. “It is a courtesy, in a manner of speaking.”
“Personally, I’ll object to any proposed punishment if I don’t think it’s harsh enough,” Luna’s general grunted.
“Pinkie Pie, thou hast been oddly quiet through all of this,” Luna added. “We already have our course of action set before us, but we still wish to hear thy take.”
“Well, I don’t really care either way,” Pinkie said brightly, and pulling a startled Fluttershy into a one-legged hug, added, “like Fluttershy here. I really just wanna get this thing movin’ so I can figure out how to set up a Lurrrvvve Eatery.” While Nemb flushed at the less than subtle implication, Miss Dash burst into raucous laughter, pointing her hoof at Pinkie Pie and falling onto her back.
“Pinkie! That was… not appropriate!” Rarity reprimanded her, though she was blushing as well. Any impact of seriousness in Rarity’s tone was destroyed as Miss Dash rolled in a second bout of hysterics, this time, none other than Her Highness adding her own giggles to the torrent. Most everypony else lost their composure then, even the guards allowing their steely facades to fall and guffawing merrily at the bawdy joke.
And while it was with reluctance their joviality ended, Princess Luna’s call for informality and honesty was surely to be more easily met. _____________________________________________________________________________
A smile crossed the lips of Verdance as he listened to the negotiative banter through the ears of Luna’s guards. The sun glinted faintly off the magi-plane enclosing The Origin’s cockpit, and Verdance allowed his mind to wander into the past and imagine what glorious future was to be before a full Sentinel of Arbiters.
…
Aurora Streak was in a state of contemplation over what rumors had traveled through the mouths of Celestia’s soldiers, watching the shadows just outside her cell travel with the movement of the sun and clouds. Her attention was abruptly snapped away from her preferred ethereality as said guards outside let loose strangled cries of warning. Her eyes shifted from side to side and she almost stood, preparing for the inevitable desperate assassin.
…
“Wouldn’t it be a better idea to have a joint team of Changeling and pony engineers looking at the ship?” Twilight interjected herself into the fierce discussion around her. “It might take more time, but granting exclusive rights really isn’t in the spirit of cooperation.” She went back to scribbling madly over her seventh scroll, and as she did so, an odd tingling sensation traveled down the back of her neck.
…
“... so when you did not check in, I started to assume the worst,” Sanctia’s musical voice echoed within the confines of The Origin’s conference room.
“You know better, sister,” Verdance replied. “Had you heard from me, the worst would have already taken place. Everything is fine here, even if it is not proceeding at the pace I would like.”
…
Another of Aurora’s guards rattled against the bars of her cell while blood leaked from the helmet on his concussed skull. A magically levitated beam of wood beat him into complete unconsciousness, and in his place a young lavender unicorn mare stood. “Morning Lady Aurora,” she said, bright but deferential. “I’m Sparkler. Let’s see about getting you out of there,” she continued, as the other ponies enlightened by her proclamations gathered more closely to the bars.
…
“We think it wouldst be an apt time to take a brief respite,” Luna said, much to Twilight’s own relief. “And when convene again shortly, we shalt begin our approach to integration.”
“Agreed,” Chrysalis answered, the iron in her voice from the ceaseless debate remaining. With a final dot of a period, Twilight moved the seventh scroll onto the pile of others, preparing to levitate them to a safer place. Hammering out a compromise over Aurora had taken longer than Twilight had imagined would be necessary, but both Chrysalis and Luna had brought up crucial points that that had never occurred to her.
…
“And you might want to warn Axiomos,” Verdance said. “From what I have heard, the negotiations with Chrysalis are going rather well. But there is no telling how the other Hives will react. He should keep his eye on them.”
“Anything else you want to give me to pass along,” Sanctia drawled, which was quite odd the sound coming through her melodic tone.
“Not particularly,” Verdance answered. “But I will be coming to you once I have Streak. Two Arbiters will be better suited to bringing her into the Sentinel than one.”
“And your personality is not exactly endearing or encouraging,” Sanctia added, to the murmured chuckle of Verdance.
...
“And pulse one more time!” Sparkler ordered the impressive assembly of unicorns. Groans and heaves followed her command, but a cohesive bead in the magic beam aimed at Aurora’s cell bars formed and slammed into the arcane-laced barrier. The ponies held a collective breath, watching and waiting for the barrier to fade; and cheering one another in covert ways when the glow faded from the bars.
“Hurry! This way Milady,” Thunderlane said, separating himself from the crowd as Sparkler levitated the physical keys from the corpse of a guard and clicked away the locks. Aurora offered only a nod in response as she stepped into the bright sunlight again.
…
“I can’t say it really tastes like anything,” Rainbow was saying to her intrigued friends just outside Princess Luna’s tent. “You don’t actually eat it if you know what I mean.” Twilight was about to agree, her mouth half open with a ready explanation of the scientific impossibility of love having any kind of taste, when the same dangerous tingle traveled up her neck. It was more potent this time and definitively not a mere breeze. Something was very wrong.
“Something the matter, Twilight?” Rarity asked.
…
“And the dragons have once again decided to start hunting Diamond Dog,” Sanctia sighed irritably. “The stench when they get roasted is nearly unbearable and even comes through my shields.”
“They will stop eventually when gems stop finding their way to the surface,” Verdance replied absently. “And let us be honest with one another, being forced to smell burning Diamond Dog hide is far better than tracking—!” A distinct red glow flashed on and off all throughout The Origin’s interior accompanied by a single siren blast.
“She’s picked up a magical power spike somewhere!” Sanctia reiterated what Verdance already knew.
“I know! I know!” he growled out, leaving the conference room for the cockpit, the pulsing lights glinting off his narrowed pupils.
…
“Half of you are to dislodge and discard overboard any loose material while the other half are to descend to the lower decks and reassemble our propulsion system!” Aurora barked out the orders as her considerable following scrambled into the House of a Thousand Fangs through its many wounds. “Thunderlane, Sparkler, both of you shall accompany me to my command.”
“Lady Aurora,” they both inclined their heads, setting off at her flanks. Already, Aurora had activated her bracelets and was searching through the various portions of her ship, assessing the damage. As it stood, the channels for flight control were undamaged and merely without power; but nearly every other system had taken damage too severe to even consider attempting activation.
“Sparkler, we will be pursued. Make no mistake,” Aurora said. “I entrust to you the protection of this vessel until we gain the necessary velocity.”
…
“Don’t you feel it?” Twilight asked Rarity. “There’s just something off. It’s just a feeling, I know, but I can’t shake it.”
“Don’t tell me yar gettin’ cold hooves now Twi,” Applejack replied with a disappointed frown.
“No no no!” Twilight implored. “It has nothing to do the talks. They’re going great if history has anything to say about it. It’s something elsewhere. Gah! I can’t put my hoof on it!”
“It’s not the creepy McCreeperson Princess Luna told us not to worry about is it?” Pinkie asked, genuinely concerned.
“No…” Twilight trailed off. And while she sat it furious thought, the air was rocked by a fiery blast of noise and earth-shaking quake.
…
The world of the Everfree Forest screamed in Verdance’s very soul as fire burnt, sound detonated, and raw force crushed out of existence a multitude of Life energies. The magic’s explosive shock wave reached The Origin, rattling it’s entire frame and ringing against its ancient but superior metal. Verdance drowned away his senses in the intricacies of Life’s patterns, focusing all of his strength into raw magical output. Standing at The Origin’s helm, the horn clasp descended and encased his horn in cold metal, drawing out the necessary magical power to engage the ship’s functions.
…
The floor of wood beneath Aurora’s hooves rumbled in a familiar, almost soothing, flow. She was where she belonged, and everypony would soon know as much: brought into that same world or slain like the uninspired bags of flesh they were.
With as many blast holes as peppered the House of a Thousand Fangs, Aurora was privy to the crushing and cracking of the trees outside as her ship scraped the top of the forest in an effort to right itself, gain altitude, and also increase it’s speed. Once the sharp blasting of broken tree limbs ceased to intrude upon her hearing, Aurora narrowed her eyes and grimaced in concentration; the force of her command to her Devices carried on urgency and delivered with authority. Beside her, the unprepared forms of Thunderlane and Sparkler tumbled to the ground as the thrust Devices completely opened their power reserves, propelling the vessel toward Pegasus Cruise Speed.
…
At the roaring boom that echoed across the camp, nearly everypony save the guards flinched and ran for the nearest form of cover they could find. Chaos was unleashed: ponies and Changelings rushing to stay with friends and loved ones while the more stoic guards hollered and yelled above the ear-splitting growl, attempting to organize their ranks.
And as Twilight’s friends huddled together to avoid being separated, Twilight herself could only stare horrified at the Everfree Forest. She witnessed the impossible. It’s helm peaked the bending and whipping trees first, but the rest of the massive ship soon followed, crushing and burning the surrounding crowns with its girth and magic-produced flames. Like a predatory animal it loomed just over the trees, rotating in place until it faced due west.
And it was gone with naught but a trail of smoke… and a vicious, metalic pursuer.
…
“She is trying to reach Pegasus Cruise Speed!” Verdance nearly yelled as he lifted The Origin from within the Everfree copse and did away with its cloaking field.
“You know full well The Origin cannot reach the ley lines,” Sanctia scolded. “If you do not catch her now, we will never find her.”
“Not never, but I will not wait several hundred more years for a full Sentinel,” Verdance growled, redirecting the thrust from levitation to acceleration. The Origin whined as Verdance gave it no pause to gradually pick up speed, instead incessantly pushing the ship to fly faster. “I am going to have to shoot her down,” Verdance said when he ceased to satisfactorily close the gap between the two airborne vessels. “Alert the others. I am projecting it will crash outside Equestrian borders, and if we do not take control of the matter personally, there will be a free-for-all among the other nations.”
“Already ahead of you,” Sanctia replied, her voice steeled in the urgency of the situation. “Verdance I—”
“NO! DAMMIT!” he screamed, Aurora’s vessel ascending at an increasingly sharp angle and with its flames turned from harsh orange to brilliant blue and trailing lighter blue streaks of magic.
Aurora Streak was gone, and with her, all hopes of a firm resolution.
No doubt this letter finds you filled with righteous anger and no short amount of confusion. But such emotions will be yours to sort, and alleviating any sense of them is not my due: at least not necessarily. However, there are some things I wish to share with both you and the majority of Equestria at large.
I first insist that no effort be made by any to locate me and my followers. You will fail. At any rate, I am confident that in time, there will be no need to search for me. My reputation and the reputation of that which I shall build will speak for itself and colts and fillies across the world will know the name of Red Dunes.
Secondly, I have included a list of all the names of my current followers. I am sure it will aid Celestia in ascertaining how many have departed, but her ease of governing is not the list’s primary purpose. It is there for those whose family members and friends were left in favor of what I offered that they might truly consider the truth and legitimacy of what I spoke.
And lastly, I mean to address the matter of Inky Jay’s current condition. Where we have gone, we have not the time nor the resources to care for an invalid, thus my choice of leaving him behind. That said, I am more than aware of the danger of one of my disciples forced into residence in Equestria. To that end, I am placing him in your care Twilight Sparkle. From the Device that transmitted this letter is also the last of my battle harnesses and the notes I created regarding its operation. I believe you are the only one capable of fully understanding Device mechanics, Twilight Sparkle, and thus I feel that with some ingenuity you will be able to modify the harness to allow my scribe to walk again, if not fly as well.
Should Celestia, Luna, or any of the other powers now levelled against me disagree with this decision, I bring to their attention their other options. They might well execute him for association with myself, but I would implore they consider the public backlash upon their discovering his integral role in aiding the Elements. They might remove him to a prison, but I do not believe I need elaborate upon how swift his death will be in one of those houses of half-lives.
Thus, I rest my case upon where he ought to reside. I do feel the need to reiterate my further points. All else I wish to say can be found in the open invitation to Red Dunes I have sent to Celestia for Equestria at large. If one believes in a higher being, a greater truth… we will find them and take them in
Twilight stopped reading, taking the second sheet of parchment in her magic and saying, “And this is the list of names. There’s over three dozen here. I never knew…”
“And did she send the harness?” Inky Jay asked from where he lay propped upon the cot.
“Wait… you’re not upset?” Twilight asked, somewhat bemused. “She abandoned you. You don’t—”
“I am neither discouraged nor elated,” Inky interrupted her. “I grew up the Land of Red Dunes and her points in that regard are more valid than you realize. But… I am changed. The disciple of Aurora Streak that I was is just that… was. I will never be able to change the new ways she taught me of analyzing the world, nor will I ever shake my contempt for the complacent; but you showed me that ideology, however valuable, is not a tangible thing. The disciple I was believed otherwise. I am not the same; thus I do not feel the same.”
“Well then,” Twilight said, trying to put on a cheery voice to slice through the weight of all the events so recent, “since you asked, yes, she did send the harness. But I really haven’t had enough time with the negotiations to actually go through the notes; and actually, just looking at it sends a twisting feeling into my stomach.”
“I will not forget the image of those Changelings myself,” Inky replied. “But you need not rush. Bearing in mind this will be my natural magic the harness will be tampering, I would rather wait and be lame than hurry along and die.”
“Besides, you do need to get to know everypony better if you’re going to be living here,” Twilight said. “Can’t really get around it if you can’t go anywhere.”
“I suppose… though I hope they understand that I am still largely the same pega— pony they knew,” Inky cautioned. “I hold back no criticism.”
“I’m sure they’ll figure it out,” Twilight assured him. “I’ll come by later to give you something decent to eat for supper.”
“I still have three weeks in this bland tent before they allow me a wheelchair, so you can be sure I will still be here,” Inky answered, closing his eyes for undisturbed rest as Twilight exited the ward.
