The cool night air blasted in Furyheart's face and ears. As he rose through the clear night sky it began to feel like needles of ice being dragged across his hide. The smell of the storm still lingered in the lower atmosphere, the air having calmed considerably since the thunderhead passed. Streaks of thin wispy clouds hung in the sky like paintings on a wall, catching moonlight and casting it back as a soft glow.

A brief temptation to perform an aerial maneuver grew inside of him, but when he tensed his muscles in preparation for the exertion, he felt an unwilling response echo back from his every nerve ending, and the temptation swiftly fled.

Furyheart watched the still forest pass idly beneath him. Nothing moved above the trees, but Luna only knew what moved beneath the canopy. He had just caught sight of a trio of birds dart briefly over the treetops, when he heard wings behind him. He craned his neck around.

"Sunspot," he greeted her.

"Heeyy," the pegasus dragged her response out. As good as she was at being friendly to strangers, she hated confronting uncomfortable social settings. "What are you up to?"

"Flying, thinking, trying not to think," Furyheart replied.

"So I heard you and Amber Brilliance were having a... discussion."

Furyheart sighed, "You mean I have overstayed my welcome and offended my host."

"What? No, honestly he's more concerned that he offended you than anything else, and we're all concerned for your health right now."

Furyheart's eyes narrowed. "Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Because you're a recent concussion victim, you're acting erratically, and you don't have any memories or any idea where the village is."

Furyheart looked around and realized he did not know the intricacies of this forest, including the whereabouts of his temporary home. "Valid points to be sure," he said, "but why do you care?"

And then it was Sunspot's turn to be confused. "Because we don't want you to go out and get yourself killed? What reason do we need?"

"None I guess, but, and I have no idea why I am thinking this way but I find your lack of personal incentive hard to trust. Let me put it this way, if you had something to gain from me being alive and safe in your community, I could understand your inviting me to stay, but..."

"But because you don't see any reason for us not to stomp you to death in your sleep you don't trust that we will resist the urge, or you think we have a hidden agenda you might not like to be a part of?"

"Yes, more or less."

"Well," Sunspot took a breath for emphasis, and to help her through what was shaping up to be a long-winded rationalization, "AB needs you for research, I could always use an extra worker, Prize can always use help out in the field, and Mort, well, Mort's motives are confusing. That enough selfishness for you to trust our intentions?"

"Yes."

"You willing to admit that you just can't stand feeling like a burden on others?" Sunspot asked, shooting a cheeky grin at Furyheart.

Furyheart shook his head and laughed, "Not quite."

Sunspot peeled away and led Furyheart back to the village. They landed in a nearby clearing, and walked into the housing area. Ponies were milling about, clearly having been awoken by the commotion. They stood in small clusters huddled in the emotional shelter of one another's homes and open doorways, speaking in hushed tones, exchanging speculation on the few scraps of details that they had gotten from Amber Brilliance.

A number of the windows were lit, casting stretched images of themselves onto the ground, but generally not giving much illumination. Prize and Amber Brilliance stepped out to greet the two flying ponies. "Is everything alright?" asked Amber Brilliance.

"Just needed to clear my head," replied Furyheart, "Thank you for your concern. I hope I have not been too much trouble."

"No, no, we're just glad to see that you are still well," said Amber Brilliance.

"Well, as well as you can be!" Prize added enthusiastically. "What?" she asked to the glares her friends gave her, "He's had a concussion, been completely cut off from everyone he knows, and found out that his fiance is a wanted criminal. I'd be crying in a corner right now if I was him."

"You're not helping, Prize," scolded Sunspot.

Furyheart heard a familiar voice approaching from his left, "Oh hey, you're back." It was Mortarmer, with Poisonberry in tow. Furyheart swore he saw 'Berry pass Mort a few bits. "I was betting you would be," Mort added.

"Yes, I think we should be getting back to bed now," Amber Brilliance interjected, "we have a busy day tomorrow."

"I'll leave him in your care AB," said Sunspot. She turned to Furyheart, "And you, try to take it easy, and remember what we talked about." She turned and trotted back to her home. The rest of the group followed suit and returned to their beds.

"Busy day?" Furyheart asked Amber Brilliance as they walked back to his hovel, "Should I be worried?"

"I have a theory about how we may be able to help you recover some of your memories," Amber Brilliance explained, "Ah, here we are." He looked up at the pulley elevator. "This thing gets taller every time I use it," he said with a chuckle.

"It is not my intention to be rude," Furyheart said reluctantly, "but seeing as it is so late, and the only reason you are out of bed is because I inconvenienced you, I wish you would let me carry you to the top."

AB sighed wearily. "Well, since it is so late, I think that would be alright."

Furyheart lowered himself so that the pony could climb onto his back. Amber Brilliance was lighter than expected, and felt strangely emaciated. Furyheart could have easily leaped to the top, but decided to take the ascent gently. Once they were inside, he helped Amber Brilliance into bed.

"Thank you," said Amber Brilliance, "Hate to admit it, but I was not looking forward to that climb."

"I should thank you," replied Furyheart, curling up in the corner of the dark room, "for allowing me to be useful. I am not learned enough to understand more than the notions of what you say most of the time, Amber Brilliance, I was not given that blessing, so as long as you use your gifts to help me bear my burdens, then I can use my blessings to help you bear yours."

"Oh, stop being so dramatic, I just do what little I can."

"You are too humble my friend," said Furyheart, "but if I cannot convince you, I will drop the subject."

Amber Brilliance warmed slightly at the complement. "Well that settles it then, we can owe each other favors until the day we die, neither of us able to satisfy our own debts."

"Agreed," said Furyheart.

"I am excited for the tests tomorrow though," said AB, trying to restrain himself from gushing over every last detail. "I wish I could tell you about them, but I know Mortarmer would rather I wait. Oh tomorrow cannot come soon enough. I can hardly sleep."

"I feel as though I've never slept," said Furyheart, his mind wandering down a tangent. "What will happen? Who will I be when I wake?"

"You will be whoever you choose to be," answered Amber Brilliance, "but I'll just let you rest, it has been a long day."

"Indeed."

That last word rang in Furyheart's head for what seemed like hours. It was the last word he heard that day. His brain latched onto it and mulled it over. What a strange way to stop talking to somepony. The word distorted and lost meaning, the syllables became almost comical. He thought about his thoughts in a very self referential and confusing way until his breathing slowed, and he finally fell asleep.

***

Furyheart was woken in the morning by Mortarmer and Amber Brilliance discussing something, both of them looking all too cheerful, especially Mort. "Oh hey, you're awake," Mort greeted him with the flat, unenthusiastic tone Furyheart had come to expect of him. "Good. Let's begin."

"I think we should tell him what to expect first," said Amber Brilliance.

"Oh there's time, we have some setup left, and I know how you are about getting informed consent from subjects."

"Participants," Amber Brilliance corrected with some exasperation. Mort grinned mischievously and busied himself with some vials of a clear liquid and-

An injector? Furyheart felt his skin prickle with a sudden burst of panic. "Is there going to be an injection?" he asked nervously.

"Yes of course," answered Amber Brilliance, "that's part of what I need to brief you about."

"Don't worry," added Mort, "I'm very good at this." He tapped his hoof against a syringe that he had filled from one of the vials; apparently with enough deftness that Furyheart had not even noticed the process.

Furyheart's voice croaked, "Uh, Amber Brilliance, I am worrying. I am worrying right now!"

"Don't worry, the substance is perfectly safe, and Mortarmer is very practiced at this. He has delivered several local anesthetics to me for surgeries in the past," said AB. "But please let me explain the experiment to you. Among the vials you see is a 'beta-agonist' which we developed in earlier tests."

Mort interrupted, "We had to draw blood from mice, and then I had to develop a means of comparing it to control blood samples, then taking the difference and synthesizing it with things available in the forest. All this after a chemical analysis which I did by way of magic nopony else in Equ-the world knows how to do. It was very time consuming."

AB replied, with marked frustration in his voice, "I don't think that's entirely relevant to the-"

"I just want him to appreciate how much of a hint I'm giving him right now."

The frustration had been replaced by slight confusion when AB spoke again, "Riiight. The purpose of the compound is to elicit your emotional memory as it were, hopefully any stress you were feeling leading up to your collision with the ground will have left its mark somehow." He paused briefly, seemingly squinting at something on Furyheart's forehead. "The others, are, pla-placebo. Saline specifically, but with a mild irritant mixed in, as the specific formula of the agonist leaves a slight stinging sensation.

"After a control of no shots, you will be given the other shots at three hour intervals, each followed by a brief break to let the chemical take effect." Amber Brilliance exhaled deeply and finished, "Do you have any questions?"

Furyheart scratched his head and asked, "Lunch break?"

AB answered curtly, "At noon, after the first two tests." For some reason this made Mort laugh under his breath. "Let us begin then, tell me, if anything, what you can remember happening before you woke up in the forest."

Furyheart tried. He raked his brains and found it felt simultaneously like pushing against a wall, and swinging his hoof through the empty air. There was nothing to hit, and the nothing was impenetrable. He thought he might remember something, but it had no form, it was the notion of things he probably ought to remember, but it seemed as though nothing existed before that day. He pushed at the edge of reality, and it did not yield. He shook his head.

"Alright, perhaps something more directed," said Amber Brilliance, "Where do you come from? What is your home? What is it like? Who lives there?"

Furyheart cudgeled his brains from the inside, the answer had to be in there. "Clouds," he blurted out after some struggling. "It's very cloudy."

"Not surprising," commented Mort, "explains the fall, and the 'being a winged pony'"

"Do you know why you fell?" asked Amber Brilliance.

"I, was, hit? No. Not really sure," answered Furyheart.

After a few more questions Amber Brilliance let him stop. They readied one of the vials, and injected it into Furyheart's flank. It stung slightly, and then he felt nothing more.

AB asked him the same questions, but Furyheart could not come up with anything he felt confident in, and soon that test came to a conclusion.

He received another injection. This time it stung less, and he felt nothing. As he returned to his seat however, he felt a wave of anxiety rush over him. His heart pounded and he felt his body light up like a storm. This must be what an agonist feels like. The thought pieced itself together through a mixture of emotions, feelings, and generally unbalanced humors churning around in his stomach.

Without being prompted, Furyheart told what he saw, "I remember you Mortarmer. I remember tackling you to the ground and biting your shoulder. Then you flailing madly and somehow ending up on top choking me. Why did that happen?"

"If I remember correctly, that description doesn't exactly narrow things down," said Mort, "you'll have to be more specific."

"I have attacked you on a regular basis?"

Mort grinned, "Not wholeheartedly, but you do have a very expressive demeanor when you're not trying to keep a low profile."

Furyheart's expression turned remorseful as he spoke again, "This feels truly angry though. I am sorry for whatever I have done."

"What about the fall? Do you remember anything there?" asked Amber Brilliance.

Furyheart struggled and said, "I felt something akin to the feeling I had in the forest right before Mortarmer shot that bolt of unearthly magic. It swelled into me, and then exploded in my face, obscuring the stallion, unicorn I think. Must have been, someone had to have attacked me, must be him. The magical blast threw me backwards as I blacked out from the shockwave."

Mort and Amber Brilliance looked at one another with raised eyebrows. Mort began writing as Amber Brilliance asked, "Aside from this incident do you remember anything else?"

"I remember feeling angry, and tearing through the skies. I burst through a cloud wall and smashed my hoof into a pegasus's face."

Mort looked confused suddenly. "What about the unicorn?" he asked, "How was it standing in the clouds?"

"Must have been magic," suggested Furyheart.

He waited through more questions, steadily losing his ability to really focus on them, or the past, or memories. He had to fly. He had to move. Something was coming after him. Nowhere was safe. He needed to go.

Poisonberry's entrance into the room snapped his attention back to reality. "All work and no play, keeps a mare's success at bay," she said as she unloaded the food she had brought with her.

It smelled delicious. The smell of something oily and burnt that could sit heavily in the stomach for all the lazy hours in the day. The kind of food that got onto one's muzzle no matter how careful they had been. The kind that made one feel disgustingly satisfied. As she opened up the small clay jars the smell became stronger.

It was some mealy substance, mashed up and then fried by the looks of it. Furyheart became aware of two things simultaneously. Firstly, that it had been at least half a day since he had last eaten. Secondly, that he had been drooling heavily since Poisonberry opened the door.

"What... is that?" Furyheart asked hungrily.

"From the earth this does grow, we call it here 'potato'," answered Poisonberry.

"Potato," repeated Furyheart.

AB was looking hungry himself as he spoke, "I think in the interest of science, we should put this on hold. Don't want to be distracted."

They ate in silence, save for the noise of Furyheart hungrily stuffing his face. He finished first and looked over at Amber Brilliance who had barely finished half of his meal. The 'potatoes' had barely taken the edge off of Furyheart's appetite.

"Are you still hungry?" asked Mort through a mouthful of potatoes.

Furyheart nodded.

"Celestia above," remarked AB, "You certainly have an appetite. Have mine if you're still hungry. Breakfast was quite enough to keep me going."

"Thank you," said Furyheart, and he quickly polished off Amber Brilliance's portions as well.

After they had digested a while, Amber Brilliance adjusted himself in his seat and sighed, "Well. I think we should consider resuming." He noticed the hesitant look on Furyheart's face. "Is that alright with you?"

Furyheart replied reluctantly, "Actually. I think I've had about all of the experiment I can handle. I was hardly able to concentrate during the agonist trial, the third one."

AB winced. "Oh well, so much for the double blind experiment," he said with disappointment.

Mort chuckled, "If it's any consolation, none of your peer reviewers will hold it against you."

"What, you mean you and Poisonberry?" Amber Brilliance asked.

"See? The collapse of academia wasn't all bad, now your review process is a lot faster."

"That's hardly comforting."

"Anyway," Furyheart interrupted their banter, "The agonist made me incredibly restless and I would like to go out and do some work if I can, but seeing as part of my staying here relies on me helping you. I don't know if I ought to."

"You can withdraw your participation at any time without fear of repercussions," said Amber Brilliance. The line sounded rehearsed, like he had said it many times in a very prescribed manner. He added, "And with the data we have collected so far I would say we can confirm some of our theories, even if, as always our sample size is low. I will begin writing up a summary of the day's events, and leave you two to your respective business."

"Amber Brilliance, thank you," said Furyheart.

"I feel I ought to be thanking you," Amber Brilliance replied, "You've put yourself under immense stress to help me."

"Heh. Then I guess each of us will owe the other?"

AB laughed, "Indeed we will."

Furyheart exited the hovel into the broken sunlight of the forest, and set about searching for Sunspot.

***

High above the Everfree Forest, in a castle made of clouds, in a terrible and imposing tower wrought from the very fabric of storms, lounged a pure white stallion with a mane that blazed like the sun and flickered like fire. He rested in a gently drifting cloud bed in the throne room of the Tyrant Spire. Lying on his stomach, he occasionally flapped his wings to keep the cloud bed oriented so that he could see his visitor, with whom he was in the middle of a discussion. His horn flared briefly as he played with the fire of the torches on the far side of the room. His cutie mark was simple, four military boots crushing a globe into a square between their soles.

"What I'm saying," he interrupted casually, "Is that there is doubt as to where your loyalties lie. We all know you love our family more than any one member, but it is no secret that you loved our dear cousin very much. So it is not out of the question that your feelings may make you blind to seeing what is best for the family, for the kingdom. Which is why it is in your best interest to prove your loyalties by doing this one small thing."

The pony to whom he spoke was an alicorn like himself, but where he was fairly tall and lean, she was shorter and heartier. She had a deep purple, almost black coat, and her mane held a deep blue. Her cutie mark resembled a heart made of roughly cut blue ice. "This one small thing you speak of is traveling down to the surface with a squad of hunters loyal to you and either A, finding and identifying the body of our best friend, or B in the unlikely event he lives, tracking him to whatever hole he dragged his body into for the express purpose of killing him off, finishing the job started by somepony I have made no secret of holding in great contempt. This one small thing is neither small nor one thing. So yes, I agree that it will exactly prove what kind of loyalty I have regardless of the outcome. Will that be all, Little Boot?"

"No. Remember that while you may hold us in contempt, we are not the ones who committed treason against the crown. Your entire claim to your estate is in jeopardy, there are plenty who would be willing to replace you. Consider whether or not his is a banner worth waving. Now that will be all. Please leave us." Little Boot flopped over onto his side, facing his back to the alicorn. She marched quickly to the edge of the room and dropped out of one of the arches. As the dark mare left, Little Boot was certain that he heard her cursing in a most unladylike fashion.

He looked up at the banners hung about the room, repeating the same phrase "Dominium sub sole; Cum unguis, penna, et mort." Little Boot mused to himself, "You can curse us all you want, but you will not defy us."

***

Princess Veneer woke up, stinking of rotted hay and wood, dirt, and brackish water. She still felt exhausted, so exhausted that it took on a taste, and rolled about her head until it had riled up a healthy throb in her temples. The previous day's events rolled through her mind, as they had continued to do so ever since she had enough peace to think for a moment. She even dreamed of the previous day, a regal looking stallion bursting through a cloud and smiling upon her, giving a ray of love like none she had ever felt. Then suddenly he grew horns and wicked fires enveloped them both. It was the kind of perpetual waking dream that plagues the guilty, the frightened, and the feverish whenever their bodies and minds grudgingly give in to exhaustion.

"This is getting me nowhere," she muttered to herself. Her stomach muttered something back and she looked desperately out over the abandoned farm. No doubt the wholesome ponies who had once lived here would be a filling meal, but they would have the same flat taste of anypony whose love she stole. Damn him! Before that day she had never known how empty her diet could be, but there she sat, dissatisfied by the thought of even a family of quaint, hard working earth ponies.

Princess Veneer's anger finally gave her focus through the competing pain of hunger and fatigue. The unmistakable drumming of drones' wings drew near. Mild panic rose within her. Had they smelled her warm reflection? She needed to keep her feelings in check lest they attract the no doubt starving hunters who had been pursuing her all night.

Not that it would have done her any good. A small swarm of drones landed in the fallow she had been surveying from her vantage point. They immediately fanned out, leaving a trio of watchers to guard the rendezvous.

Veneer quietly ascended into the rafters. She set down on the rotted beams, carefully placing her feet like a spider resting in a web, and waited. A team of drones cautiously picked their way into the barn through the broken doors. Best case scenario, they don't find me. Worst case, they don't taste very good. She watched them, shaking as they poked around the piles of plant matter on the floor of the barn. One of them lifted off the ground. He made his way up to the loft and looked around. There was little debris, making his search more of a cursory glance. Finally he flew up to the rafters, and peered into the darkness, but by the time his eyes adjusted to the dark, Veneer was upon him. He saw a flash of green, and deep within his soul, felt a single resonating word: Obey.

The drones on the ground felt something move in the primal parts of their mind, the instincts coded into them through years of nature culling their ancestors. They shuddered and looked up to the source of the sensation, but saw nothing in the shadows above. They exchanged glances and a pair of them rose away from the rest of the group. Faint traces of heat loomed above them, but no bodies were visible in the darkness. Their comrades watched them disappear into the rafters. Another flash of green lit up the barn briefly, accompanied by a sickening wet noise. After a moment a drone fell from the rafters and landed in the middle of the group, brackish blood covered his horn, mouth, and throat.

Veneer and the second drone she had recruited descended upon the group. Veneer tackled one of her pursuers to the ground and swung her horn around, cleaving through a second's flank as she released tongues of fire into his body. The drone on the ground sprung up and sunk its teeth into a distracted victim. The scuffle did not last long, but the struggle, both internal and external, had left her hold on the drones weak. She elected to crush their minds and left them to fate. She did not relish what she needed to do, but her journey had left her no alternatives. It was not an uncommon practice, especially in new, small, or otherwise struggling hives, for a queen to sustain herself upon the weak of her brood in times of hardship.

Their absence would not go unnoticed. Veneer knew this, and had little idea about how she could get away undetected, especially after using domination magic, its traces would be evident to members of the swarm. It was a great fortune therefore, when three unusually colored changelings approached. She watched them through a hole in the barn, and knew immediately who they were. A trio of expert hunters and fighters, all hatch-mates from the same egg clutch, two males and a female. The female had a deep red carapace, and of the two males, the larger stockier one's carapace was forest green. He was also incredibly muscular, and for some reason holding one of his legs strangely as he flew. As he neared, the reason became apparent; a large gash on his flank, probably from a recent run in with one of the forest's inhabitants. The other male, with a navy blue carapace, flew ahead of the other two, and led them to the group of watchers in the center of the farm.

They landed and trotted up to the other drones -except for green, who kept his wings buzzing to avoid showing a limp. Even at a distance Veneer could see that the encounter started off on the wrong hoof, a very hostile hoof at that. The other search parties were returning, but rather than reforming their swarm, they circled around, assessing the scene as it got more and more heated.

Finally the situation boiled over, and one of the watchers lunged at blue, only to be slammed aside by green's bulky mass. Green slammed his hooves down on the prone figure, beating him mercilessly. The rest of the group seemed to take exception to this, because it was only a short time before they had all joined in, and a battle had begun. Veneer did not wait to see its conclusion, she knew who would win. Three against fifty would hardly be fair, even if one of those three was injured. She made her escape out the back of the barn while the drones covered her exit.

Veneer had no idea where to go, but far from the forest was a safe bet, it could only be so long before she found civilization.

Author's Note

after about a month or more of this being in my drafts, it is published