Into the Blackby somaticChapters1: Bad Dreams2: Under Siege3: Lost Princess4: Ancient History5: Welcome to Canterlot6: Orders from the Princess7: The Jailbreak1: Bad DreamsThe machine gurgled as it sucked away their magic, brass pumps leeching Discord and Twilight. It gorged itself. It squealed as pipes filled with sacrificed life. It was not enough. Knives cut through sinew, separated bone from bone. Wings fell useless to the floor, forgotten in the chaos. She was mortal, now. And Discord was dead. “Twilight! Twilight!” “She’s not waking up! Applejack, set her down!” The earth pony heard Spike and gently lowered Twilight off her back, Rarity’s magic helping to lift the unicorn down. She was sleeping, but she was not resting. Her body twisted as remembered pain traced her nerves, each jolt flexing her limbs into new and agonizing positions. “Hold her legs or she’s going to hurt herself! Or, no, don't! Just...!” Spike didn’t know if that was what you were supposed to do during a seizure. He just knew he had to do something. “Twilight, it’s okay! We’re alright!” He ducked just in time to dodge a bolt of lilac magic. She was casting in her sleep. “Twilight, I’m here!” His little hands wrapped themselves around his friend, hoping to surround her with as much love as he could. Together, their bodies quaked. Twilight threw her neck back, howled at the sky, and gnashed her teeth. “Twilight!” Her head fell into Spike’s arms. Her breath slowed. Her eyes opened. “Spike?” “It’s okay. We’re here. We’re all here.” One by one, the once-dead girls came close to nuzzle Twilight, each warm touch filling her with a little of the strength she lost in the storm. One more ragged breath. A few more sniffles. She was getting better. “Come on, sugarcube. Let’s get you back on my back and the heck outta Dodge.” Applejack crouched down and waited for her. With Pinkie’s help, Twilight staggered to her feet. “No, I don’t want to be a…” Her knees crumpled under her. “Missy, you’re a burden I am more than happy to carry. Now swallow that pride and get on me ‘fore I make Pinkie sing her ‘I-Thought-We-Were-Dead-But-We’re-Not’ song again.” The other girls grimaced. Five thousand years in a grave had not worked wonders for Pinkie’s musical abilities. With considerable help, Twilight clambered onto Applejack. She seemed fine just a few hours ago, when Spike and the girls saw her for the first time in five millennia, but her adrenaline had worn off, and now she was feeling the pain of missing wings and a magical vacuum pump stealing most of her spirit. Fluttershy had done her best to bind her injuries, but vines and leaves were no substitute for real bandages. Whenever he hugged her, Spike could feel the squelch of bleeding wounds where her wings used to be. He had hugged her a lot recently. Every time Applejack carried her, she fell asleep. Every time she fell asleep, she had the same nightmare. And every time, Spike was there to comfort her. It was slowing them down, this constant start-scream-stop-hug-start-again. The forest seemed no thinner than when they first set out from the ruined cottage, and the night was no brighter. If not for Spike’s dragonfire-lit torches, they would barely be able to see the ground in front of them. “Do you suppose the forest has grown in our… absence?” Rarity chimed in, her refined accent an odd contrast to the muddy crag they were walking through. Fluttershy answered. “It certainly seems like it. Oh, I hope we’re out of here soon. It’s very dark, and… eep!” The pegasus gave a little yelp as she saw a spindly shadow. “Oh, don’t worry, Flutterbutter! I’m sure that shadow that looks exactly like a twelve-foot-tall poisonous spider is just a scraggly old tree!” Pinkie bounced her way ahead of the group to check, then bounced back. “Well, Pinkie, what is it?” “It’s actually about ten feet tall, and I don’t know if it’s poisonous. It does have fangs, though!” It took the girls a moment to realize what Pinkie meant. It took three seconds for them to bolt a hundred feet away. “Are y’all… alright?” Applejack panted, Twilight still slumbering atop her withers. A halo of Rarity’s magic had kept the unicorn in place during the escape. “No boo-boos here!” answered Pinkie, bubbly as ever. Fluttershy took a few deep breaths. “I’m… I’m scared. But I think I’m okay.” “Spider’s definitely lost our trail.” Rainbow reported in from above, watching the skies from her hiding place in the treetops. “We lost him a few hundred yards back.” Spike was next. “I’m fine, too. And, uh, you can put me down, Rarity.” “Oh, sorry, dear.” She let the baby dragon slide off her back. “Did any branches smack you in…” “I told you, I’m fine. Thanks for carrying me out of there.” He waddled over to Applejack and Twilight. Much as he hated to admit it, his stubby legs made him quite the liability in a chase. He brushed a claw over Twilight’s fur, and could have sworn she cracked a little smile when he did. For now, she was sleeping soundly. “Huh. Guess all it took was a poisonous spider on our tail.” “Venomous.” He barely heard her whisper. “Twi? Are you awake?” “Venomous.” Her mouth scarcely moved as she spoke, and Spike was half-sure she was talking in her sleep. “‘Poisonous’ is only if its flesh or skin is toxic. If it has toxic fangs, it’s venomous.” Her eyes finally opened. “You should know better, Spike. I’m sure I made you take a zoology test sometime.” Spike started to frown, but he couldn’t stop his lips lifting into a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure you did.” “Are you all a-okay, Twilight? I hope you are, because you were really scaring us, or as Rarity would say ‘giving us an awful fright, dearest,’ but it looks like…” “Yes, Pinkie. I’m okay.” Fluttershy came in for a nuzzle. “No more bad dreams?” Twilight hesitated. “A… a little. But getting better.” “Better enough to get off my back?” Applejack craned her neck to look at the pony she was carrying. “Not that I want to rush ya, but my legs are getting awful cramped after that little rodeo.” “I can take her!” Pinkie slid next to Applejack and waited as Twilight crawled over onto her. She might not be a farm girl, but she was an earth pony, and she was strong. “Thanks. No bouncing though, Pinkie. I don’t know if my spine could take it.” So the girls set off, Spike striving to keep pace and Rainbow Dash watching from the sky for any venomous—or poisonous—monsters. “The trees are thinning out! We’re almost there!” Rainbow had scouted ahead again, zipping back and forth between the girls and her lookout locations. “Thank heavens! This swamp is mayhem for my complexion, and I doubt it can be doing Twilight much good, either!” Rarity’s magic reapplied her friend’s bandages while they trotted. If only I had my needle and thread, I could stitch that wound up, but alas, the afterlife truly did not let you take it with you. “I’m okay, Rarity. Just not okay enough to walk, I guess. Sorry.” She jiggled gently as Pinkie trotted with her on her back. “Oh, hush, dear. You’ve done so much for us. Especially… recently.” “About that… you don’t remember anything from when you were gone?” Applejack snorted. “You can say dead, sugarcube. And no, we don’t. I’m sure you would love to write it down in one of your research notebooks, but I can’t recall much of anything between you hugging me as I coughed up my lungs in the hospital and you hugging me again in the ruins of that there cottage.” She adjusted her hat as she thought. “Sure been an awful lot of hugging going on.” “It’s not that, I just wanted to know… if it hurt you. Being ripped back to life like that… I’m sorry.” Fluttershy saw the tears creeping out of her eyes and reached her wing over to her. “Oh, don’t cry, Twilight. We know you meant well… even if…” She caught herself and shut her mouth. Discord had offered her immortality, all those years ago. She’d refused it then, and she wasn’t so sure she wanted a new life now. But this was not the time for anger. Fluttershy’s friends needed her, needed her alive and comforting. That mattered more, she reminded herself. The others always mattered more. A shout from Rainbow derailed her train of thought. “Hey, does that look like Cloudsdale to you?” “Quiet, Rainbow! We don’t want yer voice drawin’ any more of them…” Applejack stopped as she lifted her head to look. Now that the branches had finally cleared, they could see it. Hovering over their heads sat the largest airship they had ever seen. More of a city than a blimp, the ship was a stormy mass of gray clouds and muted rainbows, a floating foundation upon which stood barracks, guard towers, artillery emplacements, and concrete barricades. Illuminated by harsh arc lamps, it did look almost like Cloudsdale. If Cloudsdale were made of gunmetal and barbed wire. Twilight watched the ship slowly change course. Even from below, she could see the flurry of activity aboard the vessel. Thunderhead cannons crackled with electricity as pegasi scurried over the flying fortress, hauling lightning cloud munitions to and fro, checking the pressure valves, drilling for battle. And aiming those cannons at her. Twilight flinched as a magically-amplified voice boomed from the sky. “Twilight Sparkle, this is Captain Muzzle Flash of the Royal Armada. By order of Princess Celestia, you are under arrest.” Author's Note In case you were wondering, Spike was wrong. You should not hold a person down during a seizure. Also, please don't take medical advice from a My Little Pony fanfic. 2: Under SiegeA squadron of pegasi descended from the airship, gray flak jackets making them almost ghostly in the moonlight. Twilight was too stunned to speak, but Applejack raised her voice. “Now, what’s going on here? Hey! Treat the princess with some respect!” Her shouts went unanswered as the soldiers slipped a magic-restraining ring on Twilight’s horn. From atop Pinkie’s back, Twilight could see the farm pony’s muscles tensing, preparing to buck. “No, Applejack. Let them. I’ll be fine.” “Fine? These highfalutin ponies with their magic whatsits and their…” “It’ll be okay, Applejack.” She nuzzled Pinkie’s neck, and the party pony let her slide off her. “I suppose it’s time for me to deal with… what I did.” She started toward the armed pegasi, but a claw on her hind leg held her back. “Spike, I’ll be fine.” She tried to comfort him with her voice, but she knew he had been doing most of the comforting recently. “You keep saying that, Twilight. I’m not sure I believe it.” “Don’t worry, Spike…” She caught herself before she said I’ll be fine again. Fluttershy’s quiet voice broke in. “Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but who are these ponies?” Twilight and Spike answered at the same time. “Equestrian Royal…” Spike apologized. “Oops, sorry.” Twilight continued. “The Royal Armada, Equestria’s sky navy. They weren’t around at the time you… departed.” A sable pegasus stepped forward. “Well, if you girls are done with the chit-chat, the captain would like a word with you.” He wasn’t as professional as the guards Twilight was used to. At once, the other soldiers flew closer and wrapped their hooves around the girls, one of them grabbing Spike. Another magic restrainer went on Rarity. “Why, I never! Don’t you know who we are?” The white unicorn shouted as burly forelegs hoisted her into the sky. “Can’t say I do, ma’am. Only one I recognize is the Lost Princess.” Rarity opened her mouth for a question, but the sudden burst of speed stole her words. The flight up to the airship was brief, though the thunderhead cannon trained on them made it somewhat disconcerting. As they flew, the guards wrapped some sort of copper coil around their captives’ hooves. “I don’t have wings, you know. I can’t walk on… clouds!” Rarity yelped as the pegasus dropped her onto the airship. Reflexively, she kicked her legs back and forth, trying to stay aloft. As she discovered when she smashed her knee disgracefully into the cloud, she did not need to try. “Huh?” Rarity felt a faint tingle around her hooves, and looked down to see the copper coil glowing faintly. “You’re not the only groundpounders aboard. We’ve got earth pony mechanics, unicorns manning the shields—’course we got cloudwalking charms for you.” Rarity looked up to see a guard giggling at her predicament. A scowl silenced him. “Well.” She picked herself up, brushed away the cloud dust with her mane, and tried to pretend that never happened. Around Rarity, Applejack and the others touched down as well, their landings notably less dramatic than hers. Rainbow threw off the guard’s forelegs as soon as she could. “You know, I could have flown here myself.” “Yes, I’m sure you could have, ma'am.” “Well, I’m flying now, and there’s nothing you can do…” “Ma’am, there are three crossbolters aimed at your current location. As we speak, the gunners are bringing that number up to six. If you do not settle down, a thunderhead might find itself pointing in your direction, as well.” Rainbow Dash settled down. The sable guard suppressed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know who these ponies were, but anyone who traveled with the Lost Princess was certain to be dangerous. If not for Celestia’s direct orders, he’d had bombarded them all from above before sending marines to pick up the ashes. Trotting in on gangly legs, a mottled gray pegasus with a too-large helmet disrupted his destructive fantasy. She tried to hide it, but she couldn’t mask the squeak in her voice as she spoke. “Captain says he’ll see them now, sir.” A nod of the head later, the guards and the captives marched down the path to the command bunker. The corridor was as bleak as the rest of the fortress, all gray and concrete and joyless. A few posters peeled from the walls, printed propaganda pieces made by the millions. Twilight read the slogans as she passed. Your Home, Your Duty: Fly High in the Royal Armada. Bravery: It’s the Equestrian Way. Every Pony Plays Their Part. The washed-out colors of that last poster showed young fillies and colts—little older than children—working in some vast factory, assembling what could only be war machines. Twilight shuddered, half from the poster, half from blood loss. Spike would have done anything to be by her side, but he and the girls had been separated from each other, a guard dividing each pony from one another. He could see stick grenades in their chest pouches, wooden handles jutting out close to their mouths for ease of throwing. “I liked the shiny ones better.” Pinkie’s voice threw a wrench into the military precision of the affair. “You know, the shiny uniforms that you could see your face in?” Pinkie took a close look at her guard’s steel-gray helmet—a bit too close of a look, if the hoof pushed her away was any indication. “Haven’t worn those for ages, ma’am. I take it you’ve been away for a long time?” Twilight cut in. “You have no idea.” Rarity’s eyes widened as an idea struck her. “Oh, my! We have been gone for ages! Whatever does that mean for fashion! Is my mane in style? Quickly, guard, do you have the latest couture magazines on hoof?” “Only magazines we have around here are the ammo mags in the arsenal, ma’am.” The mottled pegasus spoke up, her voice bright as a firefly compared to the other guard’s growl. “Sir, I think Grape Shot has some—” The guard blushed. “We do not talk about those magazines in mixed company, Windlass.” Windlass’s ears flattened to her skull. Something seemed off about her, but Twilight couldn’t quite say what. Other than the flak jacket and the grenades, of course. Twilight hadn’t been very concerned with military affairs while she was trying to cure Spike—could a mobilization as major as this really have slipped beneath her nose? This airship dwarfed anything the Armada had, at least that she could remember. “The captain’s through there, ma’am.” Twilight noticed a grimace on Windlass’s face as she walked through the door. Two guards followed her. She waited for the others to come, but the door slammed shut behind her, making her jump with a start. She felt something pop as her wing wounds reopened, and a little gasp escaped her lips. If the captain noticed, he didn’t care. The black-furred pegasus stood hunched over a map, his forelegs on the table. Graying locks of auburn mane flowed from under his captain’s hat, joined by a short but bushy beard on his jaw. Behind him, the three windows showed nothing but thick slabs of armor covering the glass. Twilight’s gaze darted through the room, hoping to find something to explain what was going on. A few model ships, a dartboard, a voicepipe— “So, the Lost Princess finally comes home. Welcome to the HMS Thunderchild.” The captain’s voice could only be called a rumble. Twilight wondered if he had swallowed a storm cloud as a colt. “You keep calling me that. What does it mean?” Muzzle Flash took a moment to mark a course correction on his map, then turned to face Twilight. “Ms. Sparkle, do you know what year it is?” “Of course. 4977 of Luna’s Return.” She hadn’t been in the Everfree that long, had she? He shook his head. “That’s the date of your disappearance, Twilight. The year we lost you, and all this madness began.” He paused to shout orders through the voicepipe. Apparently, the bilge needed pumping. “Twilight, it’s 5000 LR. You’ve been gone twenty-three years.” Discord did something, skipped ahead to get to the stellar alignment. In the confusion, the storm—she could be forgiven for a lapse in memory. “Things have not gone entirely well in your absence.” The captain gestured to a guard. A pull of a lever later, the blast shields over the windows folded away. Twilight trotted over to him, careful not to strain her wounds any more. Before them stretched acres of black earth, a few more airships visible in the distance. Twisted trees sprawled all around. “I don’t understand.” “Look closer.” Twilight started to cast a magnification spell, until she remembered the magic restrainer. She squinted instead. “There’s something on the ground, something dark. The trees look scraggly, I guess, but I don’t see how that’s unusual. Is it—” Her eyes widened. The ground wasn’t just black. It was breathing. Clumps of earth rose and fell in the unmistakable rhythm of a living thing, sending quivers through the thorny grass. The trees weren’t blowing in the wind. Judging from the rising smoke from the airships, there was no wind. Yet the branches waved nonetheless, reaching out for her. Suddenly, Twilight was very glad she was in the air. Muzzle Flash’s voice reverberated next to her. “We’ve been keeping it contained from up here, but we can’t stop the spreading. It’s eating our villages, scorching trails through our farms… Frankly, I have no idea how you even got out of the forest alive.” Twilight looked dazed, as if she had just learned she had to take a test she never studied for. “Ms. Sparkle, Equestria is under siege, and Princess Celestia believes you’re to blame.” Author's Note Yes, I know that in America, "soldier" only refers to someone in the Army. However, this is the Equestrian Royal Armada, which works a bit differently. Since the living earth (the Wilder) restricts ground travel, airships became essential to all branches of the armed forces; hence, the Armada eventually became the dominant branch, enveloping the Army. "Soldiers" are those members of the Armada that specialize in close combat, whereas "skycolts/skymares" are the pegasi tasked with running the ship, manning the guns, etc. 3: Lost PrincessDrops of sweat sizzled on Celestia’s brow as she raised the sun to start the day. She had had no time to rest last night. Her wings still ached, immortal muscles knotting themselves under her skin. To fly all night, and still to fail… Softly, with silent steps as always, her sister came up behind her and began to preen her feathers. For a moment, Celestia let her, closing her eyes as Luna’s warm lips pushed pinions back into place, plucking out a few broken ones. But she could not let her spend so much time on her. She shook her head, Luna feeling the movement. Her sister gave her one last brush, exhaled one more breath into her feathers before she lifted her neck away. “Sister…” “Luna, you shouldn’t. You know a simple spell will do as well to fix my wings. It’s sunrise. You need to sleep.” “Can you blame me for wanting to make my sister feel a little better?” She tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “You’re tired, and I know your duties drain you. Our people need you to watch their dreams at night, so sleep in the day.” She extended a wing and pulled Luna close for a hug, necks rubbing against each other as big sister enveloped little. Her pastel mane was weary and did not billow with magic like it once did, but it was still long and warm and, if Luna breathed deep, still smelled like sunlight. The hug almost sent Luna to sleep, but she managed to lift her mouth to Celestia’s ear and breathe “I promise you’ll have sweet dreams soon.” If Luna’s eyes were open, she would see Celestia’s smile. As it was, she only felt her sister’s strong legs carrying her to bed, and her lips caressing her forehead with one more kiss. Celestia lifted one leg in front of the other as she left Luna’s room, too tired to do anything that could properly be called walking or trotting. Shambling was more like it. Another airship had sunk that night. It was growing more aggressive, and if the reports were true, the lost crew would not even have peace once the Wilder took them. She sighed, a long sigh that came from strained vocal cords. A shapeless halo formed around her horn as she fixed her feathers. She was correct: the spell worked. It was functional. But it was not beautiful. Nothing was anymore. Acting on autopilot, her hooves took her up into her study—no, not her study, her war room. That was its name now. She remembered the frantic days here, more than two decades ago. The letters she wrote, the orders she sent. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest. Report sightings to Canterlot Castle. She had been optimistic, then. Twilight went on journeys all the time. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest. Reward offered for information leading to her safe return. Surely she was only grieving. Celestia could understand the need to hide away for a while after a loss. Stars knew she had wanted to, after Luna’s banishment. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest. May be unstable; approach with caution. Reward offered for information leading to her safe return. She was strong. Celestia knew that. Very strong. She was proud she chose her as her student. Not like the ones that turned on her. Twilight would never do that. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest, presumed renegade. Engage with extreme caution; subject is magically trained and dangerous. Report any sightings to Canterlot High Command. Every expedition, every search party… nothing. Till the war dragged on too long, too bloody for her to waste any more ponies looking for a princess who didn’t want to be found. Celestia might have cried, but Equestria did not need a weeping princess. It needed a leader. And so, with heavy hooves and heavier heart, she began to plan the day. She did not plan for a breathless pegasus to flop into her war room, letter clenched in her teeth. Her lost princess was coming home. 4: Ancient HistoryA lone deer crept over the blackness, careful to place its hooves on the few scraps of safe ground he could find. He was injured, Twilight thought, something sickly oozing from his eyes. Still the buck staggered on, hoping for a way out. Another step, a quick jump. A pause to catch his breath, a glance at the undulating ground. Quickly, a dodge to the side. Not quick enough. He fell. He struggled. He succumbed. Black vines reached for him. Twilight put down the spyglass before she saw what happened next. Wordless, she passed it back to the captain. He was unfazed by the experience, taking advantage of the lull in conversation to light a pipe. “We call it the Wilder.” Twilight barely heard him, her mind still somewhere down below, in that blackness. Her head shook. “Huh? The wilderness?” “No, just Wilder.” She felt the floor move underneath her. It could be the airship changing course, or it could be her own nausea. It could be her memories of the living dirt that ate the deer. She needed someone to talk to, someone real, not another pony from the mad world she’d stepped into. She needed… “I want my dragon.” “Spike, you mean? That little beastie… I used to hear stories about him, the great worm of the—” “He’s not a beastie.” Flash coughed out a stream of smoke as Twilight glared at him. He knew the ring on her horn would block her magic, but still, he could swear something sparked in the air. “And he’s not a story, either. He’s my friend. They all are.” She took a deep breath, and the air cleared. Of course there were no sparks. No one could defeat a magic suppressor, could they? “Where are they?” she asked, purple eyes watching the drifting airships. “They’ve not been harmed, if that’s what you want to know. My troops escorted them to the brig.” One of the guards in the room stepped closer to the captain and muttered something. “… though it seems your orange friend was a bit reluctant to go. We had to restrain her.” Twilight’s jaw clenched, spitting out one word at a time. “Her name. Is Applejack.” Muzzle Flash wasn’t intimidated. “Yes, yes, Applejack. I think I remember that name from history class, way back when. Saw her on a stained-glass window when my class took a field trip. She’s Loyalty, right?” “Honesty.” Another word spat out. “Apologies. It’s been awhile since we used the Elements. Most of our problems are solved with artillery now.” Twilight didn’t try to hide her snort. And I see that’s been working well for you. “So you forget the saviors of Equestria?” He paused to adjust his pipe, concealing his sigh as he did so. “Look. Do you recall who built the Saddle Arabian pyramids?” Twilight sat down on her haunches. “Of course. Amenhaytep II laid the foundation, and his successor Amen…” The captain chuckled and breathed out smoke. “Forgot you were a bookworm. Point is, your girls are as far back in our past as the pyramids were in yours when you were a filly. They’re ancient history—” He caught the rising ire in her eyes “—and they’re important, but you can’t expect an Armada flyboy just out of military school to recognize them.” Another smoke ring spun from his mouth. “Some of these colts are just kids to me. Princess knows they shouldn’t be here, but they are. That’s what war does, Twilight.” His grip tightened on his pipe till Twilight thought he’d snap it. Then as quick as it came, it stopped. “As I was saying, Spike’s the only one who lived into our present epoch, and even he spent all of his time in that castle of yours, doing Harmony knows what.” Twilight’s face flinched. Yes, she’d kept him there so she could cure him, but surely he’d had some sort of life outside of her attempts to prolong it. Didn’t he? “Well.” She wasn’t looking at him now, instead staring out the window, watching the Wilder wave its branches. Maybe somewhere down there the deer had risen to its feet and bounded away in time. Maybe. She’d done this, hadn’t she? You can’t take someone back from death without something else following. “Be that as it may, I still want my dragon.” “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned to the guard. “Tell the troops Thunderchild is returning to Canterlot a hair ahead of schedule.” Rarity did not know exactly what to expect after her… return. Perhaps the old princesses would invite her to the castle for a grand party to celebrate? Certainly they would get Pinkie to plan it, she had supposed on the march out of the forest. Or perhaps, she imagined, she would walk out of the woods into a strange and wonderful world, so different than before. Perhaps she would go on adventures with her old friends, just like they used to. Not that she particularly enjoyed those adventures, mind. Too much camping, and too few chances to restock her makeup supplies. Once, she had to use regular dirt and water to make her mud facial. The horror. No, Rarity truly did not know where her new life would take her. She did not expect it to take her behind bars in an airship brig, however. And in solitary, no less! The floors were solid concrete; everything was solid here, except for the ragged-looking scrap of cloud that served as a bed. A few lamps hung from the ceiling, flickering in rhythm with the humming of the engines. If Pinkie were here, she’d certainly find some way to turn it into a song. Pinkie always did brighten up a room. And if Rainbow were here, she’d be digging through the concrete, already scheming up an escape plan. Rarity suppressed a chortle. More likely, Rainbow would try to copy an escape plan from one of those prison movies she always watched—that or ask herself “What would Daring Do do?” She’d missed them, wherever she was. Rarity still wasn’t sure what had happened to her, exactly. A hospital, a room with too many pillows, some frankly abominable food… It was all a blur. Then a flash, and then Twilight. What happened in between was anypony’s guess. Then the airship, and now this. The brig. Everypony seemed to assume she should know why she was in here. Rarity remembered being disciplined as a foal, then being asked what she had done wrong. She certainly didn’t know! Well. Whatever was going on, she was quite sure she didn’t like it. Any escape plan would go better if she could establish a rapport with the guard… “Excuse me, darling, do you know how long this will be?” The guard outside, Windlass if Rarity recalled correctly, shrugged her shoulders. “Not really sure. Muzzle…” She stopped herself and stood up straighter. Rarity could hear her trying to deepen her voice, trying to sound like a soldier. “No, ma’am. The Captain will take all the time he needs.” “Any idea where this fine ship is headed?” “A soldier does not discuss troop movements with captives, ma’am.” Right out of a drill manual. Rarity sighed and slumped back, letting the cloud bed support her. The copper coil on her hoof sparked a little. The mare outside her door wasn’t always so gruff. Before, she had been almost excited, like a… like a filly eager to please her parents. How old was Windlass, anyway? Now, she was trying to be a soldier. Was that the term? A skymare? A marine? The light was dim, but bright enough for Rarity to see a black insignia on Windlass’s flak jacket. Think, Rarity, think! Is that a skymare rank badge? Ensign, maybe? Oh, if only you had finished reading Sailor’s Succor, you would know this! Rarity half-blushed as she recalled that particular romance series. It was literary trash, but at least it involved sailors, and it seemed like the Royal Armada had the same rank system. “Excuse me, again?” Windlass didn’t react. “I just wanted to know, what should I call you?” Her response was curt. “Skymare Windlass of the HMS Thunderchild, serial number 6780132.” Rarity had seen that face before on performers and actors in a play. It was the face of a mare wearing a mask. She had made it for herself, Rarity guessed, and it had served her well. The mask covered her youthful face with a frown, obscured her trembling upper lip with its heavy layer of military routine. It was ugly mask, and not a mask any young mare should wear. “Skymare Windlass, do you know where…” She cut her off. “Why are you with her?” “Say again, darling?” Windlass clenched her jaw. If she called her darling one more time… “With the Princess. The Lost Princess, not the real princesses in Canterlot.” “I beg your pardon? Whatever do you mean, ‘real princesses?’ I know it’s been awhile, but surely Equestria has not forgotten Twilight’s accomplishments…” “Yeah. It hasn’t.” The mask slipped a little, but Rarity didn’t see an eager filly underneath—she saw anger. “I don’t know what she did in that forest, but ever since she disappeared things have been creeping out. There’s magic in the earth now, bad magic.” Shadows cut her face into slices as she stepped closer to the prison bars. “She went in, the Wilder came out. It’s growing over towns and villages and hospitals…” Windlass tried to hide the tremors in her voice, but Rarity could see her shaking knees, could see the mask begin to fall away. “And when the Wilder hits a graveyard…” This was the real Windlass. Just a young mare, little older than Sweetie Belle used to be when she was gallivanting about on her little ‘crusades.’ Windlass was on a real crusade. More than anything Rarity wanted to reach out a comforting hoof and stop the tears she could see forming in the young mare’s eyes. She raised her leg… Windlass knocked it away. “Don’t try to reach outside the bars.” She fixed her mask, strapped it on tighter. Facial features forced themselves back into place behind it. A faint growl emanated from the voicepipe outside the cell. Windlass heard it and fumbled with her keys, almost dropping them on the floor. “Oops, sorry…” She stopped herself, snapping up the keys in her wing. “Orders from the captain. I’m to take you to the other captives. Twilight tried to memorize the layout of the airship, but the ring on her horn muddled with her thoughts. She trotted through cloudy corridors, a bit of fog drifting in from where gunfire had damaged them. It looked like they were in a loading area, judging from the pallets of grenades and supplies. Her eyes caught the flared nostrils of one guard, a subtle tightening of the jaw from another. She was never as gifted a diplomat as Princess Celestia, but she’d read the books and studied the art, and she knew enough to pick up signs of anger. They hated her. If what Muzzle Flash said was true, they had good reason to. Again, she felt the floor move. Somewhere below her, black branches waved in still air. Her friends must be terrified in that brig. She had to be strong, had to be the princess she thought was. Be strong for them. They needed her. They— “Spike!” She tried to leap for him, but the shackles on her hooves hobbled her. Another indignity, but one she had to suffer for the captain to let her be with her friends again. “Mhmmh,” he mumbled through a thick sheet of flame-retardant fabric swaddled over his mouth. The others came single-file behind him, each with their own restraints—Applejack’s looking the least comfortable. Rainbow and Fluttershy both chafed at the chains locked around their wings. Guards surrounded the seven companions, and Twilight couldn’t shake the feeling that there were snipers aimed at them. “What’s going on? Where have you taken us?” Muzzle Flash answered. “It’s a cargo hold. Normally this would be full of explosives, but we’ve been dropping those on the Wilder for a while now. Thunderchild’s heading back to Canterlot now.” He relit his pipe. “I assume there’s a princess there who’s quite interested in hearing you explain yourself.” The girls felt a shudder as engines burned harder. The ship was moving, not just hovering. “I thought I should give you girls a quick lesson on what’s happened since you left, maybe make you understand why my guards give you all the stinkeye.” Muzzle Flash motioned to a unicorn wearing a skymare’s uniform and a copper coil on her hooves. Her horn buzzed with magic, and a holographic map blazed to life near her. It was Equestria, but creeping swathes of slime green, moldy gray, and pitch black spread outward from near the Everfree, stopped only by the golden circle around Canterlot. He stabbed a hoof at the capital. “Gold zones are under the direct protection of the Sisters.” His hoof traced outward to the surrounding fields. “Green zones—a few Wilder attacks, but safe enough for farming. Further out, and you enter the Gray zones; Armada ships can fly over, but the ground is too dangerous.” “And the black zones?” Twilight asked. “Nopony’s gone that far.” Another voice spoke from the shadows. “… and returned in one piece.” “Stop scaring the prisoners, Grape Shot. But yes, he’s right. Black zones are off-limits for good reason.” Another voice butted in. “Should we really be explaining this to wanted criminals?” “Keelhaul, this is all printed on one of the posters outside. It’s not exactly a state secret.” He didn’t turn to face her, but Twilight could tell he was addressing her now. “You’ll have to forgive the guards. Not all of them are old enough to remember what you were before.” Twilight normally didn’t like ponies treating her different just because she was a princess, but it seemed like that earned her at least a morsel of respect. The captain continued, still gesturing at the glowing map. “Now as you can see, those black zones cover an awful lot of Equestrian land. Some of that land used to be villages and hospitals. I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but almost everypony on this ship blames you for it, Twilight. Keep that in mind when you talk to Celestia.” Another gesture, and the unicorn assistant shut off the hologram. “I’ve decided to allow you girls to stay together, since technically, only one of you is a criminal.” He glanced at Applejack. “Actually, only two of you. Either way, it would be better to keep you in one place.” Twilight remembered the bombs that fell from here a moment ago. “And I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that the floor in this room can be dissolved at will, dropping all of us to certain death?” Flash smiled. “Of course not. We have had to take several precautions, though.” Spike gave an angry mmhhmm as he tugged on Twilight’s mane. “Such as preventing your pet dragon from breathing fire.” “He’s not a pet!” Muzzle Flash turned and walked off. “Whatever you say, princess.” The guards shepherded the girls into a tight ring as the airship built up speed. 5: Welcome to CanterlotTwilight’s legs wobbled as the ship suddenly braked for the twelfth time that day. Bits of floor dissolved, making holes for pegasi to carry supply pallets into the hold. If she had to guess, Thunderchild was flying over farms to restock. There were no windows to check, of course, but at least the routine resupply operation had lulled the security guards into a sense of… well, security. They stood a ways away from the girls, helping with the heavier loads. Inch by inch, Rarity crept closer to Twilight, casting conspiratorial glances about the cargo hold. “I haven’t been able to get this accursed ring off my horn, but I’m ready to throw some hooficuffs if it comes to that. Rainbow and I are planning to…” “No.” Twilight’s expression barely changed. “What? These guards do not seem agreeable, and after what they did to poor Spike…” She waited till the guards weren’t looking, then gave him a quick nuzzle. “We’ll get you out of those nasty restraints, dear.” “Rarity, we’ll be in Canterlot soon, and the princesses will sort everything out. Once we’re there, maybe I can… maybe I can fix what I broke. Till then, just play along.” She turned to Spike. “I’m sorry about this, Spike. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Another shudder, heavier than the ones before, passed through the floor. “Hey, what’s goin’ on down there?” exclaimed Applejack. Grape Shot answered. “Final approach to Canterlot.” He stared straight at Twilight. “Time to face the music, princess.” Engines hummed and guards hastened in the corridors as the Thunderchild neared the capital. The cloudwalls opened, giving most of the girls their first look at Canterlot in five thousand years. It was not a good first impression. Canterlot was… different. Which was a polite way of saying ugly. Black smokestacks sprouted like fungus from the mountain, coughing clouds of soot as they fueled strange alchemy. Everywhere, the din of industry pounded, pounded, pounded; carriages rattled as they trundled over cobblestones, their cargo of steel and pig iron jangling with each impact. The princess’s castle had always been a fortress—that is, after all, what castles are for—but a wondrous fortress it was, all gleaming stone and golden-roofed domes. Now, it was shored up by concrete slabs, the once-grand flying buttresses reinforced with gray metal and adorned with machine gun nests. In a ring like a crown of thorns, giant artillery pieces surrounded the city, their muzzles blackened from years of abuse. From the size of the barrels, each one could throw a shell much bigger than a pony. Pinkie couldn’t help but stare.. “Are those industrial-sized party cannons?” Her eyes sparkled as she imagined all the streamers they could fire. Windlass fielded the question. “Haven’t been any party cannons made since your friend brought the Wilder down on us.” She didn’t try to hide her cold stare at Twilight. “Those are just regular cannons. Battle cannons.” Twilight felt a light breeze as Pinkie’s mane deflated. “No… party cannons?” “All manufacturing capacity has been redirected toward military applications. We aren’t going to make anything that shoots confetti if we can make something that shoots lead instead.” She still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Windlass, but the guards pushed Twilight down the airship’s ramp before she could dwell on it further. Muzzle Flash led the party through the dingy streets, narrowly dodging a few supply carriages. Getting off that heavily-guarded ship should have made the girls feel safer, but the crossbolters and sniper towers that cluttered the Canterlot skyline did little to make them feel at home. “Has it really been this nasty for so long?” Rainbow’s wings were still bound, but at least the commotion of the capital let the girls speak freely. Twilight answered with a shake of her head. “Not when I left for the Everfree. Things have changed since then.” Things had changed, indeed. Rounding a corner, they saw foals marching in military ranks and files, all gussied up in junior uniforms with practice grenades in their pockets. Most were blank flanks, but a few sported cutie marks of weapons, factory equipment, or medical instruments. One of the foals carried a flag, a yellow-and-black thing with the block letters Celestia Youth. Another of the young soldiers-in-training recognized Windlass and waved a hoof at her. For a moment, a brief moment, Twilight saw something like a foal greeting a friend, until her drill instructor shouted at her. The child snapped back, eyes forward, legs pounding the cobblestones in martial rhythm. Twilight took advantage of the brief pause to talk to Windlass. “Um, skymare? What was that about? Why are those colts and fillies…” Windlass cut her off. “Somepony has to fight your battles, princess. At least with this training, they’ll be ready when the Wilder overtakes us.” They kept on marching, foals to another lesson in tactics, and the girls to Canterlot’s castle, Spike in tow. “I’m sorry you have to see this,” Twilight said to the others. “I suppose it’s all my fault.” Windlass snorted at that line. Twilight started to continue, but an artillery volley drowned her out. Once she managed to pry her hooves off her ears, she shouted. “What’s going on! Are we under attack?” The guards didn’t even break stride when the guns went off. One of them shook his head. “They fire nearly every day. Alchemists say the blast wave from the impact repels the Wilder—it’s quite a racket, but at least it holds back the darkness.” Slowly, she stood up again. On instinct, she had cowered from imagined shrapnel, but now she could see the guns were pointing out, smoke still rising from their barrels. Some of the shells were still in the air, targeted at black spots on the map, miles away. Twilight staggered forward for a bit, out of sorts and baffled by the world she had created. Rarity took pity on her and tried to distract her. “Excuse me, Twilight, I just have to ask… did your mane ever do the, you know, the thing?” She gestured with a hoof, trying to charade a moving, magical mane. “Did I ever have a mane like Celestia’s?” She giggled. “Yes. Well, not exactly the same. I chose different colors.” Six of them, to be precise. One for each of the girls, and one for Spike. At least Canterlot was not all bad. They were close to the castle’s entrance, and that meant they were close to the statues. Many of them Twilight recognized—politicians from bygone eras, a few magicians she’d studied in magic kindergarten. Still, she only cared about one of them. “Is that you, Spike?” Rarity stopped in the middle of the street when she saw it. Even cloaked with moss and industrial soot, the dragon statue was impressive. Two sets of wings rose from his marble sides, thick arches built to shovel through dirt as easily as flying through air. The masons had even replicated the spiral engravings on this scales. The jewels in his eyes had long since been plucked out to finance the war effort, but a flicker of glory remained in the monolithic dragon, claws long and sharp, fanged mouth full of violent majesty. Yet despite his terrifying natural weapons and armored frame, the sculptors had been sure to remember what made Spike truly different. Around his feet sat happy ponies, warming themselves by the heat from his belly. Colts and fillies, all made of multicolored stone, clambered over his scales, sliding across his wings like they were sledding slopes. Though Spike showed his teeth, he was not barring them to intimidate the weak. No, he was smiling. He was laughing. “Oh, my, Spike. You were magnificent!” Spike couldn’t answer, his mouth still gagged to block his fire, but Twilight noticed a faint blush as Rarity complimented him. Fluttershy gave him a quick feather caress. “He still is, Rarity. Just a little easier to hug, now.” The guards didn’t stop them from touching, a small mercy that made Twilight ever so grateful. Applejack spoke next. “Land’s sake, you really grew that big?” Twilight stepped in front of the statue. “Bigger.” She wore the contented smile of a proud parent. “Our Spike got so big, we needed to get help from the Crystal Empire just to build a cavern that could hold him.” A frown darkened her face. “Of course, that was before the Empire seceded from Equestria.” The statue was so accurate, Twilight could almost see the scales shifting as they ground through the earth, musclebound wings surging in rhythm to bore through rock, drills of fire breath melting away boulders. “As he grew, we learned that Spike’s a rock dragon.” Rainbow piped in. “Like, a digger?” Twilight and Spike nodded in unison. “Maud would have loved that!” exclaimed Pinkie as she tried to figure out how large a cake she would need for a dragon that size. “Hmm? Who’s Maud?” Twilight felt she should know that name, but couldn’t place it. Probably another pony who’d fallen through the cracks of her memory. Before Pinkie could ask a question, the guards dragged them off. “Enough sightseeing.” The castle doors had been stripped of their decoration and covered with armor plates. If that wasn’t enough, sandbags circled every entrance, and rifles poked out of crenelations. Muzzle Flash showed his papers to the palace guards and brought the girls inside. The war had left its mark here, as well. Everything valuable that could be sold had been, leaving a few threadbare tapestries and— Twilight felt an urgent tug at her fetlock. “What is it, Spike?” she whispered. Her eyes followed his pointing claw to Windlass. For a second, she squinted, then saw what he had seen. She tried to cover it with her ammo pouches, but Spike had caught a glimpse of her flank, and now Twilight had, too. It was as blank as a foal’s. That was what was off. Windlass was just a child! She was… just a child. But she was still a soldier. Those schoolfoals, marching under Celestia’s banner… what had happened? What had she done? The girls followed her as Twilight walked on autopilot, eyes wide and glazed over. A sharp snap brought her back to reality. “The princess awaits!” A royal guardsmare, clad in a dull flak jacket like the Thunderchild’s crew, announced her presence. Behind her was another set of double doors, the engraving scratched and scuffed but still familiar—Celestia’s symbol. The doors creaked open, but the guard’s outstretched hoof blocked everypony except Twilight. It seemed she’d have to do this alone, just like she’d been doing everything for the past five millennia. The unicorn gulped and stepped over the threshold. There was no happy reunion, not at first. Just another room with a few signs of blast damage and a window in the wall. She recognized it, or what was left; it used to be a stained-glass masterpiece, two vitreous princesses enveloping the sun and moon in their magic. Now, it was just shattered glass. Twilight heard hoofsteps, heavier than any normal pony’s. Even with the magic restrictor on her horn, she felt power coming around the corner. It was warm, fiery, incendiary. It was Celestia. She let out a long sigh when she saw the princess round the bend. Finally, here was something changeless. Someone she could trust. “Princess, what’s going on? Why is everything… terrible?” For what felt like forever Celestia simply watched her. “I thought I lost you.” Her unsmiling stare slid over the bandages on Twilight’s back. “It seems I already have.” Her body towered over Twilight, even more now that the unicorn had lost her alicorn height. “Princess, have you… the children… surely this isn’t what you want!” Celestia kept staring at the student she’d thought she'd never see again. “What do you mean, Twilight?” She waved a hoof out at the Canterlot streets, where another column of trainee soldiers marched. “Foals! They’re carrying grenades! Princess, please tell me you had nothing to do with this! Tell me you’ve been too busy fighting the Wilder yourself to notice, tell me… tell me anything!” A ragged breath from Celestia. It was true, she was always busy fighting. Shards of lead and steel jutted from her back even now, but she had shifted her armor to hide it. Others needed help more than her. “Princess, you’re sending blank-flanks into battle! Even the guard that brought me here is one!” Celestia cast a quick glance at Muzzle Flash, who hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, it appears we are.” She turned her back to Twilight and looked out the broken window. “What… how can you be okay with this! Windlass is scarcely older than a foal! She’s not a skymare, she’s barely old enough to have her first coltfriend!” Celestia whipped around to face her. “I am not ‘okay with this.’ I am not ‘okay’ with ordering my subjects to plant toxic flowers in their orchards, so the alchemists can brew poison gas for our cannons. I am not ‘okay’ with turning dancers and artists into soldiers.” Every light in the castle flared brighter as Celestia’s mane sparked. Her voice deepened and thundered. “I am not ‘okay’ with the fate of Windlass, my beloved citizen who I am sworn to protect, going into battle without even a mark on her flank to illuminate her destiny.” Suddenly the lanterns dimmed and Celestia dipped her head to Twilight’s. “And were it not for the black thing you have unleashed on my little ponies, I would never have stooped so low. But you have forced me to.” “Twenty-three years we have fought, and were it up to me, my sister and I would have faced the Wilder alone, but the monster you created is too strong for us. We are at war, now.” Her breath felt like scalding steam on Twilight’s face. “Whatever honor I had burned away along with the first village it consumed.” Twilight tried to melt into the flagstone floor. “I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t know. I only wanted…” “You wanted what we cannot have. There is a reason necromancy is forbidden, my most unfaithful student.” Her eyes bored holes in Twilight’s skin, holes far deeper than the wounds where her wings used to be. She blubbered apologies, caught between remorse and fear by that awful, awful gaze. “Princess, I…” “Go.” Her head almost scraping the ground, Twilight limped out of the chamber. The guards followed her, surrounding her with cold steel and regimented precision. She was a captive now. Behind her, the tall door slammed shut. No one could hear it, but off the reinforced walls echoed a few soft sobs from Princess Celestia. 6: Orders from the PrincessBack in Ponyville, Twilight often had nightmares about being banished to the dungeons. She dreamed it was damp and cold down there. She dreamed icehearted wardens would clank along the stone corridors, keys jangling in iron grips. The other prisoners would wrap their hooves around the bars, screaming at times, shouting at others. Her dreams got the damp and the cold right, but as for the others, she was wrong. There were no more prisoners here, none but her. She guessed they’d all been pressed into service as soldiers; no reason to stick them in a cell if they can be thrown on an airship. At least, she thought she was alone. Down here, buried beneath the castle, there was only the faintest of lights, and she could barely see her own muzzle. Her skin erupted in goosebumps as something fuzzy and scaly crawled over her. Acting on instinct, she waved her wings to brush the—it must be a beetle?—away. Her only reward was a sudden sprain in her muscles. Right, no wings. She wrapped her tail around herself, a few bits of tree sap still stuck in it. She hadn’t had a chance to clean herself up since the Everfree, and a few streaks of blood still discolored her fur. Her bandages had leaked again, of course. Twilight slumped into a corner, wishing she could curl tighter and tighter until she vanished. It was dark here, dark like she deserved. The only sounds were the incessant crash of mechanical anvils, muffled by distance, the slow whine of wind through the drafty castle, and a light little snore. Her head rose from its hiding place behind her hooves. Snoring. It wasn’t her, and no rat she’d ever heard sounded like that. It reminded her of— “Spike?” “Snnrk.” “Spike?” The distant lantern was too dim to illuminate anything, so Twilight reached out with her hoof. “Is that…” Bump. “Hrrk? What? I wasn’t sleeping, just resting my eyes!” Spike yelled that last word as Twilight snapped him up in her forelegs, clutching him close like a drowning mare who’d just found a life preserver. “You know, Twilight, you can just ask to hug me next time. No need for the theatrics.” He dislodged his nose from her chest, rubbing it a bit. “I think you bruised my schnozz.” The unicorn took advantage of his distraction to dry her eyes on her fur. “Sorry, Spike. I’ll make sure to get permission next time.” “Well, it better be signed, notarized, and in triplicate,” Spike mumbled, his nose thoroughly rubbed and now nuzzled back into her fluff. “Of course, Spike. Of course.” The prison cell was damp and dark and cold. A unicorn’s giggle echoed off the walls. Screams. Vines like knives cut through the air. “Spike!” “I’m over here!” She heard his voice but saw nothing. Choking clouds steamed up from the earth, only dispersing long enough for glimpses of rotten trees and boiling sky. Still the vines whipped, lashing at her hooves. Again, wings that were not there struggled to lift her up. Again, she failed. “Spike!” She saw smoke mix with the smog—good smoke, the sparkling smoke that came from Spike’s lungs. Following the trail, she cut a path through the quagmire. The dragon found her first, jumping out of the way to avoid Twilight’s crashing hooves. “Whoa, slow down! I’m right here!” He held up his claws to stop the charging unicorn. Twilight reared up to slow herself, the momentum of her mad dash sending ripples through the mist. Once she had calmed down, she lowered her head to Spike’s. “Where are we?” she muttered, as if the vines could hear her. Another voice answered. “You should be able to recognize a nightmare by now, Twilight Sparkle.” Two sets of eyes stared at the newcomer. There had only been air before, but now there stood Princess Luna, spread wings keeping the smog at bay. “Princess?” quavered Spike. “Princess, what’s going on?” Twilight continued his thought. “This doesn’t seem like the nightmares I usually have.” Subconsciously she drew Spike closer to herself. “And, to be honest, I’m not sure why you’re helping me with them, not with… everything that’s going on.” Luna was impassive as always, offering only a single shake of her head and monotone response. “This is not your dream.” At a whisper from the princess, the clouds parted. Atop a mountain of moss before them burned golden lances of light. Through the lashing vines, Spike and Twilight caught glimpses of a dirty white coat and a mane that was choked with thistles and thorns. Another lance scorched away the vines, and they saw Celestia, hooves entangled and wings bleeding from razor cuts, for a split second before the Wilder closed in around her again. Twilight tried to call out, but the distance between them grew immeasurably vast as she spoke, and her words died in the smoke. The earth itself seemed to shift, pulling Celestia away. “Celestia!” Spike’s cry didn’t make it, either. Already the smog was thickening. He pulled his feet free of the boggy ground to chase after her, but strong wings held him back. “Save your strength. She has fought this nightmare many times before; believe me when I say this is by far the least severe.” Luna took a half-step forward, pushing Spike away from the struggling princess. A few golden sparks still shone through the smog, and Luna watched with tired eyes. Twilight took her dragon’s side, her eyes ablaze as she yelled “We can’t just stand by while she’s in pain!” “I have, for years.” Luna drew in a sharp breath, her exhalation sending spirals curling through the mist. “They torment her. Even still, she tells me to help the others, to guide the nightmares away from foals instead of saving her.” Finally she looked at Spike and Twilight. “Even if she would let me, I doubt I have the strength to deliver her from her terrors. As I said, this is the least of her nightmares.” Vines bent away from Luna as she began to circle Twilight and Spike, the dragon now wringing his claws. “The Wilder she can fight. It hurts her, it makes her scream in the night, but it is an enemy she can face with fire and magic.” Spike heard a muffled shout through the smog. “Uh, it doesn’t seem like she’s winning.” He wanted to run to save her, but the mists felt as impenetrable as brick walls now. Luna shook her head slowly. “No. She does not win. But at least in this dream she does not have to see the broken bodies of her soldiers, or smell the smoke rising from ravaged villages.” Her knees wobbled a bit as she sat down. “She does not have to explain to parents why their children must go far away to fight an enemy that will not die. In that small aspect, this dream is better than her waking life.” Twilight gathered Spike closer to her as she asked “Then why did you bring us here? If you can’t save her…” “I can’t.” Luna stood up, her joints visibly aching from years of battle and little sleep. “You will.” Twilight looked into her eyes, deep and dark as oceans. “You will save her, or else you will fail and be lost to us again.” She traced a pattern in the muddy earth, black moss shriveling away from her hoof. “But not here. Twilight, our armies have sought for twenty-three years to destroy the source of this abomination you created. It is time for you to try.” Twilight stepped closer. “How? If can’t help her in her dreams, I certainly can’t help her while I’m…” She glanced at Spike. “While we’re in prison.” A strained smile crept across Luna’s face. “Twilight, you have always been exceptionally resourceful—though I do wish you had not used that skill to doom the world. You two will think of something.” The dream started to fall away from Twilight, fading as they woke. “Perhaps a gifted mare and a loyal dragon will succeed where cannons failed. Go into the darkness. Stop the Wilder.” She turned to face them, and for a fraction of an instant her wings gathered them both into a hug. “Why else would I have placed you in the same cell?” Twilight shuddered awake, memories of bladed branches clouding her thoughts. Nestled in her forelegs, Spike stirred as well. “Ih sink…” Twilight lifted Spike’s face out of her chest fluff so he wouldn’t be muffled. “I think the princess just told us to pull off a jailbreak.” 7: The Jailbreak“And I thought hooves on a chalkboard sounded bad.” Claws screeched against stone as Spike sharpened his talons. Twilight tried to cover her ears; that awful noise could wake the dead, and she knew all about that sort of thing. “Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly been keeping them in digging shape recently,” Spike replied. Twilight’s magic had reverted him to a child’s body, but his skills remained. He could move mountains when he was full-grown—he only needed to move a few walls now. Finally, he stopped, satisfied by his claws’ razor edges. He was ready. The magic restrictor had fallen off last night in a haze of Luna’s sorcery, leaving Twilight ready as well. She couldn’t teleport through enchanted dungeon walls, but at least she could cast a spell to keep the sound from reaching the guards. Unfortunately, it only made it louder for her. “Let’s go, Spike.” The dragon’s eyes blazed as he turned to the wall, little arms cycling like jackhammers against the rock. Crashes echoed off the sphere of the silencing spell as Spike pushed further. Millennia of practice let him move through stone like a fish in water—a very loud fish. “Halfway there!” he shouted. Twilight couldn’t hear him. A few dozen more strikes, and the final barrier broke, leaving a hole barely big enough for a unicorn to squeeze past. Relieved, Twilight dropped her spell. Her relief dissipated when she tried to fit through the hole. “Hnng! Hnrk!” Hooves and legs strained to push her belly to the other side. “Oh, sorry. I, um, remember you being less fat.” Quietly this time, Spike removed a few more bricks to widen the breach. Twilight gasped as she flopped out of the cell, dumping her into one of the dungeon’s outer corridors. “Less fat?” Spike twiddled his thumbs. “I mean, since I was so big, and you were so small, it’s just… you know…” The clip-clop of approaching guards stopped Spike’s ramblings. Mare and dragon ran for cover, but the guards turned a corner before they saw the hole in the wall. It seemed that Luna had changed their patrol routes as well. Once the guards hoofsteps receded, Spike levered himself out of his trash-can hiding spot and muttered “You think she could have just let us out the front door.” “Something tells me that wouldn’t go over well with the civilians.” Twilight pointed towards faded graffiti painted on the bricks. The guards had half-heartedly tried to clean it up, but it still clearly depicted the former Princess Twilight and the thorned Wilder tentacles she had summoned in an unsavoury position. Some other artist had scrawled “Serves her right” beside it, along with several profanities she hoped Spike didn’t know. On second thought, she shouldn’t have drawn attention to it. Slightly shaken, the duo crept along the stone floor, past crates and cages and snoring soldiers. Apparently, most of the dungeons had been repurposed as stockpiles for ammunition and armor. Spike felt the ghost of a sneeze in his sinuses, and silently prayed that he wouldn’t snort fire near the grenades. A flash of magic lifted a spare soldier’s cloak onto Twilight, and another wrapped Spike in a scrap of camouflage canvas. It wasn’t much, but anything helped. Slowly, slowly, with pricked ears and cautious hooves, the pair made their way out of the cell block. Small geodes glowed on the walls, flameless lights which Twilight dimly remembered inventing a few thousand years ago and which Spike dimly remembered were delicious. The further they went, the louder it grew. Industrial hammers crashed in rhythm, shaking the foundations of the castle as they built whatever metal monsters the engineers could dream up. At least it made sneaking around easier. “Hey, Twi?” Spike whispered, only to have to shout, “Hey! Twi!” A nudge on the flank got her attention. Over the din, he shouted “There’s a way out!” Eager to escape the noise, Twilight rushed for the exit. It was only a small hole in the wall, blasted open by an explosives accident, but there was light and fresh air at the end of it. Or at least, fresher air. As she slid through, the stink of molten steel assaulted her and she spilled out onto a vast factory floor. Only a hasty spell protected her ears from rupture as machines slammed against the ground. There was no sun, and no moon, just the flames of the melting torches and greasy clouds, gathering so black and thick they blotted out Canterlot. At least the haze kept anypony from noticing the two new arrivals. Dodging railway cars of slag, Twilight and Spike maneuvered through the urban sprawl, inching closer to the cliff at the edge of Canterlot. Old as she was, Twilight never could forget the times she looked out from these heights, seeing endless green fields and tall trees rippling in the wind, water sparkling as it fell. Not anymore. The river was dirty and brackish and steaming-hot from reactor overflow, the fields a chessboard of withered farms, and the trees… they still rippled, but the wind had nothing to do with it. Sometimes, they walked a little closer. “Uh, hey, Twilight?” She shook herself from her reverie. “Yeah?” “How are we going to get down?” Spike kicked a broken gear off the cliff, counting the seconds as it fell. “I’ll fly you, of… course.” The holes where her wings once were twanged as she tried to use them. Spike sighed and rubbed his own back. A runt once more. Of course, he was a very daring runt. “Twi, you know how you always told me zip-lining was too dangerous, and that someday I’d bash my skull open on the rocks?” The unicorn chuckled. “Not like you ever listened to me. That was before you were big enough to headbutt all the rocks you wanted. Why?” “Well…” Spike slid a crossbolter out from his improvised cloak, a grappling hook already loaded. “Spike, where did you get that?” Twilight ran a pastern over the nasty weapon, the bastard son of a crossbow and a harpoon gun. It was meant to be mounted on a turret and fired by hoof, but Spike’s claws let him shoot it on his own. “They’re making them on that assembly line over there. Why, do you want one?” He twirled the thing a little too close to Twilight’s nose. “Um, no, that’s… that’s very unsafe. You want to zip-line down from Canterlot with rope that’s scorched in a hundred places, with a weapon I know you’ve never fired before, without any safety equipment?” “Hey, you only live twice. Unless you’ve got any better ideas…” Twilight stomped a hoof. “Just let me think for a moment…” “Hey, is that the guards I hear? Guess they must have finally caught on.” Spike eagerly cocked the crossbolter—by the time these were invented, he was already too huge to hold one, but he felt like he had a good general grasp of the concept. Point and shoot. Try not to die. “F… fine.” A unicorn’s scream pierced the air, and for a moment the guards wondered who could howl louder than the grinder machines.
1: Bad DreamsThe machine gurgled as it sucked away their magic, brass pumps leeching Discord and Twilight. It gorged itself. It squealed as pipes filled with sacrificed life. It was not enough. Knives cut through sinew, separated bone from bone. Wings fell useless to the floor, forgotten in the chaos. She was mortal, now. And Discord was dead. “Twilight! Twilight!” “She’s not waking up! Applejack, set her down!” The earth pony heard Spike and gently lowered Twilight off her back, Rarity’s magic helping to lift the unicorn down. She was sleeping, but she was not resting. Her body twisted as remembered pain traced her nerves, each jolt flexing her limbs into new and agonizing positions. “Hold her legs or she’s going to hurt herself! Or, no, don't! Just...!” Spike didn’t know if that was what you were supposed to do during a seizure. He just knew he had to do something. “Twilight, it’s okay! We’re alright!” He ducked just in time to dodge a bolt of lilac magic. She was casting in her sleep. “Twilight, I’m here!” His little hands wrapped themselves around his friend, hoping to surround her with as much love as he could. Together, their bodies quaked. Twilight threw her neck back, howled at the sky, and gnashed her teeth. “Twilight!” Her head fell into Spike’s arms. Her breath slowed. Her eyes opened. “Spike?” “It’s okay. We’re here. We’re all here.” One by one, the once-dead girls came close to nuzzle Twilight, each warm touch filling her with a little of the strength she lost in the storm. One more ragged breath. A few more sniffles. She was getting better. “Come on, sugarcube. Let’s get you back on my back and the heck outta Dodge.” Applejack crouched down and waited for her. With Pinkie’s help, Twilight staggered to her feet. “No, I don’t want to be a…” Her knees crumpled under her. “Missy, you’re a burden I am more than happy to carry. Now swallow that pride and get on me ‘fore I make Pinkie sing her ‘I-Thought-We-Were-Dead-But-We’re-Not’ song again.” The other girls grimaced. Five thousand years in a grave had not worked wonders for Pinkie’s musical abilities. With considerable help, Twilight clambered onto Applejack. She seemed fine just a few hours ago, when Spike and the girls saw her for the first time in five millennia, but her adrenaline had worn off, and now she was feeling the pain of missing wings and a magical vacuum pump stealing most of her spirit. Fluttershy had done her best to bind her injuries, but vines and leaves were no substitute for real bandages. Whenever he hugged her, Spike could feel the squelch of bleeding wounds where her wings used to be. He had hugged her a lot recently. Every time Applejack carried her, she fell asleep. Every time she fell asleep, she had the same nightmare. And every time, Spike was there to comfort her. It was slowing them down, this constant start-scream-stop-hug-start-again. The forest seemed no thinner than when they first set out from the ruined cottage, and the night was no brighter. If not for Spike’s dragonfire-lit torches, they would barely be able to see the ground in front of them. “Do you suppose the forest has grown in our… absence?” Rarity chimed in, her refined accent an odd contrast to the muddy crag they were walking through. Fluttershy answered. “It certainly seems like it. Oh, I hope we’re out of here soon. It’s very dark, and… eep!” The pegasus gave a little yelp as she saw a spindly shadow. “Oh, don’t worry, Flutterbutter! I’m sure that shadow that looks exactly like a twelve-foot-tall poisonous spider is just a scraggly old tree!” Pinkie bounced her way ahead of the group to check, then bounced back. “Well, Pinkie, what is it?” “It’s actually about ten feet tall, and I don’t know if it’s poisonous. It does have fangs, though!” It took the girls a moment to realize what Pinkie meant. It took three seconds for them to bolt a hundred feet away. “Are y’all… alright?” Applejack panted, Twilight still slumbering atop her withers. A halo of Rarity’s magic had kept the unicorn in place during the escape. “No boo-boos here!” answered Pinkie, bubbly as ever. Fluttershy took a few deep breaths. “I’m… I’m scared. But I think I’m okay.” “Spider’s definitely lost our trail.” Rainbow reported in from above, watching the skies from her hiding place in the treetops. “We lost him a few hundred yards back.” Spike was next. “I’m fine, too. And, uh, you can put me down, Rarity.” “Oh, sorry, dear.” She let the baby dragon slide off her back. “Did any branches smack you in…” “I told you, I’m fine. Thanks for carrying me out of there.” He waddled over to Applejack and Twilight. Much as he hated to admit it, his stubby legs made him quite the liability in a chase. He brushed a claw over Twilight’s fur, and could have sworn she cracked a little smile when he did. For now, she was sleeping soundly. “Huh. Guess all it took was a poisonous spider on our tail.” “Venomous.” He barely heard her whisper. “Twi? Are you awake?” “Venomous.” Her mouth scarcely moved as she spoke, and Spike was half-sure she was talking in her sleep. “‘Poisonous’ is only if its flesh or skin is toxic. If it has toxic fangs, it’s venomous.” Her eyes finally opened. “You should know better, Spike. I’m sure I made you take a zoology test sometime.” Spike started to frown, but he couldn’t stop his lips lifting into a smile. “Yeah, I’m sure you did.” “Are you all a-okay, Twilight? I hope you are, because you were really scaring us, or as Rarity would say ‘giving us an awful fright, dearest,’ but it looks like…” “Yes, Pinkie. I’m okay.” Fluttershy came in for a nuzzle. “No more bad dreams?” Twilight hesitated. “A… a little. But getting better.” “Better enough to get off my back?” Applejack craned her neck to look at the pony she was carrying. “Not that I want to rush ya, but my legs are getting awful cramped after that little rodeo.” “I can take her!” Pinkie slid next to Applejack and waited as Twilight crawled over onto her. She might not be a farm girl, but she was an earth pony, and she was strong. “Thanks. No bouncing though, Pinkie. I don’t know if my spine could take it.” So the girls set off, Spike striving to keep pace and Rainbow Dash watching from the sky for any venomous—or poisonous—monsters. “The trees are thinning out! We’re almost there!” Rainbow had scouted ahead again, zipping back and forth between the girls and her lookout locations. “Thank heavens! This swamp is mayhem for my complexion, and I doubt it can be doing Twilight much good, either!” Rarity’s magic reapplied her friend’s bandages while they trotted. If only I had my needle and thread, I could stitch that wound up, but alas, the afterlife truly did not let you take it with you. “I’m okay, Rarity. Just not okay enough to walk, I guess. Sorry.” She jiggled gently as Pinkie trotted with her on her back. “Oh, hush, dear. You’ve done so much for us. Especially… recently.” “About that… you don’t remember anything from when you were gone?” Applejack snorted. “You can say dead, sugarcube. And no, we don’t. I’m sure you would love to write it down in one of your research notebooks, but I can’t recall much of anything between you hugging me as I coughed up my lungs in the hospital and you hugging me again in the ruins of that there cottage.” She adjusted her hat as she thought. “Sure been an awful lot of hugging going on.” “It’s not that, I just wanted to know… if it hurt you. Being ripped back to life like that… I’m sorry.” Fluttershy saw the tears creeping out of her eyes and reached her wing over to her. “Oh, don’t cry, Twilight. We know you meant well… even if…” She caught herself and shut her mouth. Discord had offered her immortality, all those years ago. She’d refused it then, and she wasn’t so sure she wanted a new life now. But this was not the time for anger. Fluttershy’s friends needed her, needed her alive and comforting. That mattered more, she reminded herself. The others always mattered more. A shout from Rainbow derailed her train of thought. “Hey, does that look like Cloudsdale to you?” “Quiet, Rainbow! We don’t want yer voice drawin’ any more of them…” Applejack stopped as she lifted her head to look. Now that the branches had finally cleared, they could see it. Hovering over their heads sat the largest airship they had ever seen. More of a city than a blimp, the ship was a stormy mass of gray clouds and muted rainbows, a floating foundation upon which stood barracks, guard towers, artillery emplacements, and concrete barricades. Illuminated by harsh arc lamps, it did look almost like Cloudsdale. If Cloudsdale were made of gunmetal and barbed wire. Twilight watched the ship slowly change course. Even from below, she could see the flurry of activity aboard the vessel. Thunderhead cannons crackled with electricity as pegasi scurried over the flying fortress, hauling lightning cloud munitions to and fro, checking the pressure valves, drilling for battle. And aiming those cannons at her. Twilight flinched as a magically-amplified voice boomed from the sky. “Twilight Sparkle, this is Captain Muzzle Flash of the Royal Armada. By order of Princess Celestia, you are under arrest.” Author's Note In case you were wondering, Spike was wrong. You should not hold a person down during a seizure. Also, please don't take medical advice from a My Little Pony fanfic.
2: Under SiegeA squadron of pegasi descended from the airship, gray flak jackets making them almost ghostly in the moonlight. Twilight was too stunned to speak, but Applejack raised her voice. “Now, what’s going on here? Hey! Treat the princess with some respect!” Her shouts went unanswered as the soldiers slipped a magic-restraining ring on Twilight’s horn. From atop Pinkie’s back, Twilight could see the farm pony’s muscles tensing, preparing to buck. “No, Applejack. Let them. I’ll be fine.” “Fine? These highfalutin ponies with their magic whatsits and their…” “It’ll be okay, Applejack.” She nuzzled Pinkie’s neck, and the party pony let her slide off her. “I suppose it’s time for me to deal with… what I did.” She started toward the armed pegasi, but a claw on her hind leg held her back. “Spike, I’ll be fine.” She tried to comfort him with her voice, but she knew he had been doing most of the comforting recently. “You keep saying that, Twilight. I’m not sure I believe it.” “Don’t worry, Spike…” She caught herself before she said I’ll be fine again. Fluttershy’s quiet voice broke in. “Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, but who are these ponies?” Twilight and Spike answered at the same time. “Equestrian Royal…” Spike apologized. “Oops, sorry.” Twilight continued. “The Royal Armada, Equestria’s sky navy. They weren’t around at the time you… departed.” A sable pegasus stepped forward. “Well, if you girls are done with the chit-chat, the captain would like a word with you.” He wasn’t as professional as the guards Twilight was used to. At once, the other soldiers flew closer and wrapped their hooves around the girls, one of them grabbing Spike. Another magic restrainer went on Rarity. “Why, I never! Don’t you know who we are?” The white unicorn shouted as burly forelegs hoisted her into the sky. “Can’t say I do, ma’am. Only one I recognize is the Lost Princess.” Rarity opened her mouth for a question, but the sudden burst of speed stole her words. The flight up to the airship was brief, though the thunderhead cannon trained on them made it somewhat disconcerting. As they flew, the guards wrapped some sort of copper coil around their captives’ hooves. “I don’t have wings, you know. I can’t walk on… clouds!” Rarity yelped as the pegasus dropped her onto the airship. Reflexively, she kicked her legs back and forth, trying to stay aloft. As she discovered when she smashed her knee disgracefully into the cloud, she did not need to try. “Huh?” Rarity felt a faint tingle around her hooves, and looked down to see the copper coil glowing faintly. “You’re not the only groundpounders aboard. We’ve got earth pony mechanics, unicorns manning the shields—’course we got cloudwalking charms for you.” Rarity looked up to see a guard giggling at her predicament. A scowl silenced him. “Well.” She picked herself up, brushed away the cloud dust with her mane, and tried to pretend that never happened. Around Rarity, Applejack and the others touched down as well, their landings notably less dramatic than hers. Rainbow threw off the guard’s forelegs as soon as she could. “You know, I could have flown here myself.” “Yes, I’m sure you could have, ma'am.” “Well, I’m flying now, and there’s nothing you can do…” “Ma’am, there are three crossbolters aimed at your current location. As we speak, the gunners are bringing that number up to six. If you do not settle down, a thunderhead might find itself pointing in your direction, as well.” Rainbow Dash settled down. The sable guard suppressed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know who these ponies were, but anyone who traveled with the Lost Princess was certain to be dangerous. If not for Celestia’s direct orders, he’d had bombarded them all from above before sending marines to pick up the ashes. Trotting in on gangly legs, a mottled gray pegasus with a too-large helmet disrupted his destructive fantasy. She tried to hide it, but she couldn’t mask the squeak in her voice as she spoke. “Captain says he’ll see them now, sir.” A nod of the head later, the guards and the captives marched down the path to the command bunker. The corridor was as bleak as the rest of the fortress, all gray and concrete and joyless. A few posters peeled from the walls, printed propaganda pieces made by the millions. Twilight read the slogans as she passed. Your Home, Your Duty: Fly High in the Royal Armada. Bravery: It’s the Equestrian Way. Every Pony Plays Their Part. The washed-out colors of that last poster showed young fillies and colts—little older than children—working in some vast factory, assembling what could only be war machines. Twilight shuddered, half from the poster, half from blood loss. Spike would have done anything to be by her side, but he and the girls had been separated from each other, a guard dividing each pony from one another. He could see stick grenades in their chest pouches, wooden handles jutting out close to their mouths for ease of throwing. “I liked the shiny ones better.” Pinkie’s voice threw a wrench into the military precision of the affair. “You know, the shiny uniforms that you could see your face in?” Pinkie took a close look at her guard’s steel-gray helmet—a bit too close of a look, if the hoof pushed her away was any indication. “Haven’t worn those for ages, ma’am. I take it you’ve been away for a long time?” Twilight cut in. “You have no idea.” Rarity’s eyes widened as an idea struck her. “Oh, my! We have been gone for ages! Whatever does that mean for fashion! Is my mane in style? Quickly, guard, do you have the latest couture magazines on hoof?” “Only magazines we have around here are the ammo mags in the arsenal, ma’am.” The mottled pegasus spoke up, her voice bright as a firefly compared to the other guard’s growl. “Sir, I think Grape Shot has some—” The guard blushed. “We do not talk about those magazines in mixed company, Windlass.” Windlass’s ears flattened to her skull. Something seemed off about her, but Twilight couldn’t quite say what. Other than the flak jacket and the grenades, of course. Twilight hadn’t been very concerned with military affairs while she was trying to cure Spike—could a mobilization as major as this really have slipped beneath her nose? This airship dwarfed anything the Armada had, at least that she could remember. “The captain’s through there, ma’am.” Twilight noticed a grimace on Windlass’s face as she walked through the door. Two guards followed her. She waited for the others to come, but the door slammed shut behind her, making her jump with a start. She felt something pop as her wing wounds reopened, and a little gasp escaped her lips. If the captain noticed, he didn’t care. The black-furred pegasus stood hunched over a map, his forelegs on the table. Graying locks of auburn mane flowed from under his captain’s hat, joined by a short but bushy beard on his jaw. Behind him, the three windows showed nothing but thick slabs of armor covering the glass. Twilight’s gaze darted through the room, hoping to find something to explain what was going on. A few model ships, a dartboard, a voicepipe— “So, the Lost Princess finally comes home. Welcome to the HMS Thunderchild.” The captain’s voice could only be called a rumble. Twilight wondered if he had swallowed a storm cloud as a colt. “You keep calling me that. What does it mean?” Muzzle Flash took a moment to mark a course correction on his map, then turned to face Twilight. “Ms. Sparkle, do you know what year it is?” “Of course. 4977 of Luna’s Return.” She hadn’t been in the Everfree that long, had she? He shook his head. “That’s the date of your disappearance, Twilight. The year we lost you, and all this madness began.” He paused to shout orders through the voicepipe. Apparently, the bilge needed pumping. “Twilight, it’s 5000 LR. You’ve been gone twenty-three years.” Discord did something, skipped ahead to get to the stellar alignment. In the confusion, the storm—she could be forgiven for a lapse in memory. “Things have not gone entirely well in your absence.” The captain gestured to a guard. A pull of a lever later, the blast shields over the windows folded away. Twilight trotted over to him, careful not to strain her wounds any more. Before them stretched acres of black earth, a few more airships visible in the distance. Twisted trees sprawled all around. “I don’t understand.” “Look closer.” Twilight started to cast a magnification spell, until she remembered the magic restrainer. She squinted instead. “There’s something on the ground, something dark. The trees look scraggly, I guess, but I don’t see how that’s unusual. Is it—” Her eyes widened. The ground wasn’t just black. It was breathing. Clumps of earth rose and fell in the unmistakable rhythm of a living thing, sending quivers through the thorny grass. The trees weren’t blowing in the wind. Judging from the rising smoke from the airships, there was no wind. Yet the branches waved nonetheless, reaching out for her. Suddenly, Twilight was very glad she was in the air. Muzzle Flash’s voice reverberated next to her. “We’ve been keeping it contained from up here, but we can’t stop the spreading. It’s eating our villages, scorching trails through our farms… Frankly, I have no idea how you even got out of the forest alive.” Twilight looked dazed, as if she had just learned she had to take a test she never studied for. “Ms. Sparkle, Equestria is under siege, and Princess Celestia believes you’re to blame.” Author's Note Yes, I know that in America, "soldier" only refers to someone in the Army. However, this is the Equestrian Royal Armada, which works a bit differently. Since the living earth (the Wilder) restricts ground travel, airships became essential to all branches of the armed forces; hence, the Armada eventually became the dominant branch, enveloping the Army. "Soldiers" are those members of the Armada that specialize in close combat, whereas "skycolts/skymares" are the pegasi tasked with running the ship, manning the guns, etc.
3: Lost PrincessDrops of sweat sizzled on Celestia’s brow as she raised the sun to start the day. She had had no time to rest last night. Her wings still ached, immortal muscles knotting themselves under her skin. To fly all night, and still to fail… Softly, with silent steps as always, her sister came up behind her and began to preen her feathers. For a moment, Celestia let her, closing her eyes as Luna’s warm lips pushed pinions back into place, plucking out a few broken ones. But she could not let her spend so much time on her. She shook her head, Luna feeling the movement. Her sister gave her one last brush, exhaled one more breath into her feathers before she lifted her neck away. “Sister…” “Luna, you shouldn’t. You know a simple spell will do as well to fix my wings. It’s sunrise. You need to sleep.” “Can you blame me for wanting to make my sister feel a little better?” She tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “You’re tired, and I know your duties drain you. Our people need you to watch their dreams at night, so sleep in the day.” She extended a wing and pulled Luna close for a hug, necks rubbing against each other as big sister enveloped little. Her pastel mane was weary and did not billow with magic like it once did, but it was still long and warm and, if Luna breathed deep, still smelled like sunlight. The hug almost sent Luna to sleep, but she managed to lift her mouth to Celestia’s ear and breathe “I promise you’ll have sweet dreams soon.” If Luna’s eyes were open, she would see Celestia’s smile. As it was, she only felt her sister’s strong legs carrying her to bed, and her lips caressing her forehead with one more kiss. Celestia lifted one leg in front of the other as she left Luna’s room, too tired to do anything that could properly be called walking or trotting. Shambling was more like it. Another airship had sunk that night. It was growing more aggressive, and if the reports were true, the lost crew would not even have peace once the Wilder took them. She sighed, a long sigh that came from strained vocal cords. A shapeless halo formed around her horn as she fixed her feathers. She was correct: the spell worked. It was functional. But it was not beautiful. Nothing was anymore. Acting on autopilot, her hooves took her up into her study—no, not her study, her war room. That was its name now. She remembered the frantic days here, more than two decades ago. The letters she wrote, the orders she sent. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest. Report sightings to Canterlot Castle. She had been optimistic, then. Twilight went on journeys all the time. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest. Reward offered for information leading to her safe return. Surely she was only grieving. Celestia could understand the need to hide away for a while after a loss. Stars knew she had wanted to, after Luna’s banishment. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest. May be unstable; approach with caution. Reward offered for information leading to her safe return. She was strong. Celestia knew that. Very strong. She was proud she chose her as her student. Not like the ones that turned on her. Twilight would never do that. Princess Twilight Sparkle, missing near the Everfree Forest, presumed renegade. Engage with extreme caution; subject is magically trained and dangerous. Report any sightings to Canterlot High Command. Every expedition, every search party… nothing. Till the war dragged on too long, too bloody for her to waste any more ponies looking for a princess who didn’t want to be found. Celestia might have cried, but Equestria did not need a weeping princess. It needed a leader. And so, with heavy hooves and heavier heart, she began to plan the day. She did not plan for a breathless pegasus to flop into her war room, letter clenched in her teeth. Her lost princess was coming home.
4: Ancient HistoryA lone deer crept over the blackness, careful to place its hooves on the few scraps of safe ground he could find. He was injured, Twilight thought, something sickly oozing from his eyes. Still the buck staggered on, hoping for a way out. Another step, a quick jump. A pause to catch his breath, a glance at the undulating ground. Quickly, a dodge to the side. Not quick enough. He fell. He struggled. He succumbed. Black vines reached for him. Twilight put down the spyglass before she saw what happened next. Wordless, she passed it back to the captain. He was unfazed by the experience, taking advantage of the lull in conversation to light a pipe. “We call it the Wilder.” Twilight barely heard him, her mind still somewhere down below, in that blackness. Her head shook. “Huh? The wilderness?” “No, just Wilder.” She felt the floor move underneath her. It could be the airship changing course, or it could be her own nausea. It could be her memories of the living dirt that ate the deer. She needed someone to talk to, someone real, not another pony from the mad world she’d stepped into. She needed… “I want my dragon.” “Spike, you mean? That little beastie… I used to hear stories about him, the great worm of the—” “He’s not a beastie.” Flash coughed out a stream of smoke as Twilight glared at him. He knew the ring on her horn would block her magic, but still, he could swear something sparked in the air. “And he’s not a story, either. He’s my friend. They all are.” She took a deep breath, and the air cleared. Of course there were no sparks. No one could defeat a magic suppressor, could they? “Where are they?” she asked, purple eyes watching the drifting airships. “They’ve not been harmed, if that’s what you want to know. My troops escorted them to the brig.” One of the guards in the room stepped closer to the captain and muttered something. “… though it seems your orange friend was a bit reluctant to go. We had to restrain her.” Twilight’s jaw clenched, spitting out one word at a time. “Her name. Is Applejack.” Muzzle Flash wasn’t intimidated. “Yes, yes, Applejack. I think I remember that name from history class, way back when. Saw her on a stained-glass window when my class took a field trip. She’s Loyalty, right?” “Honesty.” Another word spat out. “Apologies. It’s been awhile since we used the Elements. Most of our problems are solved with artillery now.” Twilight didn’t try to hide her snort. And I see that’s been working well for you. “So you forget the saviors of Equestria?” He paused to adjust his pipe, concealing his sigh as he did so. “Look. Do you recall who built the Saddle Arabian pyramids?” Twilight sat down on her haunches. “Of course. Amenhaytep II laid the foundation, and his successor Amen…” The captain chuckled and breathed out smoke. “Forgot you were a bookworm. Point is, your girls are as far back in our past as the pyramids were in yours when you were a filly. They’re ancient history—” He caught the rising ire in her eyes “—and they’re important, but you can’t expect an Armada flyboy just out of military school to recognize them.” Another smoke ring spun from his mouth. “Some of these colts are just kids to me. Princess knows they shouldn’t be here, but they are. That’s what war does, Twilight.” His grip tightened on his pipe till Twilight thought he’d snap it. Then as quick as it came, it stopped. “As I was saying, Spike’s the only one who lived into our present epoch, and even he spent all of his time in that castle of yours, doing Harmony knows what.” Twilight’s face flinched. Yes, she’d kept him there so she could cure him, but surely he’d had some sort of life outside of her attempts to prolong it. Didn’t he? “Well.” She wasn’t looking at him now, instead staring out the window, watching the Wilder wave its branches. Maybe somewhere down there the deer had risen to its feet and bounded away in time. Maybe. She’d done this, hadn’t she? You can’t take someone back from death without something else following. “Be that as it may, I still want my dragon.” “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned to the guard. “Tell the troops Thunderchild is returning to Canterlot a hair ahead of schedule.” Rarity did not know exactly what to expect after her… return. Perhaps the old princesses would invite her to the castle for a grand party to celebrate? Certainly they would get Pinkie to plan it, she had supposed on the march out of the forest. Or perhaps, she imagined, she would walk out of the woods into a strange and wonderful world, so different than before. Perhaps she would go on adventures with her old friends, just like they used to. Not that she particularly enjoyed those adventures, mind. Too much camping, and too few chances to restock her makeup supplies. Once, she had to use regular dirt and water to make her mud facial. The horror. No, Rarity truly did not know where her new life would take her. She did not expect it to take her behind bars in an airship brig, however. And in solitary, no less! The floors were solid concrete; everything was solid here, except for the ragged-looking scrap of cloud that served as a bed. A few lamps hung from the ceiling, flickering in rhythm with the humming of the engines. If Pinkie were here, she’d certainly find some way to turn it into a song. Pinkie always did brighten up a room. And if Rainbow were here, she’d be digging through the concrete, already scheming up an escape plan. Rarity suppressed a chortle. More likely, Rainbow would try to copy an escape plan from one of those prison movies she always watched—that or ask herself “What would Daring Do do?” She’d missed them, wherever she was. Rarity still wasn’t sure what had happened to her, exactly. A hospital, a room with too many pillows, some frankly abominable food… It was all a blur. Then a flash, and then Twilight. What happened in between was anypony’s guess. Then the airship, and now this. The brig. Everypony seemed to assume she should know why she was in here. Rarity remembered being disciplined as a foal, then being asked what she had done wrong. She certainly didn’t know! Well. Whatever was going on, she was quite sure she didn’t like it. Any escape plan would go better if she could establish a rapport with the guard… “Excuse me, darling, do you know how long this will be?” The guard outside, Windlass if Rarity recalled correctly, shrugged her shoulders. “Not really sure. Muzzle…” She stopped herself and stood up straighter. Rarity could hear her trying to deepen her voice, trying to sound like a soldier. “No, ma’am. The Captain will take all the time he needs.” “Any idea where this fine ship is headed?” “A soldier does not discuss troop movements with captives, ma’am.” Right out of a drill manual. Rarity sighed and slumped back, letting the cloud bed support her. The copper coil on her hoof sparked a little. The mare outside her door wasn’t always so gruff. Before, she had been almost excited, like a… like a filly eager to please her parents. How old was Windlass, anyway? Now, she was trying to be a soldier. Was that the term? A skymare? A marine? The light was dim, but bright enough for Rarity to see a black insignia on Windlass’s flak jacket. Think, Rarity, think! Is that a skymare rank badge? Ensign, maybe? Oh, if only you had finished reading Sailor’s Succor, you would know this! Rarity half-blushed as she recalled that particular romance series. It was literary trash, but at least it involved sailors, and it seemed like the Royal Armada had the same rank system. “Excuse me, again?” Windlass didn’t react. “I just wanted to know, what should I call you?” Her response was curt. “Skymare Windlass of the HMS Thunderchild, serial number 6780132.” Rarity had seen that face before on performers and actors in a play. It was the face of a mare wearing a mask. She had made it for herself, Rarity guessed, and it had served her well. The mask covered her youthful face with a frown, obscured her trembling upper lip with its heavy layer of military routine. It was ugly mask, and not a mask any young mare should wear. “Skymare Windlass, do you know where…” She cut her off. “Why are you with her?” “Say again, darling?” Windlass clenched her jaw. If she called her darling one more time… “With the Princess. The Lost Princess, not the real princesses in Canterlot.” “I beg your pardon? Whatever do you mean, ‘real princesses?’ I know it’s been awhile, but surely Equestria has not forgotten Twilight’s accomplishments…” “Yeah. It hasn’t.” The mask slipped a little, but Rarity didn’t see an eager filly underneath—she saw anger. “I don’t know what she did in that forest, but ever since she disappeared things have been creeping out. There’s magic in the earth now, bad magic.” Shadows cut her face into slices as she stepped closer to the prison bars. “She went in, the Wilder came out. It’s growing over towns and villages and hospitals…” Windlass tried to hide the tremors in her voice, but Rarity could see her shaking knees, could see the mask begin to fall away. “And when the Wilder hits a graveyard…” This was the real Windlass. Just a young mare, little older than Sweetie Belle used to be when she was gallivanting about on her little ‘crusades.’ Windlass was on a real crusade. More than anything Rarity wanted to reach out a comforting hoof and stop the tears she could see forming in the young mare’s eyes. She raised her leg… Windlass knocked it away. “Don’t try to reach outside the bars.” She fixed her mask, strapped it on tighter. Facial features forced themselves back into place behind it. A faint growl emanated from the voicepipe outside the cell. Windlass heard it and fumbled with her keys, almost dropping them on the floor. “Oops, sorry…” She stopped herself, snapping up the keys in her wing. “Orders from the captain. I’m to take you to the other captives. Twilight tried to memorize the layout of the airship, but the ring on her horn muddled with her thoughts. She trotted through cloudy corridors, a bit of fog drifting in from where gunfire had damaged them. It looked like they were in a loading area, judging from the pallets of grenades and supplies. Her eyes caught the flared nostrils of one guard, a subtle tightening of the jaw from another. She was never as gifted a diplomat as Princess Celestia, but she’d read the books and studied the art, and she knew enough to pick up signs of anger. They hated her. If what Muzzle Flash said was true, they had good reason to. Again, she felt the floor move. Somewhere below her, black branches waved in still air. Her friends must be terrified in that brig. She had to be strong, had to be the princess she thought was. Be strong for them. They needed her. They— “Spike!” She tried to leap for him, but the shackles on her hooves hobbled her. Another indignity, but one she had to suffer for the captain to let her be with her friends again. “Mhmmh,” he mumbled through a thick sheet of flame-retardant fabric swaddled over his mouth. The others came single-file behind him, each with their own restraints—Applejack’s looking the least comfortable. Rainbow and Fluttershy both chafed at the chains locked around their wings. Guards surrounded the seven companions, and Twilight couldn’t shake the feeling that there were snipers aimed at them. “What’s going on? Where have you taken us?” Muzzle Flash answered. “It’s a cargo hold. Normally this would be full of explosives, but we’ve been dropping those on the Wilder for a while now. Thunderchild’s heading back to Canterlot now.” He relit his pipe. “I assume there’s a princess there who’s quite interested in hearing you explain yourself.” The girls felt a shudder as engines burned harder. The ship was moving, not just hovering. “I thought I should give you girls a quick lesson on what’s happened since you left, maybe make you understand why my guards give you all the stinkeye.” Muzzle Flash motioned to a unicorn wearing a skymare’s uniform and a copper coil on her hooves. Her horn buzzed with magic, and a holographic map blazed to life near her. It was Equestria, but creeping swathes of slime green, moldy gray, and pitch black spread outward from near the Everfree, stopped only by the golden circle around Canterlot. He stabbed a hoof at the capital. “Gold zones are under the direct protection of the Sisters.” His hoof traced outward to the surrounding fields. “Green zones—a few Wilder attacks, but safe enough for farming. Further out, and you enter the Gray zones; Armada ships can fly over, but the ground is too dangerous.” “And the black zones?” Twilight asked. “Nopony’s gone that far.” Another voice spoke from the shadows. “… and returned in one piece.” “Stop scaring the prisoners, Grape Shot. But yes, he’s right. Black zones are off-limits for good reason.” Another voice butted in. “Should we really be explaining this to wanted criminals?” “Keelhaul, this is all printed on one of the posters outside. It’s not exactly a state secret.” He didn’t turn to face her, but Twilight could tell he was addressing her now. “You’ll have to forgive the guards. Not all of them are old enough to remember what you were before.” Twilight normally didn’t like ponies treating her different just because she was a princess, but it seemed like that earned her at least a morsel of respect. The captain continued, still gesturing at the glowing map. “Now as you can see, those black zones cover an awful lot of Equestrian land. Some of that land used to be villages and hospitals. I don’t know what you did or how you did it, but almost everypony on this ship blames you for it, Twilight. Keep that in mind when you talk to Celestia.” Another gesture, and the unicorn assistant shut off the hologram. “I’ve decided to allow you girls to stay together, since technically, only one of you is a criminal.” He glanced at Applejack. “Actually, only two of you. Either way, it would be better to keep you in one place.” Twilight remembered the bombs that fell from here a moment ago. “And I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that the floor in this room can be dissolved at will, dropping all of us to certain death?” Flash smiled. “Of course not. We have had to take several precautions, though.” Spike gave an angry mmhhmm as he tugged on Twilight’s mane. “Such as preventing your pet dragon from breathing fire.” “He’s not a pet!” Muzzle Flash turned and walked off. “Whatever you say, princess.” The guards shepherded the girls into a tight ring as the airship built up speed.
5: Welcome to CanterlotTwilight’s legs wobbled as the ship suddenly braked for the twelfth time that day. Bits of floor dissolved, making holes for pegasi to carry supply pallets into the hold. If she had to guess, Thunderchild was flying over farms to restock. There were no windows to check, of course, but at least the routine resupply operation had lulled the security guards into a sense of… well, security. They stood a ways away from the girls, helping with the heavier loads. Inch by inch, Rarity crept closer to Twilight, casting conspiratorial glances about the cargo hold. “I haven’t been able to get this accursed ring off my horn, but I’m ready to throw some hooficuffs if it comes to that. Rainbow and I are planning to…” “No.” Twilight’s expression barely changed. “What? These guards do not seem agreeable, and after what they did to poor Spike…” She waited till the guards weren’t looking, then gave him a quick nuzzle. “We’ll get you out of those nasty restraints, dear.” “Rarity, we’ll be in Canterlot soon, and the princesses will sort everything out. Once we’re there, maybe I can… maybe I can fix what I broke. Till then, just play along.” She turned to Spike. “I’m sorry about this, Spike. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Another shudder, heavier than the ones before, passed through the floor. “Hey, what’s goin’ on down there?” exclaimed Applejack. Grape Shot answered. “Final approach to Canterlot.” He stared straight at Twilight. “Time to face the music, princess.” Engines hummed and guards hastened in the corridors as the Thunderchild neared the capital. The cloudwalls opened, giving most of the girls their first look at Canterlot in five thousand years. It was not a good first impression. Canterlot was… different. Which was a polite way of saying ugly. Black smokestacks sprouted like fungus from the mountain, coughing clouds of soot as they fueled strange alchemy. Everywhere, the din of industry pounded, pounded, pounded; carriages rattled as they trundled over cobblestones, their cargo of steel and pig iron jangling with each impact. The princess’s castle had always been a fortress—that is, after all, what castles are for—but a wondrous fortress it was, all gleaming stone and golden-roofed domes. Now, it was shored up by concrete slabs, the once-grand flying buttresses reinforced with gray metal and adorned with machine gun nests. In a ring like a crown of thorns, giant artillery pieces surrounded the city, their muzzles blackened from years of abuse. From the size of the barrels, each one could throw a shell much bigger than a pony. Pinkie couldn’t help but stare.. “Are those industrial-sized party cannons?” Her eyes sparkled as she imagined all the streamers they could fire. Windlass fielded the question. “Haven’t been any party cannons made since your friend brought the Wilder down on us.” She didn’t try to hide her cold stare at Twilight. “Those are just regular cannons. Battle cannons.” Twilight felt a light breeze as Pinkie’s mane deflated. “No… party cannons?” “All manufacturing capacity has been redirected toward military applications. We aren’t going to make anything that shoots confetti if we can make something that shoots lead instead.” She still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Windlass, but the guards pushed Twilight down the airship’s ramp before she could dwell on it further. Muzzle Flash led the party through the dingy streets, narrowly dodging a few supply carriages. Getting off that heavily-guarded ship should have made the girls feel safer, but the crossbolters and sniper towers that cluttered the Canterlot skyline did little to make them feel at home. “Has it really been this nasty for so long?” Rainbow’s wings were still bound, but at least the commotion of the capital let the girls speak freely. Twilight answered with a shake of her head. “Not when I left for the Everfree. Things have changed since then.” Things had changed, indeed. Rounding a corner, they saw foals marching in military ranks and files, all gussied up in junior uniforms with practice grenades in their pockets. Most were blank flanks, but a few sported cutie marks of weapons, factory equipment, or medical instruments. One of the foals carried a flag, a yellow-and-black thing with the block letters Celestia Youth. Another of the young soldiers-in-training recognized Windlass and waved a hoof at her. For a moment, a brief moment, Twilight saw something like a foal greeting a friend, until her drill instructor shouted at her. The child snapped back, eyes forward, legs pounding the cobblestones in martial rhythm. Twilight took advantage of the brief pause to talk to Windlass. “Um, skymare? What was that about? Why are those colts and fillies…” Windlass cut her off. “Somepony has to fight your battles, princess. At least with this training, they’ll be ready when the Wilder overtakes us.” They kept on marching, foals to another lesson in tactics, and the girls to Canterlot’s castle, Spike in tow. “I’m sorry you have to see this,” Twilight said to the others. “I suppose it’s all my fault.” Windlass snorted at that line. Twilight started to continue, but an artillery volley drowned her out. Once she managed to pry her hooves off her ears, she shouted. “What’s going on! Are we under attack?” The guards didn’t even break stride when the guns went off. One of them shook his head. “They fire nearly every day. Alchemists say the blast wave from the impact repels the Wilder—it’s quite a racket, but at least it holds back the darkness.” Slowly, she stood up again. On instinct, she had cowered from imagined shrapnel, but now she could see the guns were pointing out, smoke still rising from their barrels. Some of the shells were still in the air, targeted at black spots on the map, miles away. Twilight staggered forward for a bit, out of sorts and baffled by the world she had created. Rarity took pity on her and tried to distract her. “Excuse me, Twilight, I just have to ask… did your mane ever do the, you know, the thing?” She gestured with a hoof, trying to charade a moving, magical mane. “Did I ever have a mane like Celestia’s?” She giggled. “Yes. Well, not exactly the same. I chose different colors.” Six of them, to be precise. One for each of the girls, and one for Spike. At least Canterlot was not all bad. They were close to the castle’s entrance, and that meant they were close to the statues. Many of them Twilight recognized—politicians from bygone eras, a few magicians she’d studied in magic kindergarten. Still, she only cared about one of them. “Is that you, Spike?” Rarity stopped in the middle of the street when she saw it. Even cloaked with moss and industrial soot, the dragon statue was impressive. Two sets of wings rose from his marble sides, thick arches built to shovel through dirt as easily as flying through air. The masons had even replicated the spiral engravings on this scales. The jewels in his eyes had long since been plucked out to finance the war effort, but a flicker of glory remained in the monolithic dragon, claws long and sharp, fanged mouth full of violent majesty. Yet despite his terrifying natural weapons and armored frame, the sculptors had been sure to remember what made Spike truly different. Around his feet sat happy ponies, warming themselves by the heat from his belly. Colts and fillies, all made of multicolored stone, clambered over his scales, sliding across his wings like they were sledding slopes. Though Spike showed his teeth, he was not barring them to intimidate the weak. No, he was smiling. He was laughing. “Oh, my, Spike. You were magnificent!” Spike couldn’t answer, his mouth still gagged to block his fire, but Twilight noticed a faint blush as Rarity complimented him. Fluttershy gave him a quick feather caress. “He still is, Rarity. Just a little easier to hug, now.” The guards didn’t stop them from touching, a small mercy that made Twilight ever so grateful. Applejack spoke next. “Land’s sake, you really grew that big?” Twilight stepped in front of the statue. “Bigger.” She wore the contented smile of a proud parent. “Our Spike got so big, we needed to get help from the Crystal Empire just to build a cavern that could hold him.” A frown darkened her face. “Of course, that was before the Empire seceded from Equestria.” The statue was so accurate, Twilight could almost see the scales shifting as they ground through the earth, musclebound wings surging in rhythm to bore through rock, drills of fire breath melting away boulders. “As he grew, we learned that Spike’s a rock dragon.” Rainbow piped in. “Like, a digger?” Twilight and Spike nodded in unison. “Maud would have loved that!” exclaimed Pinkie as she tried to figure out how large a cake she would need for a dragon that size. “Hmm? Who’s Maud?” Twilight felt she should know that name, but couldn’t place it. Probably another pony who’d fallen through the cracks of her memory. Before Pinkie could ask a question, the guards dragged them off. “Enough sightseeing.” The castle doors had been stripped of their decoration and covered with armor plates. If that wasn’t enough, sandbags circled every entrance, and rifles poked out of crenelations. Muzzle Flash showed his papers to the palace guards and brought the girls inside. The war had left its mark here, as well. Everything valuable that could be sold had been, leaving a few threadbare tapestries and— Twilight felt an urgent tug at her fetlock. “What is it, Spike?” she whispered. Her eyes followed his pointing claw to Windlass. For a second, she squinted, then saw what he had seen. She tried to cover it with her ammo pouches, but Spike had caught a glimpse of her flank, and now Twilight had, too. It was as blank as a foal’s. That was what was off. Windlass was just a child! She was… just a child. But she was still a soldier. Those schoolfoals, marching under Celestia’s banner… what had happened? What had she done? The girls followed her as Twilight walked on autopilot, eyes wide and glazed over. A sharp snap brought her back to reality. “The princess awaits!” A royal guardsmare, clad in a dull flak jacket like the Thunderchild’s crew, announced her presence. Behind her was another set of double doors, the engraving scratched and scuffed but still familiar—Celestia’s symbol. The doors creaked open, but the guard’s outstretched hoof blocked everypony except Twilight. It seemed she’d have to do this alone, just like she’d been doing everything for the past five millennia. The unicorn gulped and stepped over the threshold. There was no happy reunion, not at first. Just another room with a few signs of blast damage and a window in the wall. She recognized it, or what was left; it used to be a stained-glass masterpiece, two vitreous princesses enveloping the sun and moon in their magic. Now, it was just shattered glass. Twilight heard hoofsteps, heavier than any normal pony’s. Even with the magic restrictor on her horn, she felt power coming around the corner. It was warm, fiery, incendiary. It was Celestia. She let out a long sigh when she saw the princess round the bend. Finally, here was something changeless. Someone she could trust. “Princess, what’s going on? Why is everything… terrible?” For what felt like forever Celestia simply watched her. “I thought I lost you.” Her unsmiling stare slid over the bandages on Twilight’s back. “It seems I already have.” Her body towered over Twilight, even more now that the unicorn had lost her alicorn height. “Princess, have you… the children… surely this isn’t what you want!” Celestia kept staring at the student she’d thought she'd never see again. “What do you mean, Twilight?” She waved a hoof out at the Canterlot streets, where another column of trainee soldiers marched. “Foals! They’re carrying grenades! Princess, please tell me you had nothing to do with this! Tell me you’ve been too busy fighting the Wilder yourself to notice, tell me… tell me anything!” A ragged breath from Celestia. It was true, she was always busy fighting. Shards of lead and steel jutted from her back even now, but she had shifted her armor to hide it. Others needed help more than her. “Princess, you’re sending blank-flanks into battle! Even the guard that brought me here is one!” Celestia cast a quick glance at Muzzle Flash, who hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, it appears we are.” She turned her back to Twilight and looked out the broken window. “What… how can you be okay with this! Windlass is scarcely older than a foal! She’s not a skymare, she’s barely old enough to have her first coltfriend!” Celestia whipped around to face her. “I am not ‘okay with this.’ I am not ‘okay’ with ordering my subjects to plant toxic flowers in their orchards, so the alchemists can brew poison gas for our cannons. I am not ‘okay’ with turning dancers and artists into soldiers.” Every light in the castle flared brighter as Celestia’s mane sparked. Her voice deepened and thundered. “I am not ‘okay’ with the fate of Windlass, my beloved citizen who I am sworn to protect, going into battle without even a mark on her flank to illuminate her destiny.” Suddenly the lanterns dimmed and Celestia dipped her head to Twilight’s. “And were it not for the black thing you have unleashed on my little ponies, I would never have stooped so low. But you have forced me to.” “Twenty-three years we have fought, and were it up to me, my sister and I would have faced the Wilder alone, but the monster you created is too strong for us. We are at war, now.” Her breath felt like scalding steam on Twilight’s face. “Whatever honor I had burned away along with the first village it consumed.” Twilight tried to melt into the flagstone floor. “I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t know. I only wanted…” “You wanted what we cannot have. There is a reason necromancy is forbidden, my most unfaithful student.” Her eyes bored holes in Twilight’s skin, holes far deeper than the wounds where her wings used to be. She blubbered apologies, caught between remorse and fear by that awful, awful gaze. “Princess, I…” “Go.” Her head almost scraping the ground, Twilight limped out of the chamber. The guards followed her, surrounding her with cold steel and regimented precision. She was a captive now. Behind her, the tall door slammed shut. No one could hear it, but off the reinforced walls echoed a few soft sobs from Princess Celestia.
6: Orders from the PrincessBack in Ponyville, Twilight often had nightmares about being banished to the dungeons. She dreamed it was damp and cold down there. She dreamed icehearted wardens would clank along the stone corridors, keys jangling in iron grips. The other prisoners would wrap their hooves around the bars, screaming at times, shouting at others. Her dreams got the damp and the cold right, but as for the others, she was wrong. There were no more prisoners here, none but her. She guessed they’d all been pressed into service as soldiers; no reason to stick them in a cell if they can be thrown on an airship. At least, she thought she was alone. Down here, buried beneath the castle, there was only the faintest of lights, and she could barely see her own muzzle. Her skin erupted in goosebumps as something fuzzy and scaly crawled over her. Acting on instinct, she waved her wings to brush the—it must be a beetle?—away. Her only reward was a sudden sprain in her muscles. Right, no wings. She wrapped her tail around herself, a few bits of tree sap still stuck in it. She hadn’t had a chance to clean herself up since the Everfree, and a few streaks of blood still discolored her fur. Her bandages had leaked again, of course. Twilight slumped into a corner, wishing she could curl tighter and tighter until she vanished. It was dark here, dark like she deserved. The only sounds were the incessant crash of mechanical anvils, muffled by distance, the slow whine of wind through the drafty castle, and a light little snore. Her head rose from its hiding place behind her hooves. Snoring. It wasn’t her, and no rat she’d ever heard sounded like that. It reminded her of— “Spike?” “Snnrk.” “Spike?” The distant lantern was too dim to illuminate anything, so Twilight reached out with her hoof. “Is that…” Bump. “Hrrk? What? I wasn’t sleeping, just resting my eyes!” Spike yelled that last word as Twilight snapped him up in her forelegs, clutching him close like a drowning mare who’d just found a life preserver. “You know, Twilight, you can just ask to hug me next time. No need for the theatrics.” He dislodged his nose from her chest, rubbing it a bit. “I think you bruised my schnozz.” The unicorn took advantage of his distraction to dry her eyes on her fur. “Sorry, Spike. I’ll make sure to get permission next time.” “Well, it better be signed, notarized, and in triplicate,” Spike mumbled, his nose thoroughly rubbed and now nuzzled back into her fluff. “Of course, Spike. Of course.” The prison cell was damp and dark and cold. A unicorn’s giggle echoed off the walls. Screams. Vines like knives cut through the air. “Spike!” “I’m over here!” She heard his voice but saw nothing. Choking clouds steamed up from the earth, only dispersing long enough for glimpses of rotten trees and boiling sky. Still the vines whipped, lashing at her hooves. Again, wings that were not there struggled to lift her up. Again, she failed. “Spike!” She saw smoke mix with the smog—good smoke, the sparkling smoke that came from Spike’s lungs. Following the trail, she cut a path through the quagmire. The dragon found her first, jumping out of the way to avoid Twilight’s crashing hooves. “Whoa, slow down! I’m right here!” He held up his claws to stop the charging unicorn. Twilight reared up to slow herself, the momentum of her mad dash sending ripples through the mist. Once she had calmed down, she lowered her head to Spike’s. “Where are we?” she muttered, as if the vines could hear her. Another voice answered. “You should be able to recognize a nightmare by now, Twilight Sparkle.” Two sets of eyes stared at the newcomer. There had only been air before, but now there stood Princess Luna, spread wings keeping the smog at bay. “Princess?” quavered Spike. “Princess, what’s going on?” Twilight continued his thought. “This doesn’t seem like the nightmares I usually have.” Subconsciously she drew Spike closer to herself. “And, to be honest, I’m not sure why you’re helping me with them, not with… everything that’s going on.” Luna was impassive as always, offering only a single shake of her head and monotone response. “This is not your dream.” At a whisper from the princess, the clouds parted. Atop a mountain of moss before them burned golden lances of light. Through the lashing vines, Spike and Twilight caught glimpses of a dirty white coat and a mane that was choked with thistles and thorns. Another lance scorched away the vines, and they saw Celestia, hooves entangled and wings bleeding from razor cuts, for a split second before the Wilder closed in around her again. Twilight tried to call out, but the distance between them grew immeasurably vast as she spoke, and her words died in the smoke. The earth itself seemed to shift, pulling Celestia away. “Celestia!” Spike’s cry didn’t make it, either. Already the smog was thickening. He pulled his feet free of the boggy ground to chase after her, but strong wings held him back. “Save your strength. She has fought this nightmare many times before; believe me when I say this is by far the least severe.” Luna took a half-step forward, pushing Spike away from the struggling princess. A few golden sparks still shone through the smog, and Luna watched with tired eyes. Twilight took her dragon’s side, her eyes ablaze as she yelled “We can’t just stand by while she’s in pain!” “I have, for years.” Luna drew in a sharp breath, her exhalation sending spirals curling through the mist. “They torment her. Even still, she tells me to help the others, to guide the nightmares away from foals instead of saving her.” Finally she looked at Spike and Twilight. “Even if she would let me, I doubt I have the strength to deliver her from her terrors. As I said, this is the least of her nightmares.” Vines bent away from Luna as she began to circle Twilight and Spike, the dragon now wringing his claws. “The Wilder she can fight. It hurts her, it makes her scream in the night, but it is an enemy she can face with fire and magic.” Spike heard a muffled shout through the smog. “Uh, it doesn’t seem like she’s winning.” He wanted to run to save her, but the mists felt as impenetrable as brick walls now. Luna shook her head slowly. “No. She does not win. But at least in this dream she does not have to see the broken bodies of her soldiers, or smell the smoke rising from ravaged villages.” Her knees wobbled a bit as she sat down. “She does not have to explain to parents why their children must go far away to fight an enemy that will not die. In that small aspect, this dream is better than her waking life.” Twilight gathered Spike closer to her as she asked “Then why did you bring us here? If you can’t save her…” “I can’t.” Luna stood up, her joints visibly aching from years of battle and little sleep. “You will.” Twilight looked into her eyes, deep and dark as oceans. “You will save her, or else you will fail and be lost to us again.” She traced a pattern in the muddy earth, black moss shriveling away from her hoof. “But not here. Twilight, our armies have sought for twenty-three years to destroy the source of this abomination you created. It is time for you to try.” Twilight stepped closer. “How? If can’t help her in her dreams, I certainly can’t help her while I’m…” She glanced at Spike. “While we’re in prison.” A strained smile crept across Luna’s face. “Twilight, you have always been exceptionally resourceful—though I do wish you had not used that skill to doom the world. You two will think of something.” The dream started to fall away from Twilight, fading as they woke. “Perhaps a gifted mare and a loyal dragon will succeed where cannons failed. Go into the darkness. Stop the Wilder.” She turned to face them, and for a fraction of an instant her wings gathered them both into a hug. “Why else would I have placed you in the same cell?” Twilight shuddered awake, memories of bladed branches clouding her thoughts. Nestled in her forelegs, Spike stirred as well. “Ih sink…” Twilight lifted Spike’s face out of her chest fluff so he wouldn’t be muffled. “I think the princess just told us to pull off a jailbreak.”
7: The Jailbreak“And I thought hooves on a chalkboard sounded bad.” Claws screeched against stone as Spike sharpened his talons. Twilight tried to cover her ears; that awful noise could wake the dead, and she knew all about that sort of thing. “Yeah, well, I haven’t exactly been keeping them in digging shape recently,” Spike replied. Twilight’s magic had reverted him to a child’s body, but his skills remained. He could move mountains when he was full-grown—he only needed to move a few walls now. Finally, he stopped, satisfied by his claws’ razor edges. He was ready. The magic restrictor had fallen off last night in a haze of Luna’s sorcery, leaving Twilight ready as well. She couldn’t teleport through enchanted dungeon walls, but at least she could cast a spell to keep the sound from reaching the guards. Unfortunately, it only made it louder for her. “Let’s go, Spike.” The dragon’s eyes blazed as he turned to the wall, little arms cycling like jackhammers against the rock. Crashes echoed off the sphere of the silencing spell as Spike pushed further. Millennia of practice let him move through stone like a fish in water—a very loud fish. “Halfway there!” he shouted. Twilight couldn’t hear him. A few dozen more strikes, and the final barrier broke, leaving a hole barely big enough for a unicorn to squeeze past. Relieved, Twilight dropped her spell. Her relief dissipated when she tried to fit through the hole. “Hnng! Hnrk!” Hooves and legs strained to push her belly to the other side. “Oh, sorry. I, um, remember you being less fat.” Quietly this time, Spike removed a few more bricks to widen the breach. Twilight gasped as she flopped out of the cell, dumping her into one of the dungeon’s outer corridors. “Less fat?” Spike twiddled his thumbs. “I mean, since I was so big, and you were so small, it’s just… you know…” The clip-clop of approaching guards stopped Spike’s ramblings. Mare and dragon ran for cover, but the guards turned a corner before they saw the hole in the wall. It seemed that Luna had changed their patrol routes as well. Once the guards hoofsteps receded, Spike levered himself out of his trash-can hiding spot and muttered “You think she could have just let us out the front door.” “Something tells me that wouldn’t go over well with the civilians.” Twilight pointed towards faded graffiti painted on the bricks. The guards had half-heartedly tried to clean it up, but it still clearly depicted the former Princess Twilight and the thorned Wilder tentacles she had summoned in an unsavoury position. Some other artist had scrawled “Serves her right” beside it, along with several profanities she hoped Spike didn’t know. On second thought, she shouldn’t have drawn attention to it. Slightly shaken, the duo crept along the stone floor, past crates and cages and snoring soldiers. Apparently, most of the dungeons had been repurposed as stockpiles for ammunition and armor. Spike felt the ghost of a sneeze in his sinuses, and silently prayed that he wouldn’t snort fire near the grenades. A flash of magic lifted a spare soldier’s cloak onto Twilight, and another wrapped Spike in a scrap of camouflage canvas. It wasn’t much, but anything helped. Slowly, slowly, with pricked ears and cautious hooves, the pair made their way out of the cell block. Small geodes glowed on the walls, flameless lights which Twilight dimly remembered inventing a few thousand years ago and which Spike dimly remembered were delicious. The further they went, the louder it grew. Industrial hammers crashed in rhythm, shaking the foundations of the castle as they built whatever metal monsters the engineers could dream up. At least it made sneaking around easier. “Hey, Twi?” Spike whispered, only to have to shout, “Hey! Twi!” A nudge on the flank got her attention. Over the din, he shouted “There’s a way out!” Eager to escape the noise, Twilight rushed for the exit. It was only a small hole in the wall, blasted open by an explosives accident, but there was light and fresh air at the end of it. Or at least, fresher air. As she slid through, the stink of molten steel assaulted her and she spilled out onto a vast factory floor. Only a hasty spell protected her ears from rupture as machines slammed against the ground. There was no sun, and no moon, just the flames of the melting torches and greasy clouds, gathering so black and thick they blotted out Canterlot. At least the haze kept anypony from noticing the two new arrivals. Dodging railway cars of slag, Twilight and Spike maneuvered through the urban sprawl, inching closer to the cliff at the edge of Canterlot. Old as she was, Twilight never could forget the times she looked out from these heights, seeing endless green fields and tall trees rippling in the wind, water sparkling as it fell. Not anymore. The river was dirty and brackish and steaming-hot from reactor overflow, the fields a chessboard of withered farms, and the trees… they still rippled, but the wind had nothing to do with it. Sometimes, they walked a little closer. “Uh, hey, Twilight?” She shook herself from her reverie. “Yeah?” “How are we going to get down?” Spike kicked a broken gear off the cliff, counting the seconds as it fell. “I’ll fly you, of… course.” The holes where her wings once were twanged as she tried to use them. Spike sighed and rubbed his own back. A runt once more. Of course, he was a very daring runt. “Twi, you know how you always told me zip-lining was too dangerous, and that someday I’d bash my skull open on the rocks?” The unicorn chuckled. “Not like you ever listened to me. That was before you were big enough to headbutt all the rocks you wanted. Why?” “Well…” Spike slid a crossbolter out from his improvised cloak, a grappling hook already loaded. “Spike, where did you get that?” Twilight ran a pastern over the nasty weapon, the bastard son of a crossbow and a harpoon gun. It was meant to be mounted on a turret and fired by hoof, but Spike’s claws let him shoot it on his own. “They’re making them on that assembly line over there. Why, do you want one?” He twirled the thing a little too close to Twilight’s nose. “Um, no, that’s… that’s very unsafe. You want to zip-line down from Canterlot with rope that’s scorched in a hundred places, with a weapon I know you’ve never fired before, without any safety equipment?” “Hey, you only live twice. Unless you’ve got any better ideas…” Twilight stomped a hoof. “Just let me think for a moment…” “Hey, is that the guards I hear? Guess they must have finally caught on.” Spike eagerly cocked the crossbolter—by the time these were invented, he was already too huge to hold one, but he felt like he had a good general grasp of the concept. Point and shoot. Try not to die. “F… fine.” A unicorn’s scream pierced the air, and for a moment the guards wondered who could howl louder than the grinder machines.
