A Balance of Deceit

There was darkness, there was something on his hooves, and his head hurt. A lot. Especially his horn. It was hard to look around, because something was keeping him in place, although he couldn't feel a thing, apart from his head. His entire body from the neck down was numb. There was something in the darkness, a light. He panicked. He felt cold cuffs tugging on his hooves, binding him to a chair. The chair wasn't very strong. He blinked, trying to see what was around, but he could only feel the rocky surface being scraped as he tried to wiggle his way out. He had to escape. Had to get out!

"Prism." There was a voice. It sent chills down his spine, and suddenly he wanted to be as far away from it as possible. He had to get out, to leave. He saw the orb of light approach. He kicked and tugged, feeling the chair worm its way to the right.

"Prism." He stopped. Where had he heard that name before? The light was shining directly onto him now. He couldn't see who was behind it. The ground was wet and rough, like an underground cavern. Until the heat of the light touched him, he hadn't realized just how cold it was.

"It's your name. Don't you remember anything?" The voice said. It was soothing, but his instincts were telling him not to listen. There was something else in the cavern. His name? Prism? The pain in his head got worse. Was he supposed to remember something? He wanted to move. He could see the edge of the ledge he was on now. The light petrified him though, somehow. Maybe he was simply scared.

"I know you're scared. You need to remember, what did you see at the gates, Prism?" He tried to wrench away from the light as it got closer, and the pain got worse. He squirmed and bucked as he tried to free himself. Something over the ledge was shimmering. Water. Rocks.

"Prism! We don't have much time. What do you remember?" Every time the voice mentioned his name the pain intensified. It was almost like he was trying to force something out of his skull. He was getting closer to the water. If he could break the chair...

Prism grit his teeth and failed to suppress a scream as he felt something drain out of him, despite the fact he could not see or sense it on his fur. He gasped. The light wasn't pointed at him anymore.

"It knows! It's coming, turn off your lights!"

The last thing Prism saw before a barrage of senses, visions, and vivid thoughts assaulted him was a claw of shadows knocking the light away, and he fell, bound to his chair, over the edge and in a helpless free fall.

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"Hahah. Very funny Prism, but this is serious." Cirrus told him in a tone that suggested he wasn't very amused by the joke. He bit into his tofu burger, dripping sauce all over his plate.

"Oh, but I am being serious. Why would you want to be a windmage?" Prism said. Windmages were said to be pegasi with strange powers that could not only manipulate clouds and the weather to the extent of a normal pegasus, but had extraordinary control over heat, powerful winds, condensing water in thin air, and even rudimentary levitation. Heck, he wasn't sure if anypony but his friend believed they even existed. "I thought you said you wanted to learn about pegasus combat tactics," he said. Cirrus didn't reply for a moment, as he was busy wolfing down his meal. In a very uncivilised manner, that is.

"Yeah, well, I thought it would've been cool a long time ago, but then I thought, does Equesia really need me to be a soldier? We've got enough of them, if what I hear is correct. I mean, ever since Luna and the elements of harmony disappeared, there haven't really been any monster attacks or conflicts for the last century, and my great-grandfather was a Windmage, so it can't be that hard."

Prism tried not to roll his eyes. "You know he wasn't actually a Windmage. From the stories, you'd think he was an alicorn." He wasn't nearly as good at history as Cirrus, but he knew myth and legend when he heard it. Cirrus seemingly ignored his question. He grabbed the local newspaper with his telekinesis, absentmindedly skimming over the stories. A restaurant bulldozed, a rich pony hiding from taxes, a war with the griffons, a hit conspiracy theory about Princess Twilight Sparkle still being alive(at the very least the reasoning was somewhat sound), and yet another controversial story about Celestia. A typical newspaper. Nothing new or interesting, that's for sure. The newspaper was fresh, as if it had only been delivered an hour ago.

Prism put the newspaper down and was trying his burger when he did a double take. "You said there hasn't been any monster attacks or conflicts in the last century?"

Cirrus nodded. "Yep. Pretty strange considering there were loads of monster attacks when the elements were around. You wouldn't  believe the theories ponies come up with." He leaned over. "Why do you ask?"

Prism sighed. "Maybe some combat will be necessary, after all. We're at war with the griffons, and Celestia's brought back conscription."

Cirrus's eyes almost popped out of his head. He grabbed the newspaper. "So much for the obsoleteness of soldiers these days, huh?"

"I'm sure it'll blow over soon. The Queen's wise, she's not gonna let this war go on for too long, especially if it's with the griffons," Cirrus said anxiously. Prism wasn't sure if it was to reassure him or Cirrus. He raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'm technically in the Equestrian Pegasi Reserves, and they know where I live."

"So-"

"I don't want to think about it." Cirrus held his head in his hooves. Prism looked down at his meal. It was partially eaten, but he wasn't hungry, despite how tasty the meal looked. He got up from the table and walked out of the fast food restaurant. Automatic carriages drove past him, while pegasi flew overhead. He joined a group of ponies waiting to cross the road. While he waited, he remembered being little, when his parents got their first automobile, a brilliant contraption originally created by Twilight Sparkle.

Of course, her first generation automobiles were magically-powered, which resulted in a great many problems until the combustion engine was created long after her disappearance, and automobiles became far more commercially viable. Now, only fifteen years afterwards, almost all pony-drawn carriages had been replaced by these third-generation machines, and they covered the streets of Manehattan almost twenty-four hours a day.

Somehow, some ponies still drove first generation automobiles, which were powered by focus crystals, an old concept that stored magical energy and sometimes spells. They only held enough energy to take an automobile a dozen kilometers or so, which quickly made them rather obsolete for ponies intending to travel farther.

"Prism?" He turned around. It was Cirrus, staring at him strangely."You've kinda been standing there for a few minutes now." Prism looked around. The ponies had already crossed, while he stood there blanking out.

"Well, uh, I was just thinking about, er, stuff." That didn't usually happen. The blanking part, of course, not the thinking part.

"Heh."

"Well, I gotta scram. Flight lessons and all." Cirrus waved, and trotted away. Prism waved back. As Cirrus turned the corner in the direction of his house, Prism turned back around and crossed the road after the roadpony's signal. Some of the ponies in the automobiles looked rather bored, staring straight ahead as they waited for the pedestrians to cross. Some looked impatient, glaring at whatever they happened to be looking at. They likely weren't having a very good day. Prism ignored the ponies in the automobiles and did his best to go with the flow of the hustle and bustle of Manehattan. Around him were tourists and locals alike, out and about, particularly at this hour, when they would go shopping, eating, meeting, sightseeing. Himself? He had a package to pick up. Delivered all the way from Ponyville, booktopia of Equestria. Cirrus had been there once. Said it was 'kinda boring' when they talked about it, which didn't deter Prism from wanting to go there. He pulled a map from his saddlebags and made his way to the postage office.

The postage office was a small place, and Prism very nearly got lost on the way there. He went through alleyways, parking lots, train lines, and the likes to get to the street. He never ceased to be surprised by the mess that was the city. Despite it's apparent middle-of-nowhere location, the office was well kept and smelled like fresh grass inside. Boxes upon boxes were stacked on shelves, each with a hastily scribbled name on them. He didn't realize quite how large the office really was when he was outside.

"Prism Swivel? I'd like to get my package. A book." He hoofed his piece of paper with his package code written on it to the stallion at the desk. The stallion was a relatively skinny pony with grey hair and a brown coat. He stared at for quite a while, and Prism was getting nervous. "I believe it's written correctly?" he told him.

The stallion turned it upside down and trotted off immediately. Prism could only look as the stallion walked down the isle, and with trained efficiency, picked out a small package at the far end of the office before returning.

"Ah, yes, an old book, this is. Written just after Discord's rule was ended by the Princesses," he said.

Prism was about to take the package and thank him when the stallion stopped him.

"Have you heard the tale of the Changelings? They were like a plague for Equestria a long time ago, lead by their Queen Chrysalis. Dark and mysterious, pony-shaped and insect-like in their true forms. Shapeshifters, they were. Infiltrating Equestria and feeding off of their emotions. They were always there, causing trouble, hiding among us. We could always tell they were there,"

Prism had no idea what the stallion was talking about, and quite frankly, didn't want to listen to him.

"Yes, it's all very interesting, in fact, my friend loves history, so-"

"Until they disappeared. Gone, just like that. Like the word you were about to say but mysteriously slipped your tongue. They were there, but nopony remembers them, and there is not a trace of them. Not a single incident. Did the broken Queen finally decide to purge them from Equestria? Or is there something else at work here?" He leaned over the counter.

"The sun grows weary, my little pony."

Prism took the package and left without saying goodbye. The stallion was nuts. It was obvious. He almost felt sorry for him, rambling on about such things. The broken Queen? Was he referring to Celestia? He didn't want to know. Sounded like one of those wacky conspiracy theories the newspapers would print every week or so. He shook the conversation from his mind and put the package in his saddlebags.

Alright, now to get back to his apartment. He reached for his map. He'd traced a red line from his apartment, to the corner he met Cirrus on, and to the post office. He just had to go back the way he came. He'd trot around to the back of the building, where he'd walk up through 144th street to the intersection, when he'd go down an alley behind the furniture store and...

Oh dear. He had climbed over the fence from a metal dumpster, but there was no way of getting over the fence from the other side.

This was a bit of a problem. There were probably no taxis within a kilometer, and the closest was Lunar station, in the opposite direction of where he wanted to go. Prism groaned. He'd never been in this part of Manehattan before, and would have no idea of its layout. The best he could do was start walking along the route he used initially. Maybe there was another way to get to the other side of that alleyway from 144th street.

He looked at the map again. It detailed essentially the entire western side of Manehattan, from streets, shops, districts, apartments, train lines. It was enormous, and had to be folded at least twelve times. Somepony could probably find a way to get from anywhere to anywhere else in Manehattan. Right now, though, it wasn't a whole lot of use to him, so he rolled it up and continued on his way.

When Prism first arrived at the end of the 144th, it wasn't very crowded but it was still lively, as shops tried to grab his attention with colorful signs and welcoming facades. It was very close to the post office, and the road ran by the buildings just behind it. When he got back, most of the shops were already closed or closing down. He must've been there just before their closing times, he assumed. One of the shops he could see was still open, a furniture store. He approached it.

Compared to the other shops, the furniture store was rather dull. It had a pretty old sign that read 'Clearance's Sofas and Tables' hanging above it. Inside was a bored looking mare at the counter, who looked to be in her 40s, and another mare browsing the shop. He trotted up to the mare at the counter, who he presumed was Clearance. "Hello, uh, Clearance?"

She laughed. "Oh, no, that's my husband. You can call me Rosequill. Here to get something?"

"Oh, no, actually," Prism said. "I was hoping you knew a way to get from here to uh, Heartstrings station? By the music hall?"

Rosequill thought for a moment, looking at the far wall, where there was nothing but a grandfather clock. It looked like she was trying to think of something, before she looked back at him. "Ah, yes. I got it!"

"So how would I get there?"

"I don't know. I was just trying to remember if I knew whether or not I knew how to get from here to Heartstrings station."

Prism kept in his exasperated sigh. Couldn't she have just said whether or not she remembered how to get there? Maybe the mare browsing would know. "Thank you."

As he made his way to where he'd last seen her, he couldn't help but look around. It was a strange furniture store.  He saw several potraits of various famous ponies, like Celestia, Rarity, Twilight Sparkle, and even one of what appeared to be Princess Luna. Then again, he'd never been in many furniture stores. It simply struck him as odd that such old and probably valuable portraits would show up in a furniture store on 144th street. As he approached the quills section, he saw her.

The pony in question was a relatively young unicorn(mid-20s?) with a light blue coat and purple eyes. Her mane was dark purple and buttery yellow, and her cutie mark was a quill and compass. She heard his hoofsteps and turned around. It seemed like she was surprised to find another pony in the shop.

"Hello..."

"Amethyst."

"Hello Amethyst, my name is Prism. I was wondering if you knew a way to get from here to uh, around Heartstrings station?"

"I'm just a little bit, well, lost." He added.

She blinked. "Oh, by the music hall?" He nodded. "Why, I live around those parts!" There was a pause. Was she waiting for something?

"It'd be a little complicated to tell you. I could show the way, if you'd like. I'm basically done here anyways." She gestured to the bag of quills and ink jars. There had to be dozens of them!

"Ah, yes, I'll just... Wait outside, I suppose." Hearing no reply, he took it as a sign of satisfaction and trotted out of the shop.

It was beginning to turn dark outside, and he could see the moon rising, alone in the sky, save for a few stars. Legend had it that when Luna still controlled the night, every night would be a blanket of stars and constellations, because of her lifelong affinity for it, while Celestia was always meant to control the day. It should've only been around 5, though. Maybe it was just daylight savings ending, and the mare in shop had forgotten to reset the clock.

It got very cold as the sun began to make way for the night. He stood next to a streetlamp outside the shop and shivered a little, wondering when the mare would come out. He swore he could see a pony's shadow out on the sidewalk, but there wasn't anything making it. A trick of the light?

"Latet," a rough, animal-like voice spoke.

Maybe not, he thought, as it came out of the ground and leapt at him, impossible jaws open wide.