Repainted Skies

by Thistle Down

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Alternate Universe
Length: 2560

A series of foalnappings, a spell that does something taboo, and conspiracies against Equestria's throne. Now it's Cloudy Shimmer's problem.

Cloudy Shimmer has had a rather sucky life. She wanted to join the royal guard, but was too short. She wanted to work with the weather, but she couldn't do it without nearly getting fried by lightning, and breaking bones. She couldn't even follow her own talent, making blizzards, because she couldn't handle the hoofwork.
So when she's foalnapped, she takes it fairly well, considering it just another chapter in her Tartarus-be-bleeped life. Until she's used as an experiment in a new, untested spell, and it works. Unfortunately, Cloudy Shimmer also finds out this spell is going to be used to take down Equestria's form of government. And she can't let this happen.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-08-04 03:25:48 UTC

Chapter 1

“Cloudy Shimmer, you do not meet the height requirement for the royal Sun Guard, or any of the guards,” The commander said, his grey eyes eyeing the blue pegasus.

“I’m sorry, Cloud, but you don’t have the talents required for such delicate work in our snowflake factory,” The Head Mare said, resolutely looking away from the mare with her odd, pure white mane that was cut into jagged layers.

“Geez, who taught you how to kick storm clouds, Shimmer? You could have killed yourself. We don’t need a weatherpony who can stomp a cloud into a blizzard,” The older head weatherpony turned away from the bed-ridden pegasus, avoiding the angry green eyes that burned into her back.

Cloudy Shimmer sighed as she trotted down the dusty road, thankful she had decided to stop until the caravan she had had lunch with was gone. Her white mane had gone almost tan from the dust on the road. She snorted to get the dirt out of her nose, and ruffled her one uninjured wing, the other put in a heavy cast while the broken bones healed.

The small cart she had strapped to her body was made a light, but sturdy wood. She had managed to rig the straps that held her to it away from her broken wing, but occasionally the leather strap connecting to the right side of her harness would hit the injury.

The mare looked up at the sky, noting the near-sunset appearance. She began to look for a place to rest or the night, and soon found a medium-sized cave that she could fit her cart in. She unhooked her harness from the cart and checked inside for any wild animals. Finding none, she returned to her small wagon and pushed it backwards into the cave until she felt it gently bump the back wall.

She breathed for a few moments before taking off the harness and clearing a spot in front o the cave for a small fire. Within minutes, the sun was set and there was a merry little fire crackling away, and Cloudy was cooking her dinner; an appetizing mix of Brussels sprouts and potatoes slathered with butter, garlic, and onion. Not the healthiest meal, but it was cheap, and filling.

As she chowed down on the meal, she kept an ear open for any wild animals that might be out and about. It was summer, which meant food was plentiful, but she knew better then to let that fact be her only security.

The mare finished, licking the bowl clean and returned to her cart to take out three items: A sleeping bag, an extra pillow, and today’s newspaper.  She had picked it up on her way out of Manehatten, since Sunday papers were free of charge. She also grabbed a hairbrush and a bottle of water. She had three extra, so she used this half-empty one to wash the tan dust from her mane, leaving it white once more.

After that she brushed her mane and tail, preened her uninjured wing (and ignored the itchiness coming from her broken one), then pulled her partially dried mane into a ponytail. Then she settled into her sleeping bag with her newspaper, reading by the dimming light of the fire.

The top story was about some mare being crowned as princess, and how her coronation had gone. The mare was short for an alicorn, and looked small in her large dress. But she looked happy, a lot happier than Cloudy was feeling right about now.

“Some mares have all the luck,” She muttered grumpily, but finished the newspaper before tossing it into the flames. The fire flared back to life, devouring the new fuel.

“Who shall be used to practice this new spell?” One voice whispered in the dark. Golden eyes glowed, with slit pupils like a cat or dragon. The voice was deep, masculine, and had a faint rasp to it.

“I would prefer a foal, Earth pony to be more specific, but I’ve learned that a young adult would be best, since their magic is more mature,” Another voice said. This one was feminine, and very beautiful. There was a faint glow as a horn emitted magic, levitating a scroll tied with a black ribbon to the first speaker. There was a moment of silence as the scroll was taken.

“Dim the lights; I can see in the dark, remember?” The first voice snapped, and the unicorn stopped the illumination spell on her horn.

“I want four, one of each breed. Studies show there has never been a male, so we shall stick with female for now, got it?” The first voice mumbled an affirmative.

“The scroll contains valuable information; don’t let anyone catch you with it. If you are caught with it, then lie about the instructions. If you are about to be caught, eat it.” The mare turned to leave, and the stallion heard her hooves on the cobblestones as she trotted casually away.

“Oh, and one more thing,” The mare called back. “Keep it quiet.” The stallion chuckled as he walked the opposite direction, tucking the scroll into his saddlebags. Nothing else could be seen of him, the moonless night too dark for details.

“Sister, I am sorry to wake you, but there is trouble,” A dark blue alicorn mare with a moon cutie mark and a familiar set of black regalia stood at another mare’s door, waiting for the inevitable chaos such an early awakening would bring.

“Luna…No. It is 3 am, it’s early as Tartarus, let me sleep in…” The sleepy, resentful mumbles came from the oversized canopy bed, concealed by semi-translucent drapes. A few minutes later, there can a raspy snore, and Luna rolled her teal eyes.

“Celestia, it is actually quite late for me, if you have the presence of mind to remember. This cannot wait until the sun rises, though I would not want to disturb your rest any more that you would mine.”

No answer came from the bed, just sleepy, half-conscious mumbles. Luna sighed, then lit her horn and conjured something into being:  a foghorn. She sat back on her heels, covered her ears with her fore-hooves, and blasted up the sound.

The sonic display made the Princess of the Sun jump straight out of bed, her multicolored mane frizzing out in such a way as few would ever see. Luna continued the barrage until Celestia walked up to the noisemaker and grabbed it, then smashed it until all that was let were mangled fragments of steel and rubber.

Luna backed up, then courteously dipped one wing. “Shall I tell you what the problem is?” She asked the frazzled alicorn sweetly.

Captured

____________________________

Cloudy Shimmer woke to it raining. She scowled at the soaked sleeping bag. Normally, she would have just made a windstorm to dry it out mostly, but she instead put the damp fabric in her cart, the pulled the hooked, drawstring tarp over top of it all. She didn’t stop for breakfast, just chewed on an apple as she walked, holding the fruit with her wing.

She didn’t mind the rain itself; it was just another thing she couldn’t do. “Stupid talent,” She muttered after a moment, throwing herself against the harness when the wheels caught in the muddy road.

“Need some help?” The white-haired mare looked up in surprise, seeing a bat pony swooping down to land beside her, shaking the rain off. He was dark-coated, a sort of reddish-brown color, with a black and blue mane, and bright golden eyes. His cutie mark was a crescent moon with a star hanging from the top by a rope. After flapping his wings out, he tucked the leathery limbs to his sides and began to trot at her side.

Cloud smiled nervously, and then shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m almost to where I need to go,” She said, pulling uselessly at the harness.

“Yes, I suspect so.” The stallion said, a flash making his eyes blaze. He then screamed at a pitch which made the pegasus yelp in pain, throwing herself against the side of the harness to escape the sound. But it continued to build until the mare’s struggles stopped, and she collapsed.

She woke up strapped down. Her injured wing throbbed with pain, her head throbbed, and her mouth was horrifically dry. She was on a cold metal table, on her belly. She licked her lips, moving her head to look around. She was in a stone room, and her internal clock told her it was late, after dark at least.

She shifted, trying to pull herself into a more comfortable position, but she was well and truly stuck. The green-eyed mare snorted irritably.

“Well, she is awake,” A voice said, echoing. Cloud shifted, trying to pinpoint the speaker. She saw something carved into the floor beneath her, a circle with points drawn to it, like a giant stylized star. She blinked.

“Who’s there? Who are you and where am I?” She demanded, getting angry. The restrained pegasus struggled.

“Get to your positions, everyone.”

The mare shuddered, feeling extremely vulnerable in her enclosed position.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

“An excellent specimen, if somewhat damaged, Shadow. But I suppose she is an acceptable replacement for that escaped mare,” The feminine voice said, almost imperiously.

“Her wing is almost healed anyway; pegasi heal fast,” A semi-familiar voice said, and Cloud twisted to look for the bat pony who had foal-napped her.

“Where are you?” She demanded loudly, following up with several well-meant words of the sailor variety. Her explicit language was cut off abruptly when red light flared up around her, surprising her.

“Oh, thank Faust. One more word and I’ve had gone for the soap,” A stallion, unfamiliar, called out. “So the chicka does shut her damn hole.”

“Now now Sun, you mustn’t be rude. After all, she’s giving her life for what we believe in.”

“Say what now?” Cloud struggled harder than before, then yelped when a red aura pinned her firmly into place, arresting her movements.

The scarlet circle seemed to bleed as unicorn magic surrounded her body, and Cloud sensed earth magic, from earth ponies, shifting into position around her. Her eyes widened. What in Equestria was happening?

The foreign magic struck her, and she shrieked, feeling it soak into her fur like acid. It burned. Her head felt like it was swelling as something seemed to stab into her brain, and her hooves felt like they were liquefying, freezing, and being remolded. Her wings locked.

Her vision went spotted, then began flashing red and mottled orange.

She came out of a haze she hadn’t noticed she was in, and realized she was in a dark cell. Her head hurt, and she wasn’t sure her legs could hold her up if she tried walking. Over her entire body, the only thing that didn’t hurt were her wings.

At that realization, she sat up, teeth grinding as stiff limbs ground their abused muscles. She managed to look over her shoulder, and check out her wings. Oddly enough, they seemed bigger. She frowned, opening the avian limbs carefully. They were definitely bigger.

Cloud stretched the feathery appendages and couldn’t help but stare once she realized both wings were perfectly okay. The formerly injured wing was as unmarked as if there had never been a breakage, let alone a bruise. She turned the limb and saw a bald patch in the feathers, and her heart clenched.

She tilted it so the edge was closer, and saw what she didn’t want to see. Her primary feathers, the ones which stabilized flight and allowed for some of the more daring maneuvers a pegasus could attempt, had been torn out.

She straightened into a sitting position, stretching out her stiff muscles and preparing for whatever might come her way. It was obvious that she was wanted alive (otherwise, why not kill her while she slept?), so she tried not to worry too much as she preened her remaining feathers and chewed out the worst of the tangles in her white mane.

She quickly got bored, having nothing to do but rest. Her stomach tightened, growling with hunger and thirst. Her head ached horribly, and it only got worse as time passed.

Finally, the door opened and the bat pony who had foal napped her entered, a tray of food and water balanced on his wings, a smug smirk on his fanged face.

Unexpected rage boiled to the surface, and Cloud shot to her hooves, and walked towards him. Weakness dredged at her balance, but she kept on until she was within reach. “What did you do to me?”

The bat pony set down the meal calmly. “Don’t speak to your betters like that,” He said, then sent a warning slash towards her with his wing talon. It scrapped over her breastbone, and blood welled up from the light scratch. Cloud winced, and glared.

“You’re not my better! Where am I?” She was determined to get her answers.

“Don’t strain yourself, sweetie. You’re going to be here until we say so,” The bat pony responded infuriatingly. His eyes glowed for a moment when he looked at her bloody chest, but he turned away and closed the cell door, a basic wooden door with a barred window. There was no handle on the inside.

The lock clicked, and somewhere in the hallway beyond, a light was turned on, flooding the cell with brightness. Cloud, getting the full brunt of it, was partially blinded for a moment. She turned, anger ebbing away into a sort of restless exhaustion. She was tired, but felt no need for sleep. Her aching body felt better when it moved, so she paced around her cell, occasionally stretching her wings out.

The ceiling was high enough that she could fly if she put her mind to it. She didn’t try, aware of how fragile her wing felt. Anything too strenuous might overstrain the wing, rendering it worse off than before. She continued her pacing for a few more minutes until she felt reasonably limbered up. Then she began stretching more vigorously, careful of her tense muscles.

Her stomach ached with hunger after she had rested, so she ate the cold sandwich, orange slices, and drained the cup of water. Finally, she was tired enough to sleep. She laid on the hard bed, drifting into a no-pony’s land, a sort of hazy dreaming state.

She didn’t dream of anything in particular, just flickering images she couldn’t make sense of, at least, until the end.

It was daytime. An older unicorn stallion was supervising a class of students working on their magic. Today, they were practicing kinetic blasts. The specially-designed targets were meant to fall back when hit then pop upright with no prompting. One student seemed to be having trouble, his horn barely flickering let alone blasting. The teacher knelt beside the foal, and smiled tolerantly.

“Just imagine a big punch, Flicker Light. Pretend that the target is a timber wolf attacking your family, and react,” The teacher tried, then sat back and waited. The student hesitated, but threw back his shoulders and activated his magic, a bluish green aura. He grunted, and suddenly blasted the target so hard the wooden apparatus exploded.