In Chains

Chapters

Prologue
Arc One - Part One
Arc One - Part Two
Arc One - Part Three
Arc One - Part Four
Arc One - Part Five
Interlude - Diary

Prologue

The train travelled through the night, hidden by the dark clouds that blocked out the moon’s light. The trees of the forest grew wild around the train track, the periodic broken boards indicating that the track had been unused and poorly maintained for quite some time.

The train itself was a black thing, nearly invisible in the darkness. A jet black plume rose from its smokestack, blotting out the sparse few stars that managed to peek out from behind the clouds. It trudged on in the night, uncharacteristically silent for a train.

A bright green light flashed in the air behind the train, propelling a dark figure who soared through the sky. The light would flare up every few seconds, bright enough to blind anypony who may have witnessed it, keeping pace with the train. A few quick blasts later, the figure caught up with the speeding mass of metal.

Without warning, the dark figure flared up with a crimson glow, and a spear of red light lanced out from it, impacting the tail end of the train’s caboose. It ignited, an eye-burning explosion of flame ripping out from the caboose, which rocked with the impact.

Someone on board disconnected the flaming caboose from the rest of the train, and it started to fall behind. The dark figure landed on it, the fire illuminating it, unconcerned about the tongues of flame licking at it.

Those on the train would later describe her as a devil, a dark creature of anger and vengeance and wrath. They would say her eyes pierced their very souls, judging them, laying their true selves bare for the devil to see. Her white coat, they said, was at odds with the darkness of her heart, and her black, ponytailed mane a void of darkness.

Some of these ponies managed to break free of the paralysis of fear and flee before the next blast hit the train car, rendering the metal apart and obliterating all who remained. The car lurched into the air before crashing into the dirt.

The derailed car pulled the rest of the train off the track and onto its side, the individual train cars piling up. The burning mare jumped off of the caboose just before it collided with the rest of the train, further demolishing the machine. She deftly landed on the ground beside the tracks, a few meters from the engine. She stood on her hind legs, an odd and awkward stance for her equine shape, only working to make her look more unnatural.

She watched as a single being extricated himself from the wreckage of the train. He stood up on four shaky legs, his brown eyes seething with rage as he looked at the mare in front of him. His long, wild black hair waved in the wind created by the inferno behind him, his black stripes contrasting strongly with his white fur.

To the zebra, the mare wasn’t nearly as demonic in appearance as his underlings had thought. Their minds had been clouded by fear, yet his was filled with only rage, and he saw the world around him crystal clear.

The two stood there for a few moments, sharing no words. Nothing needed to be said. They knew each other well, and both knew what would come next. It was only a matter of who would make the first move.

The zebra moved first, a brown staff materializing in front of him. He jumped forward and grabbed it with his forelegs, taking up the traditional zebra fighting stance that the mare he now fought had already assumed.

He lunged at her. His staff swung in a wide arc.

She sprung forward, rolling underneath the strike, and released a powerful buck from her hind legs as her forelegs hit the dirt. The buck impacted with the zebra’s back.

The zebra was sent rocketing into a tree, but he managed to right himself in midair and hit the tree with his legs, jumping off and towards the mare once more. He swung his staff again, and the mare rolled underneath it once more.

What the zebra lacked in raw power, he more than made up for in skill. He turned quickly and aimed the point of the staff at the mare. The tip fired off with a loud bang and flew towards her.

It hit the mare in the back of the head and she stumbled before she could release her second buck. The projectile was pulled back onto the staff by the chain that was attached to one end, and the staff was whole once more.

The zebra took advantage of the mare’s stumble. He hit her with strike after strike of his staff, pummeling her into the ground. Dirt flew up from the site of impact as she was hammered into the earth, forming a crater.

The mare wasn’t out of the fight yet. A flash of green light exploded outward from the crater, knocking the zebra off his hooves and sending him flying into the sky. The mare quickly followed, a blur of white against the blackness of the night as she flew up into the air from a powerful jump.

She caught the zebra as he started to fall. Green energy gathered at her hooves and was released, impacting with his chest and sending him flying into what remained of the derailed train, too quickly to be visible. The train jerked as he tore through it, his body making a rut in the ground as he exploded out of the other side.

The zebra shakily lifted his hoof from the crater as the mare landed beside it. He looked up at her as she approached him, unable to attack or defend himself. He spat in her direction.

“Devil,” he hissed. She picked up one half of his broken staff, which sat by his side. She examined the spiked, splintered, broken edge before glancing at him pointedly.

She plunged the staff into his torso, a spray of blood misting the air above them. The staff completely penetrated his body and pinned him to the ground below.

She fled, jumping into the sky and launching herself forward with a blast of green light.

Arc One - Part One

I saw her from across the room. She was sitting at a round table, an empty champagne glass on the table in front of her. Paradoxically, her lack of a gaudy costume made her more noticeable in the crowd- at this place, flamboyance was the norm.

Her mane was black and pulled back in a ponytail. Her coat was as white as snow. Her eyes were grey, yet not dull. They seemed to be bright in their own way as she looked around with an inquisitive eye.

I moved across the room to get closer to her, avoiding costumed ponies and griffons, trying not to bump into any oversized swords or bat-wings. When I reached her, I sat down on the empty chair to her right.

She looked at me, and I could immediately tell she wasn’t happy to have company.

“Are you enjoying the party?” I asked her, ignoring her scowl.

“No.”

That was blunt. I was starting to get the impression that she wouldn’t play along with my attempts at conversation, but she was pretty, so I pressed on.

“Oh? Why not, if I might ask? I’m sure the organizers put a lot of work into it. I, for one, am enjoying the champagne!” I laughed. She didn’t respond with anything more than another glare. My laughing stopped as I got the distinct impression that she would hurt me if I didn’t leave.

And at a place like this, it wasn’t impossible. It may even have been likely.

I quickly got up and went to visit some other area of the ballroom. My coat stood up on end as I felt her watching me leave. What a strange mare.

I surveyed the room and looked at all the ponies in costume. Some were clad in functional-looking armour, while others—my favourites—wore skintight suits that pulled tight against the curves of their bodies. Nice.

My name is Cutlass, by the way. Kind of boring, and it fit me in that strange way names seem to fit ponies. I made swords, you see. A blacksmith of sorts. A rare trade, in this day and age—especially for a unicorn—but with all the heroes running around, there’s always somepony out there who wants a sword to fit with whatever theme they’d taken on for themselves. Which was silly, I thought, considering they all worked in secret. Who would even see their fancy costumes?

Speaking of heroes, the party I was attending was the annual heroes’ bash, hosted by none other than Bleeding Heart. I’d never met the guy, but he was a hero himself, in a way. He didn’t have any powers or a colourful costume, but he did fund and help the heroes in any way he could. I heard rumours he even ran some sort of training facility for them or something. I wouldn’t know- I’m not in the know.

I wasn’t a hero. I have the powers—the only reason I had been let in the party in the first place—but I didn’t actually do anything with them, other than occasionally make my job easier at my forge. It just isn’t a power that lends itself easily to stopping crime or anything like that.

I made my way through the crowd of ponies, griffons, and diamond dogs, feeling self conscious in my dress. I wasn’t wearing a costume like the rest- as I said, not a hero. The black dress I wore was vastly different to the costumes everypony else wore. The only thing I wore that hinted people at what I was and what I could do was a little chain I wore as a belt. If I weren’t wearing that, nopony would recognize me as the mare who made all their weapons and armour.

A little ways away I saw a brown earth pony stallion in a black domino mask. He was wearing a black, flat-brimmed sombrero on his golden mane, and a black cape over his back. A silver rapier hung from a belt around his hips. I recognized it- I had made it for him three months ago. In the guard of the rapier, hidden from anypony not in the know, was a firing mechanism for pistol rounds.

His hero alias was Dupe, but I just called him Goldy. His real name was Gold Smith, and he was my brother and the only reason I came to this party. Well, that and networking. It’s not like you could advertise ‘superhero weapons for sale’ on the radio or store windows.

He stopped talking to the armoured pony in front him—armour made by me, of course—and looked at me as I neared. “Hey, Cutlass. Are you enjoying the party?”

No. Everypony was too busy socializing with the big-name heroes to talk to me, and I felt out of place among all the powerful ponies.

“Yep!” I lied. “I’m having a grand ol’ time.”

He smiled a knowing smile. “No you’re not,” he responded. He placed his hoof on the shoulder of the armoured pony in front of him. “You remember Pauldron, don’t you?

I nodded. “It’s good to see you again,” I said to the armoured pony, holding my hoof out for him. He shook it.

It wasn’t good to see him again. The last time I saw him, we had gotten into an argument over whether or not I should add gold trim to the his armour. He had said he wanted to be as dull as possible, so his enemies underestimate him. I said that was stupid and that I wouldn’t let him walk out of my forge wearing an ugly piece of armour. That would reflect horribly on me.

His dull, matte grey, fully-encasing armour was testament to who won that argument.

“It is a pleasure to see you once again, young Cutlass,” he greeted me, his voice gruff and deep. He was so full of shit. “You’re looking lovely tonight. The most beautiful mare in the room!”

Well, I was the one of two ponies in the room who wasn’t wearing a face-concealing mask, so it really wasn’t that difficult. Maybe if he saw the white mare I had tried speaking to, he’d be singing a different tune.

“You’re looking drab, as usual.”

He laughed, a rich, hearty laugh. “Are you still upset about that, young lady?” he asked between guffaws. “I’m terribly sorry for the trouble that day, but you must understand. Not giving me decorated armour is merely a detriment for your business- giving me decorated armour is a detriment to my very life. I aim to give the appearance of a new, unpracticed hero who cannot get his hooves on such things.”

I’d never really thought of it like that. It was a valid point. I was still pissed.

“Uh huh. Well, how’s the hero business going? I see your armour’s taken quite a beating lately,” I pointed at a large gash on Pauldron’s helmet. “If you really want to give off the ‘newbie hero’ vibe, I suggest getting rid of the evidence of your recent battles.”

I could imagine his ears reddening underneath his helmet. He shuffled his hooves, detracting from the ‘regal knight’ image he was trying to attain. “I, er, was afraid if I brought it to you for repairs, you’d add gold trim,” he admitted.

I rolled my eyes. “You walking around in broken armour shines even worse on me than letting you walk around undecorated does. Bring it by my forge. I’ll fix it and won’t add anything fancy.”

He looked down.

“I promise,” I added with a wink.

Pauldron nodded. “I will come by tomorrow afternoon.”

“So, Cutlass,” Goldy started, “I was just talking to Pauldron about all the robberies lately.”

This was news to me. “Robberies? Is something going on?” I asked.

Goldy nodded. “We’re not sure what’s going on, and ponies are avoiding talking about it, but there’ve been more and more super-powered criminals coming out of the woodwork lately.”

Hm. “This is interesting, but why are you telling me?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just saying, a lot of heroes are needed to keep them at bay.”

And there it was. Once again, my loving older brother was trying to convince me to risk my life for the greater good.

“I’m not a hero, Go- Dupe. I’m not cut out for that, and I don’t want to be.”

He raised his hooves, feigning innocence, but quickly put them back down when he started to fall. “I didn’t say you should,” he defended himself. “If you did, it would be really helpful, and you’d like, save lives and stuff. But if you’d rather not, that’d be cool too.”

Pauldron coughed, grabbing our attention before I could respond. “Whether or not you wish to join the fight in a more direct manner is up to you. However, if you choose not to, which you most likely will, I suggest making sure the heroes you equip are the most combat-ready as they can be.”

“I always do my best,” I argued, slightly offended.

“I know that, miss Cutlass. Your unwillingness to let me go with less-than-perfect armour has proven that to me. I am merely saying that it is of the utmost importance for you to continue doing your best.”

I sighed. Stupid, reasonable Pauldron!

“Alright, I will. Promise. Now, I’m going to go grab something to eat. Don’t forget to stop by tomorrow with your armour.”

He nodded.

“If you don’t, I’ll find you. And I will hurt you. I know all of your armour’s weaknesses.”

I turned and started walking towards one of the long table that were covered in snacks. I heard him laugh as I left, then abruptly stop.

“Wait, weaknesses? Does it have weaknesses? Hey, Cutlass, wait!”

The snack table was long and covered in a white tablecloth, which in turn was covered with dozens of plates and bowls filled to the brim with food. The particular table I found was covered in all sorts of pastries, candies, and desserts, as well a crystal bowl full of punch. I looked over my options- which I had a lot of. Most ponies were wearing masks that covered their mouths. Hah.

I used my magic to load a plate up with danishes, eclairs, and other goodies, making a sizable dent in the dessert stocks. Don’t judge me, it’s not like anypony else was eating them.

I started to think about what Goldy had told me. A bunch of new villains appearing in the same short span of time? It was an odd occurrence, to say the least. Most ponies who were born with powers simply lived their lives normally, ignoring them, and a good portion of the remainder became heroes. Very few thought it was worthwhile to try to become a villain.

I had read a news article a few days before about a recent string of arsons here in Canterlot. Was that caused by one of the new villains? It was a worrying thought. Most villains did their best to keep themselves out of the prying eyes of the public, going so far as to stop a fight with a hero if it looked like innocents would get involved. A code of honour was involved in that sort of life.

If a new villain or two had popped up that didn’t operate under that code of honour, it could mean bad news for the rest of us. For hundreds of years, us super-powered beings have been keeping the uninitiated in the dark about us. If they knew of the kind of power some of us held, they could panic and do something stupid. It’s always been that way.

Well, we think it was. Because of the secretive nature of us powered folk, it was difficult to figure out when people first started being born with powers. Some of the oldest powered families were only able to trace their history of special abilities back a few hundred years. The oldest was able to trace it back six hundred years- bringing us to around the same time as the crowning of the newest princess, Princess Twilight Sparkle. Some scholars believed her ascension to being an Alicorn was actually just her latent powers manifesting in a dramatic fashion, but most ponies just assumed it was coincidence that powers started manifesting about that time. It was a mystery for smarter ponies than me to figure out.

The sharp sound of a fork being tapped against a glass snapped me out of my thoughts and quieted the room. I looked up to the top of the grand staircase that dominated one side of the room to see Bleeding Heart standing there with his wife, holding a champagne glass in his red magical aura.

Bleeding Heart wasn’t super-powered. Neither was his wife. Yet, for some reason, he was involved. Nopony really questioned it- after all, he threw us heroes a party every year, and helped get fledgling heroes started with funding and professional costumes. There were rumours going around that his son had powers, though he didn’t confirm them. That would explain how he knew of us.

“Welcome, all,” he announced to the crowd. “Welcome to my home! As you all know, I hold a party annually for the heroes of Canterlot as a means of showing thanks to you all for doing what you do.”

There was a cheer and some hoof-stomping from the crowd. Bleeding Heart raised a hoof for silence, and continued.

“Now, we have two very special ponies in the crowd tonight. One is a talented young mare who I feel doesn’t get quite the recognition she deserves. She works tirelessly to equip all of you with weapons and armour to help hold back the tide of evil.”

Uh oh.

“Most of you know her, I suspect. Ah, there she is! Miss Cutlass, everypony!”

There was a round of hoof-stomps and hollering as Bleeding Heart pointed to me. I shrank back, embarrassed. The light grey of my cheeks became red as I blushed furiously. I managed a little wave to the crowd before.

“Now, I did say there were two special ponies here tonight. The second is a remarkable young mare, much like miss Cutlass.”

The crowd quieted down from its applause.

“You’re all aware of the dangers of the Everfree Forest. In recent years, the population and strength of the monsters there has been steadily rising, and villains have been using it as a place to make their headquarters and rest. As such, it’s a dangerous place, and those dangers have been seeping out into nearby Ponyville and other such settlements.”

The mood in the room became a somber one. The subject of the Everfree was dark and depressing, and not the kind of thing one wanted to think about during a party.

“Fear not, for I will stop speaking of horrible things. The mare I am about to introduce has been, for the last three months, working tirelessly to clear the Everfree of monsters and villains, stopping that evil from harming the nearby villages and making the world a safer place. She has been fighting, on her own, for freedom from these monstrosities.

“Her name is Virtue. Please, give her a warm welcome!”

He stepped aside. The beautiful white mare from earlier stepped forward from behind him and gave a little bow. I gasped in surprise. That mare was a hero?!

She didn’t say anything- no speech, no thank you’s as the ponies below applauded her. She simply stepped back from the crowd once more. Her eyes fell on me for a fraction of a second before she left the spotlight.

“Alright, now, before I let you return to you party,” Bleeding Heart said, “I’d like to say one more thing.”

The crowd quieted down once more.

“The forces of evil are massing like never before. I am not a hero; I can only provide my money and my gratitude to those who defend us. Because of this, I urge you, no, I implore you to continue fighting. Do not settle for merely defeating evil- destroy it. Do not send it running, only to return at a later date, stop it once and for all. Then, and only then, can our civilization be reborn into the light.”

The crowd was silent. Bleeding Heart made the same speech every year, yet it resonated with them all the same.

Earlier I mentioned that most ponies with powers didn’t do anything with them. They simply continued living their lives as though they weren’t able to do extraordinary things.

Most, if not all, of the heroes in the room had a reason to fight, to ignore the temptations of a normal life without the pressure or pain of being a hero. They had all lost something- a loved one, a friend, or themselves to evil and desired to make it right.

Bleeding Heart finished up his speech. “Now, do return to the party. I hope you all have a wonderful night.”

The crowd broke apart, still silent, but the usual background noise of a party soon built up once more as ponies started conversations with each other.

I realized I was still holding my plate of desserts in my magic. I had been singled out during the host’s address, and everypony could see how much I planned to eat. Wonderful.

I resolved to go on a diet once this was over. I wanted to still fit in this dress for next year’s party.

As I made my way through the crowds, I listened to their conversations. Most seemed to be talking about the mysterious mare who worked to clean up the Everfree, Virtue. Surprisingly, quite a few seemed to be talking about me. I listened in to one such conversation.

“...made me my hammer,” a griffon wearing brown leather armour was saying, holding out the hammer in question towards a young mare in a ski mask. I recognized it- it was a medium-sized hammer. I had designed it so he could swing it with one hand and hold his small shield in the other. On the hammer itself, two shotguns were installed, one on the front part of the bashing end and one on the back part.

“It’s really amazing. If I want some extra power in my swing I can just fire the shotgun and let that propel it, or I could just hit something with the hammer and shoot them for extra damage. That mare’s a genius.”

I beamed with pride.

“The shield’s nothing special, though.”

I scowled. He didn’t like my flame-proof, water-proof, magic-proof, shatter-proof shield? Bastard.

The conversations that weren’t about me were about Virtue. Most ponies wondered who she was, where she had come from. Some wondered why she wasn’t wearing a costume, and everyone was wondering why she would even step foot near the Everfree, let alone fight what lurked within.

I was wondering if she was single. Curse my one-track mind!

I felt a touch to my withers and turned to see a large diamond dog. He was looking down at me with bright, blue eyes. He wore a white bodysuit with a hole for the tail, complete with a hood and flowing white cape.

“Miss Cutlass?” he asked. I nodded with a smile. Something about the diamond dog put me at ease.

“You make stuff? Weapons?” he asked.

“I sure do! Would you like me to make you something?”

The diamond dog grinned. “Yes! Me want spear. Spear needs to be very strong. You can do?”

We set up a meeting for the following day so he could tell me what exactly he wanted.

“Me Frostbite, by the way. Get it? Frostbite?” He bit the air and laughed. I couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“It’s good to meet you, Frostbite,” I tell him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before, and I’m the mare who knows all the heroes in this city. What brings you to Canterlot?”

“Me get powers, want to become great hero,” he explained to me. “No crime in diamond dog mines, move to Canterlot. Save the day!”

His enthusiasm was contagious. “I’m sure you’ll make a great hero, Frostbite.”

“What about you?”

I cocked my head at the question. “What about me?” I asked.

“Me mean, why you make stuff for heroes?” he clarified. “How you know about heroes at all?”

“Well,” I started, nudging him towards the dessert table while we talked to fill up my now-empty plate. Don’t judge me. Forging things all day takes a lot of energy. “My family has a long history of heroics, you know? I grew up with tales of superheroes and villains. My brother always wanted to be a hero like the ones in the stories and our parents, but I didn’t. It didn’t really appeal to me. When our parents died, it spurred my brother into being a hero. He wanted to take up the mantle, get revenge for our parents, all that stuff. It only made me want to be a hero less, after seeing how dangerous it was. How easy it was to die.”

I glanced at the chain I used as a belt. “Even now, I bring a weapon with me everywhere I go. I’m not a hero, and I’ve never been in a fight. But I feel like I need it.” I shrugged. “I guess I’m just too scared to be a hero.”

“Most ponies not brave enough to admit they’re scared,” Frostbite commented.

I laughed and grabbed his arm with a hoof. “Since you’re new to Canterlot, come with me! There’s something I want to show you.”

I dragged him along behind me and made my way to the large mansion’s balcony.While the wording is meh, the concept is good - the heroes becoming more and more similar to the villains. You could nail the point a bit more, though.

This is ridiculous.

This is even more ridiculous, but at least funny. I don't know if you intended it.

She seems, to phrase it well, pesky. While it counts as a flaw, it's rather childish, and in an annoying, not funny way.

Arc One - Part Two

The balcony was a massive thing. It was probably large enough to play host to another, albeit smaller, party. The moon was high in the sky, shining its light down on the city of Canterlot. It was a beautiful full moon.

The city itself had changed a lot over the last few years. The Canterlot I had grown up in was bright, full of beautiful buildings, and overall, happy. A little uptight, perhaps, but you couldn’t deny that the city was one of wealth and opportunity for all.

Everything was different now. The city center was mostly the same, but everywhere not within a few kilometers of the palace was suffering. One out of five buildings were boarded up. Crime ran rampant- powered and non-powered crime alike. Graffiti was painted on buildings and litter piled up in the gutters.

It was a shadow of what it once was. The princesses were doing everything they could to revive the once-great city they had called home, but it was an impossible task- they didn’t even know the cause of the decline. Nopony did.

Except us. We knew that the cause of the decline was the villain activity in the city. The regular ponies knew something, too. They didn’t know of the existence of the villains, but they could feel something was wrong, and that feeling was what caused ponies by the hundreds to move out of the city. With less ponies to work and live there, the local economy suffered and rougher breed of pony moved in, taking advantage of the low property rates. Non-powered crime ran rampant.

How could the princesses fix the problem? They didn’t even know of the existence of powers. It was up to the heroes to fix the problem, and that wasn’t very likely.

Villains were tough. Anyone who had powers that weren’t all that good would never risk a life of crime. That would involve tangling with the heroes on a regular basis. Only the strongest ponies attempted a life of crime. That left the mid- to low-tier powered ponies to become heroes.

Nopony liked to talk about it, but the war the heroes fought was one they were losing.

Frostbite walked up to the balcony railing and leaned on it, looking out at the city. “It is nice city,” he said, “but stories make it seem... grander.”

I nodded, looking down. “Yeah.”

A lot of people think diamond dogs are stupid, but that’s not the case. They simply don’t have the best grasp of pony languages. Frostbite took one look at me, remembering the beautiful past of the city I grew up in, and decided not to comment on the city’s ragged state any more.

He changed the subject. “This what you wanted to show me?” he asked.

I shook my head, pushing thoughts of the city’s decline to the back of my head. Those thoughts could wait until another time. “This way!” I said, pulling on his arm again.

I dragged him to the wall beside the door that lead back into the party, where a tangle of vines climbed up the wall. “Go on, climb up!” I prompted him, poking his back with my horn.

He grabbed onto the vines with a paw and pulled himself up a bit. He stopped climbing to look down at me.

“What about you?” he asked, glancing at my hooves. “Pony feet not good for climbing.”

He was right, of course, but I had a few tricks up my sleeves. I concentrated for a moment, and the chain around my hips unclipped itself and floated into the air. Frostbite stared at it, then at my horn, which lacked a magical aura.

“You have powers?” he asked me. I nodded. He smiled.

“Miss Cutlass is full of surprises.”

I sent the chain to the vines, wrapped it around a cluster, and wrapped the other end around my hoof. I climbed that way, detaching the end from the vines as I moved up, using it in place of fingers.

My power may not have been useful in a fight, but they weren’t completely useless. I have powerful, non-magical telekinesis. The downside? It only works on chains.

A bit specific, sure, but we don’t really have a choice what we get stuck with. Everypony that had powers was born with the potential for powers, which only manifest in certain situations. The power you get is related to whatever it was that happened to you to cause them to manifest. In my case, I got stuck in a chain while working on a weapon for a hero. It was designed to attach the bludgeoning part of a mace with the handle- with a little bonus. The mace could be fired with the speed of a cannonball and pulled back towards the handle again- but during testing, I had gotten caught in the chain as it retracted. It had nearly suffocated me, until my power manifested and snapped the chain.

I made it up to the roof of the mansion, where Frostbite was already sitting, staring out into the distance. I sat down beside him and looked out where he was staring.

The view from here was wonderful. The mansion was situated in a higher part of the city than most, and you could see for kilometers in the distance. The Whitetail Woods, Ponyville, and the Everfree Forest were all visible.

“It is beautiful...” Frostbite said, under his breath.

I smiled. I reacted the same way the first time I snuck up here and discovered the beautiful scenery.

“A lot of ponies think the world’s going to Tartarus. When the state of the city gets me down, I like to sneak up here and take in the sights. It reminds me of what we have to fight for.”

I shivered in the cold night air, and Frostbite draped his heavy cape over me like a blanket. I leaned into him for warmth, but he didn’t seem to mind. If he did, he didn’t say anything.

We stayed like that for a few minutes. After a while, though, I felt his body tense.

“Do you see that?” he asked me, pointing out into the mansion’s courtyard.

I looked down towards where he was pointing, straining my eyes. It was too dark for me to make anything out.

“See what?”

“Ponies sneaking around!”

I saw them. Three ponies, each walking across the mansion’s lawn and towards the building itself. I couldn’t make out specific details, but I could tell that one was at least fifty percent larger than the other two. None wore costumes.

“Shit, this could be bad,” I hissed, standing up quickly. “We have to tell somepony about this!”

Frostbite nodded and leaped up. Without warning, he scooped me up and held me under his arm.

“What are you do- aaahhh!”

I screamed as he jumped down from the roof, landing gracefully on the balcony. He put me down.

I wobbled forward, my legs shaking from the shock of my sudden flight through the air. Frostbite rushed on ahead and back into the party.

I regained my senses and followed him, looking around the party for anypony I knew. I noticed a hero I recognized- Hydra, a mare wearing an orange, scaled bodysuit that made her resemble her namesake monster.

I went over to her and tapped her on the back to get her attention. She turned and glared at me. Ever since I told her I was unable to enchant her outfit to give it self-repair qualities, she had disliked me. I didn’t like her much, either, but I knew she was a responsible mare. She was a veteran hero. She’d hear me out.

“There are three ponies sneaking up to the mansion. They’re not wearing costumes,” I told her, summarizing what Frostbite and I had seen.

All trace of hostility disappeared from her face. “Thank you,” she said. “Go somewhere safe. We’ll see what’s going on.”

She ran off towards the stairs with the ponies she had been speaking with, and I decided to take her advice. I made my way towards the front hallway, intent on leaving the party.

I heard Hydra speak up from the top of the stairs, her voice raised.

“Everypony! There are three possible hostiles making their way towards the party. We don’t know who they are, so be prepared for anything! If they are non-powered, this is simply a masquerade party. If they are villains, be ready to fight!”

I made it to the front hallway.

“It’s possible they are normal thieves, taking advantage of the party to sneak in and rob the place. If they are, let them. It’s not worth the risk to attempt to st-”

I didn’t catch the rest of her announcement. The front door of the mansion detonated, exploding inwards and sending me flying down the hallway. I skidded across the floor and slammed into the adjacent wall.

My everything hurt, and I just sat there, not bothering to try to get up. I felt blood pool up underneath me, and in my confusion I wondered who it belonged to. Had I landed on someone? It took me a second to realize it was mine.

Three ponies walked through the dust cloud that hung in the air where the door once was. On the edge of my vision, I could see heroes running towards us from the party area.

“Good job with the grand entrance,” said one of the new ponies with a grin. She was a mare, and she was shiny. Very, very shiny. I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating from the pain, but her entire body was silver, including her eyes, which held no pupils, and she shined in the light.

The brown stallion beside her grinned and brushed his long, green mane out of his eyes, exposing a unicorn horn. “I’ve been practicing.”

Behind them stood the largest pony I had ever seen. He was easily twice the size of each of the others. he had an orange coat, no mane or tail, and green eyes. I watched as thousands of orange spikes grew out of every inch of his body.

The three moved into the ballroom, ignoring me.

I struggled to stand. When my legs proved unable to get me up, I used my power on the chain around my hips to get me into a standing position. I leaned against the wall for support.

I examined myself, looking over the damage I had sustained with an eerie calm. I think I was in shock, or maybe I just had brain damage from the blast and subsequent crash into the wall.

My right foreleg was broken in two places, bone jutting out of the skin. The rest of me was just one giant bruise. I didn’t have high hopes for the future of my leg.

I struggled to move towards the ballroom with only three legs. I knew it would be wiser to escape, but my brother was in there. He could handle himself, I knew, but I needed to make sure. If I had escaped and later heard he had died, I don’t know if I could carry on.

It would be my third loved one to die in a fight with villains.

The ballroom was destroyed, the battle still raging. The walls were full of destroyed portions- some areas burned, others frozen, and some merely hit very hard. Tables had been overturned and used as makeshift barriers. Ponies in costume littered the floor like discarded trash, some dead and still, some writhing in pain. I recognized some. I had liked some.

Rockwall’s body lay on the ground, still and silent. In life, she had been a beautiful hero, one who did everything she could to help others. I had always admired her grace. She was lying crumpled on the floor now, her back bent at an unnatural angle as blood poured out of her mouth. There was nothing beautiful about her now.

In the center of the room was where most of the action was happening. Heroes were falling in droves. In the center of it all, the three intruders were wreaking havoc.

The silver mare was floating in the air, forelegs outstretched. A tornado of metal shards whirled around her, carving up the flesh of anypony who ventured too near.

The brown stallion was jumping around, landing with massive crash each time. His jumps formed small craters when he took off and landed. He occasionally landed on a hero, pulverizing them into unrecognizable blood and gore.

The large one was now a pony-shaped mass of spikes. With every swing of his head and legs, heroes were sent flying through the air, full of holes.

I searched for Goldy in the chaos, and found him engaging with the brown intruder, the deft movements of his rapier deflecting his enemy’s blows. He wasn’t fast enough, however, and the brown stallion landed a powerful punch to my brother’s chest.

He shattered like glass, and the brown stallion stood there, confused, for just a moment.

It was a moment too long. While the stallion stood over the shattered remains of my brother’s duplicate, the real Dupe lunged at him from behind, his rapier stabbing through the enemy’s back and all the way through.

The brown stallion hardly even flinched when my brother released every chambered round into him. He grabbed the rapier blade where it protruded out of his chest and shattered it.

A buck backwards sent my brother flying through the balcony doors.

I hobbled forwards, ignoring the pain in my broken leg. The only thing on my mind was the thought of getting my brother out of this battle and to a hospitaI. I went straight through the battling crowd of heroes and villains, and was fortunate enough to come out the other end unscathed. Well, as unscathed as I was before I went in, at least.

I stumbled and fell through the double-doors leading to the balcony, finding myself in the cool night air once more. The sounds of the battle behind me were muffled and faint. I could almost pretend that the screaming was coming from a television somewhere.

I found my brother lying on his back, bleeding. Panicking, I put my ear to his chest and listened. His heart was still beating. He was still breathing.

I tried to lift him with my magic, but it was no use. I was too tired. With the fear for my brother’s safety diminished, the realization of what was happening seeped into my mind.

“Oh my Celestia...” I repeated to myself, over and over. “What the buck is happening?”

I leaned forward and tried to slide my brother onto my back. It was difficult with my broken leg, but I managed to get him settled. Shaky, tired, and hurting, I began the slow trot towards the end of the balcony, planning to loop my chain around him and lower him down to the ground with my power.

A being crashed through the wall, skidding to a stop in front of me along with a pile of debris. I covered my face with my ruined leg.

Pauldron shakily stood up from the pile. His armour was in relatively decent shape considering the heavy hitters he had been fighting, but I could tell by the way he moved that he wasn’t doing as well as his armour was. Still, he was handling things better than I was.

He noticed me and rushed towards me. “Cutlass, are you alright?” he asked. I started to nod, but decided now wasn’t the time for pride. I shook my head.

He noticed my mangled leg. “By Celestia, that’s bad!”

I nodded in agreement.

“You’ll never make it out of here like that. Let me carry you to safety,” he offered, ever the gentlecolt.

I shook my head again, but managed to speak a few words.

“No... my brother needs help...” I stammered out.

“Your brother knew what he was getting in to. He knew the risks. Please, Cutlass, let me help you.”

My chain flew up to his neck and tightened around it. I hadn’t expected it to do any harm, but to both our surprise it began crushing the metal underneath it. “Don’t you dare speak about my brother like that!” I shouted at him, emotion overwhelming my common sense. “He’s not expendable!”

Pauldron gurgled something in reply.

I loosened the chain.

“Al- alright,” he gasped. “I’ll take him.”

I moved next to him and transferred Goldy onto his back.

“Be careful,” he warned. “Get out of here.”

Then he left, jumping down off the balcony and galloping towards the city.

I heard somepony stomping their hooves behind me. I turned to look, my chain floating into the air, a makeshift yet completely ineffective weapon.

“Bravo,” congratulated Virtue, her voice low. “You truly are remarkable.”

“Why didn’t you help?!” I shouted at her.

She smirked. “That would be counterproductive.”

There was a flash of green light that blinded me for a moment. When I could see again, she was standing on her hind legs beside me.

“I’m sorry, Cutlass,” she said, her voice menacing. “I can’t let you leave this party.”

Her forelegs wrapped around my throat and I struggled for breath. “If it’s any consolation, I really do admire you,” she whispered into my ear and she held my throat. “You’re a good pony.”

Blackness encroached on my vision as she strangled me. With my face angled towards the chaos in the ballroom, the last thing I saw before I blacked out was Frostbite being torn apart by the silver mare’s shards of metal.

Why did this have to happen?

Arc One - Part Three

I shifted in my chair as my mother poured me a cup of tea. “It’s so good to see you again, dear. It feels like it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to catch up.”

I smiled as I brought the tea cup up to my lips. I took a sip and placed the cup down once more. Mom made the best tea.

“Yeah, it has been a while, hasn’t it? It’s my fault; I’ve been so busy lately.”

She shrugged, a small smile adorning her face. “I’m just happy to see you again.”

We were in my mother’s kitchen, in her Canterlot home. The home I grew up in. The bright yellow wallpaper—while still ugly—was a pleasant sight that made me feel nostalgic. I made myself a mental note to visit my parents more often.

Mom placed a plate of cookies in front of me, and I pounced on them with gusto. Mom made a small growling noise, and I slowed down. She hated when I ate too quickly. She said it was because I could choke, but I knew it was just because she thought it made me look unladylike. Mom was traditional like that.

“How’s your brother doing?” she asked me between sips of her tea. “He calls me even less often than you visit.”

“He’s in the hos...” I stopped, my answer caught in my throat. A sense of dread overcame me as I contemplated what I was about to say. Where had that come from? Goldy was just fine. Why would I say he was in the hospital?

“He’s fine,” was my belated answer. “I haven’t spoken to him in a little while, though.”

She hummed. “What about your friends? How are they?”

I paused. “They could be doing better. For example, they could start existing. That would be cool.”

My mom looked down at the table.

“It’s just that I don’t really have time to make friends, what with work and all,” I added when I saw her crestfallen face. I hated seeing mom upset.

“Or course, dear.”

I finished my tea, put the cup down, and stood, moving over to my mother’s side. I nuzzled her neck.

“Thanks for caring, though.”

She smiled. I went back to my seat and we sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company. Mom wasn’t much of a talker.

After a few more minutes, she spoke up.

“Did you hear about what happened at that nice Mr. Heart’s place?”

I cocked my head to the side. “Bleeding Heart? Did something happen?” I asked. I couldn’t keep a twinge of worry from showing itself in my voice.

My mother noticed. “Do you know him?”

Something was wrong. Mom knew that I knew Bleeding Heart. We had met him together, four years ago.

The sense of dread returned, stronger than before.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Did you hear about the fire?” she asked me. “It’s been on the news all morning.”

The party. I remembered the party last night. Did something happen?

The attack. Some villains had attacked the party. Goldy had been hurt, and I tried to get him to safety. It had hurt, but I didn’t care, because my brother had needed me. I couldn’t lose another like I lost my-

Like I lost my parents.

I bolted up out of my chair. “You’re dead!”

The mare who looked like my mother looked taken aback. “Dear, what are you saying? I’m right here. Sit down, let me get you another cup of-”

“No! You’re dead! We buried you!”

The mare’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and she spoke in a voice that wasn’t hers.

“We had hoped to do this subtly, but it seems like that is out of the question. Awaken, Cutlass.”

The world faded to black.

For the longest time, an electronic beeping was the only thing I could hear, its tempo matched by the beating of my heart. It took me a while to recognize it as a heart monitor. My eyes fluttered open, the bright light burning at my retinas.

My thoughts were cloudy, and I felt strange. Light-headed. The white-tiled ceiling above me was the only thing I could see.

I looked around the room I found myself in. I was lying down on a white cot, electrodes attached to my chest, their wires leading back to the heart monitor which produced the beeping I had heard. There was a door in the wall to my right, and a window covered with curtains to my left. An IV drip was poked into my foreleg, which was completely healed, except for the areas of pink skin where the fur hadn’t grown back. How long had I been here?

I tore out the IV drip and removed the electrodes. My legs struggled to hold me up as I rolled off of the cot, but they held underneath my weight.

I limped towards the door and grabbed the handle with my magic. It refused to turn.

I was locked in?

I struggled with the door for a bit, but gave up after a few moments. With a grunt of frustration, I hobbled towards the window and opened the curtain. Bars covered the glass.

I was locked in.

What kind of hospital locks in its patients? I hobbled back to the door as fast as I could and pounded on it, shouting. “Hey! Somepony get me out of here!”

Nopony answered my screams. Half an hour later, I gave up on it, my voice hoarse. If whoever was holding me prisoner wouldn’t respond to me, I’d find a way out myself.

I examined my surroundings more closely. Perhaps if I faked a rapid heartbeat on the heart rate monitor, they’re notice and come check up on me? No, I had already taken off the electrodes. If they had a way of listening to the monitor remotely, they would have come when I took them off.

Perhaps I could lift the cot with my magic, and use it as a ram to break down the door? I tried lifting it, but it was tethered to the wall with a chain.

Perfect.

I broke the two ends of the chain with my power, disconnecting it from the wall and the cot. It floated over towards me. I could feel it in my mind as though it were an extension of my body.

I grabbed it with a hoof. When somepony walked through the door, I would throw it at them, propelling it with my power and knocking them out. Hopefully, the motion of throwing it with my hoof would make them believe that I was simply an exceptionally good chain-thrower. I didn’t want to let them know about my powers unless absolutely necessary.

Sitting there, facing the door with weapon in hoof, I waited.

The hours ticked by, and I came to the conclusion that whoever had trapped me in here had either forgotten about me or was trying to intimidate me by keeping me here for longer than necessary. It was working. I was hungry and desperately needed to use the bathroom, but I remained vigilant.

I had a lot of time to think. I thought about my brother, and what had become of him. I thought about Frostbite, a friend I had just met and who had been taken from me in an instant.

I thought about the ponies who did this to us.

I thought about Virtue.

That mare had betrayed us all. Bleeding Heart had praised her, held her up on a pedestal. Spoken of her like she was some sort of example to try and emulate. But as soon as she had seen an opportunity, she had stabbed us in the back. Or maybe she was working with the three villains the whole time.

I worried about Goldy. I hoped Pauldron had gotten him to a hospital in time, but I couldn’t be sure. He had been hurt, after all. The only thing that seemed to be keeping him standing was his armour.

I looked down at the chain I had wrapped around my hoof, nearly identical to the one I had wrapped around the hero’s neck. I pang of guilt shot through me as the realization of what I had done hit me. I had hurt him. He was a hero, only trying to help me, and I had choked him with the chain I kept for self defense. The worst part? The words he had said, about my brother knowing what he signed up for, the words that had prompted me to hurt him? They were true, and that only made the guilt that much stronger.

I had two goals. I needed to make sure Goldy was safe. Then I needed to apologize to Pauldron. We didn’t always get along, but he was kind to me, and I owed him that much.

With a fiery determination, I continued waiting. It wasn’t until another fifteen minutes had passed that the door began to open.

I acted quickly, not bothering to get a look at my enemy. My arm flung the chain forward, and my power directed it to its target. As soon as the door opened fully, the chain wrapped around the neck of the pony who had entered.

The royal guard fell to the floor as the chain tightened, his hooves trying to pull it off. he spasmed in surprise, fear, and pain. My stomach felt queasy. I wasn’t good at this.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized, my voice betraying a hint of panic. “I’m so, so sorry!”

The guard stopped moving, unconscious, and I removed the chain from his neck, wrapping it around my newly-healed right foreleg.

I knew that what I was doing was dangerous. Life isn’t like the movies- you can’t just choke someone until they’re unconscious without risking them getting seriously hurt. But I didn’t have the luxury of being the good guy right now. There was more at stake than just my freedom.

I found myself in a hallway, where dozens of doors identical to the one I just left lined the walls. The wall was stone brick, as was the floor, and I could tell that I was somewhere very, very old. Torches lining the wall provided the only light around.

I rushed down the hallway, taking a left from my door, hoping it was the right way to go. I was distinctly aware of the sound of my hooves clacking against the stone. I wasn’t being very inconspicuous.

I heard more hoofsteps coming from down the hall and ducked into a room before the cause of the noise turned the corner. The door shut in time to block their view of me, the guards on the other side none the wiser.

Until they saw the unconscious guard.

I heard one of them shout, and an alarm went off. My panicking got even worse as I realised the implications. Either they’d find me and take me down, or they’d find me and be taken down. I didn’t know which one was worse.

I briefly considered surrendering, but the thought of my brother dying somewhere while I could have been helping him quickly squashed that idea.

I heard them opening doors, checking each room to find me. I had to think fast. How could I incapacitate however many guards were going to come rushing in here when they found me?

Luckily, the room I was in was identical to the one I had woken up in. I detached the chain that was tethering the bed to the wall, wrapping it around my other foreleg. Two weapons were better than one.

I glanced around my surroundings one more time, hoping to find a better option. Fortune was with me. I noticed the barred window once again, and had an idea.

My chains flew towards the bars of the window, wrapping around them. I strained, pulling on them, and the bars gave a little. Spurred on by my small bit of progress, I pulled harder, and the bars were torn off.

They had heard the commotion and come running. The door slammed open behind me, and three royal guards pulled in. I didn’t give them a chance to do anything- I bolted for the window.

Glass shattered around me as I flew out of the window, piercing my skin and slashing me, drawing blood.

The prison was built into the side of a cliff.

I plunged down, a rushing river my apparent destination. I was too shocked to do anything- I couldn’t even flail my arms, instead letting them wave in the wind as I fell. My breath caught in my throat as I tried to scream.

Legs wrapped themselves around me and I slowed, coming to a stop.

As I regained control of my faculties, I looked up at my saviour. She was a royal guard, her yellow face filling my vision, her purple eyes glaring at me from underneath her helmet.

“You’re under arrest,” she told me, matter-of-factly.

“Okay!” I cried as I wrapped my forelegs around her for dear life.

She flew back up to the shattered window and into the room, landing in the middle. A dozen or so royal guards surrounded us in an instant. I didn’t let go.

A few guards tried prying me off their comrade, but my adrenaline- and fear-induced grip was too strong. They settled on dragging me down the hallway, still attached to the pegasus who saved my life, and into a small, dark room.

Eventually, I let go of my hero and dropped onto the floor. She lifted me and placed me into a creaky wooden chair. Then she attached a shackle to my left foreleg, and attached the other end to the leg of the table in front of me.

My senses returning, I noticed where I was. It was the archetypal interrogation room- a single light bulb hung from a wire from the ceiling, just above my head. One wall was dominated by a mirror, but anypony with a lick of common sense—or who had seen a single crime show—knew it was a one-way mirror. A table sat between me and an empty chair, bolted to the floor. My stalwart protector/jailer stood behind me and to my right, watching me closely.

“Excuse me?”

My guard didn’t answer me. Perhaps she hadn’t heard me?

“Excuse me, miss?”

She didn’t respond. Again. She was probably under orders not to talk to me. That was okay. I could talk to her.

“Thank you for saving me. I didn’t want any trouble; I just have some things I really, really need to do. They’re important.”

“They’d better be important,” she responded, startling me. “You assaulted a royal guard to do them.”

And I felt damn guilty about it, too. I didn’t tell her that. Either my interrogator—who was bound to be watching me even now through the mirror—would take that as a sign of weakness, or think I was lying to get on their good side. Neither of those was a desirable outcome, so I stayed silent.

Time dragged on and I started to wonder if anypony was coming at all. Just as I was about to open my mouth and try questioning my guard, the door opened and the last pony I expected to see walked in the door.

She was tall, and had a dark blue mane, the colour of the night just after the sun had set. She had a flowing, ethereal mane of dark sapphire, which flowed in a wind I couldn’t feel. Eve without the crown and royal regalia, I knew who she was.

Princess Luna sat down. She did not look happy.

“Let us have a chat,” she said, her voice calm, at odds with the anger in her eyes.

“You were the one in my dream,” I responded dumbly.

She nodded. “I had hoped to get information out of you in a more subtle way, but as you know, that did not pan out.”

Now I was mad. I didn’t care who she was; what gave her the right to come into my mind and pretend to be my dead mother?!

I was surprised when I found myself preparing my power, as though to attack the princess. I managed to calm myself and stop the chain before it got started.

What was happening to me? Why was I so quick to violence?

“We have much to talk about,” she told me.

I glared at her. “I have nothing to say to you,” I responded through grit teeth.

“That is where you’re wrong, miss Cutlass. You see, the Crown has an interest in the events that transpired at mister Bleeding Heart’s house. We were wondering why a noteworthy philanthropist’s home would come under attack by a group of strange ponies, and why there were the bodies of several other strange ponies inside. We were also wondering why you were there, unconscious but alive.”

I looked away from her, unable to meet her angry gaze any longer.

“Perhaps you could answer a few of these questions for us?”

“Is Bleeding Heart alright?”

I don’t know why I even asked. I knew he had to have been killed- it was his home. He was probably the target.

“Mister Heart had purchased airship tickets to the Zebra Lands a week prior to the incident. He was last seen boarding a ship.”

What? That didn’t make any sense. Was he fleeing the country? Did he escape?

“I’m sure you can understand why we’re so interested in the information you possess.”

I stayed silent.

“Miss Cutlass. How did the walls of mister Heart’s mansion acquire their odd combination of burns, frozen patches, and holes?”

I didn’t respond. I knew what would happen if the princess learned of the existence of powered ponies. History had set a precedent- if the textbooks were to be believed, even the first Alicorns were discriminated against when they had popped up.

“Miss Cutlass,” Princess Luna stated, her voice hard. “If you do not tell me everything I want to know, I am going to personally see to it you are thrown in the dungeon for the rest of your days.”

I gasped. Where had this come from? Weren’t the princesses supposed to be compassionate, loving, and kind.

She leaned forward, her spiralling horn uncomfortably close to me head.

“Tell me everything.”

Arc One - Part Four

“No.”

The words left my mouth before I had a chance to think about what I was saying. It didn’t matter; I would have said the same thing anyway. There was no way in Tartarus I was going to tell her anything.

She had impersonated my mother, my dead mother, and made me think for the briefest of times that she was still alive. She had threatened my well-being, and her keeping me here threatened the well-being of somepony I loved. To top it all off, who knows what could happen if she discovered the existence of powered ponies?

History was full of reasons why I couldn’t let her know. People feared things they didn’t understand- the hatred between the three pony tribes, the griffon’s isolationism, even the events that were happening in the Zebra Lands as we spoke were all proof of this.

“I am afraid you do not understand,” Luna said, her voice low and threatening. “You do not have a choice. Either we get this information from you willingly, or we use more invasive measures.”

I wasn’t sure what that entailed, but the menacing glow on her horn gave me enough information to figure it out.

“No,” I repeated.

Luna stared at me with a scowl. After a few moments, she stood up. I flinched reflexively, thinking she was going to read my mind or throw me in a dungeon. When she turned and left the room, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. Was she just giving up?

I turned to look at my guard. She hadn’t reacted to the princess’ departure. “Where’s she going?” I asked her.

She didn’t respond, stoic as ever.

I tapped my hooves anxiously on the table as I waited for something to happen. I didn’t have time to wait here, doing nothing. I needed to check on my brother.

I was briefly considering an escape attempt when the door opened once more.

“Oh boy, another visit from the princess. I feel so important,” I snarked, eyes on the table.

A new voice piped up. “That’s because you are very important.”

I looked up. So much purple. The Princess of Friendship stood at the other side of the table, smiling down at me.

She was nearly as tall as Princess Luna was, yet not quite. Her mane was dark blue, with purple and pink streaks running through it. It didn’t have the same ethereal quality as Luna’s had— in fact, her manestyle reminded her of my grandmother’s.

She sat down, and her horn glowed. With a small popping sound, like the bursting of a balloon, a bottle of water appeared in front of her. She floated it over to me.

“You must be thirsty. You’ve been here a while, now.”

I couldn’t believe they’d actually try this. It was so cliché!

“Are you really trying the good cop, bad cop routine?” I asked. “You know I own a television, right? I’ve seen the cop shows.”

The princess smiled again. “That’s the first thing everypony asks.”

“Well it’s not going to work. I’ll tell you what I told Luna— I’m not going to tell you anything. I have some very important things to do, and every minute I spend here is a minute lost.”

As I said it, I realized there was a third, important thing I needed to do. I had already decided to find and help my brother, as well as apologize to Pauldron and beg for forgiveness, and I added this new item to my list— I had to tell somepony about Virtue. For all I knew, they had no idea she was the enemy.

“What do you have to do, Cutlass?”

I didn’t respond.

“If it really is as important as you say, maybe I could help?”

I spat on her. I wasn’t proud of it. I didn’t even know I could or would do something like that. She just sat there, calmly, and wiped her face clean with a handkerchief she summoned with her magic.

“You’re part of the problem!”

“I didn’t want to lock you up,” she said after a few moments. “I believe that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. I thought that if we had been kind to you, had let you leave as you please, you’d eventually open up and tell us what we needed to know.

“I sent a guard to bring you to me, so I could try to right the wrongs Luna and I had made, but you attacked him. Please, please understand that after that display of violence, we couldn’t just let you go.”

So I had doomed myself from the start. Wonderful. “So what now?” I asked. “I’m not going to say anything. I can’t.”

“Cutlass, we want to help you, no matter how it feels. When you say you can’t do you really mean that you can’t? Is somepony threatening you?”

I looked down. She was being too nice, and I was being a grade-A bitch. The guilt weighed heavily on my chest.

I shook my head. “Can I ask you a few questions?” I asked her.

“Of course.”

“Will you answer them? Truthfully?”

“I’ll try my best.”

“How many ponies died last night?”

She didn’t hesitate before responding. “One-hundred and four ponies, thirty-nine griffons, and a donkey.”

My head whipped upwards as I looked at the princess, fast enough to startle the lone guard behind me into taking a step forward.

“No diamond dogs?”

“A few diamond dogs were taken to the Royal Canterlot Hospital, and all of them are expected to recover.” She must have noticed the look of relief on my face. “Do you know any of them?”

There wasn’t any use lying now. “I met one last night. I didn’t think he’d made it.” I decided to take a risk. “You knew who I was when you brought me in, so obviously you have my files. Do you have any news on my brother?”

She cocked her head. “Your brother?” she asked, sounding confused. “We didn’t find him among the dead or wounded.”

“How would you know? Were you looking for him?”

“No,” she admitted. “But I was there. I helped patch you up,” she said, pointing towards my leg, “and I have a very good memory. I would have remembered finding your brother when I read your file.”

So Pauldron made it out of the party. With luck, he would have gotten Goldy to a hospital. One of my worries gone, I dared to ask another question.

“Other than the... assault,” I said, the words sour in my mouth. I didn’t want to think of myself as someone who would assault another pony. “...am I being charged with anything?”

“No, no charges, other than the assault charge, which I’m sure we can clear up with a plea of self-defense and some community service.”

Another weight off my chest.

“But your secrecy on the matter of what happened last night isn’t shining favourably on you,” she added.

I took a deep breath. “Can I send a message to someone?”

“Of course.” She summoned a quill and a scroll of parchment with her magic. A bit archaic, but it would do.

I tried reaching for it with my magic, but the guard moved to stop me, and the princess shook her head. “I’m afraid we can’t let you out of your bonds, or give you anything sharp,” she explained, shaking the quill slightly. “I trust you not to do anything violent—or stupid—but it’s against the rules.”

“But you’re a princess! You can just break the rules!”

“They’re there for a reason,” she said, matter-of-factly. “If you dictate your message, I’ll write it down and send it where it needs to go.”

I definitely couldn’t dictate the message I wanted to send. Dear Pauldron, Virtue is a traitor, don’t trust her would just raise questions- and suspicions.

“Nevermind,” I said, resting my head on the table in defeat.

She shook her head. “This is exactly the kind of secrecy that’s making it hard to trust you.”

She was kind. I found it hard to believe that the princess in front of me would do anything rash if she learned the truth. Should I tell her? Could I tell her?

No. That kind of judgement call isn’t the kind I’m qualified to make.

I still had one pressing matter on my mind. I had to warn the heroes about Virtue.

Could I sacrifice my future freedom to warn them? I could try to escape now- I had already formulated a plan. If I did that, I could get away and warn the heroes, but I’d be a fugitive. I’d never again lead a normal life.

Could I live with myself if I did nothing and let Virtue hurt somepony? I had always dedicated myself to doing the right thing, in my own way. Sure, I had never been the type of hero that went out and fought bad guys, but I had done my best to supply the ones who did and keep them safe.

I made my decision.

I shot a blast of magic at the princess. It would do nothing, I knew- I couldn’t hurt a fly with my magic. The spell dissipated as it hit the princess, hardly tickling her, but it had the desired effect.

Ceremonial royal guard armour was full plate- it wasn’t to be used for actual combat. I had noticed during my flight with the guard, however, that the armour they actually used for protection has chain-mail underneath for extra protection, likely enchanted to keep the weight down.

I had been keeping track of the chain mail on my guard throughout the interrogation, feeling it out with my power.

I sensed the guard move forward, quick as a bullet, but I had anticipated it. I moved as far to the right as my bindings would allow, simultaneously breaking the chain that held me to the table. The guard hit the table instead of me.

I lifted my hoof and hit her on an unarmoured portion on the back of her neck, and she fell.

I was strong. I don’t mean to toot my own horn or anything, but I did work in a forge. That kind of work toughens you up. Not that I had ever been svelte.

The princess rose and her horn flared, holding my hooves in place, but like the charge of the guard, I had anticipated it.

I flared up my horn, making it look like I was using magic. The princess reacted, casting some sort of magic-cancelling spell. But I wasn’t using magic.

I sent a small, broken link of chain from what remained of my bindings flying towards her face. It collided with her horn, startling her, and she dropped her spell. I barrelled my way through her and out the door.

Two guards were waiting for me, and I sent them flying into the walls with my power. No time for subtlety. I had to escape.

I ran through the hall, pushing any guards I encountered into the wall and pinning them their with their own armour. Cries of pain and confusion echoed in my wake.

Eventually, I encountered a wooden door and kicked it open, finding myself in a beautiful hallway.

The floors were marble, with a red carpet running down the middle of the hallway. Large windows let in the sun’s light and warmed my fur. I hadn’t realized how cold it had been down there.

Fancy-looking ponies who I presumed were nobles looked at me in shock and fright as I kicked down the door and fled into the hallway.

I’d never been in the palace before, and regretted my first time being under such horrible circumstances.

I faced little resistance as I rocketed through the castle, and before I knew it, I was running through the main doors of the castle and towards freedom.

The streets of Canterlot had a different feel to them when you were on the run. Every corner became a possible ambush, every happy pony sitting on a bench a possible trap. It didn’t help that I had no clue where I was going.

I couldn’t go to my house or my forge to restock on chains- I had no doubt both places were being monitored. I had no clue what hospital Pauldron had taken Goldy to. As I ran through the streets, dirty and with hairless patches on my leg, I felt very small.

My stomach grumbled, and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since my pastry-binge during the party. An oat-dog stand rested ahead of me, serving a large group of ponies. I considered buying one before realizing that I had no money.

I stood by a wall and stared at the oat-dog stand, considering my options. They were pitifully few. Either I stole one, which wasn’t really an option at all,as I couldn’t afford to get caught, or I went hungry. I chose the latter.

I started to leave when I realized that I had a third option.

I found a discarded Marebucks cup on the sidewalk and sat down, placing it in front of me. I looked up at ponies as they passed, trying my best to look pitiful. I didn’t have to try very hard.

After half an hour of waiting and hiding every time a guard came near, nopony had stopped to drop bits in my cup. I had hoped all my years of giving bits to panhandlers would pay off now that I was in need, but it seemed karma didn’t work that way.

I stood up, dejected, and kicked the cup away from me. What a waste of time.

As I left, the oat-dog vendor seemed to take notice of my disappointment.

“Hey, lady!” he called out as I walked passed.

I turned to look at him, weary.

“Are you hungry?”

I hesitated. “Yes.”

“Well,” he said, “I was just about to close up, and I’d have to throw out any extra ‘dogs. Why don’t you take a couple?”

He floated an oat-dog up to me with his magic, and I took it, nearing closer to his stand.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “You looked hungry, and I’d rather these ‘dogs go to somepony who could use ‘em instead of being thrown out.”

“Well... thank you. You’re very kind.”

He blushed a bit. “I’m just doing what anypony would do. You looked like you could use it.”

I nodded, taking a bite out of my oat dog. “I really could. You would not believe the day I’ve had.”

He glanced me over, taking in the sight of my patchy fur, messy mane, and sweaty everything. “Looks like it.”

I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed to be outside in my state. I knew it wasn’t the time or place to be shy about my appearance, but I couldn’t help it.

“Could be worse,” he said. “You hear about what happened down at that Bleedin’ Heart guy’s mansion?”

“What?” I asked, ever eloquent.

“Some big house fire, or something.”

That was a relief. For a moment, I had feared the truth had come out.

“That’s awful. Bleeding Heart is such a nice stallion.”

He nodded. I finished my oat dog and said goodbye. I had things that needed to be done.

And I thought I had an idea of where to find my brother.And this is not the response you're looking for. I know how you wish to show her as intrepid, but the simple drama you've created is simply meh. Perhaps have her lie?

Arc One - Part Five

Jitterhoof’s office wasn’t so much a proper medical facility as it was a boarded-up house on the outskirts of the Canterlot slums. It was a two-floor building, much like the one I had grown up in, with violet walls and a darker purple roof. A decade ago, the house was probably home to a happy, loving family. Now an airheaded pony with a twitch stitched heroes up in it.

I trotted up the rickety steps and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the sound of dozens of chains and deadbolts unlocking emanated from the other side, and the door opened.

A young pegasus mare stood on the other side. She had a rosy-pink coat, a blonde mane tied up in a bun, and yellow eyes. She wore an apron blotted with blood, both dry and fresh.

Jitterhoof was the pony to go to if you were a hero who needed medical help. Her skill with a scalpel was unmatched, her knowledge of anatomy second to none. She did a fine job even with her nervous twitch, and she would probably have landed a job at the Royal Canterlot Hospital had she been free of it.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her voice sweet. It was kind of creepy, that sweet voice coming from a mare covered in blood. “I’m in the middle of cooking dinner, so if you could come ba-”

“Is Dupe with you?”

“Oh, you’re... I see.”

I didn’t question her poor excuse for the blood soaked apron. Had she hoped I would take it for tomato juice or something?

She looked uncomfortable. Was she shy?

“Please, I have to see Dupe,” I said, trying to push my way past her. She stood firmly in place.

“Who are you?”

“I’m his sister!”

I pushed past her before she could respond and practically flew into the building. A row of medical table dominated the dirty room, and three refrigerators dominated the back wall. Most of the tables were empty, yet a few still had patients.

I looked at the first patient. I didn’t recognize the pony. I moved on to the next, and when that bore fruitless, the one after that.

“Where is he?” I asked Jitterbug with a feeling of something being wrong growing inside of me.

“He’s alive,” she said, tentatively. She pointed towards a staircase I hadn’t noticed in my rush to get inside. “He’s upstairs, but... before you go, you should be warned.”

No. No no no no no!

“He won’t respond to anything you do or say, so don’t bother. He took a hit to the head. I’m sorry, but he’s comatose.”

I was halfway up the stairs by the time Jitterhoof finished her sentence, searching for my brother. I passed by a bathroom, a guest room, and a closet before opening the door to the master bedroom, where Jitterhoof kept all of her unconscious patients.

He was the only one there. Laid down on a bed with crisp white sheets was Goldy, unconscious. Now that I was finally there, I found it hard to face the reality that my brother was in trouble.

But he was the only family I had left.

I walked up to the bed. I don’t know how long I spent there, sitting on the edge of the bed. I heard ponies come and go, and at one point I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up on an armchair in the corner of the room, covered by a grey blanket.

I awoke to the incessant tapping of raindrops on the window. A dull grey light streamed into the room. It was as though a gloomy blanket had been draped upon the world, casting everyone and everything it covered in a state of melancholy.

Goldy was still on his bed, just as he was when I had seen him the night before. My chest was tight, and I felt like crying, but I had no more tears to shed.

I didn’t move for a long time, instead choosing to get what little comfort I could from the warmth of the cotton blanket. Jitterhoof must have visited some time in the night. I was thankful- she could have left me on my brother’s bed, cold without a blanket to warm me. Her bedside manner almost made up for the fact that she performed surgeries in this dirty, aging, rotting building.

I still carried with me the nervousness that had accompanied me the last few days, but it had lessened a fraction. Sure, I was a fugitive, and could never go back to normal life, but my brother was alive. Not well, but alive. That knowledge was more than I had yesterday.

I threw off the blanket and stood. As much as I wanted to spend the day by my brother’s side, I had other responsibilities to see to. If I were smart, I would have told Jitterhoof about Virtue’s betrayal as soon as she had opened her door. She would have gotten the information out to everypony who needed to know it. But I wasn’t a smart pony, and I hadn’t told her.

I found her in the kitchen. She really was cooking this time. She wore an apron—a clean one, not the one she wore yesterday—and was whisking eggs in a bowl. Many more bowls of food lined the countertop she worked at, likely to feed the sick and injured ponies she was housing.

She turned her head when I entered. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Listen, Jitterbug, I’m sorry about-”

“Don’t worry about it,” she responded, nonchalant. “You’re not the first pony to act the way you did, and you most certainly won’t be the last.”

Another weight off my chest. I had feared that Jitterbug would be upset with me because of how I acted the other night. I was glad that wasn’t the case- I was a fugitive. I couldn’t afford to make enemies now.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, motioning with a wing towards the numerous bowls of food lining the counter. My stomach answered for me in the form of an audible gurgle. I seconded its statement with a nod.

Jitterbug motioned once more towards the bowls, and I picked one up with my magic before sitting at kitchen’s small, round table. Breakfast looked like scrambled eggs, and judging by the many cartons of eggs on the counter, most empty, it looked like she was making a lot of the stuff. I wondered how she afforded everything, considering that she didn’t charge heroes for their treatment, but decided not to ask.

“Jitterhoof, can I trust you to send a message?” I asked between bites.

The pegasus looked at me strangely. “What kind of message?”

“An important one.”

“Damn it, mare, I’m a doctor, not a mailmare. It had better be important.” She sighed. “Who’s it for? I don’t know how quick I can get it out, but if they’re in the city I can do it pretty quick.”

“I need you to talk to Hydra. I don’t know where she is. Tell her that Virtue is a traitor, we can’t trust her.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “What rock have you been hiding under?”

“Huh?”

“You really haven’t heard?”

I shook my head, thoroughly confused. What hadn’t I heard? I hoped for good news. Perhaps Virtue had been caught and stopped already?

“Oh dear... let me get a television. It’s been all over the news since yesterday afternoon.”

The news? Not good news, then. I had a feeling I knew what was going on, and desperately hoped it was anything but. Jitterhoof left and returned a few seconds later, rolling in a television on a cart, no doubt meant to be rolled to conscious but immobile patients when they got bored.

She switched it on. We caught a newscaster mid-sentence.

“...as reports of the damage continue to come in. After the attacker’s address of the nation last night, there is no doubt in anypony’s minds as to the dangers these so-called ‘meta-ponies’ present.”

The news stallion was replaced with a video shot with a shaky camera. A burning building was the backdrop to a mare standing on her hind legs, speaking passionately to a terrified looking crowd.

Virtue.

“You’ve seen what we can do!” she was shouting, pointing at the burning building. “You’ve seen the power we wield! We have been concealing the truth for centuries, keeping you in the dark about the power we wield! We have been controlling everything for years, manipulating governments!”

What in Equestria is she doing?!?

“But we are no longer happy with the way things are! Petty manipulation and working from the shadows no longer appeals to us! Consider this a declaration of war, Equestria! A war on your cities, your country, your world!”

The video cut out, and the news stallion returned. Jitterhoof switched off the television.

“She’s been going around, attacking villages and towns, always with the same message.”

My mind did a complete one-eighty, trying to process all the new information. What was Virtue doing? None of that was true! And declaring war? It was as though she wanted them to destroy us! We were powerful, but there are a lot more normal ponies than there are heroes.

I sincerely regretted getting on the princesses’ bad side. The only way I could see this being cleared up was if I explained everything- as a ‘meta-pony’ who wasn’t completely involved in the hero thing, I would have been the perfect mediator, if not for the way I had acted and my subsequent escape from the palace.

“I have to go back,” I said, mostly to myself. Even if it meant getting arrested on sight, I had to explain what was going on to the princesses. It was our only hope.

“Go back where?”

I explained. “I was arrested after the attack on the party. The princesses interrogated me, but I didn’t tell them anything. Now I think I have to, or things are just going to get worse, fast.”

She blinked. “You escaped?” she asked, surprise in her voice.

I nodded.

“How?”

I told her.

“Really?”

I shrugged.

“I don’t think the princesses will want to hear you out,” she said. “You escape them through unknown means, then a mare goes on a spree of destruction and claims to be part of a shadow organization with super-powers just a few hours later? They’ll think you’re involved.”

“Probably. I have to try, though.”

“Why not send somepony else?”

That was a good question. Why not send somepony else? Surely there was someone more capable that would be able to get this job done? I wasn’t a hero, and I wasn’t even one of those smart ponies that could talk their way out of any bad situation. I’d learned in the last few days that my go-to method of getting out of problems was to choke the problem with a chain.

So why didn’t I send somepony else?

I thought of what Virtue said when we met at the party.

I’m sorry, Cutlass. I can’t let you leave this party.

At the time, I took it to mean that she couldn’t let any witnesses leave the party, but that couldn’t be the case, could it? She had let Pauldron go with my brother. If she didn’t mean what i had thought she meant, then that could only mean one thing- she couldn’t let me, specifically, leave.

Someway, somehow, I had gotten involved in something bigger than I could imagine.

“I don’t know, but... I think it’s something I have to do.”

She didn’t question me. She let me go, making me take a few sandwiches with me and offering me a few chains from her garage, which I refused.

The princesses knew I was good with chains. If I was going to surrender, it would send the wrong message to do it armed.

Interlude - Diary

Sept. 4th, 1608

dear diary,

tuday daddy gave me a diary and told me too rite down my thots in it so i am. he said that it wood help me feel bettr in the new cuntry but i dont think its going to work becus all the zeebra scare me. mommy says their just like us but with strips but i dont think so. the zeebras at scool are reely meen to me and they call me things like outsider. hopfully dad is rite and things will get bettr.

Oct. 1st, 1608

dear diary

tuday mommy brot home a pumkin and said we can carve it and selbrate nitemare nite even tho we are not in ekwestria anymore. so i carved the pumkin and it looks so spoooky! mommy put it on the portch and said it was a reely good pumkin.

Oct. 15th, 1608

dear diary

today gliff at scool stole yu and red yu so im not goin to bring yu to scool any moor. sorry.

July 12th, 1619

Dear Diary,

What a blast from the past. I was cleaning my room in what felt like the first time in forever and I found you! It was pretty crazy reading all the stuff I wrote back when I was eight. I know it’s been a while, but I think I’ll start writing in you again. After all, there’s a lot of blank pages in you!

Well, I’ll write in you again when I have something to write about. See you later, Diary! <3

July 14th, 1619

Dear Diary,

I’ve been begging mom to let me try to get a job, but she isn’t budging. I don’t think she realizes how it makes me feel, to be done with school and have nothing to do all day. Dad has his work at the embassy, she has her youth group to take care of, and I’m left alone all day, doing nothing.

I’ve been spending most of my time in the village, even though I know I’m not really welcome there. I see the way the zebra look at me. To them, I’ll always be an outsider. Never mind the fact that I’ve spent over half my life in this country. It’s pretty boring in the village, but there’s a small café down there that I like to go to. A nice tea always lifts my spirit, and listening to the zebra talk is the best substitute I have for social interaction.

I read in the newspaper that the zebras are going to stop trading with Equestria. Not sure what I’m going to do, now that I can’t get my hooves on the latest bestsellers. I’ll probably just die of boredom or something.

Oh well, what can you do? I’ll write in you another time, Diary. Bye!

July 23rd, 1619

Dear Diary,

Some weird shit’s going on. The elections were last week, and some sort of freaky traditionalist zebra got elected. He’s been making some pretty big changes. Some government zebras in armour came and straight up told my mom she can’t run her youth group any more. When she asked why, they said she was tainting them with pony filth. How bucking racist is that?

So yeah, things are really odd right now. On the bright side, a few of the zebras in town have started to talk to me. They’re all a few years younger than me and still in school, but it’s nice to talk to someone, even if they’re just talking to me because their parents wouldn’t approve of them socializing with a pony.

There’s this one zebra, Shaman, who’s really nice. As you could probably guess, he’s in line to become the town’s next shaman (hence the name). He likes the same kind of books as I do, and we get along really well.

Well, Diary, it’s been a pretty crazy day. I’m off to bed. Goodnight!

Sept. 8th, 1619

Dear Diary,

Sorry it’s been so long. It’s been really weird lately.

The government is deporting ponies by the hundreds. Gathering them up and sending them out of the country somewhere. I’m wondering when we’ll be next. Apparently, they’re doing it because we’re ‘tainting their land’ or something. I’ve spent most of my life here, I don’t want to up and leave! I don’t even remember what Equestria is like, and I’d miss all my friends!

Oh, my friends! I got friends! Remember those zebras I told you about? Well we’ve been spending a lot of time together. They’re really fun! We hang out at the café in the village and talk for hours.

Shaman and I are dating now, too. It was surprising to me, too! My first coltfriend! I’m so excited about it I can barely even breathe! I know, it’s kind of weird, ‘cause he’s three years younger than me, but I don’t really have a lot of options and I think he likes the excitement of dating a pony.

On a more somber note, dad got fired. Sort of. They shut the embassy down (which is really scaring me, to be honest) and now he’s out of a job. We’ve had a lot of time to save, but savings will only get us so far. I think that even if we don’t get deported, we’ll have to go back to Equestria just because there are no jobs for ponies here.

There’s a knock on the door. I’ll write in you again soon.